A Dark Fantasy Spy

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An unidentified thug appeared beneath the ceiling.

No, he was standing.

From the very beginning, the thug had been there, as if he had been watching us all along.

The only thing we could ascertain about him was his name.

“There you are, Nathaniel.”

The moment the deep voice called his name, a flash of confusion crossed Veronica’s eyes.

The saint holding a revolver opened her mouth in dismay.

“…The Angel of Circulation?”

—

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

The dim cavern was eerie and foreboding. The flickering lantern cast trembling shadows, and a butchered mass lay sprawled, darkening the atmosphere.

The massive corpse was enough to make one feel nauseous with just a fleeting glance. Still, as long as one didn’t pay attention to the grotesque flesh, it didn’t seem so bad.

Standing there, even with the dead demon behind us, was not solely because of my strong stomach. The corpse of a demon is incomparably more repugnant than that of a human or animal. I could endure it entirely thanks to the calm demeanor of the knight.

As we tightened our grips on our weapons, the knight gestured for us to stop and said,

“Stand down.”

“Is this one of your comrades?”

“Indeed.”

I glanced back and forth between the knight and the thug, questioning what their exact relationship was. The knight, seemingly recalling the right words, caressed his helmet before responding.

“He’s an advisor.”

“An advisor?”

The helmet nodded up and down, and the knight continued.

“In simpler terms, yes. Nathaniel is wiser than anyone else. Her wisdom has always illuminated our path as we battled the forces of evil. Even when sealing the demon here, it was she who uncovered its weakness.”

The expression of “the wisest” was likely referring to that thug. Stepping forward, the knight began to greet his comrade.

With a single word, like a stone weathered by flowing valley water, he solemnly set the mood. His genuinely heartfelt voice held an air of subtle excitement.

“I knew it was you. I felt the energy of circulation for an instant.”

His voice brimmed with joy and camaraderie, creating a friendly atmosphere.

It was like an old friend reuniting after a long time. I had never seen such joy on his face before. This long-awaited moment of reunion saw his profound voice shining brighter than ever.

Yet, no response came back.

With neither acknowledgment nor reaction, the thug merely stood between the ceiling and the pillar, looking down at us.

As the awkward silence lingered, the air around us began to shift. Tension started to flow through the atmosphere, sharpening our senses.

In the midst of exchanged glances filled with unspoken words, the knight still couldn’t hide his delight.

“It has been quite a while! We finally meet again after a long detour.”

“…….”

“Sister, why are you not speaking? Are you not glad to see me?”

The structure connecting the pillars felt like a type of bridge or castle wall. Perched high enough to touch the ceiling, the thug resembled an assassin surveying the battlefield for the enemy leader.

Heavy armor contrasted sharply with his light tunic. A light and soft cloak cascaded down from his shoulders to his ankles. A breastplate and shoulder guards were designed to protect only the crucial parts.

Unlike the knight, encased in iron, the thug exuded an air of lightness and softness. From his attire to his overall aura, he presented a clear contrast to the knight, who conveyed a sense of oppressive heaviness.

The presumed angel, who had been silent, finally spoke after a moment’s pause.

“I’ve been waiting.”

The slow voice resonated within us. Unlike the knight’s deep and heavy tones, it felt markedly different.

If one were to compare it to an instrument, the knight’s voice could be likened to the deep, mellow sound of a horn. He rarely raised his voice; thus, if one had to label a gender, it probably leaned closer to male.

“It’s been a long time. Have you finally awoken from your slumber?”

“Indeed! It seems you have woken up before me.”

“That’s right.”

“Where are the other comrades? If it’s Anael, you should know Nathaniel well enough. Can you tell me where sister Anael is?”

“…….”

In contrast, the thug’s voice was high and clear, resembling a splendid clarinet.

“One piece of advice.”

But the atmosphere contradicted the impression one might have from the voice.

“If you think I’ll greet you warmly, then abandon that expectation.”

Nathaniel, standing atop the pillar, responded to the knight’s friendly greeting with a chilly voice. Her strangely defensive response only added to the tension.

“I have no goodwill to extend to you.”

Her coldness was biting. Akande’s expression stiffened slightly, while the knight looked completely bewildered.

“What do you mean?”

“It means keep it brief and leave.”

A sharp edge emerged from her words, suffused with unmistakable hostility. The atmosphere, already tense, now became even more uncomfortable. Nathaniel was undoubtedly a comrade of the knight, yet for some reason, they were at odds.

Although it was Nathaniel who was showing hostility, the mood between them was palpably dreadful. An anxious light flickered across Veronica’s face—something felt wrong.

I called out to her softly.

“Veronica? Are you alright?”

“…Ah, yes. Just…thinking for a moment….”

It was an oddly ambiguous response. Her demeanor was entirely different from when she had been joking around with the demon, seemingly indifferent to the taunts.

…Ugh. This doesn’t feel right.

The knight continued to gaze at his comrade, expression filled with confusion.

After a moment, the knight clenched his gauntlet, creating a resounding clang against his armor. He proclaimed with bravura.

“The Evil Tree is once again trying to take root in this land! We must sever the seeds of greed before they sprout. I plan to gather our scattered comrades and uproot it. Nathaniel, let us fight together once more!”

“…….”

“Before your wisdom, any treachery is rendered useless. It would be an honor to stand beside you on the battlefield.”

Fighting against evil seemed to hold considerable pride for the knight. It was only natural, I thought.

With a voice thick with pride, he appealed for assistance, infused with a sense of assurance that his comrade would undoubtedly fight alongside him.

But in this world, unexpected variables always exist.

Nathaniel’s voice sank low.

“I refuse.”

—

A low voice from the ceiling brought an oppressive silence. The atmosphere thickened, and all motion ground to a halt.

In the suffocating hush of the cavern, one could hear a pin drop. A frigid stillness enveloped the chamber.

“Refusing? What do you mean by that?”

“Just as I said.”

An angel emerged from the shadows. With a flowing, soft cloak, Nathaniel strolled along the pillar.

Poised, or perhaps arrogant.

The knight stared at Nathaniel in disbelief as he strolled leisurely.

“Stop joking around, Nathaniel. I did not come here to play.”

A sly laugh cascaded down from the ceiling. It was an utter mockery.

Regardless, the knight carried on stoically.

“We are here to thwart the evil that encroaches upon this world. And today, that evil seeks to disturb this land once more.”

He raised his clenched fist resolutely. His endlessly serious and solemn posture lent strength to his appeal.

“Your brother begs you; let us band together and fight against evil.”

The knight turned to his comrade, poised as if to await a response. Perhaps sensing the weight of his gaze, Nathaniel’s heavy cloak began to shift.

“You’re chasing a foolish dream again.”

Even after his fervent plea, Nathaniel’s response was still frigid. It felt like he’d heard an abhorrent term repeated yet again.

Nathaniel continued to pace between the pillars as he spoke.

“I too agree that evil must be dealt with. But I do not like the way you intend to go about it.”

“What is it that displeases your sister?”

“These humans.”

His voice, which had briefly felt distant, suddenly drew near.

Every hair on my body stood on end. An indescribable chill raced down my spine, and all gazes turned towards him.

Akande’s eyes widened in alarm as he rushed to turn around. The thug who had been surveying from above was now looming over him.

Even with direct eye contact, his face remained hidden. It wasn’t merely due to the deep-set hat. It felt as if an invisible veil obstructed sight, casting an impenetrable shadow over the inside of his hat.

Without warning, the thug pressed the knight.

“Who are these fools you brought with you?”

“They are my allies.”

The knight stepped forward, shielding us with his body. It felt protective, and in part, it was.

The sturdy armor stood like a barrier between us and the thug, as his stern voice echoed through the helm.

“They have been of significant help to me. Without them, I would not have reached you. So I request you treat them respectfully.”

“Of such lowly humans, you expect respect?”

“Absolutely!”

The knight nodded without hesitation.

“Disregarding the creations made by our Father is akin to disregarding the Father Himself. Moreover, the anointed one, the owner of Altiora, is present here. Proper respect must be shown.”

The knight’s tone carried a sense of stern admonition, shifting the thug’s gaze to Veronica. The saint trembled faintly as she found herself face-to-face with the darkened figure.

From the context of their conversation and demeanor, it was clear that the knight and the thug were both angels. The term “our father” often refers to the celestial being revered by the cult.

However, Veronica’s complexion appeared quite shifty in the presence of the angel. I diverted my attention from the two angels to her instead.

“What’s wrong…?”

“…No, it’s just….”

She had been acting oddly for a while. Veronica was struggling to find her words. Her trembling eyes met those of the angel, who seemed to lose interest in her.

“Are these humans the newfound hope you discovered?”

As Nathaniel’s question lingered, the knight remained silent, quietly observing us. The air around him felt regal, and he broke into a chuckle unexpectedly.

“Hah!”

It was a palpable derision.

“Countless years have passed, yet you remain ensnared within sweet delusions. When will you finally abandon that foolish dream and come to your senses?”

“Nathaniel.”

“To place your hopes in pathetic humans even after such a betrayal.”

“…Nathaniel!”

The knight’s voice escalated to rare heights. The thug, echoing contempt, retorted coldly.

“Stop fooling around. I shall no longer indulge your childish antics.”

A wave of hostility poured out.

“To seek help from humans, you must have lost your way. Since when were you unable to wield your sword without assistance? It seems the ‘Burning Sword’ is dulled now. You should feel shame, Ramiel.”

Ramiel. That appeared to be the knight’s name.

The thug pointed sternly, his disdain flickering like embers. Anger, or perhaps deep-seated frustration, turned the flames within him cold and cruel.

In response, the knight swatted away the thug’s hand and raised his own clenched fist, his voice soaring once more.

“Do not insult me, Nathaniel! We are here to protect this land from evil. You disgrace not only me but my comrades as well!”

The anger swelled within him, vibrating with intensity.

His metallic gauntlets clanged as he struck his chest—his furious gestures mirrored that of an insulted individual.

“Is your rage in response to the disgrace of your comrades, or do you struggle to accept your own ignorance?”

“With your wise insight, perhaps I appear as foolish and ignorant to you. If that is how you wish to belittle me, I shall accept it graciously. However!”

A grave resonance briefly trembled through the ground.

“If my sin is that I sought to rescue suffering souls and eradicate evil from this land, so be it!”

Barely finishing his sentence, a bitter chill followed. The atmosphere became solid, freezing the very air around us.

“You speak not a word of the suffering your ignorance has wrought upon your brothers and sisters.”

“Will you simply watch as evil runs rampant?”

“No. I shall purify the impure with my own hands. But I will not follow your way. My purification shall transpire solely by my own methods.”

An argument continued between the two angels, and everyone could instinctively sense that things were moving towards a dangerous halt. Why did malicious premonitions always seem to manifest?

I watched the thug quarrel with the knight while wielding his rifle. Beside me, Akande subtly clenched his fists, rolling his eyes in agitation.

The knight pressed his former comrade with questions.

“Your method? What do you mean by that?”

“I will cleanse all that is sinful existing on the earth. Everything stained with wickedness.”

“…Does that mean humans are included?”

“Indeed.”

“That’s pure nonsense!”

A roar of wrath erupted from his voice.

It was a fury I had never seen before. A blustering roar flowed towards the angel as if mirroring flames of fury.

“Judgment is not within our purview! You’ve forgotten there is only one true arbiter of judgment, Nathaniel?”

“Naive is rather my title as opposed to your own. How long will you stand idle, watching the tainted earth? When will that judgment you mentioned be enacted?”

“So you intend to pass judgment on your own? What you are carrying out is not judgment, but mere cycle!”

Nathaniel’s hidden face bore a scornful smile.

“Death is a part of the cycle.”

“…….”

“Judgment is what a soul receives. The matters of sins and their weights are determined by a scale. What I aim to do is merely offer them to the scale before it weighs their souls.”

“…Offer them where?”

“The afterlife.”

An icy agony transferred to the thug. Anger sharpened into a blade with precision. The sharpness of his ire burned brighter than it had ever before.

“That is sacrilege.”

The knight was also met with a cutting sneer. Within the cloaked depths, flames smoldered quietly.

“Your abandonment of duty and descent; can you even dare to criticize me?”

“…….”

“It’s time to awaken from your dreams, Ramiel. Your foolish dreams ended in failure centuries ago. We were unable to uproot evil; you know better than anyone the downfall of humanity you’ve witnessed.”

“…You’ve grown arrogant in my absence, Nathaniel.”

“You maintain your pretense of righteousness. What became of that hypocrisy? Have you already forgotten how your indecision birthed despair?”

“What do you think your arrogance would provoke among our brothers and sisters?”

“Our brothers and sisters would share my sentiments, unlike you, who’s persistently preoccupied with flowers and dreams.”

“Perhaps that is true. But Anael would not agree!”

As if deeming the conversation redundant, the knight waved his hand dismissively.

“If you indeed possess the wisdom you claim, you should know the resting place of all who slumber. You were closest to her, after all. Where is she lying?”

“Anael is dead.”

“…What?”

“The Circle of Circulation imprisoned her soul. My beloved sister can no longer be seen.”

The Circle of Circulation? What does that entail?

Before I could puzzle over the two angels’ dialogue, Akande chimed in.

“Pelek.”

“What?”

“Spindle. It spins. Life, death. It turns. Following the spindle. Like a circle.”

Perhaps reading my mind, Akande added with a tongue-tied explanation.

A spinning spindle. It resembles the cyclic rebirth mentioned in Buddhism, doesn’t it?

Now that I think about it, the knight had said something similar. He mentioned a wise being presiding over the cycle. The Circle of Circulation seems intricately tied to this idea of cyclicity.

Nathaniel began to tread forward. As the angel moved to the side, the knight spoke up with disbelief.

“That’s a lie! Why do you claim Anael has perished?”

“Cyclicality cannot be halted. Death is part of that cycle.”

“You just watched it happen?”

“It was a self-chosen death. My sister, who loved all that exists in this world, chose death, having loved humanity too dearly.”

As Nathaniel moved with the quiet grace of a predator, he spat out words.

“…Such foolishness.”

Those words ignited the knight’s fury. Seemingly shocked, he suddenly grasped his comrade by the collar, voice brimming with rage.

“Do not insult the death of a fellow comrade!”

“…….”

“It was the death of your most devoted sister! You speak of a decision made between those who loved and cherished one another—how can you condemn Anael’s choice?”

“It was a foolish choice indeed. Blinded by ephemeral love, she chose to vanish, forsaking her sister and comrades. She suffered through a monstrous demise; such was the most ignorant decision among all she made. Like her delightful naivety.”

“Your arrogance… it truly knows no bounds!”

“You call me arrogant? There is great irony in hearing that from you.”

The seething knight leaned forward, their faces mere inches apart. Trembling fingers clutched at the collar, and another rush of breath fueled the atmosphere.

As he finally regained some stability, ready to say something to his comrade—

“Shut it!”

-Wham!

The knight was violently thrown off balance.

A gauntlet aggressively snatched at the helm’s faceguard. The knight, once in control of the situation, seemed to lose his grip to the thug’s overpowering strength. The thug’s icy anger spilled forth as he held the knight’s helm before him, pressing their faces close.

“The death of my sister was brought on not by her own actions, but by you! Ramiel!”

“Ugh…!”

Crash! The thug hurled the helm away, causing the knight’s heavy armor to soar helplessly. It crashed into a pillar of the chamber.

The weighty armor flung aside like a piece of paper. Standing unperturbed, the thug remained motionless, as if he was merely discarding a plaything.

“What the hell.”

I could only react with shock as the two angels began to battle each other. Angels actually fighting! What in the world is happening?

At this point, only one person could answer my questions. I turned urgently to Veronica.

“What on earth is wrong with them? Why are they suddenly fighting?”

“…….”

“Damn it. Get a grip!”

“…Nathaniel and Ramiel, those were their names just now…?”

Veronica muttered, appearing to be in a daze. Frustration surged through me watching the saint’s bewildered demeanor.

As I focused on her state of mind, the thug, having thrown the knight away, began to tsk in apparent disappointment.

“You’ve grown weak. Have you lost your strength while being in a deep slumber? To think a mere shadow of the once ‘Burning Sword’ has resulted. You obviously lack perspective.”

“…Nathaniel!”

Dust and gravel peppered the surface of the armor as the knight rose from the debris.

Ripples spread across the still lake—a wave emerged, expanding throughout the tranquil ambiance like unfolding waves. The grip of the greatsword surged from a mythical blade, breaking free as a burst of waves crashed forth.

The knight drew forth his weapon with a might that only furthered the tension. Though he had been attacked, his resolve to fight now seemed eminent. With tension running high, he positioned himself protectively in front of us.

“It is unacceptable to have assaulted a comrade. And now, to act as judge upon us! It will not stand! Have you forgotten your vow to protect this land from evil?”

“I have never once forgotten that vow! I merely swore to no longer follow your way.”

“You cast aside the order! Even if our objectives align, should you disrupt order, I shall not recognize you as my sister.”

“You are no longer the Burning Sword, and neither am I. From the moment we resolve to descend to this world, we lost all title to guide—neither should you wield the Burning Sword, nor dare decree commands over us.”

The air surrounding us changed rapidly. The winds became a fierce gale, transforming the previous gentle ambiance into a wild tide.

The resounding calm now shattered—tension electrified the atmosphere, sending skin-tingling sensations down our spines. Signs of combat loomed ahead, each hair and fiber of our being stood on end.

No one had to say a word. We readied ourselves. The tattoo on my shoulder shimmered in darkness, cartridges slid sharply into chambers.

Just as I placed the rifle against my shoulder, Veronica abruptly came rushing back.

“…Wait! Stop, Colonel!”

With an anxious voice laden with urgency, she begged me to stay.

I shot an incredulous glance her way.

“Why?”

“We cannot fight! We must run! We have to leave immediately!”

What on earth was she talking about?

“Ramiel, Nathaniel. I was in doubt earlier, but it just hit me. Those angels.”

The saint gazed at the knight and the thug. Her eyes, resembling obsidian, reflected pure terror.

“They are fallen angels!”

In that heartbeat, the angel’s mouth opened, as if in reply to the saint’s voice.

“Indeed.”

Nathaniel turned both hands behind her back.

“I am a fallen angel, a parricidal wretch who forsook duty and betrayed the Father. An outcast living alongside those who turned their backs from Heaven with my brethren.”

The mantle flared, gauntlets gliding across the tunic. The weathered breastplate glimmered within the encroaching darkness, illuminated by the lantern’s light.

“I am one who presides not over salvation but over the circle. Do not misconceive.”

A pair of blades soared forth, cleaving through the darkness.

The sword-wielding angel spoke to the humans.

“μηνομισητεοτιηλθονβαλεινειρηνηνεπιτηνγηνουκηλθονβαλεινειρηνηναλλαμαχαιραν.”