A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Proving the existence of something is the most challenging task given to humanity.

There’s theism, which affirms the existence of God, atheism, which denies it, and agnosticism, which claims that humans can’t conclusively determine whether God exists due to their limited understanding of the essence of things.

The struggle for proof of existence is clearly reflected in theology and philosophy, and even today, both the scientific community and the realm of magic are straining to provide such proof.

Honestly, I personally think it’s a rather meaningless endeavor.

It sounds ridiculous coming from someone who lives in a place where divine power, which is so mysterious, is blatantly present. Whether God exists or not, what does it matter to me?

Even if an omnipotent being looks down upon the world, it won’t change the fact that I have to go to work tomorrow morning.

In that sense, I was an atheist.

To be precise, I believe that while there might be a God, it’s unlikely that this being is omnipotent, as claimed by the clergy.

It’s a rather unsettling thing to say, especially if someone from the known cult hears it… but what can you do about the truth?

If there were indeed some omnipotent divine being, and it’s the Heavenly God mentioned by the cult, I would have been struck by lightning a hundred times over by now for the things I’ve done with Veronica in the confession booth (content unsuitable for those under 19).

Or perhaps I would have been struck when Veronica and Lucia were holding hands at the same time (same restriction applies).

For those reasons, I did not believe in the existence of God. I wasn’t a believer in the first place, and my family wasn’t particularly devout either.

But.

Still, it’s just that…

“‘I’m stronger than you’? Knight, don’t you have any shame?”

“It is true that I won, isn’t it?”

“With a 4-to-1 beatdown as well. Doesn’t that seem somewhat embarrassing to you?”

“Regardless, I won, so it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that the victory belongs to me.”

“…Ah, yes. Incredible, really.”

While contemplating the assertive angel’s demeanor after he and his companions had ganged up on a helpless angel, I thought to myself.

Nietzsche was right.

Surely, God is dead.

—

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

—

Calling him an angel would be an understatement, and calling him a demon with a few screws loose would hardly suffice.

The knight in plate armor, Ramiel, preferred to identify himself as an angel, or perhaps an Angel Advocate.

“What is an Angel Advocate? An angel advocate? It’s not like you’re ignoring someone…”

“Why? Is it unpleasant to hear? Blasphemy, perhaps?”

“No, it’s well-named.”

Veronica surprisingly accepted the title of Angel Advocate positively. To be honest, it suited her mood—after all, she had engaged in life and death with a newly encountered angel, having been betrayed by knights. Presumably, she did not view Ramiel as a mere fraud in her head.

Of course, it’s not like this side was distinguished either.

After all, wasn’t he the one who stole items from the treasury without permission?

The Holy See might have suggested to take along a few useful holy relics. Who would have expected him to swipe cursed weapons, and even a weapon stained with the fractured soul of a demon (somehow seeming to have upgraded like in a game)?

It was far too disgraceful and shameful to be called a saint. It truly was so, not just empty words.

Hence, I wanted to bestow her a grand title like “Saint Advocate”, but I had to give that idea up due to her vehement opposition (she said to call her that only if she wanted to be led around with a collar in the middle of Lateran). Sadly.

Veronica let out a sigh of relief, her face smeared with exhaustion as she gently thumped her shoulder.

“At any rate, I’m glad we resolved things. But what are we doing now?”

“I’m tying him up. You never know when Nathaniel might wake up.”

The knight in plate armor, the so-called Angel Advocate, Ramiel answered while clanking chains.

He was binding Nathaniel with a lengthy steel chain, the origin of which I had no clue. Although I knew through experience that he had the ability to summon weapons from thin air, it was not particularly surprising to see it. Despite that, it did speak volumes.

Heavens, an angel binding another angel! What a heinous blasphemy it was!

Even someone uninterested in religion would have heard of the story of Cain and Abel.

These two brothers were notorious traitors who plotted against the Roman Empire and made offerings to Yahweh, the deity who sired Jesus.

Unlike Cain, who was a violent vegan preferring peaceful meals, Abel was a meat-eater who offered a two-pleat Hanwoo piece, simply devouring it as if it were nothing.

Filled with envy, Cain exhibited his psychopathic tendencies and struck his brother Abel with a rock, marking the Bible’s account of (allegedly, according to Christians) the first murder.

While the local Pope and the Roman Catholic Church tell a slightly different story, the overarching context surrounding the first murder recorded in both texts is roughly the same: fratricide.

From a theological standpoint, Ramiel’s actions could certainly be considered nothing less than sacrilege.

When they talked about being sisters, it was all fun and games. But now, he was binding her with chains like crushing a pork cutlet with a hammer!

“Knight, weren’t you just trying to persuade him?”

I posed my question to Ramiel, my voice full of doubt. He nodded without any hesitation.

“Indeed. Same goes now. I haven’t given up. I will surely convince her.”

“But why are you binding him with chains? Wrapping him up tightly too.”

“If I could persuade Nathaniel with mere words, that would be great. But he’d hardly budge his stubbornness. He will undoubtedly attempt to flee, so I must restrain him like this!”

Well, it’s a good idea to restrain someone so they can’t escape, but why chains specifically? What are we, trading slaves?

If Camila had been here, she might have recalled her ancestors who dealt in the slave trade.

If she, who wielded red flames as a symbol of colonial rule, had awakened the spirit of her people flowing through her veins, she’d perhaps consider a career as a slave trader. Who knows, she might have turned the Mauritania Continent into “Afghanistan”.

(Anyone who looks at the map of Africa knows that England, along with France, was a key player in colonizing Africa, and historically, supplied African slaves to North America and the Caribbean. Additionally, it had invaded Afghanistan three times during its conflicts with Imperial Russia. However, saying such things in front of Camila would set her on fire—literally.)

“Oh my, it can’t be!”

I covered my mouth with my palm, concealing my shocked expression as I openly stared at Ramiel.

“I’ve never seen such a heinous crime as binding one’s sister with chains. The first murder described by the church was the tragic tale of a brother stabbing his sibling in the back. Yet, here we are with a chain binding, having knocked the sister unconscious before that.”

“Were you a believer?”

“Isn’t this plain common sense?”

Not only believers memorize biblical content.

Immediately, when the Information Command selects personnel for assignments to the Middle East, they have exams on both Modern Arabic (Fus’ha) and the local dialect (Aamiyah), verifying cultural knowledge and asking about Islamic content. Having gone on business trips to the Middle East and Israel, I had to memorize at least some parts of the Qur’an or the Old Testament to pass the exams.

The habits formed during my time at the Information Command continued into the Military Intelligence Agency. Even if I don’t have to take exams, I find myself retaining this knowledge intentionally.

Nothing beats having good background knowledge in front of a religious zealot.

While I indirectly commented on how an angel would commit sacrilege from the Scripture, Ramiel maintained a haughty stance, appearing incredibly proud.

“I’m not committing any crimes. I’m merely trying to protect you. If Nathaniel starts running wild again, you’ll be in danger as well!”

“That’s quite a shiny answer for binding him like a slave.”

“Don’t worry. Being bound by chains like this won’t hurt us.”

Ramiel waved dismissively, confidently speaking as if there was nothing to worry about.

No. It’s not concerning injuries; the issue is binding them with chains! Who chains human beings? Well, technically, he’s an angel (advocate), but still…

His argument lacked persuasive power, yet it seemed to hold some truth. Just as he suggested, Nathaniel soon regained consciousness.

“……”

His head slowly lifted from the hollow state it was in.

With a clang, the chains rattled along as the awakened angel began to look around.

Though he couldn’t peer inside the cloak, I could still guess where his gaze was directed. As he examined the faces around him, he finally fixed his eyes on Ramiel.

“…So, you all won?”

“Yes, Nathaniel. I did win.”

The way he insisted on saying ‘I’ when his counterpart referred to ‘you all’ was quite the sight.

Veronica eyed the knight, clearly questioning why such a simpleton existed. The look on her face was rather blasphemous.

The angel who had been scanning the surroundings suddenly froze in shock at the sight he encountered next. He awkwardly scratched his helm, opening his mouth as if to explain himself.

“…Right, we won.”

At that, Veronica’s expression brightened. Her triangular eyes, which had been pointed before, transformed into round, soft shapes, and the icy glare melted away.

Seeing her grin was shockingly delightful, I couldn’t help but exhale a sigh of disbelief.

“So?”

In the meantime, Nathaniel questioned what this all meant.

To which the knight replied,

“I proved my strength through victory.”

As Veronica’s gaze returned to the knight, he quickly corrected himself.

“We proved our strength.”

“Hmm.”

The saint flashed a satisfied smile.

With that, the angel finally felt at ease. Truly, the title Angel Advocate was fitting for his attitude.

At any rate, boasting of his victory, Ramiel asserted his rightful claim. Having demonstrated strength through victory, he insisted that Nathaniel now had to follow his orders. However, Nathaniel seemed to have no intention of breaking his stubbornness.

“So, you say I have to follow your orders now that you’ve defeated me? What nonsense.”

“Command is a rightful claim granted to the one who proves their might, Nathaniel.”

“That only applied when you were a burning sword. One who has sinned holds no rights, and surely you know that, Ramiel?”

“…….”

“Don’t forget that you are in a position where you can’t issue any commands. I am likewise. It is the law decreed by our Father, and the law that you and I have both violated. Don’t let that slip your mind, Ramiel.”

Upon receiving Nathaniel’s icy retort, the angel fell silent. The pride he’d held just moments ago had disappeared entirely. Ramiel couldn’t find any words to say.

In the ensuing uneasy silence, it was broken by a sulky voice.

“Ugh, seriously. Could you be any louder?”

Veronica began to speak in her typical defiant manner towards the two angel advocates.

“If you lost, just accept it. Why are you so chatty?”

“You’re acting like a colt, bantering on with every word. It’s a flagrant lack of dignity. Please be quiet; it’s unpleasant to listen to.”

“What now? Who do you think you are, calling me a fallen angel?”

“Nonsense! Who said such a thing?”

“Well, I asked you, the so-called higher angel standing over there.”

The chains clanked with a raucous noise as Nathaniel struggled against his bindings, glaring at Veronica.

“You wretched girl! How dare you blaspheme against a divine entity!”

“I’m just saying what’s clearly written in the scripture!”

“You insufferable humans have rewritten that tale thousands of times and still dare to mock the Divine! You’re really asking for it!”

“That’s enough.”

A stern voice cut through the venomous verbal exchange. Upon hearing that, the chains binding Nathaniel began to tighten ominously.

A single word was enough to subdue an agitated angel. Words calming Nathaniel, Ramiel placed his gauntleted hand towards Veronica.

“I won’t bother with anything you say, but I’d like you to refrain from calling me a fallen angel.”

“Why? I’m merely stating the truth.”

“Because it’s not aligned with reality. We have been punished, yes, but we have not fallen from grace. So, I hope you’ll avoid statements lacking justification.”

It was truly an absurd declaration from one who bound his sister with chains. I leaned closer and quietly whispered to Veronica.

“So what you’re saying is, you drank but didn’t drive?”

You had a sin, thus you are a sinner. If a sinner is punished in heaven and cast away, they are considered fallen.

I wasn’t a theologian, but someone knowledgeable about theology would know. A saint of any religion must be well-versed in theological matters.

Veronica nodded along vigorously to affirm my statements.

“That’s not entirely wrong. Putting aside whether they are fallen angels or not, aren’t you supposed to explain to us the reason for all this?”

The saint pressed the knight for his confession.

“What explanation do you desire?”

“Everything. Who you are, what your purpose is here, everything you’ve done up to now, and what this blood-drinking tree is about…”

“Curiosity really gets the better of you, doesn’t it?”

“If you’d said it honestly from the beginning, there wouldn’t have been a need for so many questions, right? So, let’s start with this: why was the coffin hidden?”

Veronica began to interrogate him, especially focusing on the one question.

“Why hide the coffin in Mauritania?”

The reason behind concealing the coffin here.

She inquired, “Was it Shamir? The man who is called Akande. Was he the one responsible for such duty? I heard he was the one you entrusted the essence to, and his name also came up.”

“That’s correct. Shamir is a kind of title. Just as you’re called the Master of Altiora. Akande, his father, and the fathers before him have all been known as Shamir.”

“So those Shamirs were protecting the coffin where you slept, right?”

“To be precise, I’d say they have been safeguarding me. It was my request.”

Ramiel revealed the identity of Shamir. It seemed he had nothing left to hide.

He spoke about how the man who had safeguarded the coffin when he began to sleep became known as Shamir.

“Eight hundred years ago, I met a man named Shamir here. I asked him for protection, and he accepted without hesitation. There was no set period for this pledge.”

Ramiel asked him to keep the coffin safe until he awakened. Despite the indeterminate promise, Shamir willingly agreed to protect it.

If he should fail and Ramiel not awaken before he perished, he had also mentioned he would entrust the coffin to his most trustworthy offspring.

“I resisted the notion of burdening my children but he was adamant. I tried hard to change his mind but ultimately failed. In the end, I gifted him my essence.”

“Is that essence the one mentioned by that angel, Nathaniel?”

Ramiel nodded silently, affirming my suspicion.

“I bestowed him the essence. He, who was protecting the coffin, later passed it to his children, retaining the coffin. That continued until it reached you all, and now it connects with Akande. He is the current Shamir.”

“That sounds quite bittersweet, doesn’t it?”

“How could it not be bittersweet? My request led to his children carrying the burden.”

“Hmmm…”

Veronica carefully cast a glance at Akande. The muscular fellow, casually lounging with his torso bare, was sprawled out and yawning lazily amidst a dust trap.

Surveying Shamir, the saint turned back towards the angel. Having heard the circumstances, it was now time to inquire about the reasons.

“Fine, I understand your relationship with Akande. But what I truly want to ask is, why did you entrust the coffin to this Shamir?”

Why did he trust the coffin to Shamir? Veronica now asked.

More directly, why was it given to an outsider rather than a member of the cult?

“But why him? This is the Mauritania Continent. Religion back then would have been Al-Yabd, right? Why hand the coffin to a heretic adhering to the Earth God instead of someone worshiping the Heavenly God? Weren’t you yourself unrelated to Al-Yabd? The deity they honor isn’t the Earth God but the Heavenly God, right?”

“…….”

“In the same vein, why did you deceive us? I’m asking why you hid your identity as an angel.”

The saint of the cult questioned the servant of the Heavenly God. Why didn’t he reveal his identity?

If he had disclosed his status, the Holy See would have certainly offered unreserved help. Why resort to lies instead?

“You displayed that red halo. Is it not a divine aura?”

Veronica, hands on her hips, shifted her weight to one side.

“Halos. Though humans have never been granted such since creation, any cultist understands what they signify. It’s a symbol of divine grace mentioned frequently in scripture.”

“I know that.”

“In truth, I don’t quite understand. Had you shown them that, the church elders would have likely gone above and beyond to aid you. So why hide it?”

This was something I was curious about as well.

Had Ramiel revealed to the clergy the grace of God as he had for us, all would have unfolded quickly. Proving the existence of God is an age-old endeavor in religion.

The existence of an angel is nearly synonymous with proving God’s existence. If one could prove that, the Holy See would have even sold their souls to a demon just to help Ramiel.

Yet, he did not choose that route.

Despite all the suspicions surrounding him, Ramiel maintained his silence. Even the cardinal, who knew something about the knight of the Cedar Coffin, remained tight-lipped.

It was strange.

“Didn’t you say you were looking for angels? If that had been your purpose, shouldn’t you have sought assistance from the cult? Considering it’s a matter relevant to you as well.”

Veronica insisted it made no sense, demanding an answer. But the angel remained tight-lipped in response to her queries. He upheld his silence, just as he had when concealing his identity.

However, he did procrastinate with a significant remark.

“…It is not the right place to reveal that. It’s a rather long story, and it would be best to hear it later.”

What a vague answer. It sounded like something a character in a cheap knockoff game might say.

I see… So you’re not ready to share yet? Then I must be getting ahead of myself. You won’t give me the answers I seek now. We’ll discuss it later…

Such conversational tactics that cause frustration in listeners. Damn you!

While Veronica glared at the knight with a displeased expression, I switched my focus to the next target, Akande, who had inherited Shamir’s position.

The dude was lazily gnawing on some dried meat. I approached him while he tore apart the traditional jerky.

“Hey, muscle pig.”

“…Pig?”

The muscly guy who stuffed his face with the jerky suddenly widened his eyes, seeming to question if I was referring to him.

“I’m not. A pig. It’s. An impure animal. I’m not dirty.”

“Put on some clothes before you talk, punk. You’re about to get dragged into religious police for indecent exposure. By the way, why were you guarding that coffin?”

“Coffin?”

“The Cedar Coffin. That thing your tribe owned.”

This was after I had pointed towards the knight in plate armor, discussing the coffin. Only then did Akande seem to grasp the concept.

“Guard. Important. Duty. Must protect.”

“That I understand. So at whose orders were you guarding it?”

“Order? No. Request.”

“So whose request?”

He suddenly grimaced. Why is it suddenly so hard? That expression—like a foreign student at a loss for words.

Unable to recall the right term while speaking in a foreign tongue, Akande wore a look of deep concentration. After a while of struggle, an unintelligible word came out.

“Uhmm… Sr.”

Although I couldn’t decipher it, his pronunciations were rather crisp.

“Sr? Who are they?”

“Sr. Person from above. But… not human.”

What? A being from above but not human? Are you telling me it might be an angel then?

I pointed at Ramiel asking, “Sr? Sr?” but Akande resolutely shook his head. So he’s not an angel? Or is it simply because Ramiel serves as an Angel Advocate?

“The knight. No. Sr. Gazing upon the land. Periodically.”

“Visits periodically? This Sr person does?”

“Not human. Focused on talking. Stop being stupid and listen.”

“No way, dude….”

While it was fine to restrain him from escaping, why was he referring to me as stupid. This dude was already a headache, dragging out conversation with his poor pronunciation. Getting retorted on top of that was just infuriating.

Should I sock him one? Of course, I’d definitely end up getting double the punishment.

As I struggled through obscured conversation, a gentle voice interrupted our exchange.

“Sr is a term derived from an ancient language.”

It was Veronica.

Leaning against a pillar in the crypt, she began to elaborate, gesturing with her finger like a conductor.

“It signifies a celestial presence. In the sacred texts of Al-Yabd, it’s generally interpreted to mean angel. Now it’s considered a dead language, as there are no native speakers left, so, perhaps the colonel has never heard of it before. Most folks wouldn’t know unless they were a theologian or archaeologist.”

“Oh….”

In that moment, I couldn’t help but exclaim in pure amazement.

Not just any amazement; it was sincere awe.

“That was the most intellectually impressive thing I’ve seen so far.”

In response, Veronica beamed, her shoulders puffing with pride as she smirked. Then her expression turned bemused, and she began to tilt her head.

“…Wait a minute. The most impressive? Are you saying I’ve looked foolish up until now?”

Surely she couldn’t have really taken that the wrong way.

In reply, I firmly stated my assertion.

“Yes.”

“What!? You…!”

She picked up a stone lying on the ground and threw it at me in protest.

Due to the shock from the blow to my head, I nearly saw stars. Akande, who had been munching on the jerky, started roaring with laughter at that display.

“Hehe. Ignorance. No shame. Confidence. Should not be lost.”

“You better put on some clothes before spouting nonsense—ugh!”

“Did it hit your bone?”

“Ugh, yes….”

“Then get hit again.”

The saint who struck a person, and the diplomat who was getting beaten up by the same saint. A half-naked muscular pig feasting on jerky while scratching his belly. Truly a bewildering combination.

While the saint lamented she would hold someone accountable for sacrilege, both angels were starting to cast glances her way. Nathaniel, who had been studying her, turned toward Ramiel, questioning.

“Are they truly the humans you chose?”

“Indeed.”

“…Those wretched ones?”

“…….”

The knight silently averted his gaze.

—

And so it was that a disgraceful incident transpired involving a holy clergyman from the Holy See, known for preaching love and peace, acting violently against innocent humans, but the matter was settled through mutual agreement between the parties involved.

“Ugh… my head hurts.”

“Hmph.”

Rubbing my head to check if it had cracked open, I noticed Veronica giving me her signature huffy response.

“Why are you still sulking? I said I was sorry.”

“Apologies alone aren’t enough! Forgiveness is what’s important! Repentance comes from genuine remorse and the forgiveness of the victim. Surely, the colonel knows nothing of this?”

“I mean… hasn’t Veronica also never apologized? Have you ever told a cardinal or bishop you were sorry for the trouble you caused?”

“Apologize? Me? I don’t need to do that!”

What a novel piece of nonsense.

“Why on earth not?”

“Because I’m a saint!”

“…….”

That statement raised serious concerns about the vetting process in the Holy See.

Anyway.

Veronica, Akande, and I gathered in a little circle, sharing idle chatter amid the romantically lit room.

I had no idea, but I was told this light was also taken from the treasury of the Holy See. Rumor had it it was a lamp once carried by a bishop who had crossed through a forest ruled by evil spirits four hundred years ago to summon an exorcist.

“That Sr you’ve met, it comes from the ancient Halenia language.”

Veronica, while filling that cult relic lantern, Splendor, with oil, began to speak.

“As I said before, the religious scriptures are mostly written in ancient languages. The writing dates back thousands of years at least. Modern versions of the holy text are translations from those ancient languages.”

Thus, clergy and theologians must learn the ancient languages.

A monk studying the scriptures must understand Sanskrit while a priest reading the Bible must be proficient in Latin. Likewise, a Muslim must learn classical Arabic to read the Qur’an.

“Sr in Al-Yabd’s texts can be interpreted in two significant ways. First, as a celestial presence. This relates to those certain angels who adhere to that interpretation.”

“What’s the second?”

“Those who serve the Earth God, particularly high-ranking priests among them tend to be called Sar. So the meanings of Sar are either angel or high-ranking priest.”

Hmmm. An angel and a high-ranking priest.

We kept both hypotheses about the identity of this being called Sr open. One proposed it may be the priest of Al-Yabd, while the other suggested it might be an angel of Al-Yabd.

“Among the two hypotheses, the one with more plausible likelihood is the former. A priest of Al-Yabd visiting the tribe periodically as proposed.”

“However, the latter doesn’t defy reason at all.”

Veronica remarked while sipping water, acknowledging she had a point.

There were indeed the cases of Ramiel and Nathaniel. If there exists a heavenly angel of the cult, it’s entirely possible there may also exist a heavenly angel of Al-Yabd.

While gazing at the lantern, I crossed my arms and spoke aloud.

“It is true they might be right, however, speaking realistically, the priest hypothesis does hold more weight. It’s hard to believe that angels could exist in abundance.”

Does that even sound plausible? I quietly swallowed my reticence.

Veronica stared directly at me, seemingly puzzled.

“With that reasoning, shouldn’t those two angels standing right there also seem out of this world to you, colonel?”

“…….”

“When judged against science or magic, determining the existence of angels is no easy task. It may perhaps be easier than proving the existence of God. It sounds ridiculous for a saint like I to say this, but—”

“Nonetheless, isn’t it more sensible to believe possible that a high priest would visit Akande’s tribe? After all, that’s not a trivial matter.”

“That’s very true.”

We pressed Akande as much as possible to glean details about that Sr he claimed to have met. Unfortunately, it turned out he knew little about the identity of Sr too.

“Sar? Identity. I do not know. Probably a woman. That is what I think.”

“A female. Check. Anything else? Anything else you recall, share whatever comes to mind.”

“Song. Very fine. Music. Skilled.”

Based on his statements, this entity known as Sr was presumed to be a “woman skilled in the arts of song and music.” Yet whether she was a human being or something akin to Nathaniel was still undisclosed.

Naturally, we had no idea about her nationality or ethnicity either. Akande, having been dressed in the traditional garments of Mauritania, had concealed his form entirely, thus he couldn’t answer where she might be from. The robes specifically were designed for women.

“A person fully covered in traditional Mauritanian attire… then it likely means they aren’t a foreigner. Foreigners usually don’t go about that much.”

“Colonel, do you imply it’s likely she’s a local? Assuming she’s a human.”

“Exactly.”

“Understood. So the only confirmed intel we can gather contains…”

Based on what we learned from Akande, we summarized our information as follows:

1. Presumed female and local.

2. Possesses exceptional talent in song and music.

3. Visits the tribe approximately every three years. Does not have any accompanying individuals.

4. Dressed in traditional women’s garments that fully cover her body.

If she is indeed human, this Sr person was highly unusual. It’s typical for married women to wear such clothing when venturing out. To do so without bringing their husbands, though, could result in a serious beating if caught by the religious police.

I noted casually, “That is quite bold. It’s something even a priest wouldn’t easily do.”

“How about a high-ranking priest?”

“Well… a high-ranking priest still finds themselves bound by law, doesn’t it? There would have to be rumors surrounding it…”

While it is true that nations on the Mauritania continent tend to be more progressive regarding women’s social advancement compared to Arabic countries, it was still not an easy deed for women to travel alone.

Setting aside cultural norms, Mauritania is a place where one could die from a monster attack or get caught in the fire between rebels and government forces.

Freedom to roam the city is realistically only possible in nations like Abbas or Kien, where centralized power and military might maintain order. In regions where a rebel might hit the capital with mortar fire, it could often be inaccessible.

The extreme corruption would only exacerbate these issues, leading to payouts over overdue salaries. The border guards, being among those officials owed, wouldn’t effectively restrain the monsters.

That’s precisely why Camila and her group took the initiative to keep the monsters away from the government forces.

“Hmmm…”

Veronica had a complex, contemplative expression while pondering.

“Regardless of whether Sr is human or an angel, it’s been confirmed that Ramiel or Mr. Akande are related to Al-Yabd. Either way, both hypotheses connect to Al-Yabd.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately.”

“There’s no need to complain so specifically… No, wait. Upon further reflection, it’s easy to see why such a remark might slip out.”

The saint sighed deeply as she placed her hands on her forehead.

“I suspect the Inquisition’s assertions might hold merit. They claimed Al-Yabd was linked with the cult that stole Lucia’s blood.”

Indeed.

The Inquisition had raised the possibility that the theft of the saint’s blood was tied to Al-Yabd. At that point, the evidence supporting this conjecture was insufficient, leading the upper echelons of the Inquisition and the Holy See to dismiss it skeptically. But if Akande met this Sar, it would change everything; someone connected with Al-Yabd had cultivated relationships with the tribe owning the Cedar Coffin periodically.

If Al-Kair, the cult group, had assistance from Sar in stealing the Cedar Coffin, it wouldn’t merely escalate into religious disputes. It could potentially compel the Holy See to draw swords.

To put it plainly, it would become a crusade.

Even in a world where holy wars are often treated as a joke, the fact that the current pope is a former Inquisition director poses a significant problem.

“Could Raphael mobilize the crusaders if things go south?”

The diplomat’s question was met with Veronica’s sardonic retort.

“That man is more than capable of doing just that. He’s that kind of guy.”

“Things are looking dire, indeed.”

We decided to keep our lips sealed about this matter until we gather some certain information. There is a chance that this Sar could very well be an unrelated third party.

As the serious discussion continued, Akande, oblivious, was busy indulging himself with food. The way he devoured the jerky combined with thick bread was reminiscent of a pig. Yet he absurdly claimed he wasn’t a pig, which made him all the more like someone from England.

“So where might our angel advocates be now?”

“Probably off, persuading him.”

Veronica pointed her chin in one direction, and there I saw the familiar armor’s back.

Ramiel was still struggling to seek concession from Nathaniel.

Along the lines of persuading him to accompany them to go hunt demons. Of course, Nathaniel’s answer was the same as ever.

“I refuse.”

“Now, Nathaniel.”

“There’s no reason for me to follow your orders. Enough with this futile persuasion.”

“Don’t be stubborn, sister. Regardless of your rejection, I will not give up.”

These angels are just… What a frustrating experience.

What exactly is a deity? Is it a man who bequeaths power to a monitored individual? This plot is still circling around in my head, and I can’t for the life of me recall the actor’s name. It is certainly a movie I enjoyed watching.

Watching those two angel advocates bicker endlessly, I met gazes with Veronica, and an exasperated sigh escaped my lips.

“They are angels, aren’t they?”

“I think they are, but honestly, I’m not sure I want to believe it.”

“How can you say that as an ordained clergyman?”

“Let’s just refer to them as ‘angel advocates’ instead, as you say, Colonel.”

“They’re angels, and you see them as holy figures! Saying it this way would be sheer blasphemy.”

“Who even cares? It’s simple. I’ll go to confession right before I die.”

Confession is there for that reason, I suppose.

Wanting to vacate this place, I realized I needed Ramiel’s help. We gathered our things and change our focus towards the less-than-reliable angel advocates, striding towards them purposefully.

“How about we start wrapping things up? It looks like Nathaniel won’t be persuaded today.”

“…Ugh.”

As I patted the knight’s shoulder, a groan escaped from the plates of armor.

It was an odd, muffled voice resonating as if traveling directly to my brain. Truly, no matter how many times I hear it, I can’t get used to it.

With a sigh of exasperation, Ramiel placed his hands on his waist then raised his upper body with a heavy breath.

“Hah. Understood. It seems your intuition regarding the lack of persuasion is correct.”

“That’s right. A good thought.”

“But what do we plan to do now?”

Veronica directed her question at Nathaniel. Currently, he was bound and unable to do anything; when freed, he would likely sprint for the hills.

While I found it strange to leave him as he was, the uncertainty made it all the more complicated. What to do with this angel advocate?

I engaged briefly in conversation with Veronica to gather her opinion. Not arriving at any distinct solutions, it appeared that the majority favored taking him with us. But our wishes were rejected abruptly.

“Oh, you needn’t fret about that. There’s no need to take him with us. Just leave him as is.”

“Wait? Leave him behind?”

“Exactly.”

No, why on earth are you suggesting such nonsense…?

“You see, we don’t require food or sleep. Though bound in chains, there are no demons lurking in this place. Even if you leave Nathaniel behind, there’s nothing that would harm him.”

With that assertive confidence, Ramiel suggested we abandon Nathaniel, contradicting all earlier claims.

My concern was piqued to the point that even the irredeemably selfish Veronica seemed taken aback, as she stumbled over her words, clearly agitated.

She was quivering now—as if she couldn’t contain her irritation.

Ignoring the relentless gaze of scrutiny, Ramiel crossed his arms, standing proudly before us with an expression that approached unhinged hilarity.

“…….”

The chained angel cast a glance toward us, tilting his head as if seeing a loathsome sibling he wishes to avoid.

“Get this audacious angel away from me. If angels could speak, that’s exactly what he’d say.”

It would be nice if these chains had left Nathaniel with the power to speak, but he remained speechless, equally stunned.

While Veronica seemed to be contemplating a quiet word with the angel advocate, that shameless heavenly being called out boldly, proclaiming with indifference.

“Fret not! Truly, it’s nothing to worry about. Nathaniel is safe here. Surely you think the same, sister?”

“…In my life, never have I been so embarrassed by a brother like you. Don’t claim us as family when out in public.”

“Ha! Just tune it out. It’s the same thing I hear every day.”

The balderdash accusation flung at Nathaniel was merely met with more flippancy from Ramiel, his demeanor matching Nathaniel’s stoic silence.

The knight couldn’t even find words to respond. With an expression of disbelief that shaded his features, Nathaniel turned his gaze away in disgust, as if regarding something unthinkable.

“Well then, let’s gracefully leave the son of a brat angel behind, shall we?”

And so Ramiel progressively assessed our plans while we rushed past those two angels, laden with unilateral determination.

Just then, a monumental sound thundered behind us.

Crack! The noise of something collapsing echoed inside the stone chamber. The very pillar that had been in the knight’s grasp was starting to collapse under stress.

The aftermath of battle may have weakened it, or perhaps wear and tear had taken its toll. Regardless, it crumbled down without warning, accompanied by the crash of dominos as the dust stirred ominously within the air.

“Crush, cough, cough…!”

“Oh, damn…!”

And just like that, we inhaled a terrible haze of dust.

With affectionate words of admiration entangled in that cloud, we grumbled about the aloofness of that angel advocate. Who could have predicted that wouldn’t he end up causing an accident? We knew he was a disaster waiting to happen.

In the tangled chaos that followed the thunderous collapse of the pillar, the knight struggled to grasp the debris, frantically attempting to hold up the collapsing rubble. Of course, he knew it was unlikely to prevent the total collapse, thus merely embraced the stones as he was forced to inhale the grainy dust.

“Huh, heh! How clumsy of me…!”

He genuinely seemed apologetic, yet I failed to find much goodwill for his clumsiness.

There was Veronica glaring daggers at him, while Akande was choking, clutching his throat, and Nathaniel, bound in chains, sighed deeply into the ground.

“….Where are the extra bombs? Surely we have some left over.”

Seeking out experimental explosives to hurl amidst the mess.

Even then, Jacob’s apology had turned immediately obsolete. Despite the promise of not leading us astray, in our frustration, we hardly paid heed to his moral sentiments.

Ramiel nervously extended his arms, attempting to further appear innocent.

“Forgive me. I am truthfully remorseful. The fortunate thing is, nobody has been harmed. Plus, only a single column fell.”

“Are you really hoping this place won’t come crashing down on us?”

The dueling conversation would likely spell disaster for us, a dreadful irony amidst this divine farce.

Before long, ominous sounds echoed overhead, sweeping our attentions back into alert focus.

-Doom!

As a foreboding signal, more crumbling and grinding sounds engulfed the air, announcing the imminent danger overhead.

As the ground seemed to quake beneath our feet, and the column swayed from side to side, debris began to tumble from above—a harbinger of doom.

Oh my, the infamy of that angel advocate…!

“Everyone, jump!”

With a shout, I led the others in a frantic scramble backwards as we dashed.

Retreating into reverse!