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“I returned to the embassy building and urgently reported the intel to headquarters.

The content of the secured report was, ‘We have received intelligence that the Magic Tower will soon undergo significant political turmoil.’

Alongside that, I sent all the information gathered and analyzed, including Saint Veronica’s reports, to the Military Intelligence Agency.

And then an answer came back.

[Report confirmed.]

“……”

There were no comments about obtaining additional intel, who it was reported to, or when to contact again after the meeting. Just confirmation. That was all.

“…Huh.”

I had no idea what they confirmed. I didn’t expect a reply right away since I sent the report after midnight, but this was a bit much.

Were they being complacent, deciding it wasn’t worth responding, or was there something else going on? I sat in the communication room chair, lost in thought.

“……”

I didn’t understand. It just felt off.

-♪

The awkward silence was shattered by the ringing of the phone. I looked at the bright little screen, let out a short breath, and pressed the call button. I was too drained even to sigh.

“…Why did you call?”

-‘You aren’t calling me ‘Honey’ today?’

“When have I ever called you Honey?”

It was Veronica.

-‘Are you free right now?’

“No.”

-‘Then come to the villa we met at last time.’

—

Episode 6 – The Betrayer of the Revolution

—

It was dawn.

Above a sky crafted by magic, the Milky Way flowed. Every star was clearly visible in the sky, and even the shimmering stardust between the stars could be seen clearly. The endless Milky Way resembled a sea with no end in sight, possessing a strange allure that seemed to draw in those who watched.

The flowing Milky Way in the clear sky looked down upon the world.

I exhaled the moist air filling my lungs. Everything felt dreamlike, but the moonlight reflected on the ocean surface and pebbles illuminated the world brightly.

Under that landscape, which seemed to come straight out of a fantasy movie, sat a woman.

“Did you come?”

It was Veronica. She sat on a small folding chair, beside a modest camping table.

On the table lay a bottle of wine. It seemed she had been drinking before I arrived. Definitely an alcoholic.

“Were you drinking again?”

“I wished I could have found a nice bar. But sadly, I’m in this sneaky situation.”

There were two chairs.

I walked past the smiling Veronica and sat down in the chair prepared for me. Then I turned my head to look around.

In front of me was an endless sea, and looking up, it felt like a shower of stars was pouring down. There were only the two of us on this vast beach. It was truly a picturesque scene, but my mood wasn’t that great.

“Why did you call?”

I cut to the chase, and Veronica’s lips curved into a smooth arc. What followed was a pout. She replied in a soft voice.

“Another work-related chat. Are you going to talk about work every time we meet? You seem too heartless.”

“You’re the one calling someone in the middle of the night to drink. Especially someone like me.”

“…Hmm, aside from the strong suit smell, you don’t seem too bad.”

Veronica left a strange remark, looking at her mobile phone screen.

“…It’s still early evening.”

I checked my prepaid phone screen to see the time. It pointed exactly at 1 AM.

“It’s the middle of the night!”

“Ah, for a civil servant, this is still evening, right? Don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Anyway, we have plenty of time….”

Veronica tapped her phone a few times, then smiled gently as she set down the bottle of alcohol. The half-finished wine inside the bottle slushed around.

“Colonel.”

“Yes, Saint.”

“Shall we have a little chat?”

—

Veronica. The 58th Saint of the Cult.

Hailing from the Kien Empire’s baron family, Veronica lost her entire family in an unexpected incident when she was just five years old. It was a car accident.

Veronica entered an orphanage supported by the baronial family and was recruited by the Imperial Guard HQ, eventually becoming a Saint.

The first time I met her was beneath the 25th bridge of the Cult.

“I think it was pouring rain back then, right?”

“Thanks to that, the eavesdropping was nullified. It was also easy to escape.”

“We were holding hands tightly, running through the rain-soaked path. That was already two months ago.”

“Has it really been that long?”

Veronica smiled brightly as she sipped the remaining wine.

“So, how’s it been living with Lucia and the Hero lately?”

“What do you think? I’m ridiculously busy.”

“Come on! Don’t dodge the question, just tell me.”

“Dodge what? I’m too exhausted to even respond but to say what I have to.”

“There was nothing happening last time I saw you? You looked all chummy, riding together with monsters.”

“That was work, not playing.”

The barren land operation was an official military operation. So, I wasn’t out exploring with Camila, we were working. The Military Intelligence Agency is affiliated with the Ministry of Defense, and technically, information agents are soldiers. So, I found it strange that Veronica expressed that as just ‘having fun.’

Veronica leaned over the table and poked my side incessantly, yapping nonsensically.

“Still, having many women around isn’t bad, right? Don’t play favorites, treat all three of them well.”

“Saint, are you teasing me right now?”

“Huh? Caught me!”

Her bold attitude made me want to punch her, but I couldn’t act on it. Even if no one was around, getting caught would mean severe consequences.

She seemed well aware of it, clutching her stomach and laughing heartily. It was mocking.

“Why do people live like that?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“What a bunch of nonsense.”

By then, Veronica was laughing with tears in her eyes. After laughing for quite some time, she finally calmed down and wiped her eyes with her fingers.

“Ah, that’s funny…. Can I give you some advice?”

“Please don’t.”

“Be careful with the Hero, even if not with Lucia.”

“What should I be careful about? Fire hazards?”

“No, I mean, just treat them cautiously as people!”

That was rather peculiar.

I sat in the folding chair and tilted my head.

“Is there a reason?”

“Um. Just a feeling?”

“Is that a feeling as a Saint? Or as Veronica herself?”

“Does it even need to be distinguished? It’s still me, after all.”

“So, the reason is just a feeling. That’s the whole explanation?”

“Yep.”

It was a question not worth answering. I leaned back in the chair and began reflecting.

The recruit motives were likely money and human sentiment.

For a young girl who lost her family in an instant, material wealth and human affection were necessary. Being a growing child, it was crucial. The Imperial Guard HQ probably dug into that aspect.

It was a cruel and miserable act to inflict upon a girl who lost her parents and siblings, but that’s how things were in the world of intelligence agencies.

Veronica whispered about the past with a poignant smile. Her tone was straightforward.

“I used to just watch Raul mingling with the imperial aristocrats, twiddling my thumbs thinking I’d end up a washed-up nobody, but somehow I’ve made it here alive.”

Veronica spoke with a calm demeanor. She seemed a tad resigned.

No, it wasn’t so much calm or resigned but more like accustomed to it.

If she were a top-notch intelligence agent under the control of the Imperial Guard HQ, her life must have been in danger more than once.

“Oh right. There was a time I almost died while on a mission. Do you know about that?”

“Brunda?”

“Oh, you know it?”

Brunda is a nation in Northern Mauritania.

It’s a place strong with indigenous religion and sorcery, where even elemental mages, categorized as ‘magicians,’ have their lives on the line when there. Not to mention, for a cleric of a different belief to go there, it’d be nothing short of a miracle to return alive.

Veronica smiled faintly as she continued her story. Perhaps due to the wine, her pronunciation was clear, but her voice had a slight tremor.

“The real reason I went there wasn’t to spread the word but rather due to a job for the guard. A new rift had formed in the southern Brunda, and since it was under warlord control, it was hard to access.”

“Were resources from the rift needed?”

With a smile still on her face, Veronica casually grabbed the wine bottle and rested her chin on her hand.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. They didn’t tell me.”

“An information agent, huh?”

“An information agent.”

I nodded as I received the bottle of alcohol she extended. It was expected.

From the perspective of a handler controlling an information agent from behind, agents shouldn’t know a lot. You never know when they might be caught. If they were ever kidnapped by enemy intelligence agencies, the information in their heads could become deadly poison.

So, handlers usually don’t tell their agents a lot. Objectives, directions, plans, even names and affiliations.

That way, if an agent were caught, the handler could escape alive.

Thus, agents and operatives become expendable, things to use when convenient, and can be abandoned and fled from anytime. So, people like us referred to them as ‘assets.’

No matter how you package it, they’re ultimately just expendables.

Veronica was little different.

“Thinking back, they never properly answered me when I asked about anything. They just told me to find a way to access, yet failed to inform me why or where. Nearly got me killed.”

“…How so?”

It was a bit of a dumb question. I had seen several people die on missions before.

Yet Veronica calmly began to…

She tapped the back of her hand lightly.

“That was almost a close shave! My hair was really long back then; I nearly ended up with a bob cut!”

“Oh, right.”

Her tone was bright, but the situation was anything but.

Beheading or execution was familiar, but to hear it mentioned like that was… well, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“…Tsk.”

With nothing else to say, I opened the cork and searched for a drinking cup. However, no matter how I squinted, there was nothing that resembled a cup on the table.

“You don’t have a cup?”

“Just drink straight from the bottle. Why make a fuss over such things between us?”

Watching Veronica gulp straight from the bottle while waving her hand dismissively, I couldn’t help but find the situation ridiculous.

“…What kind of relationship do we even have?”

“Hmm… one where we hold hands and gasp for breath all night?”

“You’re insane.”

If saying things like that was a skill, then she indeed had quite a talent.

I held the open wine bottle in my hand, staring blankly at the sea. Veronica, sitting across from me, slammed the wine bottle down with a thud.

“Ugh—I’m getting drunk.”

“…Let’s maintain some decorum, shall we?”

Seeing Veronica chug the ridiculously expensive wine like it was water, I was left speechless, lightly scolding her, while she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Stop nagging. Did I come all the way here just to be lectured?”

“……”

I had no confidence in going along with a drunk’s antics, so I silently gazed at the night sea. Throwing a discarded empty bottle on the white sand, Veronica fumbled around for another bottle.

I leaned forward, as if about to collapse, and handed her the wine I was holding.

Grasping the bottle, Veronica took a gulp, slumping back against her chair as she began to mutter.

“Still… life does seem to get better with time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that… if you look at it by the years, it’s been well over twenty… so everyone starts bringing up various tales.”

“The folks from the Information Agency?”

Without a word, she paused to sip the wine, slowly nodding her head.

I looked at her, curiosity piqued, and asked.

“What do they say?”

“Life stories. Work stories. Just ordinary tales, really.”

“……”

“Where they went and saw beautiful scenery. Where they came from and what’s at home. What they ate and found delicious. What gifts to buy for family. Missing those who’ve parted ways. The higher-ups being a pain. Today’s youth being so reckless…”

The Saint gazed into the night sea of the Magic Tower, reminiscing about the past. Whether it was due to the alcohol or just the passage of time, her murmurs were neither eloquent nor profound.

Had a journalist been there, they would have pulled out their notebook to jot down the juicy bits, but I didn’t need to do anything like that. I could remember most conversations or situations in my head. I had been trained for situations like this; I had gone through them, and ultimately, I had developed such a habit.

The same was true even now.

I absorbed every piece of information Veronica spilled out, contemplating what report to create upon returning. It was a natural thought process, one I didn’t even have to consciously decide upon.

Suddenly, I found myself pondering how I ended up like this.

Thus, for the first time, I posed a personal question to Veronica.

“Veronica.”

“Yes?”

I had plenty of questions I wanted to ask her.

Why did you accept the recruitment of the Information Officer?

Were you not scared the first time you were summoned by the Royal Family?

Knowing very well that you were being assigned dangerous tasks, why did you not refuse?

What reward did you receive for helping the Information Agency?

You were already a Saint when Lucia was deployed; why didn’t you stop your little sister from going to the battlefield?

Were there reasons you had to survive by slandering Lucia and eliminating Raul?

Why send an assassin when Lucia had not even become a Saint?

There were so many questions on my mind.

Some questions could easily be answered with a bit of effort, some could be found in the Information Agency’s archived documents, while others would be difficult to expect an answer for even if I asked now.

I had plenty of questions to ask, yet in the end, I only spoke one.

“Why did you become an information agent?”

“……”

Why did she become an information agent?

Veronica lifted her head to answer.

“Because I wanted to live.”

“……”

“Is there really a reason to live?”

It was a surprisingly difficult question.

A question that had no clear answer. Thus, it was hard to respond.

Philosophy, beliefs, ideologies, the past, innermost thoughts. It was a question that could only be answered if one forced out their deepest layers. It was harder than the age-old chicken-or-egg question I faced during my high school club interview.

In fact, every problem in the world was like that.

If you were to ask someone, “Who are you?”, they might respond, “I am so-and-so from this position in such-and-such group.” But if you were to ask, “What kind of person are you?”, they might struggle to give a straightforward reply.

People cannot be easily defined, and every matter in the world ultimately stems from people.

Then the Saint asked me a question.

“Colonel.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you become a soldier?”

It was a rather challenging question.

As I contemplated what to say, a sudden mix of violet and alcohol wafted through the ocean breeze. I must have been tipsy.

With a deep sigh, I stood up from my seat.

In the end, I hadn’t heard anything useful today. I lacked the courage to deal with Veronica’s drunkenness, so I tried to snatch the wine she held.

Looking back now, perhaps I did that to avoid answering.

“I’m drunk. Go inside and sleep…”

“Ugh…! Let go!”

“No, you’re definitely drunk right now!”

“I’m not drunk…!”

With the night sea as our backdrop, the two of us engaged in a tug-of-war over the wine bottle.

Anyone watching would think, “If you’re going to get drunk, at least do it gracefully.”

I tried to coax the drunken Veronica. Surprisingly, she was quite strong.

“You crazy woman! If a drunk person’s near the water at night, they’ll drown! Get up and head home quickly!”

“Who do you think you are?!”

“I’m losing my mind here! Damn it!”

“It’s mine, aaaaagh…!”

Veronica, behaving in a way that would be hard to believe for a Saint, flopped onto the sandy beach. Already mad, with alcohol on top, I felt utterly helpless.

I wondered if I should threaten to report her to the Inquisition, but seeing her inebriated state clutching the wine bottle like a lifeline, I felt that such a threat would fall flat.

“Fine, just go back and drink then!”

“You didn’t answer my question!”

“Why the hell do I need to care about your family matters?!”

“Oh, was it because of family?”

Her drunk voice was surprisingly coherent.

“What’s going on here?” I looked up to see Veronica gazing at me with a rather sober expression, as if her drunkenness had faded.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier? Come on, tell me.”

“Why would you ask that? You’ve already done your background check on me, right?”

“You’re okay knowing about others’ family matters but not sharing your own? That’s just rude.”

What a ridiculous logic. Even Aristotle would come back from the grave to smack his forehead in disbelief.

But Veronica’s posture was so confident, and the grip of her hand on the bottle was beyond my expectations. No matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn’t budge. I thought maybe this religion might bulk you up if you prayed hard enough; if I had known, I would have been attending church regularly.

“Let’s drop this and talk about something else.”

“Unless you tell me, I won’t let go.”

“…Ugh.”

Reluctantly, I sighed deeply and had to speak.

“…My dad was a soldier. Happy now?”

“Your dad? Colonel, your father never even served in the military, as far as I know. He worked in the Ministry of Finance, right?”

“…So you could just say he’s a person like that. Whatever.”

“Then how about joining the Information Agency?”

“I passed the exam.”

“Not that. Was there someone like your dad in the Information Agency?”

“…Let’s say there was.”

“Ugh, what’s that?”

Veronica’s interest seemed to plummet as she placed the wine bottle down. The rolling bottle buried itself deeply in the sandy beach.

I wobbled to my feet, brushed the sand off my clothes, while Veronica lay sprawled out like a child, gazing at the sky.

With no strength left to say anything, I abandoned Veronica to flop around in the sand and plopped down in a folding chair.

“…Get up. Now that we’ve had our fun, let’s head back.”

“……”

“…Veronica?”

“……”

“I can’t be serious, are you actually sleeping?”

“……”

“……”

I tentatively edged over to check, and the magically created moonlight illuminated Veronica’s face. Her eyes had already closed. Thinking she was just playing around, I poked her and even teased her nose with my finger, but she didn’t budge. She was definitely asleep.

“…This is insane.”

I hoisted up Veronica and, with all my might, made my way back to her villa. I cleaned up any remaining luggage and the bottle neatly.

Only after tossing her onto the bed did I notice a throbbing pain in my left shoulder.

The seam had ripped open.

 

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