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“You’re saying to drown someone? What do you mean by that? Are you talking about assassinating someone in the domestic department?”

-‘Oh, no, that’s not it. This is an overseas department matter.’

“What do you mean by overseas department…?”

-‘Leoni’s been handling that for a while. I can’t go into too much detail for certain reasons, but do you remember what I told you before we headed to the North?’

“You said to avoid getting involved in any trouble.”

-‘That’s right. I’m glad you remember. This is related to that. Things have changed a bit, and it’s unfortunate I can’t give you specifics, but don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough. For now, just know that you need to get a few people into the North. Keep your eyes wide open from now on. See what happens in the North, and who’s acting suspiciously.’

“….”

-‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’

Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician in History

As always, the weather in the North was dreary.

The sky was filled with dark clouds, not letting a single ray of sunshine through, casting an ominous shadow.

If only the pure white snowflakes were falling gently, it might have lifted the bleak atmosphere, but with snow pouring down like it could collapse the military tents, my already downcast mood felt like it was sinking to the depths of the basement.

“Sigh….”

A sigh sounded from behind me. I turned around while holding a coffee cup and a binder, looking out the window.

The owner of the sigh was Camila.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just saw on my way here that there was an accident in the refugee village.”

Camila shook off the snow clinging to her shoes and shoulders as she spoke.

“Several temporary tents have collapsed. Fortunately, no one has died, but it seems some refugees need to relocate.”

In the North, refugees are divided into three categories depending on their living conditions.

Those who stay in their homes or with relatives, those who reside in shelters constructed by the Imperial government over the decades, and finally, those who stay in tents.

Camila was talking about those in the last category.

To deal with the magic realm, the Kien Empire fortified the North and set up shelters everywhere, but these shelters alone could not accommodate the increasing population from the rising birth rate, advances in the medical system, and policies encouraging migration to the North.

So, right after martial law was declared, the military government headquarters created safe havens in parks, subway stations, and open spaces to accommodate the refugees.

Of course, calling them safe havens is an understatement; they are essentially refugee camps. They are worse than facilities for refugees from civil war areas in the outskirts of Europe.

Listening to Camila’s story painted a rough situation in my mind. It seemed the temporary tents of the refugee camps had collapsed due to the heavy snowfall overnight. It’s a no-brainer.

I put down the document I was reading and offered hot chocolate to Camila, knowing she’d complain about it too.

“Don’t take that route; it’s dangerous, Camila. What will you do if the refugees come at you with knives?”

Camila chuckled and pretended to pull a trigger with her right index finger.

“But there are soldiers with guns right next to me, aren’t there?”

“Oh, then it’s fine.”

After four Inquisition officers were murdered, the military government headquarters assigned bodyguards to Camila and her group.

Places like hotels or military government buildings, where safety is ensured, are fine, but even going to the front line or nearby parks now comes with heavily armed soldiers and combat magicians in tow.

Honestly, what meaning does magic have against someone who can chew bullets and withstand attacks from Inquisition officers…?

Still, it should be safer than wandering around alone.

“Oh, right. I brought the list here.”

Camila pulled out a document. It was the list of apostates and missing persons managed by the Inquisition.

As she handed over the list, Camila sipped her hot chocolate.

“I went through the apostate list, but there were no matches with the person you mentioned.”

When I brought Camila back from behind, I didn’t explain what was happening in the North.

I thought it might only add to her worries, and I didn’t want her to get involved in this; I just played it off as an extension of the investigation into the terrorism incident, just like when I first handed over the list.

To my great relief, Camila didn’t pry. She took another sip of hot chocolate and then asked.

“Is this the list of missing persons?”

“Yes, I was supposed to show it to you today.”

I picked up the apostate list first.

The sound of paper rustling continued as I scrolled through the names of the apostates, shaking my head and closing the list.

“There are none among the apostates.”

I opened the missing persons list.

Unlike the apostate list, the missing persons list was considerably thicker.

As I examined those categorized by the area where they disappeared, the year, and their activities, Camila, who was sipping her hot chocolate, suddenly spoke up.

“Um….”

“What is it?”

“About the person you’re looking for. They’re dangerous, right?”

I answered without taking my eyes off the documents.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Camila said.

“Even if no one says anything, the atmosphere has suddenly shifted, and the Imperial Ministry of Defense assigned bodyguards, so it seems like something bad is going down. Considering the situation, it feels like it’s related to the person you’re looking for….”

“….”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

I paused for a moment, staring at the papers, before finally meeting Camila’s gaze with a small sigh.

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s not that serious.”

“Really? There aren’t any problems, right?”

“Of course not.”

I smiled broadly.

“There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

*

After the delivery of the Duke’s letter, the Cult and the Empire began to move closely together, but they didn’t have a miraculous solution to solve the incident overnight.

The Cult and the Empire decided to invest all their resources into quickly resolving the North’s situation.

The joint investigation team formed between the Inquisition and the Imperial Ministry of Magic is set to handle a variety of tasks, including tracking down monks, eliminating the undead, and searching for missing villagers.

Of course, investigations into the suspects who killed the Imperial Army Combat Magician, the Magic Department Investigator, and the Imperial Army escort unit will be conducted separately. Since a cleric of the Cult is identified as a suspect in the murder case, that investigation was decided to be handled solely by the Imperial Ministry of Magic, separate from the joint investigation with the Inquisition.

In any case, the Cult and the Empire decided to put in their utmost effort to capture the perpetrator, and as a result, an Inquisition Information Officer and several officials from the Imperial Ministry of Magic visited the Cathedral of Saint Basil in the North to meet with a victim who holds the key to solving the case.

“Oh dear.”

I bowed to the victim lying in the hospital bed.

“How are you feeling, Priest Rebecca?”

“Oh, it’s you, Colonel.”

Priest Rebecca responded with a nod. She lay in bed, bandaged all over her body.

“I came by because I heard people from the Inquisition and the Ministry of Magic were going back and forth. I actually wanted to visit you a few days ago, but the healing priests wouldn’t allow it. It seems like external visitors are allowed now, so I came to check on you.”

“It seems you couldn’t have external visitors before since your condition wasn’t very good.”

“How are you feeling now?”

“I’m much better.”

I’ve never met a person who said they were okay and actually looked healthy. Sure enough, Priest Rebecca looked remarkably gaunt.

Even sitting still in bed, she was sweating profusely and occasionally grimacing in pain.

Suddenly feeling a sharp pain, she grimaced and pressed the button on the device resting on her knees. After pressing it, about a minute…

She, who had been sitting with a distorted face waiting, regained her calmness as if nothing had happened.

I figured out the identity of the button she was pressing.

“Is it a painkiller?”

“Yes.”

A narcotic painkiller.

It’s a medication used to tackle powerful pain, like that arising from post-surgical recovery. Usually, people who have been in major accidents, undergone significant surgery, or cancer patients are prescribed these by their doctor.

Typically, terminal cancer patients receive narcotic painkillers, and when you see firsthand the immense suffering they endure, it’s easy to understand why they have to rely on them.

From that perspective, the pain that Priest Rebecca is experiencing could be considered comparable to that of a terminal cancer patient.

I stared vacantly at the bandages wrapped snugly around Priest Rebecca’s arm.

“Did you pull it?”

Priest Rebecca nodded.

“By that Inquisitor guy?”

“…Yes.”

After a slight pause, Priest Rebecca nodded heavily.

The bandages covered her arm from the elbow, where the bicep begins, all the way to her shoulder. Upon closer inspection, the skin beneath the bandages—specifically at the shoulder joint—was darkened.

Skin necrosis. That injury was definitely caused by that Inquisitor.

I smacked my lips and remarked, “At least it’s your arm. I got stabbed in the abdomen and chest…”

“I caught a glimpse of the scars you still have from the transfer, but it’s a miracle you’re alive.”

“It’s practically a miracle, indeed.”

Like Priest Rebecca, I too was experiencing the ongoing decay of my wounds. I didn’t know the cause, nor did I have any treatment.

For now, if I took the painkillers, I could at least move, but from the moment the painkiller’s effect faded, a terrible agony began to surge. For now, thanks to the holy water from the Cathedral and Lucia’s efforts, the flesh wasn’t rotting away any further, so that was a small comfort, at least.

I poured some holy water into a cup provided in the hospital room. Then I took out the painkillers and tossed them into my mouth.

“So even after going through all that, you can still move around?”

“The Saint said I’m a living corpse.”

Most of the time, I felt fine. As long as I took the effective painkillers, even though I felt a bit stiff, I didn’t feel any pain.

But as soon as the effect wears off or when I take off my clothes to wash, I’m abruptly reminded of the reality as I look at the blackening flesh covering my torso.

“If the blade had gone in just a bit deeper, I’d be dead by now. For now, I’m fine, but as time goes on, the symptoms will worsen. What about you, Priest Rebecca?”

“I don’t know. The healing priests have looked at it, but they can’t say when the injury will heal.”

Priest Rebecca looked down at her bandaged arm and added in a gloomy voice, “I might never be able to use this arm again. If it gets worse, the bone might even decay.”

“That’s unfortunate. I wish you a speedy recovery.”

“Yes, I hope so too. But why are you here? From your last visit, it seems like you have something to discuss.”

I settled my bottom onto the chair provided for guardians beside the hospital bed.

“Oh, I have something to say and some questions to ask.”

Murder cases, terror incidents, spiders attacking the rift, those irritating magic users from the Magic Tower, and the tasks commanded by Clevenz. There’s so much to do.

But there’s a more urgent matter at hand.

I rummaged through the document bag I had brought and handed some papers to Priest Rebecca.

“First, please take a look at this.”

“What’s this…?”

Priest Rebecca trailed off mid-sentence.

She glanced at the paper in her hand, then looked up at me.

“Where did you find this?”

“It’s a missing persons list.”

On the paper held by Priest Rebecca were the details of a monk. And that monk was someone we were all too familiar with.

Pretending to help people while wandering around remote villages in the North.

Spreading dangerous sorcery to children.

Suspected of providing the dark magic used in the terror incident.

After stepping on his tail, he killed four Inquisition officers and vanished.

“I found that Inquisitor brat.”

It’s that guy.

*

A few weeks ago, Director Petrus urgently visited the Kien Empire.

The Imperial Army combat magicians, who had been dispatched to assist the units guarding the rift against a suddenly manifested monster, were discovered as corpses in a gorge, and a cleric from the Cult was named as a suspect in the murder case.

To clearly state that the Cult is not behind this incident, the Inquisition Director, Petrus, was sent as a special envoy to the Kien Empire.

Together with Francesca, he crossed over to the Magic Tower, contacted Victor, and called me back to the diplomat’s residence, where he handed me a list.

It was a list of heretics and missing persons managed by the Inquisition.

From that list, I discovered the monk who killed the four Inquisition officers.

“Real name: Romain Cheire. A monk from the Kingdom of Mamraka in the northern Mauritania continent. Cheire, who is of Franji-Mamrakan mixed descent, came to the continent with his father at a young age and converted with his parents, receiving the baptismal name Agatho from the Cult and became a monk.”

The man in the photo looked like someone you could find anywhere on the continent, yet he had a somewhat exotic appearance.

Next to fellow monks, smiling brightly, he looked much younger than when we met him in that remote village in the North.

“After that, Cheire lived as a monk through several dioceses until he became a priest-monk. Official records state that around the time he was appointed as a priest-monk, he moved over to the Mauritania continent to work as a missionary.”

I tapped the bottom of the page that Priest Rebecca was holding. A clearly stamped identification from the Inquisition was copied at the bottom of the missing persons list.

“According to the Inquisition’s documents, it states he wasn’t a missionary, but rather acted as a combat priest assisting the exorcist.”

Real name Romain Cheire, baptismal name Agatho, his whereabouts didn’t end there.

As a combat priest, he roamed the Mauritania continent with an exorcist and successfully completed several missions assigned by the Inquisition.

However, after reporting that the mission was successful, Romain Cheire suddenly went missing one day, disappearing along with the exorcist he was with.

The page that Priest Rebecca handed over included a photo taken before leaving his house, alongside other exorcists.

In that photo, standing next to other priests were a middle-aged Romain Cheire and a gray-haired old priest. This photo was the last recorded trace of Romain and the exorcist he was with, which the Inquisition had secured.

I pointed at that photo. Specifically, the year and date noted beneath it.

“This photo was taken on December 17, 1981. Almost 20 years old.”

In that photo from over a decade ago, Romain Cheire looked like a typical middle-aged man.

And just a few days ago, the Romain Cheire I met in that remote village in the North also looked like a typical middle-aged man.

“Then why the heck hasn’t this guy aged at all?”

 

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