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As January swiftly approaches its midpoint, the biting winds of the North remain unyielding.

Unlike Patalia, where the warm sunlight spills down despite the chilly breeze, the skies of the Kien Empire are shrouded in gloom and dreariness once more today.

Under the muted, brownish sky as twilight descends.

Inside a store, a faint light spills out.

“You’ve arrived.”

There stood a magician.

Episode 13 – A Country for Magicians Does Not Exist

In the North, where not even the smallest light can shine through the darkness, only the dim moonlight and starlight push back the shadows.

Even as the thick, prolonged darkness enveloped the city, light surged across the night sky down to the ground.

The silver moonlight illuminated the ruins of the city. The buildings, the bricks in between, and the gentle glow faintly brightened even the smallest of crevices.

We gathered at a quaint café in the tranquil city.

Martinez, who arrived first, was sipping on coffee. The cozy little café, which he frequented at least three times a week in the North, had a simple charm to it. Sitting by the window, holding a book while gazing at the frost etched on the glass, it felt as if one could forget hunger and spend an eternal dawn without boredom over a cup of coffee.

I pulled out a chair and greeted him.

“Good to see you, Mr. Martinez. I apologize for contacting you at such a late hour.”

“Not at all.”

Although it had been two weeks since we last met, Martinez showed no particular reaction. He simply sat there, unpretentious.

“It’s been a while.”

“Indeed. I trust you’ve been doing well, Mr. Martinez?”

“Yes.”

Aside from his ethnicity, there was little to distinguish this civil servant from the Magic Tower Secretariat, and his demeanor was as bland as his face.

His tone was businesslike and formal, and his expression was stiff, giving off a cold vibe.

It felt strange having someone usually so taciturn sit there in silence. It’s hard to gauge what he’s thinking.

“Well then, that’s good to hear. I will get straight to the point.”

I addressed Martinez, who was carefully setting his coffee down.

“I heard that a staff member of the Magic Tower Secretariat went missing in the North last month. What happened?”

Even with the sudden inquiry, Martinez had nothing to say.

He maintained his calm expression while meeting my gaze, took a sip of his coffee, and began to speak slowly.

“The details of the matter are currently under investigation.”

Where did I hear that? Who knows?

He didn’t bring up such clichés. Instead, he only responded briefly that it was under investigation.

As I stared at Martinez for a moment, I pulled out my mobile phone from my pocket. The screen showed the time: 10:01 PM. A different timer was flashing, counting from 2 minutes 23 seconds to 2 minutes 24 seconds.

I flipped the mobile phone over and placed it on the table, then rested my intertwined hands beside it.

“You didn’t even report this to Miss Francesca, did you?”

“……”

Martinez kept his mouth shut, his ambiguous expression suggesting whether he was silent or simply choosing his words carefully.

The silence broke the moment I spoke up. I lowered my voice and turned to him.

“Miss Gabi Schneider visited the Administrator. While on her way to Patalia for a special lecture by the renowned scholar Professor Nyaji of the Ivory Tower, she contacted the Administrator, asking for assistance in locating the missing staff member of the Secretariat.”

“…Schneider, you say?”

Nodding my head, I noticed a subtle change in Martinez’s expression.

“It’s a story I heard directly from the party involved. Miss Francesca hopes for Mr. Jean Marbo to return as soon as possible. So, I arranged this meeting to see if you have any information about the whereabouts of the missing staff member.”

“If that’s the case, I would like to help, but unfortunately, I still don’t have precise information…”

“…I see.”

“However, there’s not no way around it.”

After finishing the last sip of his coffee, Martinez set the cup down and continued speaking.

“I know a magician in the North who can find Mr. Jean Marbo, who is missing. He possesses very special abilities.”

“Is there really someone like that?”

“Well, magicians exist in every country. It took some time to inquire, but thanks to the help of friends around me, I managed to make contact for assistance. Would you like to go meet him together?”

Before I could respond, I stole a glance at my flipped mobile phone.

The screen showed one timestamp: 10:49 PM, and another was displaying 50 minutes and 24 seconds.

“…Let’s do it.”

I gathered my phone and stood up.

*

We stepped out onto the streets and walked through the quiet city.

The vague hope that the border conflict would soon come to an end lurked in a corner of everyone’s minds, regardless of status, but the curfews and restrictions proclaimed by the Military Government Headquarters still held firm.

The sight of the Interior Security Forces standing idly in the street, with not even an ant in sight, caught my attention.

“Let’s turn back.”

Naturally, we evaded the military’s gaze, navigating through the darkness of the city.

The vigilance of the military police and interior troops, which had gaps due to the monster attacks, was surprisingly lax. Thanks to that, we arrived at our destination without much trouble.

A crossroads where the streets were engulfed in a deep darkness came into view.

Martinez, who was leading the way, stopped there.

“Let’s wait here until we arrive.”

“Is this the agreed meeting point?”

He silently nodded in affirmation.

“At first, we planned to meet at his residence, but he’s a cautious person, so we agreed to meet outside instead.”

The quirky image is one of the typical stereotypes of a magician.

Hiding away in their workshops, forgoing food and drink to focus on research, dedicating their lives to catch glimpses of the fragments of truth, obsessively passing down their ancestors’ knowledge even till their die.

That’s roughly how the world perceives magicians. And while there are differences by personality, magicians have generally shown characteristics that conform to that image.

For instance, they would strive to prevent outsiders from entering their workshops or homes to avoid distractions in research, or conceal their identities to prevent exposure.

Even magicians living in countries with a magician registration system occasionally show this cautious behavior.

I nodded along as if to agree, showing my understanding to Martinez.

“……”

As two men approached down the dimly lit road, the pale moonlight fell upon them.

Dressed in the distinctive blue uniform of the Interior Security Forces with rifles slung over their shoulders, the two men stopped in front of a flower bed near the intersection.

Even though they noticed Martinez and me violating the curfew, the two men showed no particular reaction.

They sat behind the shadows, lighting up their cigarettes and exhaling lazily.

Martinez quietly began to observe the unexpected presence of uniformed guests. From afar, I could hear a strange cat’s meow echoing down an alley.

Taking out my mobile phone to check messages and looking over at him, I casually asked.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Please feel free.”

With his prompt acceptance, I dove into my first question for Martinez.

“What kind of person is Administrator Francesca to you?”

The Secretariat employee of the Magic Tower answered.

“She is someone to be respected.”

“Respected?”

He nodded, his expression still deadpan.

“Miss Ranieri is truly a point of pride for our Secretariat. While all the great Founding Fathers are enviably respected figures, very few among their descendants can claim the same level of universal respect as a magician.”

“So, you’re saying the Administrator is a magician deserving of that respect.”

“Indeed.”

Martinez continued speaking with an air of awe, as if he were looking up to a truly great figure.

“Since the unveiling of mystery, the magic community has stagnated over the past century. While magicians and the leading figures of their schools tirelessly search for lost legacies, they have no thoughts of exploring beyond that.”

“Hmm.”

“But Miss Ranieri is different. I believe she has the capability to achieve monumental accomplishments that surpass her family’s founding lineage, and qualities to lead magicians towards a brighter future.”

“If she wishes to hold the position of Magic Tower Lord, I would gladly support her.”

In his blunt tone, Martinez wrapped up his thoughts.

“It’s true that Miss Francesca is an impressive person.”

I kept nodding vigorously before throwing out another question.

“What will you do if you find Jean Marbo?”

“Since he’s been absent from his post, an investigation is unavoidable. Depending on the situation, it might even be handed over to Public Security.”

“All I can do for now is hope that Jang returns safely.”

“Were you on friendly terms?”

“A bit.”

Flap! A pigeon, flapping its wings vigorously, lands nearby. The men in military uniforms, having paused their cigarette break, pull snacks from their pockets and scatter them on the ground.

As the pigeon pecks at the crumbs on the ice, I break the silence that hung in the empty street.

“A document from the embassy arrived a few days ago.”

“What did it say?”

“It was the investigation report from the Inquisition.”

The Inquisition of the cult had been investigating a series of incidents in the North alongside the Imperial Ministry of Magic. This was a result of the Duke, a great archmage and the Emperor’s aunt, granting permission for their operations.

Given the substantial uproar among mages active in the North at that time, it was clear how unprecedented the Duke’s actions were.

Just recently, that investigation bore fruit.

“As a result of the joint inquiry between the Inquisition and the Imperial Ministry of Magic, we have uncovered leads regarding the demons and monsters that appeared in the North two weeks ago.”

On December 31st, monsters from Hell revealed themselves.

The monsters were undead that had been resurrected under demonic influence. Those struck by their attacks rose from the dead to assault civilians and the military, setting Orventzku ablaze.

However, Orventzku was not the only city to suffer from these monsters.

“Monsters appeared in major cities, including Novo Nikolayevsk. It turned out they all emerged from the underground sewers.”

The North had spent centuries building and expanding cities. Its underground sewers resembled a vast labyrinth.

Since the outbreak of conflict, the Imperial government had struggled with sewer management and entrusted the task to the mages of the Magic Tower. Francesca gladly accepted and delegated the duties to trusted elite mages.

That mage stood before me now.

“Mr. Martinez, have you ever witnessed anything unusual while wandering the sewers?”

“Unusual, you say?”

Martinez, the person in charge of the sewer maintenance, mumbled ambiguously, his expression remarkably calm.

“I can’t say I’ve felt anything suspicious. I’ve been in and out of the sewers for a month, and neither I nor the other mages have encountered anything odd.”

“Very clever.”

“Well, demons have existed since ancient times.”

The wizard shrugged.

As I glanced at him, I turned my gaze away. Despite the considerable time that had passed, the men in military uniforms remained steadfast in their positions.

Two men tossing several cigarette butts on the ground showed no concern for our violation of the curfew. I turned my eyes away from them.

Martinez posed a question to me.

“Were there any other details in the document?”

“There were.”

I summarized the contents of the paperwork sent by the Inquisition.

“It included information on the movements of demons that rose from various continents and details about the monsters that attacked the rift. Both demons and monsters seemed to have ties to the Mauritania continent.”

“Mauritania is a dangerous continent.”

“I heard you visited there during your adventurer days. What’s it like?”

“It’s a place where the threat of civil war lurks around every corner. Attacks from monsters inhabiting deserts and plains happen daily. Personally, I wouldn’t say it’s a livable area.”

The former adventurer spoke of Mauritania.

“Anywhere you went, for the right price, anything was possible. Corrupt police and military turned a blind eye to the smuggled goods, drugs, weapons, and slaves in the market. As long as you slipped them gold coins, merchants had nothing to fear.”

“Can you also acquire monsters from those merchants?”

“There’s a saying among adventurers: if you can’t get something, it’s because you don’t have enough money.”

A thoroughly capitalist maxim. I chuckled and added.

“So that’s why you quit being an adventurer?”

“I got fed up. Money was never my primary aim.”

“It seems there was something more important to you.”

“There are values that can’t be quantified in monetary terms sometimes. I had a goal more important than money. And that remains true even now.”

“What is that goal?”

“The revival of the Magic Tower.”

I smirked and glanced back at him.

“Power and glory?”

Martinez, who had been quietly listening, shot me a look. Beneath his calm façade, the flames of anger flickered coldly.

“You might know that better than I do, as you’re from Abas.”

It was a question of whether I understood why the Magic Tower, which holds sway in the magical society, still gets caught between powerful nations.

I certainly couldn’t claim ignorance on that front. Having graduated from a history program and worked as an Abas official, I was no stranger to why the Magic Tower had become somewhat crippled.

Feigning an apologetic tone, I replied.

“I meant no offense. Please don’t worry about it.”

“…….”

Martinez, after glancing disdainfully at my smiling face, turned away. Beside him, with an unusually displeased expression, I began to recount the results of the joint investigation that perhaps he wasn’t privy to.

“There was information about demons in the document, but it was confidential, so I didn’t pay much attention. I only know they operated in the Mauritania continent. However, there was something peculiar.”

I brought up the incident at Orventzku, where the destroyed sealing ritual had been left behind.

There were two types of seals for binding demons.

The seal created by exorcist priests centuries ago, known as the Binding Mark. And the barrier and artifacts meticulously crafted by numerous factions within the Magic Tower.

Traditionally, the barrier was the domain of the guardian faction, and they led the development of the barriers that sealed the demons, surpassing the three major factions that had dominated the tower’s political landscape for a century. This was a monumental achievement considering the influence of the three major factions in Magic Tower politics.

However, the barrier developed with great effort by the Magic Tower was a failed creation. Both the Binding Mark and the barrier of the guardian faction failed to seal the demon.

But the most intriguing part of the report wasn’t the failure of the barrier itself, but rather that it had collapsed due to external impact.

I then spoke up.

“The Chief Priest last checked the Binding Mark on the 30th at 18:32. The Chief then handed over the duties to the on-duty priest, after which you, Mr. Martinez, entered the collapsed site to check the barrier?”

Martinez nodded.

“That’s right. The Binding Mark and the barrier were to be managed separately by the Inquisition and the Secretariat.”

“Exactly.”

Yet both were damaged by external impact.

Thus, I posed a question.

“On the day the demon appeared, the 31st, where were you and what were you doing, Mr. Martinez?”

The gaze of the Secretariat mage was fixed on me. After a moment, he glanced at me and then quickly turned away, responding curtly.

“I was sleeping in my lodgings.”

“Hmm.”

“My oversight. I should have checked more thoroughly.”

I waved my hand dismissively.

“I’m not trying to blame you. The reason I brought this up is to ask where the sheets recording the Binding Mark, barrier, and artifacts are.”

“…Sheets?”

“You supervised the site of the collapse on the day of the incident, Mr. Martinez. I couldn’t help but notice that you had meticulously recorded the activities of the Inquisition and the Secretariat. It would be beneficial to submit those records as supplementary materials for the investigation. Where are they now?”

The mage’s gaze shot back to me once more.

Matching his gaze, I smiled subtly and continued.

“Checking the hotel lodging records for the 31st, I found an entry regarding your outings. I assumed that was the reason you left to organize those documents. But Mr. Martinez…”

I, the spy, interrogated the mage.

“Who told you that demons have existed since ancient times?”

“…….”

“I have no recollection of saying such a thing.”

Our gazes intertwined in the air. As we looked at each other, we suddenly turned and bolted in opposite directions.

“Kill him!”

“Open fire!”

Magic and tracer rounds illuminated the darkness of the deserted intersection.

 

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