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The darkness-laden alley was crossed by a stray bullet.

For a moment, a fist-sized metal projectile flew through the air at high speed, then the rounded shell collided with the ground.

There was no explosion.

The bullet that hit the asphalt tumbled along the road, dispersing pale smoke in all directions.

‘…Is it a dud?’

So, it wasn’t odd for Martinez to think of a dud shell upon witnessing one that did not explode and only spewed smoke.

Suddenly arising smoke caused a pack of dogs still carrying their instincts to abandon their attack on humans and instead run about in confusion.

The ambush had failed, but that was no concern.

The undead, controlled by thoughts, would follow their master’s commands regardless of instinct. And it wasn’t only Martinez who had his vision obscured.

Using the smoke as a shield, Martinez dusted off the mud-stained hem of his clothes and stood up. Perhaps due to concerns about stray bullets, gunfire had stopped altogether.

Approaching him as he rose was his loyal subordinate, Ahmad bin Rabani, who began to assist Martinez.

“Sir.”

Martinez directed his gaze towards Ahmad.

Had he left the hotel as soon as he received contact? Ahmad’s attire was exceedingly light.

“…What about the contract?”

At the softly asked question, Ahmad shook his head with a grim expression.

“There’s been no response.”

“…Damn.”

Even after devouring such offerings, they still wash their mouths. Truly, demons cannot be trusted.

But there was no stopping here.

Having come this far, how could he halt just because a little went awry?

Supported by Ahmad, Martinez poured magic into the magic circle. The unstable spell flickered brightly, transforming into a veil.

No words were exchanged, but he already knew what needed to be done from here.

He patted Ahmad on the shoulder, and Ahmad nodded heavily.

“…Go.”

As the dense smoke began to dissipate, what remained in the alley was a pack of dogs baring their teeth and the magician who chose to stay behind.

Only the quasi-military operatives with guns were left.

—

Episode 13 – No Country for Magicians

—

“What happened?”

At the flippantly tossed question, I heard Pippin’s response.

-‘One adult male has fled the scene. He’s located 275 meters to the east… No, it’s actually 286 meters. Identified as Martinez.’

“What about the staff?”

-‘They are in a standoff with the magician. A new magician has entered the conflict, and it seems to be Ahmad bin Rabani.’

In a standoff.

That didn’t mean fighting was happening.

“Do you think medical support is necessary?”

Through the radio, I heard the rustling of paper. After a brief pause, Pippin contacted me again right after communicating with the operations team.

-‘No casualties reported.’

“Any specifics?”

-‘It seems there have been reports of undead taking on the form of dogs. It looks like they are related to the undead encountered in the village mentioned in your previous report, Manager. As predicted by the lead analyst who supported the operations team, it appears that Martinez and his crew are necromancers.’

Undead. A new magician. Necromancer.

Just a month ago, such a report would have thrown me into a frenzy, but my reaction was notably lukewarm. Other quasi-military operatives of the Royal Intelligence Department listening to the report were similar.

As Pippin continued with the analysis, I passed through the shadowy alley and casually remarked.

“They fired a shell?”

-‘Yes.’

Pippin confirmed.

-‘The field team launched the shell from the air just as the protective magic activated. The gas was released without issues.’

“Did anyone inhale it?”

-‘None of the team members inhaled the gas. They evacuated immediately after it was released. However, Martinez and Ahmad definitely seemed to have inhaled some. They’ve been on site for nearly a minute, so even a small amount would have affected them.’

“…Is that so?”

I nodded and lifted my finger off the button.

“Then they’ll soon be dead.”

The dead radio flickered its green light and stopped functioning. With radio silence initiated, they wouldn’t be able to track our location.

Emerging from the alley, I suddenly looked up to the sky.

In the thick darkness, sparkling white snowflakes tickled the bridge of my nose.

The gloomy sky of the snow-covered northern regions.

As swirling clouds surged like a typhoon filled my vision, I discreetly closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“……”

The end was in sight.

—

“…It’s over.”

As he struggled to lift his gaze, Martinez emerged from the long tunnel into a snow country.

Seeing the world covered in pure white snow made Martinez reminisce about the snow country.

The freshly fallen pristine snow formed fields.

The expanse of land stretched all the way to the horizon, as snowballs piled high glowed white in the darkness.

It wasn’t only the snowballs in the snowy field that shimmered.

Like the morning dew gently washing over the land, delicate snowflakes glittered as they descended to the ground.

That scene. The starlight flowing through the snowy plain. The landscape imprinted in his eyes.

It was incredibly beautiful.

“……”

A railroad running across the empty snowy field.

Having followed the sturdy tracks that extended straight long before entering the tunnel, Martinez plopped down onto the snowfield.

“Ha…”

Captivated by the majestic scene, he couldn’t help but clutch his chest and release a trembling breath.

His chest ached, and his breath was ragged.

With every inhale, his expanded lungs screamed as if they were about to burst.

The pain that felt like thousands of needles stabbing between his ribs and into his flesh seemed to urge him to rip his chest open and pull out his lungs.

The discomfort had not lessened since meeting Ahmad.

At first, he thought perhaps he had been injured when hit by a car and rolled along the road, but after inspecting his body with the magic he barely managed to draw in, he realized that the pain in his chest was absolutely not due to trauma or external shocks.

His lungs had been completely wrecked. Though his ribs were intact except for a slight crack, there was blood flowing from his lungs.

Why?

He questioned himself, but no answers surfaced.

At that moment, a hypothesis flickered through his mind.

A long time ago, during a monster subjugation operation in the Mauritania Continent, he had heard a story from a soldier. There was a weapon developed for killing magicians and priests.

He had never seen it himself, merely heard it as a rumor between officers, yet similar grotesque rumors had circulated among magicians too.

It was said that the imperial army possessed a poison that was impervious to both magic and divinity. Just a small sip would render one unconscious, or destroy their lungs, and only a priest of bishop rank or higher could detoxify it with divinity, or that using magic would immediately cost one their life.

The target of the rumors was not limited to the Empire. Magicians from Abas, Patalia, and the Lushan Federation had spoken similarly.

He had thought it was just conspiracy theory nonsense.

“…Damn.”

Stumbling his way as he struggled to stay upright, Martinez finally sank down, resting. Ignoring how the sharp stones tangled with his pants and cape, he crawled on the ground and leaned against the tunnel’s wall.

The situation had unraveled.

The plan was in disarray, and the operation had failed.

He had invested a full 20 years, perhaps his entire life as a magician, into a plan that had come crashing down.

The optimal strategy he had prided himself on had collapsed entirely due to the unexpected arrival of the hero and his party. The vile saint’s sacred bullet had pierced the demon’s heart.

Perhaps it had been foretold that failure was inevitable the moment the duke allowed the Inquisition to station in the area. No, it might have been evident even earlier when the inquisitors first sensed the demon’s presence and visited the northern villages.

For two weeks, he had tried with his subordinates to come up with alternatives, but that too had failed.

Before they could establish a concrete plan, he lost subordinates at the hands of the intruder and found himself reduced to this fleeing state.

“…Ha.”

Choking down the hot liquid that rose from his innards, a sigh that could be a lament or frustration flowed out of him.

Forgetting the pain pricking his nails, Martinez pushed himself up using the wall, moving his unsteady legs to hasten his steps.

The plan has failed, but it’s not over yet.

Even if the name is erased from the plaque of the school and I’m expelled from the Magic Tower, with the Magic Battalion hot on my heels. Even if the damned Inquisition’s army is scouring the entire continent like a whirlwind. There’s still an opportunity left.

As long as I survive, I can rise again at any time.

So while I still have strength, I must escape the Northern Regions as quickly as possible.

Amidst vague thoughts of whether it was a justification or an obligation floating in my mind, Martinez managed to rise from his place, moving along the wall as he walked.

Towards the end of a tunnel where a beam of light was shining through.

Just then, as shadows began to loom over the tunnel, he lifted his heavy head and before him unfolded a bizarre sight.

“…”

At the end of the long tunnel lay a snowy country.

A thick blanket of white snow covered everything. The world was full of brilliantly shining snow.

A snowfield stretching out like vast plains, reaching towards the horizon.

A railway boldly crossing over the ground piled high with snowballs.

A woman stood tall at the end of the tunnel where the faint moonlight settled.

The moment Martinez raised his head to see her face, breath escaped from his trembling lips.

*

The woman’s eyes, which had been closed, fluttered open at the small sigh that slipped through the crack.

A pair of violet eyes like violets.

Francesca, who stood on the railway and opened her eyes, gazed at Martinez.

Her gaze directed at him was cold, as cold as the river in midwinter, shining intensely like a moon revealed from behind clouds.

Her voice was as frigid as her gaze.

“Lord Ahmad is fighting with the intention of dying, yet here you are.”

At Francesca’s words, delivered like a casual throw, Martinez’s jaw twitched.

Differing from his usual stoic demeanor, he was clearly emotional now.

Francesca, too, was different.

She used to greet everyone with a bright smile, but now she wore a blank expression. The smile was severed, and her expression combined with her cold gaze and icy voice conjured the image of a watercolor painting of a lifeless figure.

“…Did you know?”

“I had my suspicions.”

“…Since when?”

“When I realized you were hiding something from me.”

Gone was the soft tone; only a wooden and hard tone flowed from her lips.

Martinez’s expression hardened at Francesca’s behavior, which was distinctly different from her usual self.

“May I ask just one thing?”

“Please do, Lady Ranieri.”

“That day.”

December 31st. The day the demon revealed itself to the world.

“The mages flying in the sky over Orventzku died. Public Security claims the magic that killed the mages was from the Protection School.”

“….”

“Was it you?”

Martinez fell silent. Silence was an answer.

After a moment of gasping breaths, he uttered a lament mixed with a dry cough.

“Did you know why I am doing this?”

“….”

Silence returned as the answer.

With that, the magician stepped forward and appealed to the descendant of the Archmage.

“Independence is what all in the Magic Tower wish for. It’s the dream of the mages.”

The Magic Tower is located in the southern part of the Empire, in the city of Nastasia.

Long ago, the previous emperor worried about his sister who participated in the war against the Cult, thus becoming the patron of the Magic Tower. That sister is none other than the Duchess of the Northern Regions.

Because of that, mages from all over the world have been able to establish themselves in the southern city of the Empire, Nastasia, for the past hundred years.

However, immediately after the emperor died of illness, the current Emperor Nikolai VI used his youth as a pretense to stage a coup and ended up claiming regency, changing everything.

The Empire, which had claimed to be the patron of the Magic Tower, turned its back. The regent, who usurped the throne from the previous emperor, did not recognize the Magic Tower as a legitimate state, signing treaties with the Pope.

Later, as the grown Nikolai VI staged another coup with the military to reclaim the throne, consolidating power after purging bureaucrats, the situation did not change. Though the emperor denied all the regent’s achievements and policies, there was one thing left untouched. The tough Magic Tower policy remained.

“The Empire has betrayed us twice.”

“….”

“We’ve lived the past hundred years treated like parasites.”

“…So?”

Francesca spat out.

“What does that have to do with this?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I don’t care what you do. Whether you make a deal with a demon, corner the Empire, or oppose the Cult. I’m not looking favorably upon your opinions, and I’m definitely not on your side, but…”

Martinez stared blankly at Francesca. Her indifferent voice continued.

“If you had told me the truth, I might have informed the Oracle that you were a Necromancer, yet I wouldn’t have come here myself. But you deceived me.”

“That’s….”

“Then you used me as a means to achieve your ends, didn’t you?”

The abruptly spat words came with tightly sealed lips.

Francesca’s lips parted.

“It’s not the mages’ dream.”

Her cold voice delivered the closing line.

“It’s for your plan.”

A butterfly flew into Martinez’s vision, its graceful flutter gliding through the air like a breeze racing across the plains, swirling around before landing on a blue blade.

Strange symbols etched on the blade pulsed with magic as it turned a vibrant blue.

“Whatever your goal is, no matter how important it may be, the fact remains that you deceived me, killed mages, and fled alone to save your skin.”

Francesca raised the rune sword that scattered pale blue light.

The gear floating behind her spun rapidly, gathering pebbles to form a body.

In her hand, there was a vial filled with brilliantly glowing poison.

“Except for wars between nations and rightful duels, a mage taking another mage’s life is a serious crime. No matter the reason.”

But there is one exception.

Even the Oracle does not condemn the act of killing a traitorous mage.

“And you deceived me, made a deal with a demon, and killed a mage.”

The descendant of the Archmage wielding the ancestral sword spoke to the Necromancer.

It was a declaration.

“I must know the reason before you die.”

Green magic penetrated the rituals drawn in the air.

A green veil filled the vision.

A massive fist shook the barrier, and a viscous fluid corroded concrete and steel.

While the precariously swaying magic scattered like the fluttering of butterflies.

The blue blade sliced through the air.

A world blanketed in pure white snow.

A thick layer of snow formed fields, while snowballs covering the land at the edge of the horizon glimmered brightly in the darkness.

Tiny snowflakes sparkled as they descended to the ground.

Starlight flowing through the snowfield filled Francesca’s eyes.

Pale blue magic flickered chaotically in every direction, filling the view.

Amidst the bewitching spectacle, Martinez closed his eyes.

The moon hanging in the clouds plummeted toward the inverted world.

*

-“Confirmation of the deaths of Karim Boumediene, Ahmad Bin Rabani, and Juan Pablo Martinez.

Personnel deployed on-site, please move to the designated spot and prepare to dispose of equipment and documents before extraction.

Thank you for your hard work.”

 

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