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I checked the ongoing business aside from chasing cultists in the necropolis.

-‘The communication signal is pretty awful. Where are you?’

“Underground. Both the radio and magic waves are not working, so it’s been a struggle.”

As soon as the connection was established, I informed Matt about the current situation. We had arrived at our destination.

Matt sighed in relief, saying it was a good thing.

-‘So it seems you made it safely.’

Holding a communication device as thick as a brick, I continued the conversation with Matt. With some battery issues, it wasn’t beneficial to prolong the communication, so we wrapped it up with a Q&A format.

“What’s the situation with Asen and Sanya?”

-‘According to the intel you gathered, both warlords have launched an offensive.’

Today, as the war entered its third month, the warlords’ assault had begun again.

Of course, we had gotten wind of this news long ago. Hassan’s intelligence, having evaded the flames of conflict, was known to be the best among the three warlords.

Matt noted the timing of the warlords’ offensive right before the upcoming pilgrimage to Al-Yabd.

-‘Since the pilgrimage is a sacred religious ceremony of Al-Yabd, they wouldn’t want a bloody fight during an auspicious period. It’s likely that the offensive will end with the start of the pilgrimage.’

“As long as one of Asen or Sanya doesn’t fall behind, they’ll probably enter a truce around that time.”

I urged for an enhanced intel collection on Asen and Sanya. If it was someone like Matt, he’d handle it without a problem.

Once the brief task discussion wrapped up, some casual chatter commenced. Well, casual by our standards.

“Are Camila and Lucia safe?”

-‘The hero and saint are always the same. The hero went into No Man’s Land with the Peacekeeping Force and took out another monster. An Arachne. A giant spider big enough to take on a seven-story building.’

A spider, huh? They had just taken down a building-sized monster in the Northern Regions of the Empire, and now had another spider encounter. Honestly, I was out of surprise power at this point.

Camila, deployed as a firefighter into No Man’s Land, was sweeping through monsters like a fish in water, setting new records every day. I wondered if she wasn’t overdoing it, but well…

Anyway, it was a relief to hear they were safe.

After the news about Camila, I received updates about Lucia. Stationed at the refugee camp and caring for patients, she heard rumors of casualties in the border area and headed to the frontlines with priests from the council.

For reference, the frontlines were not far from the area where Camila was operating. The reason for the casualties was due to the shamans.

-‘It seems the warlord’s kids are on the brink of collapse. Having heard you arrived, the Government Army launched a preemptive strike on the rebel-occupied areas, but they ended up losing, and two cities fell into the hands of the warlords.’

“Ugh… these fucking idiots…”

-‘The good news, if there’s any, is that the warlords have tolerated the saint’s humanitarian efforts. They guaranteed safety on the condition that only civilian casualties are dealt with.’

“What about the civilian casualties from the Government Army?”

-‘That’s not something they’ll help with. They can rescue civilians, but they won’t allow heathens to interfere with Mauritania’s affairs. Treatment is only permitted for civilians, and they’ve warned that if you treat Government Army personnel, they’ll blow up the hospital.’

What a maddening scenario. Al-Qaeda or the Taliban, who knows?

I took a drag from my cigarette, scowling. I was determined to deal with the warlords from neighboring countries soon.

Just as I was about to wrap up the communication, Matt asked me a question.

-‘By the way, how’s the necropolis? Have you made contact with the collaborator?’

“Ah, well…”

I did manage to find a collaborator.

But their condition was a bit…

I trailed off awkwardly and turned my head.

In my line of sight was a magician, shaking a bottle of booze and marijuana while getting his groove on.

—

Episode 17 – The Tree That Drinks Blood

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As Matt wrapped up communication and prepared to contact the warlords, the magician, who was shaking his hips energetically, introduced himself.

“I’m Joaquin Rapha Goodman’s the name, but everybody just calls me Joaquin!”

Joaquin Goodman. That was the name of this magician.

“They say Joaquin, but I’d rather be called by my last name.”

Contrary to the nice meaning of the surname “Goodman,” Joaquin’s condition was the opposite.

His hair was a wild mess, and, well, he seemed to have forgotten the concept of laundry, with his stretched-out shirt stained with drool.

It wasn’t just one or two problems.

“Uh… did I leave a bottle of booze here? Or is this… no, it’s a reagent. When did I even make this…?”

Joaquin was rummaging through a cabinet filled with unrecognizable glass bottles, mumbling to himself. He looked like a complete madman.

Sure, hygiene was clearly shattered, but when someone is out of it, that happens, right?

Storing reagents and utensils together was similar to what Ayla did back in the day due to the cramped workshop. Sure, I’ll go with that.

But this guy’s clearly a junkie!

“…Found it! Ha ha!”

As Joaquin dug through the chaotic mess, he waved something around. It was a whiskey bottle caked with grime.

The 50-degree liquor sloshed inside, and Joaquin promptly popped the cap and shoved the bottle’s neck into his mouth, blowing the bottle’s top off in one swift movement.

-Glug, glug…!

Each time the poison slipped down, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

The crazed magician downed the entire bottle in one breath before grabbing the marijuana he had been holding.

“Ahh— this is it, baby….”

“…….”

Setting the bottle down with a loud thud, the magician continued with his introduction. Or rather, it was just rambling in a drug-fueled haze.

“I’d prefer being called Goodman, but I don’t mind whatever you say. Goodman, Joaquin, Rapha, you over there, you, darling….”

“…….”

“But who are you? Who just strutted into my place like it’s nobody’s business? Huh?!”

Wobbling and rambling.

Avoiding my gaze from the incoherent Joaquin, I looked at Francesca.

“…Was this really our best option?”

Francesca shrugged as she surveyed the workshop.

“This place is insane. A guy like Joaquin is pretty normal around here. But he does get things done, so trust him.”

“We probably should have gotten him off the weed first….”

Sure enough, there was a loud crash! The magician ran across the living room, dove into the bathroom, flung the window open, and shouted.

“I am the king of the world!”

“…….”

I found myself staring at the void, finally looking up at the ceiling. It felt like tears would spill out if I didn’t do something.

One alchemist, one mercenary, one beastman, and one nymph.

And a junkie completely losing his mind.

What a maddening combo. What the hell do I do?

—

No clue where this idiot came from, but regardless of the situation, I had to take action.

We decided to stick to the plan for now.

“We’re going to search for the cultist group from here. Judging by the time, those who crossed the border from the camp likely entered this city around yesterday.”

Having joined forces with our internal collaborator, we began the search for the cultists.

I was the one commanding the operation.

I assigned the information officers their tasks.

“In order to pinpoint the exact location of the object, we first need to know the whereabouts of the cultists. The limits of our tracking magical tools are clear, so we’ll track them without magic tools. Kair?”

“Nya.”

“You’re going to find their approximate location.”

If there’s a difference between this town and the global community, it’s the presence of various intelligent beings.

In terms of maintaining world order centered around humans, there isn’t much difference between the two towns; however, the existence of intelligent races beyond humans is a unique characteristic of this place.

Beastmen are known to be the most sensitive among the intelligent races. This includes exceptional hearing and sight, as well as touch, taste, and smell.

We’re going to utilize that very trait to locate the cultists.

I took a large sealed container out of my bag and placed it on the table. It was tightly sealed to keep the air out, and inside was a scrap of tattered clothing.

“This is part of the clothing collected from the barbed wire at the edge of the camp. We ran the surveillance equipment and found that the cultists’ group got caught trying to breach the fence.”

This is exactly the clothing they left behind at that moment.

“…Sniff sniff.”

Kair opened the sealed container and smelled it. Even though I had just cracked it open slightly, the reaction was immediate.

With twitching ears and bristling fur, Kair propelled herself up to the roof with the unique jumping ability of the beastmen.

I closed the container and continued explaining.

“Now that Kair is using her sense of smell to find the area where their scent is coming from, I’ll search that direction. With the tracker.”

The tracker left by the warlord is merely for civilian use, but magic is still magic.

Even the tiniest magic power can indicate direction once detected. If I weave through the area to avoid suspicion and move in the direction indicated by the tracker, at some point, the clear traces of the tracking magic will be caught within the net.

That will be the base of the cultists.

“I found the scent. The direction is west. It’s a distance away from here.”

Returning from the search, Kair tapped the compass with her fingernail, pointing toward the direction where they were.

I gathered my tracker and looked at the three of them.

“Since we’ve pinpointed the location, let’s move. Francesca, follow me, and Kair, check the exact location once more.”

“Ah… where is this Charnoy going…?”

Charnoy, who had been sitting at the table, raised her hand with a question. While I was gathering equipment for the outing, I handed my coat to Francesca and spoke up.

“You stay here.”

“…Eh? What do you mean by that…?”

Someone needs to stay to guard the luggage.

While Kair adjusted the sling of her assault rifle, I opened the door for Kair to exit. I also handed Charnoy a radio and some candy (containing 0.002% synthetic honey).

“Keep an eye on the equipment. As soon as that fellow comes to her senses, radio us.”

“The damn Black-haired Beast is abandoning Charnoy…!”

I could hear Charnoy’s complaints about things like distasteful actions of nymphs and filing complaints with the labor department.

However, Charnoy’s cries, unfortunately, couldn’t make it through the iron door.

Having closed the door with a bang, I walked west with Francesca.

*

The search was conducted cautiously.

-‘From the south to the west. The scent comes from the direction where I feel the airflow.’

Kair was continually sending radio messages while hopping across the rooftops.

If a beastman jumps between buildings in a big city, the police would come out and impose a fine, but this isn’t a big city; it’s the Necropolis.

A city built by magicians for magicians.

An underground magic tower where no public authority reaches.

“I just looked around, but found nothing.”

“It might be because of the buildings and plants. The magic power diminishes with every object it passes through.”

Francesca observed the scenery of the Necropolis. Then she shared the information she had gathered.

“I just found out. All the plants and animals here contain magic power. It’s not a natural phenomenon.”

“They are probably artificially cultivated plants.”

“That could be one reason, but it seems more likely due to the variety. Plants used in magical potions have more magic power than others.”

I looked over the plants scattered around as I listened to her explanation.

Garden beds, greenhouses for plant cultivation, pots in the windowsills, and even cracks on main roads.

The plants blooming throughout the city were imbued with magic power. All of them were magical plants used for alchemy and magic.

“It’s quite fascinating to see plants everywhere. You can’t grow those kinds of plants without permission.”

“They need to be cultivated in designated locations. The magic tower regulates indiscriminate cultivation, but it seems that’s not the case here.”

“Because it’s the Necropolis.”

Those who have violated the rules and been expelled from magic society aren’t likely to have a sense of lawfulness. If they hadn’t done what they were told not to, they wouldn’t be living here in the first place.

I concealed the detector and posed the question I had been wanting to ask since earlier.

“By the way, how did Joaquin get expelled from the magic tower? Did he break the rules?”

“Well, he didn’t break the rules. He did violate school regulations and criminal laws, though.”

Apparently, Joaquin, who was recruited as an internal collaborator, wasn’t an expelled student. Expulsion is a heavy penalty applied only when the rules are broken.

Francesca explained that he is a criminal who broke the laws of the magic tower. It was also added that he fled the tower after committing an illegal act to escape punishment.

What kind of crime did he commit to end up here?

With that question lingering in my mind, I asked again, and Francesca began speaking with an indifferent expression.

“He got caught growing marijuana in the greenhouse of the Department of Alchemy.”

“…Ah. Well, I guess he was growing drugs to pay for tuition.”

“No, he was growing it for himself. He was growing weed in his apartment, and then a complaint was lodged.”

“……”

What a headache this is!

I decided to stop thinking about the utterly incomprehensible past of this collaborator. I plunged into the alleys of the Necropolis with the tracker in hand.

Just less than a day after I entered this city, I had already seen the depths of its underbelly in just half a day. The back alleys of the Necropolis were that grim.

Proving that there’s always a deeper darkness.

As I scoured the depths, I began to slow my pace at some point.

“……”

A faint green light appeared on the tracking magical tool.

“It’s lit.”

Right direction.

I held the magical tool in my left hand while my right hand rested on my hip, ready to draw my weapon at any moment.

-Beep… Beep…

The green dot moves along the perimeter.

No matter how I turned my body, the direction indicated by the magical tool was always the same.

-Beep…

I moved out of the alley, crossed the street, turned around a wall, and went up some stairs. The faint dot emitted an even brighter light.

The distance grew shorter, and the moment the dot pointed in one direction.

-Ding!

Hearing the soft beep, I raised my head and surveyed the surroundings.

“…Francesca.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“Prepare for long-distance communication magic.”

“What’s the destination?”

“Refugee Camp.”

I turned off the detector and changed my course.

“Send a message that we’ve found them.”

 

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