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“The battles between the Asen Warlord and the Sanya Warlord have entered a lull.”

“After eight weeks of fighting, a ceasefire has been declared, bringing peace after 60 days. However, gunfire continues to erupt near cities bordering the frontlines. It’s unclear whether this lull will lead to lasting peace…”

“The international organization of all Al-Yabd nations, the Al-Yabd Confederation, released a statement urging the cessation of civil war on the 17th, local time. They also issued a stark admonition against shamans operating around the Dead Whale Harbor, declaring, ‘Those who sacrifice innocent lives for personal gain shall be punished in the name of the gods.'”

“The Magic Tower’s School of Sorcery claimed to be uninvolved in the war between shamans on the Mauritania Continent. As it prepares for the election of the Oracle Committee, this stance seems intended to avoid entanglement in political strife while competing against Francesca Ranieri, the candidate from the Elemental School.”

“Meanwhile, the spokesperson for the Ministry of Cult Diplomacy criticized the Magic Tower’s silence over civilian deaths as hypocritical.”

“…Terrorists who kill innocent lives are a global threat. The cult will not remain silent in the face of such violence.”

“We must not fear violence.”

“Fear only empowers those who exploit it for their gain.”

“It’s time for action. Even if blood flows, we must show resolve to prevent the cycle of tragedy.”

—

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

Two months after the operation commenced, with the arrival of summer, the media around the world began to buzz.

The news that the hero and his companions, who had vanquished demons and driven out the monstrous threats from the North, were finally preparing to venture into new territories spread like wildfire.

Those in need welcomed the news.

This hope was particularly palpable in the Mauritania Continent and the Eastern Continent.

Especially in Mauritania, the ongoing war between warlords and the encroaching monsters threatening life with strange supernatural phenomena were a constant danger.

“Well, honestly, solving just one issue won’t improve the situation in the neighborhood.”

“It sounds easy to say ‘solve,’ but with tangled problems like a spider’s web? Sending troops won’t cut it, and how will heroes, saints, or alchemists change that?”

“That may be true, but isn’t hope especially needed in times like this?”

Of course, quite a few were skeptical.

Everyone knew that a hero was a walking strategic weapon, a one-man army. Throughout history, heroes who had left their mark abruptly vanished, each defining their own domains.

Hence, some couldn’t help but be wary of the foreign invasion led by Camila. There were concerns that it was unfair to place such a heavy burden on only one person.

However, the world is an intersection of various fields, and the minority’s opposition cannot overturn the majority’s consensus.

Today, too, I am working to alleviate the worries of the higher-ups.

“In that sense, could you please approve this?”

“What’s this? Showing up right before quitting time?”

“I conducted a survey on armed groups’ activities in the operational area. It focuses on regions expected to be visited by the heroes and their companions.”

An analysis report landed on the table.

With “SCI” stamped in bold red letters, the briefing documents caught Leoni’s uninterested glance as she flipped through the pages.

“Armed groups, terrorist organizations, criminal syndicates… just categorizing human-centric organizations makes my head spin.”

Leoni, who oversaw foreign intelligence and international operations for the Military Intelligence Agency, read the text in a flat tone, like a lawyer reviewing a case file.

“Is that all the report contains?”

“No. There’s more information on multi-species armed groups currently active in the region, such as the Beastmen Alliance, Roaming Orcs, Goblins allied with the rebels, and Dwarves.”

“…”

“If we include the Ivory Tower, the shamans’ community, local religious factions, and Al-Yabd, it would take at least three or four days just to review the materials.”

If it takes that long to review the materials, it essentially means we’ll be stuck in the office for about two weeks. Both Leoni and I writing the reports as well.

That’s likely why Leoni already looked fatigued. I began to grin as I sipped at the cheap coffee mix.

“I’ll wrap this up as quickly as I can.”

Even though Camila is a one-man army, and the Inquisition is backing Lucia, while Francesca has connections that reach the Ivory Tower, it’s not like deploying a team is as straightforward as a day trip.

The personnel to assist the heroes, the volunteers entering alongside them, and security forces needed coordination with civil, military, and governmental bodies from various countries.

Plus, as Northern regions don’t confine themselves to just one country, discussions need to be held with the Mauritania Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Ministry of Defense, and other relevant authorities, each with differing political and religious stances; they’re battling paperwork even before deployment.

In this playground of government bodies and international organizations, how could an information agency miss out?

Thanks to all this, the Military Intelligence Agency is facing unprecedented overload.

Thus, the head of the agency remarked.

“You’re working hard, too.”

“It’s always like this.”

I waved my hand dismissively while chewing on my paper cup.

“Anyway, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs will handle negotiations involving civilian and public entities. That’s their job. We just stick to our usual tasks.”

“I understand.”

“What about the contact with the armed groups?”

“It’s going smoothly. We’ve met with key officials, and arrangements are in place to meet the highest leaders. Nasir has been a great help.”

Sheikh Nasir Al Hassan. He is the leader of the Hassan Warlords and the chief of the group.

With his assistance, I’ve been able to reach out to all organizations stationed in regions where the heroes plan to visit.

“That guy is sharp as a tack.”

Leoni, nodding in agreement, continued.

“He was the best sniper under me. His shooting results were outstanding; he had the best records.”

“Oh, are you referring to the government military officers?”

“Yeah. Those who would bend to the emperor but loved following the emperor’s orders more than those from their own president.”

The head, lost in recollection, moved his gaze toward the window. Where Nasir’s sniper rifle used to rest, there now hung a charred imperial flag from the empire’s royalty, framed.

As she stared at the flag obtained from the battlefield across the sea, she reflexively brushed her forehead.

“Anyway, be well prepared. Whether it’s managing informants or business. Sanya might be cornered, but who knows when it’ll want to align with the empire again? Wrap it up decisively; that’s what the council and committee were berating you for.”

“Understood.”

“As for your answer…”

—

The operation to destabilize the 1st and 2nd groups using the 3rd group of warlords has concluded successfully.

While many estimated the disputes between Asen and Sanya would take at least four more months to settle down, they unexpectedly entered a ceasefire mood in just two months, defying the predictions of the Abas Information Agency.

The two warlords didn’t formally promise a ceasefire.

It was simply that their ammunition and resources had depleted too quickly, leaving them with no choice but to stop fighting.

“The stored supplies and finances of the warlords have run out quicker than anticipated.”

“It’s only natural after they wasted so much initially.”

Klevins, the head of the domestic department responsible for counterintelligence, security, investigations, domestic intelligence, and counter-terrorism, evaluated the fiercely reported conflict between the warlords in a monotonous tone.

“Far more shamans gathered than Sanya could handle. They hired seven times the number of mercenaries as before, so how could there be any capital left?”

Sanya ran out of money to pay the mercenary shamans. They had promised more pay than the salaries guaranteed by the three warlords.

Enticed by money, shamans rushed to Sanya, whose unexpected recruitment of shamans led to an unmanageable army.

“So, they borrowed emergency funds. They received advances from their dealers, and to reduce capital for consumables, they accepted weapons from the empire. Yet the drugs and weapons they promised to pay for went up in smoke, didn’t they?”

“That burned well. Quite the spectacle.”

“Hmm… Was it really that bad? I thought it was terrible. The smell of burning marijuana should be nothing but foul…”

The 2nd group warlords, having cut down on expenditures and hoarded funds to prepare for war, lost their drugs and the aid they had previously received in no time.

The dealer, the Orc mafia, swiftly cut ties with Sanya. Even the shamans who had entered with lofty expectations were dragged down by the situation.

With the situation being what it was, the only option for help was the Reconnaissance Command, but now even that had gone haywire.

“Losing two informants and the supplies provided to the warlords, I can imagine they were in a tight spot.”

“What does the Recon command say?”

“They promptly withdrew their operations.”

The overseas team of the Recon Command pulled out, leaving the 2nd group warlords behind.

While new weapons and ammunition were sent, large-scale aid involving heavy weapons like mortars that had been sent earlier was not part of the deal.

What they sent was essentially a bunch of junk instead of supplies. You know, like the scammers that stuff trash in bags instead of what you ordered.

I calmly evaluated the Recon Command’s intentions.

“In the end, the empire has abandoned the warlords,”

“If conditions improve for Sanya, they might reopen negotiations, but for now, we must view it as support ended. They’ve even pulled the team out completely.”

For reference, that team had remained in the capital, searching for Camila. Despite inflicting casualties and failing their auxiliary mission, the main force had successfully returned to the empire.

I wondered what Camila might be doing now.

Last time we spoke, she seemed deflated after getting scolded by the duke. Should I give her a call later?

Lost in these trivial thoughts, Klevins’ voice broke through. He smiled at me.

“You’ve done well.”

“Not much. The work isn’t finished yet.”

“Though, it’s almost over, right? The shamans left Sanya in dire straits, and the Asen, who were busy blocking the front lines, are in no position to act since they’ve run out of ammunition. It’s just Hassan who reaped the benefits.”

Of course, Abas had also gained something.

The relationship between the 2nd group and the empire was effectively shattered. After barely holding on during the first month, as it became harder for shamans to receive their promised wages from the warlords, they quickly bolted.

Meanwhile, the 1st group was frantic, scrambling to restock their depleted ammunition and recruit needed troops.

Both broke financially and unable to pose their previous might, Sanya and Asen stared each other down, prolonging a war of attrition.

In the meantime, the 3rd group absorbed the trade networks of Sanya to bolster their capital, while also taking in numerous soldiers who had defected from Asen.

According to Nasir, enough people gathered to form a new brigade. They were armed with modern weapons and were currently training at Hassan’s facilities.

Hassan’s treasury was abundant enough to provide ample for feeding and clothing the increased soldiers. In this waning climate of conflict, wealth flowed back as shamans who had gone to Sanya returned. Hassan was experiencing unprecedented prosperity.

“…”

I smirked at Klevins. After clocking out, he ordered the driver to take him toward the official residence, saying,

“Your skill in dealing with the warlords matches your life on the Mauritania continent well. How about it? Moving over to domestic affairs?”

“Are you suggesting I work domestically?”

“There happens to be a spot open in counter-terrorism. There’s a shortage of personnel, be it at the headquarters or in the field.”

Well, counter-terrorism is usually a niche field, so that makes sense.

I nodded in agreement.

“Counter-terrorism would be a department I could handle while still serving as a companion to the hero. Terrorism knows no borders. The region we are heading to faces the same issues.”

“That’s true.”

“I think you’ll do well even in that capacity. Don’t you think? Considering the state of affairs with the empire.”

Klevins was well aware of the troubling incidents erupting in the Kien Empire, which had been holding onto the Mauritania Continent tightly.

However, he did not delve into the details.

The state of the emperor was a piece of information known only to a select few within the Abas government.

Of course, I knew it too.

“It’s as plain as day that the unruly armed factions are bound to wreak havoc. The Ministry of Defense is keeping a close watch on the movements of foreign terrorist groups.”

“Are you planning to send me out?”

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be the field. If you’re willing, we could arrange a position at the headquarters. I have an office next to mine that’s vacant.”

Klevins half-jokingly offered the position. It sounded like a half-hearted offer, as if he was simply tossing out the idea.

As I stepped out of the car, I glanced back at him before closing the door, replying,

“No thanks, I’m not interested in counter-terrorism.”

I’m not buying, I’m not buying.

“It’s Stream speaking.”

“Oh my, you are the famous Major! I’ve heard a lot about you from my husband.”

“I see. But when you say husband…?”

“Oh dear. My apologies for bringing up a stranger all of a sudden. You see, my husband works in the Ministry of Defense.”

“Ah, the Ministry of Defense… So, is your husband by any chance…?”

“He’s the Army Chief of Staff.”

She was the Chief’s wife.

Suddenly, the family of my superior (a four-star General) showed up. I hurriedly bowed and greeted the lady. It felt like the difference between a horse dung and four stars.

Even though I was a soldier and she was a civilian, the military ranks had this strange power that affected even civilians. That’s why I respectfully greeted the wife of the Chief of Staff.

In fact, by common sense, she was more than deserving of such VIP treatment.

After all, she wasn’t just any aristocrat. Moreover, being the wife of the Chief of Staff made her almost like a superior in status.

Of course, applying the term ‘superior’ to a civilian might not be appropriate, but no one would raise an issue about that. In a society where ranks are like thugs, the family of a senior officer is practically treated as a superior. That’s why children living in military apartments often act like neighborhood bosses based on their parents’ ranks.

Due to these trivial and awkward issues, many lower-ranking officers struggle every year to escape from military housing, but sadly, the real estate prices in this area far surpass even the notorious prices in Seoul.

So what can we do? If you want out, you need to earn money. Or get permission to live outside the base.

However, alas.

I was in the unfortunate position of having money but not being allowed to live off-base.

The company stuffed me into an official residence because they feared foreign spies eavesdropping if I rented a place outside.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Colonel Frederick Nostrim, serving as the Defense Attaché.”

Why are there so many official residences crammed together? The compound housed high-ranking officials from various government sectors, including the Army Chief of Staff, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Prime Minister’s Security Secretary, and the Minister of Defense.

Thanks to that, I had to welcome late-night visitors (the Chief and his wife) while sweating profusely.

“Oh, you’re the friend I heard was coming in. Nice to finally see your face.”

The Chief of Staff, whose face I had only seen in newspapers and news from the Ministry of Defense, greeted me. Clad in a checkered winter sweater, he was accompanied by his family.

Next to him, the secretary from the Prime Minister’s office chatted with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who had brought along an expensive wine as a housewarming gift, while the wife of the Minister of Defense was laughing and talking with the Chief of Staff’s family.

In this almost dizzying atmosphere, I received greetings and well-wishes from both the Minister of Defense (a former four-star General) and the Chief of Staff (the current four-star General).

“You’ve been working hard late into the night.”

“Yes. Thank you, Minister.”

“You really don’t have to be so tense. Just relax.”

While the Minister of Defense said, “Don’t feel burdened,” the advisor accompanying him stared at me like a hawk.

Right next to the Minister, casually occupying the place of honor with a warm smile, the Chief of Staff paused mid-sip to chuckle.

“Don’t be so nervous, I’m saying. Haha.”

“… Ah, yes.”

“Though it’s late, I’m glad to finally see your face. I heard you were coming two months ago, but I’ve been wondering where you were all this time.”

In response to the Army Chief’s question, I briefly assessed the room’s atmosphere before quietly responding.

“I was busy with work.”

“Ah… I see.”

I made an excuse about work, but he fully understood the implications of my words. It was something he could confirm by his authority as the Chief of Staff that I was affiliated with the intelligence division.

However, it seemed he had no idea why I had been absent. Thankfully, he didn’t pry any further.

Those who gathered at the official residence for the housewarming party with a view to meeting the new neighbors stayed for about two hours before returning to their respective homes. During that short yet sufficiently long time, I interacted with two Ministers, the Prime Minister’s secretary, a four-star General, and their families.

I couldn’t say how much information was exchanged during that time. The atmosphere was rather pleasant, and the gifts and meals I received were excellent, yet inside, I felt like a shipwrecked vessel.

“Ugh…”

After hastily cleaning up and collapsing onto the sofa, I could see two people peering out from the far corner of the room.

“… Are they gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Phew, I was scared stiff.”

It was Jerry and Adela.

The two officials, like stowaways hiding on a smuggler’s ship, carefully emerged from their hiding spot. They quickly skedaddled to the living room, likely having realized the attention was on me.

“Was there some kind of diplomatic security meeting going on today? The Minister of Defense, the Chief of Staff, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the Prime Minister’s secretary all coming over is a bit much…”

“It’s a housewarming.”

“A rather rowdy housewarming.”

Adela finally breathed a sigh of relief as she came into the living room. She kicked my behind with her dirty foot, ordering me to make room.

Curling up on the sofa, I bemoaned her orders.

“Get that foot away.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t you feel sorry for the sofa? If you sit on it with that heavy weight, it’ll sink.”

“Do you want to die?”

“Stop fighting.”

Jerry, acting as the mediator of the Nostrim siblings, softly stepped in, but the orc-like eldest sister shrugged him off effortlessly.

With brute strength, the orc pushed me aside, crushing the poor sofa beneath her ample behind.

“Whoa, the sofa’s tilting!”

“Fred, you little…!”

“Hey, hey! Adela!”

As Adela charged at me, ready for a battle, Jerry, sweating profusely, intervened.

“Stop already, alright!”

“Just five kilograms gained, and you’re overreacting. Isn’t that odd, bro?”

“Isn’t obesity a relative value? Do you know how distressed Adela is—ugh!”

“Jerry, you too, hush!”

“Enough! I’m hurting, Adela!”

“Just die!”

They say a tiger dies from its skin and a human from its tongue.

With one slip of the tongue, the poor Treasury Department official found himself on the receiving end of Adela’s wrath.

Thanks to Jerry’s tear-jerking sacrifice, I escaped the clutches of the chaos. As I fetched ice cream from the fridge, I opened my mouth. To be precise, I took a big scoop with a spoon and stuffed it into my mouth, muttering away.

“Where are Dad and Mom?”

“They’re at the townhouse. They’ll be over soon.”

Jerry, who had been battered, replied in a calm voice, before getting smacked by Adela again.

I tilted my head while fiddling with the spoon. They were coming over to the residence now?

“No, just staying over there. Why would they come at this late hour…?”

“Well, since their son got a new house, they should come see it.”

“They know I’m busy. Why come over now?”

I surveyed the residence. The living quarters provided by the Ministry of Defense for the generals had now become my abode.

Certainly, it was slightly better than an ordinary official residence. All the glass had been replaced with bulletproof ones, and special paints were applied to the outside walls to block eavesdropping and tapping. Even the locks on the front and back doors were more than five.

At this point, the so-called official residence was practically a bunker. I heard that the cost for renovating it ran into the hundreds of millions, and I couldn’t help but think someone was embezzling along the line, but seeing the results firsthand, I understood the costs.

However, the eyes of the Treasury Department saw things differently. Jerry, licking his wounds, spoke up, clicking his tongue.

“I heard they spent an incredible amount on renovations here. What did they change, anyway?”

“With bulletproof glass and counter-eavesdropping measures, it makes sense that it costs that much.”

I tapped on the glass in the living room.

“Putting aside other things, the material to block the magic frequencies from eavesdropping equipment is extremely expensive. There are few producers, and you’ve got to hire a magician skilled in working with those specially processed materials. If they had only bought encrypted materials for the communication devices, it would have been cheaper, but since they coated the entire building, they racked up heaps of expenses.”

“Is that even normal? It looks like a waste to me.”

“You just don’t get it.”

Every operation conducted by the intelligence agency requires funding. From paying salaries to staff to running intelligence networks and maintaining equipment, it all comes down to budgets.

On top of that, if it’s an overseas operation, various unit expenses come into play, making it commonplace for the intelligence agencies to burn through hundreds of millions.

“It costs at least 100,000 shillings to monitor one person overseas. Just to watch someone, you’re talking about 100,000 shillings spent. Now, think about how much budget would be needed to monitor a facility secured like an embassy?”

“You’re saying you spend that much budget just to monitor someone?”

“Yeah. It’s a combination of accommodation, food, and miscellaneous expenses, but at the very least, that’s the cost to track a civilian traveling abroad.”

As a reference, 100,000 shillings is roughly equivalent to about 20 million won. I had done the calculations while monitoring the reds in Eastern Europe, and it came out about that much.

Shocked by the reality of how the intelligence agency consumed funds like a sieve, Jerry couldn’t help but shake his head. Adela, watching the scene, sulked as she stole a portion of my ice cream.

“Must have spent 100,000 shillings to slack off. When I was working at the embassy, I saw the chief of the Royal Intelligence Department playing tennis every morning. He’d splurge on a yearly membership with their budget and have a grand old time.”

“Diplomats go off to play golf, you know. Not everywhere is like…”

“Shut it!”

I snatched the spoon from Adela and added, “Come on, let’s not be stingy just because some money was spent. We’re all civil servants here, right?”

“You need to be mindful of the budget. That money could’ve helped social welfare significantly, you know?”

“It’s not like it’s a building that will be thrown away after one use. When I leave a room, someone else will surely use it. By the way, where’s Ayla? What’s she up to?”

“On a business trip.”

“Where to?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t told us.”

Jerry stretched out his groggy body as he answered. Adela picked up from where he left off.

“According to her exit records, it appears she hasn’t left the country yet. But lately, she’s been hard to get in touch with.”

“She’s always been one to not reach out.”

I suppose she can handle it on her own. Ayla’s a working girl now.

I opened a bottle of the wine we received as a gift. As the delightful aroma wafted up, I filled a glass and spoke.

“I think I’ll be going on a business trip soon.”

“Already? How long has it been since you came home, and you’re going on another trip?”

“Do I want to go? It’s the company sending me, that’s why.”

“Where to this time?”

“Mauritania.”

Adela, who had been eating ice cream, widened her eyes in surprise.

“Mauritania? Isn’t that an incredibly dangerous continent?”

“It’s not that dangerous. It’s safer than you think.”

“Didn’t you say the same thing when you went to the North? And how did that turn out? It was all about demons and whatnot, a whole fuss.”

“Is it the same now as it was then?”

“Who knows? There might be demons there too.”

“Stop with the negativity and get ready. Didn’t you say Mom and Dad were on their way?”

Just as we were gearing up for the real housewarming, the phone rang.

It wasn’t a personal mobile phone. It was the landline set up in the residence.

Jerry, nearby, wiped his hands on his pants and picked up the receiver. After a quick chat with the caller, he covered the receiver with his palm and called out to me.

“Fred! Someone’s looking for you.”

“Who is it?”

“I’m not sure. They said it’s a matter of national defense… Isn’t this from your company?”

“Hand it over.”

I took the receiver from him.

“Yes, this is Colonel Frederick Nostrim on the line.”

— ‘Manager! It’s me.’

“Jake?”

It was Jake.

Despite the late hour, he had called me. Given he must have heard I was back, I figured it was a courtesy call.

But his voice sounded unusual.

“Where are you?”

— ‘I’m at the office right now.’

“At the office? At this hour?”

— ‘Yes.’

“What’s going on?”

— ‘Ah, um…’

Jake, who had been fidgeting, started explaining in a nervous tone.

— ‘I just received a call from Patalia. They said they have urgent news for you, Manager.’

“Is it a secure line? Go on.”

— ‘You know the informant you were managing? The one from the Magic Tower.’

“Yeah.”

— ‘He was found dead in Patalia.'”

 

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