---

If you were to name the armed group representing the Cult, there are certain organizations that must be mentioned.

The Inquisition.

The Grand Exorcism Society.

And the Order of the Holy Knights.

One common misconception people have is that these groups are the “military” defending the Cult.

Inquisition Officers and Exorcist Priests are not soldiers. This has been confirmed by international law, as well as the official stance of the Cult. The same goes for the Holy Knights.

The Holy See has never officially recognized the Order of the Holy Knights as an army.

The Order of the Holy Knights was established as a law enforcement organization for domestic security, and their foreign activities are strictly limited to counter-terrorism.

In other words, the foreign operations of the Order of the Holy Knights essentially mean a war against terrorism—similar to how the FBI’s counter-terrorism units are deployed to Afghanistan.

Thus, under international law, the status of the Order of the Holy Knights is that of a ‘quasi-military organization,’ akin to that of a police tactical unit or a counter-terrorism force.

So, the question arises: Where is the military of the Cult?

—

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

In the basement of the stinking abode.

While the hazy light of a magical projector was seeping through the dusk that bordered day and night.

The limp man started to speak.

“The Order of the Crusaders… is essentially the military of the Cult. If the Holy Knights are like combat police, then the Crusaders are the real deal.”

The sound of a staff echoed through the basement as the senior analyst from the Royal Intelligence Department continued.

“If you’ve taken military history in the academy, you’d know exactly what kind of group these folks are.”

“The elite unit that racked up the most achievements during the Magic Tower Independence War.”

If the Order of the Holy Knights has the characteristics of a domestic security force, then the Order of the Crusaders is a pure military organization. They are the units that go to the front lines when war is declared. The name says it all, doesn’t it? ‘Crusader’ Order.

I recited what I had learned in military history class.

“During the war against the Magic Tower, when the Combat Magicians’ might started to overwhelm the Holy Knights, the Holy See declared war. The Pope of that time classified the Magic Tower as a pagan group. This provided the legal basis under church law to declare a crusade.”

“Well learned. Let me add a bit more context.”

Larry provided some additional explanation.

At the beginning of the war when the Tower was preparing for independence, upon hearing news of the magician’s rebellion, the Holy See issued suppression orders.

At that time, the Holy See denied the existence of magicians, and thus classified the magician’s rebellion as a public uprising.

The Order of the Holy Knights sent to the battlefield to quell the rebellion drove the Magic Tower into a corner. The Inquisition has always been an expert group in high-level magical warfare, and the Order of the Holy Knights was the Holy See’s top counter-terrorism unit, so the magicians had no chance of resistance.

However, as the war entered its middle stages, the situation began to change.

The magicians, who had endured many hardships, started to push back against the Order of the Holy Knights. Years of war had provided enough time for a ragtag group to transform into elite guerrillas.

As the Inquisition and the Order of the Holy Knights started to falter in the face of the magicians, the Holy See, feeling the pressure, declared war. The previously denied existence of magicians was labeled as heresy, and the quelling of the public uprising was quickly escalated into a crusade.

The forces deployed to the battlefield at that time were none other than the Crusaders.

The military of the Cult that once embarked on expeditions across the sea to kill heretics.

“The Crusaders have existed for thousands of years. They are also an elite force that has participated in 13 expeditions to the Mauritania Continent and the Eastern Continent since the first Continental Integration War.”

With heavy steps, Larry made his way toward the screen with his staff.

“Now that religious wars have become a thing of the past, they have officially ceased their activities, but the Crusaders still endure. You could say that the changes in times have suppressed the madness of warmongers.”

“……”

“But though the madness has faded, the Order of the Holy Knights still remains, and they continue to operate unofficially. They’ve just hidden away from the battlefield.”

As a button was pressed, the screen shifted. A myriad of photos appeared on the transparent display.

Larry pointed his staff at a shadow glowing with a blue tint.

“Leading the charge is none other than Unit 92541.”

Unit 92541. Its official name is the Utrant Knights.

The senior analyst from the Royal Intelligence Department referred to them as such.

Special Operations Unit.

“Unit 92541, the Utrant Knights. While the Cult has only two expressions to refer to these fellows, we’re calling them the Special Operations Unit for convenience, since the nature of the unit is identical to that of a Special Forces unit.”

I observed the photos projected on the screen. They were images documenting the operations of Unit 92541, collected by the Abas intelligence authorities over the past several decades.

The first thought that struck me upon seeing the images was how much trouble they must have stirred up.

The backgrounds of the materials were filled with deserts, jungles, and exotic urban settings. Even upon a closer look, it was clear these were not taken in Lateran.

Within them were fully armed soldiers.

“They’re a specialized unit for overseas special operations. Their main tasks involve assassinating cultists operating abroad and securing artifacts and mysteries. Of course, any operations that could be made public are absolutely out of the question; most of their missions are unofficial.”

“Covert operations?”

“Exactly. In fact, the Utrant Knights frequently collaborate with the Inquisition. Well, it’s no different than how Abas’s special units work with intelligence agencies.”

The senior analyst explained, and the operations team leader chimed in.

“They’re not directly under the control of the Inquisition. Therefore, we classify 92541 not as special intelligence units, but as special forces.”

“Just calling them special forces wouldn’t do them justice. You’d have to be a religious fanatic to join a place like that!”

As I listened to the conversation between Matt and Larry, I leaned back in my chair.

“So… those religious zealot special forces agents worked alongside my teammates?”

“Yep.”

I turned my head to look at Jake, who had his arms crossed and was hunched over.

“…They were deployed on the same operation with us. The region was Mandahar.”

“What was the operation about?”

“It was the assassination of a cultist terrorist. It was quite a notorious one.”

Jake was an officer who had served in the special forces. He had been selected for overseas deployment with a language specialty.

“Due to the nature of the mission being confidential, we couldn’t deploy local collaborators. So the command recruited someone who could speak the local dialect….”

“You were chosen for that?”

The former special operator nodded.

The Abas Ministry of Defense, having been approached by the Cult for a joint operation, selected operators from the special forces stationed on the Mauritania Continent. Due to the nature of the task, they sought out Jake, who was confident in his language skills to prevent any leaks of information.

Assassinations have to be carried out swiftly, so the main unit that would stage the finale of the operation waited at the base. Instead, a detachment was sent to Mandahar to direct the aerial teleportation and gather local intelligence.

“I acted as part of the detachment. My duty was to gather intelligence on the target by contacting local residents. It was there that I met Ibrahim.”

Jake, infiltrated as part of the detachment, developed a friendship with a soldier from the Utrant Knights. That soldier was Ibrahim.

Jake described Ibrahim as a devout believer. Despite opposition from his family and threats on his life, he resolved to convert for his faith. He praised Ibrahim as being sufficient both as a religious adherent and a soldier.

The problem was,

“So he showed up here?”

That person had appeared in the refugee camp.

I asked why the Cult’s special forces showed up in the refugee camp.

“Larry, has the local government or the Alliance requested the deployment of the Cult’s special forces?”

“No.”

“Then why is someone from Unit 92541 at the refugee camp?”

With a tap, the senior analyst, propping himself up with his staff, let out a low groan while speculating about the situation.

“I may have no way of knowing what conversations the local government and the Holy See have had behind the scenes, but the reasons why Unit 92541 would show up here seem to fall into three main categories.

Firstly, the protection of the Saint. We don’t know what sort of dangerous elements might have drifted into the refugee camp, so they sent a security team.

Secondly, an official deployment. They might have sent someone to eliminate someone who infiltrated the refugee camp. If this hypothesis is true, then the local government would have requested the deployment first.”

“And the last one?”

“An unofficial deployment.”

Larry said.

“They’ve sent forces to assassinate someone. No government would tolerate foreign assassination units running rampant on their soil, meaning it’s unlikely to be a pre-agreed military operation. It’s bound to be illegal operations—much like how we’re here right now.”

That was a plausible hypothesis.

Receiving an urgent report from Matt, the Royal Intelligence Department sent an information officer to Jake’s lodging.

This was because Jake mentioned he had materials related to Ibrahim at his accommodation.

As the Royal Intelligence Department employees searched the lodging, the team leaders gathered in the basement to discuss how to handle the situation.

“Jake. Think calmly. Have you made eye contact with Ibrahim?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think he recognized you?”

“I’m sure he did. He reacted immediately as soon as our eyes met.”

“…….”

Larry argued for the continuation of the operation, suggesting that nothing was certain yet, while Matt insisted that they couldn’t proceed with the risk elements involved.

I contacted the Military Intelligence Agency to check if there were any updates from the Inquisition.

At that moment.

The Royal Intelligence Department made a call.

-“I apologize for contacting you at such a late hour. We received a peculiar call on one of the team members’ phones.”

“What kind of call?”

-“It’s a call from abroad.”

Hearing the words of the Royal Intelligence Department employee, I instinctively knew who had contacted Jake.

I gestured for Matt and Larry to come over, and the Royal Intelligence Department quickly connected the call.

“…Hello?”

Jake sitting in front of the communication equipment opened his mouth.

The response came immediately.

-“It’s me, Jake.”

“Ibrahim?”

-“Yeah.”

With the radio between them, the two soldiers engaged in conversation.

“What’s going on all of a sudden? We just called….”

Jake’s question trailed off, but the other did not reply.

Instead, he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

-“Just come see me for a minute.”

*

Countries on the Mauritania Continent strictly prohibit alcohol consumption.

According to Al-Yabd’s doctrine, alcohol is considered an impure substance that clouds the mind, so governments that accept Al-Yabd as the national religion have made laws against the sale of alcoholic beverages.

However, secular states sold alcohol exclusively to foreigners.

A foreigner-only bar located in a city famous for its tourist attractions.

A soldier from the cult called Jake to that place.

“Hey, Ibrahim.”

A man dressed in civilian clothes leaning against the bar turned his head.

“You made it.”

“You called for me, didn’t you?”

Jake sat down on the long chair beside Ibrahim.

It was a natural joint seat. From my perspective, there was nothing wrong with it.

Yet, Jake’s expression, seated next to his friend, was anything but cheerful. He opened the conversation with a grim face.

“Why did you call?”

“Just because.”

Ibrahim replied, showing a faint smile as the mixed-race priest turned his head toward the other side.

“I saw you passing by.”

“…….”

As a new guest arrived, a waiter holding an order sheet appeared.

“What can I get you?”

“…Beer, please.”

“Same as before.”

Ibrahim said while raising his glass. The waiter, temporarily absent, returned with a cold beer bubbling with carbonation and a clinking wine bottle.

Even while the wine was being poured into the glass, the two did not exchange words. No one spoke until the waiter, having received the tip, completely left.

Finally, just as the waiter’s back vanished from sight, Jake’s lips parted. After taking a sip of beer, he placed his intertwined hands on the bar.

“Why did you want to see me?”

Jake, looking away, asked Ibrahim. The priest stopped rolling his glass and spoke.

“What were you doing there?”

“…….”

It was a question that left no room for escape.

Jake brought the glass to his lips.

“It was for an operation.”

“Hmm. An operation, huh….”

The wine flowed slowly along the rim of the glass. The red liquid left a crimson trail as it swept across.

Jake asked.

“Are you still with the unit?”

Ibrahim nodded.

“I’m still on duty. What about you?”

“I’m working at the embassy.”

Ibrahim tilted his glass and drank the wine. His drinking posture made him look strikingly like Veronica, a fellow drinker, but surprisingly, despite the glass being almost empty, the wine left in it didn’t dwindle much.

He was controlling the amount he drank. To avoid getting drunk.

Such habits often appeared when operatives in intelligence agencies drank alcohol. Speaking recklessly about known information after drinking could ruin one’s career, so people working in intelligence had practiced ways to avoid getting intoxicated.

Of course, it wasn’t only agents who needed to cultivate such habits.

Many civil servants deal with sensitive confidential matters in the public sector. For example, like special forces members who were deployed on missions classified as top secret.

“…….”

Through his drinking habits, I roughly gauged what kind of person Ibrahim was. He was someone who maintained self-discipline.

I had seen such a person in American special forces, like Delta or SEALs. Special operations and quasi-military projects have many commonalities, and special forces are one of the units that frequently deal with top secrets. My friends in the CIA often shared their experiences aided by the Department of Defense’s special units.

“I’ve heard the news.”

Ibrahim turned his head toward Jake and opened the conversation.

“You came to Lateran, right? When the First Progeny’s companion came to meet Saint Lucia.”

The First Progeny. A term that refers to heroes in the cult’s scripture.

Jake nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I’m curious how someone who was kicking down doors in the field ended up in the embassy, but… I won’t ask the reason. Of course, I won’t inquire about your purpose for being here either.”

“…….”

“Instead, I have one favor to ask.”

With a faint smile, Ibrahim turned his gaze toward Jake.

Jake appeared to be in deep thought.

Tap-tap. Fingers drummed on the bar. Silently staring into Ibrahim’s eyes, he cautiously broke the silence.

“Let’s hear it.”

“I’d like you to introduce me to someone. Not too much, not too little; just give me a hint.”

“Who do you want to meet?”

“Your superior.”

Ibrahim turned his gaze.

“Colonel Frederick Nostrim.”

With Ibrahim’s voice traveling over the communication device, everyone’s attention in the vicinity focused on him.

From the technicians to Larry, who smothered the seat with his large rear, and Matt and Bill as well.

“…What will you do?”

Matt, having taken off his headset, asked me. He pointed with his chin outside the van.

“The team members are ready.”

I turned my gaze and observed the nearby buildings. Beyond the second-floor windows, operatives from the operations team, armed with firearms, had finished their preparations to exit the door. They looked poised to storm the bar at a moment’s notice, once given the command.

“…….”

After making eye contact with Matt, I stayed silent for a while.

With my arms crossed, I mutely exchanged gazes with the operations team leader.

And how long had it been?

Finally breaking the silence, I stood up.

“…Let’s do it this way.”

*

Jake opened the operational mobile phone placed on the bar. After briefly lingering nearby, he made the call.

A short while later, a suit-clad man entered the quiet bar.

“…….”

A half-empty glass of beer sat forlornly on the barren bar. The back of a man drinking wine alone was visible.

The suited man strode in through the front door, walking steadily. Passing by tables and cozy chairs, he occupied the seat next to the man who was tilting his glass.

“You asked to see me.”

I leaned against the bar. Then I turned my gaze to Ibrahim.

He glanced at the suddenly appearing suit man from the corner of his eye, his expression quite composed.

“Seems we’re both busy, so let’s cut to the chase.”

“…….”

“What’s the matter?”

Ibrahim raised his glass and took a big gulp of wine. Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, he put it back into his pocket and began to speak.

“I came because I heard a rumor.”

“What kind of rumor?”

“The rumor that if you need help, you can come to you.”

I inquired about the source.

“I’ve never heard that rumor before. Who told you?”

“…….”

Ibrahim crossed his arms deeply and scanned the surroundings. He seemed to be checking if anyone was listening.

The soldier from the cult swiftly glanced around the bar.

“The Inquisition.”

“…….”

He quietly parted his lips to continue.

“I heard from the people there that if it’s related to Saint Lucia, you can seek help from you… in an unofficial manner.”

“What do you mean by related to the saint?”

“Safety issues.”

Safety issues, huh? It must be something very important.

Click! I lit a cigarette. The smell of oil invaded my nostrils, and as I closed the lighter, smoke began to waft.

“Let’s hear it.”

I raised my eyebrows, signaling him to continue.

“It’s too complicated to explain briefly, but it’s an unsafe place, so I’ll summarize.”

Ibrahim, who was still pouting his lips, quietly closed his eyes.

Then, in a deep voice, he opened his mouth.

“There are cultists in the refugee camp trying to assassinate the saint.”

 

---