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proporcionado.

“The cult that proposed cooperation with Al-Yabd has sent reinforcements.”

Inquisition officers, exorcists, and scholars from the archives managing and studying ancient texts, along with a battalion of the Order of the Holy Knights.

I questioned whether it was necessary to deploy such a large force just to take down a single vampire, but given that Al-Yabd appeared to have mobilized a similar scale of manpower, it seemed they had their reasons.

If the two religious organizations, which looked at each other like they were cattle, pigs, and chickens, had joined forces, there must be a significant reason behind it. I didn’t know, but the religious folks likely had some kind of reason in mind.

Just as information warfare is the specialty of Information Agency Agents, isn’t dealing with undeads and demons the domain of religious individuals? Perhaps the Inquisition and the Commission of Condemnation could resolve the vampire issue.

Alright. I’ll leave the matter to them for now. First, I’ll take care of Camila, Lucia, and Francesca, and visit the scene occasionally to gather information.

Specialization and division of labor. It was indeed a flawless plan.

So the plan was perfect.

Only the plan.

—

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

“Little sister~”

If there was anyone who could refer to the only two saints of the cult in such an informal manner, they would have to be a high-ranking clergy or a close personal friend.

In that sense, there was only one person who could address Saint Lucia as ‘our sister.’

“Sister…?”

“Lucia~!”

Veronica rushed up and hugged Lucia. After finishing her rounds and packing her medical bag, Lucia blinked her rabbit-like eyes repeatedly as she was enveloped in her arms.

“How did you get here?”

“I came to see my little sister! Didn’t you want to see me, sister?”

“Of course I did. It’s nice to see you.”

“Really, really? You’re happy to see your lovely sister?”

Veronica patted Lucia on the head and added playful comments like ‘Oh, you missed me?’ while Lucia started to smile awkwardly, as if she was embarrassed.

It was a long-awaited reunion between the two.

“Um, well…”

To my eyes, which knew the relationship between Veronica and Lucia better than anyone else, this scene didn’t look all that awkward.

Yet, watching Lucia smile awkwardly with a troubled expression, while Veronica tended to her like a baby, gave me a strangely mixed feeling.

It felt as if I were watching an immature aunt make a scene…

“Colonel?”

“…Ah, um. Yes.”

“Why do you look at me with such irreverent eyes? Are you thinking something strange?”

“Strange thoughts…? No, not at all.”

“‘What kind of strange thoughts?’ you ask?”

Her eyes narrowed as she cast a suspicious glance at me. It was a perfectly natural response, or so I thought, but it appeared I couldn’t completely deceive the sense of the saint.

Anyway, you’re just quick to catch on.

I hurriedly shook my head and averted my gaze. Veronica, who had been suspiciously watching me, let out a huff and turned away, acting coy.

“How was life in Mauritania? Was there anything uncomfortable?”

“Not at all, sister. There were volunteers who had been caring for patients for a long time, and the monastery also provided ample support. Of course, we received a lot of assistance from grateful individuals, including the Alliance and the government.”

“Oh~ Our little sister is so capable! It feels like just yesterday you were clinging to me for treats, and now you’ve grown so much.”

“…U-uh, sister…!”

“Aha! You’ve worked hard, Lucia!”

Even as a proper young lady and an adult now, Lucia still looked like a child in Veronica’s eyes, who was gazing at her lovingly.

“Ah, um…”

Blushing with shame, Lucia lowered her head. It seemed to be quite amusing to Veronica. She laughed playfully and waved at Lucia.

“I’m just so happy I caught a busy person! Take care now! See you later!”

Whether she could hear the voice or not, Lucia stammered and couldn’t even see her off.

Waving her hand to say goodbye, Veronica quickly slipped out and closed the door.

Observing that scene, I cast a blunt gaze at the saint. Veronica, who brushed her hair behind her ears, began to smile brightly. It was a very mischievous expression.

“What are you staring at? It’s not like this is the first time.”

“…Aren’t you tired of it? As you said, it’s not like this is just the first time you’ve teased me.”

“Am I tired? No way! Not at all! Every moment is amusing. It feels new every time.”

“…That’s nonsense.”

Well, you definitely seem a little quirky.

Holding my forehead with a tired expression, Veronica couldn’t resist but burst out with laughter.

“Now, let’s put off playing with the little sisters and get some work done.”

*

Fire is humanity’s greatest invention in history.

Scholars estimate that ancient humans began to harness naturally occurring fire, witnessing lightning striking and dry leaves catching flame.

The discovery of fire soon led to inventions. In the Neolithic era, ancestors successful in producing fire artificially with flint actively began to use it: driving away darkness, fending off beasts, cooking food. Cooking was born right there.

This groundbreaking invention brought about the end of an era. Cooking gave rise to ways of roasting, steaming, frying, and boiling, advancing human culinary culture while simultaneously extinguishing the era of eating raw food.

However, even today, in modern society, raw food culture can still be found in various places.

Sometimes under the banner of tradition, sometimes labeled as delicacies, and occasionally called exotic treats.

“…….”

A sorceress from 21st-century England, Camila looked down at the dish with a crumpled expression.

“What is this?”

A local man in military uniform replied in broken Kien.

“Beans. Not cooked. Our staple. High nutritional value.”

Whether speaking the common language of Mauritania or a local dialect, if he had just spoken comfortably, Camila would have understood, but unfortunately, the brain’s internal translator (likely magically enhanced) seemed to be a bit underperforming when it came to interpreting awkward foreign languages.

Yet, the meaning was clear.

“…You want me to eat this?”

Camila pointed out the ‘bean dish’ in her bowl and asked again. It was not even boiled or steamed, so it wouldn’t even qualify as ‘cooked’; it was just ‘beans’ casually washed and served in the bowl.

The local man, smiling brightly, nodded.

“Can eat.”

“GYAAAHH…!”

Being asked to eat raw beans, Camila clutched her hair and screamed.

“Why?! Who eats beans raw?!”

Everyone knows the notorious reputation of English cuisine, but at least English cuisine includes some concept of cooking. Even though they might make jelly out of eels and stuff sardines into pies, even Englishmen wouldn’t eat beans raw.

Baked beans cooked softly in a sweet and tangy sauce, or low-calorie high-protein pea soup garnished with whipped cream and mint leaves are classic examples.

Yet, it isn’t necessary to reference just England. In the rural areas of Africa, where raw food culture persists, beans are mostly eaten boiled or cooked. For Camila, who has traveled through various cultures around the Third World, the suggestion of eating raw beans was shocking.

However, there was a reason behind this.

“Lighting a fire is a risky thing. The smoke billowing high into the sky is noticeable in the vast desert. Whether the light and smoke attract a caravan or a bandit… or a starving monster, no one can know.”

Franchesca appeared beside the frowning Camila. With a bundle carefully wrapped in cloth slung over her shoulder, the alchemist held a bowl of beans, similar to Camila’s.

With a gentle smile, Franchesca offered consolation in not quite a comforting way.

“So, you have no choice. You have to eat it.”

“KYAAA…!”

Sitting down on the sand with a thump, Camila threw her head back and let out a wail. It was the exact same scream as the monster she had just hunted.

In No Man’s Land, 45 km northwest of the refugee camp in the Mauritania Continent, Camila’s scream echoed in the middle of the desert.

*

“There’s a vampire, right?”

“Yes.”

As I stepped into the dim corridor, crackling sounds reached my ears and the lights turned on. It was the result of a motion-detecting sensor detecting a body entering the hallway.

“I heard the Order of the Holy Knights discovered it. They raided a cult’s hideout in the process of recovering Lucia’s blood, and there they found a coffin. You knew that, right?”

“I was on-site.”

“I figured you’d be like that, Colonel.”

Veronica stepped into the room located at the end of the hallway. It was a makeshift office prepared for the saint.

While I placed the eavesdropping equipment on the table, Veronica casually tossed her coat onto a hanger and flopped down onto the sofa.

“This is a headache. Of all things, a vampire…”

Veronica grumbled, as though it were a bother. The office was filled with familiar-looking items that the monks must have prepared in advance.

Unlocking the cabinet, she pulled out a dark brown stick. It was a Maduro cigar.

“A vampire. A vampire…”

“What does the Holy See have to say?”

“The old fogies think the same thing as always. An order just came down to eradicate it by any means necessary.”

The order was issued to the Inquisition and the Ministry of War, along with the Information Agency and the Ministry of Defense. The one holding command was Raphael, the owner of the Mediuse Cathedral – that is, the Pope.

As Veronica popped the cap off with a cutter and drew in on the cigar with a lighter, I pulled one from her cigar box.

The red-tinted lips released from the cigar, eyebrows raised slightly.

“Colonel, why are you taking my cigar?”

“Is it a shame?”

“Of course it is!”

“I ought to have permission first. What are you thinking, taking it without consent?”

“Only say that when we’re alone. You never say anything when it’s just the two of us.”

“…Ahem, anyway!”

I lit the cigar borrowed from her special matches and savored the taste and aroma. Once the fire caught evenly, I exhaled some smoke and posed my question to Veronica.

“The Pope and the bishops want the vampire eliminated. Okay, sounds good. Do you know how to kill a vampire?”

“No.”

Tsk. Veronica clicked her tongue sharply, sinking her body into the soft leather.

“The last time a vampire was hunted down was hundreds of years ago. There are records and documents stored in the archives, but there’s no one in the church who is well-versed in vampires. It’s already been over 200 years since that happened.”

Unlike necromancers and demons—who maintain a constant presence, causing minor and significant issues—the undead, once hunted down, are completely eradicated.

Veronica elaborated:

“For millennia, religious organizations have been trying to eradicate the undead. They’ve worked on identifying and blocking the origins while developing methods of extermination. As a result, some undead have vanished into folklore or history, like krakens, unicorns, yetis, kikimoras, dopplegangers, or alraunes…”

I stopped and spat out the cigar that I had brought close to my mouth.

“Werewolves are sometimes seen. Just a few days ago, some people from the Ministry of Magic caught one in the West of Abas.”

“Well, it’s quite impossible to kill them all. Just like how no matter how hard the medical profession tries, diseases don’t just vanish.”

Veronica shrugged her shoulders and set the cigar down in the ashtray while running her fingers through her hair.

“Over the course of thousands of years, the church has made efforts to reduce and eradicate the number of the undead. When priests from the diocese received reports of harm from residents, they would dispatch Inquisition officers and exorcists. If the scale of damage was significant or the dispatched clergy went missing, the Order of the Holy Knights, under instructions from the Pope, would set out on a campaign. The vampire is one such example.”

I was aware of this part.

“Perhaps the vampire is the species that has received the most extermination orders in church history. Once they begin to operate, dozens, even thousands to tens of thousands of people may be harmed. In ancient times, the Holy See was unable to respond proactively due to limited resources, and when reports of vampire damage came in, they would respond in hindsight; however, as the damage accumulated, they had no choice but to take preemptive action.”

That preemptive action means a large-scale search by the Inquisition.

The saint summarized the church’s war against vampires throughout history like this:

“The basis of religion is faith. It starts from the expectation that believing in God will yield rewards. The promise of blessings in life and peace after death.”

In simpler terms, it’s motivation. The belief that my efforts will lead to results, and rewards will follow.

To express it more elegantly could be called ‘expectancy theory.’

“In that sense, the undead directly undermines the church’s teachings. If the consequence of forsaking faith and breaking God’s rules is not divine retribution but instead an immortal body, what would prompt anyone to foolishly attend church and contribute?”

“Still, there’s a risk involved. Isn’t it only logical that gains come with losses?”

“Desperate individuals likely don’t have the luxury to ponder such thoughts. Just like the werewolf that remains because someone benefits from it, if you think so as a Colonel…”

“Isn’t it because you chose to become a werewolf?”

“That seems about right.”

“Vampires are the same. Eternal youth, an immortal body. While they can’t stroll under the sun, they dominate the night with incredible power, existing for eternity. For those dreaming of immortality, it must be an enticing option.”

Veronica mentioned that many kings, nobles, and wealthy individuals voluntarily chose to become vampires. They were dreamers who couldn’t suppress their desire for eternal power and wanted to build their own kingdoms. Count Erzebet, whom Ibrahim referred to, was one of those countless dreamers.

But every choice comes with a price, a fate that even dreamers cannot escape.

“The Church wouldn’t just stand by and watch. If turning against faith and opposing God leads to immortality and power, then the very value of religion would vanish.”

God did not punish those dreamers who abandoned their humanity.

If divine retribution did not come, someone had to take it upon themselves to judge them on God’s behalf.

Thus, humans decided to hold them accountable and pass judgment.

“Isn’t it funny?”

Holding a lit cigar with a ghostly smoke curling up, the saint smiled while crossing her legs.

“An ordinary human, not an angel, punishing sins on behalf of God. I sometimes wonder what the Popes think about all this.”

The gatekeeper of heaven cast out dreamers to hell instead of opening the gates of paradise for them. Once the Pope’s orders were given, the Inquisition and the Order of the Holy Knights moved into action, and Al-Yadbe and Nirvana also began to eliminate vampires according to their own protocols.

Since the last vampire was beheaded 400 years ago, the name ‘vampire’ had been erased from the world.

It seemed to vanish.

“……”

As the vibrant, luscious lips parted, gray smoke dispersed into the air.

“…The scholars are analyzing the ancient texts in the archive, so a plan to eliminate vampires will be devised soon. Once everything is ready, we can quietly handle it before any damage occurs.”

The saint added with a playful tone while smiling brightly.

“After that, I can just go out and play with Colonel and the others! Right?”

Tap. Tap-tap.

The sound of her nails drumming on the armrest began. Amidst the flowing silence, the saint flashed a strange smile.

As I silently gazed at Veronica, I ceased my finger-pointing.

“The Church, which had fought against the vampires, couldn’t possibly not know how to kill them. I can’t imagine you, who shot and sent demons back to hell, wouldn’t be able to kill a vampire.”

“……”

“What in the world did Raphael send you here for?”

“Who knows~?”

Veronica tilted her head with a mischievous smile.

It felt like a harmless tease, or maybe the dull banter of a bad joke. But the smile plastered on her face was strikingly vivid.

With a playful grin, Veronica spread her arms wide. If this were a variety show, some flashy sound effects would’ve surely accompanied her pose.

“Se~cret!”

“……”

“Take a guess! Maybe I’ll give you a prize—no, wait! Why bring out violence all of a sudden!?”

“Come here. Gimme a head rub.”

I waggled my fingers in preparation for a playful smack.

In the end, Veronica just walked away without getting back what she lost.

*

As grains began to swirl and scatter in a gust, a massive whirlwind started to whip up.

“Urgh…!”

The prickly sandstorm not only clawed at the window but also came crashing against skin. The coarse grains stung so much that even with my eyes closed, tears could hardly be contained.

Camila, feeling the harsh breath of the desert all over her body, struggled to slam the car door shut that she had left ajar.

“Wow… it’s seriously hot. The sun’s blazing, and now the wind’s turning up…”

Just then, a breeze blew from inside the vehicle. The sand that had clung to her glistening skin quickly returned to its natural pale hue, as the granules danced in a whirl along the ceiling.

The moment the sandstorm escaped through the gaps in the window, Francesca, having rolled the glass up, inquired in a friendly tone.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Wow! Thank you, Francesca!”

“Don’t mention it.”

The two exchanged a spirited high-five. Of course, since Francesca was unfamiliar with the gesture, it wound up being all Camila’s doing.

Having wrapped up the monster extermination operation in No Man’s Land, Camila approached the air conditioning unit, savoring the refreshing breeze.

“I think I’m going to die. Coming to Mauritania feels like I’m about to melt.”

“Weren’t you just fine in the Kien Empire? I don’t recall you ever complaining about the cold.”

“Yeah… it’s strange, but I can’t feel the cold, yet heat really gets me.”

Francesca tilted her head as if pondering if it was just her constitution; however, Camila had a different thought.

As far as she knew, she wasn’t one to be bothered by heat at all. She remembered her time wandering through Africa and the Middle East, not having a particularly tough time because of the climate.

Even while serving in Doctors Without Borders, she had managed just fine. So why was she suddenly feeling all hot? She brushed the thought aside, suspecting it was just because she’d stayed too long in the sunny spot. After all, she was enjoying the air conditioning now.

Having cooled off, Camila turned to Francesca with a question.

“It’s been a while since the No Man’s Land operation, right? Was it manageable?”

“Yes. No problems at all.”

Originally, the two of them were responsible for clearing out monsters in No Man’s Land.

Camila’s role, boasting powerful firepower, was simply the ground force.

Whenever the Peacekeeping Forces or the Government Army pinpointed a location with monster activity, she swiftly advanced with them to wipe everything out. She was akin to a frontline soldier tackling inhospitable areas like caves, rugged terrains, and valleys.

In contrast, Francesca’s role was more akin to an air force.

She could fight, but in areas too vast for ground troops, such as open plains or the middle of the desert, Francesca had full jurisdiction.

-Whooosh…

From a tiny dot soaring in the sky, white smoke began to unfurl. It was something like smoke or maybe a mist—no, it was fine powder.

As the powder sprinkled down onto the ground, the serene desert started to undergo a transformation. The once smooth surface of the quicksand began bubbling like boiling water, and monsters surfaced from below.

-Kieeeh…!

-Shaaaaaaat…!

The monsters rolled around atop the desert, screaming in pain. As they turned, their hides and flesh clung to the ground, and amidst the jostling, muscle and gore scattered into the sand.

Perched on top of the carpet, the shaman glanced down at the ground and, adjusting her flight path and valve, wove through the monsters’ heads.

The monsters, covered in powder, growled eerily as they bared their teeth at the shaman, yet she simply soared away unbothered, leaving the desert behind.

Camila, driving along, watched this scene in sheer fascination. It was astounding to think monsters could be dispatched so effortlessly, and it made her appreciate Francesca, the developer of that substance, even more.

“Is that the powder you invented?”

“Yes.”

Francesca nodded with a composed look in her eyes.

“When I saw the swarm of spiders coming from the north, I thought I should develop something. Since No Man’s Land, where monsters primarily dwell, has never been touched by humans, even if an army were to engage, predicting victory would be tough. I didn’t expect I would be using it like this again.”

Francesca observed the scene of her powder killing monsters, her expression void of sorrow or reason to feel regret.

What weighed on her mind was how many budgets the local government had dedicated to officially introducing such powder.

“……”

The local government, having deployed test models far from the border to fight in the desert battleground, quickly grasped how much more effective the powder was than expected.

The Ministry of Defense, having conducted repeated tests, expressed its intention to formally adopt the weapon, and after meetings, a contract was made.

As the product was entirely developed by Francesca, all profits would go to her. The news of it being adopted as a regular military weapon reached diplomats. Reports from resident officers connected to the Ministry of Defense and information officers dispatched from the information agency drew considerable interest back home, and several countries expressed a desire to enter into trade agreements. Even her homeland, the Republic of Patalia, showed interest.

Now, Francesca was no longer merely an alchemist or a civil servant but a businesswoman securing contracts with foreign governments. Naturally, her skills had been recognized in the magical community for long, so those familiar with the Raniere family came to terms with it without any hesitation.

However, the one gathering all the attention belonged to Francesca, who was indifferent to these matters.

What use were wealth and fame? What she truly desired was something a little more intangible and substantial.

Yet,

-‘Director Raniere.’

“…Yes?”

-‘There’s a message. From the Republic of Patalia, that is.’

As the communicator rang through, Francesca looked at the stone wearily.

“Is it from the government?”

-‘Not exactly. It’s from your family.’

“…….”

-‘Um… I realize this might not fall under my purview, but perhaps you should take the call—’

Her tightly sealed lips parted, issuing a cold voice that left the representative from the Magic Tower delegation abruptly speechless.

Francesca, the head of the Magic Tower delegation, spoke.

“I clearly mentioned I had confirmed the documents sent by the Oracle and the Secretariat. If it’s not something that important, why should I have to care?”

-‘…I understand. I will handle it from my end.’

Pardon my intrusion.

With the last phrase echoing, the communication was terminated. As Francesca collected her faded stone and rested her chin on her hand while staring out the window, Camila, who had been gazing into the desert, interrupted.

“It’s just like the Vietnam War.”

“…What’s Vietnam?”

“Ah…!”

Camila looked at Francesca with a panicked expression.

How should she explain? The war between North Vietnam and the United States? Should she explain why the war broke out first or explain what North Vietnam was? To describe North Vietnam, she would need to delve into communism, World War II, and France’s colonial rule.

As she struggled to change the subject, a question darted through Camila’s mind, a perfect opportunity to redirect the conversation.

“Uh, wait! Speaking of which, Francesca.”

“Yes?”

“I hadn’t seen you for several days. Where have you been? I got pretty bored while Frederick was away and you vanished too.”

“……”

This time, it was Francesca who looked flustered.

Receiving a question she hadn’t at all anticipated, the alchemist melted into a bemused smile and began to ponder.

“Hmm…”

Where should she begin her explanation? The background of the birth of the Necropolis? How the saint’s blood was stolen? Whichever topic she chose would undoubtedly lead to quite an awkward answer.

If word got out that she had infiltrated the Necropolis, drawn in the Holy Knights to attack cultists, and discovered a coffin there, many people would find themselves in a difficult position. Even if it wasn’t that, revealing that a magician from the Magic Tower had infiltrated a port where a dead whale lay would certainly flip the outcasts upside down.

As both of them tossed the ball back and forth to evade the awkwardness, a loud ringtone and vibration interrupted from her pocket.

“Ah! Just a moment! I have to take this call.”

“Go ahead, don’t mind me.”

“Then let me take a moment….”

Phew. Letting out a sigh of relief, Francesca turned her gaze away from the window. Camila sought permission and quietly pulled out her mobile phone, pressing the call button.

“Yes, this is Camila.”

Though she couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, it didn’t matter. Ignoring her, Francesca rested her chin on her hand, simply engaging in the passing scenery of the desert.

Camila nodded and kept answering, “Yes, yes.” Whoever it was, it seemed it was important.

“What? A place to go? Well, if we just coordinate schedules, there shouldn’t be a problem….”

As she got caught up in the gentle phone conversation and the mundane scenery, one word that slipped from Camila’s mouth snapped Francesca back to her senses.

“…Necropolis? Where the heck is that?”

 

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