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“If the intentions of those called Al Kair align with my thoughts, surely a great tribulation will befall the world. Thus, we must stop it.”

“That’s a nice thought, but….”

Saint Veronica tilted her head, trailing off with her words.

“Can you really face the cultists you’ve never even heard of after waking up after 800 years?”

“Of course, it’s impossible alone. But if we combine our efforts, there’s nothing we can’t achieve.”

“Combine our efforts?”

I glanced at Veronica once and looked at the knight.

“Surely, you’re not referring to us, are you?”

I absolutely despised being pulled into dangerous situations, especially if the ‘evil’ the knight mentioned was something akin to the demon I encountered in the northern regions of the Kien Empire.

Personally, I wanted to avoid facing such monsters again.

When I showed visible hesitation to assist, the knight shook his head as if to say there was no need for concern.

“I have no intention of dragging you into this. Stopping the evil from emerging into the world is my business. You can feel free to wait and rest. Of course, I won’t stop you if you wish to take risks and prevent the evil from stirring.”

“Let’s hear your plan first, Colonel. It sounds like you have something in mind.”

“Let’s do that.”

Veronica asked the knight what plan he had. After a brief pause, he began explaining while checking his gauntlets.

“First, we need to find someone who can inform us what has transpired in the world while I was asleep. We need to identify the places where the evil lies through their knowledge.”

I had doubts about whether anyone existed who could assist a knight who had been asleep for 800 years.

Fortunately, the knight appeared to have a collaborator in mind. He spoke of uncovering Al Kair’s plans to root out the evil after meeting this collaborator.

“Hmm…”

Listening to this, Veronica tapped her lips, lost in thought.

“Well, it’s not a bad plan, but do you even have a way to contact this collaborator? After all, you’re stuck here.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The knight meticulously checked his armor, and there was a strange resolve in the way he examined his gauntlets, boots, cuirass, and finally his helmet.

Rising from his seat, he said in a grave voice.

“There’s nowhere that can confine me.”

Episode 17 – The Tree That Drinks Blood

The beautiful wave patterns created by the wind looked like a painting.

Sharp sand dunes.

In the shade below the gently sloping hill, where a crescent-shaped peak loomed behind, the sound sliced through the air.

“You’re too tense in your shoulders. Excessive strength makes muscles heavy and stiff.”

A fist cut through the air. Just barely missing the side of her head, the fist changed direction towards her side.

As she dodged, the punch merely struck the empty air again. But giving up was too soon. She clenched her hand and launched a fierce counterattack.

Consecutive punches flew in.

The relentless assaults grazed her luscious blonde hair, but Lucia effortlessly evaded the attack.

“You’re quick.”

Raising her leg to guard against a low kick, she complimented her opponent. Though the words lacked hidden intentions, Camila held a different viewpoint.

She had indeed been kicked, and it stung as if she had struck a piece of iron. The throbbing pain climbing her shins made Camila unconsciously frown.

“Ugh….”

Though she threw everything she had into her attacks, she hadn’t landed a single hit. Every time she attempted to strike, Lucia naturally defended herself.

That wasn’t all.

Look at her face. Despite the strenuous exchanges, there wasn’t a single bead of sweat on her calm visage.

“Are you alright?”

Lucia, noticing Camila’s slight groan, asked with a worried expression. Shaking her head, Camila quickly responded that she was fine, readjusting her stance.

Taking a breath, she gathered all her strength and jumped forward. Flames flickered over the footprints left in the sand as she threw her punch fiercely.

Lucia raised her arm to parry the hook and sent a straight punch toward her.

The fluid exchange of strikes continued seamlessly.

It was so flawless that one might suspect they had rehearsed beforehand. However, the sharpness of the attack and violent defense bore a striking resemblance to the bloody struggles of gladiators fighting naked in arenas constructed by the Romans.

The sound of slicing through air merged with the intermittent clash of strikes, echoing over the crescent-shaped dunes.

As Camila unleashed a fierce onslaught, Lucia lightly threw her punches to maintain distance.

“Pressuring the opponent with speed is good, but do not get too caught up in the offense. If you neglect defense, you will inevitably create openings for your opponent.”

Like this.

One hand naturally overlapped over the stretched punch. Gracefully stepping through the sand to evade the attack, Lucia caught Camila’s fist and wrist.

Having snatched the punch with one hand, she twisted the opponent’s wrist as if removing a weak child’s arm.

As the wrist turned, the arm began to rotate, and losing balance in her torso was a given. Lucia twisted the held fist hard before tugging it forward.

Just like how stars are drawn into a black hole by gravity, Camila felt her body being pulled toward Lucia. Her body, leaning forward, started to yield without resistance, and its destination was Lucia’s fist.

The punch, looming before her, filled her vision. As she was literally about to fall, Camila rolled her body to the side, ignoring the sensation in her twisted wrist.

Just as Lucia was about to launch her attack in a panic upon witnessing this, Camila’s body was engulfed in flames.

-Whoosh~!

Her burning form swiftly turned into a spark.

The swirling sparks filled her vision. Just as Lucia raised her arms to shield her sight, a heavy sensation suddenly coiled around her waist.

“Haah!”

Emerging from the flames, Camila laughed loudly.

Her freed arm regained its liberty while her legs coiled around Lucia’s waist. She had somehow latched onto Lucia’s waist, locking her in a position that was a little risqué.

However, her expression was nothing but bright.

In the blink of an eye, Camila closed the gap with Lucia, her face glowing with the joy of snagging a counter opportunity at such a critical moment.

Thus, Camila’s face sparkled more brightly than ever at the prospect of victory.

“I won?!”

A rough hand abruptly seized her waist.

Lucia, having caught Camila’s waist, spread her legs wide before bending her waist like a bow, tossing her aside.

Camila, who was about to swing her clenched fist, let out a stunned sound as she clung to Lucia’s shoulder, but it was futile.

“Ugh!”

Her lush hair drew a crescent arc, and the red-tinged sand greeted Camila.

Having hit her head first, she likely lost consciousness and was slumped over.

“I was startled by your sudden attack. Are you alright… huh?”

Startled by the unforeseen attack, just as she planted Camila down, Lucia turned her head to ask about her well-being but froze in place.

“You two are quite loud in your sparring, aren’t you? Who won….”

Francesca, who had been focused on her work a little distance away, paused.

“…….”

The bottom of Camila’s sandy pit twitched.

A moment of suffocating silence ensued.

“…Hero!!”

“Saint!!”

The screams of the priest and magician echoed across the red desert as they rolled down the sandy hill.

*

There was a small incident, but the situation quickly calmed down.

Camila, rescued from the sand pit, regained her consciousness shortly after.

Those who had been anxiously observing the unprecedented crime scene where the saint ‘killed’ the hero finally exhaled a sigh of relief only after seeing her start to eat.

In the midst of the desert, where the guards of the Cleric of the Cult and the Magician of the Magic Tower were stationed.

Slurp! Camila stopped drinking and made a face like she was about to cry.

“I can still feel the chunks….”

“I’m, I’m so sorry.”

Lucia fidgeted as if she didn’t know what to do with her guilt.

Seeing her, Camila waved her hand, assuring her everything was alright.

“Don’t worry about it. Such things happen during sparring.”

“Still….”

“And I was the one who asked for the sparring, right?”

That implied it wasn’t Lucia’s fault.

Camila gently shifted the responsibility onto herself with a soft tone and finished the last of her drink.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine for not preparing adequately. It was quite sudden to ask for a sparring match… but why did you ask me for one?”

“Oh, just…. Thought I might need the practice.”

Camila vaguely trailed off, trying to dodge the question. Admitting she asked for practice after losing so embarrassingly was a little too shameful.

Slurp! The sweet drink flowed up the straw.

Though the sensation of grains was bothersome, the overly sweet taste masked the discomfort.

At that moment, a worried voice pierced her ear. Turning her head, she saw Francesca’s profile.

“Why weren’t you careful? What if you got seriously injured?”

Despite her blunt tone, the underlying intentions were good.

Camila slumped down onto the carpet. Gazing at the soft sand spread across the desert beneath the Arabian-style carpet, it felt as though she had embarked on a journey.

“Oh my. Are you truly concerned for me right now?”

“I’d appreciate it if you considered it advice.”

“I shall take it to heart! By the way, what are you working on?”

Camila suddenly shot the question. Francesca was deeply absorbed in something against the backdrop of the vast red desert.

She was sitting at a metal work table. Though there were no traces of wood, rendering the workspace stark and bleak, a bubbling array of colorful liquids and an assortment of materials with unclear uses exuded a strange mystique.

“It’s alchemy.”

Francesca said while handling tools at the workbench. At that, Camila tilted her head slightly.

“Alchemy? It seems quite different from the alchemy I know.”

When one thinks of alchemy, they imagine tossing ingredients into a cauldron and boiling them vigorously.

That’s how alchemy is typically depicted in films, novels, manga, and dramas. However, this place’s alchemy appeared to have some peculiarities.

“While reagents symbolize alchemy, producing reagents isn’t the only thing encompassed by alchemy.”

Francesca lifted a piece of metal and gazed at Camila.

“The essence of alchemy is transformation and refinement. Ancient alchemists aimed to refine metals into precious ones.”

“Oh, I know about that. The attempts to turn base metals into gold were the most common, right?”

“Yes. Most of those attempts failed.”

Though ancient alchemists’ endeavors to convert iron into gold didn’t succeed, the essence of their pursuits was carried forward to later alchemists.

The essence of alchemy is transformation and refinement. Raising the purity of compounds and transforming them into other substances.

That is recognized as the foundation of modern chemistry while being a core concept that permeates modern alchemy.

“As long as you can extract substances, combine them, and change them into something else, that’s alchemy. Be it liquid or metal, it makes no difference.”

Francesca muttered, mixing metals.

Small gears arranged in a circle around a large gear, long steel needles resembling stakes or large plates that seemed pounded out of steel, and other odd-shaped objects lined the workspace.

The items on the workbench varied dramatically in shape, yet they had the commonality of bearing strange patterns engraved on them.

Intrigued by what she was creating, Camila watched Francesca work for a while, but possessing no knowledge about alchemy, she found herself lacking a means to satiate her curiosity. Not wanting to disturb her concentration, Camila cautiously shifted her position.

“Well then, we’ve rested enough, so shall we resume training?”

Poof~! Flames erupted from her fingertip, shooting upward towards the blue sky. Camila focused her mind, gradually reducing the size of the flames.

The swirling flames began to converge into a single point.

The fire, having revolved and condensed, formed a small sphere, and Camila started her training to maintain the flame. Lucia, who was standing a little distance away, approached her.

“Practicing magic?”

“Ah, yes!”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen such magic.”

Lucia gazed at the tiny flame sphere formed at the tips of her fingers with fascination.

Now that she thought about it, it was something she hadn’t yet shown to her. The only person who had witnessed this was Colonel Frederick.

Seeing Lucia observing her magic intently, Camila smiled shyly and responded.

“It’s magic I learned from the professor, or rather, the duke. Specifically, I created it and asked for corrections.”

“You made magic independently? That’s a considerable achievement. I envy you.”

“Oh no…! There’s no need to flatter me! I’m still lacking.”

The azure flames that she conjured when facing the shaman. She was merely attempting to recreate it again, but failure had been her frequent companion.

Following the duke’s advice that the manifestation of magic drew upon intense emotions as fuel, she was trying to cast her magic in an emotionally heightened state, yet the blue flames never seemed to appear, resembling a cruel lie.

Just as Camila was about to secretly let out a sigh.

Lucia gently shook her head, as if reading my heart’s despair.

“It’s not an empty compliment. Creating something, whether it’s magic, scholarship, or divinity, is truly remarkable.”

Lucia gazed in awe at the newly born, distinct magic. That alone held enough significance.

While it was a look she often wore, Camila felt a peculiar sensation in that gaze.

Having briefly disrupted the swirling flames, she fixed her eyes on Lucia.

“Lucia. Do you have something to say?”

“Yes?”

“No, it’s just that you’ve had a very questioning look since earlier….”

Initially, she tried to evade with embarrassment.

But as the relentless questioning continued, Lucia ultimately raised the white flag.

“…I suppose you’ve noticed.”

With a sigh so quiet it couldn’t be heard by others, she began to share her true feelings.

“Actually, a few days ago, I received a report from the Holy See that an issue had arisen. It was about a major incident at a facility on the Mauritania Continent.”

The moment she mentioned “incident” and “facility,” Camila easily recalled the problem that had occurred a few days prior.

A vampire had turned the facility into chaos, and the cult’s military had entered to search for the missing Veronica. She wasn’t entirely clear on the situation, but she’d caught a glimpse of someone saying, “Report to Saint Lucia.”

That must have been when the report got sent up, right? As her speculation continued, Lucia’s explanation followed.

“A fragmentary report mentioned that something dangerous had escaped from the seal and had wreaked havoc in the facility. There was also a note about several people going missing. But beyond that, I didn’t hear any more details.”

“Does that mean you don’t know anything else?”

Lucia silently nodded.

“I could only access limited information due to my lack of authority. With Saint Veronica, who has full delegation from the Pope, being here….”

“Oh, I see.”

Since the Pope’s appointed delegate was present, Lucia couldn’t receive concrete information due to her lower authority. Of course, that was just a relative standard.

“I can’t grasp what’s happening at all. Moreover, you two seem… to have felt some change in mood.”

Lucia’s gaze swept over Camila and Francesca. When Camila glanced toward Francesca, she saw her focused diligently on the workbench.

“Hmm….”

Having understood the general situation, Camila inquired what was bothering her. Lucia asked them to share what had happened at the scene.

Since they had already received the report stating the two were present, there was no need for further discussion.

“I don’t know the detailed backstory, but… I’ve heard something that was in the coffin attacked people. The Order of the Holy Knights and several others tried their best to prevent the escape, but they had to retreat due to a significant power disparity.”

Camila answered to the best of her knowledge.

However, there was one thing she concealed.

Specifically, she had been asked to do so by Frederick and Veronica. The saint and the colonel were fine with her testifying about the events at the facility, but they requested that she refrain from speaking about the knight. They mentioned they wouldn’t report on it yet either.

For reasons she didn’t know, the knight she encountered that day also appeared suspicious in her eyes. It wasn’t quite a vampire nor a demon.

Generally, matters like this weren’t something to hastily conclude or carelessly discuss.

Coincidentally, Francesca seemed to have a similar thought, so the two agreed to maintain ignorance if questions about the knight arose.

“The coffin, you say?”

“I remember it being a cedar coffin.”

“Was it perhaps a deceased person? If you don’t understand what an undead is, I can explain.”

“Not really? It didn’t look like an undead.”

“Were there any other unusual details?”

“Well… the seals and barriers set up to prevent escape were ineffective, and the ammunition provided by the cult didn’t seem to work either. They said it was blessed ammunition. Oh, and holy water was the same.”

Listening intently to the drawn-out explanation, Lucia stroked her chin with a perplexed expression.

“…That’s strange.”

Although several questions followed, no satisfactory answers emerged.

Lucia continued to touch her chin as she fell deep in thought, while Camila suggested that if she had any more questions, she should let them know, and returned to her practice.

Though they had finally gathered, there was no private conversation. Camila was immersed in creating blue flames, Francesca was busy mixing materials at the workbench, and Lucia was reading the report detailing the incident at the facility.

While she was clustering small embers, a bell began to ring from her pocket. Camila extinguished the flame and took out her mobile phone.

“Yes, Frederick. It’s me. Where are you right now?”

At that moment, a clergyman waiting nearby hurriedly approached Lucia.

“Saint, I greatly apologize for interrupting your rest, but there is something urgent to report.”

“Please speak, Brother.”

“It appears that both Saint Veronica and Colonel Frederick Nostrim have gone missing.”

“Eh…?”

Camila, still on the phone, turned to look at the clergyman with a dazed expression.

*

Everyone has preferences, and everyone has had peculiar experiences.

While one would need to have guts to live by spying, not every information officer lives boldly. We’re human too, so can we always live without fear?

Personally, I dislike water. More accurately, I detest diving. I loathe underwater substances to an extreme degree.

During the training process at the Information Command, I almost died while receiving underwater infiltration training with the navy (if memory serves, it was UDT).

I got stomped on my head as the instructor insisted that I couldn’t possibly not make a 50m deep dive, and I fainted underwater, almost crossing the Jordan River.

Thus, it’s only natural that I shiver at the thought of water.

However, I managed to enjoy parachuting, which most were terrified of during training. Having come from ROTC, I thought I adapted well for someone who hadn’t parachuted before.

Perhaps the Air Force suited me more than the Army? Regardless, the Navy was definitely not for me.

Right. I dislike diving and enjoy parachuting.

At least, until about ten minutes ago.

“Uweeeeeeeek!”

As I hurled my guts into a soupy sand pit, I heard a weak, foolish voice.

“What’s with a man throwing up over something like that….”

“I just… fell for 20 minutes—Uweh.”

“Goodness….”

Veronica, grimacing, turned her head as if she couldn’t bear to watch. Despite pretending not to, her face was pale.

We had continuously plummeted for 20 minutes in silence, heaving our guts out.

Not in the sky, not in space, but in some indistinguishable area, the sensation of falling endlessly was indescribably unpleasant.

Damn it.

“How long have we been there…?”

“About 2 minutes… No, just over a minute.”

Veronica checked her watch and muttered helplessly. I plopped down on the sand, staring at the azure sky.

The bright sun blazed over the Mauritania Continent’s desert. As I regained awareness, I found myself amidst dunes surrounded by sand.

Just as I was lying on the sand, staring blankly at the sky, a shadow cast over my face as someone approached. It was a knight.

“Are you alright?”

“Does it look alright…?”

By magic or divinity.

The knight had used some baffling magic to escape from the facility, and casually brought us along too.

“The flow of time changing during spatial movement is a natural phenomenon, so you needn’t worry. Any dizziness or nausea you feel will fade quickly with rest, so there’s no need for concern.”

“…Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

While brushing hair behind her ear, Veronica gazed at the knight. With a hint of reproach in her eyes.

The knight, momentarily taken aback by the saint’s reproachful gaze, hesitated.

“…I spaced out.”

“……”

“It’s been so long since I carried someone, I forgot to notify you in advance.”

What kind of angel is this?

I glared as if questioning how someone so ridiculous could exist, and Veronica looked at the knight in disbelief. The knight, avoiding our fierce gazes, began to turn their helmet away.

How can this be an angel? It was almost embarrassing to show this to the world.

While Veronica and I were groaning like patients on the brink of death, the knight left with a parting message to rest.

“Wait here. I’ll return shortly.”

“Where are you going…?”

“I must find someone. Those who have been guarding the cedar coffin passed down through generations. Shamir.”

It was a statement that he was going to search for Akande.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and spoke to the knight.

“Is Akande the collaborator you mentioned?”

“Half correct.”

“What does that mean?”

“A collaborator doesn’t have to be just one, does it?”

It meant there were multiple collaborators seeking revenge.

The knight raised a gauntleted hand and pointed a finger.

“Do you remember the priest who sent you a letter?”

“…The High Priest?”

“I suppose that’s what they call him these days. In any case, I have many people to seek help from, including Shamir and the priest. Of course, that also includes my comrades.”

“By comrades, you don’t mean… angels, do you?”

Veronica, with a pale face, suddenly snapped to attention.

“Are you saying there are more angels?”

“Indeed. There are some of my fellow angels present in this land.”

The knight spoke with an unwavering tone, free of any falsehood.

Even amidst chaos, Veronica seemed to feel that peculiar sense as she stared at the knight vacantly.

“There are multiple angels….”

“Most are likely still asleep, as I was. But there are certainly still some awake. I intend to find them, awaken my sleeping comrades, and fight against the forces of evil.”

To do that, he first needed to find collaborators. That was the knight’s claim.

“Rest assured. I’ll be back shortly.”

As smoke enveloped the knight’s full plate armor, their shape dissolved into thin air. It occurred in the blink of an eye.

As if the knight had never been there, Veronica stared at the spot where the knight stood in a daze, while I turned to her and spoke abruptly.

“Veronica.”

“Yes?”

“Can we trust that guy?”

To be honest, as someone who doesn’t believe in religion, I had no way of knowing whether that knight was indeed an angel. But even assuming he was, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t become a threat to us.

The knight said he would fight against evil, yet we had no idea what that evil was. It could be a demon, a demon tribe, a vampire, or perhaps—just perhaps—another human.

I let out a faint sigh.

“After all, isn’t there a saying in the Bible? I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.”

What if one day, that knight suddenly barged into the Holy See, yelling, ‘Shut your mouths! Today, I have come to judge you, who have deceived the people with lies! I am an angel!’?

He could lash out with a whip, overturn tables, and shatter glass.

Perhaps sensing my thoughts, Veronica silently directed her gaze toward me.

“…I don’t know if he’s truly an angel or something masquerading as one.”

“……”

“Whether he’s an angel or not, there’s no way for us to defeat that knight right now, is there?”

“So, we should just observe for now?”

“That seems wise.”

Veronica let out a deep sigh.

“Still, I hope he turns out to be the virtuous angel mentioned in the scripture….”

“U’aaaaaaaaak-!!”

Crash!

A shrilled scream abruptly cut through Veronica’s words as a large object plummeted from the sky. It was a person. Someone I recognized well.

Looking up, the glowing hole with colors that were hard to pinpoint closed and vanished in an instant.

While Veronica, shocked, was at a loss for words, I nonchalantly kicked Akande’s fallen backside with my boot. No response.

“…Is he dead?”

“He’s still breathing…?”

Just then, a voice of despair came from behind, “Oh no….”

A knight who had appeared from somewhere began scratching his helm while gazing at the fallen Akande.

“I should have warned you that your head would hit first and cause you to faint… yet again, I made a mistake.”

“……”

“……”

Veronica.

Yes.

Do you feel like converting right now?

Because it seems the opportunity has just arisen.

 

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