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“From the transparent broth, white steam rises as the ladle sweeps the edge of the pot, skimming off the foam.

Decorative glass jars, herbs boasting luscious leaves, and clear broth peeking through the bubbles.

The bubbling pot in the kitchen resembled the workshop of an alchemist.

There was my younger sister, who would wail at the drop of a dust speck ruining her concoctions; and Francesca, mixing together unidentifiable ingredients.

Even though my body couldn’t use magic, I had gained a knack for observing magicians over the years.

It was only natural to feel a warm nostalgia at the kitchen’s scene.

– Kieeeek!

“Huh?”

Just as I was about to step inside, I was startled, halting the doorknob’s turn. A chilling sound had emanated from the depths of the kitchen, despite only just crossing the threshold.

Was it the wailing of the damned echoing from the deepest pits of hell? It was a scream so hard to articulate.

What on earth was happening? Had a demon appeared?

Stuck in place like a statue, my body frozen, a pale face suddenly popped out from behind the refrigerator.

“Oh? It’s you, Colonel.”

“Veronica?”

It was Veronica.

The saint was staring at me, holding a ladle in one hand while blinking in surprise.

“What’s with that scream? Who are you torturing?”

“Ah, you heard it? It’s not from a person… um, I guess you could call it torture!”

“What are you talking about…?”

“Take a look at this.”

Veronica plunged the ladle deep into the pot.

Twisting the handle, she stirred the liquid, which I couldn’t tell if it was broth or something else, revealing clear broth filled ladle by ladle. Her face was beaming with joy.

Veronica carefully brought the ladle of broth to the table. What lay on the long tabletop was a gigantic case.

As the broth poured over the musket infused with the soul of a demon, ear-splitting screams began to fill the kitchen.

– Kuaaaak!

Clamping my ears shut from the unpleasant noise, I watched as Veronica gently set the ladle down, wearing a satisfied expression.

“Surprised, are you? It’s because of the curse laid upon that weapon. I’m in the process of putting it to sleep.”

“Putting a curse… to sleep?”

“Yes!”

“How?”

“By steeping it in holy water. Right here!”

*Tap.* She struck the pot with the ladle, producing a clear, ringing sound.

Peering into the steaming pot, I saw old crosses and rosaries simmering with the herbs.

“Even a tiny shard could be a weapon imbued with a demon’s soul. The Holy See keeps curses that priests cannot purify sealed away like this. Come to think of it, isn’t the Magic Department somewhat similar?”

“That may be true, but…”

I looked again at the weapon steeped in holy water with a perplexed expression. I had heard they sealed high-risk curses in the Magic Department, but I had never heard of it being steeped like kimchi.

Never mind the holy relics, but why were herbs added? Unable to quell my curiosity, I asked, and she replied it was for the fragrance.

Saying something absurd like the smell of stale lanolin was exceptionally terrible.

“It seems like just yesterday we were using the bones of a saint to make broth… and now we’re making soup with it.”

“It’s effective, you see? You can tell, right?”

With her cheerful, beaming face, Veronica tilted the ladle. As the bubbling holy water hissed and splashed again, another scream erupted.

I stared at Veronica with a dumbfounded expression. Then I looked helplessly at the musket, steeped in holy water and screaming. It dawned on me that she was torturing a demon.

“…Veronica.”

“Yes?”

“It seems to me that rather than a saint, you should have been an Inquisition Officer.”

Ramiel, holding it in his hand, moved his fingers as if petting a chin. Then, he continued to speak in a tone that was very interesting.

“I remember it being much larger before. It’s shrunk down to something as small as a dwarf, making it unrecognizable. Now that I look closely, familiar features are appearing.”

“Heeek…!”

Perhaps overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the angel, a scream escaped the nymph’s lips.

Hastily, Charnoy, avoiding the gauntlet, curled up behind me, covering her head with her hands.

“The armor is talking…!”

“…….”

I slyly shoved Charnoy’s squirming figure away from my legs. Her persistent grip on my pant leg was a real hassle.

To explain why I had brought this nymph into the mansion, I first needed to recall the instructions given by Leoni.

Shortly after my report went up, a meeting was held at the Abas Intelligence Community.

In a gathering that included high-ranking information officers and heads of institutions, Leoni asserted the necessity of surveillance. Although there was no way to confirm whether this was indeed an angel, more detailed information was needed to determine if the individual was dangerous or safe.

The Abas Intelligence Community agreed with Leoni’s opinion. Using her authority as the director, she classified all materials related to angels as top secret and simultaneously ordered me to assign a watcher.

I nominated Charnoy for that role.

“She will stay here in the mansion to protect you.”

Ramiel and Nathaniel didn’t particularly need others’ help in their daily lives. After all, they neither ate nor slept, so what help could they require?

However, we needed to keep an eye on both of them, and considering Nathaniel’s wariness of humans, it was evident that the suitable candidate for this task had to be the nymph, Charnoy.

Of course, she vehemently denied it.

“Eh…?”

Suddenly being reassigned to a different post, Charnoy gasped in shock.

Her bright eyes filled with tears, as if she had just been backstabbed by a friend, with me being labeled as the traitor.

“T-That black-haired beast sold Charnoy out…!”

“I didn’t sell you out!”

“Truly a nymph-hating decision…! This is why you shouldn’t mess with the black-haired beasts…!”

I finally pried Charnoy off my pant leg and tossed her towards Ramiel. I offered her a bag of honey candy as a consolation, which made her tearfully thank me, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Take Charnoy away…! And immediately call Pippin here…!”

Charnoy was reluctant to leave and asked me to pass on her regards to Pippin.

She insisted her interpretation was wrong, but I firmly disagreed. The translation capabilities of my brain, implanted in my skull, were infallibly accurate. It was, in fact, Charnoy who was mistaken.

“Ugh….”

Charnoy, too pleased about moving to the mansion, was shaking with excitement.

Having been unable to articulate her joy, the nymph trembled, then pulled out a communication device equipped with a secret function from her pocket and began contacting someone.

“Kair….”

-‘Nyaa?’

“Come quickly to take me, Charnoy…!”

Charnoy called her friend Kair to ask for a lift home, but unfortunately, that dream was dashed.

Due to Leoni’s orders, Kair had also been assigned as a watcher.

While claiming that assignments must go to non-human staff, I heard that the Royal Intelligence Department’s operations team had a beastman, hence they planned to take him. I tried calling Matt for some cooperation, but he was said to have already left.

So, another watcher was added.

It was a development I was unaware of until it unfolded.

Honestly.

“KYAAAAAH-! That annoying nymph dragged me into this mess too!”

“That black-haired beast is going wild…! This time it’s for real, a beast…!”

Suddenly ‘kidnapped’ (not really), Kair was darting around the mansion on all fours like crazy. Whenever he encountered Charnoy, he would hiss at her, forcing him to steer clear of the beastman for a while.

Watching it was like seeing a cat chase a cheese-loving rat. Ramiel laughed heartily at the commotion.

Anyway.

In the mood of an office worker running mobile auto-hunting in Lineage, I immersed myself in my primary job, leaving the surveillance duties to the nymph and beastman.

I roamed around with Camila hunting monsters, and contacted officials from the Ministry of Defense following Francesca.

Perhaps due to rumors spreading about the alchemical weapon capable of melting monsters, even defense attachés from distant continents were keen to meet Francesca. I sifted through the diplomats dispatched to the embassy, gathering useful information.

Of course, I also didn’t miss managing the information agents.

“Hey. Is this Victor? The mansion is functioning well. I’m contacting you because of the market. I heard Kien Empire shells were being sold cheap and in bulk in the war zone. Do you know anything about that?”

“That’s me. How are things in the north? I heard rumors the Palm Tree Trade Guild is aiming to penetrate the Necropolis, so I thought I’d reach out. They say there’s going to be a crackdown somewhere in the eastern ports.”

“No issues in the Necropolis? That’s good to hear. By the way, have you cut down on the drugs, Joaquin?”

While it’s great that intelligence was naturally gathering, ultimately, it was my job to manage and analyze what came in.

I was preoccupied compiling and analyzing sourced data into reports when fresh news came in.

“We’ve got news from the Necropolis. Apparently, some unidentified religious figures were seen meeting with former followers of Al-Kair there.”

Notes scattered across the table haphazardly. Data collected by Joaquin, disguised as a staff member of the Palm Tree Trade Guild in Necropolis.

Veronica began reviewing the intelligence gathered through inquiries. I sipped on black tea, continuing to speak.

“Taking into account that the Inquisition has raised suspicions of a connection between Al-Yabd and Al-Kair, the situation is quite dubious. I suspect those who claimed to have been in contact with cultists are priests of Al-Yabd.”

“Hmm….”

Veronica, nibbling on the end of her fountain pen, shook the memo she was holding.

“Is there any evidence?”

“Yes. There were some suspicious aspects.”

According to Joaquin’s investigation, the religious figures that interacted with Al-Kair introduced themselves as cultists. Their power was weak, but they were quite active within the Necropolis.

However, upon inquiry through contacts within that organization, it was reported that such individuals did not exist. There were claims that they had been away as a group since January, and not one believer remained in the city.

Just to be safe, I ordered further investigation, and Joaquin began probing the Ash Tree Alley in the Necropolis.

After inquiring about the cultists who had deep connections to the organization, it indeed turned out that they had been away, only recently returning to Necropolis.

Bringing the memo from Veronica to my lips, I spoke.

“Since we’ve obtained testimonies through different groups, its credibility holds some weight. They have no reason to lie.”

“If that cult really did leave, the religious figures that met with those who stole Lucia’s blood must be hiding their identities?”

“Exactly.”

There are many spirits hiding in the harbor of the dead, but none would go to the extent of concealing their identities while masquerading as others.

Impersonation is a serious concern, especially for a cult that needs to evade the religious police.

If one wished to commit suicide, there are countless ways to do so, and if one wants to hide their identity simply staying silent would raise no suspicions. They have no reason to go as far as impersonation.

That was the argument from Joaquin, a native of the Necropolis.

“If they concealed their identity by impersonating another religion, there are two possibilities.”

I leaned back and opened my mouth.

“They could either be a clueless idiot unaware of how the city operates, or a cunning individual not planning to stay long. If someone were to catch on that they were acting under false pretenses, they’d surely be tracked down… They likely had faith that those nuts wouldn’t dare touch them.”

Veronica, resting her chin on her hand, slowly lowered her hand and asked.

“Are these the priests of Al-Yabd?”

I nodded silently, and a sigh escaped Veronica’s lips.

“Hah… it’s the most plausible assumption.”

“Is there no one else that comes to mind as a potential mastermind?”

“That makes it all the more headache-inducing.”

Despite the suspicions surrounding Al-Yabd, the situation felt even stranger.

Just what was Al-Yabd aiming for with Lucia’s blood? And why did they take the sleeping angel?

“The angel claimed that whatever it is, whether it’s a tree or a bird that drinks the blood, will run wild. There’s no reason for Al-Yabd to awaken a demon.”

“I’m not even sure about that. Initially, what they planned to do with my sister’s blood and the angel is a mystery too.”

“Geez….”

What a convoluted disaster.

There were too many inconsistencies to suggest that such acts were merely due to differing religions. It seemed far more realistic to think a certain someone, possessed by a demon during the Northern Celestial Event, acted independently. Of course, that too lacks evidence.

“Let’s take a break.”

Perhaps due to the incident falling into a labyrinth without any threads to hold onto, Veronica pressed her temple and groaned.

She rested her arms on the sofa while lighting a cigarette. While she took her break, I went to the kitchen to bring back some palm wine.

Pouring enough to create a splash in the cup, I ground the ashes of the cigarette into the ashtray and began to speak.

“Why is it that even foreigners can’t buy any alcohol here…?”

“They say it’s due to the laws. You know how the religious police have their eyes peeled everywhere.”

“I don’t even worship the Earth God.”

Just then, as I was engaging in idle chatter with Veronica.

Knock, knock. A clear sound of glass tapping came from somewhere. Thinking it was just the wind, I turned my head, only to find a giant bird pecking at the window with its beak.

Without thinking of anything, I shifted my gaze and met the sharp, glaring eyes of the bird, causing me to startle. The precious wine splashed out, staining my pants and the carpet in an instant.

“…What the hell is that?”

“It’s Aquila. It seems the elder has sent a letter.”

Veronica, still holding the cigar, got up from the sofa and approached the window.

Unlocking the latch and carefully opening the window, a hawk hopped over the sill. It was Aquila, both a communication tool and a beloved divine beast of the High Priest.

Showing an air of superiority, as if dismissing trivial humans, the divine beast extended one leg towards the saint. Hanging from its outstretched leg was a small letter.

“Here you go.”

Veronica fetched some meat from the refrigerator and tossed it at the creature.

Upon this, Aquila puffed up its glossy chest and strutted, then abruptly jabbed its beak into the meat. Moments later, the delightful sounds of chomping filled the air as the divine beast began its meal.

I stared at the hawk, flapping its wings, mesmerized by the meat, before shifting my gaze back to Veronica.

“What does the letter say?”

“I sent a message a few days ago. I had found a new angel. I asked for a reply to address a few questions. It’s arrived now.”

Veronica gently untied the knot of the letter as the wax was deftly sliced off with a knife, and she began to slowly unfold the rolled-up parchment.

“…….”

The expression on Veronica’s face stiffened oddly as she read the words. A subtle change difficult to notice.

I cautiously approached her side as I sipped the palm wine.

“You look serious; is something wrong?”

“…It seems you need to see this in person.”

She abruptly handed me the letter from the High Priest. I took the letter and read it slowly.

 

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