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Veronica spoke.

“Very soon, the Magic Tower will grant the agrément.”

“The agrément issue will be resolved shortly.”

In the midst of the fierce three-way battle between the Magic Tower, the Cult, and the Empire, the Saint of the Cult, once a lobbyist for the Empire, spoke with conviction.

I asked her, “How is that possible?”

“Um…”

Veronica trailed off with a slight smile. After a moment, she blurted out with a strange expression, “Public opinion war…?”

—

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

The Minister said, “The Cult has expressed a willingness to actively resolve the diplomatic issue, Prime Minister.”

“…Hmm.”

While Frederick was briefing Veronica on the situation, a meeting was underway at the Prime Minister’s Residence.

Listening closely to the Foreign Minister’s words, the Prime Minister opened his mouth. “So, what are they planning to do?”

“…I’m sorry to say, but there were no specifics mentioned, Prime Minister.”

It wasn’t that they didn’t inform him; the Foreign Minister politely defended himself, claiming he wasn’t incompetent.

Then, the head of the National Intelligence Agency, the Royal Information Department Chief, cautiously started speaking.

“I’ve confirmed through local intelligence assets that a diplomat from the Cult has entered the Imperial Guard HQ’s Safe House.”

“…Really?”

“It’s still at the speculation stage, but it seems the Cult will ally with the Empire to pressure the Magic Tower. Along with the economic sanctions just announced, further sanction measures are expected to follow.”

It was a situation that bordered on irony rather than mere reporting.

While the Foreign Ministry was floundering due to a lack of understanding of the situation, the Royal Information Department was providing its own speculations based on the information they had gathered and analyzed.

As such, it was closer to a contest than a report.

This intention of the Royal Information Department Chief was apparent, as was the Foreign Minister’s discomfort from feeling blindsided in front of the Prime Minister, who was also interpreting this as inter-department competition.

The Prime Minister smiled.

He was partly pleased to hear a report that would assist in policy decisions and partly making a political judgment to bolster the Royal Information Department to rein in the Foreign Ministry’s discipline. Hence, he smiled.

“Haha. As expected from the Information Department. Thank you very much.”

“Thank you.”

“……”

The Royal Information Department Chief offered a brief word of thanks, having no intention of jiggling his rattle in a crowded place, and the Foreign Minister, feeling particularly irritated today, forced a smile.

It wasn’t really a smile.

“Well, since the Cult claims they will resolve the agrément issue, let’s put this topic aside for a moment…”

Leaving his smile in place, the Prime Minister changed the subject.

And then he cursed.

“What should we do about those magicians?”

—

“Public opinion war? Are you talking about psychological warfare or political maneuvering?”

“Is it necessary to use such stiff expressions?”

She was suggesting not to get bogged down by terminology.

While the terminology was important, it wasn’t the time to debate that, so I let her speak freely.

On my signal, Veronica began her explanation.

She tucked her silky hair behind her ear and started.

“First of all, the current situation is quite complicated, right?”

“Yes.”

There was a diplomatic tug-of-war involving the Magic Tower, the Empire, and the Cult.

Diplomatic battles don’t always occur above ground. They can also happen in the shadows.

Just as a tsunami begins in the ocean depths, the emergence of diplomatic issues often starts not at the surface, but below it.

Veronica pointed that out.

“This situation we’re facing isn’t something that just happened overnight, is it? Whether it’s independence or agrément denial.”

“……”

“It’s more like a festering wound bursting suddenly, right?”

Veronica argued that all of this had been anticipated for a long time and was a type of situation that could have been foreseen.

I had nothing to say; that was indeed the case.

The Magic Tower’s longstanding desire for independence. The choice to send diplomatic envoys to a nation in a de facto break in ties. Even historically and politically antagonistic states.

Veronica highlighted this.

“Surely the Cult didn’t fail to foresee this?”

The Saint of the Cult, once a lobbyist for the Empire, claimed that the Cult was behind all these events. She suggested that they had intentionally provided the clues that would become the cause, holding the keys to leadership and solutions.

I summarized her argument in one word.

“It’s a conspiracy theory.”

Veronica’s claims were, quite literally, conspiracy theories. They were mere assertions pieced together with flimsy evidence, and the fact that they somewhat aligned was extremely devious.

“This is an excessively biased judgment. I’ll admit it’s attractive, but it doesn’t seem to be based on rational information.”

Right. Just because someone is capable doesn’t mean they will always succeed. It seemed that this time, Veronica had failed in gathering intelligence.

I didn’t doubt her abilities. The intelligence she’d relayed had an almost 100 percent accuracy rate, and each piece was critical and classified.

However, given the circumstances, I couldn’t afford to take her words at face value. After all, people had died.

With Axel in hand, the three factions dashing towards the cliff had thrown all governments and intelligence agencies into chaos. Perhaps she too was swept up in that.

“Anyway, I appreciate the insights. Contact me if a more productive topic arises. For now, I’ll take my leave…”

Just as I was about to head back to the hotel room, Veronica’s voice came from behind.

“…Why have two saints emerged now?”

—

The term ‘magicien’ was very inappropriate to use in formal settings. Especially as it was derogatory, it was something that couldn’t even be carelessly uttered in private.

It was akin to how the President of Korea wouldn’t refer to North Korea as “red devils,” China as “chings,” or Japan as “squid devils” during a government meeting. Of course, the same went for ordinary citizens. Unless one was very close to the person, they usually held back from using such language even in front of friends.

It was a bit crude and extreme, after all. So, what the Prime Minister had just done would be a statement that could lead to severe consequences if it ever surfaced in a transcript. There were many magicians in Abas too.

That meant he was so heated that he was willing to use a word that could jeopardize his political life. Understandably, he was reacting strongly since his promised economic policies were under threat.

Thus, the attendees instinctively sensed it. They realized the Prime Minister had completely lost his cool.

In other words, the Prime Minister was thinking of taking any opportunity to attack the Magic Tower.

Sensing the Prime Minister’s intentions, the Foreign Minister quickly spoke up.

“How about attempting independent economic sanctions?”

The proposal from the Foreign Ministry was economic sanctions.

“How much profit are we making from trade with the Empire and the Cult? If we proceed with economic sanctions, we could turn this crisis into an opportunity.”

It was a suggestion to align with the Cult against the Empire.

Since the two sides had already strung the Magic Tower up, they had a rationale for rejecting the agrément. Literally, it was just about trashing those losers.

In reality, a substantial portion of Abas’s gains from trading with both nations was significant, so the Foreign Minister’s opinion was indeed plausible.

“Wait a moment.”

“…Why is that, Chief?”

“That’s not a practical measure.”

The Royal Information Department Chief challenged the suggestion made by the Foreign Minister.

An old-timer well-versed in the information industry rebutted with caution.

“Isn’t the Magic Tower aligned with us in terms of policy? It doesn’t look good for two democratic nations to attack each other.”

Whoa there! The Magic Tower isn’t an autocracy; it’s a democracy. We’re supposed to be a constitutional monarchy. What do you think the Empire and the Cult would say if we went after the Magic Tower—

That was essentially what the Royal Information Department Chief was trying to convey.

“The Empire and the Cult are both premised on absolute monarchy and theocracy, aren’t they? Nominally, the Empire has a parliament, but in reality, the opposition has no power due to the Emperor’s political oppression. If we impose sanctions on the Magic Tower from here, it would be nothing but a laughing stock.”

It was like saying, “Why can’t this diplomat see the flow of the times? Why is he spewing nonsense?”

The Royal Information Department Chief didn’t stop there; he even brought up a statement made by the Emperor twelve years ago during the National Foundation Day speech that highlighted “101 reasons why we shouldn’t go after the Magic Tower.”

It was clear that while meddling with foreign affairs from intelligence agencies was a blatant overreach, what did it matter? The times were what they were.

So, the Royal Information Department Chief verbally knocked down the Foreign Minister. He didn’t literally punch him; he did so with his words.

However, the Foreign Minister wasn’t someone who’d just roll over; he quickly retaliated.

“If we take a step that runs counter to the Cult and the Empire, aren’t we essentially declaring war? What will happen to our citizens if we push them into a desperate situation, making them shields?”

“What nonsense are you talking about? You’re getting a bit too worked up, aren’t you? Hehe…”

The response was unexpectedly fiery, causing the Royal Information Department Chief to back off slightly.

“Criticism without alternatives is not just criticism; it’s slander. Does the Information Department have any solutions to overcome this predicament?”

It was at that moment, just as the Foreign Minister’s question was posed, that the Royal Information Department Chief was about to respond.

“I do.”

An elderly man in military uniform seated across from the Royal Information Department Chief answered.

All eyes turned to him, and the Foreign Minister spoke with evident surprise.

“Director…?”

Military Intelligence Agency Chief.

“Do you have some brilliant plan? It doesn’t seem like the situation is serious enough for the military to intervene.”

He was essentially asking, “What gives you the right to interject here? Are you suggesting the military might start a war?”

“Ah, wait a moment.”

The Royal Information Department Chief hurriedly tried to regain the floor. In discussions, whoever introduces a topic first usually has the advantage in authority.

However.

“Please wait a moment, Chief.”

“……”

The Prime Minister, who had been listening quietly, intervened to stop the Royal Information Department Chief.

It was undoubtedly a humiliating act, but since the Prime Minister held the power to appoint the Director, the Royal Information Department Chief had to relinquish the microphone.

Seeing that, the Prime Minister smiled gently.

“Haha. Thank you for your consideration, Chief. Now, Director? Please feel free to speak. Yes.”

“Thank you.”

The Military Intelligence Agency Chief looked around the room once. Then, making eye contact with the Royal Information Department Chief, he cautiously began to speak.

“I don’t think we need to resort to economic sanctions.”

“Please, go ahead. I’m listening.”

And then, a bombshell erupted in the conference room.

“The Magic Tower has violated the Nastasia Treaty.”

—

In the hotel corridor, amidst the tight security of the police and the Inquisition, two individuals faced each other.

A soldier asked a religious figure, “…What do you mean by that? Why are there two saints?”

The priest of this world spoke to a spy from another world.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Everything.”

The priest in nun’s garb slowly walked away, while the spy in a suit followed her gaze.

“Why would the Empire support the Cult? Why did the Magic Tower refuse the agrément? Why are there two saints…?”

“……”

“Where did all this start?”

“The independence of the Magic Tower—”

“Then why is the Magic Tower seeking independence?”

Abruptly, steps halted.

A moment of silence fell. The religious figure looked up at the soldier, and the spy, mulling over the situation, finally spoke to the priest.

“…It’s because the Empire’s authority has been undermined.”

“And what caused this decline in authority?”

“……”

No one here was clueless about that reason.

Thus, the person most involved began to speak.

“…Assassination. To be precise, a terrorist act triggered by a loss of control resulting in an internal crackdown failure.”

“Right. So, do you think the Cult was truly ignorant of this mess? Especially the Pope, who is most vigilant against the Magic Tower?”

The saint spoke.

“In my opinion, the agrément was just collateral damage while Lucia took her punishment. Abas also played a part in toppling the Magic Tower, albeit decades ago.”

The Nastasia Treaty signing.

The cessation of diplomatic relations between the Magic Tower and the Cult, along with the formal failure of state recognition.

The Empire’s oppression of the Magic Tower’s independence.

Decades of underground Inquisition operations.

All the external pressures have led the Magic Tower, which has thrived as a financial hub, to this moment.

The Empire’s waning authority.

The decline of religious authority due to advancements in science and magic.

The Cult’s attempt to encroach on the Magic Tower using Camila as leverage.

An unintentional appearance of a saint before that scheme.

The birth of two saints, the first in the continent.

Saint Lucia, the 59th Saint of the Cult.

“……”

As these thoughts crystallized, I felt as if a long-held blockage had cleared up, like fitting a missing puzzle piece.

Then, the operative asked a question.

“…Who orchestrated this?”

“Probably Raphael. The Pope must be behind it.”

Raphael.

The newly-elected Pope, formerly the Inquisition Director, who vowed to create a safer Cult. It had only been a short while since his election. In other words, it was a time of regime change in the Cult.

The leader now wielding living power pushes through strong policies to gain leverage for policy agendas. Sometimes, there are things that only can be done at such a time.

And now the Pope was fervently obsessed with wiping out magicians.

So, if he aimed to create a safer Cult.

To elevate the authority of religion.

To restore the Cult’s greatness.

Who must be eliminated first?

The answer is,

“…The Magic Tower.”

Simply put, it meant chopping off the head of that pompous little brat.

Finally, with the answer in sight, Veronica smiled brightly.

“You wanted to know how we’d take on the Magic Tower, right?”

“……”

The saint beamed.

“All wars begin with propaganda.”

 

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