Ch.23Blasphemia Branch (3)

“Damn it.”

Nardanit cursed. At this point, I sensed something was off.

‘Huh? Usually when an inspection team shows up, they don’t curse—’

Don’t they typically grovel and try to buy time?

To openly curse at an inspection team like that.

‘Was this guy really up to something behind the scenes?’

That only happens when there’s undeniable corruption actually present.

***

Nardanit stared at L13—no, Ortes—who had revealed his identity.

A skilled Blasphemia agent confident enough to state his name openly. Such a person had requested a private meeting with him under the ridiculous pretext of being a leftover from a bygone era.

What did this mean?

“…You knew everything when you came. You made it all the way here with that absurd excuse about being a stranded agent.”

“Haha, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The moment he revealed his identity as a secret inspector, Nardanit understood everything.

This man had come to investigate the Charlotte branch’s treasonous activities.

‘But I’m not sure exactly how much he knows.’

If he truly knew everything, he would have initiated combat as soon as they were alone.

But even if the whole truth hadn’t been revealed, Nardanit’s crisis remained. The moment he opened the database as requested, the inspector would detect the missing funds in the gaps between files.

What would happen next was clear. Purge.

Nardanit had expected the agent sent here to be either incompetent, a coward, or simply unfortunate.

In reality, he was none of these. He was an executioner wearing the mask of an unfortunate soul.

If he had been truly incompetent, unable to be mobilized for the war against monsters, or a coward who fled from battle, Nardanit could have persuaded him to join their side or forced him to.

If he had been genuinely unfortunate, Nardanit could have made up an excuse to send him back to headquarters, concealing the truth.

Even if he had somehow discovered their treasonous activities, Nardanit could have created an “unfortunate accident” to dispose of a single ordinary agent.

But this man was a prepared executioner. Blasphemia’s elite, ready to engage in combat at any moment, in any situation.

Nardanit slowly, very subtly, began drawing magical power. He needed to deliver the greatest impact with his first move. For the future of his comrades.

Ortes was merely perplexed by Branch Director Nardanit’s suspicious behavior.

‘What’s this? A branch director embezzling funds?’

‘The loyalty of the Blasphemia agents I’ve fought until now wasn’t this shallow.’

“Now, Director. Let’s calm down and talk.”

“Aren’t you tired of being loyal to those old men of the Ten Towers? How long must we live like this?”

Nardanit scoffed at the persuasion attempt that would never spare his life. After years in Blasphemia, he knew better.

Inspectors do not tolerate traitors. Even if he surrendered completely now and provided a list of collaborators, his reward would be either a quick death or imprisonment in the Magic Tower’s basement, becoming a living computational device.

“The Ten Towers treated us worse than dogs. Who was it that bled fighting those monsters? Blasphemia suffered generational annihilation, yet no one compensated us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut up! Despicable man. As if someone in the inspector’s position wouldn’t know! The blasphemous monster born of the White Light. Because of that thing, we—!”

Nardanit vented his fury. The Ten Towers, especially the White Light Tower, wanted to hide their shame from the world.

Blasphemia was, naturally, the most covert force the Ten Towers could employ. Yet even from them, certain missions had their truths concealed.

The mission from the White Light Tower was one such case.

Blasphemia was deployed with only the explanation that the target was an avatar containing divinity.

Most frontline agents were annihilated.

The fact that this avatar was first observed in the White Light Tower’s laboratory was only revealed when matters reached catastrophe. Even the White Light Tower couldn’t hide the truth from the other towers.

The Ten Towers agreed to commit Blasphemia’s full strength to eradicating that entity.

As a result, no life signs from the avatar have been detected since the great clash, but Blasphemia suffered irreversible damage in exchange.

“You mean Operation Golden Desert. Many agents died.”

“Many agents died? They were all Blasphemia’s finest! Is that how those old men describe destroying Blasphemia’s future?”

***

I remained silent.

‘There couldn’t have been that many casualties in Operation Golden Desert…’

We merely used an opportune extradimensional storm to make them disappear.

Those who drift beyond the extradimensional barrier usually return to reality after some time.

The magical power inherent in living beings protects them from the extradimensional space and draws them back to their original dimension like a magnet.

Of course, there are cases where people develop panic disorders or amnesia as side effects of returning from extradimensional space. But generally, the purer and stronger one’s magical power, the less likely they are to suffer severe side effects upon return.

That’s why the branch director’s clear anger was quite unexpected to me. I hadn’t anticipated Blasphemia being this weakened.

I needed to understand how traitors had emerged within Blasphemia. If I could grasp the internal situation of Blasphemia, and by extension the Ten Towers, destroying the White Light Tower’s Ten Commandments might become much easier.

The best way to extract information in this situation was to:

“Hmph, is that what the returnees say? Surely you don’t believe they’re the same beings they were before they disappeared.”

Complete nonsense.

I started throwing out “statements that sound knowledgeable at first glance.”

“Returnees” referred to those corrupted to their very souls after being trapped in the depths of extradimensional space.

It was also the least likely identity for whoever was inciting rebellion within Blasphemia.

‘Magicians of that caliber would have protected themselves before falling into the depths.’

Magic naturally draws from the world. Surely they couldn’t have drifted that deep.

When you throw out such an obviously wrong answer, the opponent typically mocks your ignorance. From that conversation, I could gather clues—

“You knew this much and still didn’t draw your magic? How arrogant.”

Wait, why is this actually correct?

***

Nardanit seethed with calm anger. Was this man trying to mock them by continuing this conversation while knowing everything?

“Our returned comrades told us. Let’s strip away the hypocrisy and pretense of the Ten Towers and establish a new order.”

“This is absurd. Are you serious? You must know that the corrupted ones are not the same beings they once were.”

“No. Who warned us about the dangers of extradimensional space? Those old men in the Ten Towers, right? We’ve been deceived all this time! By the foolishness of those elders who hid the truth!”

Ortes felt deeply perplexed. Could it be that some of those he had fought in the desert had returned as corrupted beings?

And not just rampaging until captured and killed, but moving so systematically to bring down the Ten Towers? Persuading and recruiting uncorrupted humans?

Nardanit detected Ortes’s confusion.

Though he couldn’t read his emotions since Ortes maintained his smile, it was clear the secret inspector was hesitating for some reason.

He immediately constructed a spell with the magical power he had gathered.

Cables from the engine room attached to his entire body. Magical power supplied directly from the magical core of the train engine assisted in casting the grand spell.

His hair moved, drawing complex patterns. Magical power circulated through his hair, forming metaphysical symbols and creating a spell of destruction.

The branch director’s authority activated. The limiter on the train’s magical core was released, synchronizing with Nardanit. The spell he prepared expanded throughout the train on a massive scale.

Nardanit’s best move.

To bury the truth of his comrades, he would blow up the train, himself, and the inspector.

He saw the inspector grip a high-frequency blade. A pitiful resistance.

Even if the inspector cut off his head, it was too late. He might stop Nardanit’s spell, but he couldn’t cancel the command already input into the magical core.

Crack!

But the high-frequency blade wasn’t aimed at Nardanit’s neck. The blade dug into the floor of the train.

‘What is he doing?’

The blade Ortes thrust had penetrated all the way to the pipeline through which the magical core circulated power. But attacking that now wouldn’t change anything.

Ortes inserted a magic engraving drive into the handle of the high-frequency blade.

Only then did Nardanit understand what Ortes was trying to do.

“Magic interference? Ha!”

When a spell is cast, casting a similar type of spell at exactly the same timing to disrupt the structure of the original spell—a technique.

But it was impossible.

The effect of magic interference increases with precise timing and decreases with the magnitude of the magic being interfered with.

To interfere with a spell powerful enough to blow up the entire train, one would need to use magic with absolutely no margin for error.

Nardanit counted down to the massive explosion.

‘Three, two, one.’

At the final moment.

Ortes opened his eyes.