Ch.258Episode 12 – The Strongest Mage in History

“Soaking a person? What does that mean? Are you assassinating someone in the domestic division?”

-“Ah, that’s not it. This is a matter for the foreign division.”

“When you say foreign division…”

-“It’s work that Leoni has been handling for some time. I can’t explain everything to you due to circumstances, but do you remember what I told you before? Before you went to the North.”

“You told me not to get caught up in any trouble.”

-“Yes. You remember. It’s related to that. The situation has changed somewhat, and I regret not being able to tell you the specifics, but don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough. For now, just know that you need to send a few people into the North. From now on, keep your eyes wide open. Watch what’s happening in the North, who’s acting suspiciously.”

“……”

-“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Episode 12 – The Strongest Mage in History

As always, the weather in the North was gloomy.

The sky, heavy with dark clouds, was so overcast that not even a single ray of sunlight broke through.

Usually, the bleak atmosphere would be somewhat alleviated by gently falling snowflakes, but with snow pouring down heavily enough to collapse military barracks, my already low spirits felt like they were sinking through the basement floor.

“Haah…”

A sigh came from behind me. I turned around, coffee cup and document binder in hand, having been looking out the window.

The sigh belonged to Camilla.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw on my way here that there was an accident at the refugee camp.”

Camilla said, brushing snow off her shoes and shoulders.

“Several makeshift tents collapsed. No one died, but it seems some refugees will need to be relocated.”

In the North, refugees are divided into three categories based on their living arrangements.

Those staying in their own homes or with relatives. Those staying in shelters built by the imperial government over decades. And finally, those living in tents.

The people Camilla mentioned belonged to the last category.

The Kiyen Empire had fortified the North and established shelters to deal with the magical beasts, but these shelters couldn’t accommodate the growing northern population due to increased life expectancy, improved medical systems, and policies encouraging migration to the North.

So after martial law was declared, the military government set up refugee shelters in parks, subway stations, and vacant lots.

Of course, they’re called shelters, but they’re essentially refugee camps. And they’re even worse than the facilities for refugees from war-torn regions on the outskirts of Europe.

Hearing Camilla’s story, I could picture the situation. The heavy snowfall overnight must have caused the tents in the refugee camp to collapse. I didn’t need to see it to know what happened.

I put down the document I was reading and handed Camilla a hot chocolate, with some grumbling thrown in.

“Don’t go that way, Camilla. It’s dangerous. What if the refugees come at you with knives?”

Camilla chuckled and made a trigger-pulling gesture with her right index finger.

“But I have armed soldiers following me around, don’t I?”

“Ah, then it’s fine.”

After four Inquisitors were killed, the military government assigned security personnel to Camilla and her companions.

While secure areas like hotels and military government buildings were fine, they now had heavily armed soldiers and combat mages accompanying them everywhere—not just to the front lines, but even to nearby parks.

Honestly, what good is magic against something that can chew through bullets and withstand Inquisitor attacks…

Still, it’s safer than wandering around alone.

“Oh, right. I brought the list here.”

Camilla pulled out some documents. A list of apostates and missing persons managed by the Inquisition.

After handing me the list, Camilla took a sip of hot chocolate.

“I looked through the apostate list, but there was no one matching the description of the person you mentioned.”

When I brought Camilla to the rear, I didn’t explain what was happening in the North.

I was worried about causing her unnecessary concern, and I didn’t want her getting involved, so I just told her it was an extension of the terrorism investigation, like when I first assigned her the list.

Thankfully, Camilla didn’t pry. She took a sip of hot chocolate and smacked her lips.

“But I brought both lists just in case, to show you directly.”

Pointing to the list on the right of the two, I asked:

“Is this the missing persons list?”

“Yes. That’s what I was planning to show you today.”

I first picked up the apostate list on the left.

The sound of flipping papers continued for a while. After examining the apostates for some time, I shook my head and closed the list.

“He’s not among the apostates.”

I opened the missing persons list.

Unlike the apostate list, the missing persons list was quite thick.

As I examined the missing persons classified by region, year, activities, and other criteria, Camilla, who had been drinking her hot chocolate, suddenly spoke up.

“Um…”

“What is it?”

“The person you’re looking for… They’re dangerous, right?”

I answered without taking my eyes off the documents.

“Yes.”

“Will it be okay?”

Camilla said.

“No one’s saying much, but the atmosphere has become tense, and seeing how the Imperial Defense Ministry assigned security personnel, something bad must have happened. Looking at the situation, it seems related to the person you’re searching for…”

“……”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

I stood still for a while, pausing my page-turning.

After silently staring at the papers, I inwardly sighed and met Camilla’s gaze.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not that serious.”

“Really? Are you sure there’s no problem?”

“Of course.”

I smiled brightly.

“There’s no problem at all.”

*

After the Duke’s letter was delivered, the Order and the Empire began to move closely together, but no magic solution to resolve the situation overnight emerged.

The Order and the Empire decided to pour all available resources into quickly resolving the situation in the North.

The joint investigation team currently being formed by the Inquisition and the Imperial Magic Department will handle various tasks including tracking the monk, exterminating undead, and searching for missing villagers.

Of course, the investigation into the suspect who killed Imperial combat mages, Imperial Magic Department investigators, and Imperial Army escort units is being conducted separately. Since an Order cleric was identified as a suspect in the murder case, it was decided that the Imperial Magic Department would conduct that investigation independently from the joint investigation with the Inquisition.

Anyway, the Order and the Empire agreed to make every effort to catch the suspect, and as a result, several Inquisition intelligence officers and Imperial Magic Department officials visited St. Basilius Cathedral in the North to meet with a victim who held clues to solving the case.

“Oh my.”

I bowed politely to the victim lying in the hospital bed.

“How are you feeling, Sister Rebecca?”

“Ah, Officer.”

Sister Rebecca responded with a slight bow. She was lying in bed, wrapped in bandages all over her body.

“People from the Inquisition and Magic Department have been coming and going, so I came to visit. I actually wanted to visit a few days ago, but the healing priests stopped me. Now that outside visitors seem to be allowed, I’ve come to see you.”

“My condition was quite poor, so they couldn’t allow outside visitors in the room.”

“How are you now?”

“Much better.”

I’ve never met someone who says they’re fine and actually is fine. Sure enough, Sister Rebecca looked noticeably gaunt.

Even just sitting still in bed, she was sweating profusely and occasionally wincing.

Whenever she felt a sudden pain and grimaced, Sister Rebecca would press a button on a device resting on her knee. After pressing the button and waiting about a minute, her contorted face would return to a peaceful expression as if nothing had happened.

I noticed what the button was for.

“Pain medication?”

“Yes.”

Narcotic painkillers.

These are drugs with pain-relieving effects used to manage severe pain, like post-surgical pain. Typically, car accident victims, those who’ve undergone major surgery, or cancer patients are prescribed narcotic painkillers at a doctor’s discretion.

Usually, terminal cancer patients are prescribed narcotic painkillers, and if you see firsthand how much pain they suffer, you naturally understand why they need such medication.

From that perspective, the pain Sister Rebecca is experiencing is comparable to that of a terminal cancer patient.

I stared at the bandages tightly wrapped around Sister Rebecca’s arm.

“Was it your arm?”

Sister Rebecca nodded.

“From that monk bastard?”

“…Yes.”

After a slight pause, Sister Rebecca nodded heavily.

The bandages covered from the beginning of her elbow where the bicep is located, all the way to her shoulder. Looking closely, the flesh inside the bandage, specifically around the shoulder joint, was turning black.

Tissue necrosis. Definitely a wound inflicted by the monk.

I clicked my tongue and remarked:

“At least it’s just your arm. I was stabbed in the abdomen and chest…”

“I caught a glimpse of the wounds on your body during transport, Officer. It’s a wonder you’re alive.”

“It’s almost a miracle, really.”

Like Sister Rebecca, my wounds are also rotting. The cause is unknown, and there’s no known treatment.

For now, I can move if I take painkillers, but as soon as their effect wears off, terrible pain starts to surge. The only consolation, if any, is that the flesh isn’t rotting further thanks to the holy water from the cathedral and Lucia’s efforts.

I poured holy water into a cup provided in the room. Then I took out a painkiller and popped it into my mouth.

“You can move around despite your injuries?”

“The Saint calls me a walking corpse.”

There’s no problem normally. As long as I take effective painkillers regularly, I feel only a bit stiff but no pain.

But when the medication wears off, or when I undress to bathe, seeing the black flesh covering my upper body makes me face the reality I’ve been trying to forget.

“If the blade had gone just a bit deeper, I would have died on the spot. It’s not a problem now since it’s still in the early stages, but the symptoms will worsen over time. How about you, Sister Rebecca?”

“I don’t know. The healing priests have examined me, but they’re not sure when my injury will heal.”

Looking down at her bandaged arm, Sister Rebecca added in a gloomy voice:

“I might never be able to use my arm again. In the worst case, even the bone could rot.”

“That’s unfortunate. I wish you a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you, and likewise. But what brings you here? Seeing that you’ve visited before, it seems you have something to discuss.”

I sat down in the visitor’s chair beside the bed.

“Ah, I have something to tell you and also something to ask.”

Murder cases, terrorist incidents, the spider attacking the rift, troublesome tower mages, the task Clebins assigned—there’s so much to do.

But there’s a more urgent matter.

I took some papers out of my briefcase and handed them to Sister Rebecca.

“Please look at this first.”

“What is this…”

Sister Rebecca’s voice trailed off.

She looked at the paper in her hand once, then raised her head to look at me.

“Where did you find this?”

“It’s from the missing persons list.”

The paper in Sister Rebecca’s hand contained the personal information of a monk. And that monk was a face we both knew well.

Pretending to help people while wandering through remote villages in the North.

Spreading potentially dangerous sorcery to children.

Suspected of providing the black magic used in the terrorist incident.

And when cornered, killing four Inquisitors and fleeing.

“I found that monk bastard.”

It’s definitely him.

*

A few weeks ago, Chief Peter urgently visited the Kiyen Empire.

Imperial combat mages who had been dispatched to support troops defending the rift against a suddenly appearing monster were found dead in a mountain valley, and an Order cleric was identified as a suspect in the murder.

To clearly establish that they were not behind this incident, the Order directly dispatched Peter, the Chief of the Inquisition, as an envoy to the Kiyen Empire.

He contacted Victor after going to the Magic Tower with Francesca, then summoned me to the Order’s embassy after I returned to the diplomatic residence, and there he handed me a list.

A list of apostates and missing persons managed by the Inquisition.

From that list, I found the monk who had killed the four Inquisitors.

“Real name: Romain Cheire. A monk from the northern Mamlaka Kingdom of the Morinatian continent. Cheire, of French-Mamlakan mixed heritage, came to the continent as a child with his father, converted to the faith with his parents, and received the baptismal name ‘Agato,’ serving as a monk in the Order.”

The man in the photo had features commonly seen on the continent, yet with something exotic about them.

Standing alongside other monks and smiling broadly, he looked much younger than when I met him in that remote northern village.

“Afterward, Cheire lived as a monk across various dioceses before becoming a clerical monk who served as both cleric and monk. According to official records, around the time he was appointed as a clerical monk, Cheire crossed over to the Moritanian continent to work as a missionary, but…”

I tapped the lower part of the document Sister Rebecca was holding. At the bottom of the missing persons list was a copy of an Inquisition employee ID card with the Inquisition’s official seal clearly stamped.

“According to Inquisition records, he wasn’t a missionary but a combat priest assisting an exorcist.”

The trail of Romain Cheire, baptismal name Agato, didn’t end there.

As a combat priest, he traveled throughout the Moritanian continent with an exorcist and successfully completed several missions assigned by the Inquisition.

However, after reporting the success of a mission, Romain Cheire suddenly disappeared one day. He vanished along with the exorcist who had accompanied him.

On the page Rebecca turned to, there was a photo taken with other exorcists before leaving a house.

A middle-aged Romain Cheire standing and smiling alongside other priests, and an elderly priest with graying hair. This photo is the last known trace of Romain and the exorcist who accompanied him that the Inquisition has secured.

I tapped the photo. Specifically, the year and date recorded below it.

“This photo was taken on December 17, 1981. It’s almost 20 years old.”

In the decades-old photo, Romain Cheire had the appearance of a typical middle-aged man.

And a few days ago, when I met Romain Cheire in that remote northern village, he still had the appearance of a typical middle-aged man.

“But why hasn’t this bastard aged at all?”