Ch.324Episode 13 – There Is No Country for Wizards

Happy moments may be brief, but their echoes linger long.

Our connection lasted until dawn, continuing until Francesca collapsed from exhaustion.

Only by late morning, when the unexpected rain had subsided and brilliant sunlight shone upon the moisture-soaked path, could I finally lift my heavy eyelids and raise my body.

Evidence of the previous night’s storm remained scattered throughout the bedroom.

A towel on the floor, damp blankets and sheets. Pale skin marked with reddish handprints.

Francesca, looking at me through half-open eyes, was blinking her violet irises with a tired expression, her cheek resting against my shoulder.

“You’re awake.”

“…Yes.”

A cracked voice emerged from between her dry lips. Francesca’s voice was completely hoarse.

Well, after screaming so much yesterday, how could her throat possibly remain intact? I moistened Francesca’s throat with a nearby water bottle.

Perhaps because the pain had subsided, Francesca slowly closed her eyes and fell asleep. As I watched her gentle breathing tickle my chest, I pulled up the disheveled blanket to cover her body.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a vacation, so resting for a few days should be fine. For both her and me.

Feeling the touch of silk against my skin, I embraced Francesca and immediately closed my eyes, drifting into sleep.

It happened on a day when bright sunshine poured down.

Episode 13 – There Is No Country for Wizards

The quiet morning had completely passed. The sun had already risen high, illuminating the world brightly.

Despite taking a long nap, the aftereffects of last night’s intensity hadn’t disappeared.

From the moment I woke up, I had to wince at the sharp pain running through my thighs and waist.

“Ugh…”

Literally, my entire body felt like it had been beaten.

My body, with not a single spot unscathed, was protesting through painful sensations, asking what on earth I had done last night.

But because there was someone in an even more serious condition than me, I had to take care of her instead of tending to myself.

“Are you alright, Francesca?”

“Don’t worry about me…”

Despite her words, Francesca’s condition looked serious at a glance.

Trembling legs, struggling to walk, staggering—Francesca looked hardly human. If anything, she resembled a newborn fawn just out of its mother’s womb.

With my own body in pain, I had to support Francesca.

Though we’d only left the bed, Francesca behaved like a severely ill patient.

I watched her quietly before chuckling and teasing her.

“I guess even elixirs don’t help with night activities?”

“…Be quiet, Officer.”

Though she sharpened her tone as if unwilling to lose even a single word, her wrecked body couldn’t be fixed by mere spirit.

In the end, Francesca had to spend the entire day in bed, tending to her trembling body.

Since I was the only one staying at the villa besides its owner, nursing her naturally became my responsibility. I didn’t mind losing a precious day of vacation. After all, Francesca’s recovery was more important to me.

But from the moment dawn broke the next day, I realized something was wrong.

*

“Place your right foot forward and position your left foot in a straight line with your right heel.”

My ankle turned and aligned at the correct angle. My feet formed a perfect 90-degree angle, finding stability but losing my center of gravity.

“Marche.”

I stepped forward with my right foot. My left foot followed, moving along the path my right foot had taken.

“Pas.”

This time, my left foot stepped forward first.

Like an assassin silencing their footsteps to strangle a target, my foot descended from the heel. My right foot stepped ahead of my left, touching the ground, and my left foot twisted slightly more to adjust the angle.

“Move sideways. Left, then right.”

I shifted my steps according to Francesca’s signals. First to the left, then to the right.

“Hmm.”

“What is it?”

“Your posture is terrible.”

Standing in the field behind the villa, Francesca evaluated me with a distinctly displeased expression.

“The spacing between your feet is either too narrow or too wide, your center of gravity is off, making your upper body unstable. When your upper body wobbles, naturally your lower body wobbles too, and as a result, your balance is completely ruined.”

Her strangely sharp criticism was infused with emotion.

Speaking in a tone that suggested I was pathetic, Francesca decided to demonstrate before correcting my posture, picking up her sword.

The saber’s blade drew an elegant curve, flashing in the sunlight. In contrast to its curved tip, the straight edge cut through the wind as it moved forward.

“The most important thing in handling a cavalry sword is footwork. To practice molinello, you must master footwork to properly execute swordsmanship.”

Watch and learn.

Holding the cavalry sword lightly, Francesca demonstrated personally. Forward movement, lateral movement, backward movement, evasion, and other positions. Francesca’s footwork was textbook perfect.

After footwork, she taught me several stances, attacks, and defenses.

“Block this.”

The cavalry sword swung down from above. I raised my sword to block Francesca’s attack.

It was a perfect defensive stance, but no praise came.

As I raised my sword again to block another downward strike, Francesca twisted her wrist to change direction.

Creating a rebound, the blade quickly retreated, and she used the sword’s kinetic energy to swing it horizontally.

The retreating blade changed direction in the blink of an eye, stopping in front of my torso.

In a real fight, the cavalry sword would have sliced through my exposed chest, but it returned to its original position without causing even the slightest scratch.

“This is what happens when your stance is predictable. While defense has advantages over offense, you need to stay alert to respond to sudden attacks.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Let’s try again.”

Against the backdrop of a red-roofed villa built on a picturesque cliff along the southern coast of Fatalia, under clear skies, Francesca and I practiced swordsmanship.

The cavalry sword training we were doing now was education that came about at Francesca’s suggestion. At dawn, she had appeared wearing something like a fencing uniform and unexpectedly demanded that I receive sword training from her.

This was the result.

“…Kut!”

A dull sensation striking my wrist brought me sharply to attention.

After blocking an incoming strike with a defensive stance and attempting to counterattack, I flinched as Francesca’s cavalry sword hit me.

Withdrawing her sword, Francesca spoke with a concerned voice.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes… I’m fine.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry. This protected me well.”

I tapped my thick wrist guard as I spoke.

Though I thought I was accustomed to physical activities, sword training with Francesca was by no means easy.

Just when I thought I’d blocked an attack, she would change the sword’s path to target an unguarded area, and while easily blocking my attacks, she would look for openings and counterattack. Despite wearing protective gear, my wrists and neck had been thoroughly battered.

After thoroughly thrashing me for over half a day, Francesca removed her sweat-soaked protective gear and declared a break.

“That’s enough for today.”

At the finally concluded sword training, I inwardly rejoiced as I sat down on a chair.

Francesca had recommended learning swordsmanship for self-defense and self-discipline, but her approach was somewhat ambiguous.

Perhaps lacking consideration for beginners? Francesca taught me swordsmanship step by step, but I couldn’t even lick the heel of her skill level.

Certainly, the National Security Agency’s internal assessment was accurate. She was someone who would have been highly successful even if born a knight rather than a wizard.

I fanned my sweat-drenched face and gulped down water.

“Ah, I’m dying…”

“Stop exaggerating. Here’s a potion.”

“Thank you.”

Sitting in one of two chairs set up in the backyard, Francesca handed me a potion and sighed lightly as she set down her cavalry sword.

The stamina recovery potion she had made herself was quite excellent.

Made with alchemical solution, centuries-old amber, precious ingredients used generously, and expensive alchemical gems, the potion’s effectiveness was undeniable.

“Hmm… This one tastes like grape. Did you add something?”

“I made it according to my usual recipe.”

Answering in a calm tone, Francesca gulped down her own potion.

A cool breeze tempered the hot air. Beads of sweat running down her fully exposed neck added accent to Francesca’s porcelain-like skin.

As I stared at that smooth, glossy neck, I turned my gaze elsewhere and broke the silence.

“For my first time learning swordsmanship, this is more fun than I expected.”

“You’ve never learned swordsmanship before?”

“The military limits who they teach swordsmanship to. You know, people with ambiguous compatibility who can only enhance their bodies with magical power.”

As if finally understanding the reason, an exclamation escaped Francesca’s lips.

“Ah.”

Though it’s a world where magic exists, the military is ultimately an organization that must consider efficiency. They maintain weapons and forces that might never be used, consuming budget like hippos while producing next to nothing in return.

That’s why whether on Earth or here, finance departments managing national budgets dislike defense departments.

Since government agencies approving budgets constantly pressure them to spend less—similar across time and space—defense departments in both Abas and Fatalia had to consider cost-effectiveness for efficient budget execution.

Magic was no exception.

In this neighborhood, people who can handle magical power are broadly classified into two types.

One is those who, with exceptional talent, can resonate with natural magical power and transform external magical power within their bodies into magic. These are what we commonly call wizards.

Then there are those born with ambiguous talent.

People who cannot absorb magical power into their bodies or have low efficiency and thus cannot use magic. Instead of using magic, they could strengthen their weak bodies with magical power.

People called those with such ambiguous talents knights.

Francesca, who had been listening quietly, wiped her sweat with a handkerchief and spoke.

“It’s been decades since knights became obsolete. Yet people still use the term ‘knight.'”

“It’s the most well-known term.”

With the advent of firearms, cold weapons retreated from the front lines, and most knights became unemployed.

Once called “warriors blessed by God” who dominated battlefields, knights couldn’t withstand the tide of time and became obsolete, either changing careers to become adventurers or mercenaries using their talents, or becoming instructors teaching swordsmanship to nobles from prestigious families or wealthy magnates.

Of course, government agencies like the military and police still employ knights, albeit in small numbers.

“Whether innate or acquired, there’s no reason to teach military magic to people who can only enhance their bodies with magical power. But we can’t waste skilled personnel just because they lack talent.”

Though they were half-baked wizards who couldn’t even use magic, the budget-obsessed Department of Defense wouldn’t tolerate such burdensome existences.

Thanks to that, knights employed by the military or police could use their bodies, far superior to ordinary people’s, to serve in special forces units or police tactical teams.

As if she wasn’t unaware of this fact, Francesca nodded calmly and answered.

“My brother was like that too.”

Placing her handkerchief on the table, Francesca raised her gaze to look at the sky. When her head slowly lowered after staring into the distance, what caught her eye was a cavalry sword leaning against the table.

“Though born of Ranieri blood, my brother had no talent for magic. Mother always comforted him, saying it was fine, but there was much gossip among the family elders since the eldest son had no aptitude for magic.”

“Were they disappointed?”

“A little.”

Born as the eldest son of the family, Francesca’s brother grew up bearing all the expectations of his elders.

However, when the magical aptitude test revealed he had no talent for magic, the family elders visibly showed their disappointment toward the young eldest son.

“Father was greatly disappointed too. He firmly believed his first son would revive the family, but my brother had no talent for magic. So my brother wasn’t treated well within the family. He lived almost as an abandoned child.”

Having said that, Francesca caressed the handle of the upright cavalry sword.

Her gesture of stroking the cavalry sword was tinged with loneliness.

“So as soon as he became an adult, he left the family and joined the military, but things apparently didn’t improve.”

Francesca’s brother, the eldest son of the Ranieri family, took his own life by throwing himself into a river.

Though the specific details weren’t revealed, I could roughly infer the circumstances.

“Even if you pass the background check, if you’re marked internally, you can’t be treated well. If you catch the eye of superiors negatively, even a perfectly capable person will have their promotion path blocked and be relegated to insignificant positions.”

“That’s how public service tends to be.”

Though her tone was calm, her expression was anything but.

With sorrowful eyes, Francesca gazed into the distance with a wistful expression.

Except for the villa where only two people stayed, no one lived in the surrounding area. No neighboring residents, no passing pedestrians.

Therefore, the sudden silence that came felt unusually heavy, unlike usual.

Maintaining her silence, Francesca seemed unwilling to continue on the same topic.

Whether it was longing for the deceased or deep-seated regret, I could clearly tell that the silence enveloping us was weighing heavily on her heart.

For Francesca’s sake, I changed the direction of our conversation.

“Let’s take a walk.”

I led her toward the coastal cliff.

The path leading from the forest to the villa was a prime spot that captured all the scenery—coastal cliffs, green fields, and the villa with its distinctive red roof. With the sound of crashing waves tickling our ears, we strolled slowly along that path, conversing.

I was the first to speak.

“The vacation is ending soon.”

“……”

“What will you do now?”

“I wonder.”

Giving an ambiguous answer, Francesca gradually narrowed her stride and folded her arms.

Vitality returned to her melancholic eyes. Returning to her role as an elite of the Secretariat, she exuded a sophisticated aura and tapped her fingers rhythmically.

“As soon as I return to work, I’ll need to prepare to enter the north. The aftermath of the battle must still remain throughout the north, so normalizing the infrastructure there is the first priority.”

“And then?”

“I’ll also need to address the delegation issue. Find out why Lord Martinez didn’t file a report, and investigate what Miss Schneider and Lord Marbo did in the past. I’ll also re-verify the Secretariat employees from the Moritani continent that you asked me to investigate.”

“What about our relationship?”

At my casually thrown question, Francesca’s lips closed.

She stared into the distance like someone lost in thought, forgetting even to tap her fingers. It was only when the wind that had taken away our heated body temperature began to tickle the nape of her neck that she broke the silence after much contemplation.

“For now, I’ll have to think about it.”

Francesca said.

“We’ll continue maintaining our fake relationship. That’s absolutely necessary for both you and me. But how long it will last…”

“……”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

It was an ambiguous answer.

Unlike her usual self, who clearly demarcated the boundary between public and private, Francesca struggled to make a decision. Like someone contemplating jaywalking at a red light in the early morning when no one is watching, she moved her lips hesitantly.

But once you’ve impulsively crossed a line, the answer is as good as predetermined.

Francesca said:

“But we shouldn’t cross the line any further. So—”

Having returned to her role as an intelligence officer, she took a step and turned toward me.

“Let’s keep last night a secret between us. An eternal secret between you and me alone.”

Francesca spoke with a resolute voice, her back to the cliff. I silently watched her with the vast horizon and brightly burning sun behind her. Having apparently made up her mind, Francesca was offering her proposal with a determined face.

I nodded and accepted her words.

“Let’s do that. If that’s what you want.”

Even if bodies intertwine, it’s still too early to share hearts. Having met through official relationships, we were reluctant to develop into a private relationship.

Defining last night as a one-night fling, Francesca turned and walked toward the villa. Her figure walking along the path that stretched along the cliff was markedly different from the warm person who had wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered love.

The same was true for me.

I, who had embraced Francesca and repeatedly told her I loved her, resolved to bury last night’s memories in a corner of my heart.

Just as I was closing my eyes and organizing my thoughts like meditation, with the sound of incoming waves as a backdrop:

“Who knows.”

Francesca, walking toward the villa, looked back.

Gently curving the corners of her eyes and lips, she turned her head and smiled softly.

“Maybe in that moment, I truly loved you.”

With those words, she turned again and disappeared into the villa.

*

The happy times vanished like a mirage, and the intense afterglow lingered painfully long.

The soil, soaked by unexpected rain, hardened more firmly under the sunlight. The same was true for my heart, which had blazed fiercely but now contained only embers.

The terrace overlooking the coastal cliff, the cozy bed, the shaded backyard, the path.

Having buried last night’s memories in a corner of my heart, I visited all these places with her one last time before leaving the villa.

I handed my passport to the immigration officer. After checking the stamp on my passport, the officer verified some documents and completed the departure inspection.

“Have a safe journey.”

The officer said as I collected my passport.

Turning my head, I saw a large warp gate. Beyond the gate, through which many people were passing in line, lay my destination.

A civil servant standing in front of it adjusted his hat and asked me my destination.

“Where are you headed?”

“The Kingdom of Abas.”

It was the moment when my brief but intense vacation came to an end.