Ch.437Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

“There’s a cultist in the refugee camp trying to assassinate the Saint.”

The soldier of the Order said.

“Assassination?”

“Yes.”

“……”

I leaned my upper body forward and listened attentively to Ibrahim’s words.

Ibrahim took a sip of wine and began speaking with a calm expression.

“Before getting to the main point, I should provide some background. Let me first explain how we obtained this information.”

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

It had been a breathless period.

Ten years had already passed since I began carrying out operations between Laterano and the continent across the sea. The war between the Order and the cultists, which had continued for thousands of years, was still ongoing even now that the mysteries had been unveiled.

Then a rumor reached us. A rumor that the First Descendant might come to the Mauritanian continent.

It wasn’t just a simple rumor.

Prominent figures from various sectors of society were discussing it on well-known broadcasts. They said that the Morning Star, who had killed demons and driven away demonic tribes in the north, would soon head to the Mauritanian continent with her companions. There was also talk of a new Saint favored by the celestial gods coming.

What started as a rumor was soon proven true.

It began with a directive sent by the Papal Office to each department.

“A directive came down from the Papal Office. It was an order stating that the Saint would visit the Mauritanian continent in the near future, and we should make thorough preparations.”

The newly enthroned Pope, Raphael, issued instructions to guarantee Lucia’s safety. This was evidence that the rumored dispatch of the Saint to Mauritania was true.

The Papal Office’s directive was also conveyed to the knights operating on the Mauritanian continent through the War Office. Following Raphael’s instructions, the directive contained orders to identify and take measures against all potential threats to the safety of the Saint and her companions designated by the oracle.

The Inquisition Office identified all potential threats in the area based on intelligence they had independently collected and information shared by various intelligence agencies. The compiled data was soon passed on to the Holy Knights.

It was then that a suspicious piece of intelligence was detected by the Inquisition Office.

“What was that intelligence?”

“It contained information that a cult group had targeted Saint Lucia.”

The content of the intelligence was serious. However, it was difficult to consider it a high priority.

This was because many local religious groups, including Al-Yabd, the mainstream religion of Mauritania, were hostile to the Order.

The Saint was a good target from the perspective of religious groups hostile to the Order. It was almost like a high-ranking clergy member of their enemy walking right into their home.

Intelligence reports about local religious groups targeting Lucia were reported from all over the Mauritanian continent, and some groups were confirmed to be openly threatening to kill the Saint. Therefore, although the Inquisition Office had obtained intelligence about the cult group, they did not pay much attention to it.

Even the Inquisition Office had limitations in processing intelligence.

It was more rational and efficient to monitor large, truly dangerous religious groups rather than investigating a small cult group.

So the Inquisition Office ignored the initial report. Even when similar reports came in from the same cult group a few days later, they were overshadowed by news of a terrorist attack where a Mauritanian warlord raided a religious school and beheaded students and clergy.

Up to this point, it was a common occurrence in intelligence agencies.

Not all intelligence contains the truth, and sometimes informants exaggerate incidents to increase their own value. The Inquisition Office probably judged this to be a false report.

But then an accident happened.

“An informant who had infiltrated the cult group was killed. It was the same informant who had initially provided information that the group was targeting Saint Lucia.”

While informants dying is common in this line of work, an informant dying right after providing intelligence is a serious matter.

Upon hearing the news, the Inquisition Office reviewed the reports submitted by the informant from the beginning. Piecing together the scattered puzzle pieces, they concluded that there was a high probability the intelligence was true.

I heard from Ibrahim the content of the final intelligence that the murdered informant had tried to convey to the Inquisition Office.

“The cultists want the Saint’s blood.”

“……”

“That was the last message left by the dead informant.”

Ibrahim swallowed his wine with a grave expression.

“The Inquisition Office requested cooperation from the Holy Knights. They asked us to monitor the cult group. They also added that if the group intended to harm Saint Lucia, the Papal Office would take all responsibility, so we should prevent it by any means necessary.”

“So what did you think, Ibrahim? Were the cultists really trying to threaten the Saint’s life?”

“Yes.”

It was a resolute answer. His tone was full of certainty, without even a hint of hesitation.

Ibrahim placed his interlocked hands at the corner of his lips and continued in a low voice.

“While monitoring their base, we detected signs that several cultists had illegally entered this country. Can you guess where?”

I answered without much thought.

“The refugee camp.”

“Correct. The very place Saint Lucia is scheduled to visit.”

There’s no need to investigate how a mere religious group figured out Lucia’s movements. The world’s media was leaking her itinerary in detail.

“Of course, Saint Lucia’s movements are classified information handled only within the Order and the Union. But we can’t fool the eyes of journalists. The cultists likely figured out her movements by watching the news.”

“Did you find their illegal entry route?”

Ibrahim nodded.

“They came through a broker. Disguised as refugees.”

“And the broker’s identity?”

The soldier said.

“Yunus Abdullah Mohamed.”

“……”

“The very person Jake was tailing.”

*

The deeply inhaled smoke disperses. The stimulating effect of the strong nicotine arrived with a mild headache.

“We don’t know exactly what the cultists are planning either. But whatever it is, it’s clearly a threat to Saint Lucia’s safety.”

I tapped the ash into the ashtray and brought the cigarette to my lips.

“Since they want blood, they’re probably aiming for assassination. It wouldn’t be the first time a clergy member of the Order has died in this land.”

“What do you want?”

“Help us catch the cultists.”

Ibrahim said.

“We’re already aware that the Abbas government is targeting the broker. Otherwise, Jake wouldn’t have been near Yunus. We’ll hand him over to you.”

He was saying we could take Sanya’s recruiter.

I understood the intention of the Order’s special forces unit.

“So you’ll hand over the broker in exchange for information.”

“That’s right.”

The Order would give Yunus to us, and we would provide the information we obtained to the Order. This was a kind of deal.

Such deals happen more often than you might think in the intelligence world.

The one proposing the deal is the host country’s intelligence agency. The counterpart is a friendly nation’s intelligence agency operating in their territory.

Usually, these deals are offered when unofficial operations are detected without notifying the host country. If the deal falls through, the counterintelligence agency steps in to expel the friendly nation’s intelligence agency.

Although foreign intelligence operations by intelligence agencies are considered serious diplomatic issues that violate the host country’s sovereignty, the activities of friendly nations’ intelligence agencies are often tacitly tolerated. Rather than friendly companies blushing over minor issues, they help by turning a blind eye in exchange for information.

I exhaled smoke and pondered Ibrahim’s proposal.

“I don’t understand… You’re tracking the cult group and were monitoring Yunus before us, but suddenly you’re proposing a deal.”

“……”

The question was why they didn’t handle it themselves and instead sought our help.

To this, Ibrahim showed a faint smile.

“We originally planned to deal with the broker ourselves, but Saint Lucia visited the camp earlier than expected.”

“Ah.”

“Time was pressing, so we had no other option.”

I nodded in understanding.

We continued our detailed discussion about the operation, leaning against the quiet bar. Ibrahim requested that we only provide information and not get involved in the warlord issue, while I asked for the sharing of data on Yunus held by the Inquisition Office and the Utlant Knights.

With that, the information exchange was complete.

“You go first.”

“I’ll see you later.”

After seeking agreement, Ibrahim left the bar first. Scanning his surroundings, he tightened his coat and melted into the darkness of the alley, while employees from the Royal Intelligence Service who had gotten out of a van began tailing him.

After finishing my cigarette, I wandered the streets and met up with Matt.

“What do you think, Matt?”

Matt, who had joined me as soon as I turned the corner of the building, quickened his pace and spoke.

“Seems like a good proposal. We’ll need Ms. Leoni’s approval though.”

“Let’s contact her.”

I submitted a report through a secure line. Leoni, who received the urgent report, positively evaluated the joint operation with the Order’s special forces unit.

After wandering through the city to check for any tails, Matt and I entered a quiet commercial building to talk.

“The cult group targeting the Saint is probably being tracked by the Order. It would be great if the director could get information sharing through official channels, but in case the Inquisition Office refuses, I’ll try to open an unofficial route.”

I decided to gather intelligence about the cult group through Hassan’s warlord information network and collaborators with the Inquisition Office.

Meanwhile, Matt would kidnap Yunus.

“Good. I’ll send team members to the camp at dawn to kidnap Yunus.”

“Please wrap it up as quietly as possible. If the peacekeeping forces catch wind of it, the whole operation will be ruined.”

“Don’t worry. By the way, what are we going to do about the cult group that infiltrated the camp?”

Matt stroked his patchy beard as he broached the subject.

“If the cultists targeting the Saint cross the border, they’ll be hard to find. I mean the real border, not just tribal boundaries.”

“I have a plan.”

Hassan’s warlord had planted informants in the Asen intelligence department. If the cultists who infiltrated the camp flee to another country, they will certainly use the nearest border.

Incidentally, the closest border to the refugee camp is in Asen warlord’s territory.

I planned to track the cult group through the Asen intelligence department.

“If they pass through Asen warlord’s territory, we can monitor the cult group’s movements. It would be difficult to track them if they enter Sanya warlord’s territory, but fortunately, the Sanya border is a five-day car ride away, which gives us time to pursue them.”

“That would be fortunate. But the real problem is something else.”

Matt spoke with a serious expression, lowering his voice.

“What if the cultists don’t cross the border but head straight to the Necropolis?”

Necropolis. At that name, I could only close my mouth.

Matt continued.

“The Necropolis is difficult to enter unless you’re a magician or shaman. To monitor that place, we definitely need to infiltrate an informant.”

“Do we have an informant there?”

“No.”

Matt shook his head.

“We used to have one, but not anymore. It’s such a messy neighborhood. How about you?”

“I don’t have one either.”

“Fantastic.”

Matt argued that since we couldn’t send team members to the Necropolis, we absolutely needed to find an informant. I couldn’t help but agree.

After all, the Necropolis is an area that can’t be entered unless you’re a magician or shaman. Of course, cultists or people with mystical abilities also come and go, but ordinary people like us get turned away at the entrance.

Matt began looking for informants in case the cultists fled to the Necropolis. He took out a secure phone and started contacting his acquaintances.

I folded my arms and smoked, pondering. Then suddenly a thought occurred to me, and I gestured to Matt who was on the phone.

“What is it?”

“I just had a good idea.”

“What is it?”

I looked around and met Matt’s gaze.

“We don’t have an informant operating in the Necropolis, but I know an informant who can enter there.”

“Who is that?”

*

The lodging I visited in the middle of the night was quiet.

I crossed the corridor dimly lit by moonlight in the desert where deep dusk had settled.

After walking past doors with numbers engraved on them for quite some time, I stopped in front of a certain room. The top floor of the massive eight-story lodging.

It was the room of a woman who had the best floor all to herself.

-Knock. Knock.

The neat knocking echoed through the corridor. I waited briefly in front of the door. As soon as the knocking ended, rustling sounds and the dragging of slippers could be heard from inside.

“Oh my. What brings you here?”

The owner of the room appeared through the half-open door. She seemed to have just been about to go to bed, as she was wearing soft pajamas.

The woman, with one hand on the doorknob and the other on the doorframe, gave a charming smile.

Purple hair that swayed gently with the slightest movement.

“Welcome, Officer.”

Francesca.

The alchemist from the Magic Tower greeted me with an attractive smile.