Ch.441Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

Despite having worked in the Middle East and Africa for a long time, I still haven’t adapted to the desert climate.

The bright sunshine and dry wind excitedly flutter my clothes as Charnoi, who had been leaning against the window, begins to complain.

“The sun is terribly hot… Truly a nymph-hating weather… At this rate, I might stick to the asphalt like melted ice cream…”

Suin’s eyes fill with exasperation as she looks at her friend. Her gaze seems to ask why he’s making such a fuss over something so trivial.

Of course, the faces of both the nymph wilting in the heat and Suin sitting in the back seat didn’t look much different. Both appeared to be one step away from death.

“The car is shaking too much…”

Caer, dressed in nomadic attire resembling a white dress, let out a deep sigh. Due to the sensitive nature of being a therianthrope, Caer was particularly vulnerable to motion sickness.

I turned the steering wheel and handed over some motion sickness pills. After swallowing the tablet without water, she seemed to regain some energy, as her tail, which had been hanging limply, began to sway gently.

The van had turned into a sauna under the scorching sun. I turned on the air conditioning to wash away the stifling heat, but the breeze wasn’t cool enough. While the passengers’ moods were plummeting in real-time, the only person maintaining composure was Francesca.

“Hmm~”

An endless desert and a parade of light brown scrub.

The magician, who had been humming a pleasant tune, turned her gaze away from the car window and unfolded a map.

“If we keep going straight like this, we should arrive by evening. Is there any way we could go faster, Officer?”

“How much faster can we go after already taking a warp gate?”

The cult members who had stolen Lucia’s blood were far ahead of us.

With time already lost, we couldn’t afford to be leisurely, so we crossed over to a neighboring country via warp gate and began tracking them. The vehicle, by the way, was provided by a branch of the Royal Intelligence Agency.

After calculating the distance and travel time, Francesca put her feet up on the glove compartment. Thanks to her excellent proportions, even casually resting her legs created a picturesque scene.

Francesca, who had claimed the passenger seat, glanced over at me.

She had closed her eyelids momentarily as if contemplating something, but soon emerged from her thoughts and pulled up the corners of her mouth.

“By the way, Officer.”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you call me ‘Master’? You’re currently my gano, after all.”

“……”

I silently stepped on the accelerator, and from the passenger seat came the sound of soft chuckling.

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

The cult members had stolen Lucia’s blood.

With the help of a warlord broker, they infiltrated the refugee camp, broke the medical room window, opened the refrigerator to take the blood packs, and then escaped across the border.

Their final destination: Necropolis.

That’s precisely our destination as well.

“Our objective is to recover what the cult members stole.”

As we crossed the desert, I explained the plan to the three people.

“The mission objective is to recover Lucia’s blood that was taken by the cult. The moment we retrieve every last drop of blood they took, this operation will be a complete success.”

The key is to recover the item without missing a single drop.

“We won’t be handling the blood recovery ourselves. Our job is to infiltrate Necropolis, locate the cult’s base, and just confirm whether the blood is there or not.”

Purple eyes look at me. Francesca turns her head and asks a question.

“Are there separate people in charge of recovery?”

“Yes. The Order will take care of it.”

While Lucia is a colleague of mine and Francesca, she is fundamentally a cleric of the Order. That was true before the oracle came down, and it remains true after joining our group.

Therefore, it was decided that the Order would take on the mission of directly recovering the blood. The unit being deployed is the Utland Knights.

This was something I had agreed upon with Ibrahim before departing. I would provide the information, and Ibrahim would lead the knights to raid the cult members.

After hearing the explanation, she nodded calmly.

“The Templar Knights… A name I’ve heard in my ancestor’s journals.”

“They were the knights responsible for the middle to late stages of the Independence War. As a Grand Magician, you probably faced them directly.”

The news that the Templar Knights were mobilizing didn’t particularly stir me, but Francesca’s perspective seemed different. Her eyes changed the moment she heard the name of the Templar Knights, who had once driven the Magic Tower to the brink.

However, since the Templar Knights were currently cooperating with us, Francesca didn’t particularly guard against them.

“If the Templar Knights are handling the recovery, there’s no need to worry… But it would be good to have insurance. I’ll look into ways to steal Saint Lucia’s blood that the cult took.”

“Steal it? Would that be possible?”

Francesca gave me a charming smile in response to my suspicious expression.

“Have you forgotten who I am?”

I’ve already experienced Francesca’s skills, wisdom, and animal instincts several times in the north.

Her help was significant in discovering that there were black magicians in league with demons among the Magic Tower delegation. She even purged the ringleaders with her own hands.

She was trustworthy in many ways. I nodded and replied.

“A good plan is always welcome.”

The car that had traversed the wasteland finally arrived at the city. We passed through many checkpoints along various roads, but the checkpoint at the entrance to the city had a particularly unique aspect.

The small outpost occupying the main road was guarded by armed security.

From this perspective alone, it wouldn’t seem much different from a government checkpoint or a warlord’s inspection post, but the guard who emerged from the outpost wasn’t human—it was an orc.

Tsk! The orc exhaled a threatening breath between its tusks and aimed its rifle at our car.

“Turn back! This is no place for you!”

There was no request to show identification or a pass. The orc who stopped us simply ordered us to turn the car around without explanation.

A one-sided notification, a gun barrel that looked ready to spit fire. A timid person might have hastily reversed, but I wasn’t fazed at all.

Francesca got out of the car and approached the orc guard, showing him something. It was a token that only those permitted to enter could possess.

“Hmm…”

After examining the token from various angles, the orc looked at Francesca with narrowed eyes.

“Are you a magician?”

“Yes.”

“No cape, no robe—how can I believe you?”

In response to the guard’s demand to prove her identity, Francesca rolled up her sleeve.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

As the incantation-like sentence continued, a gear placed on her palm began to rotate clockwise and float.

It was a golem’s core.

-…Woong.

The gear, emitting a mysterious light, draws in surrounding objects to form a body.

First the chest, then the abdomen.

As the rotation gained speed, gravel writhed to form massive arms, and soon after, as two legs took shape, a golem rose up in the desert.

-Giiing…

As the massive figure rose with a strange sound, the orc’s expression changed. Gone was the threatening posture with the gun barrel; the guard took a step back and bowed respectfully to Francesca.

“I apologize, Magician. Please forgive me for doubting a seeker of truth.”

In response to the orc’s sincere apology, Francesca waved her hand dismissively with a fresh smile, saying it was fine.

After verifying the token and identity, the orcs quickly cleared the obstacles and opened the gate.

As the gear rotated counterclockwise, the golem’s form dispersed, and Francesca, retrieving the golem’s core, returned to the car.

It was around then that the orc who had apologized for the earlier threat approached. Walking to the driver’s seat, the guard requested that we get out of the vehicle, explaining that from here on, we would need to proceed on foot.

“…What should we do?”

Caer, who was sitting in the back seat, asked.

“Let’s get out for now. Just grab our equipment.”

Caer and Charnoi each gathered their belongings and got out. I followed the guard into the city along with Francesca.

Guided by the guard, we arrived at a two-story house with a small garden. It was a modest house with sand-colored bricks and a blue roof.

“Go down,” the orc guard said, pointing to the basement. I asked him a question.

“Is this the end of your guidance?”

“Yes. We can only come this far.”

After unlocking the door with a key, the orc bowed respectfully once more and went back up to the surface.

As the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs faded away into a distant point, we looked at each other in front of the basement door.

“……”

I looked at Francesca. Noticing my gaze, she silently nodded, and with her response, I pushed the door open forcefully and stepped inside.

And then.

*

Look up, and there’s land in the sky.

The land wasn’t the ground.

As if comforting the souls of free beings wandering the vast wasteland, the celestial galaxy descends.

When the crystals densely embedded along gentle curves sparkle, the sea formed by the gathering of rivers and valley waters reveals its form in the faint darkness.

It was beautiful. The city immersed in darkness was strangely beautiful.

As the whitish smoke that had gathered like fog faded away like a midsummer night’s dream, starlight descended upon the city with the ground as its ceiling.

The train entering and exiting the massive tree reminds one of the ancient dwarven cities lost in the sands of history, and the houses standing shoulder to shoulder possess an old-fashioned charm as if torn from ancient and medieval cities.

There’s no sound of birds chirping with joy, no sunshine that gently lifts the curtain to tickle the skin, but along the ceiling of gentle curves flows a brilliant cluster of stars. Flying carpets and brooms navigate this sea of stars, captured in my eyes.

A more beautiful scene than cities bearing the scars of war, more captivating than civilizations built on the foundation of brilliant science and magic.

The underground city, seemingly preserved in eternal time, possesses a charm that’s hard to look away from.

“……”

Just as I was completely captivated by the beautiful scenery, a fragrant scent tickled my nose.

Turning my head, I see the crystal Milky Way flowing along the gentle curves of the ceiling.

A city that preserves its antiquity intact.

Against the backdrop of a city by magicians, for magicians, of magicians.

“Welcome, Officer.”

Francesca, with a captivating smile, greets me.

“To Necropolis.”

*

The Harbor of the Dead Whale, commonly known as Necropolis.

The city of magicians was located beneath an unnamed small city in the northwestern part of the Mauritani continent.

“…So the nickname ‘Magic Tower of the Shadows’ wasn’t an exaggeration.”

I couldn’t help but mutter to myself as I looked around.

Necropolis was a more developed city than I had imagined. It was hard to believe that such a massive city existed underground.

I wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by the city’s landscape. Caer and Charnoi, dressed in traditional attire with luggage bags, kept exclaiming in amazement as they explored the city.

Their reactions seemed quite amusing. A slight smile appeared on Francesca’s lips.

“Sightseeing is fine, but aren’t you looking around too much like a country bumpkin?”

“Was I doing that?”

“Yes. Anyone would think you just came from the countryside.”

Francesca, who had draped a cape she brought from the car over her shoulders, surveyed the city with a gaze that conveyed monotonous boredom.

“Hmm…”

With her arms gently folded, she tilted her head as she looked at the houses that seemed to have flown in from ancient and medieval times, transcending time.

“The exterior is quite impressive. At this level, it wouldn’t be inferior even compared to the central district of the Magic Tower, which boasts the longest history.”

I’m familiar with the central district of the Magic Tower.

When the Grand Magicians painstakingly created the Magic Tower, they crafted a core that would become the center of the tower.

The reason the Magic Tower floats in the sky against gravity, and the protective barrier that has been maintained for over a hundred years, is all because the core is alive.

After completing the core, the Grand Magicians built the city around it. As the Magic Tower grew, Oracle expanded the space using the empty spaces above and below and reorganized the districts, but never touched the central area where the core existed.

Because it was a legacy left by the great ancestors.

That’s the central district Francesca mentioned.

Francesca observed Necropolis and compared it to the Magic Tower. While it seemed like an excellent city to us who were unfamiliar with magic, her thoughts, as someone proficient in magic, seemed a bit different.

With her arms folded, she continued her tour and didn’t hesitate to criticize the city.

“The exiles tried hard. Did they miss the Magic Tower that much?”

“Exiles…?”

Charnoi, who had been fiddling with weeds by the roadside, tilted his head in confusion.

“What is that…?”

“Ah, I see you don’t know about the exiles.”

With a gentle smile, Francesca began her explanation.

“Exiles refer to magicians who have been banished from the Magic Tower. They are criminals who have violated the precepts.”

The war between the Magic Tower and the Order for independence brought about many changes.

In the era before the Magic Tower, often referred to as the Age of Barbarism, conflicts between magicians were frequent.

Magicians who strived to reach the truth would bare their teeth of greed at the slightest benefit, and their sticky desires often led to violence.

Stealing a colleague’s research results, extorting magical tools, and even kidnapping ordinary people for experiments were common occurrences.

Once started, the cycle of violence didn’t stop despite individual efforts.

Magicians began personal vendettas to avenge their masters or to settle the grudges of disciples who withered away before they could bloom. This posed a crisis for the Magic Tower, which was gathering strength to counter the Order’s inquisition.

Conscious of the tragedy of fratricide and the gaze of the international community, the Grand Magicians convened a meeting. And from that meeting, the rules for magicians were born.

That’s the precept.

It’s the law of the magical society that ended the Age of Barbarism.

Continuing her explanation, Francesca spoke in a calm voice.

“While the Magic Tower has criminal and civil laws, the precepts take precedence over any existing laws. Like a nation’s constitution or a religion’s canon.”

“Then violating the precepts means…”

“Yes. It means committing a sin that can’t be washed away by any means.”

In other words, Necropolis, established by exiles, is essentially a den of criminals who were banished from the Magic Tower for violating the precepts.

Charnoi was terrified by the unexpected identity of the city. Francesca gave a reassuring smile to the nymph, who was rolling his eyes with more anxiety than ever.

“While it’s true that Necropolis was founded by magicians banished from the Magic Tower and the Ivory Tower, and many exiles live here, there’s no need to worry. Ordinary people live here too.”

Of course, most of those “ordinary people” are mercenaries, criminals, traffickers, and cult members, but anyway.

Charnoi seemed to have lost his worries at Francesca’s words, as he returned to his bright demeanor.

“That’s reassuring…! So who are we meeting today…?”

“An acquaintance of mine. Well, someone I met briefly in passing. A person who will ensure our safety during our stay in Necropolis.”

And someone we can trust.

“Shall we go then?”

With a smile, Francesca began guiding us deeper into Necropolis.

I picked up my bag and followed her, while Caer and Charnoi followed, keeping an eye on the surroundings.

Of course, we didn’t just walk nicely.

“Here, hold this.”

As we were walking forward, a luggage bag unexpectedly landed in my arms. It was Francesca’s luggage.

When I asked why she was giving it to me, she promptly replied.

“You’re my gano right now, Officer. Is it strange for a servant to carry his master’s luggage?”

“……”

“Carry it. Come on.”

I glared at Francesca. I thought it was quite a fierce look, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

Instead, Francesca looked at me with a deep smile.

“Don’t you like playing the role of my servant? Your gaze is truly irreverent.”

“…We’ll see about that later.”

In the end, I reluctantly carried the luggage bag.

A pack mule, a mercenary, an assistant, and a magician. A strange combination of people entered the city of exiles.

I struggled up the annoying stairs while Francesca moved lightly, starting to enjoy the scenery. She really looks like someone on a vacation.

“The internal collaborator is currently in Necropolis. We made contact just before departing yesterday, so they should still be here.”

According to Francesca, the internal collaborator lives here.

We planned to track the cult members who had infiltrated Necropolis by recruiting a local.

“But how do you plan to find the cult members’ location?”

Francesca, who was walking ahead, asked, and I took out a small magical device from my bag and waved it.

“I’ll find them with this.”

“What is that? It feels like it has magical power, so it must be a magical device.”

“It’s a tracker.”

The cult members who blended into the camp paid a separate fee from the illegal immigration cost and received several supplies from Sanya.

A month’s worth of emergency food, water, transportation tickets, first aid supplies, and so on.

Among them was a magical device with a spell for long-term blood storage.

“The cult members purchased blood transport equipment, but it seems the sellers didn’t trust them and played a trick. I plan to track their location with this.”

“I’m not sure how long the device’s battery will last, but it’s not a bad plan. But what’s the detection range? Small magical devices tend to have poor performance unless they’re high-end products or military-grade.”

“Well, about 50 meters?”

The Magic Tower intellectual was shocked by the poor performance of the low-grade magical device.

“What kind of toy is this? 50 meters is ridiculously short.”

“That’s how civilian magical devices are.”

Anyway, the detection range doesn’t matter. We still have other ways to find them.

Although aerial reconnaissance is impossible due to the nature of the underground city, just as disassembly is the reverse of assembly, there’s always a way.

With Francesca in the lead, we silently moved forward.

The city was quite large for an underground settlement, so it took some time.

We arrived at our destination just as Charnoi, who was carrying a bag, screamed, “My shoulder is about to dislocate…!”

“We’ve arrived.”

Francesca, lifting the front of her cape with her finger, spoke.

I looked up at the building.

“…This is it?”

The building where the guide supposedly lived was a shabby house situated in the middle of a hill. The building, perched on a steep slope, looked like it would collapse if a strong wind blew.

Looking around, all the surrounding buildings were in the same condition. This must be the slum area of Necropolis.

Not all magicians live well, I guess. How do people live in such places?

It had been a long time since I had thoughts like “People live in places like this?” The favelas I saw in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, came to mind. Anyway, it’s a scene reminiscent of those slums.

After putting down the bag with difficulty, I placed my hands on my waist and drank water, while Francesca knocked on the door, avoiding the garbage strewn across the street.

“Are you there?”

There was no response.

“I wonder if they went out. I don’t sense any presence.”

“Is there no way to contact them?”

Caer, who was wetting her hair with a water bottle, looked up.

“……”

Twitch, twitch.

The cat ears trapped in the keffiyeh moved rapidly, and the therianthrope, who hadn’t even wiped away the dripping water, swiftly lunged.

-KWANG!

An explosion erupted.

It wasn’t a big explosion. It was just loud without any shockwave.

I threw down my luggage, retreated from the house, and drew my pistol. That’s when it happened.

BANG! The front door slammed into the wall with a loud noise.

“Whew! That was close!”

A person appeared beyond the wide-open door.

Judging by the attire, it was a magician.

The caped magician coughed, “Cough, cough!”

The sole of the shoe was clearly visible, suggesting the door had been kicked open, and in the left hand was a reagent bottle with fluorescent liquid dripping from its broken base.

“Sorry, sorry. I was in the middle of an experiment when you suddenly came… Cough! Ugh… I’m dying.”

The magician apologized while flapping hands to disperse the smoke. The apology was directed at Francesca, who was standing at the front.

After dusting off her clothes, she nodded slightly.

“No need to apologize. No one was hurt. I’m sorry for interrupting your concentration.”

“Ugh…”

The magician waved dismissively, saying not to worry about it.

The broken flask went into a pile of garbage near the door. After clearing away the flask, the magician brushed back disheveled hair and the cigarette in the right hand—

Wait a minute.

That’s marijuana, isn’t it?

The foul odor detectable even from a distance is definitely the smell of marijuana. Looking closely, it was indeed cannabis.

Sssup-

The magician held the marijuana between the index finger and thumb and took a deep drag. Then, exhaling the intense smoke, the magician swayed back and forth, or rather, staggered.

The magician, high on drugs in broad daylight, raised an arm with wide eyes.

“Welcome, friends! Welcome to Necropolis!”

“……”

“……”

“……”

Whether intoxicated with excitement or drugs, or perhaps both.

The intelligence officers, witnessing the magician staggering back and forth as if about to collapse, could only look into each other’s eyes without saying a word.

Day 1 of infiltrating Necropolis.

That’s how our meeting with the internal collaborator, a drug-addicted magician, began.