Ch.471Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

“If the purpose of these Al-Khair aligns with what I think, a great calamity will surely befall the world. So we must stop them.”

“That sounds nice, but…”

Veronica tilted her head slightly and let her words trail off.

“Can you, who has awakened after 800 years, really face cultists you’ve never heard of before?”

“Of course, it would be impossible alone. But together, nothing is impossible.”

“Together?”

I glanced at Veronica and then looked at the knight.

“Surely you don’t mean us?”

I absolutely hate being dragged into dangerous situations, whatever they might be. Especially if the “evil” the knight mentioned is something similar to the demon we encountered in the northern part of the Kien Empire.

Personally, I wanted to avoid facing such an enemy again.

Seeing my reluctance, the knight shook his head as if to say there was no need to worry.

“I have no intention of involving you. Preventing evil from entering the world is my duty. You may wait here with peace of mind. Of course, if you wish to risk danger and help prevent evil from taking root, I won’t stop you.”

“Let’s hear him out first, Major. It seems you have some plan in mind.”

“Let’s do that.”

Veronica asked the knight what plan he had. After a brief moment of silence, the knight began explaining while checking his gauntlet.

“First, I need to find someone who can help. Someone who can tell me what has happened in the world while I was asleep. Through them, I must locate where evil lurks.”

I wondered if there was even anyone who could help a knight who had been asleep for 800 years.

Fortunately, the knight seemed to know who his collaborator would be. He said that after meeting with this collaborator, he would uncover Al-Khair’s plans and root out the evil.

“Hmm…”

Veronica, listening to this, tapped her lips thoughtfully.

“Well, it’s not a bad plan. But do you have a way to contact this collaborator? You’re currently trapped here, aren’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

The knight examined his armor, touching every part as if checking it. His gauntlets, boots, breastplate, and finally his helmet—his manner conveyed a strange determination.

Rising to his feet, the knight spoke in a solemn voice.

“There is no place that can contain me.”

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

The beautiful wave patterns created by the wind look like a painting.

Sharp sand dunes.

From the shade at the bottom of a gently sloping hill, backed by a crescent-shaped peak, comes the sound of air being cut.

“You’re putting too much tension in your shoulders. Excessive force makes your muscles heavy and stiff.”

A fist cuts through the air. The punch that barely grazed the side of her head changes trajectory toward the ribs.

Having dodged the hook, the fist once again hits nothing but empty air. But it’s too early to give up. She clenches her hand and counterattacks firmly.

Fists thrown in rapid succession.

As the barrage of punches grazes golden hair, Lucia dodges the attacks with ease.

“You’re fast.”

She praised while raising her leg to guard against a low kick. Though her words were transparent with no hidden intent, Camilla felt differently.

She had definitely kicked, but it felt like kicking a piece of metal. The tingling pain running up her shin made Camilla unconsciously grimace.

“Ugh…”

Despite attacking with all her might, she hadn’t landed a single effective hit. Every attack Camilla launched, Lucia defended against naturally.

And that wasn’t all.

Look at that face. Despite the continuous exchange of attacks, not even a drop of sweat had formed on her serene face.

“Are you alright?”

Hearing the faint groan, Lucia asked with evident concern. Camilla shook her head, said she was fine, and quickly resumed her stance.

She steadied her breathing and charged forward with all her might. Flames flickered over the footprints left in the sand, and her swinging fist cut through the air fiercely. Lucia raised her arm to block the hook and then deflected the straight punch.

The exchange of attacks and defenses continued naturally.

The perfect combat seemed as if they had rehearsed it beforehand. Yet the fierce attacks and relentless defenses were no different from the bloody combat of gladiators fighting naked in arenas built by Romans.

The sound of air being cut continued in succession, and the occasional impact sounds spread across the crescent-shaped sand.

As Camilla pressed forward with fierce attacks, Lucia lightly threw a punch to create distance.

“It’s good to pressure your opponent with speed, but you shouldn’t focus too much on attacking. If you neglect defense, you’ll inevitably leave openings for your opponent.”

Like this, you see.

Another hand naturally overlaps the extended fist. Lucia, who avoided the attack by lightly stepping on the sand, had caught Camilla’s fist and wrist.

Having caught the opponent’s punch with one hand, she twisted the wrist as if leveraging it. It looked like an adult twisting the arm of a fragile child.

As the wrist rotated, the arm began to turn, and naturally, the balance of the upper body collapsed. Lucia twisted the captured fist strongly and then began to pull.

Like a star being drawn into a black hole by gravity, Camilla felt her body being pulled toward Lucia. Her upper body was dragged without resistance, and waiting at the destination was Lucia’s fist.

The fist that approached right up to her face filled her vision. Camilla, falling helplessly, ignored the sensation of her twisted wrist and rolled to the side.

Seeing this, Lucia hurriedly tried to attack, when Camilla’s body suddenly became engulfed in flames.

-Whoosh!

The burning body soon turned into sparks.

Scattered sparks filled the vision. As Lucia raised her arms to protect her sight, a heavy sensation suddenly wrapped around her waist.

“Ha-ha!”

Camilla, who appeared from within the flames, laughed loudly.

Her captured arm was now free, and her legs were wrapped around Lucia’s waist. She had somehow managed to cling to Lucia’s waist. With her legs firmly crossed and secured in a somewhat indecent position.

But her expression was nothing but bright.

Having approached Lucia in the blink of an eye, Camilla clenched her fist with a big smile. She had escaped from a critical crisis and seized an opportunity to counterattack.

Therefore, Camilla’s face, on the verge of victory, was shining brighter than ever.

“I’ve won!”

A strong hand firmly grasped her waist.

Lucia, who had caught Camilla’s waist, spread her legs wide, then bent her waist like a bow and flipped her over.

Camilla, who was about to swing her clenched fist, grabbed Lucia’s shoulder with a dumbfounded cry, but it was of no use.

“Ugh!”

Her luscious hair drew an elegant crescent curve, and the reddish sand welcomed Camilla.

Having been planted headfirst, she went limp, perhaps from losing consciousness.

“I was surprised by your sudden attack. Are you alright… oh.”

After planting her due to the surprise attack, Lucia belatedly came to her senses and turned her head to check on her, when she flinched.

“You two are having quite an intense sparring session. Who won—”

Francesca, who had been focused on her work a short distance away, paused.

“…”

Camilla’s buttocks, buried in the sand pit, twitched.

After a moment of suffocating silence.

“Holy Warrior!”

“Saint!”

The screams of the cleric and mage, who were tumbling down the sand dune, cut across the red desert.

*

Despite the minor accident, the situation calmed down quickly.

Camilla, who was pulled out of the sand pit, soon regained consciousness.

People who had been anxious, thinking they had witnessed the scene of an unprecedented violent crime where a saint killed a warrior (not true), finally breathed a sigh of relief when they saw her consuming food after regaining consciousness.

In the middle of the desert, under the escort of clerics from the Order and mages from the Tower.

Slurp! Camilla made a sad face while drinking her beverage.

“I can still feel grains in my mouth…”

“I-I’m so sorry.”

Lucia was fidgeting, not knowing what to do because she felt so guilty.

Seeing her like this, Camilla waved her hand, saying it was fine.

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen during sparring.”

“But still…”

“Besides, I was the one who asked for the sparring match, wasn’t I?”

She meant it wasn’t Lucia’s fault.

Camilla, who shifted the blame to herself in a gentle tone, sucked up the remaining drink.

“No, it’s my fault for being inadequately prepared. You requested the sparring so suddenly… But why did you ask me for a match?”

“Oh, just… I thought I needed practice.”

Camilla vaguely trailed off, avoiding a direct answer. It was a bit embarrassing to admit that she had asked for practice because she was so humiliated by her defeat in close combat.

Slurp! The sweet drink comes up through the straw.

Although the sensation of sand grains being chewed was bothersome, the sweetness, so intense it made her tongue tingle, covered up the discomfort.

At that moment, a concerned voice penetrated her ear. Turning her head, she caught sight of Francesca’s profile.

“You should have been more careful. What if you had been seriously injured?”

Though her tone seemed gruff, her intentions weren’t bad.

Camilla plopped down on the carpet. With the Arabic carpet and soft sand spread across the desert, it felt like being on vacation.

“Oh my. Are you worried about me now?”

“Consider it advice, if you would.”

“I’ll take it to heart! By the way, what are you working on?”

Camilla abruptly asked. Francesca was deeply immersed in something against the backdrop of the vast red desert.

She was sitting in front of a metal workbench. With no trace of wood, the workbench was stark, but the bubbling, colorful liquids and various materials of indeterminate purpose exuded a mysterious charm.

“Alchemy,” said Francesca, handling tools at the workbench. Simultaneously, Camilla’s head tilted slightly to the side.

“Alchemy? It seems quite different from the alchemy I know.”

When thinking of alchemy, one typically imagines scenes of ingredients being thrown into cauldrons and boiled vigorously.

That’s generally how alchemy was portrayed in movies, novels, comics, and dramas. But contrary to Camilla’s thoughts, the alchemy here seemed to have some peculiarities.

“While potions are symbolic of alchemy, potion-making isn’t the only aspect of alchemy.”

Francesca picked up a piece of metal and gazed at Camilla.

“The essence of alchemy is transformation and refinement. Ancient alchemists aimed to refine metals into precious metals.”

“Ah, I know about that. Most attempts were to turn base metals into gold, right?”

“Yes. Most failed, though.”

The attempts of ancient alchemists to turn iron into gold were unsuccessful, but their essence and efforts were passed down to later alchemists.

The essence of alchemy is transformation and refinement—increasing the purity of compounds and transforming them into different substances.

This is why alchemy is credited with laying the foundation for modern chemistry and is also the core concept that permeates modern alchemy.

“As long as you can extract, mix, and transform substances, that’s alchemy. Whether it’s liquid or metal doesn’t matter.”

Francesca muttered as she mixed metals.

Small gears arranged in a circle around a large gear, elongated iron needles resembling stakes or large nails, large plates that seemed to be thinly hammered steel, objects of unfamiliar forms, and so on.

The items on the workbench had different shapes, but they all shared the common feature of having strange patterns engraved on them.

Curious about what she was making, Camilla watched Francesca work for a while, but having no knowledge of alchemy, she had no way to satisfy her curiosity. To avoid disturbing her as she focused on her work, Camilla carefully moved away.

“Now, we’ve rested enough. Shall we train again?”

Whoosh! Flames rise along her index finger, stretching toward the blue sky. Having ignited the flame, Camilla concentrated on gradually reducing its size.

The swirling flames gradually diminished, converging into a single point.

The flames, rotating repeatedly and condensing, formed a small sphere, and Camilla began training to maintain the flame. Lucia, who had been standing a short distance away, approached Camilla.

“Are you practicing magic?”

“Ah, yes!”

“It’s a magic I’ve never seen before.”

Lucia looked with curious eyes at the tiny flame sphere formed at the fingertip.

Come to think of it, she had never shown this magic to Lucia. The only person who had properly seen it was Frederick.

Seeing Lucia staring intently at the magic, Camilla answered with a shy smile.

“It’s magic I learned from the professor—I mean, the Grand Duke. More precisely, I created it and asked him for feedback.”

“Creating magic independently? That’s quite an achievement. I’m envious.”

“Oh, please! No need to flatter me! I still have a lot to learn.”

The blue flame she had created when facing the witch hunter. She was trying to recreate it but was frequently failing.

Following the Grand Duke’s advice that magic manifestation uses intense emotions as fuel, she had been trying to use magic in an emotionally charged state, but the blue flame refused to appear as if it were a lie.

As Camilla secretly sighed inwardly, Lucia, as if reading her disappointment, gently shook her head.

“I’m not just saying that. Whether it’s magic, scholarship, or divinity, creating something is a remarkable feat.”

Lucia gazed with admiration at the newly born, original magic. She meant that it was meaningful in itself.

Though it was the same gaze as usual, Camilla felt something strange in that look.

Disrupting the swirling flame for a moment, she stared at Lucia.

“Lucia, do you have something you want to say?”

“Pardon?”

“No, you’ve had this look in your eyes like you want to ask something…”

At first, she tried to deny it out of surprise.

But after persistent questioning, Lucia finally surrendered.

“…You noticed, I see.”

Sighing softly so that others couldn’t hear, she began to reveal her thoughts.

“Actually, a few days ago, I received a report from the Vatican about a problem. It mentioned that there had been a major incident at a facility in the Mauritania continent.”

The moment “incident” and “facility” were mentioned, Camilla could easily recall the problem that had occurred a few days ago.

A vampire had turned the facility into chaos, and the Order’s army had entered to find the missing Veronica. Though she didn’t fully understand the situation, she vaguely remembered hearing someone say “report to Saint Lucia” in passing.

Perhaps that’s when the report was submitted? As Camilla’s speculation continued, Lucia’s explanation followed.

“It was a fragmentary report stating that something dangerous that had been sealed had escaped and disrupted the facility. It also mentioned that there were several missing persons. But I didn’t hear any other details.”

“You mean you don’t know any other details?”

Lucia nodded silently.

“Due to limited authority, I could only access restricted information. Since Saint Veronica, who has been given full authority by His Holiness the Pope, is here…”

“Ah, I see.”

The story was that since the Pope’s plenipotentiary was present, proper information wasn’t relayed to Lucia, whose authority was weaker. Of course, that’s a relative standard.

“I couldn’t make heads or tails of what had happened. Moreover, both of you… seem to have undergone a change of heart.”

Lucia’s gaze swept over Camilla and Francesca. As Camilla, who was practicing magic, glanced toward Francesca, she saw the back of her, sitting at the workbench and deeply focused.

“Hmm…”

Having roughly understood the situation, Camilla asked what she was curious about. Lucia requested to be told about what had happened there.

Since she had already received reports that the two had been at the scene, no further conversation was necessary.

“I don’t know the details either, but… I understand that something from a coffin came out and attacked people. The Templar Knights and many others tried their best to prevent the escape, but due to the overwhelming difference in power, they had to retreat.”

Camilla answered to the best of her knowledge.

However, there was one thing.

She concealed information about the knight.

More precisely, she had been asked to do so. The request came from Frederick and Veronica. The saint and the minister had requested that while they could testify about what happened at the facility, they should refrain from testifying about the knight. Saying they wouldn’t report it yet either.

Though she didn’t know the reason, even to Camilla, the knight they had encountered that day had many suspicious aspects. Not quite a vampire. Not quite a demon.

Usually, such things shouldn’t be hastily concluded or carelessly spoken about.

Coincidentally, Francesca had similar thoughts, so the two had agreed to deny any knowledge if questions about the knight’s identity arose.

“A coffin, you say?”

“I remember it was a cedar coffin.”

“Was it perhaps a corpse? If you don’t know what an undead is, I can explain.”

“Not particularly? It didn’t look like an undead.”

“Were there any other peculiarities?”

“Hmm… I remember that the seals and barriers set up to prevent escape were ineffective, and the ammunition provided by the Order didn’t work either. They said it was blessed ammunition. Oh, and holy water was also ineffective.”

After listening to the lengthy explanation, Lucia rubbed her chin with a dubious expression.

“…Strange indeed.”

A few more questions followed, but no satisfactory answers emerged.

Lucia merely rubbed her chin, seemingly lost in thought, and Camilla immersed herself in practice again, saying to let her know if there were more questions.

Despite being gathered in one place, no personal conversations took place. Camilla was racking her brain to create blue flames, Francesca was sitting at the workbench mixing materials, and Lucia was reading a report detailing the incident at the facility.

While compressing the embers, a bell began to ring in her pocket. After extinguishing the flame, Camilla took out her mobile phone.

“Yes, Frederick. It’s me. Where are you now?”

At that moment.

A cleric on standby nearby hurriedly approached Lucia.

“Saint. I deeply apologize for disturbing your rest, but there’s an urgent matter to report.”

“Speak, brother.”

“Currently, Saint Veronica and Minister Frederick Nostrum are reported missing.”

“Huh…?”

Camilla, who was on the phone, turned to look at the cleric with a dumbfounded expression.

*

People have preferences, and everyone has experiences that make them uncomfortable.

They say you need guts to make a living as a spy, but not all intelligence officers live with such courage. We’re human too; we can’t live without fear all the time.

Personally, I dislike water. More specifically, diving. I absolutely hate underwater operations.

This is because I nearly died during naval infiltration training with the Navy (probably UDT, from my memory) during my intelligence command training.

The instructor stepped on my head as I tried to surface, saying a spy shouldn’t fail at a mere 50-meter dive, and I once fainted underwater during infiltration and nearly crossed the Jordan River, so I can’t help but shudder at the thought of water.

Still, I enjoyed the airborne training that others were terrified of; I think I adapted quite well for a rookie who had never jumped from ROTC.

Perhaps I was better suited for the Air Force rather than the Army? One thing’s for sure: the Navy was definitely not my path.

Yes, I’m a guy who hates diving but loves airborne operations.

At least until about 10 minutes ago.

“Uweeeeek!”

As I vomited into a sand pit, I heard nonsensical words.

“What kind of man throws up over something like that…”

“I’ve been, falling, for 20 minutes- urp,”

“Oh my goodness…”

Veronica frowned and turned away, unable to bear the sight. Despite her pretense of being unaffected, her complexion was pale blue.

Having fallen continuously for 20 minutes, we silently vomited. We vomited for a long time.

Neither sky nor space. The sensation of falling endlessly in an unknown space was indescribably unpleasant.

Damn it.

“How long… were we there…?”

“About 2 minutes… No. Just over 1 minute.”

Veronica muttered weakly after checking her watch. I collapsed onto the sand and looked up at the clear sky.

The desert of the Mauritania continent under the blazing sun. When I came to my senses, I found myself surrounded by sand and hills.

As I lay on the sand, unable to gauge my location and weakly staring at the sky, a shadow fell over my face as someone appeared. It was the knight.

“Are you alright?”

“Does this look alright to you…?”

Magic or divinity.

The knight had escaped from the facility using some unknown sorcery. And as a bonus, he had brought us along, almost like kidnapping.

“It’s natural for the flow of time to differ during spatial movement, so don’t mind it. Also, the dizziness and nausea you’re feeling. It will soon pass as you rest, so there’s no need to worry.”

“…Why are you only telling us this now?”

Veronica, who was dry heaving while brushing her hair behind her ear, looked at the knight. With a slightly resentful gaze.

Perhaps flustered by the saint’s reproachful look, the knight hesitated for a moment.

“…I forgot.”

“…”

“It’s been too long since I carried people. I forgot to warn you in advance.”

Is this really an angel?

I looked at him as if thinking, “What kind of idiot is this?” and Veronica also glared at him as if she had seen a complete lunatic. In response, the knight quite shamelessly turned his helmet to avoid our piercing gazes.

To think this is an angel. It’s embarrassing to show to the world.

While Veronica and I groaned like patients on the verge of death, the knight told us to rest for a while and then turned to leave.

“Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

“Where are you going…?”

“I need to find someone. Those who have guarded the cedar coffin for generations while I slept. Shamir.”

He meant he was going to find the Akande.

Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I addressed the knight.

“Is Akande the collaborator you mentioned?”

“Half right.”

“What does that mean?”

“There isn’t just one collaborator, is there?”

It meant there were multiple collaborators.

The knight raised his gauntlet and held up his fingers.

“Do you remember the priest who sent you the letter?”

“…The High Priest?”

“That’s what they call him these days, I suppose. Anyway, including Shamir and the priest, I have many people to seek help from. Including my comrades, of course.”

“By comrades, do you mean… angels?”

Veronica, with a pale face, suddenly came to her senses.

“Are you saying there are more angels?”

“Yes. There are more comrades who have come to this land with me.”

The knight said. It was a confident voice without a trace of falsehood.

Perhaps sensing this vaguely despite the chaotic situation, Veronica stared blankly at the knight.

“Multiple angels…”

“Most will be asleep. As I was. But there must be comrades who are still awake. I will find them, awaken my sleeping comrades, and fight against the forces of evil.”

For that, he first needed to find his collaborator. That was the knight’s claim.

“Rest here. I’ll be back soon.”

As smoke enveloped the plate armor, the knight’s form dissolved into thin air. It happened in the blink of an eye.

Veronica stared blankly at the spot where the knight had been standing, as if he had never been there in the first place, and I blurted out to her.

“Veronica.”

“Yes.”

“Can we trust that?”

Honestly, as someone who doesn’t believe in religion, I have no way of knowing if that knight is truly an angel or not. But even if he is an angel, there’s no guarantee he won’t be a threat to us.

The knight says he will fight against evil, but we don’t know what that evil is. It could be demons, it could be demon-folk, it could be vampires, and maybe, just maybe, it could be humans.

I let out a faint sigh.

“Well, there’s a saying in the Bible too. ‘I came not to bring peace, but a sword.'”

What if that knight suddenly bursts into the Vatican one day saying, “Cut the crap! I’ve come to judge you who have deceived and mocked the masses with lies. I am an angel,” and chases out the priests?

Whipping them, flipping tables, and breaking glass.

As if guessing my meaning, Veronica silently looked at me.

“…I don’t know if he’s an angel or something else pretending to be one.”

“…”

“Whether he’s an angel or not. We don’t have a way to defeat that knight right now, do we?”

“So, we just watch for now?”

“We have to.”

Veronica heaved a deep sigh.

“Still, I do hope that knight turns out to be the benevolent angel mentioned in the Bible…”

“U’aaaaaaaaak-!!”

Crash!

After a shrill scream cut off Veronica’s words, something large fell from the sky with a thud. It was a person. Someone familiar.

The identity of the person who fell from above was Akande. Looking up, a hole glowing in indescribable colors quickly shrank and disappeared in an instant.

Startled, Veronica couldn’t say a word, and I kicked the fallen Akande’s buttocks with my combat boot. No response.

“…Is he dead?”

“He’s still breathing…”

At that moment, a dejected voice came from behind.

The knight, who had appeared from somewhere, scratched his helmet while looking at the fallen Akande.

“I should have warned him that falling headfirst would make him faint… I made another mistake.”

“…”

“…”

Veronica.

Yes.

Do you feel like converting?

I think I do now.