Ch.483Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

As the transparent broth steams with a milky haze, the ladle skims the edges of the pot, removing the foam.

Glass bottles with intricate engravings, herbs boasting lush leaves, and clear broth visible between the bubbles.

The bubbling kitchen reminded me of an alchemist’s workshop.

Like my sister who would wail if even a speck of dust fell into her reagents. Or Francesca who would combine ingredients of questionable origin.

Even though I couldn’t use magic myself, I had observed magicians for a long time.

It was only natural that I felt a nostalgic comfort in the kitchen scene—

—KIEEEEEEK!

“Huh?”

I flinched as I was about to turn the doorknob. I had barely set foot on the threshold when a savage sound came from inside the kitchen.

It was an indescribable scream, like the wailing of the dead from the depths of hell.

What on earth is happening? Has a demon appeared?

As I stood frozen, unable to take a step, a pale face suddenly popped out from behind the refrigerator.

“Oh? It’s the Major.”

“Veronica?”

It was Veronica.

The saint was looking at me with blinking eyes, holding a ladle in one hand.

“What was that scream? Are you torturing someone?”

“Ah— you heard that. It’s not a human scream… Well. I suppose you could call it torture!”

“What do you mean…?”

“Look at this.”

Veronica plunged the ladle into the pot.

She turned the handle, stirring what might have been broth, and scooped up a ladleful of clear liquid. Her face was beaming with a bright smile.

Veronica carefully carried the broth to the table. On the long table was a massive case.

When she poured the broth over what appeared to be a musket possessed by a demon’s soul, an ear-splitting scream filled the kitchen.

—KYAAAAARGH!

Covering my ears against the unpleasant noise, I watched as Veronica gently set down the ladle with a satisfied expression.

“Surprised, right? It’s because of the curse on the weapon. I’m in the middle of subduing it.”

“Subduing… the curse?”

“Yes!”

“How?”

“By soaking it in holy water. See here?”

Tap tap. A clear sound rang out as she tapped the pot with the ladle.

I peered into the steaming pot. Various religious items like old crosses and rosaries were boiling vigorously along with herbs.

“Even the tiniest fragment of a weapon with a demon’s soul is dangerous. The Vatican seals curses that can’t be purified by the clergy’s power like this. Come to think of it, isn’t it similar to what the Magic Department does?”

“It is, but this is a bit…”

I looked at the weapon soaking in holy water with renewed surprise. I’d heard that the Magic Department sealed high-risk curses, but I’d never seen or heard of them being pickled like kimchi.

I could understand the holy items, but why the herbs? When I couldn’t contain my curiosity and asked, she replied they were for fragrance.

Apparently, the smell of old sheep oil was particularly foul.

“It seems like just yesterday you were making broth with saints’ bones… Now you’re even making soup.”

“It works well. You can see for yourself, right?”

Veronica tilted the ladle with a beaming smile. As the boiling holy water poured out with a sizzle, another scream followed with a “KYAAAK!”

I stared at Veronica with a dumbfounded expression. Then I looked at the musket that was screaming while helplessly soaking in holy water. Now I realized she was torturing a demon.

“…Veronica.”

“Yes?”

“In my opinion, you should have been an inquisitor, not a saint.”

Episode 17 – The Tree That Drinks Blood

“The Inquisition has contacted us.”

After subjugating the demon with holy water pickling, we gathered in the living room to talk.

“They seem curious about Ramiel and Nathaniel’s whereabouts. They’ve requested my testimony as well.”

“They’re investigating. I received a similar contact.”

“Did you comply?”

“No. I refused.”

Veronica shook her head. While clergy of all ranks couldn’t refuse cooperation requests from the Inquisition, the Pope and saints were exceptions.

Because they were children who received the full favor of the Great Divine.

According to church doctrine, divinity is a blessing and grace bestowed by the Divine upon the faithful. The clergy viewed the quality and quantity of divinity as a measure of the depth of one’s faith.

In that sense, Veronica, who heard the voice of angels and wielded the power of the Holy Spirit, and Lucia, who handled an unprecedented amount of divinity, were beings that even the head of the Inquisition couldn’t touch casually.

Except for crimes like treason or blasphemy that automatically resulted in death sentences in religious trials, the reality was that the two were difficult to punish even under church law.

This was why those who had tried to prevent Lucia from becoming a saint now lowered their tails, and why Veronica could strut around confidently despite causing all sorts of incidents.

“According to my team members, they seem quite urgent.”

“They have no choice but to be.”

Veronica nodded knowingly.

“A dangerous person they had detained escaped, and appeared with another dangerous individual. It’s the worst-case scenario not only for the Inquisition but also for the Vatican and Al-Yabd.”

I pondered her words before slowly speaking.

“I’ve already reported to the company. They seemed skeptical about Ramiel and Nathaniel’s identities, but they leaned toward the opinion that they aren’t extremely dangerous individuals as the Inquisition suspects.”

The Abbas government cast doubt on the angels’ identities but voted against interpreting them as dangerous elements. More precisely, they meant we should observe them slowly over time.

These beings had escaped through a sandstorm known as “God’s Wrath” among locals. If the Church failed to detain them, Abbas wouldn’t succeed either. Perhaps monitoring them would be better.

That’s why I brought Charnoi.

Considering Nathaniel’s wariness of humans in particular, a non-human species would be more suitable for monitoring them. If I were to bring someone else, the therianthrope Caer would probably be appropriate.

After organizing my thoughts briefly, I asked Veronica:

“What did the Vatican say?”

“You’re not really asking because you don’t know, right? You know Raffaello’s personality well enough.”

“I do.”

Too well, which is the problem.

I sank into the sofa, recalling past events.

When Ramiel first declared he would search for angels, the first thing I did was contact Camilla.

-Frederick? I’m hearing you’ve gone missing. What’s going on?

-I’ll explain the details later. I’ll send you three encrypted coordinates in plaintext, so please decrypt them quickly and check.

I sent Ramiel’s three destinations to Camilla, hiding them so that the real coordinates would only appear after multiple decryption procedures.

Upon receiving the message, Camilla quickly decoded the instructions. It contained three coordinates and instructions to come prepared as it might be dangerous. After confirming the contents, Camilla packed her things and flew to us.

The problem was that she wasn’t the only one who read those instructions.

From the moment she received the message, Francesca and Lucia were with her, and naturally, the contents of the instructions reached their ears as well. While those two were trustworthy colleagues and posed no problem, the situation spiraled out of control when Lucia requested support from the Vatican.

Just after we barely escaped the underground ruins, Inquisition forces waiting on the surface appeared before us. The clergy, on edge due to Veronica’s disappearance, attacked Ramiel and Nathaniel as soon as they spotted them.

The two angels could subdue demons single-handedly, so they weren’t helplessly overwhelmed by the Inquisition’s surprise attack.

Still, confronting so many forces seemed burdensome even for angels.

As white lightning and arrows rained down, Ramiel and Nathaniel abandoned counterattacking and wrapped themselves in rainbow-colored rings. With that, the two angels vanished without a trace.

I spoke with a heavy voice:

“…It was a mistake. I should have told them not to inform the Church. I forgot Ramiel was wanted.”

“Did someone call me?”

Good grief.

Startled by the deep voice that suddenly interjected from behind, I jumped in surprise.

Ramiel, wearing plate armor, had been watching us from behind at some point. Without making a sound.

How does he move silently in that armor? He should at least turn on his blinker when moving around.

“I thought I heard someone call my name.”

“We were talking about you.”

Hearing that the conversation was about him, Ramiel casually folded his arms.

“An interesting topic.”

The knight joined the conversation very naturally. His attitude suggested he would just listen quietly.

As I glanced at the knight with an incredulous look, Veronica opened her mouth to get to the point.

“Anyway, the Vatican leadership views the escaped Ramiel and the newly appeared Nathaniel as dangerous individuals. Unknown dangerous elements? Something like that. I hear they’re even considering issuing an extermination order.”

Veronica began explaining what had happened in Laterano in a calm tone.

After the Inquisition’s report went up, an order to prepare for extermination was issued to the Vatican’s War Department. Raffaello hadn’t officially taken any measures, but it was obvious that the moment the Pope stamped his approval, fully armed Templar Knights would fly to Moritani.

“Considering that old fogey’s personality, it wouldn’t be strange if an extermination order had already been issued. They’re preparing, but they seem hesitant to make a decision due to Al-Yabd.”

The Church and Al-Yabd are diametrically opposed. This was a historical fact proven by the repeated Crusades.

Even with the pretext of eliminating a dangerous individual suspected of being a vampire, the Vatican army coming here to capture Ramiel and Nathaniel was a different matter altogether. Moritani’s hegemony was firmly in Al-Yabd’s grasp.

If the Templar Knights moved to exterminate without agreement, Al-Yabd would immediately mobilize its army to stop them.

And we knew all too well what would happen when the armed forces of the two religions gathered in one place.

“Unless he’s planning a holy war, Raffaello can’t easily move his army. Even if an extermination order comes down, I expect it will be done secretly. That’s my prediction.”

The saint calmly predicted the Pope’s moves. At that moment, Ramiel, who had been listening quietly, opened his palm.

“The Vatican’s secret sword. I know them well.”

As if recalling past memories, the angel continued in a voice tinged with reminiscence.

“Long ago, there were clergy who secretly assassinated those they considered infidels and heretics. Rotario bestowed upon them the title ‘Kanai (קנאי)’.”

“Kanai? Those zealots?”

I had heard of the Vatican’s Kanai a few times. They were a group that invariably appeared whenever intelligence agencies in this neighborhood mentioned the history of covert operations.

The origins of the Kanai date back to the era of the Third Crusade, known as the Holy War.

Pope Rotario, who led three holy wars, cultivated numerous armed groups, including the Templar Knights, to win the war against infidels, and the Kanai received special treatment among them.

Their main activities were assassination and sabotage.

Like modern special operations, the Kanai also performed intelligence gathering and reconnaissance missions, and they favored infiltrating disguised as merchants or pilgrims, which overlapped with the activities of modern intelligence operatives.

Of course, as is often the case with intelligence agencies, the Kanai were objects of contempt because they did so many dirty deeds.

They were known as zealots among Al-Yabd believers, and they disappeared into the annals of history when the organization was disbanded as soon as the Pope changed.

I didn’t expect to hear about this here.

Thinking that Ramiel really was an 800-year-old man, I looked at him with renewed interest, which made Veronica tilt her head in confusion.

“Wait. You say you know about the Kanai in detail? How?”

“I met them in person.”

“…You’re saying you met the Kanai?”

A suspicious light shone in Veronica’s eyes.

“I may not have lived through the era 800 years ago, but I know what the Kanai were. I remember they were kept so secret that even archbishops didn’t know of their existence. How did you meet those people?”

She added that there had been suspicious things from the beginning.

“You hid that you were an angel, you claim you’re not fallen despite records clearly stating you’re a fallen angel, you entrusted your coffin to an Al-Yabd believer rather than the Vatican, and now you say you’ve met the Kanai. What kind of human— I mean, angel are you?”

“There are circumstances.”

“So what exactly are these circumstances?”

“……”

Ramiel couldn’t open his mouth for a while. After silence upon silence, the knight carefully continued.

“I made a mistake in the past. I had a conflict with the Vatican.”

“…You had a conflict with the Vatican?”

It was a story that was not only puzzling but even disconcerting.

What were you doing to conflict with the Vatican as an angel? Weren’t you part of the same religion?

Veronica tried to probe into what specific conflict there had been, but Ramiel held back, saying, “It was a long time ago.” Judging by the nuance, it seemed he had clashed over something quite unfavorable.

Feeling uncomfortable with the topic, Ramiel quietly left. Watching the knight walk away, Veronica’s eyes reflected bewilderment.

“A conflict between an angel and clergy…”

The saint furrowed her brow with a puzzled expression.

“I wonder what happened. Do you have any idea, Major?”

“Why are you asking me? I’m not even clergy. I guess they had a big fight or something.”

Since the scriptures referred to him as a fallen angel, it made sense if the Vatican of that time had been hostile to Ramiel and his companions. Maybe.

I lowered my gaze with an uncomfortable look. Then I slowly closed my eyes.

“Or maybe the Vatican caused some incident again.”

*

Three days had already passed since Ramiel and Nathaniel disappeared. Currently, the two angels were staying in a safe house, avoiding the Inquisition’s surveillance.

“What is this tiny squirrel-like sentient being?”

The gauntlet pinches the orange hair.

Ramiel tapped the small head with his finger, asking me its identity. As the pointed ears trembled, I gave a nonchalant reply.

“It’s a nymph.”

“Ah, a nymph! A holy and good being!”

The knight exclaimed and stooped down. The massive plate armor lowered so much that his limbs began to dance up and down shakily.

Ramiel held the bottom of his helmet with his hand, moving his fingers as if stroking his chin. Then he continued in a very interested tone.

“I remember they used to be much bigger. They’ve become small like dwarves, so I didn’t recognize them. Now I see the familiar characteristics.”

“Hieeeek…!”

Perhaps overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the angel, the nymph let out a scream.

Scurry! Charnoi fled from the gauntlet, crouching behind me and covering his head with his hands.

“The armor is talking…!”

“……”

I slowly pushed Charnoi away with my leg. I had trouble removing him as he kept clinging to my pant leg.

To explain why I brought this nymph to the safe house, I need to first revisit Leoni’s instructions.

After my report went up, a meeting was held in the Abbas intelligence community.

At the gathering of high-ranking intelligence officers, including agency heads, Leoni argued for the need for surveillance. While there was no way to determine if they were really angels, more detailed information was needed to judge whether they were dangerous or safe.

The Abbas intelligence community agreed with Leoni’s opinion. Using his authority as director, Leoni classified all materials related to the angels as top-secret and simultaneously instructed me to assign a monitor.

I designated Charnoi as the most suitable candidate.

“He will stay at the safe house from now on and protect you.”

Ramiel and Nathaniel don’t particularly need others’ help in daily life. After all, they neither eat nor sleep, so what help would they need?

But we needed to monitor them, and considering Nathaniel’s tendency to be wary of humans, the most suitable person for this job was undoubtedly the nymph Charnoi.

Of course, he himself denied it.

“Eeeek…?”

Charnoi, who suddenly had his workplace changed, opened his mouth with an astonished expression.

Tears welled up in his round, bright eyes. Like a Roman emperor stabbed by a friend, the nymph was treating me as a betrayer.

“This black-haired beast has sold out Charnoi…!”

“I’m not selling you out.”

“Such nymph-phobic decision…! This is why one shouldn’t casually take in black-headed beasts…!”

I removed Charnoi, who was clinging to my pant leg, and threw him to Ramiel. When I gave him a bag of honey candy he liked as a gesture of comfort, he shed tears of gratitude.

“Take Charnoi away quickly…! Call Pipinnoi here right now…!”

He says he doesn’t want to leave here for a while, so please send his regards to Pipin.

Charnoi claimed my translation was wrong, but I firmly denied it. The performance of the translator installed in my skull is accurate. If anything, Charnoi is the one who’s wrong.

“Ugh….”

Having moved his workplace to the safe house, Charnoi trembled continuously, too happy to contain himself.

After shaking for a while, unable to string words together, the nymph took out a communication device with an encryption function from his pocket and contacted someone.

“Caer….”

-“Nyaa?”

“Come and take this Charnoi away…!”

Charnoi called his friend Caer and asked to be picked up, but unfortunately, that dream didn’t come true.

Following Leoni’s orders, Caer was also assigned as a monitor.

When I argued that the task should be given to a non-human employee, they told me to bring a therianthrope from the Royal Intelligence Service’s operations team if there was one. When I called Matt to ask for cooperation, he said they had already departed.

That’s how another monitor was added.

It happened without my knowledge.

Really.

“KYAAAAK-! The damn nymph dragged me into this troublesome business too, nyaa!”

“The black-headed beast is going wild…! This time it’s a real beast…!”

Caer, who was suddenly kidnapped (not really), ran around the safe house on all fours like a maniac. Whenever he encountered Charnoi, he would snarl, forcing the nymph to flee with his tail between his legs for a while.

It was like watching a cat chasing a cheese-loving mouse. Ramiel laughed heartily at the commotion.

Anyway.

With the mindset of Mr. Lin (colonel rank) who runs Mobile Lineage auto-hunting at the office, I focused on my main job while leaving the monitoring to the nymph and therianthrope.

Going monster hunting with Camilla, contacting Defense Ministry officials with Francesca.

The rumor about alchemical weapons that dissolve monsters had spread so widely that even defense attachés from distant continents were eager to meet Francesca. I gathered useful information by questioning diplomats dispatched to embassies.

Of course, I didn’t neglect managing my informants either.

“Oh, Viktor? I’m using the safe house well. Actually, I’m calling about the market. I heard Kiyen Empire shells were sold cheaply and in bulk in the civil war area. Do you know anything about that?”

“It’s me. Is business in the north going well? I called because I heard rumors all over Moritani that the Palm Tree Cartel is aiming to enter Necropolis. *Sigh*… Rumor has it there’s going to be a crackdown at some eastern port.”

“Nothing unusual in Necropolis? Really? That’s good. By the way, have you cut down on the marijuana, Mr. Joaquin?”

It’s good that intelligence gathers even when I’m still, but managing and analyzing it is ultimately my job.

I was busy compiling, analyzing, and writing reports on materials that came in from various places.

Just then, new information came in.

“This is news from Necropolis. Someone saw a few unidentified religious people meeting with Al-Cair believers there.”

Memos cluttered the table. These were materials collected by Joaquin, who was disguised as a Palm Tree Cartel employee in Necropolis.

Veronica began examining the intelligence gathered through investigation. I cleared my throat with tea and continued.

“Considering that the Inquisition raised suspicions about Al-Yabd and Al-Cair being connected, it’s suspicious in many ways. I suspect the people who contacted the cultists were Al-Yabd clergy.”

“Hmm….”

Veronica, who was chewing on the tip of her fountain pen, shook the memo she was reading.

“Do you have evidence?”

“Yes. There was something suspicious.”

According to Joaquin’s investigation, the religious people who contacted Al-Cair introduced themselves as cultists. They were a group that, while not powerful, was quite active in Necropolis.

However, when he inquired through an acquaintance of that group, he was told no such people existed. They claimed that since January, the group had left Necropolis due to business, so there were no believers left in the city.

I ordered further investigation, and Joaquin scoured Ash Tree Street in Necropolis.

After questioning cultists with close ties to the group, he confirmed that they had indeed been absent and had only recently returned to Necropolis.

I took Veronica’s memo after removing my lips from the teacup.

“Since we obtained testimonies through different groups, there’s a certain level of credibility. There’s no reason for them to lie.”

“If it’s true that the cult group was really absent, then the religious people who met with the ones who stole Lucia’s blood in the city were hiding their identities?”

“Yes.”

Many hide their identities in the Port of the Dead. However, there are no lunatics who hide their identities by impersonating others.

Impersonation is a serious issue, especially for cults that need to avoid religious police crackdowns.

If you want to commit suicide, there are many other methods, and if you want to hide your identity, simply keeping your mouth shut would prevent suspicion. There’s no reason to go as far as impersonation to hide your identity.

This was the claim of Joaquin, a native of Necropolis.

“If they hid their identities by impersonating another religion, there are two possibilities.”

I tilted my head back and opened my mouth.

“Either they’re newcomers who don’t know how the city works, or they’re slick operators who never intended to stay long. If someone noticed they were using another group’s name to operate, they would surely track them down… They must have been confident that the fanatical cultists wouldn’t dare touch them.”

Veronica, who had been resting her chin on her hand, slowly lowered her arm and asked:

“And you think these are Al-Yabd clergy?”

When I silently nodded, a sigh escaped Veronica’s lips.

“Hah… That’s the most likely hypothesis.”

“There’s no other suspect that comes to mind.”

“That’s what makes it more troublesome.”

While Al-Yabd was suspicious, that made it even more strange.

Why would Al-Yabd target Lucia’s blood? Why did they take the sleeping angel?

“According to the angel’s claim, that tree or bird that drinks blood is going to rampage. Al-Yabd has no reason to awaken a demon, right?”

“I don’t know that far either. I’m also wondering what they were trying to do with my sister’s blood and the angel in the first place.”

“Good grief….”

What a complete mess.

There were too many inconsistencies to attribute this to mere religious differences. It would be more realistic to say that someone possessed by a demon acted independently, like in the northern incident. Of course, that too lacks evidence.

“Let’s take a break.”

Perhaps because of the case that had fallen into a labyrinth without even a clue, Veronica groaned, pressing her temples.

She leaned her arm on the sofa and lit a cigarette. While she took a break, I brought palm wine from the kitchen.

Pouring enough wine to make the glass ripple, she opened her mouth, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.

“Do they not sell alcohol to foreigners here either…?”

“It’s because of the law, you know. You’re aware that the religious police are on high alert.”

“I’m not even a believer in the Earth Mother Goddess.”

In the midst of exchanging idle conversation with Veronica, there was a knock.

Tap tap. A clear sound of glass being tapped came from somewhere. Thinking it might be the wind, I turned my head to see a large bird tapping on the window with its beak.

After mindlessly turning my gaze and meeting those intense eyes, I flinched. The precious wine jumped out of the glass, instantly staining my pants and the carpet.

“…What is that?”

“It’s an Aquila. The Elder seems to have sent a letter.”

Veronica, who had a cigar in her mouth, got up from the sofa and approached the windowsill.

After unlocking it and carefully opening the window, an eagle stepped over the threshold with tiny steps. It was Aquila, the High Priest’s communication method and pet divine beast.

As if it had no leisure to perform tricks for mere humans, the divine beast looked at the saint with a noble demeanor and extended one leg. A small letter was attached to the outstretched leg.

“Here you go.”

Veronica took out meat from the refrigerator and threw it to the creature.

Aquila puffed out its chest with glossy, abundant feathers, showing off before plunging its beak straight into the meat. Soon after, with a chomp chomp, the divine beast’s meal began with a delicious sound.

After watching the eagle flapping its wings and immersed in the meat, I turned my gaze to Veronica.

“What does the letter say?”

“I sent word a few days ago. I told him we found a new angel and that I had questions, asking for a reply. That’s what just arrived.”

Veronica carefully untied the knot and dropped the string. After removing the wax with a knife, she slowly unfolded the rolled letter.

“……”

Veronica’s expression subtly hardened as she read the lines. It was a subtle change, difficult to notice.

I cautiously approached her side, sipping palm wine.

“Your expression is serious. What’s wrong?”

“…I think you should see this yourself.”

She thrust the High Priest’s letter at me. I took it and read it slowly.

*

A cheerful humming can be heard.

Shoes tap the sand in rhythm, and there’s a liveliness to the hands carving wood.

The nomad sitting on a rock hummed a tune.

He was making a statue. On the way to the holy land, he was carefully crafting a statue to offer to the Earth Mother Goddess to alleviate his boredom.

-Jingle jingle.

-Baa.

The sound of bells permeates the cool night air, and the cry of livestock lingers.

The gentle blowing wind and the soft sound of sand being swept away. With all that as a backdrop, the nomad carved the wood with his carving knife.

-Baaaaa~!

The goat bleats unusually long. It was a familiar but grating sound. Especially so while he was humming a cheerful tune.

The nomad carving the wood glanced at the herd of goats. Perhaps startled by the incoming wind, the goats were bleating and running around in groups.

The nomad put down his carving knife and calmed the goats.

The livestock that had been quenching their thirst at the oasis seemed startled by something. As the gentle touch of their owner reached them, the animals gradually began to calm down.

After soothing the goats’ anger, the nomad was about to return to his seat when he suddenly stopped.

“Hmm?”

A long stick had fallen on the ground. It was a smooth stick that didn’t look like it had fallen from a tree.

Seeing the stick, the nomad easily recalled that it was an item he had given to his son. Since he had carved and gifted it himself, its shape and grain were familiar to his eyes.

I told him to look after the livestock. Yet he threw away the stick and who knows what he’s doing now…

The nomad frowned deeply as he picked up the stick. Thinking he should scold him when he returns.

That’s when it happened.

As he raised his head, a tree came into view. With bare branches stretching high into the sky, a familiar figure was hanging from it.

The nomad, who had been examining the figure closely, let out a small sigh. It was clear that this son of his had climbed the tree to pick dates again.

The nomad moved, tapping the ground with the stick. Eventually arriving in front of the tree, he began raising his voice toward his son hanging from the branch. What on earth are you doing up there? It’s dangerous, come down now.

“……”

But there was no answer.

The son hanging from the branch didn’t say a word. As the frowning father took a few more steps toward the tree.

Thud.

The stick fell onto the sand.

And then came silence.

As the cool night air swept over the sand, the desert night was as quiet as ever.

Only, there was one more figure hanging from the tree.