Ch.486Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

# The Company’s Response Was Swift

The Military Intelligence Bureau, having received information from the Special Investigation Bureau, immediately dispatched police officers to the families’ workplaces.

In fact, the news had already reached the Prime Minister’s Office before it even got to the Military Intelligence Bureau’s ears.

It happened during a cabinet meeting, and the Prime Minister mobilized the police through the Interior Minister.

“The discussion about protection has been going on for a long time. It’s been continuously discussed since the Northern Incident.”

I was able to get the details from Clebins.

“Didn’t the Order warn that families should be cautious about their safety in case of emergency? Though it’s late, it’s fortunate that it’s happening now.”

“Is everyone safe?”

“They’re staying safely at the official residence, so don’t worry.”

The government moved the families to an official residence—the one that had been assigned to me by the Defense Ministry, where that general used to live.

Though they’re civilians, regulations allow families to reside in official quarters together. Thanks to this, the families could remain safe. While they were inconvenienced by the belongings left behind at their mansions and townhouses, they were at least secure for now.

With a security platoon stationed there and a police station just a stone’s throw away, no one would dare approach for the time being. No matter how skilled the Imperial Guard’s intelligence agents might be, they couldn’t face heavily armed military forces and police special forces.

For reference, no specific time limit had been set.

“How long will this arrangement continue?”

“Well, they can stay at the residence as long as necessary until further instructions come from the Prime Minister’s Office.”

“I’m not sure if I should be happy about that.”

“To be honest… it’s not particularly good news.”

A faint sigh came through the phone. Clebins continued with a troubled voice.

“You know, don’t you? That protection can be more tiresome than one might think. From the perspective of those being protected.”

“…I know.”

It’s called protection, but it’s essentially surveillance. Not that Abas is monitoring the families, but rather that the families might feel they’re being watched by the government.

Frankly speaking, how could anyone sleep comfortably with armed soldiers standing guard at the front door?

The residence is protected by military police, and when they leave, officers assigned by the Interior Ministry follow them. Meeting acquaintances, and even commuting to work, would feel uncomfortable.

Clebins understood this better than anyone. After all, VIP protection was one of the official duties of the Military Intelligence Bureau’s counterintelligence division. Knowing this made him feel conflicted.

“With the current situation being unstable and the Imperial Guard showing suspicious movements again… The company is doing everything it can, but…”

“…”

“You must be going through a lot.”

I responded in a flat voice.

“No. It’s fine.”

“I won’t tell you not to worry about your family. But it would be problematic if it affects your work. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s see each other when you return.”

# Episode 17 – The Tree That Drinks Blood

The list sent by the Immigration Office of the Ministry of Justice was distributed to each company through the Special Investigation Bureau.

Foreign intelligence officers suspected of entering the country.

Yekaterina, confirmed as an Imperial Guard intelligence agent, and numerous suspicious foreigners. It was difficult to accurately count how many spies had entered using third-country passports.

Surveillance began.

The Special Investigation Bureau, an intelligence investigation agency under the judiciary, and the Cabinet Security Office, directly under the Prime Minister’s Office, were in charge of the operation.

Since domestic activities fell under their jurisdiction, companies like the Royal Intelligence Service and the Military Intelligence Bureau’s Foreign Division couldn’t intervene, but the Military Intelligence Bureau’s Domestic Division could participate as it involved military counterintelligence.

While the investigation was underway, Clebins issued a new directive.

Find out if any Imperial Guard intelligence agents had recently left the Empire, and if so, what mission they were on.

The recipients of this directive were spies within the Imperial Guard.

Double agents recruited by the Military Intelligence Bureau’s Domestic Division.

No one could guarantee how long it would take for a response to arrive.

Neither the moles within the Imperial Guard nor Clebins, who managed them, could be certain.

It was no different for me. That area was one I neither was involved in nor could be involved in.

I could only wait and hope for the best.

*

The world is in turmoil.

Dying embers have flared up again.

Even countries that seemed to be nearing the end of civil war, or those that were mending their conflicts, were no exception.

Terror swept across Moritania, having momentarily hesitated in the face of prolonged attrition warfare, international intervention, and the impending Aramad.

[Corrupt regimes have plunged the people into misery. The president, in collusion with foreign powers, has sold off the gifts left by our ancestors and the Earth Mother at bargain prices to foreign countries.]

[The Kiyen Empire has brought its army into this land and suppressed the voices of innocent citizens with force. Therefore, we have decided to destroy the presidential palace and embassies, symbols of oppression by invaders and rulers…!]

The number of hard targets attacked (military facilities, government facilities, power plants, embassies, and other heavily guarded targets) had long since exceeded double digits.

Considering the size of the Moritanian continent, it was a small number, but it was damage that the local governments couldn’t handle with their miserable response capabilities.

Shells fell on government military bases. Checkpoints came under fire.

Terrorists raided presidential palaces and government buildings that symbolized dictatorial authority, and groups—whether they were mobs or terrorists remained unconfirmed—occupied embassies and took diplomats hostage.

That wasn’t all.

[Amid the unstable political situation in Moritania due to successive terrorist attacks, another terrorist organization has issued a statement. Commander Baramant Al Akab of the ‘Feraika Guards,’ who advocates for the revival of the Feraika Dynasty, has begun marching toward the former dynasty’s capital, stating that ‘if the army does not immediately withdraw from the border, we will launch an attack.’]

Taking advantage of the chaos brought by terrorist organizations, local warlords also began to rebel one by one.

The oppression and massacres carried out by the mainstream ethnic group that made up the central government. The anger of minority ethnic groups suffering under the government’s blade and the oppressed believers of other religions erupted.

Suppressed anger developed into chaos amid fear, fueling civil war between government forces and warlords.

Four days ago, a rebel coalition was formed in a country located in western Moritania, and today, a government military base near the border close to a refugee camp was attacked. The guards of the old era, advocating for the restoration of the monarchy, also clashed with the security detail protecting the Prime Minister.

When a masked shaman raised the wind, police cars flipped like toys.

When the hazy tear gas smoke settled on the streets, soldiers wearing gas masks poured out.

There were moments when photos of civil servants burned to death by shamans and protesters beaten to death with batons occupied the front page of the morning newspaper side by side. It happened in a distant country.

And that evening, the newspapers, as if nothing had happened, spread trivial government announcements, and unrecognizable corpses were displayed hanging from cranes. The practices that had been taking place in Iran were being replicated in Moritania.

[Claims have been made that a warlord occupying the Zukerha region is carrying out civilian massacres. In an interview with foreign media, the local police chief claimed that more than 300 citizens of minority ethnic origin were killed by rebel forces…]

[A terrorist organization raided a school in the southern region and beheaded teachers. While the specific reason has not been revealed, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs stated that the executions were likely carried out for the crime of providing education that violated religious law.]

[Amid daily protests against economic crisis and dictatorship, allegations have been raised about government forces firing in the capital, Rakai. When asked about the truth, a local military authority spokesperson avoided answering, remaining tight-lipped…]

[As dangers escalate daily, Abas Kingdom and Kiyen Empire, located on the Moritanian continent, have ordered some embassy staff to evacuate.]

[Foreign ministries have begun advising their nationals to leave the country. While this is interpreted as a measure in response to successive terrorist attacks and civil war, some analysts suggest that war between local countries over natural resources is imminent.]

The chaos on the Moritanian continent also affected continents across the sea.

There was debate in intelligence agencies and foreign ministries about whether local governments could manage the damage.

Defense ministries that had dispatched military advisory groups were busy checking if their stationed troops had suffered any damage.

Amid this, intelligence was received that relatively stable countries were deploying troops to their borders, taking advantage of the chaos. And not long after, orders to evacuate were issued to several embassies.

“…”

I read the telegrams that came down from the Foreign Ministry.

Information that a certain government was considering military operations to rescue diplomats taken hostage.

A memo warning that the threat of terrorism by anti-foreign terrorist groups was escalating and urging caution, etc.

When I finally read that VIPs, including myself and Camilla, might be targets of terrorism.

“Damn these bastards…”

I cursed as I crumpled the telegram.

It was a rather sharp reaction.

I was already on edge due to family issues, and now all sorts of crazy incidents were happening one after another, so it was understandable. But even considering that, it was sufficiently irritable.

“…”

Despite all the warnings flying in, there wasn’t much I could do.

I couldn’t return to my home country like this, nor could I intervene in local politics.

Amid the chaotic political situation in Moritania, the Vatican and the Magic Tower shared an opinion for once. They asked how we could not have any intention of returning in such turbulent times.

However, we decided to stay here.

“What’s the big deal about terrorism? They’re just street shamans. I’m not weak enough to be taken down by rejects who couldn’t even enter the ivory tower.”

“While the expression is a bit extreme, I agree. If we succumb to fear, who will remain here to care for the refugees?”

“Umm! Honestly, I am a bit scared. But I don’t intend to run away.”

“…”

“Let’s just tough it out! Whether it’s rebels or terrorists, let’s fight if we can. If it really doesn’t work out, we’ll pack up and leave then!”

The reactions of the group were quite a sight. They casually proposed to just charge in without any fear of the world. Fearlessly.

With Camilla, Lucia, and Francesca taking this stance, both the Order and the Magic Tower had to back down.

There were voices pleading, “Please, persuade our Saint, our Captain,” but were these the kind of people who would change their minds if I tried to persuade them?

And so.

We decided to stay in Moritania, with all its lurking dangers.

Some protecting the wounded and vulnerable, some facing fear head-on, and others confronting monsters.

And finally.

After repeated preparations and practice.

The day finally dawned.

“Everyone, pack your things.”

I said to the three people, with my military pack slung over my shoulder.

“Let’s go cut down some trees.”

*

While threats escalated daily and flames rose across Moritania, not all countries were engulfed in the flames of conflict.

The refugee camps where we mainly operated were prime examples.

A vast range of activities spanning four countries. Each country had its share of disturbances, but the situation didn’t deteriorate severely.

The central governments of the four countries still maintained their influence. The peacekeeping forces dispatched by the World Union were protecting civilians to minimize damage, and government forces were also focusing on military operations to reduce collateral damage.

Like many countries in Moritania, this place was also a developing country, but it was relatively politically stable. Except for a few dangerous regions.

Generally, areas where government forces were strong were safe, and neighborhoods where warlords roamed freely were dangerous.

For reference, most of the areas where we operated were “safe zones.” The World Union had deployed us after considering various factors.

Of course, there were times when we approached areas close to warlord activities, like Asen and Sanya.

But not as much as today.

“Hmm.”

As we sped along a wide-open road after passing through a government force checkpoint.

Camilla made a sound with a subtle nasal tone and turned her gaze out the window.

Groups of people were walking up the path we had just come from. Toward the government force checkpoint. Judging by their destination and appearance, they were refugees.

There were refugees on the empty road. To be precise, there were only refugees.

Except for the occasional passing military vehicle or a police car with its paint peeled off to a comical state, the only things seen on the road were refugees moving on two feet.

Camilla, who was observing the refugees walking with tired faces, wore a desolate expression.

“Everyone’s evacuating. They’re heading to the refugee camps, right?”

“The camps might be their destination, or it could be relatives’ homes in the provinces.”

“…Those people. They’re all coming up from the south.”

Blue eyes sink into lingering emotions.

Camilla, immersed in a strange sentiment, took in the sight of the long line of evacuees.

“The south, that’s where it is, right? Nabuktu. The city where the tree appeared.”

“That’s right. The city with the man-eating tree.”

And coincidentally, it’s also where we’re headed.

With endless plains stretching on both sides, sand storms rose from the tires speeding along.

Seeing refugees coughing continuously, covered in dust, I turned on the radio installed in the vehicle.

“Lead vehicle. Please slow down a bit. Even with the windows closed, dust is pouring in by the bucketful.”

After a moment.

When the interpreter said something over the radio, the car ahead began to slow down.

I put down the radio irritably and quietly complained.

“Really, the standards of the military in this neighborhood…”

Many things had happened since the incident in Nabuktu. The resistance of Al-Yabd fundamentalists who couldn’t allow the Vatican to participate in the investigation, the regional council looking askance at foreign military intervention, and so on.

The fact that Nabuktu, where the incident occurred, was the provincial capital of the southern part of this country was also cited as one of the reasons for the significant repercussions.

There was debate encompassing religion, politics, and society regarding the Inquisition’s investigative activities, but surprisingly, the heated debate quickly subsided.

This was because more victims emerged while everyone was arguing back and forth.

Camilla, who had been closely monitoring local media and foreign press trends, mentioned the recent incident in Nabuktu.

“I heard that people investigating the tree died. Scholars were dragged away, and those who went to rescue them were also taken.”

“Yes. Police and firefighters. There were also a few soldiers and civilians.”

Immediately after the incident, the governor of Nabuktu sealed off the scene and launched an investigation.

It was an investigation conducted at the provincial level, with support from Al-Yabd clerics who managed the area.

The problem started when scholars examining the tree were eaten. Beginning with the scholar who approached the closest, colleagues who tried to rescue that scholar were sucked in.

Police and firefighters on standby at the scene tried to pull the scholars back, but it was futile.

Instead, even the police officers and firefighters who were rescuing the scholars were dragged in, and several soldiers and brave citizens who tried to help them met a similar fate.

It took less than 10 minutes for dozens of casualties to occur. About 8 minutes, roughly.

Upon receiving a report of the incident, the president immediately sought help from the Vatican, Al-Yabd, and the World Union. That’s how we were able to gain permission to enter the scene.

Francesca pressed her forehead with her hand, as if in disbelief.

“Changes only happen after people die… I don’t know whether to consider this natural or sad.”

“It’s the same in every country.”

“Safety regulations are written in blood.”

I stared at the cars ahead. It was a procession of government forces heading to Nabuktu in the south.

Even in a country with relatively stable politics, this was clearly a nation in the midst of civil war. In a country where civil war is active, the military’s influence is inevitably high, and naturally, in such a national crisis, the military is the first group to move.

Of course, they weren’t moving with benevolent intentions. As is typical of third-world militaries, the military in this country was half-warlord-like.

It was a manifestation of their wicked intention to enter first and resolve the situation before foreigners could take all the credit.

“Sigh…”

I didn’t believe for a moment that those bastards could resolve the situation. Not just me, but everyone thought the same.

It’s better to trust the Order or Al-Yabd. For reference, vehicles carrying people from the Order and Al-Yabd were following behind us. Rebecca, a priest from the Inquisition assigned to assist Lucia, was also coming from somewhere over there.

The reason I trusted the clerics following behind more than the government forces leading the way was simple.

A really simple reason.

Because the person appointed by the military as the person in charge was none other than a parachute appointee.

“Ugh, who was the newly appointed regional commander of Nabuktu? I think I met him before, but I can’t remember.”

“He’s an appointee from the presidential palace.”

Francesca, who had been in contact with all sorts of defense ministry officials while crossing borders, smiled slyly.

She summarized the newly appointed commander for resolving the situation in Nabuktu in one sentence.

“He’s the president’s brother-in-law.”

A very simple and clear explanation. That one sentence made everyone understand.

Damn. Even with all this chaos, they still haven’t come to their senses. I should have known from the moment that bastard of a president came to the refugee camp for photo ops. Damn it.

There was no bigger idiot.

Even in a country deemed favorable by the World Union after careful screening, that didn’t prove the integrity of the local government. In fact, corruption exists in every country, but finding a non-corrupt country on the Moritanian continent was as difficult as finding a virgin who had conceived a child.

Needless to say, it was hard to expect the newly appointed southern commander to have the response capability of the Kiyen Empire’s military government command.

At least the Emperor didn’t entrust the fate of the north to a parachute appointee. Of course, it was a commander appointed by the Crown Prince instead of the senile old man.

“Ah… I suddenly miss Commander Mikhail.”

Francesca sighed with a thoroughly disgusted look.

“I never thought I’d say this, but the Imperial Army really chose their commander well.”

As she muttered weakly, Lucia, sitting in the back seat, began to smile awkwardly.

“…Don’t think too negatively, everyone. If you look closely, I’m sure there are positive aspects to the commander as well.”

It seems not just anyone can become a saint. Even in a situation that anyone would find maddening, Lucia hadn’t lost her positivity.

I looked at her with admiring eyes.

“You’re quite positive. But from what I know, the newly appointed commander had some incidents at his previous post.”

“Incidents, you say?”

“What was it again? Sexual harassment of his adjutant? There was also an indictment for embezzlement of public funds, but I’m not sure how the verdict turned out. I only heard this from people at the embassy, so I don’t know the details… Anyway, he was a problematic individual.”

“…”

A chilling silence filled the vehicle.

Lucia just sat there with a smiling expression. She just kept smiling.

The mood had been dampened by the revelation of the commander’s misconduct, whom we hadn’t even met yet, but it was only momentary. Soon, the group regained their composure and began a full-fledged discussion.

“The clerics will investigate, and we’ll provide security, right?”

“Yes. While the Order and Al-Yabd examine the tree, we need to prevent any casualties.”

It was decided that religious figures would be responsible for investigating the man-eating tree. Clerics from the Order and Al-Yabd would thoroughly examine the tree.

Meanwhile, we would prevent any unforeseen incidents and, if necessary, eliminate the tree. Of course, regardless of the outcome, the removal of the tree was a foregone conclusion.

This was our official role.

Which means there’s an unofficial role.

A real role exists separately.

“Before the Order and Al-Yabd examine the scene, Ramiel and Nathaniel will go in to check the tree. While they confirm the tree, we need to prevent anyone from approaching it.”

I explained the plan in a calm tone.

“We’ve secured the government’s cooperation. By order of the regional commander, the army will control access. No one is to approach, whether from the Order or Al-Yabd.”

Of course, there was a possibility that someone might breach the military perimeter and enter. Those are the people we need to stop.

As I was explaining step by step, Camilla, with her lips pursed, let out a humming sound before asking me a question.

“Hmm… When exactly did you secure such cooperation?”

“This morning.”

The Abas military attaché stationed at the embassy secured a promise from a high-ranking officer at the local Ministry of Defense. The result of a bribe. Obviously.

There was no need to bring that up, but everyone seemed to have guessed the circumstances. Francesca smiled brightly, and Lucia wore a sour expression. Camilla didn’t seem to care much.

Turning her head, Camilla looked out the window. Garbage and junk were precariously scattered along the roadside.

While watching refugees rummaging through piles of trash looking for usable items, she suddenly spoke up.

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Over there… Someone’s standing.”

She pointed somewhere as she looked out the window.

Past the asphalt lightly covered with sand, across the vast plain, someone was standing far away on what might be a rocky mountain or a sand dune.

The distance was too great to see clearly, but one thing was certain: a person holding a long staff was standing alone. It looked like a wooden staff.

“Ah, it seems to be a passing elderly person.”

“An elderly person?”

“It’s common in this neighborhood. Elderly people walking alone. Sometimes they get caught by monsters and die, but people who’ve lived here for a long time tend to avoid them. Whether it’s robbers, monsters, or whatever.”

Having lived in such a neighborhood for a long time means having survived all sorts of crises.

Just as elderly people living in Afghan mountain valleys faced Soviet forces when they were young and now face the Taliban threatening their tribes, the elderly in this neighborhood often proved through their actions that they hadn’t wasted their years.

I spoke in an indifferent voice while watching the road ahead.

But Camilla couldn’t take her eyes off the diminishing figure. Until the moment it shrank to a tiny dot and disappeared completely.

“Hmm…”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, just…”

Camilla, who had withdrawn her gaze from the window, answered with a somewhat uncomfortable expression.

“My stomach feels strangely burning.”

It must be motion sickness.