Ch.582Episode 21 – Peace in Our Time

# The Inquisitor’s Favorite and the Clergy’s Beloved: Random Burning at the Stake

The festival where those who had lost their faith were placed on piles of firewood, eagerly awaiting the rising heat, was unfortunately dismantled by some ruffians before the flames could even be lit.

“Ugh… d-damn it…!”

The spy who had nearly vanished like morning dew on the execution ground slumped down onto the floor.

He wasn’t exactly crying with tears and snot… He just expressed his indignation by pounding the ground while making whimpering sounds mixed with curses.

“What on earth is going on here?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Child, do you have any idea about this?”

“How would I know, Professor?”

The master who had toppled the woodpile exchanged puzzled glances with his disciple who was organizing the ropes.

Both the grand magician and the magician seemed equally dumbfounded, as they continued to whisper to each other, unable to properly grasp the situation.

“…Why were you in this state?”

Alexandra Petrova asked with a suspicious gaze, alternating between looking at the rope in Camilla’s hand and the soaked woodpile.

At that, Frederick, who had been sprawled on the ground, jumped up!

He began to express his indignation, hopping mad.

“No, let me explain how this all happened…!”

Eventually.

The Grand Duke twitched his eyebrows with a rather surprised expression.

“…You’re saying this was done by Ranieri’s child?”

## Episode 21 – Peace in Our Time

Turning back time, it had been several months since I took the position of department head.

While handling desk work in my office, I received a phone call.

The call, coming through the internal security line, was a summons to come up to the small conference room on the 5th floor of the main building.

It seemed that my superior, who couldn’t bear to see me relaxing on a rare day off, had more work for me.

I headed to the conference room after receiving the call from the 2nd Department Director’s aide.

My subordinates, who reluctantly took over my work, grumbled in protest, but upon hearing it was the 2nd Department Director’s summons, both Pippin and Jake seemed to understand and stopped complaining.

“You’ll need to go on a business trip to the Rushan Federation.”

Upon arriving at the small conference room on the 5th floor of the main building.

Leoni, the person who had summoned me, issued her instructions briefly and clearly.

“A business trip? As far as I know, I don’t have any projects there.”

“I’m not sending you there for a project.”

“Then what for?”

“We need to dispatch someone to assist the 1st Department Director. You’ve been selected.”

“Ah. The diplomatic meeting…”

The diplomatic event between the Kingdom of Abbas and the Republic of Ashtistan. Commonly known as the ‘Bahar Conference.’

This was the first diplomatic meeting between the two countries since their founding. After the fall of the Kingdom of Ashtistan, the two nations had severed diplomatic relations and maintained a confrontational stance.

From that perspective, it could be called a historic meeting. It was also widely regarded as a diplomatic event of considerable scale and substance.

I’d heard that Clevins had been selected as a participant in the conference, along with officials from other government departments.

“I’ve heard about it. The capital of the Rushan Federation was chosen as the venue for the conference.”

“Did you hear from your sister? I remember she was in the Foreign Ministry. Grade 6.”

“I’m not sure about her grade, but I heard she was promoted in the last irregular personnel appointment.”

“She worked as a third secretary at the Petrograd Embassy, so you must know. Even the Kiyen Empire is participating in this conference.”

I was taking notes of Leoni’s words when I looked up and asked her:

“Aren’t you attending, Director?”

The Overseas Department Director, leaning slightly against the table, replied with a tired expression. There was also a hint of annoyance.

“I’m quite busy.”

“…I suppose so.”

I heard she’s been busy dealing with the double agent incident lately. At least, that was the rumor circulating in the overseas department.

While she had always been known for her difficult temperament, word had spread widely among intelligence officers that the 2nd Department Director’s mood had recently plummeted through the basement floor all the way to the mantle. There were stories about her throwing documents during face-to-face reports, and staff members coming out crying like seven-year-olds after meeting with her…

News of mid-level officials from not just headquarters but also brigades and units getting chewed out after submitting reports to Leoni was not uncommon.

The most talked-about incident was the regular meeting attended by all security section chiefs of units under the Military Intelligence Bureau.

After hours of the 2nd Department Director’s shouting, all participants reportedly left with grim expressions.

I didn’t know exactly what had displeased her, but according to Pippin, who enjoyed gossiping with the situation room officer, numerous minor security regulation violations had been detected during “emergency unit inspections.”

Apparently, even cases that would normally have been resolved with warnings were all referred to the disciplinary committee.

Given the current situation, it seemed she couldn’t let things slide.

That must be why Leoni was so upset.

With the major security breach involving Siegmund turning headquarters upside down, reports had come in that overseas department units had successively violated security regulations. There would likely be many promotion exclusions in the next personnel announcement.

That’s probably why Pippin and Jake gave me sympathetic looks when they heard about the 2nd Department Director’s summons.

“The 1st Department Director will handle things well over there. I’m sure you were selected because you’re capable.”

As always, with an expression that was ambiguously tired or angry, Leoni concluded in a calm tone.

“Anyway, do well. Both you and the 1st Department Director will officially participate in the conference, but don’t stick too close and get caught. We’ve had plenty of staff who were followed and had to retreat to the office during such events.”

“……”

“And don’t forget to report regularly. Whether from the conference hall or meetings. Whatever it is, if there’s something to report, do it promptly.”

She was telling me not to slack off too much.

The Rushan Federation is one of Abbas’s allies, and even though it’s a diplomatic conference, I wouldn’t just be working non-stop before returning.

She was saying she wouldn’t interfere if I did my job properly, so I should use my discretion about taking it easy.

Setting aside the fact that “my job” entailed a ton of work.

Anyway.

“You’ll hear the details from the 1st Department Director. He’s already left for Bahar, so you should be able to meet him comfortably before the conference starts. You’ll get the contact time and place on your way down.”

“Understood.”

“Good, if you have nothing else to say, go back to work.”

“See you at the debriefing.”

*

The journey to Bahar was swift and quiet.

There were two main reasons for this.

First, security concerns.

The Abbas-Ashtistan conference is not an international event attended only by those two countries.

The Rushan Federation, an ally of the Kingdom of Abbas, provided the venue and acted as a mediator, while the Kiyen Empire, an ally of the Republic of Ashtistan, attended as a counterbalance. So there were already four countries directly involved in this conference.

With two globally recognized superpowers and two regional powers that divide the continent of Moritani in conflict, other countries wouldn’t just sit idle.

Moreover, the World Union Conference venue had also been awarded to the Rushan Federation.

Most governments had already sent out all kinds of officials, from ambassadors to special envoys, to secure their interests.

And it’s a historical certainty, proven by the FBI branch in New York where the UN headquarters is located, that all sorts of spies lurk around diplomatic events.

This four-party conference was essentially a massive playground where intense games of tag among intelligence officers were anticipated.

In other words, all civil servants with intelligence officer badges would be running around like crazy.

Naturally, I was no exception.

Second, personal reasons.

This was literally a personal reason.

To be precise, an extremely trivial yet most important issue…

Francesca is coming here.

“……”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? You’re sweating profusely.”

“Ah, no, I’m fine.”

While surveying the Rushan Federation’s Bahar National Convention Center, the historic space where the four-party talks would be held, Clevins, who was leading the security inspection, suddenly addressed me.

He had an expression that suggested he was witnessing something peculiar.

Leaving behind the intelligence officers checking for unauthorized magic circles as part of anti-eavesdropping measures, he stood beside me with his hands in his coat pockets.

“Don’t be nervous. Even for preliminary checks, you don’t have much to do. And during the conference, you just need to provide some support from behind, like other aides or attendants.”

“Yes, I understand.”

I nodded repeatedly while wiping the sweat from my forehead.

As he said, I wouldn’t have much to do at this four-party conference. With foreign ministers as representatives and vice-ministerial level officials from each department engaging in verbal battles, how could a mere major like me, not even a general, dare to step forward?

My purpose here was solely to assist Clevins, the Military Intelligence Bureau’s 1st Department Director, who was attending as a practitioner in the military and security fields.

“The main issues to be discussed are… the illegal arms deals of the Law Guardians and Siegmund’s espionage activities, correct?”

“That’s right. These are weapons for our Foreign Ministry to attack them, and conversely, attacks we need to defend against. Strictly speaking, since the Intelligence Agency is the party concerned, they should resolve these issues.”

Clevins clicked his tongue, shrugged, and added in a low voice:

“Well, it’s a suitable topic for the Foreign Ministry to negotiate as well, isn’t it?”

That was half true. Why do global summit meetings and international conferences occasionally request the release of journalists detained on espionage charges?

Journalists captured in China or Russia often get released through such methods.

There are cases where they’re held hostage as bargaining chips despite knowing they’re not intelligence agency personnel, and cases where they’re arrested on trumped-up charges of anti-regime activities or anti-state conspiracy based on their articles or reporting. Anyway.

I heard similar discussions would take place at this four-party conference. More precisely, my sister Adela had tipped me off.

Apparently, they would request the release of several freelance journalists, travelers, and businesspeople arrested in the Republic of Ashtistan.

In return, the Abbas Foreign Ministry would nitpick about the Law Guardians’ illegal arms deals, bicker for a while, and then when the Ashtistan Foreign Ministry started making a fuss, they would pretend to give in and release several banks (overseas slush funds of the Republic frozen under the 11th Ashtistan sanctions) at the request of the Abbas government.

Of course, that’s only if things go well.

If things go wrong, they’d scrap the whole hostage exchange plan and switch to a hardline stance.

What an incredibly peaceful international stage this was. It was enough to make one’s heart warm and blood pressure boil.

“……”

Honestly, I didn’t care much about how the four-party talks turned out.

Whatever the outcome, it wouldn’t dramatically change my current work. To see any practical impact, I’d need to observe the situation for at least a few weeks, or even months.

So the four-party conference wouldn’t have much effect on me.

Rather, what could affect me was not the outcome of the conference, but potentially encountering Francesca in this country.

While the conference results might take some time to reflect in my work.

Francesca could mess me up right now if she wanted to.

The conclusion was that I needed to stay alert like a meerkat and run away to avoid encountering Francesca.

Or pray that we wouldn’t meet and leave my fate to God.

“…Sigh.”

What would I do when Camilla or other colleagues joined? I wish Veronica had come along.

When I suggested that the saint, who has excellent skills in tightrope walking and testing waters, accompany me to the Rushan Federation, she skillfully dodged by saying, “I have urgent matters to attend to, so I can’t go with you this time~ Maybe we’ll meet in Bahar later?”

Why is Veronica never around when needed, but appears quietly when not needed? Last time she even came to the embassy and caused a commotion.

I still couldn’t forget that incident.

When she went gallivanting outside and brought back three daughters-in-law. My parents nearly collapsed, and I felt like the world was crumbling around me.

After receiving Leoni’s instructions and joining Clevins, I carried out the necessary tasks within the Rushan Federation as per his orders. My job was to identify and record third-country intelligence agents lurking around the National Convention Center.

However, thoughts of Francesca refused to leave my mind.

What if I really run into her? Surely, she wouldn’t come to the conference venue?

Should I start changing my accommodation regularly to avoid her?

While such thoughts were buzzing in my head:

“Frederick? Could you bring up a box from downstairs?”

“Yes, sir.”

I went outside the center to fetch supplies needed for the security check.

I unloaded cargo from the vehicle trunk and greeted Foreign Ministry staff who had come to support from the embassy. At that moment, someone handed me a receipt ledger, which I updated.

“Please fill this out.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man, who introduced himself as a second secretary, handed me a paper clipped to a clipboard. But there was no writing instrument.

“There’s no pen here.”

“Oh? Just a moment. I’m sure I brought one… where is it?”

“Someone bring a spare pen. Seems like he lost his.”

As the embassy staff bustled about:

“Here you go.”

Someone handed me a writing instrument.

It was a quill pen.

While it’s uncommon for people to use quill pens in this day and age, accepting the inconvenience, the story changes if the quill pen is a magical tool. Having worked at overseas embassies, I had occasionally seen diplomats using quill pens registered as magical tools with the foreign ministries of their host countries, so I roughly understood how to use them.

“Thank you. You’re using a nice one? I heard these are quite expensive.”

I took the quill pen and immediately began writing.

The problem was that I hadn’t properly checked who had handed me the quill pen.

“It’s fine.”

And that was the beginning of trouble.

*

“Such crude tools can be found in abundance at the magic tower.”

It was a chilling voice. No, the voice itself was infinitely gracious, but it gave me the creeps.

Cold sweat ran down my spine, and my hair stood on end in an eerie triangle.

I didn’t have the courage to turn my head to confirm the owner of the voice.

However, the other person kindly walked in front of me, even bending slightly at the waist to reveal her face before my gaze, which had been fixed on the ground.

“…It’s been a while, Military Attaché?”

Francesca murmured with an extremely delighted expression.

With a smile brighter and more radiant than ever before.

“But where did you leave your sister, wandering alone like this?”

Her smile wasn’t really a smile at all.