Spirit Again (1)
About thirty minutes later. The conference room.
The Dragon Scale Officer, whose scales had been polished until they practically bounced with light after a full shower of divine holy power, looked at me and spoke.
"Well then, let's fire it up."
"Yes, ma'am."
Without hesitation, she placed her hand on the crystal orb.
- Vrrrrmmm.
Before long, the Minister's figure appeared within the orb.
"We've been waiting, Central Officer. And Inspector Askyrin as well."
We both snapped to attention at once.
"Central Officer Nathan Kell, Chief Officer of the Southern Border, reporting my return from leave."
"Dragon Scale Officer Dhin Askyrin, Chief Officer of the Northern Border, reporting the conclusion of my acting duties."
Every piece of administrative business, from beginning to end, is bookended by a formal report.
Seeing the Minister for the first time in five days, he looked a touch more gaunt than usual.
"Ah, right. Has it already been that long— no, hold on a moment."
The Minister, mid-sentence, suddenly furrowed his brow.
"Dragon Scale Officer? Now what in the world is that?"
"It is this officer's new title. Kindly address me as Dragon Scale Officer from now on."
"...Why?"
"The inspectors of the Southern Border have rather distinctive titles. So I decided to claim one of my own. Jeanie and Renny have taken new ones as well."
Askyrin rapped her tail against the floor, thump thump, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
"Haaah..."
At the sight, the Minister let out a long, deep sigh.
"Why is it that every time you all visit the South, you come back like this... Agent R was spouting nonsense too, insisting I call him something ridiculous like 'Dragon Agent.'"
Then he shot me a look.
"Central Officer. I was going to ask if you enjoyed your leave... but it seems pointless."
"Oh? You're not going to ask?"
"Anyone with eyes can see you rested well—your dark circles are gone."
Well, fair enough. I really did sleep like the dead on that last day.
The Minister shook his head at my plainly convinced expression and continued.
"Quite a lot happened while you were gone. But before we get into that, first I have a question for Inspector Askyri—"
"Dragon Scale Officer, Minister."
"...Damn it all. Fine. A question for the Dragon Scale Officer, then."
"I'm listening."
"How was it, working in the South instead of the North?"
The Dragon Scale Officer froze solid.
After a long silence, she murmured under her breath.
"...I saw death."
Oh, come on. Not this again.
Her hands trembling, she pressed on.
"Two days. Two days, I could endure."
Two days, huh. You held out longer than most.
The Taste Officer had collapsed from overwork on her very first day—not from the number of entrants, but sheer exhaustion.
"As Chief Officer, it was fieldwork I'd forgotten, so at first it was almost pleasant. But then ten entrants became a hundred, and a hundred became a thousand..."
Her voice sank back into despair.
"This place is hell, Minister. Processing thousands of entrants every single day with only five officers is a violation of labor law!"
"You're telling me. I've wondered the same thing myself—how you managed to run on nothing but your own two legs like that for four years."
The Minister nodded along in agreement.
"If this officer may say so, the problem lies in the South's structure itself."
"Agreed. Your staffing numbers were far too small to begin with."
But I did have a rebuttal ready.
"You're startled, Dragon Scale Officer, because you haven't done fieldwork in the North for some time. In the South, the Chief Officer runs the front lines alongside everyone else—that's the only reason we manage. This is what normal looks like."
At that, she turned to me with an expression that said no, that's precisely what's wrong here.
"No. A Chief Officer facing entrants at the very front line—that's what's abnormal. No border post anywhere in the world operates this way. Only the South does."
"..."
I couldn't argue with that.
"It's truly time to bring in new staff, Central Officer. If not for anything else, then for the sake of your subordinates—and your own health."
Even the Minister chimed in.
It wasn't as though I hadn't considered it.
But how easily does one really choose a person in this world to trust?
'Before the Gerard incident, that man was the single most trusted figure at the Southern Border.'
If even him could be seduced by money and greed, that was the border for you. Bring an outsider halfway in as an insider, and corruption and scandal become inevitable.
On that point alone, I would never compromise.
"I appreciate the advice, but I suspect our Dragon Scale Officer is simply a little shaken."
As gently as I could, I steered the conversation back toward the report.
"I'll concede that entrant volume is always high. But even so, it can't have exceeded that time we processed the three-thousand-strong pilgrimage."
Remembering how I'd genuinely been worked to the bone that day, it felt absurd to hear such faint-hearted whining after a mere five days of work—split among seven people, no less.
This is why executives who've never worked the front lines are the most dangerous of all.
Moaning that she was at death's door after the barest taste of hardship.
But the Dragon Scale Officer slowly turned her head and looked at me.
"It was not only the dragonewts who came, Central Officer."
"Pardon?"
"People from the Holy Church began arriving as well. From the second day onward."
"..."
It was an answer I had not anticipated in the slightest, and I froze in shock.
"...The Church, you say?"
"Yes. The very Order that tried to kill you."
"But... but that matter was already settled, wasn't it?"
I couldn't make sense of it. The crisis had ended with their entry denied and forced deportation, hadn't it? The Pope falling from power when the pilgrimage returned home should have been the natural course of things.
And then, an ominous thought flashed through my mind.
"Don't tell me—they're searching for Erzena...!"
"That question, we'll answer on our end, Central Officer."
The Minister manipulated the crystal orb, and I heard the sound of another party joining the call.
"Director of Intelligence. Do you read?"
"Yes, Minister."
It was Melanie, Director of Intelligence.
"Mel, I mean—Director?"
"Good to have you back, Central Officer."
She had addressed me not by the usual nickname, but by my official title.
Which meant this was no conversation to be taken lightly.
But something was off.
The confident, sly smirk I'd always known was nowhere on her face. Like the walking corpses I'd left behind here at the Immigration Office, there was only a single lamia, completely burned out—vacant eyes, ragged, dry hair.
Startled by the sight, I asked,
"Uh... Director? Are you quite all right?"
Melanie's yellow eyes slid sideways toward me.
"No. No, I am not. And it's all thanks to you, Central Officer."
"Th-that's hardly this officer's fault?"
Why did that sound like it had thorns in it?
What was wrong with her?
I thought it over for a moment. And then, one clue surfaced.
"Could it be... you resent this officer for piling additional work on you before his leave... is that it?"
The instant the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
Because the serpent in the crystal orb had snapped her eyes wide open.
"Oh. Oh dear."
The Minister and the Dragon Scale Officer hastily covered their ears.
And two seconds later—
"Oh, I'm sorry, is that what you call it? While you were unconscious for three days, I worked myself half to death making sure not one word of that entire crisis leaked—and drove myself sick wondering if you'd ever open your eyes—and then the very moment you woke up, you announced you'd be sweeping all the VVVVIPs off to your family estate, dumped a mountain of extra work on me, and rested easy all by your lonesome—and I'M the one holding a grudge?"
"...I beg your pardon?"
"And what about the person who promised, ages ago, to stop by the royal castle so the two of us could meet alone—and then left me waiting for nearly two weeks without so much as a word? Am I the one holding a grudge there too?"
"M-Melanie?"
Like a wandering minstrel of the red-light district, she riddled me with a rapid-fire barrage—tatatatata!
I had briefly forgotten.
That serpents carry deadly venom.
And that a lamia is, in fact, a serpent.
A deadly poison by the name of Ferocity poured through the crystal orb and splashed all over me.
Her mouth was smiling, but those eyes bored straight into me, and that face was terrifying beyond words.
"No, no. Of course I don't resent you. It's simply the duty of a government institution. Isn't that right, darling? I don't resent you for breaking your promise, or for wandering outside the safehouse either. Don't you worry. I won't resent you in the future, either."
"...I deeply apologize."
Even with a hundred mouths, I had nothing to say.
"Now, that's quite enough of the sob story."
Only after the Minister cut in did the situation barely manage to settle down.
"How is young Erzena? Is she doing well?"
"Erzena, you say?"
Why was her name coming up here, of all places?
Melanie narrowed her eyes and picked up where the Minister had left off.
"Did you hear any... unusual news during your leave?"
"..."
News, was it.
Instantly, a memory unrolled itself before my eyes, vivid, vivid, vividly clear.
"I like you, Nathan. Truly."
The warmth of lips pressed against mine. The tears, still damp, that had clung to my cheek.
"Well, you see..."
There had been something.
Something rather big.
Something biiiiig.
But I was not so reckless a fool as to speak the truth. I had no confidence I could survive her evolving from a lamia into a full medusa.
And so I said this:
"Nothing happened."
"I see. That's a relief. At least I'll get to hear it only after your leave is well and truly over."
But Melanie, responding in a way entirely different from what I'd expected, straightened her posture.
"Listen carefully, Central Officer."
The lamia's long, slitted pupils had gone dead serious.
"A civil war has broken out within the Holy Church."
"!!!"
A hammer blow of shock crashed down on me.
"According to our informants embedded within the Papal Court, the Papist faction and the anti-Papist faction have already fought one battle in the Church's southern branch. And..."
Melanie held her silence for a long moment before forcing the words out.
"The anti-Papist faction is in retreat. But their casualties are already approaching half their number."
I understood immediately what that meant.
"Don't tell me the Pope..."
"Yes. Pope Escabar purged the pilgrimage upon their return. And now he's hunting down the survivors."
A purge.
Far faster than King Rio's plan. Far crueler, too.
A monster who would kill his own people with his own two hands had been born first.
- Creak.
Having finished my report, I left the conference room and moved my feet in silence toward the recovery room.
"With the Pope resuming full activity, young Erzena will only be in greater danger. You must exercise even more caution than before."
The Minister's and Melanie's warnings kept circling in my head.
- Step, step.
With each steady footfall, the recovery room drew nearer.
And within that rhythm, I sank deep into thought.
'Erzena.'
Should I tell her?
And if I did—what should I say?
Why did it have to be now, of all times? She still had a full month left in which she could remain here.
'Erzena.'
Not knowing what to do, I could only repeat her name over and over in my head.
And then, at last, I reached my destination.
- Creak.
I opened the recovery room door with a heart full of tangled feelings—and there she was at the center of the room, using her divine holy power to melt away the fatigue of my attendant and the Five Senses Officers.
I walked up to her and spoke quietly.
"Erzena."
"Ah, Nathan. Did the report go all right? Thank you for your hard work."
She offered a faint smile and a gentle word of encouragement.
I watched that smiling face for a moment.
Ever since our vacation, her expression had carried that same soft, lingering smile.
As if some great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
I knew what that meant.
'She revealed, for the first time, the feelings she'd been keeping locked inside her heart—to the very person they were meant for. The liberation of it, and with it, a clearer certainty of her own heart.'
It hadn't been words spoken in expectation of an answer, most likely.
And yet now, I had to deliver a terrible truth to that smile.
'Is this right?'
Did I truly need to tell her?
'Erzena isn't a Saint anymore.'
Or I could simply mention it in passing—that things were a little dangerous right now, so she should be careful. I didn't want her fretting over the Church for no reason.
Erzena had already been battered around by the Holy Church enough.
'I don't want the Church shaking her again.'
Was that my selfishness? My wish? Or the right answer?
I didn't know.
Seeing my expression grow grave, Erzena asked, worried.
"Nathan? What's the matter?"
And then I remembered something else she had said, through her tears, that day.
"Those who know the truth are being persecuted. Is it really right for me to remain here?"
Yes.
'She was already wrestling with what she ought to do now—torn between her own wishes and her sense of duty, in a way that ached to witness.'
Staying silent now, or softening the truth, or dodging it entirely—that would be a discourtesy to her heart.
So I would speak honestly.
Plainly, and without reserve.
"Erzena. And all of you. There is something I must tell you."
I said it quietly.
"A civil war has broken out within the Holy Church."
"!!!!!"
For the first time since she had cast aside the name of Saint, her divine holy power darkened, just slightly.
"...What did you just say?"
Her voice was trembling.
"N-Nathan. What did you just say?"
The smile was gone, and in its place sat fear and shock.
With a heart like lead, I continued.
"The pilgrimage... was purged by the Pope's hand. Nearly half of them are dead, and the rest are fleeing for their lives."
Truth is one of the most vital things in any relationship between people.
But at times, it can be merciless.
- Hmmmnnng.
The bright, warm holy power turned thick and dark, like a swamp.
"...Escabar."
The hateful name ground out between her teeth.
From between her bone-white clenched fists, wisps of golden energy dripped down, drop by drop.
And over Erzena's face settled the fury-filled expression of days long past.