“H-he refers to me…as Miss Cockroach?!”

  Inside a fortified stone castle deep in a forest somewhere in Louria, Archbishop Selena vi Lusbeck, the leader of the Death God Cult’s Ministry of Love, glowered at her fellow colleague. Said colleague was Archbishop Maurice Ney, the leader of the cult’s Ministry of Proportional Response. Unlike Selena, who dutifully wore the black ceremonial robe of the cult, Maurice Ney wore an old but well-kept blue uniform from the Lourian Kingdom’s navy.

  Alongside that, Maurice Ney sported a mustache so thick and outrageous and a black eye patch that hid his right eye, which had a vertical scar running up and down through his skin, and on his table was a feathered tricorn. While most members of the Death God Cult wore clothing that seemed to resemble that of a darker version of what the Holy Church usually wore, Maurice Ney seemed more like a soldier who had gone mutinous.

  Maurice was having his fine breakfast of red wine and steak, calmly cutting through it as Selena ranted and ranted about her mortal enemy, this man who they had identified as ‘Sir M’—well, according to him, that is. Apparently, it was the name bestowed on him by the [Saint], so for now, they were going with that designation.

  “Are you even listening, you old fart?!” Selena asked, her face fully red. “I demand retaliation! I cannot accept this! I, the most graceful and beautiful woman in the face of this world, cannot be called a cockroach! Unacceptable, unacceptable, I say! Absolutely unacceptable!”

  I really can’t wait to part ways with these mad people.

  Maurice chewed his steak faster before gesturing to his aide to give him a towel. Wiping the edges of his mouth, he gave back the towel to his aide. Maurice set off his cutlery to the side to look at the angry archbishop in front of him—who, by the way, crashed without advance notice straight into his office while he was having a fine breakfast—and smiled a bit. It was enough to infuriate the elven woman rather quickly.

  “Look,” Maurice started. “I do not control this fellow’s ways of identifying his opponents, and to be quite frank, how many times have you died again?”

  “I did not die?”

  “Revived yourself?”

  “Twice…” she grumbled.

  “Cockroaches are quite well-known for their ability to appear in so many odd crevices, and their resilience is impeccable. Quite frankly, I would say that his nickname for you is a gentlemanly compliment on his part.”

  “I will absolutely murder you, Maurice.”

  “Second of all, you cannot call me ‘old fart’ when you are, in fact, a few centuries older than me.”

  The Minister of Love was, suffice it to say, quite angered. She was glaring bloody murder at Maurice, who decided that a good sip of his wine was good for this situation. Now, to be quite fair to the elven cultist, Maurice indeed looked like an old fart. He was already in his late fifties, his face was wrinkled and weathered by the passage of time, and quite frankly, if it wasn’t for his high levels and good stats, he would have keeled over from his lifetime abuse of both tobacco and alcohol.

  It was, in contrast to Selena, who was still otherwise a beautiful young lady, at least in appearance. And she was indeed quite up there in terms of pretty, enough that even his faithful aide was looking at Selena with great torment, as it was common for men to find it difficult to not fall victim to her alluring looks. Of course, Maurice was unaffected by this, as he once had a wife before he became part of a cult, and he believed his deceased wife was still a prettier lady, and if there was something he prided himself in, it was his ability to remain faithful whether she was dead or alive.

  In any case, this was why, unlike his aide, Maurice had an easy time mocking and messing with the infuriated lady in front of him. He didn’t give a toss about her, and since he knew she needed him, he knew that even if she was technically stronger, she wouldn’t lift a finger. Besides, she was the rude one for crashing into his office unannounced on a fine morning just to shout at him.

  And shout at him, she continued.

  “Maurice, Maurice…” Selena’s eyes twitched. “Do you have a death wish, perhaps? Have you forgotten that it is I who protect you from the rest of the council? Your heresy in following the scriptures knows no bounds! Maybe this is why you’re not lifting a finger when your colleague is in distress while being unfairly humiliated!”

  “Oh please, get off with that nonsense,” Maurice finally frowned and straightened himself. “Alright, let’s say this guy’s an asshole. And well, he is. Good, what do you want me to do about it? He snuffed out one of my best agents as if it was nothing.”

  Maurice laughed at her. “He kicked your ass too. Twice.”

  “It was a tactical retreat, like you always say!”

  “It’s only tactical if after said retreat you have more plans than begging your fellow ministers for aid.” Maurice laughed further. “Anyway, this is why I only sent a few scouts. I knew that you’re a sneaky one. Were you hiding his strength to bait me into fighting him stupidly? Have you perhaps forgotten who I am?”

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  “Maurice,” Selena leaned close. “I just need you to buy time. I told you, I am getting the rest of our colleagues organized. We, Maurice, all of us, will strike him and that prissy silver-haired harlot all at once. But that takes time. I need you to disrupt them, because they’re getting stronger by the minute, and they’re learning more about us.”

  “Oh, how wonderful, and it’s my job to go into potential suicide by attacking him alone for now?”

  “Do you have doubts in the scripture, Maurice? In our great struggle?” Selena gasped. “Surely, you still believe that the resurrection of the Death God is righteous and just, no? Why then are you…why…?”

  Maurice bashed his fist.

  “Make up your mind, woman. Am I a heretical traitor, or am I the most crucial bastard for this plan of yours? You can’t have it both ways!”

  At that question, Selena trembled and twitched in anger and frustration; meanwhile, Maurice, who was quite worked up at this point due to her incessant nagging, also began shouting at her. The poor aide on the side turned pale as he deflated, and it was quite possible that the two had a shouting match stretching the entire morning before they agreed on anything substantial.

  [Ignite]: 94% Mastery

  [Blow]: 92% Mastery

  [Rock Throw]: 90% Mastery

  [Cleaning Vortex]: 84% Mastery

  [Fireball]: 77% Mastery

  [Rock Barrage]: 83% Mastery

  [Ultimate Universal Dispel]: 55% Mastery

  [Dispersion Wave]: 62% Mastery

  [Restrict Movement]: 68% Mastery

  It had been nearly a week now since he started studying magecraft under Siris’s tutelage. Originally, he did want to help Stella in her pursuits about charity work, and in the daytime he did usually do that. Unfortunately, being a masked guy made it quite dreary, as he was unable to show himself to more lower-ranked people in the hierarchy. But he was able to meet and talk with many wonderful people who were Stella’s trusted friends, namely, Louise and even that ‘vampire’ woman named Alice.

  At night though, he focused his attention on studying spellcasting. As he looked at his current grimoire, which he had summoned, his mastery of the spells he originally had before Siris started helping him had greatly increased. Most were now above 80%, for example, which was about as close to mastery as one would get, unless they happened to have a breakthrough that would let them easily conjure the perfect spell circle.

  On the other hand, Marcus learned three tactical utility spells that he might be able to use against Archbishop Selena, that is, [Ultimate Universal Dispel], [Dispersion Wave], and [Restrict Movement]. The hardest one was [Ultimate Universal Dispel], as its spell circle was simply so complex that it was not easy to visualize by memory, so mastering it, even when he first learned about it, was quite tricky. On the other hand, [Dispersion Wave] only concerned itself with disrupting an enemy mage’s spell circle conjuration. It was, instead of [Dispel] and its variants, a spell designed to disrupt a spell before it is completed, which made it easier. Lastly, [Restrict Movement] was something Marcus thought would be useful in many good scenarios, and it was also greatly easier to perfect than the first two.

  In a way, all of this is quite enough for me. Marcus thought as he closed his grimoire. It’s why I focused on these instead of direct combat spells.

  Marcus had a sword and had mastered the way of the sword. Quite frankly, the only utility he needed from magecraft was specialized tools to remove or block an enemy’s magical capabilities. Not much more; the rest could be filled up by his solution of simply slicing the hell out of his opponents. Physical violence alongside specialized anti-magic capabilities, and well…Marcus thought that he was mighty fine.

  And it was an opinion shared by Stella, who was standing beside him.

  “You know,” Stella smiled. “If you weren’t such an overly practical man when it comes to this, I bet your ability to easily absorb and learn things is going to make you the finest scholar in magic out there.”

  “Pfft, as if I can become one,” Marcus just chuckled as he walked away. The courtyard he used for his training was a bit of a mess, with scattered target practice objects and boards on the side that depicted spell circles so that it would help him adjust while firing off spells, courtesy of Siris, and of course, there was a table and a bunch of chairs on the side, with biscuits, tea, and textbooks on top.

  Stella pointed her wand at one of the target dummies, which was a stationary golem constructed by Siris’s magic. The elf conjured a cool blue spell circle and fired off a beam of light at it, destroying it in an instant. The speed at which she managed to construct the spell circle was so fast that Marcus barely even had the time to blink and see its process.

  “Showing off, huh?” Marcus shook his head. “It’s quite sad that I’m only able to do that with less complex spells for now, like [Ignite].”

  “O-oh,” Stella turned red, embarrassed. “Don’t think of it that way! I just…well, I really just wanted to fire my own spell too, after watching you train…”

  “Ah…”

  “Pfft, you two.”

  Siris floated from the top of the courtyard before landing on Stella’s head. The great spirit smiled a bit, while Stella below still seemed hung up on trying to explain herself and convince Marcus that she wasn’t trying to brag. Of course, Marcus told her not to worry about that as he decided to take a rest, sit on one of the chairs in front of the table, and grab a biscuit.

  “So, now that you’ve learned how to use those spells,” Siris said. “And that you’re basically one level away from reaching silver rank, what’s your plan now, Sir Marcus?”

  “I don’t know…” Marcus said, lazily waving the biscuit he took a bite of. “Hmm…Stella, how’s that whole ‘raising funds’ thing going?”

  “I’ve…” Stella stopped before holding her arm. “Well…umm, I’ve been getting quite a number of nobles and wealthy folks backing me. But, well, I’ve only met around eighty percent of my targets.”

  “...So you’re still short.”

  “Yes, but I should find a way to get through that,” Stella adamantly said. “I know I’ve extended our stay here for too long when we should be chasing the cult, but—!”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Marcus shook his hand. “Now that I’m done with my preparations, I suppose I should focus on yours. Stella, what do you think about my proposal earlier of going down and clearing a dungeon for some gold?”