Marcus reached the rooftop of the building he was in. It allowed him to get a better look at Meriel District, which was the main northern district of Kalthafen City, which was mainly comprised of the city’s slum area. In his southern direction, he could see the more well-built areas of the noble district, alongside the government square, where the Royal Diet and the Royal Palace were.
From here, looking ahead, it was a quaint skyline. Kalthafen was cold, yet so peaceful. He had been using his [Mass Surveillance] skill intensively to appraise the city after all, and even inside Meriel District, which was the poorest area, crime seemed…so low? Maybe it was only because he was new here, but, back then, in his old home city, crime was a rampant, everyday occurrence.
Out here, even in the poorest district, while there were a lot of unsavory characters that Marcus detected using [Mass Surveillance], outside a single instance of petty thievery earlier, there hadn’t been any true violence. In fact, there were even a few squads of city guards patrolling the area. Their presence wasn’t as intensive as their presence in the wealthier areas of the city, but they were still here.
All in all, Marcus knew that this area should be somewhat safe, especially with the powerful yet so subtle barrier spell that protected Meriel’s Haven.
Yet, it seems that someone possessing an artifact emitting death magic is moving.
Most of all, he couldn’t detect this entity using [Mass Surveillance]. That was something new and something he never dealt with. Well, to be fair, he did detect it—that was why he knew that it was moving and getting closer, but only because he knew what death magic smelled like. While he understood very little theory about how it works, after twenty years of dealing with it on the daily, it was something his [Mass Surveillance] skill, even his bare nose, could smell from afar.
It was his main alert system whenever it came to anti-demon combat operations. Even for opponents who chose to disguise themselves with spells and artifacts, due to their demonic nature, they would emit this disgusting form of mana that he could track. That meant their trickery only worked on others.
Not on me, though.
Marcus continued tracking the faint scent of death magic. It was moving slowly, sometimes rapidly, and it was almost as if it was trying to weave through the bustling streets of the slum district. Marcus calmly took a sip of coffee as he continued observing, feeling a familiar sense of calm and ease course through him.
What even is this?
Ah…right…
As he took a deep sigh after feeling the bitter yet so aromatic taste of his coffee, which seemed to have been brewed to perfection, Marcus felt a smile forming on his lips. Indeed, just as his [Mass Surveillance] skill picked up the scent of death magic even at such a great distance, his instincts could feel the thing he’d learn to crave the most.
Combat.
Through and through, Marcus was a soldier, molded by war. To fight, and to kill, became his home, perhaps even his sanctuary. While he felt as if Stella’s presence was starting to soften him, his nerves reacted when he felt the air of combat approach. His nerves hardened, his senses were immediately heightened, and the dizziness he felt earlier from overusing [Mass Surveillance] suddenly disappeared. He felt as if his mind was once again cleared of all obstructions.
“This bastard is walking closer here,” Marcus said to himself, chuckling a bit. “Must have thought that we’d be vulnerable here, huh?”
He checked the conditions. First of all, it was daylight, and Meriel District was heavily populated. Second of all, for whatever reason, it seemed that this creature was seeking confrontation right near Meriel’s Haven. It was quite a disgusting tactic, but Marcus saw the rationale.
Involving crowds of innocent people will obviously hamper us. Especially Stella.
After all, back in Marcus’s engagements with the Death God Cult, the damage in the environment had been quite significant. Especially in Eisenfeld, they practically demolished large sections of the city during the battle, mostly due to magic. However, unlike Eisenfeld, Meriel District was densely populated.
It would cause chaos, disruption, and death. All three would give this malevolent bastard so many openings that could be exploited. Now, Marcus didn’t give a rat’s ass about the goals that this moron had, or if his assumptions were real. What he did care about was that he was now feeling pumped up. Beating the shit out of trash, after all, was his fun pastime.
Whatever you’re planning to do, I’m not letting you involve the people that Stella treasures.
Especially this orphanage. As a soldier, it was his duty to defend it with utmost excellence.
Marcus emptied his cup of coffee. Then, he briskly walked out of the rooftop, going straight down to the guest lounge, where he found Stella and Louise still in deep talks. When he entered, naturally, the two women stopped, and all eyes were turned to him. Especially Stella.
Her eyes narrowed a bit, as if she recognized something about him.
“Marcus…?” Stella asked as he closed the door. “What is it now?”
Marcus leaned his back on the door before gruffly speaking. “There’s trouble.”
“W-what?” Stella stood up, frowning. “...Is this serious?”
“I will figure out the specifics.”
“Right, then. Lady Louise, I’ll just—”
“And I will deal with it.”
Marcus said that with finality. Then, he smiled. “Look, you guys are talking about extremely important matters about this institution, no? We can’t let some small fry disrupt that.”
“But Marcus, I can’t let you go alone. If it’s the Death God Cult again, we both have to deal with it.”
“On the contrary, I really, really want to crush this one beneath my boots myself.” Marcus’s face darkened. “It’s been a while since I’ve given them a good beating, and I’m itching for it. Will you please let me have this opportunity, Stella?”
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“But, Marcus…” Stella pouted. “You’re just…getting in trouble because of me again.”
“I assure you, I’m not. In fact, I’m quite excited right now.”
Phoebe stared blankly at Marcus. Marie, who was standing on the side of the door, looked at him with horror, as if his current demeanor was enough to make her freeze up. Louise, on the other hand, looked at Marcus disapprovingly.
“I thought you were Her Highness’s guard,” Louise said, narrowing her eyes. “Yet you seem to be the one dictating how things go. Is my observation correct?”
“I guard her,” Marcus said, his eyes hardening further. “Anyone who even tries to lay a hand on her will be meeting the goddess pronto.”
“...She’s the [Saint]. She hardly needs any man’s guardianship.”
“I agree, but she also doesn’t need to deal with headaches like this. I simply wish to help her in my own ways.”
Louise didn’t seem convinced, while on the side, Stella sighed softly. “Marcus, I worry about your safety too. I know they have never truly threatened you, but your magical capabilities are, as you know, not top-notch. I don’t want them to sneak a trick on you.”
“Thanks for reminding me about that. That’s why I’ll work on it. That’s why I need to do this. The faster you fix the problems you have with your charity work, the faster you’ll be free to help me out with my magic.”
Marcus gave Stella a relaxed thumbs up. “Just leave this to me, okay?”
“Hmph. Fine…” Stella relented. “But if it goes hairy, call on me. If you don’t, I’ll be angry.”
“I know, I know.”
Then, Marcus walked out, going back to the rooftop. He raised his hood up and then placed his white mask on his face. He was going to deal with this quickly and cleanly.
Section Leader Martin Kieft of the Death God Cult’s Ministry of Proportional Response—the militaristic arm of the cult—arrived at Kalthafen yesterday, right after the reported arrival of the new threat that disrupted the cult’s operations greatly, the so-called ‘White Watch.’ Using an artifact that traced its origins back centuries ago, when mankind warred with the demon horde, Martin Kieft managed to sneak in easily and move to surveil their new enemy.
The artifact he wore was the so-called ‘Bloodied Armor of Despair,’ an armor made of adamantite metal but infused with a myriad of enchantments said to have been bestowed by the Death God himself before granting it to one of his demon lords. Martin Keift was one of the best section leaders available in the ranks of the Death God Cult, hence why he had been granted its use by the Minister of Proportional Response himself.
Unlike other subdivisions of the Death God Cult, the Ministry of Proportional Response was led and made up of former military men, drawn from all corners of the globe. Unlike other subdivisions of the Death God Cult too, the Ministry of Proportional Response had a very defined goal as to why they wanted to revive the Death God and the demon horde.
They didn’t worship the Death God; instead, the Ministry of Proportional Response had the goal of using the Death God as their finest weapon, a weapon so powerful their military might would lead them into ruling nations of their own. That was why, when the Minister of Wholesome Love made an appeal about dealing with the White Watch, who had cravenly slaughtered their fellows in the Ministry of Fervent Service and the Ministry of Justified Acquisitions, it was they who first replied.
After all, one of the White Watch’s members was laden with a thick scent of the Death God’s essence. It was as if he was coated in it, even. Yet strangely, he was hostile to the Death God Cult; he attacked the Envoys of Death, sent from hell to aid them. Worse of all…
He’s allied with the [Saint].
It was a discovery that Martin Kieft was most interested in. In fact, it was a discovery that he thought was something so important that he needed to dig further. After all, his chances of promotion would be based on his performance in this mission. There was no need to worry anyway, as the Bloodied Armor of Despair allowed him to move like an immaterial spirit for short periods of time, and when that ability of the armor was in cooldown, he could turn himself invisible.
It made movement and surveillance possible. It allowed him to get close to the Royal Palace earlier and have a glimpse of the conversation between the [Saint], the strange male member of the White Watch, and the king. Unfortunately, that was as far as he could go, as the princess’s chamber had a special property that prevented entry.
But now, for some reason, the [Saint] and the white watch member moved out. He followed their carriage, though in the middle of it, the magic crystal he used to power his Bloodied Armor of Despair ran low, so he had to pause and replace it briefly. By the time he finished doing that in a secluded area in the city, he took a while to catch up.
Even with his ability to practically glide through the city like a ghost, it took him nearly an hour to get close to Meriel’s Haven. Unfortunately, it was also when his immaterial period ended, and its cooldown began. Naturally, he let it run out when he was in a secluded lane, and when he reformed himself, he quickly used the invisibility to make up for it.
Then, he continued moving, preparing himself for trying to avoid the crowd. Until…
“Hey, buddy.” A man in a white cloak suddenly landed in front of him. His face was hidden by a white mask, and when Martin’s eyes looked up at him, he felt himself flinch back out of nowhere. “What’s with the big sneaky shtick? Can’t say I’m not impressed at the fact that you truly are invisible; even I can’t do that.”
The man then stopped.
“But buddy, I can smell your ugly scent. And I think I can cut you easily with my eyes closed.”
The Death God’s essence. The clothing. It’s him.
“You’re the White Watch.”
Martin revealed himself. The Bloodied Armor of Despair looked like a pure, obsidian, knightly plate armor, with red glowing glyphs and symbols running through it. His helmet’s visor completely covered his face, only allowing his faint green eyes to shine through its slits. Combined with a black greatsword that came with the Bloodied Armor of Despair, he was a terrifying sight to behold.
He remembered how all the time, his opponents would practically flail or fall on their butts should he reveal himself, especially in the darkness of night. He was like a nightmare reincarnated, and Martin always enjoyed watching them squirm as he killed them.
But now, the man of the White Watch looked down on him. It was a strange response, yet it made sense.
After all, he and the [Saint] killed two ministers.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to run, and he knew that since he was detected, that invisibility wasn’t going to cut it. That was why he needed to buy time, enough time to activate his armor’s other skill. Now that he was detected, survival was more important than the mission.
“I wouldn’t call myself ‘the White Watch,’ as my dearest partner is also a member of it,” the man calmly said. “I suppose I do need to identify myself so no one will mistake me for her. So you can refer to me as Sir M.”
“What a farce,” Martin darkly chuckled. “What kind of ego do you have to demand being called ‘Sir’? Preposterous.”
“Well, they all like calling me ‘sir,’ and it is somewhat annoying, but what can I do? Might as well just roll with it. Anyway, this is all pointless.”
Finally, the man pulled out two long rapiers from his cloak, doing it with speed and fluidity that Martin barely saw it for a split second. His blades were so sharp and so well-maintained that even at this distance, Martin saw a glimpse of himself in his armor reflected off the man’s rapiers.
“Please don’t move too much. Clean cuts make for a more dignified and faster death, you know?”
“Don’t flatter yourself too much, as if I’ll let you kill me so easily.” Martin readied his sword in a defensive stance. “If you don’t wish to talk, then come at me. I won’t die to you, White Watch member!”

