“...That’s raw.”

  “Exactly!”

  “It’s raw.”

  “And it tastes good!”

  “...But...why raw?”

  Marcus stared at the food on his plate with slight disgust. Now, while Almarche wasn’t exactly an ocean-facing settlement, there were nearby coastal towns just ten miles eastward.

  Hence, some traders regularly bought fresh fish using high-speed carriages drawn by land dragons—another new development that he was unfamiliar with—allowing fresh fish to be sold here.

  And well, this town was apparently a ‘’Kemono’-style restaurant, one of the few establishments owned by the local demihuman population.

  Specifically, it was run by a bunch of feline demihumans who traced their origin from the eastern continent of Salea, the land where elves, beastkin, and other races originated.

  ‘Kemono’ itself simply referred to a unified nation of the beastkin people, but apparently, a few hundred years ago, it collapsed into a bunch of warring states, which was why many of them were fleeing to the western, human-dominated continent of Astrea.

  The food in front of him, ‘sashimi’, was quite alien. It was a bunch of raw slices of fish, both salmon and tuna, arranged with a dipping soy sauce.

  There was also this ‘sushi’ thing on another plate, which was essentially raw slices of fish wrapped with rice, and this thin black thing he didn’t even bother to ask about.

  “Sir Marcus,” Stella expertly used two sticks to eat them. “I swear, it’s surprising how someone like you can look like a clueless boy when dealing with simple things.”

  “Tch. I need a fork.”

  “Preposterous! You must learn how to use those chopsticks!”

  “I have to eat raw fish, and I have to do it with sticks?”

  “Yes.”

  Reluctantly, he picked up the ‘chopsticks’ and began playing with them.

  Marcus never really travelled or ate high dining back in the olden days. He was from a lower-class family after all. He wasn’t a noble, nor was he from a rich family; he was just a commoner boy ready to be picked up by the Imperial Army.

  Still, he was quite sure that expensive, high-quality food was cooked. Most of all, he was quite sure that it wouldn’t be ‘ruined’ if he used a fork—!

  “Wait,” Marcus finally managed to pick up one of the slices of sashimi using his chopsticks. “...No way.”

  He felt a measure of giddiness, proud that he could do what Stella could do with her chopsticks, though his face didn’t show it. He followed her instructions, dipping it in the soy sauce before eating it.

  He questioned why people cooked fish after that first bite. Within the next few minutes, he was scarfing down the food on his side of the table.

  Raw food worked. How? He didn’t know. Would he have a stomachache after this? Would he die shitting out his innards to a terrible bout of dysentery? Who knew—this shit was good.

  “Fuck, I need more.” Marcus lightly banged his fist on the table, his plates empty while Stella was hardly finished with half of her food. “Damn it. Why did no one tell me this exists?”

  “Well, that’s why you have me now,” Stella smugly smiled. “Please enjoy. I’ll pay for it all!”

  “Don’t cry on me if you regret this.”

  “I would never, Sir Marcus.”

  And so, with the approval to splurge using someone else’s wallet, Marcus wasted no time buying every dish from the restaurant’s menu.

  The restaurant itself was struggling due to repeated attempts at harassment from the count and his men for months, but now, with Marcus coming back again and again for more orders, the waitress and the staff practically had tears in their eyes.

  When he was done, though, Stella was pale. A tiny whimper came from her.

  “Y-you can eat that much?”

  “Got a problem?”

  “Nothing! I’m glad you enjoyed it!”

  Ah…yes, this has got to be it. True heaven. Just a while ago, I was in hell; now I’m eating food.

  Real food.

  That’s crazy.

  He was soon cackling like a madman, satisfied with his overpriced meal.

  Paid for by an elf princess, of course. Everything truly tasted better when free.

  Once Stella and Marcus returned to their hotel, they immediately got to work in Marcus’s room.

  Strewn on the table were the documents that he had retrieved from the count, which they were analyzing.

  Within an hour or two, Marcus and Stella finally noted down a target list, information about them, their locations, and their connections to the count.

  “And it all leads to Marquise Hansa Nelson, lord of the Margraviate of Canville.”

  Marcus scowled as he looked at his list. It included three prominent nobles, but the most important one was Marquise Hansa Nelson.

  He was trading massively with Count Talsby. Though he didn’t supply him with slaves, he did supply the count with shipments of weapons, armor, and most importantly, alchemical powders, reagents, runestones, and ‘detergent’—whatever the hell that is.

  Most of those goods ended up in the cult’s hands.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  It seemed like the deal the count made with the Death God Cult wasn’t something isolated in Almarche. Worst of all, this was only with one chapter of the Death God Cult.

  Marquise Hansa Nelson and the members of his network, like Count Talsby, seemed to be only conducting business with the ‘Ministry of Fervent Service’ led by Archbishop Hector Langley. They were based in the ‘Parish of Unseen Eventualities,’ which Marcus destroyed.

  That essentially implied that there were other ‘Ministers’ that they knew nothing about.

  The Death God Cult feels like a mirror organization of the Holy Church.

  The fact that they used ‘chapters’, ‘archbishops’, ‘reverends’, and even called their bases ‘parishes’ meant that the cult was indeed angling to be a sort of replacement for the Holy Church.

  Except, instead of serving the Goddess of Life, they devoted themselves to the Death God.

  Pesky little rats.

  “At the very least, we successfully eliminated the Ministry of Fervent Service,” Marcus said. “We even found out who they are connected to, but there’s nothing here indicating anything about the other parts of the cult.”

  “Ministry of Fervent Service,” Stella scowled. “It’s such a strange name, but…I suppose, after I fought that man, he did seem a bit obsessed with diligently serving the Death God.”

  “Expect more of that type of crazy then. Tch.”

  After double-checking the info they gathered, Marcus then grabbed one of the high-quality maps of the Astrean continent that he acquired from the cultists, laying it flat on the table.

  It was strange to look at it. Back then, the Holy Astrean Empire ruled from sea to sea; now, there are multiple countries on its former lands.

  In the southeast of the continent was the Kingdom of Valeon, its current location. To the southwest sat the Kingdom of Louria. At the center was the massive Ridian Empire, which bordered almost all countries in Astrea.

  Up north, another equally massive nation, one that had territory on both the east and west coasts of the continent like Ridia, was the Kingdom of Sordale, Stella’s homeland.

  On the farthest west, bordering both Ridia and Sordale, was the former Imperial Capital of the Holy Astrean Empire, now known as the Holy City of Olstadt.

  All in all, it was clear that everything had truly changed. There were now countries in place of the old empire. He had such a large landmass to scour.

  And I have to start somewhere.

  He stabbed a thin dagger straight at the heart of the Margraviate of Canville, northwest of Almarche.

  “The plan is simple. We’ll pay a brief visit to our good friend here,” Marcus declared. “Then, once the buggers on my current list are dealt with, we continue northwards to Sordale.”

  He turned to Stella with a calm pose.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “Ideally, I’d like to simply rush to Sordale,” she mumbled. “But, I am more worried about what the remnants of the Ministry of Fervor Service will do. I’m onboard with this plan, Sir Marcus.”

  “Good to hear.” Marcus pulled out his dagger before folding the map on his table. “Now, onto our next problem—you.”

  “Do I…do I look good?”

  “The question is supposed to be, ‘Do I look human or not?’”

  “Sir Marcus!”

  “And yes, you do look good.”

  Stella huffed a bit as she looked away, while Marcus checked his pocket watch.

  Apparently, she had a spell that utilized light magic to modify how her head and face looked. It was somewhat similar to the effects of her enchanted cloak’s hood.

  It had the same utility—to prevent people from realizing that a goddamned princess from Sordale walked amongst them.

  Except she was overusing her cloak’s hood while in public at this point. To make her less suspicious, she decided to cast an illusion spell that changed her face a bit, removing her knife-ears and making her beauty more human-like.

  Such a spell was usually maintained by Siris while Stella traveled, but due to her familiar’s temporary absence, she had to rely mostly on her cloak.

  Until now.

  Even Marcus would do the same in her position, to be quite frank. He imagined that keeping a spell that made him ‘look normal’ was quite tiring.

  But, now, at least, she looked like a passable adventurer to Marcus. She pinned a badge issued by the adventurer’s guild to its members on her dress, indicating silver-rank status, before walking in Marcus’ direction.

  “We should be able to grab a few quests this way,” Stella cheerily said. “I can’t wait to prove myself to you, so shall we go now?

  “You have four hours before sundown.” Marcus closed his pocket watch. “Preferably, I’d like to see every domain of your capabilities.”

  “I’m quite good at magecraft and swordplay. We can grab quests related to that.”

  “That’s up for me to decide.”

  “Uh…well…yeah, you are my teacher after all. Sorry for getting too excited.”

  “No worries. Just don’t expect this one to be a complete breeze favoring you.”

  “I understand.”

  The two slowly neared the Almarche’s branch office of the Adventurer’s Guild. Their plan was quite simple. If they were going to test Stella's abilities, why not make some coins on the way?

  Clearing a bunch of quests would also mean that Marcus would have a chance to potentially register with the guild if need be. While he’d like to largely focus on just cleaning up the Death Cult, he had to have a damned life after all this.

  He didn’t have any personal documents, ‘IDs’, or even something as simple as a certificate of live birth, which was apparently something that most countries issued whenever a baby was born within their borders.

  In any case, that meant he was an undocumented, stateless individual. As expected of some bastard who crawled out of a portal from hell.

  If I get myself recorded in the guild, I should be able to work my way up to getting other documentation.

  Marcus grumbled about this part the most. He did have a badge in his wallet that declared his identity as a soldier—and thus, proof that he was a citizen of the Astrean Empire.

  But after Stella gave it a tentative check, she declared that most authorities will just find it as a child’s joke at best and fraud at worst. It was why it was largely Stella who dealt with guards, checkpoints, and everything else.

  She had her papers; Marcus didn’t.

  Walking into the branch office, immediately, heads began to turn. Stella mindlessly approached the receptionist on the counter, while Marcus stared at the crowd that had all stopped just to ogle at her.

  A vein immediately popped in his head.

  To think that they thought removing her hood so she wasn’t suspicious would reduce the eyes trained on them.

  He should have told her to just keep her hood up if she can’t fudge her beauty down to what the average maidservant had.

  “Welcome! Welcome! Oh, a silver rank, eh?” The receptionist quickly rushed to greet Stella. “Are you perhaps from the Holy Church?”

  “Yes, I’m a [Paladin], just passing through.” Stella’s smile was so radiant that the light she emitted practically melted the receptionist. “Say, would you please point out to me where the quest board is? My partner and I over there are planning to take a few quests.”

  “I already took my pick,” Marcus blankly said as he went to the counter, placing two silver-rank rated quests and one gold-rank rated quest. “Please approve it.”

  Get us the fuck out of here now before I start punching people.

  A look of horror appeared on the receptionist’s face after he did a double-take at the quests that Marcus picked. At the same time, a flurry of disapproval from the adventurers bombarded Marcus from the rear.

  "Ya bleedin' muppet! Who gave ya the wink to drag the Lady Paladin into that death trap, eh?!"

  "If you’re planning to off yourself, don’t you dare drag her down with ya!"

  “Mate, you prolly ain’t even on the books! Ain’t got no rank badge either!”

  "Them young'uns think they're real hot stuff these days. Why, back in my day, I'd wrangle slimes first before chasin' after any loco quests."

  Why are they—? Ah, I almost forgot…

  He had his [Deception] skill on. To the veteran adventurers, he was just some lowly level 10 [Scout], and he just took a quest involving the elimination of cave hydras, a gold-ranked threat, while dragging a silver-ranked [Paladin] with him.

  It was instinctual for him. He liked to deceive his enemies into underestimating him so they’d be easier for him to kill. Just standard tactics and all that.

  But, sometimes, deceiving people did come with its share of troubles.