In the Royal Palace study, two old men met once again.

The King set down his quill, lifting his head from endless government affairs. Across from him, the Cardinal also put down his teacup.

The King spoke first. "Much business these days. Let's just cover the key points."

"Same for me," the Cardinal maintained his kindly demeanor.

"Any updates on the Tainted Crystals?" The King prodded at the Cardinal's wound.

"Can't say it's good or bad..." Whenever this topic came up the Cardinal's face soured. "Outwardly banned but still circulating secretly in small circles. Lust, though last of the Seven Deadlies, remains the hardest to root out."

"I'll aid you if needed," the King responded flatly as if having expected this.

"Very well, next is the other most pressing issue. The Saintess seat has remained vacant over a month now. What are your plans?" The Cardinal questioned.

The King answered as if hearing a joke. "Saintess is the Holy See's business. What's it got to do with me?"

"You know best how involved you are," the Cardinal blandly retorted. "How will the next one be selected? Where will candidates come from? Can't keep choosing from the four major Ducal families of each territory right? Wake up Leopold! We face grave danger. The chances of Western and Northern rebellion grow daily. More human foes will make us laughingstocks to the demons!"

"What else can be done? Minor nobles and commoners cannot shoulder such holy offices. Only exceedingly gifted humans of lofty bloodlines may birth suitable Saints." Displeasure at the situation showed through the King's helpless response.

The Cardinal instantly counterattacked. "Like for example, your granddaughter, Leopold."

"Itching for a fight Ramista?" Displeasure showed on the King's face.

The Cardinal simply smiled even more kindly. "So even you get mad. I'd thought you emotionless since inheriting the crown."

The royal anger faded as quick as it came. Unwilling to discuss further, he simply said "The capital Academy will soon enroll students. You handle it."

"Not a bad approach. If all else fails later we can discuss more." The Cardinal downed his remaining tea and left the study.

"See yourself out," came the King's indifferent voice behind him.

\---

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At the no-man's Stucar Plains, two other white-haired old fellows secretly conversed.

"How go your preparations? I've seen the Royal Overseers arrive already." The Northern Duke asked.

"Supplies and provisions all set. The Overseers huh. As expected, that Leopold cur didn't fall for it so easily." The Western Duke lamented.

The Northern Duke shrugged. "They do come under the noble pretense of refereeing a 'civilized' war between nobles. Can't complain there."

The Western Duke gritted his teeth. "Then we take out the Overseers first."

"Sure. Our armies face off openly. The Overseers will naturally seek some high vantage to watch the battle. We send fast cavalry to grab them directly." The Northern Duke made a pincer motion with his hands.

"No issue. When do we act?"

"2nd of September, my poor sister's birthday."

"Deal struck!" Two fists bumped in the air.

\---

Murphy returned to 2 Clyster Street. Byron was sword dancing in the yard. The tonsured Lambert pruned plants nearby. Pepe practiced magic as the golden retriever frolicked randomly causing trouble.

Seeing the harmonious scene made Murphy so touched he nearly shed tears. In just two months here he had built this huge foundation. If not for the total lack of normal people he could happily sink into this life.

Murphy went up and stopped Byron's sword practice. Mastery of inborn skills could not improve anyway.

"What is the armament status of your skeletal legions now?" Not minding the fallen priest beside them, the two spoke normally.

After over a month together even the sheltered Lambert had discovered the others' identities. Murphy knew Lambert knew but neither side openly acknowledged it. To humans, these apparent cultists posed far greater danger than demons from ten years hence.

The thief aboard, Lambert could only distance himself somewhat when they set sail, even though he now counted himself as one of Murphy's men.

Hearing them while engrossed in plant pruning, displeasure shot through Lambert's heart. "Do you all not care one iota about me anymore? Fallen priests are still priests!"

Angered, he quickly strode over, settling around fifteen meters from Murphy and Byron to focus harder on his gardening. Out of earshot means it didn't happen!

Murphy looked at Lambert askance. "What's eating him?"

Byron said blankly. "Perhaps Your Majesty spoke too loudly."

"Oh forget him then, continue." Murphy dismissed.

"Very well. Skeletal forces in Reed territory have recovered to ten thousand troops with equip provisions ongoing."

"The five hundred shotgun corps still trains daily outside the city."

"Mm. Have Alaric raise shotguns to one thousand men. We'll start selling the rest."

"Understood."

"How fares the experiment?"

"Shotguns significantly damage skeletons below level ten. But with protective Slime coating even level five sustains only light injury."

"Not bad, roughly as expected. After all shotguns are just another human harming tool."

After Byron, Murphy went to the intently gardening Lambert. Seeing the fallen priest wholly devoted to plants brought a smile unbidden to Murphy.

"Stop pretending. You've had it good recently right? Watering, weeding daily, making dog food meals. I've not mistreated you at all."

Lambert wheeled indignantly. "I want to return to the Church!"

"I checked around. The Holy See wants you arrested. And the Western Duke sends people searching for you too. Want to try leaving City of Gath?"

"On second thought I'm suddenly unwilling to go back to the Church," Lambert shivered.

"Don't rush it. I heard the Western Duke wants an audience with you, this living heretic. No clue why. I'll probe the safety angle. If it checks out you can meet him once."

Before Lambert could respond Murphy had turned to the magic practicing pair.

"Anything new?"

Pepe pointed to the withered plants beneath him. "Still needs more power."