"So, what should I do now?" Awkwardly smiling with the two angels, Merka felt his smile was as dry as overcooked turkey.

"I have never woken up this early..."

"What should I do for such a long time from morning till night?"

"I was planning to sleep in and spend the whole day in the forest."

Mammon tapped Merka's head.

"Of course not."

"You can do it for a day, but if you do it every day, it will definitely arouse suspicion from others."

"If it arouses suspicion, it will also deplete your magical power," Mammon calmly said.

"Turing has done many things in the morning," Samael added.

"If you want to pretend, you have to stay in Erisburg at least in the morning."

"Let me think, spell theory, aesthetics, swordsmanship, etiquette theory, and morning practice. Turing's mornings are far from easy."

"We will supervise you on the side, don't worry. Even just pretending will work."

Even someone as calm as Merka turned green at Samael's words.

"Uh... I wonder if the esteemed two senior races can help me pretend to be Turing in the morning?" Merka asked cautiously.

Mammon shook his head.

"No, Oedipus has set limitations for us."

"We can't do those outrageous things."

Mammon grinned with a slightly meaningful smile.

"But if you're afraid of running out of magical power by staying at home,"

"I do have a good idea."

Mammon went to a corner of the room and took out a set of dresses, placing them on the armrest of the washbasin.

"This is already Turing's largest size of clothing. If you wear it, you will definitely be able to disguise yourself as Turing better and reduce the consumption of magical power."

Merka swallowed silently. He really didn't want to crossdress.

"If you don't speak, then it's a yes?"

"Then I'll help you with makeup, you wash your face first."

Merka felt his heart ache.

"Is there really no other way?"

"If reducing magical power consumption is not possible..."

"Is there any way to enhance my magical power... or something like that?"

Merka looked at the swaying black and white lace dress and felt he couldn't make this decision.

Samael, sitting at the dressing table, jumped down, crossed his arms, and responded to Merka with a contemptuous tone, "Have you forgotten? You're the cursed child. Your magical power and skills are inherited from the previous magician through the Holy Relic."

"You can only learn some magic at best. Your magical power cannot be improved through training."

"Besides, there are not so many convenient things. Do you think Turing has put in so much effort..."

"Although that's true, there is indeed a way."

Mammon interrupted Samael's words.

"Right here in the Altria's house, there is something that can quickly enhance your magical power."

"Even Turing made a lot of progress with it."

"Do you want to try it?"

Merka looked at Mammon, whose eyes were unfocused, and instinctively felt a hint of fear.

He didn't know where this fear came from.

"Ah, those memories of red and fire, they almost make up Turing's childhood."

Mammon seemed lost in his memories, and sneered at someone in his memory.

"Hey, Mammon, are you taking him to that {Shira Cave}?"

"As a prank, isn't that going a bit too far?"

Samael approached Mammon and whispered to him.

"That's not a prank."

"If you want to be Turing's boyfriend, you should be prepared to know at least this much about Turing's past."

"This young boyfriend must be confident."

"I am confident that I know enough about Turing."

"If that's the case, go freshen up quickly, I'll be waiting at the door."

Mammon's faint laughter swept through Merka's hair.

Her pure white steps disappeared from Merka's line of sight.

If it wasn't for Merka hearing her say, "I'm about to die."

Would he be able to see the loneliness and pain in her eyes, like parents watching their children leave?

——————————————————————————

"You're so careless! I told you it was going to rain heavily today."

"It's fine if you didn't bring an umbrella, but why didn't you notify me to come pick you up?"

Paris held an umbrella tightly and tried to cover the tall figure of the woman beside him with his small umbrella.

The pouring rain showed no mercy, drenching both of them.

"I'm just happy, that's all." Maria's smiling face was like a shimmering sunshine, unstoppable by the dark clouds in the sky.

Maria and Paris arrived at the entrance of a huge villa and opened the seals pasted on the door, entering the villa together.

People were constantly coming and going inside, some making phone calls, some organizing documents, and others searching for something in the corners of the rooms.

"Counting this one, have we eliminated all the moles planted by Oedipus in Lachésis?"

Maria ran her fingers through her wet hair and asked a woman who was working.

"You're right, Your Excellency. According to Dungremy's memory, there are no other moles within the Church."

"Including the moles' families?" Maria slightly tilted her head and scanned Marseille with focused eyes.

"Including every single family member."

"Even including their pets." Marseille spoke with determination and confidence, her words always filled with unwavering resolve.

"That's good. Temporarily gather them all in the private prison, perhaps they will be useful in the future. We shouldn't let them die so easily." Maria said.

"Understood," Marseille heard the instructions and immediately set off to carry them out.

"Paris, go and gather all the disciples, I want to hold an impromptu meeting."

"Right here?" Paris asked.

"Yes, right here, and we better not waste a single moment," Maria's face seemed to regain the vitality and courage of youth.

"I am going to assign each of you a translation task that could potentially impact the destiny of our nation."