The Finest Arch Priest

After fully realizing what kind of useless teammates he had around him, Fang Li finally grasped the right approach and became the ruler of the party in the most ruthless way possible.

Otherwise, those people would probably keep dragging him into disasters and leave him traumatized for the rest of his life.

It had always been Fang Li who left others traumatized for life. There was absolutely no way anyone else could leave him with psychological scars.

In that case, he could only borrow one of Megumin's sayings.

"Rather than die myself, I'd rather let someone else die."

Now, Fang Li had demonstrated it perfectly.

Thus, Fang Li led four teammates who were sobbing and hanging their heads as they trailed behind him to the abandoned ancient city.

Ahead of them, the castle gates radiated an ancient, weathered air. They were covered in the marks of time, like the entrance to some age-old ruin—solemn and terrifying.

Looking at those solemn yet terrifying gates, Fang Li clenched his hand around a sword.

It was an utterly ordinary one-handed sword.

No magic had been applied to it, nor was it some rare, top-tier weapon. It truly was just an extremely ordinary sword.

Yet, as he held it, Fang Li felt a familiarity as though it had accompanied him through countless years, and the corner of his lips rose.

"As expected, learning those basic skills was the right choice."

The reason for that feeling was naturally the effect of the skill Fang Li had learned.

—One-Handed Sword.

A skill that allowed its user to wield sword-type weapons more proficiently.

Once someone learned such a skill, it did not mean they would suddenly comprehend all sorts of advanced sword techniques without instruction and become a swordsmanship master overnight.

Skills that improved weapon handling merely