Chapter 262
Chapter 262
Chapter 262
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 262 – How Many Points Did Lan Qi Get
The sun outside gradually rose higher.
As the test papers on the council table of the Main Assembly Hall were filtered further down, it only became clearer that the qualified ones from before weren’t considered the worst.
They were all notorious villains with some fame within the Empire.
One paper scored 69 points, belonging to “Meat Scraps” Graf. He had a massive body, covered in cuts and brand marks, with a deep knife scar on the corner of his mouth. He was a torturer and butcher, capturing humans, dismembering them, and selling their body parts on the black market—though no direct evidence existed.
Still, in the district where he resided, the rate of disappearances was far above normal. Rumors spread that in his dark chambers he subjected victims to unimaginable tortures. Brutal by nature, his interest in pain far surpassed any concern for wealth.
The next qualified, high-scoring paper was 78 points, belonging to “Poison Fang” Walter, a thin, pale man with a black eyepatch over his left eye.
“On his right hand he wears several rings laced with venom. A master of poison who lives in the border slums of the Imperial capital, infamous for manufacturing and selling deadly toxins,” one of the high priests explained.
“They say he tests his new poisons on innocent vagrants. Cold-blooded, cunning, with no regard for life.”
“This personality is quite good, isn’t it?”
Without much debate, Caius the High Priest set his paper and dossier into the “qualified” pile.
“Not a single Sealer?”
Another high priest flipped through the already-qualified dossiers. Their professions varied, yet not one looked like a sealing mage akin to the Annihilation Archbishop.
“Sealers are far too rare. Even in our branch, aside from the Annihilation Archbishop and the Holy Son of Annihilation, there aren’t many who truly master sealing magic.”
And even among those compatible with sealing-type spells, mages who specialized in sealing others often had severe psychological and mental issues.
Nevertheless, most evil Sealers would be drawn toward the Annihilation Archbishop regardless.
As they spoke, Caius the High Priest suddenly picked up a test paper that made his eyes pause for a moment.
It was a score of 91 points. Caius quickly located the corresponding dossier—
“Eye Collector” Tors: a scholar wearing multi-layered spectacles, his pockets always stuffed with eyes from various creatures. His gaze glimmered with a light seemingly not of this world. He believed eyes were the windows to the soul, capturing creatures to extract and study their eyes. In towns, periods of sudden blindness epidemics would occur, victims discarded in the streets. And though the timing placed him nearby, he always had a perfect alibi.
This was the highest score so far.
“He’s faced many accusations, but never once has any been proven. That alone shows his craftiness.”
Without much debate, his file too was placed in the “qualified” pile.
Flipping further—
After ten more minutes of searching—
Finally, another paper rivaled that level.
“Blood Throat” Gia: tall and thin, elegantly dressed, with a bright red scarf beneath her collar. She was a notorious singer. Audiences of her performances often tore open their own throats or bit their tongues to death in bizarre frenzies. Yet she denied ever using sonic magic, instead claiming pride in her artistic talent.
Her score: 85 points, also very high.
“She has formidable combat strength, and her methods are secretive. Likely at the sixth tier, comparable to us High Priests,” Caius remarked.
Innate talent and combat power were also bonus factors, directly linked to the final examination.
Gradually, the scattered documents on the round table thinned out.
Finally, everything was neatly sorted into “qualified” and “unqualified” piles—except for a few odd cases left separately.
Caius rested his chin in thought, seemingly waiting for the other two High Priests to finish reviewing the last files before seeking their opinions.
Though Caius was the chief examiner for all three stages, the other two priests, who were assisting, could provide valuable perspectives.
“These two—take a look.”
Caius spread out two papers and dossiers on the table.
The first had a score not too high—only 62 points.
It belonged to a woman named Sid.
She had full marks on objective questions, but left most of the essay sections blank except for a few conceptual answers. In short, she still passed.
“Keep an eye on whether she’s a spy from the Church of the Goddess of Fate. Some questions cannot be answered by someone overly righteous—she left more blanks where such gaps would show. Perhaps leaving them blank was a strategy to avoid exposing herself.”
One priest murmured thoughtfully, though Sid’s dossier seemed authentic, showing no sign of forgery.
“If she is indeed an infiltrator, all the better. Once we confirm her identity, well, I needn’t say what awaits her.”
“I think the same.”
With confirmation, Caius placed her into the “qualified” pile.
However—
When their eyes fell upon the paper beneath Sid’s—they froze.
Almost doubting their own sight.
This one scored an outrageous 98 points.
It belonged to a young man named Rocky, from Lilorom City in the southwestern province. His dossier was clean, a native-born Imperial.
His understanding of the Church of Resurrection was astonishingly deep.
The conceptual questions were nearly perfect, and the essays flawless.
“The examiner didn’t make a mistake?” one priest frowned.
“All papers below 60 or above 90 points are double-checked by at least two graders,” Caius replied coldly.
That meant both examiners had given him the same score.
“And I checked personally—no mistakes. His writing is grand, yet the words reek of one thing alone: evil.”
“For example, look at this essay question—”
【Suppose you capture a priest of the Church of the Goddess of Fate. Explain how you would force them into submission.】
This was considered a low-value question, since the answer was simple.
The usual responses: extreme physical and psychological torment, execution threats, or leveraging family and friends.
But this one was different.
He wrote: “Convert them with love, so that they sincerely join our side.”
And he provided a detailed plan: he would train three other cultists with talent for torture to become professional inquisitors. After giving the captive a greeting of “torture without interrogation,” he would offer them a first choice: to converse with him sincerely, or spend four days and nights with the inquisitors instead.
“Indeed, true conversion yields far more than extracted intel,” one priest murmured.
“But its difficulty is immense—few have such eloquence, charisma, and judgment.”
“His evil nature is beyond doubt.”
The two priests flipped through the rest of Rocky’s essays, increasingly convinced the high score was genuine. His ideology was starkly opposed to the Church of Fate.
“Where did he lose points then?”
Looking through his conceptual and essay questions, nothing seemed amiss.
“Look earlier,” Caius said.
Turning back to the first page, they found the deduction.
It was a multiple-choice question—
“Select the name of the Archbishop of Annihilation.”
Rocky had left it blank.
“No way he actually forgot Lord Askson’s name? Even a random guess would give a one-in-three chance,” one priest remarked with regret.
“Heh. Not a big problem. He scored full marks elsewhere. Perhaps he simply ran out of time.”
Exams often saw candidates skipping uncertain questions to return later—only to run out of time.
“This boy’s qualification is undisputed. Even if his background seems ordinary, his nature is obvious. Yet his personal strength is weak. I fear he may not pass the final test.”
“Weakness has its uses. He won’t stir too much trouble. Even if he fails, we can still keep him under our control. At the very least, we cannot allow him to fall to the Ba'tian Branch.”
“This time we’ve secured some excellent talent. The Ba'tian Branch will be left with the scraps.”
The only risk was an overpowered candidate who could derail the entire assessment plan—but so far, none fit that danger. Each had their own flaws and shortcomings.
After confirming that all files in the “qualified” folder had unanimous approval, Caius rose, gathering the weighty documents.
“Then the written exam passers are confirmed. This afternoon we begin the official second and final examinations.”
He handed the stack to the recording priest across the room to finish the remaining procedures.
“Tomorrow’s update will be longer. I’ll finish coding out this whole event in one go!Also, a recommendation—my fellow patient’s book. He’s in the bed next to mine, and the doctor always tells him to keep writing for observation.”
(End of Chapter)