Chapter 297
Chapter 297
Chapter 297
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 297 – Lan Qi Is Giving a Speech
“It’s about to start.”
On the road leading toward the central square of the Protos Royal Academy of Magic’s main building, two figures walked side by side, their conversation occasionally breaking the winter night’s silence.
Their clothing differed from that of the academy’s teachers or students, carrying an aura that clearly did not belong here.
Under the darkness, their shadows twisted strangely across the ground, eerie and distorted.
“I still don’t understand why that Rocky McCarthy is taking today’s entrance examination for the Protos Royal Academy of Magic.”
One visitor, wearing a dark gray coat, held an academy map in his hand, admiring the ancient buildings as he walked straight toward their destination.
“He was originally a private tutor for a border viscount’s family. For him to use that as a cover while doing things for his mission—it’s perfectly normal.”
The other figure smiled as he replied.
This batch of newcomers was exceptionally outstanding. As hidden agents of the church, planted within the Protos Empire, none of their true identities as Annihilation Priests had yet been revealed.
Among them, one particular new arrival had even drawn the attention of two of the high priests stationed at the Helrom branch of the Annihilation Order.
Rocky McCarthy.
Unlike another highly talented candidate, Sid, Rocky could be identified without doubt as someone completely opposed to the Goddess of Fate’s church.
Originally, the temple of the Annihilation Order’s knights had three high priests.
Now, only two remained.
If those two had been the ones overseeing last week’s examination, their fate would likely have been the same as High Priest Caius.
Thus, the two completed visitor procedures, and after work that Wednesday, entered the grounds of the Protos Royal Academy of Magic.
Ordinary civilian visitors, without special permissions, could only stay for a limited time and under very strict conditions.
Just watching Rocky McCarthy’s performance would be enough.
Gradually, they reached the academy’s central building and stopped there.
What they hadn’t expected was this—by the time they arrived, the wide plaza before the central building was completely filled with students. The stone steps, side paths, even the benches—all occupied by countless figures.
Their expressions varied. Some were abnormally excited, having claimed the best viewing spots early, constantly chatting with friends who had come along. Others bore mischievous, mocking looks, coming only for the fun of it.
Of course, some students looked indifferent, dismissive even—thinking such events childish and unworthy of their interest.
Yet even they remained, whether out of curiosity, fear of missing anything, or simply because large gatherings naturally drew more people.
As the clock approached seven, the plaza grew ever noisier.
“Someone asked the Ten Seats, but they didn’t say a word—they just left looking really grim.”
“Not everyone, though. It’s said Duchess Chloris’s expression was perfectly normal. So maybe this isn’t a bad thing.”
No one could really predict what was about to happen.
Finally, as the clock struck seven, all emotions—excitement, curiosity, mockery, disdain—were suspended.
Every gaze fixed upon the massive screen, awaiting the broadcast.
And then… confusion.
“?”
“??”
As the screen cycled through classroom feeds, there were no examinees.
A terrifying silence filled the scenes, carrying an eerie weight.
The data panel at the side showed the results: not a single student had chosen to participate in the final session.
The total number of participants had mysteriously dropped by half. The remaining students had all retreated to the resting zones, refusing to continue.
The teachers, too, were dismissed—today’s monthly assessment was ending early.
“Where are the people?”
“What’s going on?”
The plaza erupted in bewilderment, faces frozen as an ominous feeling settled in. Even their heartbeats grew uncomfortable.
Then, finally, a feed switched—to a great auditorium.
Voices thundered inside. Someone was standing on the stage, giving a speech.
The teachers in the seats, stirred by his words, burst into applause and cries of support.
At the center of the grand hall, beneath a soaring dome, his imposing figure stood illuminated. Behind him loomed a monumental mural of a stone gate, as if leading straight to the heavens. Beams of light shone down like dawn, falling across him alone.
He raised his hand, calling for silence.
Soon, the hall was quiet save for the faintest coughs and shifting noises.
“When we act, we must always move forward. We cannot retreat.”
His voice carried a unique power, a gift for emotional resonance that pierced directly into the soul. Each word drew listeners deeper into a dreamlike trance.
“…And now someone asks me, when will you be satisfied? No, we are not satisfied now. Nor will we ever be satisfied—until justice and righteousness surge forth like the mighty waves of the sea, unstoppable and unending.”
His tone grew firm and powerful. He lifted his clenched fist.
“Today, I have a dream. I dream that one day the valleys will rise, the mountains will fall, the crooked paths shall be made straight, and holy light will descend, shining upon the world.”
“Long live McCarthy!”
“Long live McCarthy!”
The teachers all rose to their feet, fists in the air, their voices thunderous.
It was as though an invisible force had erupted within them, their faces shining brighter, fiercer than before, transformed into warriors bound by shared ideals, ready to fight for their dream.
Meanwhile, outside—
In the plaza before the central building—
Silence.
Even the night sky seemed mute.
The younger students gaped, unable to comprehend what they were seeing.
The upperclassmen’s faces reflected every emotion imaginable.
Even the Annihilation priests were stunned.
“…Is this some kind of religious ritual?”
One of them muttered aloud, overheard by a nearby freshman.
“You’re asking me? I’m just a student. I can’t judge. Maybe specialists from the Resurrection Church could give an interpretation.”
The freshman shook his head.
The priest: “…”
“…True enough.”
The high priest nodded.
They dared not reveal that they were from the Resurrection Church.
And they themselves had no evaluation to give.
It was fortunate this man was only fourth-rank. If he were eighth-rank… they couldn’t imagine what kind of evil god he might become.
The upperclassmen, their minds near collapse, finally accepted the truth—even without knowing the details.
This Rocky McCarthy—
Not only had he escaped being hunted by anyone, but that missing half of the students were likely all his doing.
His bounty must now be incalculable.
Even the teachers had fallen completely under his sway.
Though this academy had never had a headmaster, being directly governed by the Imperial Ministry of Education—
From now on, the absolute ruler here would likely be only one man…