Begin!

"Captain, you don't need any?" "That's right. There's no need to focus your attention on me. I don't need buffs or replenishment." "Captain, I've had professional training. Buffing four people versus five doesn't make much difference to me." "No, I'm not just being polite, nor am I trying to relieve your stress. My spiritual power reserves are more than enough to handle this selection—I genuinely don't need it. Furthermore, let me reiterate: when it comes to deploying squad combat assignments, I'm not in the habit of speaking out of courtesy or making perfunctory remarks." "Understood, Captain." "Finally, let me state my responsibilities and role assignments one last time. First, as captain, whenever I can clearly convey an order, you must obey it unconditionally. "Second: "Ventura, I can take a hit better than you. "Bart, I can fight better than you. "Aisli, if your soul power runs short, the moment I appear beside you, immediately lower your defenses and grant my soul power entry to help you bridge the soul link and channel those monster beasts' assistance. "Mars, once you finish setting up an array, open its core area to me. I can coordinate the array alongside you. "As for Blanche, my apologies, but for the time being, I'm not adept at intermediate or higher-tier healing and buff spells. "However, I can cast low-tier healing and buff spells. When necessary, I will help Blanche support you all—the difference being that I may make up for quality with quantity. "In short, if an issue crops up anywhere and needs reinforcement, I will step in as the opportunity arises. When I intervene in your area of responsibility, please trust my ability, stay focused on doing your own job, and don't let yourself get distracted. "Alright. Is there anything anyone thinks needs adding?" Everyone was stunned for a moment, left somewhat dazed by Karen's deployment of his own role. Soon, they all shook their heads, indicating they had nothing to add. Ventura, Aisli, and Bart were already fired up, their eyes practically glowing. They had already witnessed Karen's strength directly and indirectly, so hearing Karen lay things out like this only filled them with excitement. After all, their goal was to seize the final qualification spots! Mars and Blanche exchanged a glance. Seeing the veteran members' reactions, they figured Karen had to be quite renowned back in their regional district, which gradually won their confidence as well. When team combat was required, no teammate would be foolish enough to complain that their captain wasn't humble enough. In fact, everyone wished for their captain to be exceedingly arrogant. "Then we'll settle on this for now. As for the specifics of our teamwork, we'll hammer them out through practice once the selection begins. "I expect this to proceed round by round. They won't hit us with the highest difficulty right off the bat. After all, what the higher-ups want is to peel the squads away layer by layer, like peeling fruit, until only the two innermost pieces remain. "In theory, we'll have time to get familiar with one another, but I must ask you all to hit your stride from the very first second. "Our squad is excellent, and our composition is well-rounded. But in the end, victory will come down to who can grasp the details better and make fewer mistakes. "Understood?" "Understood!" "Understood!" Karen held out the back of his hand. The others looked at one another and stacked the backs of their hands over his. "I haven't thought of a specific slogan yet, but that's not a problem. When we pass this final selection and enter the Gate of Samsara, we'll still be a squad. We'll have plenty of time along the way to come up with one. "We are hunting hounds, and they are ducks. "They're here to paddle in the water. "We "are here to eat meat!" ... "Has it started?" "It's about to begin, my Lord." "Good." Cardinal Kred handed his cloak to the attendant beside him and walked into the grand hall. Inside, many people were seated. Upon seeing Kred enter, everyone rose. Most of them bowed to him. "Greetings, Cardinal." "Greetings, Cardinal." Kred nodded in acknowledgment. A small number of people whose status was equal or comparable to Kred's, or who shared a close personal rapport with him, greeted him with smiles. Eventually, Kred walked over to the freshly vacated seat in the center of the front row and sat down. "Quite a crowd today," Kred said to the man beside him. The man had golden hair and looked quite young, but subtle details revealed that his true age was far more seasoned, weathered by the years. His name was Moswatt, one of the leaders of the Shadow of Order, in charge of external intelligence and infiltration work. The reason the recent war waged by Order against Samsara had proceeded so smoothly was inseparable from the outstanding preparatory work performed by his department. "Everyone is quite interested in the quality of our church's next generation of youth. Whenever people find the time, they come to take a look. We're growing old, after all; the future of the sacred church rests upon the youth in the end. "Besides, some have clan juniors participating in this selection and naturally want to see how their descendants perform. "Rest assured, however. Punk is an exceptionally steady man. There is no possibility of favoritism." "If I recall correctly, was he not sidelined to garrison Augurev Fortress back then precisely because he was too impartial?" Kred asked. "Yes, you are quite right. But that was merely to protect him. Once this selection concludes, I will pull some strings after a while to transfer him back." "Mm." Kred turned his gaze to the other side. Seated on his other flank was a woman who, like Moswatt, appeared young at first glance, but in truth was well up in years. Her name was Gleriven, the editor-in-chief of *Order Weekly*. Logically speaking, she had no right to sit in the front row here, let alone beside a cardinal. Yet she possessed another identity: she was the person in charge of the non-clerical propaganda apparatus. At the present stage, alongside traditional missionary institutions like chapels, new methods had emerged based on the societal and civilizational landscape that had developed in this era—such as those propaganda organizations that overtly bore no church colors. Their sphere of activity was not confined to the traditional territories of the Church of Order. In fact, their very establishment was targeted at the jurisdictions of other religions, where they promoted the ideology of Order to attract grassroots believers and recruit opposing clergy. Because of this, Gleriven was qualified to sit by Kred's side. "Is there anything interesting?" Gleriven opened her palm and dropped a sapphire. The gem dispersed, projecting a flat display. Above, the large screen was broadcasting footage of the selection at Augurev Fortress, while here, Gleriven manipulated the eyes of the Augurev statue to conduct more detailed and flexible observations. "This squad is very interesting. They hail from York City. They were the earliest to finalize their structure, built upon a core of four with an added array master and a priest." "Oh?" Kred smiled. "Sensible." The candidates were all young, and when a group of youths gathered, problems easily arose—such as instinctively choosing whoever looked strongest when forming a squad. From a leader's perspective, however, while a team certainly needed a truly exceptional individual to serve as the bellwether, what mattered even more was ensuring it remained balanced and stable. Otherwise, the team would lose its reason for existing. Figures higher up the hierarchy, like those seated in the front row alongside Kred, viewed matters from yet another angle. They were not merely assembling teams; they were building platforms. Only a healthy platform could provide exceptional talents with an environment to develop and grow, enabling them to mature to the point of holding their own ground and forging a genuine mutual benefit. "Yes, their objective was clear from the start. They've already won at the starting line," Gleriven remarked. On the screen, Karen was giving a speech to his squad members. There was only video and no audio, however; the distance was too great, and the entire projection relied on the "eyes" of Augurev. Arranging sound would not have been difficult, but it would have required embedding a separate array here, which would disrupt the operation of the fortress selection grounds' arrays and create needless trouble. Even from the visuals alone, however, it was evident that this young captain's words were having a pronounced inspiring effect on his subordinates. "Heh." Watching the scene, Kred couldn't help but chuckle. Gleriven asked, "Are you seeing a reflection of your younger self?" "Mm, a little. What is this young man's name?" A record book flew out from Gleriven's pocket. A quill flipped open the pages and began searching automatically, quickly settling on an answer. It rested on a page featuring a sketch of Karen that looked almost identical to a photograph. "According to the roster, this young man is called Karen. Karen Silva." "Karen?" Kred pondered briefly. "That name sounds somewhat familiar." At that moment, a bishop sitting in the second row stood up, leaned in, and murmured respectfully, "My Lord, you once praised him on Dark Moon Island." This bishop had been a member of the negotiating delegation on Dark Moon Island. He recalled the scene from that night, when the Cardinal had suddenly paused and mentioned the name of a youth named "Karen" to everyone. "Oh, I remember now." In truth, Bishop Kred possessed an excellent memory—an exceptionally good one. The only reason the name Karen had been hazy to him was that he had never considered it something he needed to remember. Back then, he had simply found it amusing that a priest named Karen had disciplined a junior of the Gatekeeper in strict accordance with the *Code of Order*, forcing the Gatekeeper to leave mid-conversation to personally handle such squabbles between children. Even so, when top-tier leadership uttered an offhand remark, subordinates would construct countless associations around it. Most importantly, subordinates dared not ask, much less gamble on, whether the leader was dropping a hint or merely joking. Bishop Worflen had initially intended to throw a minor tantrum by deliberately omitting Karen's name, hoping to see which prominent figure might come pleading on his behalf. But after Kred made that comment, Bishop Worflen not only took the initiative to add Karen's name, he even leaked the exam prompts in advance. Gleriven tore out the sheet bearing Karen's details and handed it to Kred. This was the first time Kred had formally reviewed Karen's profile. "God's Servant?" Gleriven smiled. "He might just be rather lazy. Such occurrences aren't uncommon." Cardinal Kred said, "There must be order and protocol." Beside him, Moswatt spoke up. "I will convey this to the relevant departments and have them launch a rectification campaign targeting this phenomenon." Gleriven chimed in, "Indeed. That will ensure our church can gain the clearest possible grasp of our internal strength distribution and development. It ought to be promoted across all regional districts simultaneously." "Mm." Kred nodded. "His resume is quite brief." "Yes, rather brief. That implies he might be a genuine genius." "A genuine genius, heh. A story once circulated from the Temple of Order. Long ago, a young genius openly contradicted a Temple Elder, infuriating the elder to the point of raising his hand several times, though in the end, he withdrew it." "I've heard that tale as well," Moswatt said. "Taking that story as our backdrop, let us see how this young man named Karen performs. Are there any other squads worth noting?" "Yes, there are two others: Squad 1 and Squad 7..." Gleriven began providing Kred with a detailed introduction. When Kred closed his eyes slightly, Gleriven recognized that the Cardinal's interest had waned, and she fell silent. Kred tapped his fingers lightly against the armrest of his chair and said, "I've noticed a problem." Both Moswatt and Gleriven picked up their notebooks, prepared to take notes. "The divisions and distances between our various systems are somewhat too great. Perhaps this preserves their respective specialization and reliability, but to a certain extent, it has led to an imbalance in mutual communication, especially among the youth. "Each system, and each department within every system, develops and passes down traditions within its own small clique over the long term. Given enough time, all sorts of problems are bound to arise. "When former High Priest Rasma was in office, he emphatically pointed out that the dynastic familialization of departmental succession not only stagnates departmental quality, but also weakens the Holy See's direct leadership. "During the last roundtable conference, High Priest Norton also underscored the issue of organizational familialization within the church and issued an important directive: if this phenomenon persists, it will sap our church's forward momentum. "Therefore, I propose that joint selections across all regional districts need not be bound by rigid forms. They could be held annually. That way, eligible youths can get to know and understand one another, while also being granted a second chance to choose. "I just looked: youths in this age bracket hold ranks that are either alternates or interns, without having formally entered departmental employment. They should be granted another chance to choose, shouldn't they?" "I understand your meaning, and I will pass it along," Moswatt said. "Once next year's operational charter is drafted, it will be submitted to your desk." Gleriven added, "Organizing the next event will certainly have to wait until next year, but granting these youths an opportunity to choose again doesn't have to wait. It can be advanced right after this selection." Moswatt agreed, "That is an excellent proposal." Kred looked between the two of them and smiled. "Neither of you heads that sort of department, so you don't have to offend anyone. Easy for you to say." Moswatt and Gleriven both smiled. Indeed, reassigning the carefully groomed heirs of various systems and local departmental factions would inevitably meet tremendous resistance. It was a thoroughly thankless, offending task. Gleriven suggested, "Perhaps we could adjust our thinking. There is a place capable of accommodating them that can also be disbanded as circumstances warrant. Both sides would find it easier to accept—a compromise, so to speak." Moswatt said, "I can guess which place you mean." Kred said, "Then have Foden come by my office tomorrow." Foden Elrod—the Supreme Whipbearer of the Whip of Order. ... All the squads were formed. The final six individuals were automatically grouped into a single squad. Philomena was among that final team. They were the last group to collect their squad number: "20." As they marched down the center, the members of all the other squads flanking the path watched them pass. Karen lowered his gaze, choosing not to look. He was the one who had shut Philomena out of his squad, but he took no pleasure in gloating, let alone taunting or provoking her. There was no point. Punk stood atop the raised platform at the front, looking out over all the squads before him. "Let me reiterate: do not force yourselves to endure beyond your limits. Staying alive matters more than anything." With that, Punk raised his hand and shouted, "Let the final selection begin!" The array masters began chanting, and a series of mechanical groans echoed from within the colossal statue of Augurev. Immediately, Karen noticed the flagstones beneath his squad's feet extending outward. The distance between each squad broadened steadily, expanding until the area measured roughly half the size of a football field before coming to a halt. A black radiance shimmered along the perimeter, forming a dividing barrier so the squads would not interfere with one another. "Begin!" Ventura immediately moved to the outermost perimeter. Since "front" and "back" were temporarily indistinct, he began patrolling along the outer ring. Bart followed in his footsteps, circling along an inner perimeter. Further inward walked Blanche. In the opening stage, the array master and the summoner wouldn't need buffs, so her primary task was ensuring she could cast enhancements on the two defenders along the outermost line at a moment's notice. Mars began setting up an array. Karen appeared beside him and asked, "What array are you preparing to lay down?" This couldn't have been settled beforehand, as they hadn't known how large the arena would be. Mars replied, "The Kendos Threefold Defensive Array." "I've memorized it. Hand me some materials; I'll help you set it up." Springing into action alongside Squad 3 at the very first moment were Squad 1 and Squad 7. Right then, a black vortex materialized above each squad's arena. From within came the roar of beasts and the clatter of iron cages. Behind the black vortex lay what was presumably the fortress dungeon. Punk's voice reverberated across every squad's designated ground: "Target of the first trial round: void illusionary beasts, Maika. They will enter the grounds in ten minutes. Everyone, prepare yourselves." Maika were illusionary beasts bred within the void. Maika was not an individual name, but the name of an entire species; they were far inferior to the illusionary beast Compasini, for only an entity of that caliber was worthy of holding a distinct, proper name. Ventura promptly positioned himself diagonally beneath the black vortex. Behind him, spaced at intervals, stood Bart and Blanche. Karen said to Mars, "I don't believe the first round's targets will be able to breach our outer perimeter. Keep focusing on setting up the array with peace of mind." "Understood, Captain!" Karen immediately ordered Aisli: "Aisli, summon the weakest, most useless monster beast phantom you have right now. Have it fly into the vortex to die, and while it's at it, scout what sort of trial targets will be deployed in the subsequent rounds. "Old habits die hard—let's steal a look at the exam questions first!"