Congratulations on Passing the Test

"High Priest, everything is ready. We can depart at any time." "Understood." Facing the inquiry from his captain of the guard, Mobiten Benda, the High Priest gave no definitive reply. Just then, a black crow flew over from afar. Passing through the layers of blockades before the temple, the black crow shifted shapes from time to time; clearly, the crow was merely an outward appearance used to conceal its true form. As it neared, the crow landed, transformed into a cloud of black mist, and quickly condensed into the form of a girl. She had an extremely slender figure with the alluring charm of a water serpent, especially her eyes, which looked like a pair of purple amber. Mobiten knew her identity: Daina Kaff, the High Priest's foster daughter. It was said that her father had once been one of the followers by the High Priest's side, only he had already passed away. Had he still been alive, his status might not have been inferior to that of the current Whip-Wielder, Foden. Daina dropped to one knee and reported, "High Priest, preparations are complete." "Mm." This time, the High Priest moved, descending the steps. Today, he did not wear casual clothes, nor the traditional priestly robes, but the ceremonial vestments worn only during sacrificial rituals. Black remained the dominant color, trimmed with gold and silver patterns, exuding an air of poised grandeur. The High Priest stepped into the carriage. Mobiten followed inside, while Daina remained outside. The High Priest looked at her and smiled. "Come along." Daina immediately jumped onto the carriage. Soon, the massive phantom silhouette of a giant turtle appeared beneath the carriage. The carriage floated up, lifting the guards flanking both sides into the air along with it. "Have you been doing well over at your Uncle Daan's?" the High Priest asked the young girl beside him. Daina shook her head. "I didn't get to join the war against Samsara. It practically choked me up with frustration." "You—you really take after your father on this point. Whenever he missed out on some excitement, he'd beat his chest and stomp his feet." "High Priest, I just feel so bored. Over the past few years, whenever I begged you and those uncles, you all just told me to study, study, and study some more. I listened dutifully, but now that I've grown so big, I really can't hold back anymore." "You want to go outside and see the sights?" "Yes." "Actually, after seeing the sights outside, you'll only want to come home even more." "High Priest..." "If you really can't stand being bored, go find Foden. Keep him company and catch ants with him." "But Uncle Foden doesn't catch ants anymore. Last time, I caught some rare ants in the cracks of volcanic rock behind the camp and wanted to give them to him, only to find out that the secretary who used to help him collect ants was already gone." "Oh, is that so?" "Yes. When I asked Augie where she went, Augie answered: 'Tastes like chicken.'" "Perhaps your Uncle Foden has moved on to a new hobby." "So, High Priest, please..." "All right, I promise you. Wherever you want to go and play, just submit an application to Mobiten. Once he agrees and arranges the escorts, you may go. But there is one thing you must remember: if you sneak out even once, going out again next time will be completely out of the question." "Out of the question? But I'm going to grow up eventually, hehehe." An innocent, charming smile spread across Daina's face, but the High Priest's next words made her smile freeze slightly: "In our eyes, growing up safely and living out this lifetime is the greatest solace to your father. For that, we could even create an inner world just for you." Daina fell quiet and spoke no more. An inner world was equivalent to a colorful... cage. The carriage carrying the High Priest flew before the Gate of Order. Below it lay the encampment of the knight order. At this moment, the knights below were fully deployed in armor, all branches ready for battle. War machines were arrayed, and the war monster beasts had their first layer of chains unlocked. Even from high above, the thick aura of slaughter could be clearly felt. This was a newly transferred knight order that had just completed a rotation. Its commander was Daan Ray Ropp. After the new High Priest took office, he reassigned Daan—who had always been by his side handling his personal security—to the knight order as vice commander. Just last month, the previous commander retired, and Daan officially became commander of this knight order. Daina had come earlier precisely to deliver the message: Uncle Daan was ready. The carriage flew through the Gate of Order, entering the temple grounds. From the highest star above the temple, a golden light curtain cast down, guiding the carriage upward. When the carriage touched down, everyone was essentially stepping upon this star. Viewed from below, the star appeared round, but standing atop it, it was a flat surface, like a sphere sliced in half down the middle. Mobiten was the first to step out of the carriage. Under his command, the guard squad formed up. In truth, most of the time, the guard squad served merely as an honor guard; whenever the High Priest went out, perimeter security was always airtight. What was more, in this place, standing before them were over a dozen figures dressed in the gold-trimmed robes of Temple Elders. If a conflict truly broke out, Mobiten did not believe for a second that his guard squad could achieve anything. Yet he also knew that this was precisely why the knight order outside the Gate of Order assumed an offensive stance. In the most extreme case, the Temple could easily dispose of his guards and threaten the High Priest, but at the same time, Commander Daan outside would not hesitate to order an all-out assault on the Temple of Order. Having served several terms as captain of the High Priest's guards, Mobiten was witnessing such an antagonistic standoff between the Holy See and the Temple for the first time. Although they had not openly torn off all pretense, knives were already pressed against each other's throats. In reality, Mobiten knew that in other orthodox churches, the Temples wielded far greater influence over the church administration than their own Temple of Order did. At the same time, other Holy Sees had far less restraint over their Temples, and those Temples bore far less responsibility. Last time, when Rielsa broke out of the Gate of Samsara, if the elders of the Temple of Samsara had been slightly more selfless and courageous, Rielsa might not have caused such massive devastation at all. On this point, the Church of Order had always been much better—no, immensely better. For instance, when Order declared war on Samsara last time, every knight order was accompanied by a Temple Elder on campaign. Whenever Temple Elders were required to step forward and shoulder the duty of defending Order, the Temple of Order had never shirked. Another factor was a tacit understanding within the Church of Order: descendants of Temple Elder families were barred from the round table conference, not even allowed in the observer seats. That is to say, they could receive better resources and support in other branches and departments, but the core administrative sphere of the Holy See remained closed to them. If viewed from the perspective of comparing the lesser of evils, the Temple of Order could be considered an exemplar among the orthodox churches. Yet his own High Priest still seemed dissatisfied with this. If he had merely shown a slight coolness toward the Temple when he first ascended to this seat, then as his control over the Holy See grew day by day, his attitude toward the Temple shifted from coldness to aggressive assertiveness, to the point that even Mobiten wondered if it was going a bit too far. However, such thoughts could only be kept to himself; he was not qualified to offer advice or opinions. The High Priest walked forward. Ahead, thirteen Temple Elders bowed in unison toward him: "Greetings, High Priest." In Rasma's era, during such non-public occasions, neither side bowed, and Rasma's tone would have been even gentler. Surrounded by the group, the High Priest walked into the temple ahead. When they were finally seated, the High Priest and a white-haired elder sat facing each other, while everyone else withdrew. The secret meeting lasted roughly five hours. When the doors opened and both men emerged, the High Priest walked out of the hall, turned back to look at the building, and a faint smile touched the corner of his lips. He raised a hand and turned it slightly. In the next moment, the hall enshrined on one of the stars began to tremble gently, radiating a sacred radiance. Enshrined within that star's temple was the original edition of the *Light of Order*. The white-haired elder let out a sigh and said nothing, looking somewhat helpless. The Temple Elders standing beside him looked increasingly grim. Originally, the Temple stood aloft, acting as the Holy See's overlord. The position of High Priest, to put it bluntly, had gradually evolved into an external steward managing church affairs for the Temple. Over so many years, everyone had grown accustomed to this mode of interaction, but now, the arrival of this High Priest had overturned that dynamic. His deliberate triggering of the temple enshrining the original *Light of Order* was in fact a warning—that text had been penned personally by Lord Tyrannus. It was a threat, an undisguised intimidation. If he truly was Lord Tyrannus's successor, he indeed possessed the ultimate power of judgment over the entire doctrine of Order, and even over the entire Church of Order. After all, the Church of Order had been founded by him. In the mythological accounts of the original edition of *Light of Order*, it was stated quite bluntly: The Temple is a dog kennel meant to guard the courtyard for the Church. Only in this epoch, with the gods absent and the Temple's power gradually surpassing the Holy See's, had that description been revised in later editions of *Light of Order* to: The Temple is the supreme line of defense protecting the Church. The High Priest stepped into his carriage. The white-haired elder bowed once more to see him off, and the Temple Elders beside him bowed in unison as well. Once the carriage had departed, one Temple Elder muttered indignantly, "He is far too arrogant." The white-haired elder glanced at him, and that Temple Elder immediately took half a step back, lowering his head. "Enough. Return to your respective temples. I shall go report the outcome of our talks." A black starlight pattern appeared beneath the white-haired elder's feet, and he vanished. However, in the very next instant, he appeared deep within the temple where he resided, not going to report upward as he had claimed earlier. Because before this meeting even began, he had already received instructions from above giving him full authority. That included this *Temple Reform Plan*, which placed further detailed restrictions on the Temple's authority while expanding and elaborating upon its duties. Although this would not immediately alter the Temple's status within the Church, the precedent had now been set. Perhaps a thousand years from now, the Temple would be reduced to just another ordinary division within the Church. At the start of the meeting, the elder had argued vehemently, having prepared exhaustive evidence for the purpose. In fact, when the Temple was willing to sit down and debate seriously with the High Priest, it already meant the Temple had run out of other options. But the High Priest had simply responded with a single sentence, turning the rest of the meeting into nothing more than a formality where he dictated and the elder took notes. He had said: "Why would a dog kennel need to be decorated so luxuriously?" ... The carriage returned to the steps before the Holy See's administrative hall. The High Priest disembarked and entered the hall, while Daina took the initiative to pester Mobiten, demanding that he designate where she could go to relax according to the High Priest's instructions. ... "Look, your avatar has returned." Above the administrative hall, there was a carved-out cliff with a waterfall hanging from it. Below the waterfall lay a pool, beside which sat chairs and a tea table. Those below could not see what transpired above, but those above had a clear vantage overlooking everything below. Here, spatial partitioning was not a test of technical difficulty, but merely of imagination. At this moment, a man and a woman sat on the two chairs beside the pool. The man was Norton, while the woman wore the robes of the Church of Principles. Wearing his ceremonial vestments, the High Priest walked past below, arriving at his desk situated in the very center. Spreading his arms, attendants stepped forward to help him remove the vestments and change into casual attire. Immediately afterward, channels—now totaling thirty-six glowing light ribbons leading directly to the central desk—lit up anew. Clerks from various divisions and departments proceeded along these thirty-six paths toward the desk area to deliver their work reports to the High Priest. There was no need to walk right up to him. Once they entered the path's red-line zone, even at a distance from the High Priest's desk, they could report orally, and the High Priest's voice would ring out in response at the appropriate time. Except for certain matters of greater importance or requiring further inquiry where clerks would step forward for a face-to-face exchange, the vast majority of clerks could simply turn around and leave once they reached the end of their light ribbon. Because of this, even though church affairs remained piled as high as a mountain, almost no bottlenecks occurred here. "Should I say you've grown increasingly confident, or increasingly bold? To actually dare send an avatar to conduct formal talks with your Temple—aren't you worried they might find out?" "Haiman, why couldn't it be that my true self went to the Temple for the talks, while the one staying here drinking tea and chatting with you all along is actually the avatar?" The woman lightly tossed her hair back, looking at Norton with a chiding smile. "We've been partners for so many years; you won't even give me that much face?" "When you gave up competing for an Academician seat in the Church of Principles, I already wrote to express my displeasure with that decision." "Just because my partner became the High Priest of the Church of Order, I have to keep up and become an Academician or Dean to match you? I don't think that sounds like something you, Norton, would say." "A person in different positions says different things. You and I have been partners for nearly thirty years; ours is a complementary relationship. One-sided taking is the greatest factor that destabilizes a relationship. Not making you directly take the Dean's seat in the Church of Principles is already quite lenient of me." "Then you should understand full well: once my partner became the High Priest of the Church of Order, how difficult it became for me to climb any higher. There are plenty of lunatics in the Church of Principles, but pitifully few fools. How could they possibly be willing to let me rise further just to coordinate with and assist you?" "You gave it up of your own accord." Norton shook his head. "They did put pressure on you, yes, but in reality, you were simply unwilling to give me this opportunity." "We both have to face our respective realities, don't we?" "Fine, then state your purpose for coming." "I have no purpose. I simply missed you and came to see you. Of course, that might disappoint you. Perhaps my choice not to keep climbing has already disappointed you enough. Or maybe next time I want to see you, I'll need to submit an official application and wait for your approval first?" "My energy is precious. I don't wish to scatter it on meaningless matters." "Has your condition gotten worse, Norton?" "That isn't something you need to concern yourself with right now. We tried to find ways to solve and alleviate it together, but facts have proven that none of them worked." "Yet I never expected it would worsen to this degree." Haiman looked downward at the Norton below, who was swiftly handling church affairs at his desk. "Your avatar is progressing far too quickly. I'm terrified that one day, you won't be able to control him." "I don't worry about that anymore." "Have you truly given up entirely, Norton? If all else fails, we can take the most extreme measures to deal with him." "Him?" "Isn't it him?" Norton tapped his own forehead. Haiman sighed. Placing her palm against her forehead, a blue thread was drawn out, floating over to Norton and wrapping around his fingertip. "Fine. Once this conversation ends, wipe this memory from me." "It's *them*." "*Them*?" With a wave of Norton's hand, over a dozen boxed scenes appeared in the pool. In those scenes: Norton stood in the dark abyss conversing with Bassey; Norton arrived at the Whip-Wielder's office to reprimand Foden; Norton granted audience to Cardinals; Norton spoke via communication array with Kred in the Yorktown Region... Haiman froze, her body trembling slightly, yet she stubbornly asked, "Are these... memory projections?" Norton shook his head. "No. They are happening simultaneously right now." "Simultaneously... You... how did this happen?" "If this is an illness, once it reaches a certain critical point, it deteriorates beyond your imagination." "I'm worried you'll lose yourself." "What's more terrifying than losing oneself is becoming clearer and clearer. It's like a faucet: Tyrannus is desperate to burst out, but I've blocked the spout with my hand. Consequently, other places have begun breaking open one after another." "I think you could have a proper talk with Lord Tyrannus. There are quite a few Holy Children in the Church of Principles, and your Church of Order certainly doesn't lack them. In my impression, the vast majority of Holy Children get along very harmoniously with their respective deities." Norton shook his head. "It's different. Tyrannus's status in our Church of Order is incomparable to that of any branch god." "And then?" "He did not descend through a summoning ritual conducted by the Temple, nor was I chosen by the Temple as a successor—or what they call a Holy Child. This is an era where the gods do not manifest, yet the prophecies of every major church, as well as the anomalies and shifts appearing everywhere in recent years, all point to one thing: the gods are about to return. So, why did Tyrannus 'awaken' in me at this exact juncture?" Shock instantly crossed Haiman's face. Her eyes darted toward that memory thread. If possible, she truly wished to preserve this memory, but rationality told her that was impossible. This concerned the highest secrets of the Church of Order, and even the entire religious world! Only Norton, as the High Priest of Order and the inheritor of Tyrannus, could glimpse even a corner of it. Haiman drew a deep breath and asked, "Lord Tyrannus returned early to make preparations?" "Yes." A smile appeared on Norton's face. "He returned early to prepare for the return of the gods. When the gods return, the power structure of this world will undergo a reshuffling. Whoever can truly foresee the timing and prepare in advance will seize the advantage in this impending upheaval." "Norton, since you know this, why are you still resisting him?" "The return of the gods naturally includes the return of our God of Order. The vast majority of the preparations he is making are meant to welcome the re-descent of the God of Order." "Shouldn't... shouldn't that be expected?" "It shouldn't." "Why?" "Because above Order... there is no need for a god." ... "Vernon, how about grabbing a drink together after work?" "Can't. I'm going to volunteer at the school after work." "Good heavens, Vernon, did you forget how many crates we hauled today? You still have the energy to do volunteer work for free after your shift?" "I already promised. Sorry about that. How about tomorrow night instead?" "Sure, sure, of course. See you then." "See you." Vernon walked out of the docks. Following his usual habit, he didn't rush home or head straight to the school. Instead, he made his way to the shantytown adjoining the docks, where mostly dockworkers and their families lived. People like Vernon who knew how to write, calculate, and compile statistics could secure positions as tally clerks. Although they also had to pitch in and haul cargo when the docks were busy, their wages and benefits were considerably better than those of ordinary dockworkers. Furthermore, whenever business slowed down at the docks, regular workers were laid off by the foremen, but people like Vernon were retained. The former were easy to find and could be hired on the spot whenever needed; bankrupt wretches and illegal immigrants were more common than stray dogs on the streets, and tossing a single bone could draw a whole pack. But people like Vernon who kept the docks running smoothly couldn't easily be hired on short notice. The street was chaotic and strewn with sewage, reeking of a foul, fishy stench. In Yorktown, there were actually many places like this, tucked away in the forgotten corners of the metropolis. Yet they were not actively hiding. Rather, the "city folks" walking through the urban center simply conditioned their eyes to overlook such areas. Entering the largest general store in the area, the rotund, plump proprietress smiled and greeted Vernon. "Ma'am, I'll need to borrow your handcart in a bit." "Of course, no problem. But Vernon, aren't you really considering saving a little money for yourself? After all, you'll want to find a girlfriend and get married eventually." "I don't think there's any rush for that." "No rush? How can there be no rush? If you don't have some savings in hand, what girl would be willing to go with you? Even if they learn about what you do, at most they'll just sigh and say, 'Ah, you're truly a kind person,' then wave goodbye and walk out of your life. I'm talking about educated girls, of course. If you want to marry an illegal immigrant girl, that would certainly be much easier, but then you'd have to worry about what hair color your future children might have." "Thank you for your concern, ma'am. One bag of flour, some bread, olive oil... and these." "All right. That comes to 1,890 riels in total." "Ma'am, I only have 1,800 riels on me. Could I put it on tab? I'll make up the difference when I get paid next month." "Sure, no problem. Even if I wouldn't want my daughter dating you, I'm still willing to give you credit." "Thank you, ma'am. You're very kind as well." The purchased food and daily necessities were loaded onto the cart. Vernon pushed it deeper into the slums. Quite a few grubby children in the vicinity immediately gathered around with excitement upon seeing him appear. None of them stole anything from the cart; instead, they all pitched in to help him push. Clearly, this wasn't the first or second time this had happened. Vernon knocked on a door. A middle-aged man on crutches walked out, both of his pant legs hanging completely empty. His name was Arif. Four months ago, he had been a cargo handler on Vernon's shift. When an old rope snapped and a shipping container plummeted, it had unfortunately crushed him. Yet he remained optimistic, often saying it was God's blessing that had allowed him to survive, having only lost both legs; the other three coworkers had been crushed straight into paste. "Hey, Boss, you're here again," Arif greeted Vernon with a grin. "I had a feeling you'd come today, because when I woke up this morning, I was greeted by sunlight shining through the cracks in the roof, hehe." "Arif, organize things and distribute these to those in need. Also, notify those who need follow-up checkups to come see me right away. The rest don't need to come today." "What, aren't you having dinner at my place, Boss?" "I have to head to the school in a bit. My sister asked me to help repair the schoolhouse roof and windows. You know winter is coming, and Helen doesn't want the kids attending class in drafty rooms." "Oh, right, that's a big deal." Vernon sat down in Arif's home. His yard was large, but piled high with clutter, making it feel cramped. Patients who had previously consulted him lined up and filed in one by one. Vernon didn't charge any consultation fees here. Even so, for many patients here, buying medicine at pharmacies was an unbearable expense. To that end, Vernon prescribed traditional herbs whenever possible, as their prices were vastly cheaper. Everyone here praised Vernon's medical skills. Many saw their ailments genuinely alleviated after his treatment, which at one point even attracted quite a few outsiders seeking a miraculous healer here. But Vernon refused to treat outsiders, and instructed the locals to help conceal his identity as a practitioner as much as possible. In Vernon's words: "Oh, please don't publicize me! I'm practicing without a license; I could be arrested!" After attending to these patients, Vernon stood up, preparing to head to the school. But when he walked to the doorway, he saw a line of men standing outside. Arif said with a grin, "Boss, they're all volunteers. Since there's no work right now anyway, let them accompany you to repair the school. After all, once these kids grow a bit older, they'll be going to Miss Helen's school too." "Then thank you, everyone. Please follow me." Vernon led the group to the school. This was a private school, but unlike the conventional notion of elite private schools outranking public ones, conditions here were extremely rudimentary. There were only three teachers, Helen being one of them. Much of the time, the school's operational expenses relied on street fundraising to stay afloat. Many hands made light work. Before ten o'clock, the men had finished repairing the roof, doors, and windows. It wasn't pretty, but at least they wouldn't have to worry much about drafts this winter. "Everyone stay for dinner! I'll boil noodles for you all," Helen called out warmly to the group. Her and Vernon's home was right next door to the school. "All right, I really am hungry." "Haha, looking forward to it." Vernon walked into the kitchen and asked, "Is there enough flour?" "Probably not, but I bought a bag of breadcrumbs today. Dipping them in the broth works just as well." "That's good, then." "Go fetch some coal briquettes for me." "At your command, my sister." Vernon walked out, but before long, he pushed open the kitchen door and returned. Helen looked at him, noticing his empty hands, and asked in confusion, "Where are the briquettes?" "No need to prepare so much. They all slipped away." "Oh, we should have kept someone outside watching them." "Yes, my oversight." "Well, we'll keep that in mind next time. Tonight, we'll just have tomato noodles. There's still a tomato here." "Boil a bit more broth. I like drinking the broth." "Isn't that just because you don't feel full without drinking broth? Hehe." "Helen, you shouldn't be so blunt, or I won't even be able to fool myself anymore, haha." "Right, do you still remember that student with the eye condition I mentioned to you last time?" "I remember. A little girl. You said she's very gifted in arithmetic." "Yes. Her eye condition has worsened. If she doesn't receive treatment soon, she might spend the rest of her life in darkness." "Oh, that truly is heartbreaking. Sadly, we don't have enough money to send her to the hospital for surgery." "Actually, though... I have a way to treat her." Vernon froze, then asked, "Do you realize the consequences of doing that? It means we'll have failed the test he left for us." "I know. But I think failing a test is nothing compared to a girl's eyesight for the rest of her life. If I don't treat her now, she will never see the light again for the rest of her days." "Have you made up your mind, Helen?" "Yes, I have." "If you've made up your mind, then go do it." "Huh?" Helen looked at Vernon in utter surprise. "What's wrong?" "I'm just surprised. Actually, this idea has been brewing in my mind for a long time, but I always thought if I told you, you'd talk me out of it." "Talk you out of it? Oh, of course not. Besides, let me tell you a secret." "A secret?" "The thing is, I treat people over at Arif's too, but sometimes simple medicines and herbs can't alleviate their ailments. So I sneak into their homes at night and use light magic to treat them. Like with Arif that time—if I hadn't treated him, he would have died of wound infection long ago." "You..." "What, surprised?" "You stopped caring about the test long ago?" "The test? To hell with the test! I couldn't possibly allow those poor souls to die in agony right before my eyes, especially when I have the power to save them!" "It seems we've both failed, then," Helen said with a chuckle. "Perhaps that's why he never came back looking for us. In his eyes, we're both failures who couldn't pass the test." "Probably. But I don't regret it. This is what Light should be doing in the first place: giving hope to those living in suffering." ... "Why do I feel like Karen forgot these two Light babies even existed a long time ago?" Sitting in the car, Neo couldn't help but speak up after listening to the conversation between Helen and Vernon in the house across the street, which was being broadcast over the radio. Alfred remained silent, continuing to adjust the car radio with his hand. Neo continued to Alfred, "Right? You think so too, don't you? Back then, Karen just wanted to shake off these two Light burdens, so he casually gave them a test off the cuff just to brush them off, didn't he?" "Are you still listening?" Alfred asked. "No, I'm done. Come on, let's head down." "All right." Alfred switched off the radio, opened the car door, and stepped out with Neo. "So I think that kid's personality is just like this. He always acts so courteous no matter who he meets, then turns right around and courteously forgets all about them. What the hell does 'living in this city without using the power of faith' even mean? Cliched tests like that are a dime a dozen in every church's mythological tales. Only these two fools actually believed it. Sigh, how did he have the gall to spout such child-fooling nonsense? I certainly wouldn't have the face to swindle people like that." Neo cursed as he pushed open the door to Helen and Vernon's home. Then, opening his arms wide, a beaming, radiant smile broke across his face as he cried out with overflowing warmth: "Praise the Light! You have finally comprehended the true essence of Light! Congratulations, you have passed the test!"