Three days later.
Late February winds whistled between the towering edifices of Herrom, the Imperial Capital. In the crisp winter morning air, the colossal structure of the Knights of Extinction loomed, solemn and imposing.
The building's soaring spire pierced the clouds, its surface engraved with ancient legends of the war against demons. A thin sheen of frost glazed its snow-white masonry walls, lending it an air of even greater mystique.
Near the main gate, two knights clad in dark gray heavy armor stood guard, spears in hand. Inlaid upon the towering doors several meters high was a carved metal design depicting the holy crest of the Extinction Branch—a cold gray totem centered around a hollow eyeball. Though devoid of a pupil, it emanated a faint glow, as if harboring the last glimmer of hope it had devoured. Along its edges coiled twisted, interlocking chains and vines, bristling with sharp thorns that encircled the eye and locked it firmly in place.
Once regarded as a taboo existence across the Northern Continent, the Extinction Branch had now established an office within Herrom, the Imperial Capital, officially christened the Temple of the Knights of Extinction.
The priests stationed here were primarily responsible for coordinating logistics between Herrom and the branch's outposts across other provinces, while also vetting new priests seeking to join the Extinction Branch.
Ever since the Resurrection Church gained imperial security clearance across the Protos Empire, the three major branches—each led by a bishop vying for the position of supreme leader—had been expanding rapidly throughout the empire. For many figures already drifting in gray zones, this opened a direct avenue to board the grand vessel of the Resurrection Church.
Yesterday, a preliminary examination for prospective priests had taken place right here.
The complete assessment was divided into preliminary rounds, intermediate trials, and a final evaluation.
The preliminary exam completed thus far consisted of a conceptual written test.
The Extinction Branch would notify yesterday's passing candidates this morning, and then conduct both the intermediate trials and final evaluation concurrently that afternoon.
Though the schedule appeared tight, the high level of execution demanded of a priest was a foundational principle of the Extinction Branch.
As the grand doors of the Temple of the Knights of Extinction slowly parted, the contours of an expansive hall emerged. A massive chandelier hung from the soaring vaulted ceiling, casting a pure white radiance, while oil paintings depicting the Resurrection Church's deeds during the Northern Continent's Holy War adorned the surrounding walls.
Arched doorways on either side led to various interior chambers, and following the corridor to its deepest recesses brought one to the council chamber.
The main council chamber was the most solemn sanctum of the Knights of Extinction. Behind its towering doors of solid oak lay a spacious round-table hall. Towering windows offered superb natural light, with sunlight filtering through the glass and splashing across table and walls in a brilliant kaleidoscope of color.
Even though morning had barely begun, several high priests of the Extinction Branch were already gathered around the table. Their expressions were stern and cold, and the holy crest pendants glowing with purple radiance on their chests testified to their status.
On the table rested several categorized stacks of parchment scrolls and dossiers, recording in meticulous detail the identities and exam scores of the Protos Empire citizens who had sat for yesterday's preliminary test.
In the center of the hall, a middle-aged man in dark gray clerical robes was perusing the documents intently. A bone ring adorned his finger, tapping lightly against the pages from time to time.
Occasionally he looked up to consult the two high priests beside him, while a young knight clad in dark gray armor recorded their remarks with a pen. The other two high priests each held several files as well, murmuring over the scores of various candidates.
The atmosphere in the room was solemn. Every priest present understood that this recruitment drive was an integral step in the Extinction Branch's territorial expansion within the empire. Whether they could identify talent suited to the empire's new policies could have a massive bearing on whether the Extinction Branch would triumph in the bishop election in just over two months.
Under the current landscape and regulations of the Protos Empire, rather than sheer frontline combat power, they needed individuals skilled in planning and strategy.
The middle-aged man leading this operation in the council chamber was High Priest Caius, the core decision-maker; everyone else awaited his final verdict.
Beyond testing intelligence, learning capacity, and foundational knowledge, the objective and subjective questions on the written exam were designed to analyze a candidate's underlying nature, character, and operational style.
"I never expected him to pass the exam. It seems he actually did his homework," remarked High Priest Caius, drawing out an exam paper and comparing it against the candidate's matching dossier.
The church's intelligence officers had conducted background investigations on every single applicant.
In the file in High Priest Caius's hands, the name entry read: "Iron Fist" Serio. The accompanying photograph showed a burly half-demon with dark brown skin, a single horn protruding from his head, and heavy black-gold bracelets encircling his wrists.
The intelligence report stated that he was once a renowned gladiator, banned from the arena for brutal slaughters during matches. It was evident he possessed a near-manic love for combat, yet he also disdained harming the weak—for instance, never touching women or children. He had served several prison sentences.
"One of those fellows backed into a corner in this country. Still, our Resurrection Church doesn't hold much of a grudge against half-demons."
The high priest seated beside Caius took the exam paper—graded at sixty-five points, exactly five points above the passing mark—and offered a faint smile.
"If the Domination Branch were also recruiting, he would probably head there instead," the other high priest remarked.
Normally, the Domination Branch would engage in overt and covert struggles against them, especially now that they were in direct, open competition. Yet surprisingly, this time the Domination Branch hadn't begun recruiting new priests in the Imperial Capital.
"Those fools are probably terrified of our people infiltrating them again. They're being exceptionally cautious this time."
"Even so, we must remain vigilant against Domination Branch troublemakers," Caius said calmly, filtering out several failing exams and picking up another passing paper.
Originally, both the Extinction Branch and the Domination Branch had been wanted targets of the empire. Neither had anything to fear, and they could kill each other freely.
Now that neither side could openly resort to force within imperial borders, the Domination Branch had repeatedly found itself at a disadvantage, plotted against and undermined by the Extinction Branch's priests.
It wasn't that the Domination Branch's priests lacked intelligence; rather, their doctrine and temperament inclined them toward open maneuvers, whereas the Extinction Branch excelled at underhanded schemes.
Nor was the Bishop of Domination the type to swallow insults.
Though they seemed idle for the moment, the instant an opportunity presented itself, they would settle the score with the Bishop of Extinction.
On the next dossier Caius picked up was a young man named "Flame Tongue" Redor, with long red hair and black priestly vestments.
According to the report, he was considered a dangerous fire mage who had incinerated an entire village without any clear motive. His temperament was described as irascible and impulsive.
"You can tell he's an imitator of Ivanos, the Bishop of Destruction. His hair even looks dyed just to resemble him more," Caius remarked, a rare trace of exasperation in his voice.
Although this applicant seemed mentally unhinged, his score was quite solid—a full seventy-six points.
Evidently, his aptitude as a villain and his propensity for chaos were exceptionally high.
"If this fellow were in the Southern Continent, he'd probably be flocking to the Destruction Branch."
"A pity that, given Ivanos's temperament, if the Bishop of Destruction ever laid eyes on an imitator, he'd reduce him to ashes on the spot or flay him inch by inch in the most excruciating way possible."
"Still, the real heavyweights are probably further down the stack. These two just have their quirks."
The other two high priests chuckled as they chatted.
Chapter 260