Outside the window, the sun steadily climbed. As they sifted further down the pile of examination papers on the conference table in the main council chamber, the passing candidates reviewed earlier began to look positively tame by comparison.
They were all villains of some renown within the Empire.
One paper with a score of 69 belonged to "Meat Scraps" Graf. Possessing a massive frame, a body covered in cuts and brand marks, and a deep knife scar at the corner of his mouth, he was a torturer and butcher. He captured humans, dismembered them, and sold their body parts on the black market, though no direct evidence had ever been pinned on him.
However, records showed that the disappearance rate in his district was far higher than normal. Rumors also circulated that he subjected his victims to unimaginable forms of torture in a dark chamber. He was inherently brutal, taking far more interest in inflicting pain than in accumulating wealth.
The next passing high-scoring paper earned 78 points: "Poison Stinger" Walter. Slender and pale-skinned, he wore a black eye patch over his left eye.
"He wears several venom-infused rings on the fingers of his right hand. A poison master living in a district along the Imperial Capital's border, he is infamous for crafting and selling lethal poisons."
"Word is that to test new concoctions, he conducts experiments on innocent vagrants. Cold-blooded, cunning, and completely devoid of regard for human life."
"A fine disposition, wouldn't you say?"
Without much debate, Caius placed his paper and dossier onto the passing pile.
"Isn't there even a single Sealer?"
The High Priest beside him flipped through the various dossiers that had already passed. Their vocations were varied, but not one visibly resembled a Sealer of the same mold as the Bishop of Extinction.
"Sealers are far too rare. Aside from the Lord Bishop of Extinction and the Holy Son of Extinction, few priests in our branch excel in sealing magic to begin with."
Moreover, even among those with an affinity for sealing magic, mages who specialized in sealing others tended to suffer from psychological or mental instability to varying degrees.
Even so, the vast majority of wicked Sealers were bound to be drawn to the Bishop of Extinction.
As they spoke, High Priest Caius picked up another exam paper, and his gaze flickered in surprise.
Seeing a staggering score of 91, Caius quickly found the corresponding dossier—
"Eyeball Collector" Thors. A scholar wearing multi-layered spectacles, his pockets were always stuffed with the eyeballs of various creatures. His eyes gleamed with a light that seemed not of this world. Believing eyes were windows to the soul, he captured creatures of all kinds, plucking out their eyes to study. For a time, blind victims were repeatedly found abandoned in the streets of his town. Though he lived not far from where the incidents occurred, he produced an airtight alibi every single time.
This was the highest score they had seen thus far.
"He has faced numerous accusations, yet not once has hard evidence been brought against him. That alone speaks to his prowess."
Without much discussion, this one was placed into the passing column as well.
They continued turning through the pages.
Only after a dozen more minutes did they finally unearth another paper worthy of comparison.
"Blood Throat" Gia. Tall and thin, impeccably dressed, with a scarlet scarf tucked into her collar. She was an infamous singer whose listeners had a bizarre tendency to tear open their own throats or bite off their tongues to commit suicide. Yet she denied ever using melody magic, taking deep pride solely in her artistic skill.
85 points—also remarkably high.
"Her combat prowess is outstanding, and her methods are discreet. She might even be Tier 6, on par with high priests like us," Caius assessed.
Inherent talent and strength were bonus points that would factor heavily into the final assessment.
Eventually, the scattered documents on the table dwindled.
They were finally sorted clearly into two categories: pass and fail. Only a few scattered sheets were set aside on the round table.
High Priest Caius rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.
He seemed to be waiting for the two high priests beside him to finish reading the remaining documents before asking for their thoughts.
Although he served as the chief examiner for all three stages of the assessment while the other two handled different duties, their assistance still provided valuable perspectives.
"Take a look at these two."
High Priest Caius spread two exam papers and dossiers onto the table.
The gazes of the other two high priests followed his fingertips.
The first score was not particularly high, at just 62 points.
It belonged to a woman named Side.
A perfect score on the objective questions, but aside from a few conceptual questions, the subjective section had been left entirely blank. All in all, she had still passed.
"We should keep an eye on whether she's a spy sent by the Church of the Goddess of Fate. Certain questions are impossible for someone too upright to answer; the more they write, the more flaws they expose. She might have deliberately left parts blank to avoid slipping up," one of the high priests said after a moment of reflection.
He felt the woman's background held no apparent issues and showed no obvious signs of forgery.
"If she truly is a mole, all the better. Once we verify her identity, what awaits her needs no explanation."
"My thoughts exactly."
Having confirmed his colleague's opinion, Caius moved her paper into the passing pile.
However...
When their eyes fell upon the paper beneath Side's, they all froze slightly.
Some even wondered if their eyes were playing tricks on them.
This second paper displayed an astonishing score: a full 98 points.
It belonged to a young man named Luoqi from Lilom City in the Southwestern Province. A clean dossier, born and raised in the Empire.
His understanding of the Resurrection Church was astonishingly profound.
His answers to conceptual questions were practically textbook, and his responses to the subjective essay prompts were flawless.
"Did the priests grading the papers make a mistake?" the high priest beside him asked, frowning at Caius.
"Any paper below 60 or above 90 is reviewed by at least two grading examiners," Caius answered flatly.
That meant the reviewing examiners had given the exact same 98 points.
"And having reviewed it personally, I find no issues with the grading. Between the lines, it sounds high-minded and dignified, yet the entire paper screams nothing but pure malice."
"For example, look at this question—"
[Suppose you have captured a Priest of the Church of the Goddess of Fate. Explain how you would make them yield.]
Caius pointed to an essay question.
It wasn't worth many points because it was considered elementary.
The typical answer was to inflict extreme physical and psychological degradation, subject them to horrific torture, threaten their family and loved ones, and so on.
But this fellow was different.
He wrote that one should transform them with love, leading them to willingly and wholeheartedly join their side.
He even provided a concrete proposal tailored to the given scenario: he wouldn't administer torture himself, but would first train three fellow cultists with potential into professional torturers. After welcoming the prisoner with pure, unyielding torture devoid of interrogation, he would offer them their first choice: were they willing to have a nice chat with him, or would they prefer to spend four days and four nights in the company of those three?
"Indeed. Total conversion yields far greater benefits than simply wringing out intel."
"Yet the difficulty of execution is extraordinarily high. Not just anyone possesses his rhetorical skill, charisma, and judgment."
"His evil nature is beyond doubt."
The two high priests browsed the essay answers out of curiosity, gradually becoming convinced of the score's authenticity—and of the glaring, night-and-day divide between this applicant and the Church of the Goddess of Fate.
"Where did he lose points?"
Looking across the conceptual and essay questions, they saw that this examinee named Luoqi hadn't been docked a single point.
"Look at the front," High Priest Caius said.
Prompted by Caius, they flipped the paper back to the first page and finally discovered where points had been deducted from this near-perfect answer sheet.
It was a multiple-choice question.
It asked the examinee to identify the name of the Bishop of Extinction from three options.
Luoqi had left it blank.
"Could someone really forget Lord Askesan's name? Even if he guessed blindly, he'd have a one-in-three chance of getting it right," one high priest remarked, both amused and bewildered.
"Heh, it's fine. He filled out the later questions thoroughly; he probably just ran out of time," the other high priest said, shaking his head.
In exams, examinees often skipped questions they were unsure of with the intention of circling back later.
Of course, it was also possible that after finishing the later sections, he simply had no time left to review.
"His qualification is beyond question. No matter how ordinary his background appears, his true nature is plain to see at a glance. It's just that his personal strength is weak; I'm a bit concerned he won't make it through the final assessment."
"Weakness has its merits—he won't be able to stir up much trouble. Even if he fails the assessment, we can keep him under our thumb. At the very least, we cannot allow him to serve the Domination branch."
"We've truly turned up some fine talent this time. The Domination branch will have to settle for the scraps we throw away."
The only wildcard in the assessment would be a candidate whose abilities were so overwhelming that they threw the entire plan into disarray. But so far, no examinee posed that kind of threat; each had their own flaws and severe shortcomings.
After verifying that every paper in the passing folder had received the unanimous approval of all the high priests, Caius stood up and organized the hefty stack of documents.
"Then the list of candidates who passed the written examination is confirmed. This afternoon, we will proceed with their official second round and final assessment."
He handed the documents to a scribe waiting in the distance, instructing him to take care of the remaining arrangements.
Chapter 261