Lanqi Begins to Prove His Allegiance

Caius's words were like a pebble cast into a still lake, rippling outward in ring after ring. The candidates across the hall registered wildly different expressions—some were astonished, some remained silent, and others were thrilled beyond measure. After listening, Lanqi froze for a second. When he first heard the words "Wilfortism," his mind had involuntarily jumped to his family's teetering merchant guild. Yet as he listened on, he realized— This sounded remarkably like the method used back in the Banquet of Sanctuary Villains Shadow World to deal with the Saintess of Destruction. Without even needing to guess, Lanqi knew instantly who had named this ideology after his surname! What he hadn't anticipated was that one day, this ideology would spread all the way to the Resurrection Church, only to be turned around and used against candidates—and even turned on him personally. "..." High Priest Caius stood in silence, his sharp gaze sweeping over every candidate, watching for the slightest flicker of hesitation or irregularity in their eyes. An ideology of such extreme malice, even before being put into action, could shake lurking enemies into exposing their flaws the moment it was spoken aloud. Many candidates in the hall had never heard of this so-called "Wilfortism," yet they quickly understood the significance of this second exam. In contemporary theological thought, prevailing theories held that deities now existed on the conceptual plane. They could not directly intervene in the mortal realm, or perhaps required exceedingly stringent conditions to do so—conditions tied both to the deities themselves and to the living beings upon whom they sought to act. No one could pinpoint those precise conditions. Yet whatever requirements had to be met, an inescapable prerequisite existed: establishing direct karmic causality with that deity. Thus, in this world, binding oneself through cause and effect with a god was a solemn, perilous affair. One must never swear oaths to a deity lightly. Whether oaths of blessing, prayer, repentance, or direct curses hurled at a god, they did not necessarily trigger divine retribution, but the Resurrection Church was an organization that dreaded the Goddess of Fate's divinity and intangible intervention above all else. In fact, one could argue that the two groups with the absolute greatest faith in the power of the Goddess of Fate were the Church of the Goddess of Fate and the Resurrection Church. The clergy of the Church of the Goddess of Fate utilized "Wilfortism" to root out Resurrection Church cultists precisely by forcing suspects to swear the most devout oaths to the Goddess of Fate, using this to cut off the cultists' future paths; the moment someone showed hesitation, resistance, or an unnatural expression, their suspicion would skyrocket, marking them for intense scrutiny. Now, the Extinction Branch's second examination had turned Wilfortism on its head, compelling candidates to actively desecrate a statue of the Goddess of Fate. Through subtle shifts in demeanor and the final state of their work, the examiners could discern who might be a cleric of the Church of the Goddess of Fate! After all, sincere curses and disrespect toward a deity would also reach them. Only members of the Resurrection Church would openly harbor such blatant hostility toward the Goddess of Fate. Or rather, this was a blood pledge of allegiance. Once a person had burned their bridges with the Goddess of Fate so completely, their only recourse was to seek sanctuary within the Resurrection Church. Several renowned scoundrels in the hall displayed the true caliber of hardened villains, unfazed by the prospect and already itching to begin. What drew Caius's closest attention, however, was the woman named Side, who had left large blanks on her written exam and was the prime suspect for being a Church of the Goddess of Fate spy. Her expression remained impassive, entirely unmoved. Lanqi's slightly surprised reaction, by contrast, seemed thoroughly ordinary, drawing little notice from Caius. "Sorry, count me out. Offending the Goddess of Fate isn't worth it." An unnamed candidate in the hall hesitated for a long while before finally standing up. Yet when he turned around, he found heavy-armored priests standing motionless before the massive metal doors, blocking his path. "It seems you harbor some suspicious ties to the Church of the Goddess of Fate," Caius remarked impassively. "No, that's not it! I just don't want to burn bridges so completely!" the man shouted, his eye twitching. Caius acted as though he hadn't heard a word. Immediately, heavy-armored priests stepped forward from both sides to seize him. Ignoring his struggles and frantic cries, they dragged him through a side door within the hall, his voice growing fainter and fainter until it vanished completely. At once, under the brief, suffocating silence, many candidates felt their heartbeats and breathing grow heavy. They understood now: this exam offered no way back, and opting out halfway was not an option. Under the tenets of so-called Wilfortism, there existed only absolute innocence and absolute guilt; no middle ground was permitted. Everyone present, whether they still wished to take the exam or not, had to prove their loyalty to the Resurrection Church now that they had come this far. In a corner of the hall, Lanqi wore a complicated expression. Meanwhile, his shadow was on the verge of losing its composure entirely. Boss Cat couldn't resist hurling curses at this insidious, venomous high priest. And this terrifying "Wilfortism"—which bastard had come up with that! "..." Then again, it seemed to recall that Lanqi's surname was also Wilfort, wasn't it? Before long, the clanking sound of unfastened chains broke the silence of the hall. From an inner corridor, several priests in dark-gray armor wheeled out carts loaded with tools. Upon the carts rested numerous exquisite stone statues and workshop implements. They were sculptures of the Goddess of Fate, roughly twenty centimeters tall, carved with lifelike detail. "These are the targets you are to deface. Any tools you may require will be provided," Caius said, glancing aside at the delivered exam materials with a cold, hard voice. "You have only half an hour for this second examination. Once finished, submit your work to me. When time is up, I will announce the rules for the final evaluation." As his voice faded, the heavy-armored priests distributed a statue of the Goddess of Fate and tools to each candidate. Caius then signaled that the test had begun. Lanqi looked down and quietly observed the statue of the Goddess of Fate in his hands, remaining calm and pensive. Gradually, the cavernous hall echoed with the mounting din of metal striking stone, chiseling and scraping. Some chose hammers, blades, paintbrushes, or their own spells. A few even incorporated extra materials to alter and reconstruct the statues rather than merely breaking them. The examinees present channeled their hostility and malice toward the Goddess of Fate in their own ways. It was an exam that could be as simple or as arduous as one made it. As long as one's stance was rock-solid and free of deceit, it was nothing more than a formal procedure. Yet for those with something to hide, it was as difficult as ascending to heaven. Amid the hall now smelling faintly of an iron foundry's acrid smoke, Lanqi seemed utterly out of place. He did not rush to start, nor did he treat the statue with the imaginative, savage brutality of the others. He merely took up a carving knife in silence. His strokes were exceptionally steady, each cut imbued with deep emotion and profound meaning.