Episode 229

Lorcan approached calmly and tried to look at my paper. “What does it say?”

I instinctively hid it. “Hey now, were you trying to take a peek?”

There was no guarantee that everyone’s notes were the same. He knew that, so he tried to glean information from my note. I had no idea what the promotion trial actually entailed. That meant I couldn’t lower my guard.

What did this mean? The people in this room weren’t allies but competitors I needed to eliminate along the way.

“Peeping? That’s a rude way to put it. I only meant we should exchange information.”

“Exchange, huh? Fine. Show me yours first, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Lorcan frowned but let the matter drop.

Mercenaries, always the same bastards… They threw tantrums the moment their interests felt threatened, then justified stealing from others with excuses like, “You were robbed because you were stupid.”

Of course, their bravado appeared only toward those weaker than them. Once faced with someone strong enough to kill them, they immediately started wagging their tails like obedient dogs. Yet if they got a chance to stab someone in the back, mercenaries wouldn’t hesitate to attack without a second thought. This was the true nature of those bastards.

However, Chain Scythe Lorcan wasn’t just any mercenary. He had earned a nickname. Unlike heroes, only a tiny fraction of mercenaries could achieve that. To qualify, one needed A-rank or higher, five years of experience, a solid reputation in the trade, and other criteria. The fact that he met all these conditions suggested he wouldn’t stoop to the petty tricks of lesser mercenaries. At the very least, he had a shred of pride.

Or wait… is he a hero now, not a mercenary? I shook my head inwardly, brushing off my bias.

As I locked eyes with Lorcan in silent standoff, someone else spoke. “They say a church member is hiding somewhere in this room. Finding them is probably the first task of this promotion trial.”

The speaker was a man who resembled a knight, reading aloud what was written on my paper without altering a word. He looked to be around thirty and was likely not of the imperial family. His unkempt hair, scruffy beard, and worn equipment suggested he was a free knight.

“You just say it outright? That ruins the fun,” muttered a woman who seemed to be a scholar, her face clearly showing disappointment. She had been enjoying the reasoning game.

“The time limit is one hour,” the knight replied evenly. “If we waste too much time trying to outwit one another, all of us will fail. Is that what you want?”

“There’s no proof that what’s written on the paper is genuine, right?” I interjected before she could respond. I was the youngest among them, yet I felt no need to speak formally.

Surprisingly, no one objected to my tone.

The knight turned to me. “Are you saying it’s a lie?”

“It seems unlikely a church member would be sitting around inside the Hero Society’s headquarters.”

Honestly, I hadn’t thought much when I first read the paper. My initial reaction was that someone had discovered my identity. A little reflection quickly proved that impossible.

I had volunteered for the promotion trial. If the timing had been even slightly off, I wouldn’t have been able to participate. Had the heavy rain lasted another day, I would have missed the trial that took place at midnight. This confirmed it wasn’t a pre-set trap. In other words, this was a standard test often conducted at the Hero Society.

How had I—a man forced into the priesthood against my will—ended up in such a trial? Pure rotten luck had thrown me here.

“By the way, are all of you strangers to one another?” I asked.

“That’s right,” the knight replied.

I hummed. Taking the promotion trial meant these people were already active heroes, apart from exceptions like me. Still, none of them seemed to know each other.

It made sense. This trial took place only at headquarters, so heroes from other branches had to travel here to advance their rank. With over 1,000 branches in the Hero Society, people from different regions rarely crossed paths. There was no reason to suspect someone of being a church member simply because they were unfamiliar. For now, that was reassuring.

At that moment, a man between middle-aged and elderly fixed his gaze on me. “You seem ignorant of how the Hero Society operates, boy.”

No matter how rude he sounded, I could not speak informally to a man who appeared around the same age as Kayan. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“You claim church members couldn’t be at headquarters? You’re wrong. Dozens are imprisoned here. Some even undergo conversion,” he replied.

“Conversion…” I echoed. “Are you saying church members betrayed the church?”

The old man nodded. It was hard to believe, yet his heavy aura lent weight to his words. The other heroes remained silent, which made the claim even more convincing.

“They sometimes use converted church members as sparring partners, for the Origin, or even in promotion trials. So the claim that a church member is among us probably isn’t a lie,” he concluded.

“Nevertheless, I find it hard to believe that a former church member would cooperate with the Hero Society so openly,” I said.

The knight stroked his chin, then glanced aside. “Sister, what do you think?”

His tone carried a polite deference. Everyone in the room had looked to her immediately after checking the paper.

The young nun, seated in the most secluded corner, made the sign of the cross. “I have listened carefully to everyone’s opinions. You have asked for my thoughts, so I will share them. The Hero Society knows how to handle church members skillfully. Their ability rivals the Imperial Special Forces, let alone the inquisitors of our church. What is written on the paper is likely the truth.”

I studied the pendant around her neck. Its pattern marked the Seventy-Two Churches, not the Sun Church. She was not completely beyond suspicion. Yet among us, she was the most above reproach.

“Then our task is to uncover the church member within the hour,” the knight said.

“That’s right.”

“Would you be willing to lead us, Sister?”

The nun hesitated at his words. A brief flash of embarrassment crossed her serene face. After scanning the room, she lowered her gaze and murmured, “I am lacking in many ways. Yet if everyone wishes it, I will do it.”

Her voice remained calm as she stood and walked to the back of the room.

I noticed a small door there. The nun opened it, revealing a room just large enough for two people to sit side by side. Chairs were already in place, clearly set up intentionally by the Hero Society.

“The test lasts one hour, and ten people will be in the room. Time is limited, so I will have a brief three-minute conversation with each person,” the nun said.

“Can you identify the church member in just three minutes?” The scholar spoke with a sharp, sarcastic tone, clearly pessimistic.

“I will do my best and leave the rest to the gods,” the nun replied without any signs of displeasure.

The scholar clicked her tongue in annoyance, as if the calm reply were somehow infuriating.

“Afterward, we will have thirty minutes to discuss our findings and identify the church member. Of course, I will consider any better suggestions,” the nun added.

No one dared voice an opinion in front of a nun from the Seventy-Two Churches. They soon agreed to follow her suggestion for face-to-face meetings.

The knight went first.

I was last. I couldn’t afford to lower my guard. Beyond the infiltrating church member, there was always the risk of my true identity being exposed. Perhaps it was fortunate she belonged to the Seventy-Two Churches rather than the Sun Church.

Still, what kind of questions could she ask in that tiny room? Should I try to eavesdrop?

Just as I was about to activate the Fiery Golden Eyes, Lorcan leaned close. “You were already a hero.”

“Yes, for now. I’m only D-class. What about you?” I replied while calming my internal energy.

“C-class.”

“Oh? Yet here you are, taking the same promotional trial as me,” I gibed.

“The Hero Society’s promotion trials are brutal. If I fail even the first round, I’ll be demoted. You’re already at the bottom, so you have nothing to lose,” he retorted.

“I see.”

Lorcan glanced around before lowering his voice. “Also, show more respect to the elderly. Anyone still working as a hero at this age deserves it.”

“I wasn’t rude.”

“You weren’t formal either.”

I gave a halfhearted nod at his advice.

Then he asked suddenly, “Who do you suspect most?”

“What about you?”

“I think the nun might be a church member.”

The air seemed to freeze. With our level of skill, everyone in the room had likely overheard.

“The nun? Really?” I asked.

“She’s from the Seventy-Two Churches, not the Sun Church. We can’t assume she’s entirely innocent. She might even be using this as a smokescreen to deceive us,” Lorcan reasoned.

I raised an eyebrow. “And why tell me this?”

“Because in this room, the only person I trust is you,” he said.

The remark caught me off guard, but it was fair. We had met by chance at the bar earlier today. Lorcan likely saw me step off the carriage with my companions and check into the inn, so in his eyes, it was improbable that I was an actor that the Hero Society planted in advance. On the other hand, I knew this man would become an A-class hero someday. I could afford to trust him—at least a little.

I scanned the room again: the male knight, the male merchant, the elderly swordsman, the nobleman, the female scholar, the female mage, and finally, the nun. Each exuded individuality. Just by looking at them, there was no way to tell who belonged to the church.

“So? Who is it?” Lorcan pressed.

Instead of speaking, I wrote on the paper: The old man or the knight.

Lorcan glanced at it and scribbled below: Why?

I wrote: Both of them took the lead too openly. The elderly man, in particular, planted the idea that only one church member is among us.

He wrote back: And you think that’s a false assumption?

I responded: There’s no proof there’s only one.

Lorcan let out an involuntary gasp.

“The next person,” the nun called.

By then, the mage inside the room had stepped out. It was Lorcan’s turn.

As he entered, I discreetly activated Fiery Golden Eyes to observe. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but I could trace his vitals. Everything seemed normal, and the atmosphere felt unusually calm.

Three minutes later, Lorcan emerged.

“What did you talk about?” I asked.

“A few questions about my background. Then she asked if I’d consider joining her church…”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.”

I nodded and scanned the room again, a subtle unease settling over me.

“Next. Please come in.”

Before I could dwell on it, it was my turn. I rose and entered the small room.

The nun’s voice was soft but clear. “Please sit. There’s no need to be nervous.”

“Ah, yes.” Her courtesy compelled me to respond politely.

I sat, and our knees nearly touched in the cramped space. The room seemed even smaller now.

She chuckled softly, as if amused. Then her eyes flashed suddenly, and her words froze me. “The church members have already been identified. All that remains is to announce it.”

“Really?” I asked, a flicker of surprise crossing my face, but she only smiled.

She had already found them?

When our eyes met, she continued, “You’ve stepped into the Hero Society’s headquarters—a very dangerous place. But there’s no need to worry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“In the worst case, I will intervene and draw attention to myself, even if it costs my life. Not a single person, not even an S-class hero, will lay a hand on you, Priest.”

A heavy silence fell.

I couldn’t speak. I restrained the surge of internal energy that rose with my exploding emotions, keeping a blank expression as I glared at the nun.

For a moment, she looked surprised, then smiled. “My apologies for the delayed introduction. I am Verita, a Colorless believer. For now, I go by the alias Razbet…”

Verita’s smile stretched widely. “Therefore, Priest, I must ask you to endure this inconvenience.”

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