Kapitel 48: Test

"Hasn't your job here finished, William?"

"It's done, but I won't be joining you."

"Looks like he didn't receive the order, Laima."

"Yes, it seems that way. Then, until we meet again on the promised day, William."

"I believe we might meet sooner than expected."

"He's right. While we don't know the exact date," widened his smile, "that promised day will surely come."

Responding in a fitting manner, "Yes, we're all hoping for that."

"Then, until we meet again."

"See you again, everyone."

"Thank you for everything, Mister William."

"No problem, Triss. We're all walking the same road."

"Until we meet again."

"Until we meet again, Mister Mission Completer."

Before departing the room, Belenus mocked, "Go and pray to your Goddess, William," his words echoed with scorn, followed by resounding laughter.

On a Saturday, right before the prayer, William, a dutiful citizen, found himself compelled to offer devotion to his cherished Goddess, clenching his teeth and fists in compliance.

Despite his distaste for this aspect of his role, as an undercover agent, he was obligated to perform it. Being a man of mission for the future of Rebellious he aspired to aid, he had adeptly integrated the torment-like prayer into his daily routine.

The prayer time was fixed at 14:00 on Saturdays. Hence, they opted to hit the roads at 14:25, a moment by which everyone would unquestionably have been prostrating themselves.

Despite the designated prayer time being 14:00, the guards required approximately 10 minutes to check the presence of every city resident. Subsequently, they would swiftly set off to gather any stragglers during that brief 10-minute window.

Allowing a grace period for those arriving later to prepare, the actual prayer commencement consistently occurred 15 minutes after the scheduled time.

While leaving the city remained as straightforward as their initial entry, a subtle alteration existed. In contrast to their casual entrance in the past, this time, they were required to don masks and conceal their faces.

Their pace was no different from flighting from enemies, emphasizing the urgency of their movements. Caution was imperative this time.

It was only logical for the guards to scrutinize the cameras as if their lives depended on it. After all, literally, an explosion reverberated through their station. Naturally, they had to remain vigilant, scrutinizing everyone entering and exiting, including those strolling through the streets.

Even though they belonged to the Rebellious, it wouldn't bode well for them if their faces were plastered across the internet and streets as wanted.

Many of the fresh recruits in Rebellious yearned for a wanted poster bearing their name. It served as an honor, fueling their belief in the excellence of their duties and transforming them into formidable threats to the Gods. Such a perspective not only motivated the novices but also enticed some to enlist in the Rebellious ranks.

Rebellious, an organization forged with the sole purpose of overthrowing the Gods, mandates that its burgeoning members, still in the process of ripening and yet to attain Level 6, remain concealed. This directive stems from their inherent vulnerability, lacking the power necessary to shield themselves from the omnipotent Scepters.

The euphoria accompanying newfound fame and the emergence of people to be feared posed a potential headache for Rebellious. While complete prevention was impossible, they devised a strategy to exponentially diminish such occurrences.

The solution lay in comprehensive education, a decision made by Rebellious to enlighten their members across every conceivable aspect.

In stark contrast to the archaic cults that employed mind control, exploiting people both physically and spiritually, treating them as mere commodities for financial gain, Rebellious adopted a different approach. Their focus was on education, nurturing members to become thoughtful and discerning people, and transcending the manipulative practices of the past.

"Cough! Cough! Cough!"

'Sigh… Poor kid,' William could only clench his fists as his head rested on the praying mat.

The sounds of coughing, sneezing, and the sight of shivering people were entirely commonplace within any prayer site. It was an inevitability for people, akin to...

Thud!

The dull thud of an ailing person, sprawled on the ground, if fortunate, on their praying mat, with no one to offer aid, was a sight familiar to the accustomed eyes of the people.

It's not that everyone turned cold-hearted overnight; it's the restriction that prevents them from offering assistance. Rising before the prayer concludes would constitute defiance against the Goddess, resulting in one being marked as a heretic.

Wouldn't the Goddess intervene and rescue someone on the brink of death? This question, left unanswered, remained a heated topic for a century. Priestesses refrained from delving into such discussions, deeming it heretical to speak on behalf of the Goddess.

On the other hand, the guards would steadfastly maintain their positions, not budging even a centimeter, as they were obligated to embody the epitome of ideal figures.

Rebellious rarely felt the necessity for propaganda, never actively seeking it in the first place.

Those unblinded by the radiant aura of the almighty Goddess inherently discerned what was real and what they should strive for. Open eyes can perceive the reality laid out before them, possessing the cognitive capacity to comprehend the rightful path.

Every unclouded eye discerns the hypocrisy in those who claim to tread the path of the Gods. Every enlightened mind comprehends the direction leading to nowhere but servitude to those in power. Anyone harboring an independent will and yearning for absolute freedom inevitably crosses paths with those who opt to rebel.

The mission team of four reached one of the bases of freedom seekers. Counting the day they set off, five days had elapsed on the roads, with the final day designated for waiting in the forest, ensuring a discreet entry.

With heads held high, they proceeded with deliberate steps, slowly and proudly piercing the ground on the path trodden by the trophy that led them forward.

Knock, knock!

"Come in."

The destination they ventured to, even before stowing their bags in their own rooms, was as unmistakable as daylight. Without uttering a single word, Laima deposited the cargo onto his desk, dismissing any regard for his hologram computer.

Rather than being taken aback by her actions, he beamed a bright smile, "Good job. Exceptional, actually. I'm truly impressed."

"I told you that we could do it."

"Yes, you did."

"However," turned her back, relinquishing the spotlight to two youngsters, "We wouldn't be here if it weren't for them. They are the true saviors of this mission."

"Exactly. Markus, they pulled off the deed and distracted the guards."

"Really?" This time, he was genuinely surprised.

Markus only dispatched them to observe, to grasp the essence of a mission, and to absorb a lesson or two along the way. His sole desire was for the two inexperienced youths not to interfere with anything, but to sit quietly.

But now, his eyes widened in response to the unexpectedly pleasing words from his two trusted members, elevating their status to celestial heights in his perception.

A genuine happiness spread across his face, "Tell me the story,"

"After we take care of ourselves, alright?" Laima and silently returned to the door.

"No problem. See you in a bit, then."

---

Knock, knock, knock, knock!

"Yep, never changes," muttered, letting out a quick sigh before heading to open the door for the usual person.

"Good morning."

"Good mor-"

"Let's go! We need to eat quickly and get moving."

"What's up?"

"Let's goo!"

And she practically dragged him to the cafeteria.

As was almost always the case, they found themselves alone throughout the entire mealtime. Not a single sound penetrated the space as they quietly savored their meal together, just like any other day.

"You don't know, do you?"

'Here we go again.'

"Don't know what?"

"That we're having a test today."

"What test?"

"Power test."

An eyebrow shot up in surprise.

"Can you give me more details?"

"So, you know that I'm a Level 2."

"Yeah."

"Well, the thing is, there's a test to confirm if we officially reach Level 2. And, as we all know, you've hit Level 2. Aaand, it seems our friend Fortune did too."

"Fortune?"

"Mike Fortune."

"Yeah, he talked about that feeling like he could level up any moment now."

"Yes, we're heading to take the test now."

"Sure, let's do it."

The location for the test was an empty room adjacent to the gym. The room was entirely barren, except for enormous boulders enclosing its interior.

Some bore dents, others exhibited little to sizable craters, but nearly all were marked by the scars of battle. Almost, because three smaller boulders, dwarfed by their larger counterparts, stood in front, each with a child positioned before them.

"Leon, Triss, I heard your deeds."

"Thank you, Miss Claire."

"Miss Claire?"

"I didn't know you were the humble type, kid."

"Leon, something happened to you, bro?"

The final speaker was a black kid of their age, named Mike Fortune, a comrade from Rebellious.

"I'm just calling a beautiful miss as a miss, that's all."

"Thanks, Leon. You go first, then."

"Sure."

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