บท 25: 25. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing!

Sylvester knew that many clergymen take the vow of celibacy, and they were called Deus Servus. But he had no plans to become a no-balls preacher. He would rather become a knight in the holy army because they could at least keep their balls, officially. Also, nobody told him he had to give up the little white snake for being God's Favored.

But subverting all their fears, Archpriest Edmund laughed. "Hah, look at all your faces. No, you will not be sterilized by any means. We never do such a thing, for the devotion to Solis should come from the heart. If you besmirch your purity, then you never deserved to be a church clergyman.

"But remember, once you defile yourself, there is no going back. You shall forever be limited to the confines of the Holy Army or the Inquisitors. Your talents will go to waste because you won't be allowed in the upper echelon.

"Well, you have your whole day to think about all this. I will see you tomorrow."

As soon as the Archpriest left, the young Deacons stood up to talk among themselves. Sylvester could already notice a few groups forming depending on their talent. Meanwhile, as Archpriest Edmund said, the chest rank plates all showed either no rank or Apprentice rank. Nothing came close to Sylvester's Adept rank.

This posed a new challenge as he tasted sourness and salt of jealousy. He was being ostracised for being the best of the class in magical and knight talent. Now, his plan of making allies was seemingly already down the drain.

'I hope the food's good, at least.' He thought and headed out for lunch, deciding to worry about networking later.

He soon made his way to the food court to get his lunch. It was on the ground floor, but this food court served the whole School of Dawn. So as he entered, he found short lines of other students from different years. Some looked as young as him, and some were old with short beards.

Again, no women, however.

He stood at the back of a random line and waited for his turn. As Sir Dolorem told him, there were no charges for anything for the Favored Ones. However, the School of Dawn was also the famed best Wizarding and Knight School on the continent, so it also accepted kids who didn't wish to become clergymen. But they'd have to pay money—a lot of money.

This also worked in favor of the church as poor kids with magical talents would come to join the church on their own since they lacked money.

"First-Year, Deacon Sylvester Maximilian. Here you go." Before he knew it, he had arrived at the big window where the old lady gave food trays.

As he looked at it, he found the meal was much better than what he'd been eating at home for the past few years. There was a milk glass, meat soup bowl, some vegetable gravy, rice, bread, salad, and a banana.

"Can I have one more banana?" He asked, knowing that Miraj would eat one. And he didn't wish to share his as he loved this fruit too.

"Sure, dear. Anything for the future of the faith." The old lady kindly gave him not one but two more bananas, instantly earning some respect from Sylvester.

After getting his food, he decided to go outside and eat in the beautiful gardens. He found that the best place to bask in the sun was the gardens since most other faith believers would go to the terraces hoping to be a little closer to Solis. But, of course, as someone who breathes out light, he didn't care about a few meters.

He checked his surroundings to ensure nobody was paying attention to him and sat cross-legged. Then he peeled off a banana and placed it near his feet, just under the robes. "Okay, Chonky. If you want the banana, get under my robes—Wait! I must rephrase my words. I have placed the fruit. Eat it."

"I want the banana outside. The last time you smelled bad there."

"..."

Sylvester coughed to shrug off what the cat just said. "Because I had just finished the Knight's training with Sir Dolorem, I was sweating, and you were hungry. I'm not smelly today, I promise."

"Things Poor Chonky does for his belly." The cat shook his head in defeat and moved to sit under his robes.

"Says the one who adopted me." Sylvester fought back. He and Miraj were great friends already, as he used the bottomless belly of the cat to hoard his essential items. In return, he fed the latter and gave him company.

"Can I sit here?"

A new voice came suddenly. Upon looking, he found it to be a boy from his class. "Felix Sandwall? Sure."

'I don't sense any negative aroma from him.'

The black-haired boy sat beside Sylvester but a few feet apart. It was clear from how he behaved that he came to talk, or maybe even make friends.

"It seems it's just the two of us left with no group." Felix Sandwall started the conversation.

Sylvester didn't dumb down his behavior this time as he wished to make an impression. "What's the point in making groups when we're supposed to fight for the title of God's Favored until only the true one remains?"

"Indeed, but let's not forget we are servants of Solis. We have to work together as much as we work against each other. Do you know why we are both being ostracized?"

Sylvester nodded and humbly answered. "Because they are yet to rise above their petty mindsets. We both have peak talents. Romel Riveria has gathered all Deacons with the talent of the Grand Wizard, as he sees us as threats.

"Meanwhile, the others have grouped as they are too afraid to approach us because they have lower talent. While one thinks too highly of them, and the other thinks too lowly."

Felix agreed with it entirely and added his bit, "But what you don't know is that Romel Riveria is the son of the King of Riveria Kingdom. Not only that, he was bred to become a powerful wizard. His father looked for powerful witches to sire children with for years.

"The King ended up marrying a dozen witches, but his own incestuous blood was his curse, and he only sired one strong son from his last concubine—Romel. He grew up pampered and was taught magic from a young age. He has a lot to stand for, I guess. But he's too bratty."

'These noble families never cease to amaze me.' Sylvester thought.

"What about you, Son of Count Sandwall?" He asked, indicating that he knew about the other's noble status.

Felix glanced at Sylvester, wondering if he should reveal things. But he soon relented as he felt his lies wouldn't work here. "I'm the second son. My family is an ancient line of powerful wizards and knights. We never had any lack of training since mountain tribes and desert cannibals constantly invaded us. At the age of one, I was deemed a genius in sword arts, and here I am. Back home, they call me 'Sword of Solis'. So now I shall become that."

'Ah, no wonder he looks so buffed. He's like a magical spartan, born to fight.'

"What about you?" The young boy asked.

Silvester sighed. He was broke as hell. "Inquisitor High Lord found me when I was about to be burned on a pyre by a sinner. Thankfully, Solis saved me, and since then, I am but a servant of the lord. They often call me his bard.

"Anyway, I am heading back to class."

Done with lunch, Sylvester packed his stuff and started to leave. He didn't invite Felix as he was testing the boy. If he followed, he wanted friendships. If he didn't, then he was simply testing the waters.

"I'm coming too!"

'And the fish took the bait.' Sylvester silently cheered. He had yet to feel anything negative from Felix, much less a lie. This told enough that he was earnest about this.

'I just need to work my charm on other Deacons and initiate my little cult.'

…

"Get in line, my children of Solis. Among you is the true God's Favored. I do not know who it is, but by the end of eight years, I will beat that answer out of you! So when I shout your name, you will enter this field and fight one-on-one. No magic or Knight's manipulation is allowed.

"Use your raw physical strength to prove your worth. The winner of today's tournament shall receive this—a gold dagger. I got this from a Desert Cannibal I killed with my own strong arms." The silver-armored shouting man was Sir Baldfreak. Yes, it was his real name. Yes, he was bald, looked like a freak, and constantly shouted.

He was once a Golden Knight, a respected commander in the Holy Army. But now, he was too old to level up or go on new missions. So he taught Knight's profession to kids in the School of Dawn— a bit too overzealously.

He was teaching them as all Deacons were supposed to build their core strength, be Wizards or Knights. Hence, he gathered them in an indoor arena with a dirt ground.

'Gold dagger? It should be worth a decent amount. I guess it's time to put Sir Dolorem's and CIA training to use.' Sylvester's eyes were now focused on the prize.

"Deacon Romel Riveria and Deacon George Morgan! Come forth and fight. Do not wait for my command, for on the battlefield, the blade will be inbound, aimed at your throat, before you even see it." He commanded.

Soon, the Prince of Riveria Kingdom and an averagely talented wizard kid, George, entered the ring. While the latter looked tense, Romel Riveria had a smirk.

Woosh!—Romel moved as soon as George entered the fighting circle. He didn't give a second to his nervous opponent and threw sand at his face. Then he saw an opportunity and precisely kicked in George's knee joint from the front.

Crack!

"My leg! Aaaargh!" a loud crunch of the bones resounded, and George fell back instantly. His right knee broke in an instant.

"Hehe… everything's fair on the battlefield." Romel Riveria grinned. This earned him instant hatred from other kids of lower talent. In contrast, those with similar talents were full of praise.

"Winner, Deacon Romel Riveria! Squire! Take Deacon George to the infirmary and get his leg fixed. Moving on, the next fight will be between Deacon Louis Hermington and Deacon Markus Lionis." Sir Baldfreak's words boomed throughout the arena.

This fight was oddly ranked too. Louis had the talent of a Grand Wizard and Diamond Knight, while Markus had the talent of an Arch Wizard.

However, what happened in the fighting circle was nothing short of a miracle. Using the element of surprise and taking advantage of Louis' overconfidence, Markus turned out to have a unique talent in acrobatics.

It was as if he had no bones in his body when he kicked Louis in the face without moving and still sending an uppercut with his heels. It was a beautiful sight to see as Louis not only got his overconfidence knocked out but also some of his teeth.

"Wonderful display of your talent, Deacon Lionis. Squire, take Deacon Hermington to the healer. Now, let's move on…"

Slowly, the strange roster for the little tournament got smaller. It was not a simple tournament as all supposed God's Favored showed their talents. It was bloody, even Felix Sandwall was harsh against his opponent. Especially Romel Riveria, who used his past training and nastily broke an arm in his next fight.

As for Sylvester, he was left out of the first round due to being the odd number and being amongst the youngest. However, when his turn came, it was with the naughty boy, Romel.

Since Sylvester was the youngest in the class, the others had already expected another one-sided win for Romel.

"Deacon Sylvester Maximilian and Deacon Romel Roveria."

As he went forward, Felix patted his back and asked in doubt. "Are you sure you can beat him?"

Sylvester chuckled and replied in a low fanatic voice, befitting God's Favored, for all the sneaky eyes to witness. "I ended a heathen bloodline at the age of 30 days. You think I can't defeat this incestuous filth?"

Soon Sylvester was face to face with the royal prince, who was a few inches taller. 'Can't believe I need to use my decades of experience on a bunch of kids. But this brat deserves some, and I can use him to hasten my cult formation.'

As a trained spy, he had various weapons up his sleeves regarding fighting. To fight clean, dirty, or like a beast always depends on who the opponent is. In this fight, he decided to use a clean, but ego-crushing method.

"Let's see how much of that 'peak talent' is real." Romel mockingly challenged him.

But the boy had lost his element of surprise, and nothing he could do would work on a man with years of real battle experience. Brandishing his fist, the prince rushed to Sylvester at max speed, thinking of throwing a fake punch and utilizing the surprise to kick in the knee again.

'Hah, his footwork is horrendous. Does he truly think I will take the bait?' Sylvester saw the fake from a mile away.

Sylvester merely stepped to his right when the boy approached him and lifted his left palm to Romel's head level.

SLAP!!!

And so, the infamous slap that resounded all the way to the Riveria family's incestuous ancestors was witnessed. The pride-breaking fact was that Sylvester didn't even wave to slap. Romel fell on the palm on his own and then onto his ass while crying in pain.

"Y-You slapped me!" Romel's cheek appeared peach red, his eyes as if he'd cry at any moment. This was the first time he felt pain in this tournament—possibly in years.

Sylvester grinned just like Romel did before and gestured at the latter to come and fight. "I did precisely that, little one. Do you want more?"