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Chapter 331 - The Scheming God’s Apostle II

Chapter 331 - The Scheming God’s Apostle II

Chapter 331 - The Scheming God’s Apostle II

“The council has arrived at its decision.” Arciel stepped onto the training grounds in her usual attire. She wore a short dress with a particularly revealing chest piece and a massive hat whose radius far exceeded her own. The silken uniform was disposable casual wear, but the queen’s confidence enforced an impression of elegance and grace regardless. “For those of you who were not selected, I bid that you do not despair. I thank you for the time and effort you have invested. It is because of your presence, drive, and dedication that your peers were able to improve as they were. There is a reward awaiting each of you within the castle’s halls. You may let a member of staff know of a place to see it delivered should you not wish to return to the capital.”

Claire, who had followed Arciel in her longest form, desperately fought the urge to pass out as the queen’s longwinded lullaby wormed its way through the back of her mind. The words nearly stole her consciousness, even as she stared down the crowd and watched for anyone whose actions might have seemed suspicious. Her drowsiness was not entirely a function of the lecture. The debate had lasted through the night and into the early afternoon. There were only seven decision-makers—Claire, Arciel, and five intelligence officers that had joined them on the expedition for the sole purpose of serving as an advisory body—and yet, they had argued till morning. Claire stopped caring roughly halfway through the discussion, but much to her annoyance, the council had prodded her awake every time they wished for her input.

In the end, they had decided on Ace, Krail, Lana, Matthias, and U’ula. Sophia was taken along as an extra sixth, just in case one of the previous five happened to be the person that Claire had sworn to strangle. She was fairly confident that she could determine the person’s identity through a series of interviews if it came down to the wire, but she wanted to wait until she had more information before she forced a confrontation.

Shaking her head of the thought, she turned her eyes to the crowd and watched their faces as Arciel read out the names of the chosen. For the fighters themselves, the results were not particularly surprising. The participants sparred often enough to have a decent idea of roughly where they stood.

“The fuck!? This is bullshit!” There was only one person among them that had any interest in protesting the decision. “Half this, I get, but you’re seriously taking the priest, the elf, and the stupid fucking shark that’s growing like a fucking snail!? What kind of dumb ass nepotism shit is this? I thought we were supposed to be trying to win, goddammit!”

Turning towards the voice’s source revealed a talking clam. His name was Jules. He didn’t have a family name or a second part to his moniker, and from what Claire had gathered, he was either a mercenary or an adventurer. There was very little data on his past. The only thing they knew was that he was on the younger side. According to many of the others, it was clear from his outward appearance, but Claire found it almost impossible to tell. After all, the only thing that there was inside of his shell was an amorphous, off-white blob that would occasionally assume a humanoid shape.

“It was the council that decided the placements,” said Arciel, calmly. She raised a fan to her face and only barely hid the smile that had spread from ear to ear. “But I admit that there is possible fault with its judgement. Speak. I shall allow you to air your complaints.”

“Your council is either filling you with horse shit or full of fucking idiots!” said the youth. “That priest ain’t worth shit in a fight to the death, the elf loses to anything that even remotely resembles a monk, and that fucking landshark is so damn stupid she can’t think herself out an open door! She doesn’t even grow fast! She’s gained less power than anyone else here!”

“Your judgement is sound,” said Arciel, “but there is no reason for us to believe that you are superior given your lack of effort. Surely you must understand, if you are so intelligent as to have noticed their flaws, that it was necessary to prove your worth and your drive to be considered?”

The clam scoffed. “I’ve more than proved my worth in those dungeons you put us through. And why the fuck would I bother training with a group of scrubs? Even daydreaming is a better use of my time than sparring with those idiots.”

Arciel tapped her fan against her chin and considered the clam’s points while Claire thought back to his dungeon runs. There was at least some merit to his claims. He had never exactly demonstrated anything impressive. In fact, he hadn’t demonstrated anything at all. When isolated, he simply avoided every encounter in his path and worked his way to the destination. When put in a group, he sat back and allowed his party to take care of the problem, throwing a spell or two only when it was required. His overall lack of enthusiasm and his refusal to demonstrate his powers meant that he was generally put in parties with more competent individuals, so they always managed even without his input.

Given that they had only explored three destinations, one could easily write his success off as a product of happenstance, but he had certainly never once been the point of failure in any of the three dungeons in which the brigade had dived. In fact, he was part of the only party to clear the first dungeon and in one of the two groups to clear the last.

Of course, not everyone was capable of deducing his competency from his dungeon-related activities. The only side of him that even his party members knew was that of the lazy bastard who kicked up his feet while everyone else diligently devoted themselves to training. That was why the council had, for the most part, misjudged and outright dismissed him. But evidently, contrary to popular belief, it was not sloth that prevented his participation, but pure, unbridled arrogance; he didn’t think that his potential challengers were worth his attention. A less confident man in his position likely would have shown off his prowess, but Jules was so full of himself that he didn’t care for anyone else’s approval.

“Prove it then,” said Claire. Arciel had yet to respond, so she stepped between them and suggested a solution.

The clam crossed his arms. “You of all people should be able to te—”

“Not to me.”

There was a brief pause as the two of them exchanged a stare.

“Fine.” The man clapped his shell and detonated every tree within fifty meters of his person with a crimson blast. It was not one big explosion, but a chain of several hundred smaller ones that erupted in sequence. Whatever the case, the clearing that had become their base—located just outside the last trial’s dungeon—had its size dramatically increased.

The detonations were his school’s attacks, built upon a base of fire and pure arcane. The system described it as red magic, and it could only be acquired by combining one specific level five hundred class with another. It was similar to her titular class, but while the fusion still cannibalized his levels, it did at least refund the associated slot. Such combinations were common for higher-tier classes, and a pure fire mage could have easily erased the base class thrice by the time his second ascension was through.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

What stood out most about the man’s demonstration was the speed and quantity of his explosions. They were fast enough that they could be adapted for any use and numerous enough to jam his foes’ senses with the accompanying clutter. If his laidback attitude had anything to say, then it was nowhere near his limit.

“Force U’ula t—”

The blast went off before she could even finish the sentence. The priest’s reaction was just as quick. He began erecting a holy barrier as soon as his name was called, but there was a fundamental difference in the speed of their magic. Everything below the kelpfin’s pelvis was reduced to dust by the time his mana had started to escape the tips of his fingers.

“Not bad,” said Claire. She turned to Arciel, who folded her fan and nodded.

“Very well. U’ula’s position shall be claimed by Jules instead,” she said. “Are there any objections? Or is there anyone else who wishes to contest a position?” The camp was silent. No one said anything of note until Arciel raised her voice again. “Very well. Those who shall soon be departing, please reconvene with Captain Kha’oen to arrange for transport to Vel’khagan. The rest of you may report to Chloe, the head maid. And as for the medical staff, I bid you to attend to U’ula immediately.”

Brushing her hair, the queen found a half-destroyed log and took a seat on top of it. Though she hadn’t been as willing as Claire to let it show on her face, the long night’s discussions had left her no less exhausted.

The crowd didn’t stir until the medics arrived on the scene and broke the silence with their communications.

“Shame you didn’t make it.” Ace threw an arm around a giant turtle with a rocky shell.

“With how that exchange just went, I’m honestly kinda glad,” he muttered. “That was ruthless.”

“Are you stupid?” Jules shot the turtle a glare. “Being that soft is what got us here in the first place.”

“That doesn’t mean she had to approve of you blowing the poor sap’s legs off.”

The clam snorted. “Suck it up and deal with it. It’s not like I killed him.”

“You pi—”

A clap interrupted the fight and drew everyone’s attention to the head maid. “That’s enough for now, you two,” she said, with an awkward, forced smile. “We don’t really have the time for this right now. Please get your things ready so that we can move out as soon as possible. Make sure you pack everything you need. Only nine of us will be heading any further north and we’re doing away with much of the caravan, so only bring what you can carry.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” asked Ace.

“Uhhh…” Chloe smiled awkwardly. “North?”

“We’re heading to Cadria,” said Claire.

“The fuck?” Jules raised a brow. “Already?”

“We shall conduct our training along the way. Griselda has chosen for us a path that shall empower us both physically and mentally as we walk along it,” said Arciel. “It falls upon us as our first order of business to see Moros through an impending crisis. I suggest you refer to your logs for confirmation.”

Log Entry 850137

You have received a quest - Guiding Light

Objective: Travel to Cadria and complete your training under the Lunar Queen’s command.

Successful completion merits a reward from Griselda, goddess of the moon. Rewards are presented as divine relics or boons of otherwise equal value.

Despite knowing that the queen was the goddess’ priestess, many of the quest’s recipients were surprised to see it delivered. They oohed and aahed as they looked it over, their eyes beneath the afternoon sun.

“A divine quest!?” exclaimed Ace, with his eyes wide open.

“Another scam, no doubt,” said Krail. “It’s always about the bribery with these so-called gods.”

“Damn. I would’ve tried even harder if I knew the goddess was watching.” Even some of the rejected saw their moods uplifted despite having failed to take part. Perhaps it was simply reassuring to know that their queen’s seemingly ruthless actions were entirely goddess-approved. Perhaps, some of them reasoned, the entire skit was arranged.

Of course, not everyone was filled with energy. Some were disinterested, while others were full of regret. There was even a group that was more annoyed than not. Said category contained exactly three people. One was Claire, who was irritated by the vague, non-committal terms, and the second was the elf, who clearly did not believe.

His lips were twisted into a scowl and his foot tapped against the ground in a regular pattern that oozed with irritation. Still, he refrained from voicing his opinion, even though another greenwood in his position surely would have flown into a full-blown lecture. Claire couldn’t quite pin the reason for his silence but she appreciated it nonetheless. The last thing they needed was for the expedition to devolve into a theological debate.

And as for the last? Her situation differed slightly from the other two.

“Wait! Why did I get the quest!?” cried Chloe. “Please don’t tell me this means I’m going to have to fight.”

“Do you not think it to be appropriate? Your growth has far exceeded even that of many of the combatants,” said Arciel.

“I’m supposed to be a maid!” cried the succubus.

“Perhaps, but your strengthening shall allow you to continue your service even in the most extreme conditions. This is no doubt a choice born of our goddess’ foresight.”

“Yes, bu—”

“I certainly would not mind offering you an additional reward in the case that the pace of your growth exceeds my own.”

The maid’s tiny wings fluttered like her heart as her eyes were filled with sparkles. “I’ll try my best!”

“Maybe we ought to start including her in the spars,” said Ace, with a chuckle.

“No thank you,” said Chloe. Imitating a certain someone, she met the lizard with a glare nearly icy enough to force him into torpor.

“On that note, perhaps it is worth mentioning that Claire and I shall be joining in on the training from this point onwards,” said Arciel. “While you may be hesitant to attack me, given my position, I bid that you treat me as you would any other member of the brigade. It will only be to your own benefit to face me with the full extent of your power.”

“Enough.” Claire lightly prodded the queen in the side. “Less talking, more leaving.”

“A fair point indeed,” said the queen. “Let us each return to our tents so we may pack our necessities.” Nodding first at the group that would be accompanying her, then again at the rejected candidates, and finally her knights and servants, she returned to her tent and began doing as described. Few of the others followed suit until Chloe raised her voice.

“Please get your luggage sorted as quickly as possible. We’ll be setting out within the hour.”

It was only after the announcement that the people suddenly went from idly chatting to hurrying along. The chosen champions grabbed their things, organized their thoughts, and prepared to leave Vel’khan.