Four Split Personalities

"That’s absolutely correct, Chief Priest Ramollok."

Foster nodded and mused, "Hold on a moment... If I remember correctly, with your capabilities, Chief Priest Ramollok, you should have received an invitation from the organizers shortly after the exchange group arrived in Academy City and completed registration, right?"

Ramollok awkwardly adjusted his glasses and chuckled, "That’s indeed the case. But at that time, because my reputation wasn’t great and I wasn’t very interested in these mock battles, I refused without much thought."

"Oh?"

Foster gave Ramollok a meaningful look, "And what do you mean by that?"

"It’s a bit awkward to admit, but I’ve changed my mind."

Ramollok looked somewhat embarrassed and said self-deprecatingly, "It seems the Dan Slave Military Academy is hosting this season’s Warfire League, so I thought, since you’re the Captain of the Law Enforcement Team and the student union president of that academy, you might help me get into the preliminaries."

"Preliminaries?"

Foster widened his eyes in confusion, "What preliminaries?"

"The preliminaries for the Warfire League."

Ramollok gestured with his hands, looking self-assured, "I asked around today, and the preliminary registration has already closed. Doesn’t that mean I..."

"You’re too straightforward."

Foster chuckled helplessly, "You didn’t think the organizers’ invitation was just for you to join the preliminaries, did you?"

Ramollok was taken aback, "Isn’t it?"

"For someone like you, accepting an invitation would mean being directly listed as a seed competitor."

Foster shook his index finger, seriously explaining, "Forget the preliminaries, you wouldn’t even need to participate until the round of thirty-two in the knockouts."

Ramollok was astonished, "Wouldn’t that be unfair?"

"In fact, having you compete in the preliminaries and early knockout rounds would be unfair."

Foster took a sip of his warm tea, "Even during exchanges, Warfire League participants are usually students. Having them compete against a renowned general like you for a spot would be too harsh."

Ramollok nodded sincerely, realizing, "That does seem to make sense, though I’m not really a famous general..."

"In any case, Chief Priest Ramollok."

Foster smiled, his tone light, "If it’s about the competition slot, you needn’t worry at all. The academy would be thrilled if you intended to participate, and I might even earn extra credits as the facilitator."

Ramollok let out a sigh and joked, "If we put on a show, pretending that I’ve been convinced by you, Foster, after much persuasion to reluctantly agree to participate, could there be extra credit rewards?"

"Who knows~"

Foster shrugged, his finger gliding across the table edge, "So, Chief Priest Ramollok, would you care to share why you’ve suddenly decided to join the Warfire League?"

"Here’s the thing..."

Ramollok cleared his throat, attempting to conceal the excitement in his eyes while explaining, "I was previously invited to join as a jury member for the Comprehensive Knight Combat Tournament, and I unexpectedly discovered that the Black Vatican Priest from the Church of the Dawn is also participating in this exchange as a trainee. So... how should I put it, as a fellow clergyman and having studied that battle report, I’m a bit eager."

[Black Vatican Priest?]

Foster frowned, quickly recalling details about the individual, hesitated, "I see, but... to my knowledge, that Black Vatican Priest wasn’t invited to this season’s Warfire League. Did he participate in the preliminaries?"

"Eh?"

Ramollok was startled, surprised, "Didn’t you invite him?"

"As far as I know, no."

Foster nodded, contemplating, "It could be because the Black Vatican Priest is still young, hence not given much importance. Being from [Dan Slave Military Academy], I’ve heard instructors analyze the disaster in Misha County... To be honest, it seems quite surreal, as the instructors often treat those official battle reports as a joke, with the theme being somewhat impolite."

"..."

Ramollok was silent for about five seconds before sneering, his aura abruptly changing. His eyes, filled with a deadly aura, brimming with scorn and ridicule, "So, this is the caliber of instructors at [Dan Slave Military Academy]?"

"I’ll consider reporting your assessment of the Black Vatican Priest to the academy, Chief Priest Ramollok."

Foster remained indifferent to Ramollok’s dangerous vibe, stating calmly, "So, if we manage to get the Black Vatican Priest to participate..."

"I’d certainly want to spar with him."

Ramollok replied without hesitation, his previously sinister presence vanishing, as he tentatively asked, like a shy big boy, "But wouldn’t that be too troublesome for you?"

"I am, after all, the student union president of [Dan Slave Military Academy]. As the host institution, I am obliged to make this season’s league successful, and I do handle related tasks, albeit mostly order and security."

Foster shook his head, indicating that Ramollok need not worry.

"That’s great then."

Ramollok downed the cup of tea before him that had a clear warning of potential digestive issues on the label and stood up, smiling, "Then I’ll be waiting for good news?"

Foster nodded slightly, softly replying, "Leave the rest to me. If we confirm the Black Vatican Priest’s participation, we’ll notify you."

"Consider this a personal favor owed to you, Captain Foster."

Ramollok formally saluted Foster, smiling, "I’ll take my leave now."

Foster, ever composed, also smiled, "Goodbye."

With that, the briskly visiting Chief Priest of Dream departed swiftly, leaving the brightly lit law enforcement compound, only to stop in front of a peculiar darkness in an alley in Academy City’s Central District ten minutes later. He blinked at the unusual darkness, "Sorry, Lady Delfi, I seem to be late."

"Silence."

A sharp female voice echoed in Ramollok’s ears, followed by an imperceptible whisper, and an invisible wave spread, encompassing approximately a two-meter radius around Ramollok.

A slender, disheveled black-robed woman appeared silently before Ramollok, her beautiful, albeit slightly dirty, face with exaggeratedly painted black lipstick exuding an aura of darkness and morbidity.

Delfi Lesterange, the heretic among heretics, the pillar of the Northeast Diocese of the Whisper Sect, with a violent and capricious nature. She was the cousin of Lucius Leicester and also the blood relative of his son, Tom Leicester.

"Pleased to meet you, my Saint Heir!"

The woman, eyes gleaming, laughed exaggeratedly, "But we must be cautious. Danger lurks everywhere here, so greeting me without any precautions like you just did is... is... haha, extremely risky! Haha, whatever! In any case, the devout Delfi Leicesterange thanks you for your audience, wishing you good health!"

"Hello, Lady Delfi."

Ramollok adjusted his glasses and chuckled lightly, "Bringing you here at great risk is actually due to some unspeakable reasons, I have a... um, humble request."

"Oh? Does the Saint Heir intend to favor me? Favor me, Delfi Lesterange? Or do you want me to..."

"Bone, dear."

"What?"

"I need... your bone, Lady Delfi Leicesterange."

Chapter 1179: End

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