Chapter 166: Welcome Ceremony (3)
The sharp crack of the blow echoed through the courtyard, plunging the entire place into a deathly silence.
Whether they were Elders or disciples, everyone stood there with their jaws hanging open. No one could process the absurd scene before their eyes.
A mere Mage Disciple... had just attacked a Sage and sent him flying?
How was that even possible?!
Priam was thrilled on the inside. He had moved with everything he had using the power of the wind, but the instant the branch struck its target, it felt like it had hit an impenetrable barrier for a brief moment.
Fortunately, the power contained within that branch was far, far beyond the level of a Sage. The very next moment, it pushed through and slammed into its target properly.
If he had tried to throw a punch, or do anything other than use that branch against a Sage, he would’ve definitely made a complete fool of himself.
As for the Law Elder, not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined Priam would have the audacity to attack him.
Completely unarmed and with his guard down, a mere mage trying to hit him?
It was like an ant trying to knock over an elephant. He didn’t even need to think about blocking—the natural defenses of his own body should’ve repelled the attack... but the result was the exact opposite.
The impact was so violent that his soul nearly got knocked out of his body.
"Well, now... this plot twist is a little cliché, but it’s definitely entertaining."
Mishnar, who had been watching everything with the greatest boredom in the world until then, finally stirred after seeing everyone stunned by what had just happened. Her eyes lit up with genuine interest. She was clearly impressed by the sheer balls that brat had.
"You little bastard...! Have you gone insane attacking someone here?!" The leader of the Law Elders needed two long seconds to catch his breath before roaring, his face twisted with rage.
Meanwhile, the Law Elder who had been struck slowly got back to his feet. But there was now a black mark on his face, visible to everyone, leaving them even more stunned.
"Easy there, sunshine. You’ve got it all wrong," Priam replied with a smug little grin.
"I wasn’t attacking anybody. I was just being a model disciple and acting 100% according to the very principles you people were preaching a second ago. I heard some clown yelling that anyone who insults a superior deserves a beating. Well, here I am, standing right in front of everyone, near the center of this ceremony, in an elevated position. Geographically speaking, that puts me in a superior position. When he opened his big mouth to interrupt me, he committed a serious offense. He was basically begging for it... and I simply did him the charity of helping him out. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to complain about my customer service now?"
Everyone swallowed hard.
But... it was actually true. In that enormous square, the disciples stood in the center, while the faction leaders occupied the innermost area in front of them. The Law Elders, meanwhile, remained farther away from the center, surrounding the area.
It was common knowledge in that world that, during ceremonies and events like this, the most important people stood in the center.
In theory, they were only supposed to observe, since they had no direct role in this welcoming ceremony. But that was only in theory. Nobody was stupid enough to believe the Law Elders ranked below the disciples.
The struck Law Elder ground his teeth so hard they nearly shattered.
He touched his face, feeling a strange energy invading his body. Even with all his power, he couldn’t remove it. That alone made him realize erasing that mark would be incredibly difficult.
"What unbelievable insolence!" the leader of the Law Elders bellowed, his voice nearly cracking with rage. "You dare spew such nonsense and create this kind of disturbance during the welcoming ceremony?! Prepare the thorn whip! This brat is going to be—"
"Quiet. I didn’t come to this sect to sit around watching a clown show," Priam interrupted, folding his arms with disdain. "You have absolutely no right to punish me. A bunch of clowns decided to call my soldiers trash, and I’m just here to give a voice to the people who actually shed blood. If pests like you choose to stand in my way, why shouldn’t I just walk right over you?"
Priam had completely let go of all restraint and spoke without caring about the consequences. After all, he was certain the leader of this place was on his side. As long as he was in the right, she would never allow those people to openly harm him.
"Do you really think your word is the absolute law of the universe? That everything you say automatically becomes reality? If you point your finger and call us guilty, we’re just supposed to accept it and die quietly? Looks like old age has finally made you senile. If you don’t have a solid argument to prove what you’re saying, stop talking shit and get lost."
"Hahaha..." A soft laugh echoed through the square. Everyone turned toward the Elder Leader in surprise.
"He’s right. Stop wasting our time and present your evidence."
Now everyone was certain of one thing. As long as nobody openly violated the sect’s explicit rules, Mishnar would simply grab some popcorn and watch the circus burn.
That woman was a living legend in the sect’s outer region. Her strength far surpassed that of every Elder present, and she had the authority to execute anyone she wished.
In any normal sect, nobody would even dare breathe out of rhythm in front of its leader. But in this branch of the outer sect, people openly fought with each other while she watched everything unfold as though she were enjoying an incredibly entertaining soap opera.
Priam couldn’t help but feel a little confused when he realized that.
Why did this leader allow this kind of behavior?
"I’ve already said this before, but I’ll say it again," the leader of the Law Elders took a deep breath before continuing in a serious tone.
"The sect’s entrance trial exists to select the most capable. Who here would dare say those mediocre mages from his faction are on the same level as everyone else? He clearly harmed our branch of the outer sect by protecting them."
Priam snorted.
"You people keep barking that the outer sect’s entrance trial is meant to select the ’most capable.’ Then tell me, what exactly does that air-filled head of yours think makes someone capable?"
"Humph! Are you seriously asking me that?" the leader of the Law Elders sneered. "Obviously, the most capable are those blessed with the most outrageous talent and genius-level comprehension."
Priam’s grin widened even further, as if he had just cornered an unbelievably stupid prey.
"Oh, I get it! So, following your brilliant logic, what’s the damn point of the entrance trial? Wouldn’t it be much easier for the sect to just look at everyone’s stat sheet and immediately approve whoever has the prettiest talent on paper? It’d save time, save blood, and spare us from having to listen to your annoying voice."
"Don’t be an idiot! Stats on paper are nothing but dead numbers!" the leader of the Law Elders shot back, diving headfirst into the trap Priam had laid. "Without a baptism of blood and the desperation of a real fight for survival, how are you supposed to identify someone’s true potential?"
Priam almost burst out laughing.
"Exactly, idiot. As someone who’s been in the sect for so long, you should know perfectly well the purpose behind each of the three entrance trials. Right?" Priam took a step forward, his voice echoing throughout the courtyard.
"In the final trial, I only gave them a little push at the beginning so they wouldn’t get devoured right away. I didn’t interfere from the very start. I let them fight for their lives with their own hands. Once it became clear who the most determined and focused ones were—those who fought with everything they had, without hesitating or running away—I took them in."
Priam spoke slowly. Every soldier in his faction held their breath as they remembered that final moment, when they had fought with everything they had to survive while relying on nothing but the rejected.
Many died, but they endured. The only thing they could think about was that they couldn’t fall, because if they did, everyone else would die too.
They wished with all their hearts that they could win. They poured every last drop of energy into that single goal.
But of course, under those circumstances, all that effort alone was useless.
"They may have been born with less talent than those raised inside the sect, but the willpower and courage of these men and women are unshakable. Do you have the slightest idea of the hellish price they paid just to be standing here today?" Priam continued, his tone now grave.
"They started from the bottom, far from the sect’s protection and with far fewer resources. To reach the same level of glory as everyone else, they had to work at least ten times harder. They stared straight into the abyss itself and walked back out as battle-hardened warriors. And you dare call them trash? Take a good look in the mirror, because the only useless, cowardly piece of trash here is you!"
Priam’s sharp words landed like a bomb, instantly drawing every disciple’s eyes toward the group standing behind him.
Even those who had been born inside the sect silently found themselves agreeing with Priam. On the path of Magic, talent might give you a head start, but determination is what carries you across the finish line.
The leader of the Law Elders made an incredibly ugly expression.
"Enough with this cheap underdog drama! None of that motivational nonsense matters. The cold, undeniable fact is that you dragged a bunch of dead weight into the sect, completely destroying the fairness and impartiality of the judgment!"
This time, even the other Law Elders standing nearby felt secondhand embarrassment.
How could their leader keep insisting on such a pathetic argument after seeing his entire line of reasoning completely torn apart?
What was the point of forcing young mages to their limits to select the best if natural talent was all that mattered?
Sometimes, a mage simply needed more time and better resources to reveal their true strength. It was a principle the entire sect understood.
Because of that, the entrance trial wasn’t meant to judge the current strength of the young mages directly.
The first trial evaluated how much effort each person had devoted to their own training. It was a relatively simple test of individual survival ability.
The second trial evaluated each participant’s willpower and mental resilience.
The third trial evaluated teamwork and the determination to overcome obstacles as a group.
Priam’s claim that he hadn’t helped that large group from the very beginning was proof that he had fully understood what the final trial was actually meant to select.
That group of rejects, without a Super Genius to help them, had absolutely no chance of surviving. So would it really have been fair to simply let them die, even after they had demonstrated they possessed exactly the qualities the final trial was designed to identify?
Priam’s argument was extremely solid. The trial wasn’t perfect—in fact, there was no way to create something truly perfect.
Priam had done the right thing by protecting those who genuinely deserved to enter.
In the future, young mages like them, with access to everything the sect had to offer, would surely not fall behind those who had been born within the sect itself. The sect’s history was full of examples like that.
In that sense, Priam had done the sect a huge favor. He had brought more capable disciples into its ranks instead of letting them die for nothing.