Chapter 71: The Mandate in Motion

[In Progress]

After Su Yida left, everyone looked at each other, unsure how to begin.

Several awkward seconds passed before Zhao Qian stepped forward, breaking the silence.

“I’m an Eagle-Eye Scout; sorry, but I need everyone’s cooperation—let’s fight.”

Eagle-Eye Scouts, hunters of [War].

As expected!

Cheng Shi guessed his profession, but never imagined he was a devotee of [War].

The edict of [War] is strife: in crowded places, simply pick two strangers you dislike and beat them up—that’s it.

Kepianpian ， Zhejuzaiyewai 。

Worse still, this group consists entirely of the elderly, weak, women, and children...

The only two who don’t fit that description—one already left, and the other is the one looking for a fight.

“......”

The silence grew even heavier than before.

Just by looking at the guy’s bulging muscles, you know this fight won’t be easy.

Before their edict, [War]’s followers may not have possessed many innate [War] talents, but their obsession with this path has long hardened their bodies far beyond ordinary humans through relentless warfare.

Moreover, during their edict, when watched by [War], they will unleash their full, frenzied combat power without holding back.

The opponent must endure the first onslaught to allow the [War] devotee to return to calm.

Zhao Qian’s expression was serious, unreadable; Cheng Shi glanced around and saw that Tao Yi and Gao Yu had no intention of becoming punching bags.

Sigh, there’s only this old man left—surely we can’t let an elder get beaten up.

This beating is almost certainly going to land on me.

But just as Cheng Shi was about to step forward and accept [War]’s challenge, to everyone’s surprise, the white-haired old man Cui Dingtian straightened up and stepped forward.

“Erk... I’ll fight you, I’m a Warrior—I can take it!”

Cheng Shi’s gaze sharpened as he stared at him.

This old man is a Warrior?

Indeed, [Decay] Warriors are among the few professions with exceptional defensive capabilities; unlike [Order] Warriors who protect the entire team, they focus solely on enhancing their own defense.

And this profession has another name everyone knows well:

Mummy.

They wrap themselves in dazzling exteriors, while inside, they are long since decayed.

Like a mummy buried by time.

“Mummy?”

Even Zhao Qian paused in surprise, but then nodded.

By this stage, very few people are unaware of their own limits; if the old man stepped forward, it means he can withstand the blows.

“Perfect. If you can endure my first strike, your edict is complete.”

The edict of [Decay] is accelerated decay—any injury, no matter how minor, counts.

So this fight is truly mutually beneficial.

“Watch out—my right punch packs serious power.”

With that, Zhao Qian’s eyes turned crimson as he lunged forward, feet slamming into the ground with a “whoosh,” colliding directly with Cui Dingtian.

The force of his step sank the soil beneath him, revealing his incredible speed.

“Thud—thud—thud—”

In an instant, their fists and kicks clashed, the sound of bone and muscle striking echoing louder than thunder at times.

Cui Dingtian, no longer hunched and frail, moved with startling sharpness and agility.

Yet his coughing didn’t stop—it grew worse.

Cheng Shi quietly shifted position, giving them ample space.

He plucked a blade of grass, placed it in his mouth, and sauntered over to Tao Yi and Gao Yu like a street hoodlum, grinning:

“Need a hand?”

Tao Yi, who had been smiling broadly, suddenly grew flustered, but the more reserved Gao Yu spoke first:

“I’m a Scholar of Knowledge, specializing in Mechanical Engineering. I don’t need you to share knowledge—I can impart one to you.”

Scholar of Knowledge, a mage devoted to [Truth].

This profession has the most variants of any existing class—without exception.

Just as [Order] mages, like Elemental Judges, can master a single element, Scholars of Knowledge choose different academic schools as their foundation for pursuing [Truth], branching into countless complex variants.

The Mechanical Engineering school focuses on mechanical constructs; their vision of [Truth] is: “Flesh is a burden; machinery endures.”

They believe the path to [Truth] is too long, and human life too short; if they can build endless mechanical replacements that constantly evolve, they can transcend the cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death, approaching Him through another means.

Cheng Shi suddenly understood, glancing casually at the bundle hidden beneath Gao Yu’s clothes.

It wasn’t weapons—it was his tools.

Clever kid—glad he didn’t stash his essentials in his personal space.

Followers of [Truth] have two edicts: auxiliary classes must receive knowledge, while offensive classes must spread it.

Cheng Shi, now intrigued, asked:

“So you’re the smartest Scholar of Knowledge? Go ahead—we’re all ears.”

Gao Yu smirked, paused thoughtfully, then shared his knowledge:

“ Lizhizhitaxukongzhinengxuepaidedaxuezhegeluocengzuoguoyigeshiyan ：

Using the [Truth Ritual] of the Scholarly Chair, he launched one hundred sourceless beacons into the Void.

Then, alongside his students, he carried one hundred beacon trackers, moving with them, aiming to recover them through a Void rift in Gasmela City, the farthest point from the Tower of Rationality.

If successful, this laborious experiment would prove that coordinates between the Void and reality are perfectly aligned.

But sadly, Glo failed.

Throughout the years-long journey, the trackers consistently sensed the beacons’ presence—yet upon reaching Gasmela City, they lost all contact.

Scholars of the Tower of Rationality unanimously deemed Glo’s theory absurd: the Void is the Void—it does not correspond to reality.

As a result, the great scholar lost his chance to join the Scholarly Chair, and died in despair.

Yet the very next day after Glo’s death, all one hundred beacons spilled out of the Void rift, raining down upon his funeral in Gasmela City.

His students wept uncontrollably, unable to accept this impossible sight.

They collected every beacon and found exactly one hundred—none missing, none extra—but each was incomplete.

When scholars who arrived upon hearing the news pieced together the missing fragments, they discovered that the broken parts, when aligned by their cut surfaces, formed a mask the exact size of a beacon.

The mask wore a mocking smile, as if ridiculing humanity’s futile and insignificant attempts to explore the Void.

The evidence was undeniable; the Tower of Rationality had to admit the scholar was right.

Worse still, they began to suspect that within the Void, which connects perfectly with reality, there might exist a [Deity] who delights in mocking humanity.

This was the first time in history that people truly sensed His presence...”

Cheng Shi listened, utterly bewildered.

He blinked rapidly, staring at Gao Yu in disbelief.

Are you trying to point something out to me, kid?

Did you figure me out?

That can’t be—it’s not like this high schooler is anything special; he couldn’t possibly have seen through my identity right away.

Was it just a coincidence?

This story—it’s definitely His doing!

That’s the kind of cruel, mocking prank only He could pull off!

Cheng Shi’s mind churned with suspicion; he glanced sideways and asked casually:

“Is this your so-called knowledge? Isn’t this just history from the Continent of Hope?”

“Studying the past helps us navigate the present—history is always knowledge!”

“Huh? What lesson does this story teach us?”

“Stay humble. Reverence the mysterious.”

“......”

To understand why [Deception] appears in the Void, one must first grasp this concept:

[Existence] is reality—that’s easy to understand; the traces left by [Nothingness] are the Void.

[Nothingness] itself is invisible, but when it begins to erode [Existence], it manifests vaguely in a form [Existence] can comprehend—and that form is the Void.

Cheng Shi chewed on his grass, observed for a moment, and confirmed: this kid had just stumbled upon the truth by accident.

“You know a lot about history?”

“I wouldn’t say I know much—I just love history. I’m a member of the Historical School.”

Oh, interesting!

When a child solemnly tells you they’re from the Historical School, you don’t call them a kid anymore—you call them “Kid Brother.”

The Historical School isn’t something just anyone can join; vast historical knowledge and encyclopedic familiarity with ancient events are merely minor entry requirements.

More importantly, every member must have personally witnessed a pivotal historical moment that reshaped the Continent of Hope—and documented it in meticulous chronicles.

In essence, the entire grand narrative of the Continent of Hope’s history was written by the Historical School.

It was they who displayed the history within the trial without omission before the eyes of everyone in the world!

But such a high membership requirement also means that members of the History School are almost all “chosen” history enthusiasts.

Because players in the [Faith Game] have no choice over trial scenarios—whatever they’re matched with is what they get—witnessing an epic history depends entirely on luck.

Cheng Shi suddenly felt very happy, because he had recently grown fond of history.

“May I boldly ask, young... Gao Yu, which historical period did you witness?”

“There are confidentiality levels within the school—it hasn’t been unlocked yet, so I can’t say.”

“......”

Got it, I’m not worthy.

Cheng Shi smacked his lips and turned back to look at Tao Yi, who had remained silent behind him.

“How about it, Miss Elf? How will you solve your fertilizer problem?”

Wood Elf, a mage who follows [Prosperity].

The decree of [Prosperity] is to accumulate nourishment to achieve lushness.

When the target of the decree shifts to humans, this system naturally becomes... eating!

And eat a lot!

Gorge themselves!

Under normal circumstances, followers of [Prosperity] never worry about food.

But today is an exception, because the personal storage spaces of all six people have been sealed off.

This poor pink-haired elf girl seemed to have lost her food source.

“I...”

Just as Tao Yi was flustered, Su Yi returned—he had left the group early and now held something in his hands, beaming:

“Tao Yi, quick! I found these mushrooms in the past of this land—how’s this? Enough to eat?”

Tao Yi turned in surprise and saw that Su Yi’s hands were indeed filled to the brim with mushrooms.

“Oh? You’re a follower of [Memory]? Thank you—this is perfectly timely!”

She happily ran over and took the mushrooms from Su Yi’s hands.

Yet to Cheng Shi’s eyes, this scene was utterly bizarre.

Because he saw absolutely nothing in Su Yi’s hands at all!

“Brilliant, absolutely brilliant—flawless performance.”

Cheng Shi muttered under his breath.