Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

A plant of the Asteraceae family, with a pungent smell, yet it's that person's most hated flower.

“Bella…” She stroked the glass bottle, a ripple of emotion welling in her grey eyes. “If it were you, would you forgive me for looking at this girl with similar eyes?”

No one answered. Only the wind after the rain whistled through the cracks in the window.

......

The following morning, in the arbitration tribunal's archives.

Charlotte sat at the long table, surrounded by case files awaiting classification. Morning light streamed through the high windows, casting a warm glow on her blonde hair.

"An assessment of clerical work." Melvis entered, and since they both knew what had happened that day, he didn't say much, but simply placed a thick stack of documents on the table. "The criteria are to classify these cases according to their level of danger, mark key information, and then file them. Ms. Z will come to check on them later."

“I understand.” Charlotte nodded, her emerald eyes calm as still water.

Melvis didn't leave immediately, but leaned against the table to observe. A vampire's keen senses can detect the most subtle changes in expression, but she couldn't read anything unusual on the girl's face—no tension, no arrogance, only focus and calmness.

"Is there a problem?" Noticing the lingering gaze, the girl deliberately looked up to ask.

"No." The former straightened up, tilting his gaze slightly to the side. "I'm just curious, how did you master the 'Favored One' potion in just one month?"

Charlotte's fingers paused for a moment at the edge of the document before continuing to smoothly turn the pages. "Just as I told Ms. Z, understand the nature of the 'favored one,' and then practice it."

"It may seem simple to just listen, but in reality, most extraordinary individuals often need several years to truly grasp the essence of their own sequence."

“Yes, it’s certainly not easy.” The girl’s voice was soft yet firm. “It requires complete trust in oneself, disregard for the prelude to fate, and belief that every encounter is a blessing.”

Melvis frowned slightly and asked doubtfully, "You did it?"

“I’m trying.” Charlotte looked out the window, sunlight casting shadows beneath her eyelashes. “Perhaps it’s because I have nothing left that I can more easily appreciate the feeling of being blessed.”

Her voice was as calm as still water, “When the arbitration tribunal gave me shelter, Ms. Z did not hide her concern, her gratitude…like a thirsty traveler finding an oasis.”

“I am so grateful to have met her, to have met you, and to have met Pedeline. This has made me no longer a lone bird, and it has made me no longer feel lonely. Isn’t that a blessing in itself?”

Melvis paused for a moment, then awkwardly turned his face away, no longer asking questions.

Straightforward words are always easy to touch the heart, especially when the object is just a little hedgehog who has raised its quills due to setbacks and is full of disappointment.

When the archives door opened again, and the figure of the dark-haired beauty appeared in the doorway, she saw the two people standing very close together, and a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes. "Did I disturb you?"

Melvis straightened up quickly, his face regaining its professional indifference. "No, Ms. Z. I was merely explaining the test rules to Charlotte."

Ms. Z approached, her solid-colored coat outlining her slender figure. Her gaze swept between them, finally settling on the stack of documents in front of Charlotte, which was already being sorted. "How's it going?"

“One-third is already done,” Charlotte replied with a smile. “Although there are a lot of these cases, the classification logic is very clear.”

As she picked up the top document and flipped through it, the beautiful woman's eyebrows slightly rose.

Charlotte not only categorized the cases according to their level of danger, but also made detailed annotations on the edges of each case, and even pointed out several contradictions in the original records.

“Impressive,” she said softly, her fingertips tracing the neat and elegant handwriting on the page. “These annotations show that in just one month, you have gained an unexpected understanding of the arbitration tribunal’s procedures.”

"These cases involve occult knowledge...some of which even formal members need to consult materials to make a judgment."

Upon hearing this, the girl lowered her eyes, letting her long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. "I spent a lot of time in the library. After losing my parents... work became my best solace."

Tragedy always seems to silence others, silencing their words and refusing to speak.

A barely perceptible tenderness flickered in Zelena's eyes. She closed the file, her voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority. "The administrative evaluation concludes here. The Swordholder will now be responsible for the subsequent review."

The structure of the Church of the Primordial Goddess is not complicated. Bishops in various regions are assigned specific duties, and there are also senior deacons who patrol major cases. They are the high-ranking people in the usual sense, and are basically extraordinary beings in the middle and high ranks.

These dozens of gentlemen and ladies are completely equal in status, follow only the oracle of the Primordial Goddess, and are accountable only to the Pope of Florence.

"Don't worry, I just spoke with her. She was very kind, and you might even feel a little familiar with her."

Based on the current context and the information conveyed in the sentences, Charlotte already understood why Ms. Z was familiar with the examiner.

Sure enough, as the beautiful woman led her through the narrow corridor and pushed open the carved oak door, a familiar figure came into view.

Wearing a clean judge's robe and a pair of cool-toned boots, with his upright posture and dignified appearance, a solemn and dignified aura naturally arises.

Her cheeks were not plump, but her brow bones were deep, her eyes were cold, and her whole figure exuded a sharpness, like a drawn blade. She was none other than the goddess sword, Sylva, whom she had met before.

“Miss Oushaw, it’s been a long time since I last greeted you.”

The tone was cold and flat, devoid of any warmth or greeting, offering only an explanation of the trip.

“I have been commissioned by the Pope to examine the spiritual connection of this ascension, as my recent mission is nearing its end.”

"Of course, even without the order, as the person who first recommended you to join the church, I should have been present and take full responsibility for what happened afterward."

The crimson greatsword stood horizontally in the center, its crimson hue resembling the standard of a scale.

“Charlotte, sit there. I will test your ability to digest potions and your control over your spirit.”

Without hesitation, the girl obediently bent down and sat quietly on the stand-alone high stool.

As the sound faded and the person drew near, Silva didn't linger. She removed her gloves, her fingertips hovering three inches above Charlotte's temple. In her spiritual vision, the blonde girl was surrounded by a pale blue halo, as pure and translucent as the veins of a new leaf in early spring—a clear sign that the 'Favored One' potion had been fully absorbed.

“Your spirituality is like moonlight after it has been washed clean.” The white-haired beauty nodded slightly, her eyes rippling. “Pure, saturated.”

Charlotte lowered her eyes, feeling the cool touch on her forehead.

She knew, of course, why her spirituality was so pure—those delirious musings and illusions that should have entangled newly ascended extraordinary beings had long been filtered out by the 'nest' level of spirituality in another body, or perhaps, the ocean that had been cultivated since her initial ascension could accommodate all waves.

At this moment, she deliberately let a wisp of spirituality flow back along the path the other party had explored, like a fledgling bird returning to its nest gently pecking at its owner's fingertips.

This is destined to be a flawless answer.

..............

Chapter 191 Obedience and Pampering

As the sensations shifted, Silva withdrew his fingertips from his yang acupoint, the strange look in his eyes hard to conceal.

The spiritual feedback was bidirectional; she could sense that Charlotte's spirituality was not only pure but also carried an almost instinctive closeness and trust—a rarity among newly minted extraordinary individuals.

“Your spirituality… is very special.” The beautiful woman’s voice was still cold, but the lines of her eyebrows were slightly softer, “like a stream blessed by the moonlight.”

Charlotte looked up, her emerald eyes reflecting the other's image. "Is this a good thing, Ms. Sylva?"

"At least it's not a bad thing. I've heard Zelena's introduction. She wrote down her thoughts in detail. Did you understand the essence of the 'favored one' through your past experiences and comparisons between the two?"

"It wasn't that clear. I just took Ms. Z's kindness towards me and the concern of my colleagues as a favor."

"The sorting of archives and the reading of classics allowed me to see many insights from the experiences of my predecessors. In their descriptions, they often put themselves into the identity given by the sequence and played the role of a truly extraordinary person."

Charlotte answered frankly, without elaborating further.

"I summarized their words and tried to deepen my inner desires. It was clear that the digestion was more effective than I had expected, and I quickly mastered the potion."

Without uttering any questions, Silva simply listened and nodded slightly to indicate her knowledge and tacit approval.

"Throughout its long history, the Church has gradually discovered ways to minimize the risk of losing control through generations of extraordinary geniuses."

After a moment's thought, she raised her voice again, expanding on the previous explanation.

"The core of this method is the name of the potion. It is not only the key but also the crucial element. Our predecessors discovered that the names of potions all point to a certain type of group, and each group has similar but unique behavioral patterns. Simply put, the names of potions contain certain rules. Different potion names contain different rules. When we strictly abide by the rules contained in our own potions, the risk of losing control will be minimized."

"Similar to what I tried?"

Charlotte skillfully interjected, making a perfectly timed response.

"Yes. When extraordinary individuals follow the corresponding rules of conduct, they appear to become the kind of group described by the name of the potion. In other words, we are playing the profession indicated by the name of the potion. Well, this is the method of role-playing. You must remember that everyone's spirituality is special and unique. Compared with people who have taken the same potion, the core part of the rules of conduct that need to be followed will not change, but the corresponding boundaries will have their own characteristics and will not be similar. This is especially true for the path of the Favored Ones. Therefore, other people's experiences can only be used as a reference."

"It is indeed a rare talent that you can embark on the right path without guidance through self-observation and hypnosis."

It's a compromise of praise, used to shift the topic of conversation.

"So, the second question is, how do you view the relationship between the arbitration tribunal and the goddess?"

There was no rush for an immediate reply. Twilight streamed through the high window, bathing the young woman in an almost transparent glow. When she spoke again, her words carried a wisdom beyond her years.

"The tribunal is the scales in the hands of the goddess, and we... are the weights that maintain the balance. Weights that are too heavy will break the scales, while weights that are too light will not be able to measure justice."

Silva fell silent. For the first time, her expression shifted. She turned to Zelena, thinking to herself, "Did you teach her this?"

Ms. Z shook her head, her eyes also filled with surprise: "No, this is her own realization."

After a long silence, the white-haired beauty walked to the longsword standing in the center of the room, lightly stroked the scabbard with her fingertips, and spoke. "The final test."

As the sword, which had been tightly wrapped in cloth, was drawn out, the surrounding radiance was drawn to it, becoming a chilling, gleaming light.

A gas lamp burned silently, yet it couldn't illuminate the small room. The crimson sword, which judges justice, quietly emitted a cold light, like the moon hanging high in the night, comforting people, like a lighthouse marking the way in a storm, and like a warning to those who overstep their bounds.

Its surface appears pure and flawless, but upon closer inspection, one can discover that the blade is covered with layers of symbols and markings, and these mysterious patterns form an inseparable whole with the blade.

"Tell me, what do you see in this blade of judgment?"

As the words faded, the intricate inscriptions, adorned with a halo of light, outlined exquisite trapezoidal engravings. Charlotte focused her gaze slightly and noticed a line of small characters written on the spine of the sword—

"The blade of justice must be sheathed with compassion."

She read it aloud softly, without avoiding the former's gaze.

“This is the creed of the Swordholder.” Hearing this, Silva’s voice grew even softer, even encouraging. “How would you interpret this belief?”

"Justice needs sharpness, but too much sharpness is easy to break." The upright sword parted the girl's delicate face, and she murmured to herself, "Too sharp will hurt the innocent, too dull will fail to uphold justice."

"Compassion is not weakness, but ensuring that every strike is precise."

The girl's voice was calm yet firm.

The praise was welling up in her throat, and Silva's lips curled up almost imperceptibly. However, in the next instant, she turned the sword hilt and thrust the blade straight at the former's slender neck.

"When faced with coercion and life-or-death situations, can you maintain this resolve without wavering or compromising?"

The sword's edge was only millimeters away from that pale skin, the cold metallic aura stimulating her senses. Zelena subconsciously took a step forward, but was stopped by a look from Silva.

Charlotte didn't back down, or even blink. Her emerald eyes remained calmly fixed on the sword tip so close to her, her breathing perfectly steady.

“The real threat won’t be revealed beforehand,” she said softly. “But I think the goddess gave us judgment so that we could make choices in such moments.”

"What choice?" The blade of justice remained unmoved.

“Choose to trust.” The girl raised her hand, her slender index and middle fingers gently pinching the sword, her movements as delicate as picking up a flower petal. “The test of trusting one’s companions has its own profound meaning, and trusting the guidance of the goddess will not lead to mistakes.”

The sword trembled slightly at her fingertips, emitting a clear, melodious hum. A flicker of surprise crossed Sylva's eyes—this weapon, blessed by the goddess, usually only resonated with pure souls.

The white-haired beauty slowly sheathed her longsword, turned to look at Zelena: "Her spirituality is pure and abundant, and her understanding of extraordinary knowledge is also thorough." After a pause, she added, "She is more outstanding than any other newly ascended member I have ever seen."

It was a tone of praise, which was especially rare for this usually cold-faced swordsman.

The worry in Zelena's gray eyes finally dissipated, replaced by a complex sense of relief: "So, this promotion assessment..."

“In principle, there’s no problem.” The longsword was sheathed, the clanging of metal ringing out crisply in the quiet room. “But we need to be more vigilant. Those with exceptional talents are often an unusually high-risk group.”

Her pauses and shifts in tone always preceded praise or criticism, followed by a formal announcement.

Charlotte Earl.

"Based on today's assessment, the Arbitration Tribunal acknowledges that you have successfully digested the 'Favored One' potion. Your application for advancement to Sequence Eight will soon be submitted to the Holy See headquarters, and final approval is expected within a week."

The blonde girl's eyebrows were slightly raised, but her expression was impeccable—except for Zelena standing to the side, no one noticed the slight trembling in her fingertips.

“During this period,” Silva continued, “you will receive my direct guidance in preparation for a possible promotion.”

She paused for a moment, then said, "See you at the training ground at dawn tomorrow."

As the white-haired beauty's footsteps faded at the end of the corridor, Charlotte deliberately let out a sigh of relief. She turned to Zelena, her emerald eyes shining brightly in the twilight: "Ms. Z, did I pass?"

The dark-haired beauty didn't rush to speak. She simply walked closer to Charlotte, reached out and brushed away a stray strand of hair damp with sweat from Charlotte's forehead. This sudden act of intimacy stunned Melvis, who was watching from the sidelines.

“Of course, things won’t be too complicated. Although Silva is strict, her judgment is never wrong. If she says you’re ready, then you’re definitely ready.”

It is a gentle comfort.

"No need to be nervous, good girl, you did very well. One of the advantages of the Swordholder coming to inspect is that there is no need to apply to the Sanctuary again and go through complicated paperwork. She can decide on the spot whether to deliver the next sequence of potions and rituals to you."

Charlotte's fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the table, her knuckles turning bluish-white. She lowered her eyes, letting her thick eyelashes feign conceal the turbulent emotions within: "Thank you, Ms. Z."

“You earned this yourself.” As Zelena withdrew her hand, her sleeve brushed against the girl’s tense hand. “I was just doing my duty.”

As dusk deepened outside the window, the last ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, enveloping the three in an amber halo. Melvis suddenly coughed lightly: "Now that the assessment is over, I'll take my leave to continue with the tasks I haven't finished today."

She wanted to slip away to avoid the atmosphere getting too tense, but Pedeline's voice came first from the end of the corridor: "Charlotte! How did the test go? Oh, Melvis's here too, oh, good evening, Ms. Z!"

The lively girl rushed towards the three of them like a sea breeze, carrying a bag of soft white bread in her hands.

The rich aroma of wheat filled the archives room. Pedeline proudly handed the paper bag to Charlotte: "I went to that old shop in the East End to buy it, and waited in line for half an hour! The owner said freshly baked honey bread brings good luck—"

She suddenly fell silent, her gaze shifting between the three. Melvis stared at the newcomer, a hint of disdain flickering in his eyes. "It seems someone cares more about the assessment results than we do."

"I, I just..." Pedeline's ears turned red, her fingertips unconsciously kneading the bread bag in her arms, making a soft, muffled sound. "Right, right, I heard that shop uses a kind of bread, called, called..."