Chapter 43
43~First Use of Divine Analysis
“Tsk tsk, that guy Bryn is really unlucky. Finally gets a chance to show off among his peers, and it’s in the opening match with the highest exposure. But guess who he draws—Princess Felicia of all people. So much for making a name for himself. Now he’s just going to make a fool of himself,” John clicked his tongue, munching on a bucket of popcorn-like snacks, a pure spectator enjoying the drama.
“Is this Felicia really that strong?” Dylan asked.
“It’s not just a matter of strength. She’s the kind of person who’s…” John actually found himself stumped by Dylan’s question.
“Let’s put it this way: if this Bryn guy can last three moves against Her Highness Felicia, he’ll have bragging rights for a whole year.”
“There’s that much of a gap among the same generation of Divine Priestesses?” Dylan frowned.
“Let me put it in a way you’ll understand—you’re a human, right?”
“…What else would I be if not human?” Dylan rolled his eyes at him.
“The King of the Whiteglass Kingdom is also human. One is a sovereign with the noble Trosa bloodline, the other is a destitute Godchild with no bloodline and barely scraping by. Technically both humans, yet the gap is massive, right?” John casually used Dylan as an analogy.
“Same goes for Divine Priestesses. There are ‘kings’ and ‘commoners’ among them. Out of all professions, the gap between the floor and ceiling is the most extreme for Divine Priestesses.”
“There are many reasons for that—talent, resources invested, work ethic—but the biggest factor by far is bloodline.”
As John said this, Dylan recalled how even mid-level Divine Priestess families obsessed over bloodlines to the point of near-madness.
Part of it was pride and prestige, but more importantly, bloodline really did matter—a lot. It directly determined a Priestess’s potential, and no amount of hard work could compensate for it.
It was like breeding pedigree cats and dogs—mixing with impure blood only wasted the good genes.
Comparing noble Divine Priestesses to pets was crude, but it was the most straightforward way to put it.
Even John seemed a little uneasy broaching this subject—after all, Dylan himself was a victim of this kind of bloodline discrimination.
As Princess Felicia, the golden-eyed, amber-haired royal, stepped into the circular arena, the deafening cheers from the crowd nearly burst Dylan’s eardrums.
Most of the spectators in the student stands were male, all enthusiastically cheering for Felicia. But even among the girls, many blushed and watched her nervously.
Dylan’s sharp eyes caught it immediately.
John had been right about at least one thing—at Coleman Academy, strength, especially for a Divine Priestess, drew intense admiration. And this adoration crossed gender lines.
Especially someone like Felicia, who had it all: power, influence, the backing of the Whiteglass Kingdom—and looks that were easily top-tier.
Given all that, it wasn’t hard to imagine how Felicia had managed to do a 1v5 in the dorms. With so many impressionable female fans, getting them to warm her bed might really be just a word away—and they’d probably feel honored to be chosen by their idol.
In comparison, Bryn—who was standing opposite Felicia—looked completely miserable.
It wasn’t just that he got matched against Felicia in his very first match. He was standing right there on the stage, but no one even noticed him. All the attention was on Felicia. He was practically invisible, stuck there awkwardly with no idea what to do. Dylan felt secondhand embarrassment just watching.
“Damn, damn… the numbers… the gap is even worse than I thought. This is hopeless,” John cursed under his breath, eyes fixed on something.
“What is it?”
“Nothing much, I just used Divine Analysis to check Bryn and Felicia’s stats,” John said, shrugging. “I take back what I said earlier—this kid probably can’t even take one hit from the princess.”
Ah—Divine Analysis…
Dylan was curious too. With the enhancement from the Golden Chalice Butterfly, how much could his Divine Analysis reveal when scanning a Divine Priestess?
He activated it—and a torrent of data flooded his vision, nearly making his brain short-circuit.
It wasn’t clear whether it was due to the amount of data or the sheer strength of the target, but his mental energy was quickly overwhelmed.
With a throbbing headache, Dylan focused on reading Felicia’s data.
Divine Analysis didn’t give a simple combat power number. Instead, it presented a detailed display of various stats—strength, speed, jump capability—all highlighted in different colors.
White, yellow, green, blue, purple, black—the colors darkened with the stat level.
So no, it wasn’t intuitive. Divine Analysis didn’t show things like combat experience. Simply put, it showed raw stats.
But even raw stats weren’t everything. The most important measures for a Divine Priestess were her domain and Divine Authority.
Even so…
Strength: Amethyst
Speed: Emerald
Jump: Topaz
Endurance: Sapphire
Now Bryn’s:
Strength: Topaz
Speed: Topaz
Jump: Topaz
Endurance: Topaz
Four Topazes in a row.
The stat gap wasn’t just big—it was absurd.
Next up was Divine Authority.
“The match is about to begin. Contestants, please take your positions!”
“Felicia Trosa, First Princess of the Whiteglass Kingdom,” Felicia stepped forward and drew a weapon from her storage ring—
A crown greatsword, its blade so thick it could double as a shield.
“That weapon’s insane,” John swallowed hard. “If that thing fell on me, I’d be a smear on the ground.”
Despite the sword’s massive size and ornate design, the slender princess wielded it one-handed.
She gently drove the greatsword into the ground.
Boom boom boom! The shockwave kicked up a swirl of dust, silencing the entire crowd. No more cheering—only sympathetic looks directed at the poor guy about to get flattened.
“It’s an honor to cross swords with you,” Felicia smiled with calm confidence, holding the sword before her chest—not with a lady’s curtsy, but a knight’s salute.
“…Bryn Kaido.” Bryn gave a shaky nod, too nervous to even notice her beauty. After stating his name, he nervously drew his weapon—a decorative rapier.
Compared to Felicia’s massive sword, it looked like a toothpick. You’d wonder if it would snap in half the moment it clashed with her blade.
“Mr. Kaido, no need to be nervous. Think back to why you’re here, standing on the Coleman Academy arena. Everything will become clear,” Felicia said kindly, offering encouragement like a noble knight.
“We’re peers, aren’t we? Show me everything you’ve got. And in respect of your effort, I shall not hold back.”