146: Chapter 146 The Beauty Pageant Ends! Cecilia's Panic!

Inside the hall of Golden Flame Castle, fifteen charming young girls filed in under the guidance of servants.

The evaluation continued, and the results left Rowan slightly surprised.

[Scores]: 83, 81, 79, 85, 76, 78, 72, 84, 80, 77, 89, 75, 82, 78, 81.

Among the fifteen, more than half had scores reaching above 80!

The highest score reached 89.

That young woman had a gentle temperament and smiling eyes; it was said she was proficient in herbs and conditioning.

Another person reached 85 points.

She was tall with a cold and glamorous temperament; it was said she came from a fallen knight family with impressive swordsmanship, and was currently just an Apprentice Knight.

The lowest score was 72.

The overall quality of this batch of A-grade candidates was also very high.

Clearly, the merchant guilds had conducted strict evaluations during the screening process to gather so many high-quality candidates.

"Keep them all," Rowan whispered to Lady Lillian.

These fifteen people were all precious talents possessing special skills.

Even the lowest score of seventy-two was enough to keep them; after all, many of the original maids in the castle could barely reach sixty.

Last to appear were the large number of unrated young girls, but according to the evaluations of the major merchant guilds, they were all above the passing line.

They were led into the hall in groups of twenty.

Then, they stood in the hall for a moment for Rowan to evaluate before leaving.

The panel produced scores extremely quickly.

Except for the occasional score above eighty which he would glance at more closely, he swept his gaze over the others, and the evaluation speed quickened significantly.

Light and shadow shifted within the hall, and the young girls appeared and disappeared like a revolving lantern.

Some were bright and flamboyant, some delicate and timid, some steady and quiet, and others had lively eyes.

Expectation, nervousness, curiosity, bewilderment, ambition... all sorts of fresh emotions rose and fell in the empty hall like a silent tide, then dissipated.

Rowan nodded as he watched, and the scribe made marks next to their names: [81 points], keep; [73 points], acceptable, keep; [68 points], mediocre, send back; [71 points], gentle temperament, keep.

Time passed quietly, and the daylight outside the window turned from pale to dusk.

When the last young girl left the castle hall, Rowan slowly stood up.

"My Lord, the recording is complete," Lady Lillian's voice echoed in the hall.

"Six S-grade, all retained. Fifteen A-grade, all retained. Among the qualified unrated candidates, as per your approval, ninety-three are retained. A total of one hundred and fourteen people retained."

Rowan heard this and pondered deeply.

One hundred and fourteen people.

This was the essence he had obtained after spending 1.2 million gold coins to wash through the common young girls of the Northern Territory and even further regions.

The average cost exceeded ten thousand, exhausting the past accumulated and future wealth of a top-tier Northern Territory commandery city; the cost was by no means small.

But, it was worth it!

Among the one hundred and fourteen people, nearly thirty had scores exceeding 80, and there were two with scores above 90.

The remaining eighty-plus people had scores no lower than 70, possessing a certain potential for cultivation.

Not bad, very not bad.

The nutrients from the blooming of one hundred and fourteen fresh flowers were enough to push him to High-Order Grand Knight.

This was the realm that Count Farrell had spent his entire life, even going so far as to collude with evil cults, trying to break through to.

But now, relying on his position as the Lord of Gino City and leveraging the power of worldly wealth, he could easily pluck it.

Elegant and efficient.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but smile gently and said to Lady Lillian: "You go and arrange the follow-up matters."

Lady Lillian had long since taken in Rowan's expression.

The pressure of raising funds, dispatching personnel, and calming public opinion over these past days finally dissipated with his single sentence.

She covered her lips and chuckled, her eyes flowing with a brightness full of relief: "Yes, my Earl."

The night was deep.

In the west wing of Gino Castle, a relatively independent and quiet room was assigned to Cecilia.

A wall lamp with soft light was on in the room.

Cecilia was not asleep.

She stood by the window of the room, looking at the deep night sky outside, her mood complex.

Her original dress had long been changed; she was currently wearing only an ivory silk nightgown sent by the castle maid, the texture exceptionally soft and smooth.

The nightgown's style was simple, but the cut was extremely fitting, outlining the supple and vital curves of her young body.

The V-neckline opened just right, revealing a section of slender, delicate collarbone and a touch of skin as lustrous as jade in the dim light.

Her soft long hair had not yet completely dried, carrying the dampness after a bath, draped loosely behind her shoulders, adding a rare sense of fragility to her face that combined wild beauty with a young girl's charm.

She lowered her eyelids slightly, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow under her eyelids.

Deep in her light brown eyes, however, there was no submission or shyness, but a deeply suppressed vigilance, bewilderment, and a trace of unreal trance.

She unconsciously brushed over the silky fabric of the nightgown; the touch was cool, yet it seemed to carry a scorching temperature.

Everything in the room was completely different from the dilapidated base of the Gray Falcon Mercenary Group.

The solid wood furniture carved with intricate patterns, the landscape oil paintings hanging on the walls, the slender-necked crystal bottle placed on the small table, and even the carpet beneath her that was thick enough to submerge her ankles.

Everything was so luxurious and exquisite.

But she only felt a heartfelt trepidation.

Just half an hour ago, that taciturn middle-aged maid, after serving her bath, had told her in a calm, waveless voice: "The Count will come over later..."

There was no explanation, no questioning, as if this were just a scheduled appointment.

The maid bowed and retreated after speaking, gently closing the door, leaving Cecilia alone to face this sudden verdict that carried an implication of absolute control.

In that instant, she almost wanted to escape the castle regardless of the consequences.

She was not a naive and ignorant girl; living in a place like Ascalon and mingling in a mercenary group, she naturally understood the most direct meaning behind these words.

She knew what this meant.

This was an opportunity to get close to the target.

But it was also... the most direct and unavoidable part of the mission's cost.

The girl's bewilderment spread quietly in her heart like an indelible vine.

But immediately after, she thought of the signed contract and the current plight of the Gray Falcon Mercenary Group.

A tougher, mercenary-like resilience and determination quickly suppressed it.

She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and forced herself to calm down.

"Expected it... This is the necessary cost of the mission," she repeated to herself in her heart.

She had no retreat, nor should she hesitate.

It was just that when the expected moment truly approached, when she was alone in this room full of strange noble atmosphere, she still felt somewhat at a loss.

Time passed, and she didn't know how long it had been.

A faint sound of footsteps came from outside the door, steady, composed, and unhurried.

The footsteps stopped at the door, paused slightly, and then the doorknob was gently turned.

Cecilia's body tensed almost imperceptibly for a moment, then she forced herself to relax.

She raised her head, her beautiful eyes, like a startled little beast, looking towards the oak door that was being slowly pushed open.