"Military Venerable, it was highly inappropriate for you to summon Heavenly Pavilion and question them in public!" said the Poetry Sage.
Indeed. The Martial Saint was a saint, and saints had dignity. Such a sensitive matter should not have been raised before everyone in the lower realms. He should have communicated with Heavenly Pavilion privately.
That way, no matter how Heavenly Pavilion answered, the Holy Hall's dignity and the saints' glory would at least remain unharmed.
Yet the Martial Saint had refused private communication and questioned Heavenly Pavilion before everyone.
With that question, the Martial Saint had placed himself in danger. It would have been one thing if Heavenly Pavilion directly granted the Military School its quota, but if Heavenly Pavilion showed even the slightest hint of refusal, the Martial Saint would lose all face.
And how could Heavenly Pavilion possibly grant the quota directly?
The saints had basically reached a consensus: they intended to contend with the Martial Saint again over this quota issue.
Even if they could not win the contention, they had to deliver a head-on blow to the swollen Military School faction.
Let him bear the Military School's name while being denied Literary Rank quotas for a long time. Whenever this matter came up, it would drive the Martial Saint's prestige down to freezing point again and send the morale of his Military School faction plunging a thousand fathoms.
Who would have thought that the Martial Saint had long seen through their calculations?
He had asked the question publicly. He had staked his own Saintly Name. He intended to flip the table outright. That overwhelmingly forceful attitude instantly sent shock through the hearts of the saints of the Third Heaven...
The Wisdom Sage sighed softly. "Place oneself in death and then seek life—this too is the