"There's nothing wrong with the young master's body. He is very healthy."
Madam Lisa said with a smile after finishing Karen's examination.
"Thank you, Madam."
"You are too polite, Young Master."
Karen looked at Mike, who sat in a wheelchair having accompanied his wife over for the checkup, and said, "Mr. Mike, please stay for a moment. There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
Mike was a bit surprised, but he nodded nonetheless. "Of course, Young Master."
Madam Lisa glanced at her husband, bid Karen farewell, and closed the study door behind her.
Karen glanced toward Alfred sitting at the secretary's desk nearby, the black cat sprawled on the desktop, and the golden retriever lying at the foot of the desk. He smiled and said, "Told you, nothing to worry about."
Ever since he began practicing spells that day—especially after casting the Spear of Punishment—Karen had spent an entire morning out in the manor's open clearing practicing every single day for a whole week.
Everything else was "supplementary"; only the Spear of Punishment had to be thrown out once a day.
Even though each use left him with a headache and a nosebleed, Karen persevered. Finally, just yesterday, the headache remained, but the nosebleed stopped—a tremendous step forward!
Karen's perception of his own body was that his reservoir was vast and contained an immense amount of water, yet when he needed to draw it outward, he could only pump it through a very narrow pipe. If the required flow was too rapid, that narrow pipe endured immense pressure.
He felt intense pain without ever passing out probably for this exact reason: his foundation was far too solid while his realm was too low, resulting in this sort of... happy trouble.
Purr and Alfred had urged him not to push himself so hard, but Karen stood by his choice.
In truth, Judia's sudden appearance last time had cast far too great a psychological shadow over him.
Whenever he remembered how powerless he had been to resist in that moment, an overwhelming surge of helplessness and fury welled up within him.
Treating her like a psychiatric patient just to carry on a conversation on equal footing, walking a tightrope with every interaction—such an experience offered no sense of achievement whatsoever, only sheer torment.
If only he had known the Spear of Punishment back then. Even if it couldn't blow Judia to pieces, it would have at least blown himself into oblivion.
Still, to ease everyone's concerns, Karen had invited Madam Lisa over today for an examination. She was trained in medicine, and owing to the family faith system, she could perceive certain peculiar conditions, making her diagnosis highly reliable.
Alfred let out a long breath of relief, a smile surfacing on his face.
The golden retriever, the cat scratch marks on its face not yet fully faded, wagged its tail cheerfully. Last time, because its dog scrawl had omitted the word "Primary," Purr had directly picked a fight with it.
Purr, meanwhile, rested its head rather helplessly on the desk, batting at a fountain pen cap with a paw.
A body reconstructed by an evil god;
The sole heir to the Inmerlais bloodline;
A purification ritual conducted by the God of Order;
The grandson of Diss...
Adding all these factors together, it seemed almost reasonable that he could trigger an offensive spell of such magnitude while still a God's Servant.
Yet Purr's attitude toward Karen was that he could entirely afford to advance steadily and prudently, as his ceiling was destined to be astronomically high; the cat simply didn't want to see him court danger or suffer any mishaps.
This could be considered... the mindset of an elder.
"Mr. Mike." Karen stepped out from behind the desk and walked over to Mike.
"Yes, Young Master."
"I intend to resolve your physical condition now."
"Really, Young Master?" Mike asked, deeply agitated.
In fact, Karen had mentioned this to him before. It was the solution provided by Lord Diss, and Mike had been waiting for it for a long time.
Seeing Karen complete his purification, Mike had constantly suppressed the urge to remind him. However, the explosions sounding almost like clockwork every morning over the past week had made his heart itch like a cat's claws scratching within.
He knew Karen was practicing, and he had even gone with his father and younger brother to observe.
His father had watched in tears. If even a God's Servant could unleash an offensive spell of that power, then once Karen truly matured, the Allen family would never again need to fear any Raphael family.
Mike harbored an extra measure of quiet joy compared to his father, for the more extraordinary Young Master Karen proved to be, the greater the certainty of curing his body!
People invariably placed stronger faith in things that transcended their existing comprehension.
"Yes, but it will require a bit of cooperation on your part."
"No problem at all, Young Master. Please proceed as you see fit; you don't need to consider my comfort."
Mike understood clearly that this treatment certainly wasn't a matter of prescribing medicine. The two chaotic elements currently clashing inside him were locked in daily deadlock; sorting them out would inevitably inflict agonizing pain. But he was willing to endure it, because he truly did not want to remain a useless burden to the family any longer.
"Alfred."
"Yes, Young Master."
Alfred rose, walked over to Mike, and extended both hands.
"Sir, I am going to lift you onto the desk."
"Alright, thank you for the trouble."
Karen picked up his water glass and walked to the window, gazing outside.
The view from the window was no longer as clear as before, because under Karen's orders, the Allen family members had installed sturdy security bars over the windows facing outside in both the study and the bedroom.
Although Old Anderson had explained to Karen that both rooms were protected by defensive arrays left behind by their ancestors when the castle was built, Karen had insisted on his orders.
So, if Judia wanted to climb up over the wall next time, she would have to demonstrate cutting through steel plates with water first.
At the same time, inside the two drawers beneath Karen's desk lay two loaded revolvers.
From behind him came Alfred's voice:
"Sir, I need to remove your clothes."
"Alright, sorry for the trouble."
"Sir, this is disposable underwear; I will help you put it on."
"Uh... alright, thank you very much."
"Sir, your chest hair is quite thick. Let me shave you first, if you don't mind?"
"Uh... alright, of course not."
"Young Master, everything is prepared."
"Good."
Karen turned around and looked at Mike lying on the desk; his chest was completely clean.
Whether the hair was shaved actually had no bearing on the treatment itself; it was primarily because Karen's fingers would be guiding energy across his chest.
Karen glanced at Alfred, who stood aside wiping the razor clean. Alfred simply continued tidying up diligently, pretending not to notice his young master's approving gaze.
Mike lifted his head. "Young Master Karen, is there anything else that needs preparing?"
Karen walked to the edge of the desk and pressed the desk bell.
Boge, who had been waiting outside, opened the door, stepped in, and approached the desk.
"Mr. Mike, I must share an unfortunate truth with you. The state of having water and fire coexist can no longer continue. I need to draw one elemental attribute out of your body, and I suggest we extract fire. That will offer a much higher chance of success."
"Alright, fire it is," Mike said. "Eldest Brother has fire, so I will firmly commit to water. Thank you, Young Master Karen."
"Mm."
Karen snapped his fingers at Boge. Once Karen extracted the fire elemental energy, that portion of power couldn't be wasted; it needed to be transferred into Boge's body.
Boge immediately stripped off his clothes, only to reveal that he had already put on disposable underwear well in advance.
Alfred swept a glance over him, and Boge offered a bashful grin.
"Get ready, it's about to begin."
Karen placed the five fingers of his left hand against Mr. Mike's chest. Without the texture of chest hair, it felt much more reassuring.
Closing his eyes, Karen began moving his left hand back and forth across Mike's chest in the next moment, maintaining a steady, even pace throughout.
"Mike, circulate your faith system."
"Yes."
Gradually, red and blue sheens surfaced across Mike's body, tangling together in chaotic disorder, and an expression of agony spread across Mike's face.
Alfred brought over a pen, gesturing that he could bite down on it.
Mike gritted his teeth and shook his head.
Karen continued tracing circles on Mike's chest in strict accordance with the circulation diagram Purr had given him, which he had committed to memory.
In truth, throughout the entire process, Karen wasn't applying any special abilities at all. He was merely using the tactile sensations of his fingertips to instruct Mike on how to circulate the energy within his own body along those paths.
In other words, even an ordinary person mimicking his movements could have accomplished this; it was just that before completing purification, Karen wouldn't have known when to proceed to the next step.
It was much like acupuncture: inserting a needle wasn't difficult; the difficulty lay in knowing where to pierce and how deep to go.
Purr had already solved the greatest obstacle, so what Karen needed to do was naturally far simpler.
Finally,
Across Mr. Mike's chest, the red and blue gradually separated into two distinct clusters. Though they remained as mutually incompatible as fire and water, for the moment at least, they were divided.
On the other side, because Boge had studied his own circulation diagram beforehand, he had already finished his preparations. However, the red glow on his chest was not as deep as Mr. Mike's—the disparity in realm—and Boge had only circulated red.
This was also why Karen had previously advised Mike to give up the fire attribute, as the family faith system roster recorded Boge at Rank One with a fire attribute.
In fact, the greatest difficulty in solving this problem was that the circulation route had to be designed according to each person's unique family faith system conditions and physical build.
Thus, at this stage, only Purr, who had once reached Rank Nine in the family faith system, could possibly design it. Anyone else, no matter how powerful, couldn't have pulled it off if they weren't from the Allen family.
"Boge, place your hand on him."
"Yes, Young Master."
Boge stepped forward and placed his palm against Mr. Mike's chest.
The two circulation paths acted like two mutually attractive arrays, reacting the instant they touched.
The red glow on Mike began rapidly transferring into Boge, while Boge swiftly absorbed the fire elemental power accumulated within Mike.
Karen released his hand and took two steps back.
Because this was a transmission of fire elemental energy, fire "ignited" across both of them in the next moment.
Mr. Mike's hair caught fire, as did Boge's;
Immediately after, both of their pairs of disposable underwear burned away as well.
The purpose of the disposable underwear was twofold: first, modesty, and second, it burned away so quickly that it wouldn't leave burns behind.
The agony on Mike's face gradually gave way to tranquility,
While the calm on Boge's face gradually shifted into pain, though he kept his teeth clenched, enduring it solely through heavy, forced breaths through his nose.
Karen watched Boge. Truth be told, this youth had originated from a brothel, yet he had seized the opportunity to return to the Allen family and break free from his original fate; he had sharp eyes and knew how to make decisive choices and grasp opportunities at critical moments...
Such a youth would undoubtedly hold the protagonist's script on any theatrical stage.
Karen had specifically discussed this topic with Purr, who slept at the foot of his bed, before turning in last night, as transferring the fire attribute power Mike intended to abandon to Boge had been Purr's idea in the first place.
Purr felt this "youth" had an ungrateful streak in his nature, yet at the same time, Purr valued him as a future hope for the family.
However, when Karen had teased that Boge had "the protagonist's script,"
Purr had merely chuckled and asked in return:
"Then what about you, Young Master?"
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
With simultaneous cries from both Mike and Boge, the transmission ceremony concluded.
Mike's eyes were entirely engulfed in pure, limpid blue. A layer of water mist surfaced across his body, gradually solidifying until it resembled a suit of armor.
In the next instant,
Mike stepped down from the desk. Beneath the armor, it was as if two legs supported him, not hindering his movement in the slightest—though naturally, such a state could not be sustained for long.
*Thud!*
Mike dropped heavily to his knees before Karen and said with heartfelt sincerity, "Thank you, Young Master! It was you who granted me new life!"
On the other side, the skin across Boge's body began turning deep red, but soon, he raised both arms, and the deep red receded, his complexion gradually returning to normal.
In his right eye, a crimson flame flashed and vanished—a color representing Rank Two in the family faith system!
Relying on the fire elemental power extracted from Mike, he had broken through.
Immediately, Boge knelt before Karen as well.
"Young Master!"
Boge spoke no other words, only striking his chest forcefully with his fist.
Karen looked down at the two kneeling figures and smiled faintly.
"You may put your clothes back on first."
...
"Young Master Karen, I cannot thank you enough for curing Mike, truly." Old Anderson walked behind Karen, speaking while wiping away tears.
Karen believed that this elderly man, who was so adept at acting, was genuinely moved in this moment.
"It is what I should have done," Karen said flatly.
"No, this is your grace upon the Allen family. From now on, the Allen family shall be your warhorse's hooves, your hunting falcon! Your will shall be the Allen family's direction!"
"You overstate it, sir."
If he were to wash his hands of everything and leave now, Allen Manor would probably cease to exist before long.
Still, Purr had been quite right about one thing: when it came to gathering materials and running errands, the support of a family was truly indispensable.
Karen had never expected that when he began studying arrays, even a minor beginner array would require such elaborate materials.
By this point, Karen and Anderson had reached the entrance of the castle. The performance hall in the distance had already been transformed into a massive mourning hall, and Prince Henry's funeral was scheduled for three days from now.
The remainder of Prince Henry's body truly could not be found, so a replacement torso had been specially forged from silver. When the time came, they would dress it in clothing, leaving only the head exposed.
If Aunt Mary were here, she would certainly have loved such an effortless job.
Just then, Karen spotted a group of people dressed in royal court attire arguing with Allen family workers near the performance hall;
A middle-aged man in official robes was speaking loudly with Mr. Bede.
"What's going on?" Karen asked.
Old Anderson replied, "Young Master, it's like this: we made our preparations according to your designs and procedure, but the palace protocol officer feels certain aspects violate royal etiquette and has been demanding that we change them."
"Then tell them that if they want it held here, they must abide by our rules. Otherwise, they are welcome to take the prince's head back to the royal palace.
"Don't worry, the royal palace will back down in the end."
After all, that old Queen was still planning to lodge here on the day of the funeral.
Old Anderson froze for a second, but quickly nodded. "Understood. I will go speak to them personally."
Karen simply sat down on the steps, watching Old Anderson reprimand the protocol officer from the royal palace and order all the accompanying palace masters of ceremonies thrown out.
Alfred and Boge stood behind Karen.
The wind outside was somewhat brisk, especially here at the entrance where a draft whistled through. Karen quietly pulled his collar up.
His gaze turned toward the performance hall as preparations resumed, watching groups of maidservants carrying various necessary supplies to arrange the displays, and footmen repairing the path running from the manor entrance to the performance hall.
In his ears came the sounds of the thorough cleaning underway within the manor behind him.
In truth, many of his designs didn't conform to true Vien aristocratic etiquette, let alone Vien royal etiquette.
The Inmerlais Funeral Parlor was merely a mid-tier establishment in Rojia City; forcing its practices here naturally caused many clashes.
Yet Karen simply wanted to indulge his whim like this.
On one hand, he knew the Queen would agree no matter what; on the other hand, Karen felt that perhaps... he missed home.
Aunt Mary humming in the basement, rejoicing over a job that paid well with so little work;
Uncle Mason bustling about out front, arranging and decorating;
Ron slacking off and dozing;
Aunt Winnie cross-checking the overwhelming guest list of dignitaries;
Mina, Lunt, and Chris acting as servers and preparing refreshments;
And upstairs in the third-floor study... Karen instinctively lifted his head, then slowly lowered it again. Grandfather was still asleep.
"Cough, cough..."
Karen began to cough, instinctively covering his mouth with a hand. Alfred stepped forward and draped an overcoat over Karen's shoulders.
Just then,
Madam Jenny and Eunice walked over from the performance hall. Seeing Karen sitting on the entrance steps, Madam Jenny smiled and said to him:
"Young Master, the arrangements for this funeral truly conform to our Ruilan customs."
Madam Jenny was originally from Rojia City, so she could naturally recognize where the details of this funeral hailed from.
"That palace protocol officer noticed it too, constantly whining that it wasn't traditional, but Father shouted him down and drove him off."
Speaking of this, Madam Jenny couldn't help but add her own personal grudge with visible satisfaction:
"Those Vien people have always looked down on our Ruilan customs and habits, constantly treating us Ruilanians like country bumpkins."
Evidently, ever since marrying into the Allen family, Madam Jenny had endured no shortage of such regional prejudice from Vien nobility at social gatherings.
Karen smiled.
"Since the funeral was designed by a Ruilanian like me, it must naturally follow our own rules..."
As he said this,
Karen suddenly froze.
A deep, unfamiliar voice suddenly resonated within his mind.
It seemed so far away,
Yet simultaneously so very, very close,
As if someone were shouting from the far side of a mountain forest, yet at the same time whispering right against his ear.
This was
A murmur from a god:
[Order is: what I decree, and what you must obey.]
Chapter 101