Karen's Path

It had been a deep, heavy sleep, without a single dream. Upon waking, Karen sat up in bed, silently gazing at the colored patterns on his blanket, zoning out for a short while. He got out of bed, stepped into the washroom, undressed, and began to shower. Sleeping at the foot of the bed, Purr was startled awake. Accompanying a feline stretch with a yawn, the cat leapt onto the nightstand and pressed the service bell. Too lazy to scurry all the way back to the foot of the bed, she simply curled up under the covers where Karen's warmth still lingered to snatch some more sleep. By the time Karen finished showering, Kevin the golden retriever padded in with a clean white towel in his mouth. Karen took it and began drying off, while the golden retriever used his paws to neatly lay out the non-slip mat at the washroom door. Karen dressed and walked out just as the bedroom door pushed open. Alfred entered carrying a tray of breakfast. Karen sat down on the sofa, looking at the breakfast already laid out on the coffee table. Having built up an appetite, he was no longer picky about his food, eating in quiet concentration. This time, hardly a crumb was left. "Young Master, shall I prepare some more?" "No need, I'm full." Karen took the damp towel from Alfred's hands, dabbed his mouth, and then folded it over to wipe his hands. At that moment, Purr finally woke from her extra nap. Her feline limbs stretched in a long, luxurious arch before she hopped off the bed and strolled over to the sofa, fixing her amber cat eyes upon Karen in an earnest, unwavering stare. Karen rose from the sofa, walked over by the pool table, and pushed open the window. A chilly morning breeze blew in, though having just eaten, he didn't feel cold in the least. Alfred stepped forward to rack the balls. "No need to set them up. I just wanted some fresh air." "Understood, Young Master." "Yesterday, I completed God's Revelation and heard the voice of the God of Order." Alfred remained silent. "Woof!" "What revelation did the God of Order give you?" Purr pressed inquisitively, like an aunt prying into what job you were assigned after graduation. Karen shook his head and said, "I didn't listen." The dog's eyes went wide. Purr tilted her head. Alfred, however, took on an expression of utter naturalness and quietly puffed out his chest. "Because I thought what he said was wrong." Karen had no desire to explain further, instead gesturing toward the bed. "You can go take a look at my notebook." "Woof?" "Really? We can look at your notes?" Purr asked. "Right away, Young Master." Alfred walked to the bedside, retrieved the notebook, squatted down, and opened it. A cat's head peered over his left shoulder, and a dog's head peeked over his right. *God's Revelation is, in fact, a scam...* After reading it through, Alfred began to pray—an aberrant demon who held no religious faith, even if he had once briefly affiliated himself under the Church of Order. Purr stared at Karen in utter disbelief and asked, "So, Karen, I want to know... er, no, I want to hear it straight from your mouth: what on earth do you plan to do next?" If this notebook ever leaked, Karen would face a unified execution by the orthodox churches without question. If the fall of the Church of Light had stemmed from a tacit understanding among the circles of churches—since the almighty Church of Light of the previous era had exerted too suffocating a pressure on everyone—then the thoughts Karen revealed in this notebook were an outright challenge to the very foundation of the churches. He was questioning God! And God was not to be questioned. Sitting atop the pool table, Karen gazed out at the distant lawn and said with total composure, "I will continue along the path of the Church of Order." That was unalterable, because he had already stepped onto this road. "And then?" Purr asked. "And then, as I walk it, I will test and prove it." The golden retriever sat down, looking at Karen with a glimmer of deep contemplation in his eyes. Purr leapt onto the pool table and walked right up to Karen. "Perhaps I ought to urge you right now not to think so much, and not to tread such an unorthodox path, because it will bring you far too much danger and the unknown." "Perhaps?" Karen asked. "Yet I don't want to do that." Purr flicked her tail. "Because I witnessed Diss's agony through all those years with my own eyes. More than once, he said he had chosen the wrong path, but by then had no chance to turn back. "So I think this is good. "You've already proven that your talent isn't far behind Diss's at all. In my eyes, you're almost an exact copy of him when he was young. "Therefore, I don't want the future you to repeat Diss's cycle of torment. I don't want to see you resolute in your youth, lost in middle age, and despondent in your declining years. "This must also be what Diss meant—what Diss expected of you." Purr quietly crouched down beside Karen's feet, resting her chin against his calf. "If you think it's wrong, go correct it. If you think it's right, stand firm in it. I understand you, and I'm willing to support you..." Speaking to this point, Purr couldn't help glancing at Alfred, recalling what he had said yesterday. This radio goblin had spoken the truth. He had always believed in Karen unswervingly, so he truly resonated with Karen the most. "In our lives, we always start simply for the sake of starting. Only halfway down the road do we wonder what purpose drove us, which is really just inventing an excuse to feed our inertia to keep moving forward. "Only when we draw near the end of the road do we look back with sorrow, wondering if taking another path back then would have been better. "So, why leave that grief and melancholy for the very end? By then, it has no meaning anymore. "Just like back then, after I advanced to Rank Nine of the family faith system, I felt deep regret. I regretted not choosing the path of a church faith system, because only upon reaching the end did I realize our Progenitor could no longer accommodate all my ideas." A trace of a smile touched Karen's lips. He reached down and stroked Purr's head, and Purr closed her eyes, quietly savoring the affection. At that moment, the golden retriever stood up, padded over to the cabinet, and picked up the Ace of Spades that had been set aside during their meeting that day. He trotted back before Karen, wagging his tail in eager anticipation. "Playing frisbee?" Karen asked. The golden retriever nodded. Karen took the Ace of Spades from the dog's mouth and threw it toward the other side of the room. The retriever spun around, took a few quick strides after the card, bounded into the air, and caught it securely between his teeth. Upon landing, he proudly presented the face of the Ace of Spades to Karen. "Heh." Karen chuckled, then asked, "You're an evil god—don't you have anything you want to say?" The dog froze, then shook his head. Purr explained, "When a true god declines and is defeated by an even stronger one, they get redefined, and that true god becomes an evil god. But there are also those who never founded a church yet once wielded power comparable to a god, or who once brought about terrible crises and catastrophes; they, too, are labeled evil gods. "This dumb dog probably belongs to the latter category." The retriever nodded. "Oh, so that's how it is." "What did you want to ask him?" "Just asking casually. I'm only testing the path of the Church of Order. I haven't even walked it properly yet, so I'm hardly qualified to comment on other paths." "Then have you figured out how you're going to walk it?" Purr asked curiously. "Yesterday, your eyes were very clear." "By treading it with my own two feet, and observing it with my own two eyes." "Doesn't saying that amount to saying nothing at all?" "Woof!" The golden retriever barked at Purr. Purr glared at the dog instantly, hissing, "You dumb dog, you dare look down on me?!" Among all systems, the family faith system sat permanently at the very bottom of the food chain. Followers of other systems looked at practitioners of family faith systems like a bunch of useless slackers mooching off their ancestors. "In concrete terms..." In Karen's mind surfaced the scene from when he first entered God's Revelation—the grey threads entwining everyone around him. Of course, at that time, that vision might have existed solely to validate that line from the revelation: *Order is: what I decree, and what you must obey.* Still, while you could argue the conclusion was flawed, you couldn't say the method of demonstration was wrong. "Once the matter of the Queen staying at Allen Manor is settled, I intend to move out of the manor." Purr shifted her neck, but said nothing. "I want to buy a small apartment in York City and settle in. Didn't Uncle and Auntie prepare an apartment mortgage contract for me anyway? It will come in handy. "Of course, it's not that I find living in Allen Manor uncomfortable. In fact, staying here is far too comfortable. But the more comfortable it is, the further away I drift from the path I want to see and walk." Karen pointed toward *Light of Order* sitting on the bookshelf. "If I keep living here, the only way I can progress step by step is by reading that book. I don't want that. I want to test my ideas against reality, and then use my ideas to echo reality. "At this stage, "I feel an area where ordinary people live is better suited for me to observe and contemplate, and will offer me a greater sense of immersion. "God is above man yet stems from man. Thus, to prove the existence of God, one must first search for God's traces and God's rules among the multitude of men. "That is the method I came up with: "To come from the masses, and go back to the masses." Karen looked down at Purr. "Naturally, that doesn't mean I will never visit Allen Manor again. Just as you said, the Allen family is very useful. They can help us solve many problems and provide plenty of convenience. But what I hope they provide is support for our cultivation, rather than insulating me from life. "In the future, we can come back to stay in this manor once a month, or whenever we want to take a break." "I don't mind at all," Purr said. "I want you to shelter the Allen family, but that doesn't mean you have to reside inside Allen Manor. Honestly, this place called home... when you've been away for a long time, you ache for it, but once you're back, it's really just so-so. "Besides, "You know what? I was actually curious before—curious why Diss stood by and watched Mason, Mary, and Winnie scramble to arrange an apartment mortgage contract for you. Diss certainly knew the Allen family's financial power. Even if they're in decline now, their secular wealth is unquestionable. "Thinking about it now, could Diss have foreseen long ago that you would choose to move out after staying at Allen Manor?" "Diss merely coalesced three godhead fragments. "He wasn't God." Purr rolled her eyes at Karen. "Only you, his grandson, would dare say something like that." Alfred chuckled. "In that case, will I be able to eat food cooked personally by the Young Master again in the future?" "Woof! Woof! Woof!" Purr glared at the retriever again and snapped, "The squirrel mandarin fish is mine, you dumb dog!" After scolding the dog, Purr thought of something else and asked, "Should we take Boge along?" Alfred suggested, "He can serve as our liaison with Allen Manor going forward." The most terrifying part of the workplace was that a senior who had always treated you well and was willing to groom and mentor you could kick you straight out of the inner circle with a single casual remark. "Mm." Karen nodded. "I think that arrangement works." "Then... what about Eunice?" Purr asked. "She said that if I want to leave the manor, she's willing to come with me," Karen said. Clearly, Eunice didn't need Alfred suggesting any role as a liaison, nor would Alfred dare make such a suggestion. Karen clapped his hands and said, "It's still a bit early to discuss all this. We need to handle the Queen's matter first. Alfred, how are preparations for your Rendering Formation coming along?" "I believe there will be no issues. In addition, I have a new suggestion." "Oh?" "In Mr. Hoffen's notes, there is a short passage specifically analyzing the Church of Order's 'Awakening' technique. He noted that offering the fresh blood of kin can ease the burden of 'Awakening.'" "A blood sacrifice, is it?" Karen nodded. "Make the preparations. That won't be difficult. In any case, we must ensure the highest rate of success in waking Count Rekar, and on top of that, it's best if I don't pass out cold again." "Very well, Young Master, I understand," Alfred said. "When it's time to notify Old Anderson at the end, let me do it as previously planned," Purr said. "After that, I'll run up and down with the dumb dog to check whether there are any other issues or oversights in the ancestral castle's array." Right then, a knock sounded at the bedroom door. Alfred walked over and opened it. "Mr. Bede." "Mm." Bede held an easel in hand and looked toward Karen sitting inside. "Young Master Karen, I've come with a return gift." "Please, come in." Mr. Bede entered. Seeing Karen sitting by the pool table, he noted, "The draft is rather strong over there, Young Master." "Mm." Karen stood up and moved over to sit on the sofa. Mr. Bede set up his easel and prepared his pigments, but didn't rush to begin painting. Instead, he took a seat on the smaller sofa opposite Karen. Purr rode atop the golden retriever, trotting past him and exiting the bedroom. "Quite the lively pets," Bede remarked. "Indeed," Karen agreed politely. Alfred brought over two glasses of ice water, set them on the coffee table, and then walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "Truth be told, having a cat—no, having a black cat—in the house really takes some getting used to," Bede said with a chuckle, picking up his glass. In truth, Purr looked virtually identical to the cat in the portrait; but in the eyes of normal people, one black cat looked no different from another. Moreover, over the past century, Purr's temperament had changed dramatically. Most importantly, although the Allen family followed a family faith system, the idea of an ancestor who had left home over a century ago returning was still utterly absurd. As long as one didn't think in that direction, no suspicion would arise. Conversely, Boge, who had only recently joined the Allen family, was far more prone to letting his thoughts wander along those lines. "You'll get used to it in time," Karen replied offhandedly. "Did you wish to paint, Young Master?" "I'm not good at painting." "You may describe it, Young Master, and I will paint it." "That would be wonderful. Thank you for your trouble." "You're too kind, Young Master. I must thank you for the pigment you gifted me yesterday; it is truly exquisite." "Can we begin now?" Karen asked. "Of course." Bede set down his glass, adopting an attentive listening posture. Karen did not describe the scene directly to Mr. Bede. Instead, he asked, "Mr. Bede, have you ever been lied to?" "Lied to?" Mr. Bede smiled. "What kind of deception do you mean, Young Master?" Karen stopped beating around the bush. Raising a finger, he pointed toward the ceiling. "God." Mr. Bede pressed his lips together, though not much surprise showed on his face. Karen watched him. After a long pause, Mr. Bede turned his gaze back to meet Karen's eyes. "I believe I can roughly guess that feeling." "You have a sense of it?" Karen asked with a smile. "Mm." "In truth, I don't really want to describe a scene that's overly concrete. What I want to convey in the painting is that feeling, rather than a mere reproduction of a specific form and setting. To me, that holds no meaning." "Does it need to express suffering?" Mr. Bede asked. "No," Karen said. "Strip away your pain." *Strip away your pain...* Mr. Bede's body gave a slight shudder. He asked, "Can it truly be stripped away?" "If you carry guard and suspicion from the very beginning, then the suffering won't be so great; in fact, it can hardly be called suffering at all. It's like walking down the street and asking a stranger for two riels to ride the tram. If the gentleman refuses, why should I feel anguish over it?" "Yet in the eyes of most people, they aren't asking a stranger for two riels—they're asking their own father." "I imagine that's not my problem, but the problem of most people." "I understand." Mr. Bede lifted his brush and began to paint. His strokes were as swift as ever. To a degree, watching him paint offered none of the aesthetic process of 'artistic creation'; it was almost mechanical and dull. Karen sat there for a while, then stood up to stretch. "It will be finished shortly, Young Master Karen," Bede said. "All right." Karen asked, "So Mr. Bede held doubts from the very beginning as well, didn't you?" "Why ask that, Young Master?" "Because I thought I would have to explain a great deal, but in the end, I didn't say much at all. The only sentence that mattered was that single line." *Strip away your pain.* "It's like the door to a studio. If you wish to go inside and paint, you must first ask the manager for the key. Without the key, you will never get to sit before an easel. "And the prerequisite for receiving the key is first approving of the manager's artistic style." "Then did you never doubt the manager's aesthetic, Mr. Bede?" "I did." "And now?" "I still do." "Then how did you obtain the key?" "When taking the key, I was the me taking the key; once inside to paint, I am the me who paints." Hearing these words, Karen looked at the man before him—his 'prospective father-in-law.' No wonder Diss had been willing to meet him, and had been willing to cooperate with him. Anyone who could make Diss feel it was worth taking the time to sit across a desk and talk with him was no ordinary figure. Even High Priest Lord Rasma had never attained that chance. Of course, no one could guarantee whether Bede, when he first arrived in Rojia City, had also been influenced by Diss. In his mind, Karen once more recalled Piaget and Linda, and then Piaget living alone in that house, yearning for Linda. *A part of my heart believes in God, yet another part is reserved for doubt... No, it is preserving a certain sense of self.* "Mr. Bede." "Yes?" "Have you ever visited a psychiatrist?" "Me? A psychiatrist? Never." "Do you think you need to see one? I feel you might have schizophrenia." "Those obsessed with art all seem to have a touch of it." "True enough." "Yesterday..." "Mm?" Karen smiled. "Feel free to ask whatever you wish." "Yesterday, I saw that the Young Master seemed in great pain. Were you asking the manager for the key?" "The manager took the initiative to hand me the key, but I refused it." "Refused... it?" "Because I discovered that the door I wanted to enter was never locked in the first place." Mr. Bede's brush froze. His gaze shifted from the easel to Karen. After a long while, he smiled. "Someone I respected deeply once spoke in the very same tone as you, Young Master." "I imagine that person worthy of your respect must be very familiar to me." "Heh, indeed." "Aren't you going to continue painting?" "It's finished, Young Master." Mr. Bede turned the easel toward Karen. The canvas was split down the middle from left to right. Though there was no distinct dividing line, the styles displayed on either side were completely different—antithetical, even. On the left, lush green grass flourished, a stream flowed gently, and numerous small animals frolicked. On the right, a world of ice and snow lay frozen, littered with ghastly skeletons. In the center sat a young man somewhat resembling Karen's likeness, though rendered without intricate detail. The young man sat squarely on the dividing line. The left half of his face bore a gentle gaze and a warm smile; the right half carried a sinister look, twisted in a ferocious sneer. Above the young man, right at the canvas's dead center, an angel hovered. Yet the angel's left half had a body of rotting flesh, black bones clearly visible—a fallen angel. The angel's right half displayed immaculate white feathers, sacred and bright. The entire painting drove this contrast to its absolute peak. Most notably, the symbolic angel above held an opposition of styles that was the exact inverse of the landscape below. "Young Master, what do you think?" "Flawless."