Why Does an Inquisitor Judge?

Although the mask was in the form of a ring worn on the ring finger of his left hand, Karen still raised his hand, pretending he held a mask, and "put it on" facing the mirror. Then, pretending he was wearing a mask, he reached up and took it off. From beginning to end, his face in the mirror did not change at all. Not even his gaze shifted. Yet Karen felt an unusual sensation deep within his heart. It was as if a nonexistent door had just been opened and then closed by him. Nothing seemed different, yet by his ears, he seemed to hear the long, drawn-out creak of a door hinge dragging against its frame. Stepping back silently a few paces, Karen sat on the bed behind the dressing mirror, which was covered in pink sheets. Leaning slightly forward, he kept his eyes fixed on the mirror before him, lost in thought. At that moment, a black chain slowly spread out from beneath Karen's feet, creeping across the bedroom walls and wrapping around everything as if sealing off the outside world. Yet it also seemed to be sitting quietly and listening, waiting for the conclusion of Karen's contemplations. The bedroom instantly fell silent. ... "Brother, come quickly." Serena dragged her brother by the arm as they came upstairs. Just as she was about to step into her bedroom, Lemar pulled her back. "What is it, Brother?" "Shh!" Lemar pressed a finger to his lips, signaling his sister to be quiet. "He is having an epiphany. Do not disturb him." "An epiphany?" Serena poked her head in, looking at Karen sitting motionless on her bed facing the dressing mirror, and sighed with feeling. "A man in deep thought really does have more charm, doesn't he?" Lemar looked around. In truth, he could sense a ripple of Order's aura undulating throughout the bedroom, which meant the person inside was experiencing an insight. What he had not expected was that Karen could enter this state immediately after receiving the mask, right in someone else's home. With a soft click, Lemar's left eye seemed to flip. His original eye rolled downward, replaced by a blue orb. He saw the chains of Order covering the walls of the bedroom. This was not a spell, for it lacked the aura of one. Had it been a spell, he wouldn't have needed the Eye of Sixen to see it. So how had these chains formed? It looked almost like a projection... a soul projection? "Serena." "What is it, Brother?" "I don't think he's a God's Servant." "But the spell he used back then was an introductory defensive spell for a God's Servant. He just used a few too many of them at once." "Just a few too many..." Lemar did not bother trying to sort through the logic with his sister. He knew she didn't need it. Some people could think with perfect clarity and still make the wrong choice in the end, while others had no logic in their heads at all yet always managed to choose right. "Brother, how long will this state of contemplation last?" "Under normal circumstances, the longer the better. It is rare—exceptionally rare." "Oh, then you have to help watch over him, Brother. Don't let him be disturbed." "..." Lemar fell silent. "Did we close the shop doors? We don't want any customers walking in later." "They're closed." "Oh, that's good." Serena patted her chest gently. "Have you ever entered this state, Brother?" "Of course." "But yours definitely didn't last as long as his." "Uh..." Lemar muttered. Serena added, "Even if yours lasted a bit longer, the quality definitely wasn't as good as his." Lemar couldn't help but roll his eyes. He had heard people say that when a girl looked for a boyfriend, she subconsciously measured him against her brother. He had long prepared himself mentally for that and felt he could accept it. But what did his sister mean by riddling him with holes like a sieve right off the bat? ... Karen's contemplation continued. In the mirror before him, Mr. Pavaro's figure appeared, even though Karen had not channeled any spirituality into the ring. In the mirror, Mr. Pavaro stood outside his two daughters' bedroom, listening to their weeping with a pained expression. Immediately after, another scene emerged in the mirror: Mr. Pavaro shoved away the bag of blood spirit powder that had been delivered to his doorstep. Next, the mirror showed Mr. Pavaro shouting in handcuffs when he was arrested: "Praise Order!" Finally, the image froze on the moment they had first entered the underground sausage factory and seen the pigsty. Mr. Pavaro had brushed aside Karen's supportive arm, struggling with great difficulty to stand on his own, his expression solemn and dignified as he recited the *Code of Order*. Loyalty to Order—a true Inquisitor should be like Mr. Pavaro. And now, Karen held Mr. Pavaro's mask in his hands. Therefore, when he put on this mask, he could directly borrow Mr. Pavaro's identity to become an Inquisitor. Not a fake Inquisitor, but a real one? He was currently a God's Shepherd. This rank did not seem to match an Inquisitor, even though he had long known how to use Awakening, an ability exclusive to Inquisitors. Yet if they could be paired together seamlessly, that would surely be best, and it would better suit this image and this mask. At that moment, the phantom of an Inquisitor's uniform surfaced to the left of Karen's body. The garment was black, exuding a solemn, archaic aura. Lemar's gaze narrowed. "He's about to advance to Inquisitor!" Completely ignoring the fact that she had just called Karen a God's Servant, Serena gasped, "Phew... so impressive." Lemar pursed his lips. So had he been waiting all this time, waiting for the identity to be in place before simply matching his cultivation realm to it? Many people spent a lifetime of painstaking effort without gaining an inch of progress in their realm, yet here he was, treating it like shopping at a department store—buying a nice hat, and then casually buying a full suit of clothes just to match the hat? Suddenly, Lemar didn't feel as much heartache over the precious materials he had expended to make the mask. He disliked currying favor with the powerful, not out of noble detachment, but because he knew that in the eyes of the strong, flattery looked cheap. Therefore, making this kind of investment in Karen and placing him in his debt carried immense value. His sister truly had good taste. A pity he was already engaged. ... To Karen now, the mask was no longer merely a disguise for his appearance. At this moment, he could use this opportunity to take Mr. Pavaro's place and become an Inquisitor—not in official rank, but in spiritual realm. Perhaps in some unseen way, this was the true gift Mr. Pavaro had given him, even if Pavaro himself hadn't known it. Yet just as Lemar had said when examining the skin of Mr. Pavaro's face, he could sense that the owner had offered it with complete peace in his heart. Karen had once asked Purr why his path of advancement felt so difficult when there were still so many powerful beings in the world. Purr had rolled her eyes at him first. "You think your advancement is difficult?" After that mocking remark, Purr had understood Karen's thoughts and answered, "Because you chose the hardest path yourself." If faith were compared to a snow mountain, then all believers were eating snow from the mountain. There was snow at the foot of the mountain and snow along the mountain paths. Though it was dirtier, it was easy to obtain. Yet some insisted on wanting the snow from the very summit, willing to climb the mountain and even break through the layer of ice above. Most people simply ate whatever was available. Those who were slightly more discerning might step off the path to gather some, because there truly was no difference. For thousands of years, across multiple eras, everyone had eaten it that way, not just the Church of Order. Yet Karen had a grandfather who explicitly told him that eating it that way was wrong. Karen let out a sigh. He was in no hurry to put on the clothes. Instead, he stared once more into the mirror before him. Inside the mirror, Mr. Bede's figure appeared. Karen and Mr. Bede had sat on the sofa in the patriarch's bedroom at Allen Manor. Mr. Bede had been painting, and he had told Karen that he used a part of himself to fetch the key, while the rest of himself followed the part holding the key into the studio to retrieve the painting tools. That was how Mr. Bede could look forward to his family's destruction so he could use the opportunity to create a deeply moving painting, while simultaneously traveling to Rojia City to discuss cooperation with Diss. It seemed the choice of his prospective father-in-law was even more suited to this mask. When he wore the mask, he would be an Inquisitor of the Church of Order, believing in Order and possessing the conduct and image an Inquisitor should have. When he removed the mask, he would simply be Karen. Splitting himself apart, letting each part of himself do its corresponding task. As his thoughts reached this point, another phantom of an Inquisitor's uniform appeared to the right of Karen's body. It was also black, but it looked lighter, without such a heavy, archaic aura. "Brother, why are there two of them?" Lemar blinked, finding it hard to believe. "He's... choosing." "Oh, so the church's faith system is that great? You get to choose for yourself when advancing? "I think the one on the right looks better. Wearing it would make him look younger." "Uh..." Lemar wanted very much to explain to his sister that it didn't work that way, but after a moment's hesitation, he decided that since she only cared about which outfit looked nicer, there was no need to explain. At that moment, the uniform on the left began to drift away slowly, growing more transparent than before, while the newly appeared uniform on the right gently floated to Karen's front. "Hehe, Brother, see that? Brother Karen's taste is the same as mine." Yet immediately afterward, the uniform that had floated before him was moved aside—no, pushed away. He didn't want this one either? Lemar took a deep breath. That gesture seemed to signify one thing: he still had other choices. "Brother, I regret it now. If I'd known, I wouldn't have listened to you and awakened the Yekailin family bloodline. Believing in a church is so much better—so free! You can pick and choose like this, just like shopping for clothes. God is like an enthusiastic salesclerk... mmm-mmm..." Lemar clamped a hand over Serena's mouth. "Sister, remember: normally it doesn't matter, but right now, in this place, you must not show disrespect to the gods." Serena immediately nodded, and Lemar released his hand. "Besides, do you feel close to your ancestor Yekailin?" "Not close at all. She feels very distant, in fact." "And that's with a bloodline inheritance. The distance between the gods of the churches and their believers is even vaster, even... cold." "Then what is Brother Karen doing...?" "I don't know either." Lemar shook his head, looking at his sister. Thank goodness he was only engaged. ... Karen recalled a conversation between the young Diss and Purr decades ago, after Diss returned from the Temple of Order: "The Temple Elder asked me a question. He asked, 'What is Order to us believers?'" "Oh, and how did you answer, Diss? Light? The sun? Air? The truth behind the workings of all things? The faith you yearn to realize through a lifetime of struggle?" "My answer was: it is merely a mask. Those outside the mask cannot see the real you, while you can use the name of the mask to do whatever you wish." ... Order... a mask. The real self, the false self. The unmasked self, the masked self. The self within Order, the self outside Order. So there really was a dividing line. Where, exactly, did that line fall? Karen raised his left hand, his index finger tracing aimlessly before him as if attempting to draw that line. He was trying to comprehend his grandfather's description of the relationship between Order and the mask. Gradually, with the movement of his fingertip, a tiny cut broke open on his skin. Wisps of fresh blood continuously seeped from the tip of his finger, drifting where his hand traced. Slowly, yet another Inquisitor's uniform appeared before Karen. Unlike the previous two, this one was stained with blood, like deliberately inlaid red patterns. It did not look messy; instead, it felt exquisite and harmonious. When this illusory garment appeared, an aura entirely distinct from the previous ones emanated from it. "Brother, why do I feel like this aura is a tiny bit familiar?" Lemar gritted his teeth. Both his left and right eyes revealed shock as he said word by word, "Because this is... the aura of a family faith system." Just like theirs, just like the Voss family and the Yekailin family—it belonged to a family faith system! Lemar truly wanted to shout out loud: How can a priest of the Church of Order manifest an Inquisitor's uniform of a family faith system? What on earth is going on! Since when did the Church of Order become his family's? Just how many secrets are hidden in this young man? What kind of monster has my sister set her sights on? Ah, suddenly he didn't feel any heartache over those materials anymore. Lemar even felt a twinge of regret, wishing he had embedded a few more diamonds into that ring to show his sincerity. After all, while diamonds looked pretty, they weren't worth much. Sitting by the bed, a smile touched the corner of Karen's lips. He felt a sense of warmth, as if his grandfather were standing right in front of him, watching over him. Grandfather was the person who had treated him best since he first opened his eyes in this life. Subconsciously, Karen reached out to touch what was before him. It was an instinctive choice, born of his unconditional trust in Diss. Yet halfway through the gesture, a rough sketch suddenly surfaced in the mirror. In the drawing, an old man held a sword while a man and a woman lay on the ground, bleeding. Then came the memory of that sunset, when Diss had returned home and told him he was tired and wanted to sleep for a while. The outstretched hand abruptly stopped. Karen realized with absolute clarity: the path Diss had chosen in his youth was wrong. Diss had said so himself! That meant the explanation of Order and the mask Diss had given Purr upon returning from the Temple of Order all those years ago was not entirely correct. The words might be right, but the emotional meaning might not be what Karen had imagined! In an instant, all three Inquisitor uniforms floating beside Karen vanished without warning! "Looks like Brother Karen didn't like any of them," Serena said. Lemar slowly exhaled. So... lavish? Karen closed his eyes, no longer looking at the mirror. What, then, was the relationship between Order and the mask? The purpose of an Inquisitor was to pass judgment, but how were the standards of judgment defined? The *Code of Order*? ... Blue Bridge Community, Allen Apartments, fourth floor, study. "Meow!" Purr, who was lying on the desk drinking coffee, reading a collection of essays, and basking in the sun, suddenly noticed the box on the desk moving on its own. The box opened by itself, and the black notebook inside floated into the air. Its pages turned automatically before emitting a faint golden glow. Purr looked up toward it and saw the line of golden words: "Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth." ... Lemar Pottery Studio, second floor, bedroom. Karen raised his head. Why, when faced with the choices Diss had given him, had he ultimately chosen to leave home and go to Wien? Clearly, he could have remained under Diss's protection in that warm house, continuing to live the comfortable middle-class life of Rojia City. Why had he chosen to leave Allen Manor? Why, when he clearly could have been wealthy, had he taken out a loan to buy an apartment, bought a secondhand car, and gone to work for a salary? Why, after reading Mr. Pavaro's notebook, had he gone so rashly to that pigsty, fully aware of the immense danger there? It was because he wanted to seek, to discover, to test, to... see. Karen murmured to himself: "When I wear the mask, I practice; when I take off the mask, I test." At that moment, a new phantom of an Inquisitor's uniform of the Church of Order appeared over Karen's body. The uniform was black, but it looked utterly ordinary, far dimmer than the previous three. Serena sighed in admiration. "What a well-fitted robe." As a puppet master, Lemar couldn't help nodding in agreement. If the two of them were truly suited for each other, being lovers didn't seem out of the question either. Yes, it fit him. Unlike the cookie-cutter uniforms of typical Inquisitors, it seemed tailored specifically for Karen. Yet it was faint, pale, and paper-thin. At present, it could not be worn at all. Even so, Karen's aura had risen drastically from his previous level as a God's Shepherd. It was no longer at the tier of a God's Shepherd, yet it was not that of an Inquisitor either. "Heh." Karen suddenly chuckled. What was the rush? He could take his time, first grasping the meaning of judgment for an Inquisitor of the Church of Order, and then naturally advancing to Inquisitor when the time was right. Just as Piaget had always been carefree because he had never experienced a day without money. With three paths to becoming an Inquisitor laid out before him, there was no need to hurry. He could stand there, watch a little longer, and think a little more. A person could only truly possess composure when blessed with many choices. The phantom of the Inquisitor's uniform on Karen dissipated, but the color of the chains of Order covering the walls deepened. It could be said that Karen was now an Inquisitor, yet he was not yet an Inquisitor. Karen stood up and turned the dressing mirror around, facing it away from himself like a freshly finished painting turned toward any direction but the artist's. Mr. Bede had once told him that after a true painter completed a work, stepping back and taking a single look was the greatest enjoyment, the true pleasure and spiritual delight. After that, one wouldn't care to keep looking; it would only grow stale. Yes, once he had finished looking into the mirror, that was that. There was no need to linger. Then, Karen channeled a wisp of spiritual power into the ring on the ring finger of his left hand. A flash of purple light washed over him, and he took on the appearance of Mr. Pavaro. Placing his hands over his chest in an attitude of utmost devotion, he spoke: "Praise Order!" The purple light flashed again, and Karen returned to his original appearance. His gaze was crystal clear, so pure it seemed unable to hold a single speck of impurity. Raising his hand to point upward, he said in an even, distinct voice: "God of Order, raised by a whore!"