From his seat below, Karen watched Derius seated in the center of the elevated negotiation table on one side. Images flashed through Karen's mind—Derius clutching the collar of his father, Bishop Bern, demanding how he dared doubt his loyalty to Order; and Derius clinging to the wall, tormented by the Spatial Worm inside him.
For a moment, Karen couldn't tell which was the real him.
Perhaps the upper echelons of the Church of Order couldn't tell either, or they wouldn't have pulled the stunt of deliberately spiking his drink.
Sidi had received false coordinates, but who had provided them in the first place?
Karen slouched back slightly, settling into a more comfortable posture in his chair. Fortunately, he didn't need to ponder it, nor did he have to make any decisions. After all, he wasn't a member of the Seventh Knights, nor was he the one trapped in that space. He could completely cast aside any anxiety and annoyance, simply sitting back to enjoy the clash.
It was far more gripping than a stage play. After all, plays still needed scripts, whereas reality often went completely bare.
Sure enough, after another brief silence, the negotiations resumed.
However, compared to yesterday, today's talks lacked the acrid smell of gunpowder. Both sides actually began haggling clause by clause, vetting each one with utmost seriousness. Gone was yesterday's boisterous clamor, replaced by a massive leap in professionalism.
It was almost hard to imagine what frame of mind had led these professional people to force themselves into spitting, sleeve-rolling brawls yesterday.
Yet this made things torturous for Peige and Fanny. They truly despised this solemn, rigid atmosphere, and before long, both of them began dozing off again.
Karen took out the notebook he had brought and doodled or jotted notes from time to time. He wasn't really keeping minutes, since he would probably never look back at anything written in it, and might even leave the notebook behind in the room after checking out.
Still, doing so felt more immersive and suited the atmosphere.
As the negotiations deepened, time slipped away. Around noon, Peige and Fanny woke up, went to the restroom to eat, and then returned to resume their naps.
By past three in the afternoon, Karen distinctly felt himself growing hungry. It wasn't a pang from his stomach, but rather a fuzziness in his thoughts, making it harder to focus effectively.
The negotiations were simply too captivating; he had been utterly absorbed.
Karen took off his coat and slipped into Fanny's black trench coat. Its style was fairly unisex, so Karen didn't feel awkward wearing it.
He stood and headed for the restroom. A few steps in, his feet felt slightly heavy—the coat was weighed down.
Reaching the restroom doorway, Karen reached into the inner lining and pulled out some beef and orange juice. The beef resembled braised beef, seasoned rather heavily with Wien-style sauce, but a starving man easily overlooked such culinary flaws.
"I didn't bring any food. Who could've guessed it'd turn out like this? I thought the banquet would start by noon—the hall was already prepared!" That was Leon's voice.
"Damn it, these Pamires bastards are truly a pain to deal with. How dare they bite back at us? We should have just killed them all directly." That was Lore's voice.
"Right now it's not a matter of killing them or not. They aren't actually that important, and they know it themselves, but our church's dignity is on the line."
"Elder Sidi and the Seventh—"
"Hush! Are Temple Elders something you and I can gossip about?"
Gnawing on his beef, Karen watched Leon and Lore walk over to wash their faces. Likewise, the two were staring at Karen—or more precisely, at the large chunk of beef in his hand.
Both men licked their lips in unison. After all, the previous night's session had ended so late that they had overslept that morning and missed breakfast entirely, intending to make up for it at the noon banquet. Who knew the banquet would fall through?
"Share some with me! Quick, give me a bite," Leon urged without hesitation, stepping right up to Karen.
"Right, right, share some with me too, give me some," Lore followed closely behind.
"I've already bitten into this," Karen said.
"I don't mind," Leon said.
"I don't mind either." Lore reached out to grab the beef in Karen's hand.
"Well, I mind." Karen took two steps back, dodging them both.
"Whoa, you can't be like that!" Leon protested.
"You ate our bread and milk yesterday, my friend. You can't be so heartless."
"I meant that I have more here."
Karen reached into the trench coat's pocket and brought out a wrapped roast chicken, along with sausages wrapped in plastic film.
"Is there a lot?" Leon asked. "I mean, enough to share?"
"Enough for both of you."
Lore immediately said, "Then we can't eat here. Let's head to that storage room over there."
"Right, over there."
Deeper down the hallway was a storage room neatly stacked with extra tables and chairs for the conference hall. It wasn't very large.
A table stood in the center. Karen laid out the food from the coat onto it, and each taking a chair, the three of them began wolfing it down.
Leon chewed on a chicken leg and said, "When you guys escorted that Holy Child into the hall, I saw how bulky the trench coats on those two women next to you looked. I even mocked you in my head for being terrified of starving, not knowing a banquet was already arranged for noon. Who knew that in the end, I was the fool?"
Lore chimed in at once, "Blame those Church of Pamires bastards. Today was supposed to be a smooth conclusion followed by a celebratory feast at noon. Looking at this pace now, it might drag out until the early morning hours again tonight."
Looking at the pile of food on the table, Leon said, "This is enough for the three of us to have dinner as well."
Karen nodded. "My two companions have another trench coat over there. This is just for the three of us."
"Yeah, so we couldn't eat by the restroom door this time. If those starving folks eyed you with desperation, you'd feel too embarrassed not to share."
At last, all three were stuffed. They leaned back in their chairs, letting out long sighs of relief.
From their earlier conversation during the meal, Karen learned that Lore's grandfather was also a bishop.
That was why the two of them could loiter outside for longer without worrying about being sought out or leaving a bad impression.
Karen wouldn't have much trouble either; as security personnel, no one would suddenly call on him to do anything, but he actually wanted to head back in early to keep observing the negotiations.
Yet seeing these two bona fide assistants to the negotiating delegation slacking off here, him being overly eager as a bodyguard would seem out of place.
Lore rested one hand on his belly while picking his teeth with a chicken bone in the other, letting out a long sigh: "Over the past year, the church has had so much bad news. Sigh."
Karen was familiar with this scene—once full of food and drink, people began discussing grand affairs.
Still, chatting with these two was different from listening to ordinary people brag; they were privy to far more insider information.
Leon concurred, "Everyone knows the tides are shifting. Our church has its internal troubles too. A while ago, a Jurist actually used the corpses of ordinary young girls to gather malice and refine an item spirit. Truly ridiculous."
"Yeah, and it got exposed in public, making us look terrible."
"And exposed by Viclay of all people. Heh."
"You really think he did it? That guy is an idiot, just like his grandfather!" Lore mocked Viclay without restraint.
Leon turned to Karen and asked, "Do you know Viclay?"
"Never heard of him."
"Stay far away from him if you run into him in the future. The guy's touched in the head." Lore tapped his forehead. "His whole family has screws loose, and their greed is utterly crass. That punk used to try to butter us up and hang out with us, but none of us would let him join. Being around him lowers your class."
So that was Viclay's reputation in the circle of young scions—obviously marginalized and ostracized.
Remembering how Viclay had once smirked and deliberately mentioned in front of him that his grandfather was a bishop, Karen also felt the man had a few screws loose.
Moreover, no wonder his grandfather had personally showed up to "support" his meeting in his jurisdiction; it seemed his grandfather had an equally poor reputation among York City's bishops, with no one willing to come lend support, forcing him to bite the bullet and do it himself.
"The gods are about to awaken—news like that is flying everywhere. It seems every church is making moves in response. Heh, to be honest, I'm actually looking forward to it." Lore licked his lips. "I really want to see in my lifetime what it's like when a true god descends."
Leon shot Lore a glance. "Don't you dare say that in front of your grandfather, or watch your ass."
"I'm not stupid. I'm just curious. Even if an era of awakening gods is coming, why do I feel... feel like Grandfather and the others have such a strange attitude toward it? In the last era, our God of Order suppressed countless deities. If everyone's descending, what do we have to worry about?"
Leon nodded. "Mm, I have that doubt too. Grandfather and the higher-ups clearly see these signs differently than we do. Lately, the church has been cutting deals with various factions non-stop. It's a bit overly cautious, as if making preparations well in advance for the awakening of the gods."
Karen listened in silence without interjecting.
"It's mainly that tremor in the Temple of Order. It sent out too many troubling signals to the outside world, sparking thoughts that shouldn't have been sparked and giving people ideas they shouldn't have had," Lore said.
"Heh, there's actually a secret behind that," Leon said smugly to Lore.
"Tell me, tell me!"
"That's all I know. That's just what Grandfather told me—that there's a secret, but he didn't tell me what it was. Grandfather probably doesn't know that much either."
"If even your grandfather doesn't know much, how serious must that be?"
"Who knows," Leon said.
Karen nodded along in agreement.
"All right, it's getting late. Let's head back to the conference hall," Lore said, wrapping up the remaining food on the table and hiding it in a corner of the storage room. Then the three left together and returned to the hall.
Inside the conference hall, negotiations were still underway.
Progress was much faster than Karen had expected, as they were already discussing opening the Messenger Space to the Temple of Order.
Leon's grandfather spoke with gravity: "This is our bottom line. We can grant the Church of Pamires a certain degree of freedom in secular affairs and missionary work, but if the Messenger Space is not opened to our Temple of Order, then this so-called merger is nothing but a joke. Even at the cost of a Temple Elder and the Seventh Knights, Order will not yield on this fundamental matter of principle."
Derius said, "My point is that we agree to open it, but each side should be responsible for guarding and maintaining the teleportation arrays of their respective spaces. We could even agree to swap, each maintaining the other's teleportation array."
"No. The teleportation arrays must be under the control of our Church of Order. On this point, there is no room for negotiation, nor will I permit skipping or shelving it. It must be settled right here and now. Otherwise, every clause negotiated thus far is void. I can declare the talks terminated on the spot, after which the Church of Order will issue a divine decree and declare war on Pamires. I am not threatening you; I am stating a fact. Furthermore, I will not give you much time to deliberate. You must give me a definitive answer before dark."
Derius took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and in the end, nodded after all.
"Very well. That settles this clause. Let us move on to the next."
"Good. Continue."
This continuation dragged on until nine in the evening.
Leon and Lore stood up and stepped outside, deliberately glancing at where Karen sat. Karen also stood and followed them out. The three swiftly finished off all the leftover food from earlier.
"We conceded too much this time. The Church of Pamires still retains part of its core framework instead of being broken up entirely as originally planned. With a merger like this, secular problems will easily crop up, and integration won't achieve the expected results."
Lore nodded. "Still, once the ship has run aground, the only choice left is to go ashore."
Leon looked at Karen and asked, "What do you think?"
In line with his persona, Karen replied, "I'm still more inclined toward going to war directly, because I believe fists are the true guarantee of upholding Order."
"I think so too," Lore said rather helplessly. "Comparing the church's past historical records with the situation now, I truly feel the lords up top have lost their sharp edge. They seem to have forgotten how our church's position was earned in the first place."
Leon said, "They're simply considering more factors than we are. If everything were solved with fists, one day those fists would shatter themselves—just like the Church of Light back then."
"Considering more? With so many internal problems in the church right now, while they're 'considering,' why haven't we seen them actually step up and address any of them? Do you know, Leon? Sometimes I genuinely feel that our church today is like a corpse lying in a coffin, steadily rotting away with the passage of time. What it needs right now is awakening—awakening! Everyone knows that once a corpse is awakened, its spirituality continuously disperses and fades. But if the corpse is completely rotten, even an Awakening Technique won't be able to revive it."
"These matters aren't for us to influence right now. Wait a while. Once you take your old man's seat, you can push things according to your own ideas."
"What about your old man?"
"My grandfather can still climb a rank higher."
"Heh." Lore rolled his eyes at Leon.
Karen chimed in at this point, "I don't think there's any need to worry too much about that. Are the problems in our church absent in the others? In the end, this world is just a contest of who's less rotten."
"A contest of who's less rotten?" Lore mulled over the phrase, turning his head to look at Karen. "The way you put that is quite interesting."
Leon checked his watch and urged, "Come on, let's head back."
The three returned to the conference room. The meeting finally concluded at midnight.
The negotiating delegates from both sides exchanged the finalized preliminary drafts of their treaties. These drafts would soon be presented to the respective upper echelons of each church; only after gauging their stances could tomorrow's session proceed to the next step.
After escorting Derius back to his room, before Karen could even enter his own, the captain's voice sounded through the blue seashell at his ear:
"Elevator. Pick someone up."
Karen pointed to his ear, signaling Fanny and Peige to head inside first, while he walked over to the elevator.
The elevator doors opened, and Bishop Bern stepped out. He handed his identification to Karen once more for inspection. After checking it, Karen led Bishop Bern over, knocked, and entered Derius's room.
Karen originally imagined that the exchange between "father and son" would go something like this:
"Damn it, what on earth are you doing?!"
"Heh, I am merely following your instructions, Father, fighting for the Church of Pamires's interests to the greatest possible extent."
Yet in reality,
Bishop Bern looked at Derius sitting on the sofa and praised:
"You did very well—exceptionally well. Son, you are my pride."
A trace of confusion flickered in Derius's eyes.
Perhaps what he had expected was the exact same scene Karen had imagined.
"Very good, flawless. I am deeply pleased."
Bishop Bern stepped up to his son and reached out, initially intending to pat his head. But having not seen each other for so many years, the father and son had long forgotten how to act around one another.
In the end, Bishop Bern merely patted Derius on the arm.
"Truly, I am very pleased with your performance today. It was simply impeccable!"
Derius visibly showed signs of tension. Karen could tell it was an urgent anxiety—things might have slipped beyond his control.
Bishop Bern walked over to the French window and looked out at the night view, falling silent.
At last, unable to bear it any longer, Derius rose from the sofa, looked at his father's back, and asked:
"Did I infuriate you so much that you're deliberately saying these things just to save face?"
"Shh..."
Bishop Bern made a hushing gesture.
"Be quiet. Listen carefully."
Karen listened intently as well, but heard nothing else. This room completely shut out external sounds and perception.
So what were they supposed to be listening to?
Derius asked on Karen's behalf: "What are we supposed to be listening to?!"
Bishop Bern turned around, a smile on his face. Under the illumination of the room's lights, a reflection formed on the glass window. The Bishop Bern in the glass wore a smile that looked somewhat sinister:
"Listen. The sound of a brick hitting the ground."
Chapter 205