This was a reading of a divine decree destined to be recorded in the annals of history.
First came an impromptu broadcast of breaking news from the front lines, informing every power in the world watching this war:
Samsara had already been beaten to the ground by Order.
Once the impromptu briefing concluded, the scheduled agenda was followed to the letter, reading aloud—earnestly and meticulously—the divine decree declaring war that had originally been slated for broadcast at noon today.
This was a procedural blunder. Logically speaking, since the Church of Samsara had already surrendered, there was no longer any need to issue the declaration of war, for the conflict had already ended.
With the war already over, reading a declaration of war was utterly unnecessary and entirely redundant.
Yet it was precisely this procedural error that showcased the formidable power of the Church of Order to the world in all its glory.
Although no direct conflict had erupted between orthodox churches in a thousand years since the demise of Light, the barbs upon the Whip of Order had not rusted.
It remained the mightiest church in this world—not one of the mightiest, but the sole mightiest.
To those who thought the Church of Order was failing, those who thought the Church of Order had grown weak, those who thought the God of Order had forsaken the Church of Order...
Open your eyes wide and take a good look at who truly wields the whip in this world of churches.
A millennium seemed to have made many people forget certain truths, leading them to take for granted how the Code of Order—a set of laws capable of binding every church in the world—had come into being in the first place.
In "The Emperor's New Clothes," only an ignorant child mocked the emperor for being naked.
No one would poke fun at such an error at this press conference, nor would anyone find it amusing. As a dignified orthodox church, Samsara had actually failed to withstand Order's onslaught long enough to even reach the formal declaration of war at noon the next day.
Having finished reading the divine decree, High Priest Norton stood tall, his voice flowing from the speakers.
Before concluding the conference, before his voice and projection faded away, he let out a chuckle:
"Heh."
That chuckle was the mockery and disdain directed at the world on behalf of Order.
Even Karen, who had always maintained the detached perspective of a bystander, couldn't help feeling a surge of emotion in his chest upon hearing that laughter.
No one could reject a mighty collective. Anyone would take pride in belonging to such a formidable entity—especially when this collective was writing its own dominance with such distinctive character!
Karen recalled something Diss had once told him:
"Beneath the shine of the Light of Order, all are treated alike. Which means: no matter who you are, none have the right to demand special favor from the Church of Order."
From beginning to end, what Grandfather had rebelled against was the God of Order, but he had never rebelled against the Church of Order.
In that battle at Mink Street Church, Grandfather had merely blown up the Temple of Order, but he hadn't killed a single Order priest. Even Elder Xiti had only been hung from the cross by Grandfather to catch the breeze for a while.
While the Church of Order had all manner of problems, it remained undeniable that in this era, the Church of Order had reined in the powers of the various churches, creating conditions that allowed the world to develop.
After High Priest Norton's figure faded away,
every Order priest in the conference hall placed both hands across their chests, bowed, and shouted fervently:
"Praise Order!"
"Praise Order!"
Standing on the stage, the Holy Child of the Church of Pamires also changed his ceremonial posture, placing both hands across his chest.
Seeing this, the Pamires priests below exchanged glances, shifted their hand gestures, and joined in the chorus:
"Praise Order!"
No matter what, these people had endured far too many twists and turns over these past days. Now that they were determined to cling to this powerful thigh—and had already done so—their hearts genuinely felt much more at ease.
Now, they only hoped that in the actual negotiations, Order would show greater generosity in consideration of the assistance the Church of Pamires had provided.
And in fact, that was exactly what happened.
The ensuing negotiations proceeded with extraordinary smoothness—so smoothly that both sides merely held their respective documents and read through the clauses line by line. Karen even felt that the treaties in their hands were word-for-word identical.
Order had displayed its magnanimity to the Church of Pamires.
The treaty could broadly be divided into three key points.
First: The mythological narratives of the Church of Order and the Church of Pamires would be merged. Following the integration, however, the God Pamires would not be a subordinate of the God of Order, but a friend who followed him.
This treatment was far, far better than the original version of a "branch god." At least in terms of godhead, which corresponded to personhood, the God Pamires stood on equal footing with the God of Order.
Sitting below and listening to the proceedings, Karen once again deeply appreciated the truth behind the saying, "History is a little girl whom anyone can dress up as they please."
The so-called mythological narrative framework was nothing more than a distortion of history.
Two gods who had barely interacted in the previous era might, in the mythological narratives of both churches in the next era, become bosom friends who shared everything.
Yet this did not feel absurd, for under the belief systems of the divine churches, the god each worshiped was supreme to them. Thus, if the relationship between the gods wasn't handled properly, there was no way to navigate the relationship between mortals.
For example, if some evil god suddenly rose to prominence and regained power amid crackdowns from all sides, the church that had once condemned him as an evil god would likely revise its mythological narrative, rewriting the evil god sentenced by their own deity into someone with whom their god had merely had a minor disagreement or shared a little joke.
In short, to get things done, one had to resolve ideological problems first. If those remained unsettled, chaos would linger down the line, and trouble would brew again sooner or later.
Second key point: The Church of Order would respect all autonomy of the Church of Pamires, including diplomacy, economy, and proselytization. Not only that, but the Church of Order would also strengthen cooperation with the Church of Pamires in these areas.
If the first point offered superficial prestige, the second delivered substantial benefits.
Karen knew that the spatial gem coupons he had bought at a low price yesterday would soar immediately following this meeting—perhaps even recovering to their original market value. Flipping them like this ought to net him tens of thousands of Order coupons.
Still, his own moves were just small-scale play; the captain's was the real grand stroke. Starting this morning, Samsara coupons were bound to plummet due to the war, and after the surrender, depending on the surrender negotiations, they would certainly keep dropping for a while.
He wondered just how many point coupons the captain had stored on that second card containing his entire life savings.
Third key point: The Church of Order and the Church of Pamires formed an alliance; regardless of who had war declared upon them or upon whom either declared war, both would march in lockstep.
This was effectively the Church of Order bringing the Church of Pamires under its wing. For a mid-sized church, such treatment was the kind of blessing one would wake up smiling about in their dreams.
Amid enthusiastic applause as both negotiating delegations stood, the talks concluded smoothly.
Karen and his two companions escorted Derius back to his room. After arranging lunch, Karen returned to his own room, where he saw Peige and Fanny packing their clothes as soon as he stepped inside.
"What's going on?" Karen asked. "Are we checking out?"
Fanny smiled. "We're clearing out the room for the next squad."
"What do you mean?" Karen asked, puzzled.
"It means our security mission for these negotiations is complete, but the Lord Holy Child applied to postpone his return. Looks like he needs to attend some more events and sign treaties concerning fine details.
"So we've already handled the juiciest part of the job, and now we just wait for the church to disburse our mission rewards.
"What's left is standard VIP protection. The mission tier drops significantly, the rewards drop drastically, and there'll be plenty of chores. After all, the Holy Child can leave the hotel for visits and sightseeing now. It's too troublesome and exhausting, so the captain declined the follow-up assignment and handed it over to Gengdi's squad."
Having eaten the meat, they tossed the remaining bones for someone else to gnaw on. Karen knew Gengdi's squad had practically become the Hound Squad's second team.
"So we can disband now?" Karen asked.
"Yep, disbanded. But according to tradition, we have a team dinner. We'll meet outside the hotel for a good feast."
By squad tradition, everyone gathered for a meal after every mission.
"I'll go bid farewell to the Lord Holy Child."
"Go on, go on." Fanny waved her hand. "Shall Peige and I take your suitcase and sword box downstairs for you?"
"All right."
"Your sword box is so big. Don't you find it bothersome lugging it everywhere every time?"
"Isn't your rifle just as long?"
"My rifle can be disassembled. Can your sword come apart?"
"It won't be so troublesome in the future."
His earnings this time were substantial; he could consider indulging in the luxury of summoning the Sword of Arius for three thousand Order coupons.
Karen went to Derius's door, knocked, and entered. Derius was sitting there enjoying a somewhat late lunch.
"Lord Holy Child, our security mission has concluded. Another squad will take over your protection from here. I've come to bid you farewell."
"Ah, very well. Thank you all for your hard work during this time," Derius said with a smile toward Karen.
"You are the one who worked hard. May the rest of your days in York City be pleasant and smooth."
"May life treat you well too. Oh, right, do you know of a certain place?"
"Where might you mean?"
"Ivy Cemetery."
"I don't know it. I think you can ask the squad taking over for us to look into it for you. Wherever you wish to go, they will plan and arrange everything in advance."
"All right, thank you."
"You're welcome."
Karen stepped out of the room. The door across the hall was wide open; Fanny and Peige had already taken the luggage downstairs.
Reaching the elevator, the doors opened. Richard was standing inside, swaying his body and busting into a tango toward Karen.
"The mission is over! The very first mission of my life is finished! Pure bliss!"
"Next is the team dinner," Karen said.
"Yeah, they already told me! Fanny said that by tradition, the newcomer treats everyone. I'm planning to take everyone to the hotel restaurant for a lavish feast."
All consumption at the Ankara Hotel cost point coupons.
Karen suspected his silly cousin had been duped by Fanny and the others. He certainly had never heard of any tradition where newcomers paid—wasn't it always the captain who treated?
Then again, whenever the captain treated, it was either simple barbecue or street stalls...
Still, seeing how thrilled and excited Richard was, Karen didn't feel like breaking the truth to him. Perhaps Richard knew full well he was being milked for cash, but was happy to use it to close the distance between himself and the team. After all, he wasn't short on point coupons.
Exiting the elevator, Richard led Karen to the restaurant diagonally in front of the hotel building. Guided by a waiter, they entered a private dining room.
Except for the captain, everyone was already there.
The two adjacent seats furthest inside were empty. Richard nudged Karen to take the inner seat while he sat near the door where dishes would be served, warmly asking everyone:
"Have you ordered all the dishes?"
"Ordered! Don't get mad later, okay?"
"No problem at all! Treating teammates to a meal is only right."
"Where's the captain?" Richard asked.
"The captain went to debrief the mission. He told us to start eating; he'll be here shortly."
Just then, the first dish arrived: a large platter of roast firebird meat.
This firebird... was genuinely a bird that spewed fire from its body—well, when it was alive, that is. Now that it was cooked into a dish, it obviously couldn't spew any flames.
The platter was huge. As Karen helped set it down, some sauce splashed onto the back of his hand and cuff. Karen stood up and said, "I'm going to the restroom."
Leaving the private room, Karen went into the restroom. After washing up, instead of grabbing a paper towel, he shook his hands dry as he walked back toward the private room.
Along the way, he happened upon a group of young people. The two leading them, surrounded by the others, were none other than Leon and Laure.
Karen smiled at them. Leon gave him a nod, while Laure ignored him completely.
Sure enough, the bond between cellmates lasted only until release.
Just like in a bathhouse, when both parties stripped completely naked to face each other honestly, they seemed equal; but once their clothes were back on, the boundaries instantly reasserted themselves.
"What, feeling disappointed?" The captain's voice sounded beside Karen.
"Nothing to be disappointed about. We belong to two different worlds anyway."
"Mm, indeed. Two different worlds to begin with."
Karen and Neo returned to the private room. The table was already laden with dishes, and everyone was enthusiastically tucking in.
When the dinner ended, it was nearly five in the afternoon. The other squad members dispersed one after another. Before leaving, Richard made a special point of walking up to Karen.
"Karen, come over to my place for dinner this Saturday. My grandmother is cooking personally."
That was three days from now.
"All right, I understand."
Generally, if it wasn't specified as lunch or dinner, it was assumed to be dinner.
"No need to bring a gift. Our family doesn't care for that formality—you know how my dad is."
"Yeah, I know."
"Sigh, my mom told me to find a psychiatrist for my dad."
"I know a very good psychiatrist."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The captain had consultations with him before. His review was that he finally believed psychiatrists weren't all quacks."
"Who is he? Where can I find him?"
"Let me arrange it for you. I'll bring him along to pay a visit."
"Great, great! That couldn't be better. Arrange the fee as you see fit; money won't be an issue for our family."
"I understand."
"Thank you, Karen! I've realized that ever since I first met you, I've had non-stop good luck."
"Don't mention it. It's the least I can do."
After all, they were relatives.
"I'll head back first, then?"
"Yeah, goodbye."
The captain was the last to leave. He spotted a secondhand black Ponce sedan parked not far away, inside of which sat Karen's manservant.
"I'm heading to the black market bank to handle some business. Give me your card; I'll cash it out for you while I'm at it."
"Captain, you're cashing out already?"
"Can't get too greedy, or you end up with nothing. You never know how ugly the manners of those higher-ups can be when they feast. Anyway, what I earned this time is enough to last quite a while."
Karen handed the anonymous card issued by the black market bank to Neo. After Neo drove off, Alfred pulled the car over and loaded Karen's luggage and sword box inside.
"Young Master, are we heading home?"
"No, go to Ivy Cemetery. Drive slowly; I'll doze off for a bit more."
"Very well, Young Master."
Alfred turned on the radio and played a country folk song.
...
By the time they arrived at Ivy Cemetery, dusk had already settled.
Old Saman was just about to close the gate when he saw the familiar car arrive and pushed the gate open once more.
Karen got out of the car and stretched. He had slept a bit in the car, and with the sporadic naps throughout today, he had just barely made up for his lack of sleep.
"Mission over?" Old Saman asked.
"Yeah, it's over." Karen looked at Old Saman and smiled. "The Church of Pamires signed a treaty with the Church of Order. There was no annexation. The Church of Pamires is still the Church of Pamires."
"Heh." A smile appeared on Old Saman's face. "So that means my funeral won't be happening?"
"Yeah. What a pity, you no longer have a reason to hold a funeral."
"He..." Old Saman pointed at Alfred. "...came by around noon and told me a few things. The two churches collaborated this time, right?"
"Yes. The unfortunate one was Samsara."
"Not really unfortunate. Some grudges won't fade in a thousand years, or even across an entire era. It's just a matter of what was bound to happen eventually happening. But what makes me curious this time is, why was the Church of Order so generous to the Church of Pamires?"
"Having just beaten Samsara to the ground, they had to choose another target to display their benevolence. They couldn't be like the Church of Light back then, forcing every other church into the opposition."
"Makes sense." Old Saman scratched his head. "The problem is, since there won't be a funeral, my refrigerator..."
"Don't you have a new refrigerator?"
"But I'm sentimental. Using new things just doesn't suit my temperament."
"Wienese don't have the custom of asking back gifts once given."
"That was my funeral expense. If the funeral isn't happening, it definitely has to be refunded."
"Oh, then there's no issue, because I never planned on charging you a funeral fee in the first place, so there's nothing to refund."
Old Saman looked at Karen, laughed in exasperation, and said, "You little rascal."
"All right, let's see what ingredients are left in your fridge. I'll cook you one last meal tonight.
If you want to eat next time, come to the funeral parlor and eat with us."
"All right, I'll go check. Oh, right, I think I forgot to give you the instruction manual for that old refrigerator."
"It's just an old refrigerator. You make it sound like someone wouldn't know how to use it."
Hearing this, Old Saman looked at Karen and nodded meaningfully, while Karen returned the smile.
Just as they were about to head inside to cook, a car pulled up outside, followed by several figures darting into the cemetery.
Alfred immediately stepped in front of Karen and spoke:
"Young Master, four are in the car, four are around the perimeter, and six have already entered."
Karen rested a hand on Alfred's shoulder, signaling him to stand down, for he could already clearly see who had arrived.
The first to step out was Gengdi, followed by the Holy Child of the Church of Pamires, Derius.
Derius walked up to the base of the steps, looked at Old Saman standing above, and greeted him with the etiquette of the Church of Pamires:
"I have always heard stories about Mr. Saman within the church. Today, I finally meet you in person, Mr. Saman.
Please permit me to offer you my reverence. Praise Pamires."
"You..." Old Saman stared in confusion at the person bowing before him.
"I am the contemporary Holy Child of the Church of Pamires, Derius. I have come this time hoping to invite Mr. Saman back to the church to oversee the research and development of our new sacred relic."
Old Saman walked down the steps one by one.
Gengdi stepped forward to intercept him, but Derius smiled and gently pushed him aside.
Old Saman stood before Derius, scrutinizing him from head to toe. Finally, he smiled:
"You are the contemporary Holy Child of my Church of Pamires?"
"Yes," Gengdi interjected. "He is your Lord Holy Child."
"I am," Derius replied.
Old Saman tilted his head and asked, "Then do you know that you look very much like someone?"
Shock immediately surfaced on Derius's face.
A half-smile appeared on Old Saman's face. "Looks like my eyes didn't deceive me. You're that man's son?"
"I..." Derius looked in shock toward Karen standing nearby.
Karen shook his head, indicating he hadn't revealed this secret.
"Hahahahahahaha!"
Old Saman burst into laughter, tears streaming down his face.
"That man's son actually became the Holy Child of my Church of Pamires!"
"Mr. Saman, perhaps there is some misunderstanding..."
Old Saman glared ferociously, spitting squarely into Derius's face.
"Ptui!"
Gengdi immediately lunged forward, but the next instant, a blue barrier manifested in front of Old Saman, sending Captain Gengdi flying backward.
Clutching his head in disbelief,
Old Saman muttered:
"I thought I was dying soon, but the truth is... I should have died long ago."
Chapter 223