Your New Master!

Even though the divine artifact [Goddess's Pity] was no longer just a "nightgown" in the simple sense, there was no erasing its original functional nature. Therefore, applying a "transparency" enchantment to it was a direct desecration of the Goddess of the Moon. Desecrating a god and suffering punishment from "the divine" was only natural. Of course, "punishment" here did not necessarily mean the goddess had intervened in person. Pu'er leaned close to Karen, blinked at him, and asked, "So looking at it now, Bernard must have possessed the ability to 'resonate' with the Moon Goddess—which was his Eyes of the Dark Moon?" "Probably." "And now, those eyes belong to you." Just then, the study door pushed open, and Master Kevin, having just finished maintaining and upgrading the house's communication array, dragged his exhausted body back inside. The golden retriever wore two tool bags slung across his back—the left held screwdrivers, wrenches, pliers, and other tools, while the right carried crystal ores, spirit powders, and various materials. Perched on the bridge of his snout was a pair of sunglasses, serving as a protective visor akin to a welder's goggles. "Stupid dog, done with your chores?" Pu'er asked, turning her head. Kevin offered a grin and nodded, giving his canine head a bob to adjust the sunglasses' position with momentum. "We were just talking about the Goddess of the Moon, Artemis. The *Light of Order* records that when the God of Order was wounded in battle, Artemis draped her own nightgown over him to help heal his injuries. Did you know about that?" Kevin froze for a moment. Pu'er wondered, "Oh, you probably wouldn't know. You attained godhood rather late, around the final stage of the last era, infinitely close to its end. The battle where the God of Order was injured with the Goddess of the Moon by his side... hm, that must have been during the early part of the last era, back when the Light faction fought the Eternal faction." Kevin ran his tongue over his lips, raised a paw toward the carpet... Hesitating for a moment, he changed his mind and padded over to the dog mat he kept in the study. Kevin's mats were scattered everywhere—in the master bedroom's adjoining alcove, the study, the storeroom, the courtyard, and Alfred's room—because this dog liked to lie down and contemplate his dog life. The dog's claws dug into the cushion and tore furiously at it until the fabric finally ripped wide open. Kevin stopped, turned around, and smiled at Karen and Pu'er again. He didn't say a single word, yet he had made everything crystal clear. Although they were not from the same generation, and although Raniedal had become a god only in the twilight of the previous era when the God of Order's divine might was at its zenith, he had still once belonged to that circle. Even if he had not witnessed it firsthand, he could follow the gossip much more easily—and much fresher—than later generations ever could. Pu'er sighed, "Ah, reality truly is a whore dressed up however the client pleases." Karen reached over to stroke Pu'er's tail, curling it around his fingers a few times. So Artemis hadn't voluntarily taken off her nightgown to heal the God of Order at all. Rather, the wounded God of Order had simply ripped off Artemis's nightgown to use for himself. How to put it? It certainly matched the God of Order's conduct during the latter part of the previous era. Pu'er laughed again. "So it seems the accounts in the *Whispers of the Moon* mythology were beautified. I bet the earliest versions carried a scathing critique of the God of Order, but after repeated revisions and censorship, it finally evolved into today's vaguely ambiguous, romantic undertone." Karen nodded. "Just like the shifts in the mythic narrative of the *Light of Order* regarding the God of Light awakening the God of Order." "Um, Karen, I remember you mentioning that the next mission you wanted to take on was... security duty for the Church of the Goddess of the Moon's delegation?" "Yes. Preliminary envoys from both sides have already arrived in Yorktown, and the early negotiations have reached a certain stage." "So, could Congers's tomb be connected to the Church of the Goddess of the Moon? Think about it—[Goddess's Pity] is a divine artifact of their church, and they happen to be visiting Yorktown soon for cooperative talks with the Church of Order." "Hard to say." "I'm worried that if they really are pulling strings behind the scenes, it might trigger diplomatic intervention down the line." "No need to worry about that. In matters like this, the Church of Order is thoroughly dependable." The Church of Order was accustomed to being arrogant and overbearing—it was not an act, but a genuine disposition rooted deep in their bones. Karen petted Pu'er's head again. "Besides, looking at the composition of my squad, what do we have to worry about?" "Oh, true." Pu'er smiled. "Then there's nothing to worry about after all." "We'll spend tomorrow preparing. If everything is in order, we'll set off the day after. Go talk to Alfred and have him coordinate the overall prep work with Muri." Pu'er raised her tail, saluted with a plush paw, and chimed, "Yes, my Captain Karen, sir!" ... Throughout the next day, Karen was basically slacking off. Everything that needed delegating had already been delegated; even if he had wanted to get hands-on with something, there was simply nothing for him to do. Perhaps this was what being a leader felt like... So, Karen spent the morning sitting in the courtyard reading the newspaper, read a novel for a bit in the afternoon, and then took a leisurely soak in the bath. He felt a touch uneasy, carrying a twinge of guilt over being so relaxed when a mission was just around the corner; yet he also cherished it. It was like unwinding right before a big exam—the indulgence felt all the sweeter. It was not until the sun dipped and dusk settled in that Karen began checking over the preparations. Alfred and Muri stood before Karen's desk, delivering their reports. First was the dossier. Every member had carefully read and familiarized themselves with the information. Though no one quizzed them like school pupils, nobody was foolish enough to slack off when their immediate safety was on the line. Next, Mr. Lemar had completed the detonation devices. Small wooden boxes equipped with pull-strings, they were activated by pulling the string and throwing them; the delay from pull to detonation was ten seconds, making them resemble wooden hand grenades. With these on hand, any guardian puppets that might be lurking inside Congers's tomb were practically neutralized as a threat. Muri then reported on the trap-disarming unit he had organized, comprising Mars, Ashley, and Memphis. The three had focused on analyzing Malif's works and formulated countermeasures for each type. Once inside the tomb, they would be responsible for disarming any mechanisms. Karen hadn't assigned this, but Muri had framed it as: "Per the captain's instructions..." Well, Karen just let it pass as his own orders. Alfred had procured supplies from the black market. Basic consumables, mainly various potions, had naturally been purchased beforehand and would be distributed per person. Furthermore, among the ten squad members, everyone except Ventura already possessed high-grade purification or blessing items, and several even carried valuable sacred relics suited to the occasion. Karen took out a silver coin and tossed it to Alfred. It was the purification coin given to him by Piro, the pipe-smoking instructor from the training in the Dinge Region. "I'm lending it to the squad, and the squad will lend it to Ventura. Appraise a value for it so we can balance the ledger later." "Yes, Young Master." It was not that Karen wanted Ventura to pay him back; rather, during mission preparation, the boundary between team assets and individual interests had to remain crystal clear so that the profit split after the mission would be transparent and indisputable. Karen listened to a few more reports. By the time everything wrapped up, it was eight in the evening. "All right, let's eat." Karen stood up and led Alfred and Muri into the courtyard. At this hour, there was obviously no time to cook a feast from scratch, but certain meals didn't require much prep—for instance, hot pot. Xili had long prepared the ingredients. By the time Karen emerged, everyone was already seated around the hot pot. The pot was huge, divided into split broths: spicy on one side for those who could handle heat, and mild on the other for the weak. Karen picked up long chopsticks, dipped a slice of fresh tripe into the boiling broth, and said, "Dig in." For most of them, this was their first time eating hot pot. Many learned to use chopsticks on the fly, since forks and knives were ill-suited for swishing food in broth. More importantly, everyone was consciously imitating Karen's habits. "Everyone, what would you like to drink?" Xili walked over and asked. "Ice water." "Ice water." "Ice water for me too." Nearly everyone asked for ice water. "Young Master, what would you like?" "Chilled soy milk." "Right away, Young Master." The hot pot lasted until near midnight. As things wound down, Karen addressed the group: "Once you head back, double-check your gear, and then get some good rest. Tomorrow morning at eight, assemble in front of the Allen Apartments." Karen raised his glass of soy milk and stood up. "A toast—to the complete success of our squad's first mission!" "To success!" "To success!" ... At seven in the morning, Karen technically could have slept for another half hour. The drive from the funeral parlor to the Allen Apartments was short—just a dozen minutes or so—and his bags had been packed long ago; he could leave right after washing up. Yet Karen still woke at seven—not because worries kept him restless, but because the cat of the house had been up since five in the morning, rummaging through drawers and wardrobes for an outfit. Yes, an outfit. Pu'er's allowance was specially approved by Karen, and as long as requests weren't outrageous, Alfred never curbed the cat's spending. Consequently, the cat's wardrobe was bursting with clothes. Of the three large wardrobes in the master bedroom, Karen only used half of one; the remaining two and a half were crammed full of Pu'er's clothes. She rarely wore clothes day-to-day, but that never stopped her from shopping. Sitting on the bed, Karen watched her try on hats one by one in front of the full-length mirror, unable to suppress a smile. Shaking his head, he got up to wash. By the time Karen finished freshening up and came out wearing a clean clerical robe of Order, Pu'er was already geared up. "How does this look?" Pu'er asked. A black hood, a little red cape, a strand of pearls around her neck, and a ribbon tied to her forepaw. So after trying on clothes for all that time, she had ended up picking the exact ensemble from her portrait. "Looks great." Karen picked Pu'er up and set her on his shoulder, patting her head. "In any case, stay safe." "I know." Leaving the bedroom, they found Alfred already prepared, with everything loaded into the vehicle. "Young Master, shall we depart now?" "Yes, let's head out. They're probably already downstairs waiting early." Alfred drove the hearse, while Karen drove his second-hand Ponce sedan. When they arrived below the Allen Apartments, everyone was indeed already waiting. Karen had Philomena and Memphis ride in his car, while the rest took the hearse. The main reason was that keeping these two antisocial members with him would spare the atmosphere in the hearse. The journey began. The two vehicles headed north out of Yorktown. Around two in the afternoon, they pulled over near a highway gas station, which had a fast-food eatery and a convenience store, where everyone grabbed lunch. Without lingering to rest, they set off once more. "I bet that diner's eel was far from fresh," Pu'er remarked. "Which is why ordering the onion and mashed potato rice bowl was the smart choice," Karen said, glancing into the rearview mirror. "When traveling, food like that won't easily upset your stomach." "Still, if we're finally traveling, we should have some style! Even a bad stomach is a memory." "Sounds like you never left without laxatives on your past expeditions." "Humph." In the back seat, Philomena and Mr. Memphis sat quietly. Neither made any effort to strike up a conversation; both preferred the silence. Karen didn't bother trying to liven up the mood for them either—that would be like rolling a boulder uphill. Sangpu City had a long history. It had historically served as an outpost for the Maklai invasion of Wien. Indeed, the Maklai were not the original inhabitants of the Wien region, but later conquerors. Today, Sangpu City was an industrial metropolis. The spear of the Wien Empire—the Imperial Navy—largely set sail from its shipyards. Karen had previously thought Yorktown's air was bad enough, but as they crested a mountain road and began their descent, catching sight of the city's silhouette beneath a thick shroud of smog in the distance, he realized that compared to Sangpu City, Yorktown practically qualified as the world's most livable city. Karen flicked his turn signal. Instead of driving into downtown Sangpu City, he turned off toward the coast, and Alfred quickly followed behind in the hearse. By dusk, Karen's party arrived at a coastal town whose pillar industry was its prison. A sprawling penitentiary capable of housing thousands of inmates brought vibrant economic life to the town, and the ongoing expansion project would undoubtedly add further luster to its future. Dinner was had at a local restaurant, where conditions were far superior to the gas station. Karen even ordered two pan-fried fish specifically for Pu'er. Halfway through the meal, Karen spotted a bearded man at the entrance, stood up at once, and walked out. Seeing Karen, the bearded man immediately broke into a smile, clearly recognizing him. He raised a fist, intending to give Karen a friendly, buddy-buddy punch to create an air of familiarity, but his fist paused mid-air. He worried Karen might not indulge him; after all, though both were Captains in the Whip of Order, their status, standing, and future prospects were worlds apart. Noticing seven or eight men standing not far behind him—evidently the bearded man's subordinates—Karen smiled and took the initiative to tap the bearded man's chest with a punch. "Sensi?" "Yes, that's me! Haha." The bearded Sensi lightly tapped Karen back, beaming with delight. "We've carried out all of Boss Neo's instructions. Rest assured." "Thank you." Just then, Alfred stepped over and handed Karen a gift box. Karen accepted it and presented it to Sensi with both hands. "A small token for our meeting. Please accept it." "Oh, how could I... I-I didn't prepare anything in return," Sensi said, flattered and slightly flustered. "Then you can give me something next time we drink together." Karen patted Sensi on the shoulder and waved with a smile to Sensi's men in the distance. Only after receiving their nods of acknowledgment did he turn and walk back into the restaurant. Inside the gift box was a Yorktown handicraft, but cushioned beneath it were three thousand Order coupons. When asking someone for help, one naturally had to show proper appreciation. Handing over coupons directly as a tip would be tactless, whereas a discreet gesture produced far better results. Since the coupons were being given away regardless, why not package the gift properly so the gesture carried maximum weight? Karen had learned this from Neo. Stingy as Neo could sometimes be, he was never frugal when it came to spending coupons where it mattered; how else would he have gathered so much intelligence? Even within the divine church... it was still a society built on human relationships. They left the vehicles in the parking lot of the town's police station. With no drivable roads further on, the entire squad set out on foot toward the coast. By eight in the evening, they arrived at the seashore. The area was desolate and bleak. "Rest and recover. We set out in four hours!" "Yes, Captain!" "Yes, Captain!" Richard noticed that everyone around him swiftly sat or lay down to rest in an orderly fashion—habits honed from long marches within the Gate of Samsara. "Stop staring and get some rest," Memphis advised. "They've been through more than you, so their coordination is naturally sharper." Richard shrugged. "I'll get there too." Since this was Wien and they had not yet entered the sea toward the tomb, there was no need to post a night watch. Karen closed his eyes and slept for a while. When he woke at eleven-thirty, he reached up and gently rubbed the cheek of Pu'er, who was curled asleep on his chest. "Meow~" Pu'er opened her eyes slowly and asked, "Is it time?" "Yeah." "Summon Aseroth." "All right." Karen rose, placed Pu'er on his shoulder, and walked to the water's edge. Pu'er raised a paw and waved it, summoning a cluster of red starlight. The ritual began. A moment later, ripples stirred across the surface, and Aseroth's massive silhouette slowly surfaced. At the commotion, without Karen needing to call them, every squad member awoke, shouldered their packs, and lined up single file behind him. Aseroth possessed high intelligence. It could immediately tell that the team on the shore this time was fundamentally different in nature from the one gathered when it was summoned before. It spoke with deep emotion: "I grew up listening to the tales of your adventures with my father. So now, Mistress, is your great adventuring squad setting sail once again?" "Yes, Aseroth." "Wonderful! I am so grateful, for now I too will have stories to tell my children. Together with Mistress's expedition squad, I shall carve my own wake across the vast sea!" Pu'er placed a plush paw against Karen's cheek and said: "Aseroth, I command you: starting today, you shall answer his summons. On this sea, you will be the solid ground beneath his feet, and his will shall be your code of conduct. "Now, "you may greet your new master—His Highness Karen."