Alfred's figure descended slowly, his leather soles making a crisp click as they met the floor.
"I believe that at some point in the future—perhaps five years from now, ten years, a hundred years... or in an era even more distant, beyond the reckoning of mortal years—whenever you recall this night, your bodies will tremble uncontrollably, and your souls will thrill beyond measure.
"Please remember:
"You are the very first visitors."
Alfred made a welcoming gesture.
Muri and Ventura walked down side by side.
Ventura looked at Alfred and asked, "Mr. Alfred, where on earth is this?"
"I believe I have already answered that question," Alfred said with a smile. "Naturally, I do not expect you to comprehend, at first glance or from a single sentence of introduction, the sheer magnitude of the great miracle you now stand before."
Pausing briefly, Alfred added, "Heh, you must know that back then, I myself was struck dumb with shock for an entire night."
Muri and Ventura walked to the center of the array and stopped.
With a flick of Alfred's fingertips, the array began to operate. In an instant, rings of Order fire slowly rose around them, and the massive chandelier overhead descended gently, casting a dark aura that created a profound atmosphere of mystery and solemnity.
None of this belonged to the true essence of the array.
In truth, aside from Karen himself, no one could genuinely activate this twelve-coffin array.
What Alfred was manipulating had been laid out by his own hand, and the surrounding decorations and furnishings had all been arranged by the staff of Allen Manor at his direction.
His purpose was precisely for days like today: to provide ample atmosphere whenever he needed to preach the great teachings to newly initiated followers.
A fine atmosphere markedly improved the efficiency of learning.
Muri and Ventura looked around, thoroughly awed by the scene.
Much like how Richard understood arrays but knew nothing of summoners, both of them were warriors whose understanding of magic circles was rather superficial. Even Karen had spent a great deal of time and effort just to reach an entry-level grasp of them.
As such, the "religious visual presentation" Alfred had meticulously designed struck a deep chord within them.
Internally, however, Alfred made a quiet mental note: the next time he gave a "lecture" to someone well-versed in arrays, he would need to switch to a different set of "mood lighting."
"The mythological accounts in the *Light of Order* state clearly that beneath the God of Order were twelve Order Knights. Awakened by the God of Order, they were bound to Him in absolute loyalty, accompanying Him through the divine wars of an entire era.
"Every single one of their names is recorded in the annals of the Church of Order, and many of these esteemed knights made indelible contributions to the founding of our Church.
"The Twelve Order Knights are not merely a title—they are twelve monuments!
"And right here,
"there happen to be twelve coffins. What I can tell you now is that two of them already have occupants, while ten remain empty. At present, the lady resting in the deepest recess of Congers Tomb is very likely to move in here in the future, claiming one of the berths."
Ventura asked, "Is Captain... paying homage to the God of Order?"
Alfred bent down slightly, looking at Ventura. "Ventura, I know you revere Captain deeply, do you not?"
"Yes, of course!"
"Then please amplify, expand, and elevate that reverence in your heart. Do not let yourself be constrained by conventional thinking, nor bound by mundane taboos—for even the wildest imagination cannot match a fraction of the reality."
"I..."
Alfred pointed toward Muri. "Look, our Vice-Captain Muri is far more engrossed than you."
Ventura turned to look at Muri beside him, who was staring blankly at the surrounding scene.
Both Muri's "blade" and "shield" had once undergone Karen's Order transformation; that scene remained branded in his mind, indelible.
"Do not rush. I shall introduce them to you one by one." Alfred walked up to the first coffin. "This is the first coffin, though its occupant was not the first to lie within. His name is Saman, a believer of the Church of Pamires, who possessed exquisite techniques in spatial forging."
Ventura said, "The Church of Pamires?"
"Indeed—the Church of Pamires that was caught in the middle during the war between Order and Samsara. Disheartened to see his church reduced to a pawn in the clash between orthodox faiths, Mr. Saman chose to end his life through martyrdom.
"Yet the Great Being granted him a second chance to return. At this moment, Mr. Saman lies here in slumber, awaiting the Great Being's summons when the time is right."
Alfred moved toward the second coffin and introduced, "Lying within this coffin is Count Rekar Allen. He was a renowned patriarch in the history of the Allen family, and tales of his pirating exploits still circulate across the high seas to this day.
"Count Rekar was the first 'knight' awakened by the Great Being. Both he and his family have pledged their loyalty to the Great Being."
Muri asked, "Must all twelve coffins be filled?"
"The Great Being is a perfectionist with an aesthetic standard unattainable by common mortals. I believe he will not lower his criteria merely to fill all twelve coffins, but his pursuit of perfection will never cease."
Ventura scratched his head and said, "I still... don't quite understand."
He felt anxious, sensing from Alfred's explanation that this was bound to be grand and mysterious, yet he somehow still failed to grasp it.
"Do not be anxious. I will continue the introduction. Believe me, by the time you step out through the doors of this performance hall tonight, your legs will be trembling."
Alfred clapped his hands.
Purr stood perched on a protruding ledge midway up the front wall, calling down to Alfred below, "Radio Goblin, I regret following you down here out of curiosity."
With a gentle flick of Alfred's palm, the angle of the candlelight shifted. The shadow cast by Purr upon the wall grew vastly larger and more imposing, no longer resembling a cat, but rather a lion crouching in silence.
"Now, allow me to formally reintroduce this cat to you:
"The greatest genius in the history of the Allen family;
"Leader of the expedition squad that roamed the high seas over a century ago;
"Spirit born of blazing fire;
"The 'finger'-picked successor to the God of Light;
"Evil God Knight;
"Bedmate to the Great Being;
"The breathtakingly beautiful Miss Phoer Allen!"
Purr asked, "What on earth is that last title?"
Alfred responded, "I am merely stating facts, without the slightest exaggeration or distortion. Very well, you may make your curtsy."
Purr pouted her lips, but still bent her knees in a curtsy.
Muri immediately bowed in return.
Seeing this, Ventura hastily mimicked the motion.
"I know you must have many doubts in your minds, but do not fret. Allow me to introduce the next one."
The moment Alfred finished speaking, Purr padded to the other side and brushed open a hanging scroll beneath her with a paw. The scroll unrolled, revealing the painting of a large golden retriever.
Purr remarked in a low, teasing voice, "The stupid dog must be full of regret for not coming, though hanging up a memorial portrait doesn't look half bad either."
Alfred pointed toward the painting, turning back to Muri and Ventura. "You recognize him, do you not?"
Muri nodded. "I've seen him."
Ventura answered, "It's the golden retriever at Captain's house."
"Yes, and yet no. Listen well. He is:
"Bearer of a divine throne;
"Servant to the God of Order;
"The 'white glove' for a succession of chief gods, including the God of Samsara;
"Slayer of the Sea God;
"Mastermind behind the collapse of the Sea God Church;
"The most steadfast admirer of Goddess Mils;
"Loyal guardian of the Great Being's bedroom door;
"The evil god judged by the Church of Order—Raniedal."
"An evil god?" Muri froze in place. "You mean... the golden retriever at home, he... he is... an evil god?"
Ventura gasped in horror, "I even fed him!"
"Inside the Gate of Samsara, you met his avatar—Lord Dal."
Muri and Ventura stood petrified.
The cat and dog in Captain's home possessed such terrifying backgrounds?
In other words, what kind of horrifying background must Captain have to keep such a cat and dog as pets?
Alfred clapped his hands again. Purr let out a soft huff, but still helped nudge open the next scroll. These paintings had all been prepared in advance by Alfred.
Upon this scroll was an elderly man.
"In Congers Tomb, Madame Gandiro... oh, that is the lady's name. Madame Gandiro once declared in front of everyone that the Young Master's family background was the most illustrious among them all. Now, let me introduce the Young Master's family background to you:
"The most brilliant genius in the Church of Order over the past century;
"The instigator of the curse upon the God of Order;
"Bearer of three godhead fragments;
"Bomber of the Temple of Order;
"Grandfather to the Great Being;
"The eternal Rojia City Inquisitor of Order... Diss Inmeles."
"The bombing of the Temple?" Muri clearly knew of this incident. "He was the one who did it? Captain's grandfather?"
Alfred said with a smile, "I believe no one would be foolish enough to falsely claim such an honor, for it would truly cost a life—and a most gruesome death at that."
Ventura listened until his head spun. His knowledge and perception had long since fallen behind the present situation. He could only ask Muri, "So... Captain's grandfather is..."
Muri answered, "Captain's grandfather was a Temple Elder."
"Whoa," Ventura exclaimed. "Captain's grandfather is just as incredible as Captain."
A bitter smile touched Muri's lips as he recalled Karen's earlier self-deprecating remarks about his family. Muri remembered telling Karen that large families like his own could rarely escape such troubles, speaking in a tone that implied, *You wouldn't understand.*
Thinking back now, Karen must have been laughing inside.
The direct grandson of a Temple Elder!
"Next..."
"Wait, wait, Mr. Alfred, please wait!"
Ventura raised his hand as if he had noticed something. He ran closer to Diss's portrait, murmuring in confusion, "Why does this grandfather look so familiar to me?"
As he spoke, Ventura held a hand in front of his eyes, blocking part of his field of vision while slowly stepping backward, trying his best to cover parts of Diss's face while exposing the rest.
"Why is he so familiar? So familiar..."
Alfred did not leave Ventura in doubt and suspicion, providing the answer directly:
"Old Master Diss once treated an infected couple from the Church of Order here in York City. Old Master Diss once lamented that he could only alleviate that couple's suffering and prolong their lives for a time, yet had no way to resolve the pollution lingering in their child; he could only hope that the child would grow up strong on his own."
Perched above, Purr blinked. Diss had never said any such thing. In fact, given Diss's personality, he would never speak of such matters. This was clearly Alfred adding his own theatrical flair.
Still, Purr could understand reasonable artistic embellishment, and she certainly was not going to undermine him at a moment like this.
With a heavy *thud*, Ventura dropped to his knees, arms crossed over his chest, and began to worship Diss's portrait.
From his earliest memories, a portrait of Diss had hung in his family's living room. In that painting, Diss had worn a mask, but Ventura's grandparents had retained a vivid memory of Diss's presence, insisting on meticulous detail when commissioning the painter. That was why Ventura had just...
Of course, this painting had been made by Alfred, who had specifically adjusted certain details that afternoon to ensure that Diss's likeness here matched the portrait in Ventura's home.
When Ventura had initially failed to recognize him, Alfred had even contemplated raising the brightness of the lights, given that the illumination was somewhat dim to set the mood.
Fortunately, Ventura was an observant youth.
Ventura raised his head, tears streaming down his face—an emotion born from the lessons his grandparents had imparted to him his entire life.
"Mr. Alfred, Captain knew all along, didn't he?"
Alfred answered, "Yes. That is why Captain treats you so well."
Ventura wept even harder, frantically wiping his tears with his sleeve. "It should be me protecting Captain! It shouldn't be like this... it shouldn't be like this."
To have a benefactor continue looking after him filled Ventura's heart to the brim with sheer gratitude.
"You have already done very well. Being invited here by me tonight is the most direct recognition of your loyalty."
Alfred pointed to himself and said, "Next, allow me to introduce myself. I am the Young Master's most devoted follower. The Young Master once bestowed a surname upon me, and my full name is now:
"Alfred Sao."
Alfred felt this was enough; there was no need to add anything more.
Muri asked, "So... Captain's lineage, the figures at Captain's side, Captain's..."
Having weathered the initial shock of the revelations, Muri drifted from seemingly calm stupor toward clinical symptoms of a stroke.
These pieces of news had simply battered them without warning—like having one's head pinned in place while the body ran off to who knows where, only for the head to start searching for the body and the body to search frantically for the head once consciousness returned.
Alfred said, "The path the Young Master is walking is the Path of Order. The last one to walk this path was the God of Order."
Hearing this, Muri and Ventura both began to tremble. To them, as believers in Order, these words were the greatest taboo.
Alfred raised both arms, crying out in an electrifying, rousing voice:
"This is your opportunity! An opportunity so rare that even measured against the span of an entire era, it hardly ever appears.
"Therefore,
"please keep striving, be ever more pious, and continue to dedicate all your loyalty to the Great Being.
"I believe
"that countless ages from now, on the murals worshipped by posterity, there will be a place for you as well.
"So—
"struggle onward!
"Fight for a more prominent spot on the murals!"
...
Muri and Ventura walked out of the performance hall, heading toward the castle step by step.
Alfred stood on the steps of the hall. Purr padded out from beside him, remarking with a chuckle, "Doesn't seem like they had that intense of a reaction. Especially that last bit of melodrama from you—you lost control of your feelings a bit, making it come off rather flamboyant."
"I admit I became somewhat emotionally invested, but I simply couldn't help myself. Still, I don't believe I did poorly. I can prove it to you."
"How will you prove it?"
"Ten, nine, eight..."
"What are you doing?" Purr asked, puzzled.
"Three, two, one!"
*Thud! Thud!*
Muri and Ventura collapsed to the ground together, their legs having turned to jelly.
...
Inside the Patriarch's study, Karen stood by the window, gazing out at the scenery beneath the night sky. Tonight's moonlight was hazy, surrounded by a thick halo.
He had never worried about the outcome of Alfred taking the others to visit the performance hall. In that regard, he only ever needed to apply the brakes to Alfred, never having to fret over Alfred's intrinsic drive.
After standing for a while, Karen sat back at the desk, opened a drawer, and took out a notebook. It was not the notebook from his study at the funeral parlor, but one he had used here previously.
In all respects, Old Anderson had always painstakingly preserved every trace Karen had left behind in this study.
Picking up a fountain pen, Karen wrote upon the blank page:
*"When Alfred asked for my opinion, I hesitated, for I once warned him that large-scale evangelism is forbidden for now, as it might attract the attention of certain factions.*
*"I do not wish to become like Mr. Philias. At least, until I possess sufficient strength to protect myself, I would rather remain nestled in the shadows of Order, continuing to grope my way forward.*
*"Yet in the end, I agreed to the candidates on Alfred's list.*
*"Although I acknowledge that with every additional person who knows my identity, another degree of risk is incurred, I can trust these two, and I am willing to bear this small risk.*
*"This does not actually align with my usual style of conduct. I always prefer caution, caution, and yet more caution, for I know that whether it is the path walked by my body or the path walked by my soul, I possess neither the leeway nor the capital to make a single mistake.*
*"So, why did I agree?*
*"I stood there pondering for a long time—not pondering the answer to this question, but pondering whether I should write this answer down.*
*"Because the answer feels somewhat unreal, somewhat pretentious. Writing it down requires a bit of courage, and might even invite mockery.*
*"Although no outsider should ever read these words, I dread that if the future me ever flips back to this page, he will laugh at his past self—the me of right now."*
Karen picked up the glass, took a sip of iced water, and sat in silence for a long time. In the end, he still wrote down a single word:
*"Loneliness."*
Chapter 423