Evil God Knight, Charge!

"Have you been waiting long?" "No, Captain." In fact, Karen had walked right past Philomena earlier, but she hadn't recognized "Pavaro's" face. Even though she had visited Pavaro's home—the funeral parlor—not everyone was exceptionally observant. Karen checked the time. It was already late into the night, and the old captain's ship had certainly cleared the harbor by now. Unwilling to go through any more hassle at this hour, he found an inn and took two rooms. The accommodations were decent. Each room featured an individual bath pool, which the innkeeper claimed was fed by hot spring water channeled from the volcano, though running the water cost extra. Karen paid the fee, and an attendant followed him in to help draw the bath. After a while, seeing the pool was nearly full, Karen walked over and dipped a hand in. The water wasn't scalding hot, yet it gave off a distinct burning sensation. But this wasn't the natural effect of a hot spring; the inn had stirred in a type of mineral stone powder. Soaking in such a pool induced a sense of mental excitement, tricking guests into thinking the hot spring was remarkably effective. In reality, it was akin to mild heavy-metal poisoning, stimulating human potential to create a brief high before plunging them into a period of deep exhaustion. Karen shook his head. Too tired to argue with the innkeeper for a refund, he walked into the shower stall, took a quick rinse, and lay down on the bed. *Knock, knock...* He had just settled in when a knock sounded at the door. Karen had no intention of answering, but the knocking persisted. Left with no choice, he walked over and opened the door. Two young women stood outside, neither appearing older than twenty. They wore no makeup, looking quite fresh and pretty. "Sir, would you like a massage?" "Sir, our skills are very good." It seemed this inn offered both hot springs and snacks of another kind. "No, thank you," Karen declined, but he pulled a hundred-denomination Order coupon from his pocket and handed it to them. "Please don't disturb me again." "Thank you, sir." "You are truly generous, sir." In regions where war broke out, Order coupons were invariably the most stable currency. Especially now, when the values of Samsara coupons and Moon Wheel coupons fluctuated wildly. While Moon Wheel coupons fared somewhat better because they were pegged to Order coupons, people still preferred taking Order coupons directly. Just then, the door to the neighboring room opened. Philomena leaned out, turning her head toward them, and caught Karen handing the girls the coupon. Karen nodded to her with a smile and said, "Get some good rest." "Yes." Having sent the girls away, Karen closed the door, lay down on the bed, and soon closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. Next door, Philomena walked out onto the balcony holding a cup of water, directly facing the extinct volcano that stood tallest and deepest within Fire Island. She took a sip, hesitated, and dropped an ice cube into the cup. Taking another sip, she furrowed her brow slightly. Before they had parted ways earlier, the words Pu'er spoke resurfaced in her mind. Was that cat right? If she defeated her grandmother, would she truly have a chance to choose her own life anew? Would that curse... ever end? Philomena raised the cup in her hand and poured the ice water over her own head, drenching her hair and clothes instantly. Right then, a knock came at her room door. Following Karen's example, Philomena retrieved a hundred-denomination Order coupon, walked to the entrance, and opened the door. A muscular young man stood outside, bare-chested with his shirt slung over one shoulder. Resting one hand against the doorframe, he stared at Philomena with her soaking wet hair and unconsciously swallowed hard, asking, "Need a massage, beautiful lady?" *Bang!* Philomena kicked him flying with a single strike, then slammed the door shut. In the end, she hadn't been able to hold back. In the neighboring bed, Karen, who was sound asleep, heard the commotion. He merely rolled over and thought nothing of it. ... Out on the waters beyond the harbor, the small pirate ship lay moored alongside the sea beast. Compared to the crude shelter built on the beast's back, the vessel was naturally far more comfortable. After finishing their meal, everyone found a place to rest. As for the original sailors on board, they naturally had no choice but to sleep in the corners of the deck. None of them voiced any complaints, however, since the strength these newcomers had displayed was more than enough to wipe away any resentment in their hearts. Inside the captain's quarters, Alfred sat at the desk organizing the notes and sketches he had made along the journey, while Pu'er and Kevin had commandeered the bed that originally belonged to the captain. Pu'er was pillowed against Kevin's belly, sleeping soundly. Kevin would gently flick his tail from time to time, brushing away the annoying mosquitoes for Pu'er. Alfred turned to look at the cat and dog on the bed. Gazing upon this heartwarming scene, he picked up his fountain pen and wrote in his booklet: *I will keep an eye on Kevin for the Young Master at all times, for we cannot let down our guard against him. I imagine even Raniedal himself is unwilling to be treated purely as a dog; that would only cost him his dignity further.* *Yet one thing, I believe, is certain: Kevin's care for Pu'er is genuinely like that of an older brother toward a younger sister.* *Even gods possess humanity.* *Raniedal walked the path to godhood step by step for Goddess Mills, ultimately suppressing and slaying the Sea God. Although I have often wondered whether Goddess Mills even knew him—and indeed, whether Goddess Mills's feelings toward the Sea God were truly entirely coerced...* Having written to this point, Alfred used his pen to cross out the latter half of the sentence. He felt that as "family," writing ill of Kevin behind his back was somewhat inappropriate. He treasured his notes deeply, believing the contents of this journal might very well become the mythological framework for their future new religion. There was no need to invent such scandalous gossip for Kevin over a momentary personal speculation, lest believers argue endlessly over Raniedal's question for millennia to come. After all, such a dog—infatuated with a goddess and willing to sacrifice everything for her—was all too relatable for many people. Alfred continued writing: *The Dark Moon Goddess was willing to pray to the Young Master for the sake of vengeance.* *I know the 'god' in the Young Master's mind should be like the relationship between Heaven and Earth and straw dogs.* *This once again proves that the definition of 'god' the Young Master gave long ago was correct.* *If a god is merely a title for someone who has grown strong to a certain degree, then there is truly no necessity to revere him.* Alfred quietly paused his pen. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to write down the following words: *I too feel apprehensive; I too harbor doubts; I may even feel unease. For as the Young Master grows increasingly powerful, things I do not wish to see may emerge in my observations.* *If one day the Young Master deviates from the path he once spoke of, should I step forward to remind him?* Alfred closed his eyes, falling into deep thought. After a long time, he opened his eyes again, and wrote down solemnly upon the page: *That must simply be a misunderstanding on my part.* ... At the foot of the volcano lay a mining site that had once continuously produced fire-attribute magic stones, an industry belonging to the Delan family, one of the three giants of Fire Island. "The Delan fleet is out, the Castle fleet is out, and oh, the Watson fleet too! Those are the three oldest pirate families in the Romaford Alliance, and universally recognized as the strongest three!" Though it was deep into the night, many figures were still hard at work inside the mine. And among them were not just laborers of the Delan family, but also workers from the Castle and Watson families. Three carriages arrived, each followed by a retinue of elite guards. Presently, the three family heads stepped down from the carriages. Two were elderly men—Winbort Delan and Millis Castle—and the third was an attractive, mature woman named Celine Watson. She was the current spokesperson of the Watson family; the true head was her son, who was still young. Surrounded by layers of guards, the three leaders walked into the mine shaft. A closer look at their route revealed they were no longer following the mineral veins, but a new tunnel deliberately excavated from within the shaft. "Even now, I feel our plan is fraught with danger," Celine remarked. "We might release a true demon. Legend has it that even the God of Fire was wounded when sealing him away." "There are many versions of the legends. Why choose to believe the worst one? I prefer to believe the God of Fire buried a treasure here—a divine artifact, most likely. Right, old Winbort?" "Heh, while my family prides itself on possessing the legacy of the Church of Fire, if it were truly a formal and complete inheritance, would my family still need to hole up here and play pirates with you two? "Wouldn't founding a church be much more comfortable? "I know nothing of legends. All I know is that my family's ancestors chose to settle and build their operations here for a purpose. "I won't lie to you. Throughout our history, records frequently show youth from the Delan family gaining insights and achieving breakthroughs in strength after training in this volcano. The Delan family also maintains a tradition of having sixteen-year-old youths stay in the mountain for a month every year. "I think that should prove something." "Doesn't that mean our two families are cooperating with yours only for the unearthed prize to benefit the Delans?" "Exactly! We're taking quite a loss here, aren't we? Hahaha." Old Winbort chuckled and said, "Within the Romaford Alliance, the Delan family has always been the leader. Your two families branched out from mine as well. And at the risk of saying something you might not like to hear, the reason our alliance could gain a firm foothold here and rule these waters as pirate lords all this time is our three families' sincere unity. "Your families place your trust in the Delans, and the Delans will naturally repay you. The sea is vast; it can accommodate the shared growth of all three of us. "This time, as long as we awaken the heirloom, we can rely on its power to expand our influence and territory." At the end of the tunnel, deep inside the volcano, a red curtain hung before them. Old Winbort ordered, "Open it!" His subordinates stepped forward and pulled the curtain aside. Beneath it lay a tightly shut eye. "It's hard to imagine just how enormous it must be. I heard Dark Moon Island was once trampled by the sea beast Dorons. Looking at it now, whoever is buried beneath this volcano... will not be smaller than Dorons." "Is it a man or a beast?" Old Winbort said, "It is bound to be the emissary guarding the divine artifact. The people from Light weren't lying: a sacred relic is indeed buried beneath this volcano." "I'm curious, how did the people from Light know about this place, and even guide our excavation route?" "No need to wonder. As the former foremost orthodox church, even though it has fallen, the Church of Light possesses far more information than pirate families like ours. Compared to them, we are ants next to an elephant." Old Winbort shook his head. "Word has it that an elder of Light managed to reach the God-Burial Grounds and returned decades later, having obtained an inheritance from there. I imagine the God of Fire is buried in the God-Burial Grounds as well." "In that case, it makes sense. The elder of Light we are welcoming in two days—is he the one who visited the God-Burial Grounds?" "Yes, precisely. Only he has the means to awaken this guardian emissary." "However, does this mean we'll be breaking ties with the other orthodox churches?" "Are you mad? Even if we acquire these things, we couldn't possibly challenge the orthodox churches. As ants, we must know our place as ants. "Once the emissary awakens and our alliance claims the divine artifact, I will immediately issue orders to hunt down the Light remnants and present their corpses and blood to the orthodox churches as proof of our loyalty. "Though it might seem a bit unscrupulous, it doesn't matter. Those Light remnants are used to it by now anyway, aren't they?" The three family heads laughed together. Completely unnoticed by any of them, deep within that giant eye, a faint ripple stirred. ... An invisible strand of consciousness rippled outward from the extinct volcano, like a dormant colossus quietly observing the world. This wave, which hardly even qualified as an investigative probe, was faint enough that the vast majority of people remained entirely unaware. Only a select few experienced a subtle, inexplicable sensation. On the bed in the hotel, the sleeping Karen frowned slightly. He instinctively sensed something, but his conscious mind in sleep assumed he was about to have another dream related to the War Scythe, and he instinctively resisted it. After all, following his last dream, his grandfather's phantom had yet to fully recover. With that single push of resistance, it stopped. Karen opened his eyes and sat up in bed, looking somewhat bewildered: "Wait, did I actually succeed in resisting it that easily this time?" ... In the captain's quarters aboard the small pirate ship, Kevin's bald head, serving as Pu'er's pillow, shifted slightly, and his tail, which had been swaying continuously, came to a halt. He was an evil god. No matter how miserable his current state was, he was still a genuine evil god. On the altar island, aside from Karen who possessed the Eye of the Dark Moon, only Kevin had been able to see the red-clothed woman's silhouette and accurately discern her nature. Now, when the ripple emanating from the bottom of the extinct volcano brushed past, he instinctively detected it—and seized hold of it. Meanwhile, Pu'er, sleeping pressed against him, caught the wave as well. Through proximity, her inherently superior soul level, the finger concealed within her tail, and Kevin acting as an "antenna" to channel the sensation, she too latched onto the ripple. ... "Ugh..." Pu'er rubbed her eyes and found herself lying on a sandy beach. *Oh, it's a dream.* Naturally, she wouldn't panic; she was, after all, a worldly cat. Yet when she scrambled to her feet and looked at her cat paws, she suddenly grumbled in annoyance: "Sigh, I've really degenerated. Even in my dreams, I don't turn into a human anymore—I'm still a cat." She remembered that in the early years after becoming a cat, she had often dreamed of being human, only to wake with a lingering sense of loss. After being a cat for so long, however, she had gradually grown used to it. The chances of dreaming herself as human or cat had slowly converged. By now, it felt as though she hadn't appeared in human form in a dream for ages. Because of Karen, Pu'er had felt she ought to rekindle the feeling of being human, yet clearly, she hadn't. "Woof, woof, woof, woof!" "Roaaar! Roaaar!" A chorus of commotion carried over. Pu'er looked up and spotted Kevin's figure ahead. The bald golden retriever was barking furiously at a dog slightly larger than itself, while the other beast roared right back at him. "Oh, heavens, I can even dream about that stupid dog in my sleep. Sigh, stupid dog, see how well I treat you, how much I look out for you." Pu'er padded over. Drawing closer, she realized the creature brawling with Kevin wasn't an ordinary dog. The large black hound possessed three heads, its eyes glowing with crimson light. "Woof!" "Roar!" "Roar!" "Roar!" Naturally, one dog mouth couldn't win an argument against three, and Kevin quickly fell into a disadvantage. The three-headed hound advanced step by step, pressing Kevin hard. Unwilling to show weakness, Kevin refused to yield an inch, continuing his fierce vocal retaliation against them. The distance between the two dogs shrank steadily. The three-headed hound crouched low, preparing to lunge and tear him apart. It was clearly confident in its physical superiority; in a true mauling match, three mouths held an undeniable edge. Kevin seemed to sense someone behind him. Turning his head, he saw Pu'er. Puzzled as to why she would appear "here," he nonetheless instinctively wagged his tail to signal her to leave. At this moment, he couldn't even tell whether this Pu'er was merely a figment of his dream or had truly entered his conscious dreamscape. Either way, he didn't want her to come to harm. Yet Pu'er completely disregarded Kevin's "tail language" telling her to run. After all, though she was the most pampered at home, in her past experiences, she had always been the boss lady! Instead of fleeing, Pu'er accelerated, darting straight behind Kevin. With a leap, she landed right on his back—a perch she had long grown accustomed to. "You think you're so tough bullying people with three mouths? Daring to pick on my family's stupid dog—you'd better ask me first! You want a fight? Bring it on! Who's afraid of you? Even if I spot you a head, I can still beat you into the ground!" With that, Pu'er reached out with her left paw to grab Kevin's head, only to swipe at empty air. She immediately reached down, gripping the fur on the nape of Kevin's neck to anchor herself. Swinging her right paw swiftly, a flaming sword manifested in her grip. "Evil God Knight, charge!"