They Are My People!

For the past few days, Karen had been waiting for a summons from Theisen, but the old man showed no intention of seeing him alone. Ever since being berated by him that day, the two had not met again. There was bound to be an intention to protect him in this, and naturally, disappointment as well. Picking up a rare, long cigar from the Casil family's private collection, Karen stroked it slowly from top to bottom, using a bit of extra force to pinch loose any hard knots. Mm, it was a rather soothing process. He picked up the cigar cutter, and with a crisp snip, cut a V-notch. Next, he took a torch lighter to the foot of the cigar, blew on it gently, and once he confirmed the center was glowing red, handed it to Alfred. Then, Karen leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands over his stomach, and closed his eyes. Alfred began to puff on the cigar, maintaining a steady pace and consistency with each plume of smoke. As an excellent manservant, when the young master needed it, he could function as an exemplary incense burner. Time trickled by. Finally, The sky outside abruptly turned dark. Alfred laid the cigar across the edge of the ashtray. Karen opened his eyes, stood up, and walked to the window. Before him stretched a sky that was pitch-black yet looked ethereal. Two completely distinct atmospheric qualities intertwined in perfect harmony, giving the impression of a delicate wash brushed over a dominant black canvas. Perhaps this was what holiness felt like. "Young Master, the High Priest has arrived." "Mm, he's here." Squadrons of black-armored knights approached from the distance, each emanating an intimidating aura. With every stride of their undead steeds, scorched hoofprints were left burned into the earth. The Casil family pirates who had been guarding the villa began to withdraw. At first, it was fairly orderly, but as the knights drew near and emotionless gazes beneath their visors swept over them, the pirates' organized retreat degenerated into a rout. They were clearly not enemies, and battle had clearly not broken out, yet their flight could not have been more disgraceful. Watching the pathetic spectacle of his family's "elites," Millis chuckled. He was not angry in the least—only relieved. The Dran and Watson families had still shown no response, and the agreed deadline had already passed. A sore loser of an old relic, a spineless woman, and a young child—their families would march straight into extinction all because of their stupidity. People were strange creatures sometimes. He was already in miserable straits, having watched his own offspring die in heaps before his eyes over the past few days, yet right now, Millis could actually taste a strange savor of happiness. One direct bloodline was dead, but the family's underlying strength remained; at worst, a branch family would take the reins. Perhaps, by virtue of this sacrifice and submissive posture, Order might even continue to use the Casil family to govern Fire Island. In short, knowing there were others worse off brought immense comfort. Nearly a thousand knights cordoned off the perimeter of the villa, followed by a procession of priests in robes of Order marching inside. Above the villa, three gigantic eyes appeared, scanning below to eliminate any possibility of concealment. Amid the dark clouds overhead, a colossal silhouette seemed to swim, though because it never fully revealed itself, it was impossible to tell whether it was some ferocious beast or... a divine beast. Giragon, who had been crouching there all this time, lifted its heads and looked toward the dark clouds, a flicker of terror in its eyes—as if facing a natural predator, and one it stood no chance against. "Stupid dog, guess what that is?" Purr sat on Kevin's back. The cat and dog were not inside the villa, but on a hillside along the perimeter. "Woof." "Yeah, a Frost Dragon. I can feel an innate aura of suppression. This High Priest really travels with massive pomp." "Woof, woof." "You're saying this is just standard protocol for him? Hmm, that makes sense. When Rasma went to see Diss, it seems he only snuck over in secret." "Woof." "Right. That is the Church of Order for you." ... Mobiten waited by the courtyard gate. A black carriage rolled up, and he stepped forward to open the door. High Priest Norton stepped down from within. Upon seeing the High Priest, Millis produced a prepared vial, pulled the stopper, drank it in one gulp, and walked toward the cellar. He sat down on the steps at the entrance, rested the back of his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. Karen had originally intended to lead his squad members to pay their respects to the High Priest, but Vic had come out to instruct everyone to remain in the villa rather than go out to welcome him, because he feared it might be taken as representing him. Karen could only comply with the instruction. Still, he did not believe the old man was merely throwing a tantrum at the High Priest. This was likely a calculated political posture; sometimes, laying contradictions bare before resolving them was far more effective than continuing to engage in passive-aggressive snipes. High Priest Norton ascended the stairs, with Mobiten walking ahead of him. The moment the High Priest stepped onto the floor, Karen and every member of his team dropped to one knee, declaring in unison: "Praise the God of Order! Greetings, High Priest!" Mobiten made the introduction: "High Priest, this is that observation delegation squad." Mobiten offered no further elaboration at this moment. "Foden," High Priest Norton said with a smile, "they are your people." "Yes, they're my people," Foden's voice replied. The Whip-Wielder had come as well? Because everyone was kneeling with heads bowed, they could not look up to face these truly eminent figures. Even so, the Whip-Wielder beside the High Priest could hardly be an impostor. Karen raised his right hand, clenched it into a fist, and placed it over his chest. Seeing this, the other squad members followed suit, chanting together once more: "Greetings, Whip-Wielder! Wielding the whip... for Order!" Foden smiled. "High Priest, I made a point of reading the reports on my way here. They made immense contributions to averting the catastrophe on Fire Island." "Mm, a fine group of young people. Treasures of your Whip of Order. You'd better keep them well tucked away, lest other departments poach them." "That won't do. Don't worry, Your Eminence, I have already made arrangements." "Mm." Mere pleasantries—virtually second nature to figures of high station. Had Karen and the others not been kneeling here in salute, this exchange likely would not have taken place at all. No, Karen knew that if Mobiten—Muri's grandfather—had not spoken up to introduce them, these luminaries would probably have walked right past. Whether that introduction was made was actually crucial. In that sense, Mobiten had indeed lent a hand. Naturally, that was easy to understand: no matter how furious he was with Muri, he could not simply ignore an opportunity to elevate his own kin. The old codger might be rigid, stubborn, and stern, but he wasn't senile. Such was the advantage of having someone close to the top leadership. Sometimes, even merely exchanging a word or a brief handshake with the paramount leader in a formal setting could alter the fate of an individual, a group, or even an entire industry. The High Priest of the Church of Order possessed precisely that power in every word and deed. Still, that was where it ended. The door opened, and the High Priest stepped inside with Foden. Over twenty other figures of extraordinary stature remained in the corridor. These were individuals who, if they wished to publish an article, could easily take up several full spreads of the Order Weekly. Yet right now, all of them could only stand waiting obediently outside, solemn and austere. Karen hesitated for a moment. Should they remain kneeling on one knee? There was no telling how long the High Priest would speak with Lord Theisen, and kneeling was hardly comfortable. Karen slowly stood up. Seeing their captain stand, the rest followed suit. While they were still effectively standing guard, it was undeniably far more comfortable. ... Theisen sat in his wheelchair with Vic standing beside him. When Norton entered, Theisen immediately crossed his hands and lowered his head, speaking sincerely: "Praise the God of Order. Greetings, High Priest." Vic promptly brought a chair over. Norton sat down. When Vic went to fetch a second chair, Foden shook his head slightly, indicating that he did not need one. Vic quietly stepped back behind Theisen. He put away his customary cynicism—not out of pretense, but because the moment this High Priest sat down, his breath tightened, and his soul felt as though it were being seized by an invisible force. He was certain that his former teacher possessed nowhere near the overwhelming majesty of the man before him! Norton spoke: "You ought to take a rest, Elder." Theisen chuckled. "Soon. Soon I will have all the rest I need." "Do you have any instructions, Elder?" Theisen raised his hand and said, "Could we speak a bit more plainly? When you wheel me downstairs later, I will cooperate with you to play this scene out properly." Hearing this, Norton nodded. "Very well." "There is one thing I have always wondered about: in the vote at that expanded roundtable conference, why did I lose so miserably? Give it to me straight." Norton said, "Before that meeting, Elder, did you feel that many people and factions were standing on your side?" "Yes, indeed. I originally believed that the expanded roundtable conference would successfully pass restrictions on your authority. But to my surprise, it ended in a crushing defeat for my side. I could never make sense of it." "That was because some of the factions waving banners and cheering for you were deliberately directed there by me." "Directed there by you? You had long since controlled them?" Norton shook his head. "I had no interest in controlling them. They had demands of their own, but I deliberately suppressed them, effectively driving them into your camp." "And then?" "I understand your aspirations, Elder. You and those behind you belong neither to the classical school nor to fundamentalism. You are open-minded. You advocate reforming according to current realities, establishing an Order system better suited to the present era, and restoring the balance of the Light of Order over the church circles. In truth, I agree with many of your views and policies, and I will adopt your suggestions in the future. But for now, I cannot do so—at least, not openly. I desire greater power. I have my own blueprint and plans, and I will not allow myself to be fettered. Those factions I shoved into your camp seemed to bolster your momentum when they joined, but in reality, they acted far more brazenly, frantically, and extremely than you ever did. Gradually, they alienated the centrists. That is why you lost the expanded roundtable conference." "Is it really that simple?" "Yes, it is that simple. Of course, the primary reason remains that in their hearts, the faithful have grown weary of a system that sacrifices on all fronts merely for the sake of Order's balance. My strategy catered to the church's current desire for change. Perhaps you were being rational, but people have grown tired of this so-called 'rationality.' Your relationship with the previous High Priest was far too close, and the High Priest before that was your teacher. People felt sick of it. And when people desire change, whatever your stance might be, they will instinctively feel aversion and rejection. They didn't want to hear your explanations and arguments; they simply didn't want to see you and your circle continue to hold sway over the church. It was not that I won the expanded roundtable conference, but that you and those beside you could no longer speak for the hearts of the majority of our church's believers." "Is the voice of the majority... necessarily correct?" Theisen asked. Norton shook his head. "Leave that to time. Between us, there is no right or wrong, only different paths. Just as our great God of Order slaughtered deities en masse at the end of the last era, if every stone obstructing the long-term operation of Order is not cleared away, then Order functions merely on the compromise of a fragile balance." "You will lead the church into the abyss of war." "I am no Last Pope of Light. In my heart, I am eternally loyal to the God of Order. That is a fact not even the Temple of Order can deny. No one in this world can doubt my piety toward Order." Theisen closed his eyes. He was tired. High Priest Norton also leaned back slightly. "In truth, I rather wished you and your cohort could live longer, so you might witness the changes I bring to the church. I wished to see resonance in the eyes of my opponents." "I hope you succeed as well, High Priest." Theisen opened his eyes once more, deep exhaustion showing in them. "Regrettably, I will not be here to witness it." "I mourn that deeply." "I do not wish to see our church fracture from within." "I know." "I will cooperate with you, but there are still things I must say. This is not about the ideological clash between our paths, but practical matters where I believe improvements are warranted." "I came here precisely to listen to your criticisms and counsel. Please, speak freely." "Take this Fire Island, for instance. It is one thing for the Light remnants to dare cause trouble; making noise is the only way they have left to assert their presence. Yet Light has lain dormant for a thousand years. A thousand years is enough to wash a heap of gravel over and over. This time, I witnessed a rift within the Light remnants. When true Light replaces the Light remnants and becomes mainstream, our church must reexamine its stance toward them." High Priest Norton took on a grave expression and asked, "What do you propose we do?" "Either Order acknowledges Light once more—though that is virtually impossible, as the entire church circle would never permit Light's return." "Indeed." Norton nodded. During the downfall of Light and throughout the thousand years since, all orthodox churches had contributed to suppressing the Light remnants. It was precisely because they knew how formidable Light had once been that they could never allow it to reignite. Theisen said, "Or, begin supporting them from the shadows." High Priest Norton was somewhat surprised. "I thought you would advise intensifying the crackdowns." "Continuing to strike them will only cause the false Light to dissipate faster, hastening the rise of the true Light. Why should we help our enemies become purer and stronger? Any faction of Light willing to accept our funding cannot possibly be genuine. We cannot allow them to be supplanted and extinguished; otherwise, we will face an even more formidable foe. Cough, cough... This world already has Order. Light is rather superfluous." "Yes, I understand. I will follow your advice and have a plan drawn up and implemented upon my return." "Furthermore, concerning Fire Island once more—the pirate families, the Abyss, they all dared to act so brazenly. Your earlier moves were effectively an indulgence granted to the church circles. I hope..." "I will make amends and set things right. I have merely been waiting for a more opportune moment." "Heh..." "What are you laughing at?" "Nothing. As long as you know. You must make the church circles continue to respect Order." "I will." "And the Mipos Archipelago? I have already submitted my report." "I read it. A sanctions plan is being formulated." Theisen felt weary upon hearing this. The High Priest's attitude was far better than he had anticipated, but profound differences remained between them, differences that could never be reconciled. What could not be achieved in his lifetime certainly could not be achieved after his death. "One final matter. Once spoken, I will accompany you downstairs to face everyone and bring all of this to a complete close." "Please, go on." "I am not speaking on behalf of the internal family factions or the conservative forces you speak of. Everything that exists has a reason for its being. They may indeed hinder the speed of our church's vessel, but they are also its ballast. Radical reforms can easily disrupt our church's original ecosystem and pace. If you take a man accustomed to walking slowly for years and suddenly make him sprint, problems will inevitably arise—especially among the youth. They are the future of Order. Vic, call in the members of the observation delegation outside." Vic immediately looked at the High Priest, who gave a nod. Only then did Vic open the door and gesture to Karen and the others to enter. Karen was somewhat puzzled, but he led his subordinates into the room in single file, lining them up against the wall. After Karen and his team entered, Vic lingered by the doorway rather than closing the door immediately, which meant those outside could see and hear what took place within. Theisen extended a hand. "I'm thirsty." Vic stood by the door, and the High Priest remained seated. With a smile, Whip-Wielder Foden stepped over, brought a teacup from the side, and placed it into Theisen's hands. Splash! Theisen dashed the tea straight into Foden's face. The Whip-Wielder had ten thousand ways to evade the oncoming splash of tea, yet he chose not to dodge. Instead, he allowed the tea to splash across his face, wet tea leaves clinging to his hair and cheeks. The dignified Whip-Wielder now looked thoroughly disheveled. Theisen scolded, "What a fine group of youngsters they could have been, yet at such a tender age they've been turned into opportunists who care for nothing but placing bets and gambling! I pity these children! If the youth of our church continue to be taught like this, where is the hope for our church's future? Every member of this observation delegation ought to be stripped of office, interrogated, and banished! Make a negative example of them to cleanse this toxic culture!" Foden was not angry; his smile remained. He wiped away the tea leaves from his face with his hand. Vic jogged over to offer a towel, but Foden gently pushed it aside. The Whip-Wielder looked at Theisen—looked at this dying old man—and, pointing at Karen and the others standing there, said word by word: "They happen to be my people."