The Reason Behind the Hunt!

The originally cheerful, harmonious atmosphere plummeted to freezing point the moment Alfred uttered those words. "Woof, woof, woof!" Kevin barked agitatedly while spinning in circles at breakneck speed, moving so fast he almost left an afterimage. If those words reached Karen's ears, would he ever have any hope of getting the next layer of his seal broken in this lifetime? Compared to Kevin's loss of control, Alfred appeared remarkably calm. He even picked up a small pair of tongs, dropped a sugar cube into his coffee cup, and slowly stirred it with a teaspoon. People inevitably changed, and the more positive changes were called growth. Back at the very beginning, Alfred possessed absolute confidence that he had fought Diss on equal footing. Then, hearing Diss remark that using a forbidden curse had left him with a slight cough, Alfred had broken into a cold sweat. Later, witnessing Old Master Diss casually condense godhead fragments as if drinking water before sealing an evil god into a dog's body, he had collapsed to the floor in utter terror. If it could be said that when leaving Ruilan for Wien, Karen was merely a handsome, proper young man with work experience at a funeral parlor, then Alfred was no different—nothing more than the "Radio Goblin," as Purr's nickname went. Now, however, he could keep watch over Raniedal with one eye specifically on his young master's behalf. This was a warning—a dressing-down that was stark, blunt, and practically a pretext fabricated solely for the sake of putting him in his place. Alfred knew it, and Kevin knew it just as well. Saying one was chastising a dog sounded rather crude, but chastising an evil god immediately elevated things to another level. Kevin finally stopped spinning. Panting heavily, he stared at Alfred. Alfred bent down, mimicking Philomena's earlier posture, and looked Kevin squarely in the eyes. "Certain jobs have to be done by someone. As you know, I handle such things for the Young Master. Come to think of it, don't I resemble how you were back then?" Kevin shook his canine head in denial. "Oh, true. You weren't part of the Church of Order back then. But how should I put it? The kinds of tasks you carried out for the God of Order are probably the same ones I will have to do." Kevin's ears drooped. Alfred reached out and grasped the leash around Kevin's neck. "I want peace of mind, you want peace of mind, and we all want peace of mind. On future murals, if there's no room beside the Young Master's hands, the worst that can happen is that I stand behind him holding your leash. You see my sincerity, don't you? In the murals I've designed, there has always been a place for you." Kevin's ears pricked up again. Alfred extended his arms, wrapped them around Kevin's neck, and gently patted the dog's back. "You know what the prerequisite is. Train Philomena well. The Young Master needs true powerhouses who can hold their own, and that is something I can't quite provide." "Woof." "Oh, are you saying going to Compasini's burial ground was done for my sake? Well, indeed it was. That was the Young Master's reward for my loyalty. You can dream of having such a day too, can't you? After all, doing errands for the God of Order is entirely different from doing errands for the God of Order before he becomes the God of Order. Think of the moon in your heart, Raniedal. You once pursued the taboo of time. Personally, I believe you actually succeeded. Although you didn't manage to return to the past, you were granted a fresh start." Kevin tilted his head, eyes filled with contemplation, then abruptly shook his head violently. He stared at Alfred in shock, suddenly realizing that the man before him had just performed a "mental intrusion" on him. "All right, I'm going to prepare what's needed for the unsealing ritual. The Young Master mentioned last night that he'd break your seal today." Alfred walked out of the room. Kevin sat down silently on his dog cushion, his paws flicking back and forth against the carpet beneath him, pulling at the loose threads until they were as tangled as his current state of mind. At times, he couldn't quite fathom his own thoughts either. After all, neither humans nor gods could remain lucid forever. He sat there blankly for who knew how long until Purr's silhouette flashed past the doorway, only to back up a moment later. "Stupid dog, let's go have afternoon tea!" The moment Kevin heard Purr's voice, he stood up, gave his body a shake, and bounded over to her, hopping lightly in place as though revving an engine. With seasoned grace, Purr leapt smoothly onto Kevin's back. As far as Kevin was concerned, fooling around with Purr was when he felt most relaxed. He didn't have to think about anything, didn't have to care about anything—just being a stupid dog was more than enough. "Target: the dining room! Charge, meow!" "Woof!" ... "Madam, when did this arrive?" Karen asked, admiring the painting in his hands. "This morning." "All right, I see." The painting depicted a young man and woman riding the same horse across a green lawn. The lush surroundings closely resembled Allen Manor, the distant silhouette of the old castle serving as clear proof. The young couple in the picture, naturally, was none other than Karen and Eunice in earlier days. Back when he had first arrived at Allen Manor, Eunice would accompany him on horseback rides every afternoon. At first, it had been two people on two horses, which gradually progressed to two people sharing one horse. As her father, Mr. Bede must have watched this scene unfold from some vantage point. His mood back then probably wasn't great. Karen asked himself honestly: if he had a daughter in the future and saw her being intimate with some young lad, he certainly wouldn't be thrilled either. Then again, an artist was an artist. For Mr. Bede, an emotional trigger like that was precisely what he needed; after all, he was a man who had once fantasized and looked forward to how he would compose a painting on the night his family was annihilated. By all rights, this should have been a rather nice keepsake, one that expressed the prospective father-in-law's stance and subtly nudged things along. The problem, however, lay in the pronounced lighting contrast between the front and back portions of the piece. As the sun set, the gathering darkness and the lingering twilight formed a soft dividing line. And that dividing line lay right between Karen and Eunice. Eunice's long hair fluttered gently in the twilight, making her look like an angel fallen to the mortal world. Behind her, holding her waist, Karen's figure remained mostly submerged in shadow. While there was no deliberate distortion of his features, a certain "gloomy" aura was vividly conveyed through the shift in light and shadow. Such a composition made one wonder whether the painting's intent was a blessing or something else entirely. In short, it looked rather ominous. Karen set that painting down and picked up the other. This one was Piaget's work. First of all, the brushwork clearly showed that Piaget had made astonishing progress. As for the subject matter, it was somewhat incomprehensible. It depicted a figure whose gender was indistinct, walking through a space of crisscrossing light and shadow—somewhat abstract, bordering on absurd. Well, it appeared Piaget had inherited the true teachings of the Mural Religion; he had certainly mastered the art of playing mysterious. "Madam, was there a letter along with the paintings?" "No, only these two paintings were sent. I don't even know where my husband actually is right now." "They should be safe, please don't worry." In Samsara Valley, the two had swallowed their pride to paint promotional posters for local specialty pastry shops just to survive. Presumably, they could manage to live in other harsh environments as well. "By the way, this painting," Karen held up Mr. Bede's piece, "has Eunice seen it?" "I haven't shown it to her yet," Madam Jenny replied at once. In fact, she had done so deliberately, because through her eyes, the painting implied that her daughter and Karen belonged to two entirely different worlds. As Eunice's father, wasn't her husband actively sabotaging things? "Then let's not show it to her for now, all right?" Karen asked for Madam Jenny's opinion. "All right, I think that's best as well." A smile appeared on Madam Jenny's face. She had actually been quite worried that Karen might cancel the marriage engagement. Her perspective differed from that of the clan; she was looking at it from her daughter's point of view. If Eunice couldn't be with Karen, any man she met in the future would likely leave her with regrets, as comparison was an instinct. Madam Jenny felt that when it came to being a boyfriend or husband, finding someone like Karen among peers was nearly impossible. Not only was he outstanding in every respect, but he was also considerate enough to manage the atmosphere. Alfred walked in at that moment and reported, "Young Master, everything is prepared." "Then I will leave you to your business," Madam Jenny said, rising promptly. "Very well, Madam." After Madam Jenny left, Karen pointed to the two paintings on the coffee table. "Take a look." Alfred picked them up to examine them, looking puzzled. "Could Mr. Bede be using retreat as a means of advancement?" "Don't always default to thinking about the darker side of things. If he wanted to retreat to advance, he would've been better off sending me blueprints for the wedding venue. Back in Samsara Valley, he told me he wanted to design a wedding with a red palette—festive red, that is, not bloody." "Did you discern anything from it, Young Master?" "Nothing at all," Karen shook his head. "Which makes me feel all the more that the God of Order suppressing Rielsa was entirely justified. Can't people just speak plainly or write it down clearly? Why must they play mysterious and force others to guess?" "I agree completely, Young Master." "Everything is set up, right? Where is Kevin?" "Waiting next door." "Mm. Push me over, then." "Right away, Young Master." "By the way, you mentioned Raniedal once assassinated a third of the Sea God Cult's high-ranking members. When did that happen?" "I do not know, and he didn't elaborate. But presumably, since he is willing to teach for the sake of his pride, he must have real substance to offer. An evil god is an evil god, after all." "If it was before he attained godhood, that truly was impressive. If it was after becoming a god, going around assassinating high-ranking officials of the Sea God Cult as a deity would be rather... mischievous." "I believe the latter is far more likely, Young Master." "I think so too. I'd even wager that after asking the God of Order to help suppress and slay the Sea God, he went off to assassinate the Cult's higher-ups. That dog is entirely capable of such tasteless antics, and he'd probably find it amusing and gloat about it." Alfred nodded in agreement. "Such an opponent is actually even more terrifying, because he has no bottom line." Having dropped that quiet slander, Alfred immediately followed up with a mitigating remark: "Just as leaving money on a table in plain sight of cleaning servants will inevitably tempt greed, it's best for us to keep the money locked safely in a drawer." "I know what to do." ... The unsealing ritual was already set up. Kevin sat in the center of the drawn circle. Alfred wheeled Karen into the circle as well, then stepped back to begin preparing the ritual's activation. Philomena, Ventura, and Muri stood guard at various vantage points near the door and windowsill. Purr was far more casual, sitting by herself and munching on grapes. Karen looked at Kevin before him and smiled gently. "Sorry to have kept you waiting." "Woof." Kevin wore an honest, warm smile. Karen reached out and patted Kevin's head, and Kevin nuzzled his cheek against Karen's leg on his own initiative. "All right, let's begin." "Yes, Young Master." "Woof." Alfred activated the ritual. Karen kept his hand rested on Kevin's head without moving, and their spiritual energies began to intertwine. *Grandpa Hoffen, once again I am ignoring your advice to unseal another layer for an evil god.* Standing nearby, Philomena felt a tinge of regret for her deceased grandmother. Her grandmother had always loved listening to her stories about the outside world—though that had been preparation for eventually replacing her; still, it didn't change the fact that her grandmother simply liked listening to stories. Unfortunately, this was a story she would never get to hear: her squad captain, Karen—the man her grandmother had called handsome even when just looking at his picture in the newspaper, the grandson of the very man her grandmother had talked about for more than half her life—was currently breaking the seal of an imprisoned evil god. Philomena blinked and adjusted her stance slightly. The faint trace of regret in her mind instantly vanished, for she suddenly remembered that she had killed her grandmother with her own hands. Never mind, then. Ventura kept an eye outside the window while glancing back inside from time to time. Ever since learning the true identity of this golden retriever, every time it was his turn to feed the dog, he would squat down and feed it with great seriousness. Whatever he ate, he shared with the dog, always giving it portions he hadn't touched. Little Rock wasn't deliberately trying to curry favor with an evil god; he simply regarded the evil god as an exotic creature. Accustomed to a hard life, he naturally treated such a rare and precious pet with extra care. Muri faced the door, unmoving. He had to look professional so as to contrast with the two who weren't. Alfred released his hands. The ritual was fully engaged, running smoothly. "Drop your mental defenses," Karen instructed. Kevin immediately dropped his mental defenses. Karen closed his eyes, and Kevin closed his as well. *Buzz!* ... *Crash... crash...* A beach? Was it a beach again? Karen heard the sound of ocean waves, yet darkness surrounded him on all sides. Looking up, he couldn't see the moon either. Yet he knew Raniedal had to be right beside him; this was the god's soul memory. Just like the first time he had broken Kevin's seal, he could witness scenes from the depths of his soul, and this time was no exception. *Snap!* First came a shower of sparks, followed by a campfire roaring to life right in front of Karen. Behind the fire sat a man clad in half-draped scale armor. Wounds covered the man's body, with distinct signs of ongoing corruption in several places, but he paid them no mind. Using a broken iron sword skewering a slab of meat, he roasted it over the campfire. With the aid of the firelight, Karen realized that the sound of waves he had heard earlier wasn't the ocean at all, but rivers of blood flowing along both sides. The reason he couldn't see the sun or moon above was that overhead stretched an endless wall of flesh, pulsating with a rhythmic beat. He was inside the body of an enormous creature. *Munch, munch, munch...* The man chewed rapidly through the roast meat, finishing it in no time. Feeling unsatisfied, he drove the broken sword straight into the flesh beside him, gouged out another chunk, and went back to roasting. This method of sourcing ingredients on the spot was genuinely quite convenient. As he ate, a fierce shockwave roared from the distance. Bubbles began to boil up in the blood rivers on both sides, like water on the verge of a rolling boil. The man noticed, but merely smiled and continued eating. Finally, flames began to flicker atop the blood, and terrifying lava surged in from every direction, threatening to overwhelm the place. "I haven't even had my fill yet, and you're already in such a hurry to cook yourself?" The man patted his belly and stood up. He cracked his neck with a series of sharp pops, raised his fist, and drove it straight downward. *Boom!* As that punch landed, Karen's perspective shifted rapidly, for the man had punched clean through the floor beneath them. After the dizzying transition, Karen found himself on the surface, with an actual sea of magma roiling beneath his feet. "Haha!" The man's laughter rang out. Like a diver resurfacing, he breached the molten surface. Seemingly not satisfied, he scooped up magma with both hands and rubbed it under his armpits, as if bathing in a hot spring. His entire body gleamed with a metallic sheen. The only flaw was perhaps that he was completely hairless. *Splash, splash...* The man paddled a dog paddle through the magma until he reached the shore. Once on land, he ripped off the half-melted, falling-apart scale armor and tossed it casually to the ground. Naked, he blew a breath toward the pitch-black darkness ahead. In an instant, what looked like countless fireflies emerged, illuminating the vast expanse before them. A giant dragon covered in red scales lay coiled there in extreme exhaustion. In size, it was virtually identical to the frost dragon Karen had seen Foden ride. A massive wound tore across the dragon's abdomen, blood flowing incessantly. Its aura was severely depleted; evidently, in the fierce battle against the man, it had been utterly overpowered. At that moment, the figure of a woman clad in blue divine robes manifested. She spoke to the man: "Raniedal, the one you want to kill is me. Spare it. It is merely my friend, and it is innocent." "Ptui!" The man spat a puff of white mist toward the ground, his saliva evaporating the moment it left his mouth. "When you called it to deal with me, you said you were going to roast me and eat me! Now you want to play the noble, sentimental card with me? Too late! Besides, my armor is ruined. I'm going to pull out its dragon sinew for cords and rip off its hardest scales for plating to make myself a brand-new suit of armor." "Raniedal, I do not understand why you have hunted me down! I have never offended you!" "You want to know why? Fine, I'll tell you. Listen well!" The man put his hands on his hips and shouted: "One month ago, the Sea God Cult's high council held an internal meeting to re-rank the affiliated gods. They originally planned to promote Goddess Mills from thirteenth to twelfth in the sequence of affiliated deities under the Sea God Cult!" The man pointed an accusing finger at the woman, and roared: "And you dared to vote against it!"