Everything Is a Conspiracy of Order

"Cursed Fruit" probably wasn't its real name. There were likely many fruits in the world called Cursed Fruit. Karen had heard Richard mention that a pastry shop sold a fruit used for abortions by streetwalkers who accidentally got pregnant with clients and didn't want to spend money going to a hospital, which was also called "Cursed Fruit." However, Malri's fruit was certainly not the abortion variety. It truly carried immense corruption; if its juice splashed into someone's mouth, nose, or open wounds, it could easily cause severe contamination. But expecting to crush it and use it like a hand grenade was clearly overestimating it—Malri had obviously brought it out intending to intimidate them. On this point, Karen had plenty of authority to speak, given that he had already chewed the fruit to pieces in his mouth. It tasted a bit sour, but had a sweet aftertaste, with a texture like pickled cucumbers—tender yet crisp. Naturally, with it came terrible corruption, but to Karen, such corruption was truly negligible. Gods were the greatest sources of corruption in this world. His body had been reshaped by Raniedal, he had absorbed the Bone of the Dark Moon and the Eye of the Dark Moon, and most importantly, he was currently enduring backlash from the rules of Order itself... With so much corruption gathered within him, it was only because these pollutants were either dormant or focused solely inward on Karen that he wasn't a walking calamity to everything around him. So a single fruit was truly nothing to Karen. In fact, facing Malri's stunned expression, Karen had originally intended to spit the mouthful out, but hesitated and refrained. First, such an uncivilized act went against Karen's habits. Second, he actually felt a bit reluctant to waste it. It was somewhat absurd: on the journey here, he had warned Neo not to rely too heavily on those psychotropic potions, yet here he was, chewing on a toxic pollutant, finding it rather tasty and satisfying. Ultimately, Karen swallowed it down. At once, his body and soul were struck by opposing sensations of chilling cold and scorching heat, like the alternating chills and fever of an illness. However, Karen's threshold had long been elevated to a terrifying height by having struck himself with the Scythe of War. What he felt right now amounted to nothing more than a chilly breeze with a touch of dampness. Malri's eyes bulged so wide they looked ready to pop out of their sockets at any moment. Then, as a sand bandit boss accustomed to playing both sides of the law, he instantly realized what he ought to do. His knees went limp, and he went to kneel. Yet he didn't succeed, because Karen seized him by the throat. "What are you trying to do, sir?" Malri's throat trembled as he stammered, "I... I was wrong..." "Pardon?" Karen asked. "I said I—" A ruthless glint surfaced in Malri's eyes. Since the man had no intention of accepting his surrender, he had to resort to the most extreme measure. From holes in his clothing slithered black vipers with gelatinous bodies, half-soul, half-corporeal creatures he had bred himself. But Karen gave him no opportunity to counterattack. Thousand Phantoms, prepared well in advance, flew from Karen's sleeve and severed Malri's neck in an instant. With Malri's death, the venomous snakes he had reared collapsed to the ground, their bodies rapidly desiccating. Evidently, some form of shared-life taboo linked them together. "You..." Nailing stared at Neo in horror. Her mind was in disarray, leaving her no time to process that the man before her possessed bloodthirsty aberrant demon bloodlines—and of an exceedingly high rank, at that. "Thank you. My neck has been aching for ages. I kept trying to crack it myself to get some relief, but never managed. Now it finally feels good." While speaking, Neo didn't keep his hands idle. Moving at near-afterimage speed, his ten fingernails sank into Nailing's shoulders, then tore free. He murmured softly: "Blood Waterfall." Buzz! In an instant, the ten puncture wounds on Nailing's shoulders violently erupted with spurting blood. She felt completely drained—though unfortunately for her, the sensation was very brief. Before long, with the swift loss of blood, her vital signs vanished, and she collapsed to the ground with a thud. This wasn't a battle; it was an ambush. Just as Malri and his "granddaughter" had ambushed Karen and Neo moments earlier, they had merely received the exact same in return. It was just an infuriating way to die, for the clash ended in an instant, offering no chance to display any of one's abilities. Then again, that seemed to be the true norm of this world—much like a student spending ages studying and doing exercises for an exam, only for the test to cover just a few specific points. Karen looked at the blood pooling around them and frowned slightly. When his boots inevitably stepped into the viscous bloodstains, his brow furrowed deeper. "Director, I think you should pay more attention to hygiene." Neo said nonchalantly, "I think the pleasure just now was what mattered most." "Yes, pleasure is important, but have you considered that we'll need to ride this sand skiff on our way back? This place will have to be scrubbed down!" Neo froze for a second, then admitted, "My oversight." "I didn't even spit out that Cursed Fruit earlier just to save ourselves the trouble of cleaning up later." "Now you're just watering down the truth. You think I didn't notice the look on your face when you swallowed it? I saw that fleeting moment of bliss." "Your eyes were playing tricks on you." "Heh." Ventura shouted, "Captain! Director! A group of people is closing in outside!" Neo asked, "Why is 'Captain' ahead of 'Director'?" "Because... because..." Ventura truly hadn't expected the Director to focus on that at a time like this. Karen gave the order directly: "Take them out." "Yes, sir!" "Yes, sir!" With a loud boom, the group encircling the sand skiff halted in unison. Bang! A stone giant crashed down, shaking the surrounding sand. "Heh heh." Ventura spread his arms, clapped his hands together sharply, cracked his neck, and let out a gruff chuckle from deep in his throat. Neo stepped out of the sand skiff and chuckled. "Why does this kid have so many little mannerisms? Who's he mimicking?" "I don't have redundant combat habits." "Hey, you don't?" Neo scoffed. "There's one thing I've always wondered about, Karen." "Now isn't the time for a Q&A session." Neo nodded. "Namely, how do you manage to be just as shameless as me while still looking completely proper?" "Do I need to answer?" "No, not at all. I just wanted to mock you." Karen shifted his gaze toward the perimeter, too lazy to indulge Neo any further. By now, the battle had erupted. In his giant form, Ventura rampaged through their ranks, drawing the lion's share of enemy fire on his own. Muri held a round shield and short blade, guarding near him and mopping up any stragglers. Alfred maintained an equidistant position, repeatedly activating the Succubus Eye to assault the sand bandits with illusions. As for Philomena, her role was even simpler: operating solo on the periphery, she eliminated one or two bandits every time she struck. This band of sand bandits was considered rather formidable in the region, perhaps even elite, but Karen's party was an elite squad from an orthodox church. Although they hadn't brought everyone along in order to avoid drawing attention, those selected were among their greatest combat assets. Consequently, what the sand bandits had envisioned as an ambush and encirclement devolved directly into a slaughter directed at them. Throughout the entire process, Karen and Neo didn't even need to lift a finger. Recalling when he had first arrived in Wien, constantly fretting alongside the people of Allen Manor over the royal family and the Raphael family's pressure, and comparing that to this small squad now possessing serious combat prowess... "Whew..." Karen exhaled. As if reading Karen's mind, Neo spoke up. "Feel a sense of achievement?" Karen remained silent. "Heh, I share the feeling. After all, your team is under my command, including you yourself, Karen." "Leave off the last sentence, or it starts to sound revolting." "Isn't it the truth? By the way, that manservant of yours is genuinely useful. He helped me a great deal while drafting the plan." "Yes, and in his plan, you'd be better off lying inside my coffin." "What sweet dreams he has. Before I die—" "You'll purify yourself?" "No. If you awaken me, I'll commit suicide right in front of your face." "You don't usually strike me as someone so resolute." "When I die, it'll certainly be because I've played my fill. I won't die of an accident, of that I'm certain." "We're on an expedition. Watch your words." "Fine, fine. Once they're taken care of, we can move on to the next step. Our destination is right ahead. Ah, I really can't wait." The one-sided battle didn't conclude immediately, mainly because hunting down those who fled took a bit of extra time. By the time they returned, however, their captain had already prepared dinner for them. Using deep-fried noodles prepared by Allen Manor, he dropped them into a pot of boiling water, added beef paste and chili sauce, and finished by tossing in a large handful of dehydrated vegetables. Everyone ate with gusto, though Karen himself didn't eat much, as the flavor reminded him of braised beef instant noodles from his past life. After dinner, they disposed of the corpses, concealed the sand skiff, and strapped on their packs. Under the starlight, they set off behind the Director. In truth, Karen had also wondered whether the entire expedition was going a bit too smoothly. Under normal circumstances, such smooth sailing would trigger an instinctive sense of danger. On second thought, however, their party's strength was solidly guaranteed. More importantly, Neo, the leader of the expedition, wasn't just Neo; he had inherited nearly all of Mr. Philias's memories. Philias was a direct descendant of the Mad Pope, backed by profound ancestral lore, and possessed immense expedition experience of his own. In the end, standing on the shoulders of predecessors—on the shoulders of giants—it would actually be stranger if everything were still cloaked in impenetrable fog. "Here we are." Neo stopped in his tracks. Ahead lay sand—well, everything here was sand. Standing there, Karen couldn't sense any anomalies either. Neo squatted down, produced several scrolls, and laid them out on the ground. Ventura asked curiously, "Does opening the entrance require so many procedures?" Neo didn't reply. Karen answered on his behalf: "No, our Director probably doesn't know which scroll opens it, so he had to bring them all to try them out one by one." Neo couldn't help chiming in, "Do you have any idea how bad saying that right now is for morale?" "I think I'm just enlivening the atmosphere." "Fine, whatever you say. These scrolls weren't cheap anyway, but if they're wasted, so be it—they'll be billed to the operation's shared expenses in the end." "I never expected you to cover it out of pocket anyway." Neo's luck proved decent enough; the sand responded on the second scroll, sinking in to form a hollow depression. Alfred stepped forward to inspect it, then reported back, "Young Master, Director, this isn't a tomb." Neo gathered the remaining scrolls as he replied, "Nonsense, of course it's not a tomb. Compasini was hunted to death—how could he build himself a tomb? "Besides, building a tomb is practically preparing for grave robbers anyway. In this world, aside from the graveyard of our Church of Order's First Knight Order, every other tomb is bound to be raided sooner or later." "What about the God-Burial Grounds?" Ventura had truly been like an inquisitive child all along, though at his age, such curiosity was only natural. Neo glanced back at Karen out of the corner of his eye and chuckled. "Then take a guess: when our great God of Order emerged from the God-Burial Grounds, do you think he picked up a few toys on the way out to play with?" Karen walked over to the entrance, examined it, and called out to Neo, "Director, go down and scout the way first." Neo retorted, "Isn't cannon fodder duty usually given to the person of lowest status?" "Exactly." "Heh." Neo didn't argue further. He truly was the best choice for scouting. His body dissolved directly into black mist and plunged into the cave. About ten minutes later, the black mist returned to the surface, coalescing into Neo's form. "We can go in, no major issues. We aren't the first tomb raiders—oh, excuse me, church artifact preservers." "Could it be empty inside?" "No. I encountered a corpse, dead for roughly three hundred-odd years. The body remains bent at the waist, like a restaurant greeter posing in a bowing welcome." "Something's still living inside?" Muri asked. "I think you should ask that with a look of delight. After all, an empty trip is the worst-case scenario. All right, let's head down together. No need to leave anyone behind to watch the entrance—after all, if your captain dies down there, there's not much point in any of you surviving to go back alone, is there?" "Lead the way, Director." "All right, follow me." Neo turned into black mist once more and dove into the cavern. The others followed one after another, with Karen remaining at the rear. Thousand Phantoms manifested, coalescing into black wings. Before entering, Karen raised his arm, kicking up surrounding sand to lightly cover and conceal the opening. Only after descending did they discover that this was an underground fissure, winding and tortuous. However, this also proved from another angle that it wasn't a deliberately designed tomb. Once the descent ended and they began advancing on foot, Neo glanced pointedly at the wings Karen was folding away. "I have to admit, I like the getup." Karen replied, "If you get the chance in the future, you could fashion a pair of holy white wings." Neo seemed to picture holy white wings unfurling behind his back, then shook his head. "I pass." Continuing forward, the group soon reached a fork in the tunnel where they saw the corpse Neo had mentioned earlier. Clad in the robes of the Church of the Desert, the body gleamed with a silver-gray sheen, as though filled with mercury. It stood gesturing toward one of the entrances in an inviting pose, a smile still frozen on its face, which seemed intensely eerie in this setting. Philomena approached and inspected it. She wasn't frightened, but looking at the two passages ahead, she asked in confusion, "Which one do we take?" "Your surname may be Felscher, but the Felschers are still a family within the Church of Order. Have you forgotten your primary duty?" "Director?" "Every priest of the Church of Order's first reaction upon seeing a corpse should be to check whether it can still be 'awakened.' It's like a dog wanting to sniff every lamppost it sees." Karen remarked, "Light remnant, you're growing bolder by the day." "Even if I lost my mind one day and rebelled against the church, the most I could do would be a bit of sabotage. Once this little group of yours grows and matures, what you'll be doing is outright subversion. "Phew... airing our secret in front of so many people really brings an unspeakable thrill. Don't you think, Karen?" Karen walked up to the "welcoming corpse," examined it, and said, "I don't sense any residual spiritual power." "That's because it's sealed inside." Neo extended his index finger, the claw on it lengthening, and thrust it directly into the corpse's forehead between the brows. The nails of a bloodthirsty aberrant demon were their natural weapons—regenerative and razor-sharp. After piercing it, Neo drew his claw back out. From the slit between the corpse's brows, a silver-gray fluid dripped steadily. "The clues we have originated over three hundred years ago. This priest was very likely among the group who held and leaked those clues. So now, let him spoil the secret for us himself: what exactly lies deeper inside." Neo turned his head to look at Karen. "Your turn. His realm wasn't low—I can't 'awaken' him. Only you can. Come, show your loyal followers what you're capable of, Mr. Karen Inmeles. "By the way, how does it feel to have your real name called out in public?" Ignoring him, Karen stepped forward and raised his hand toward the corpse. As the liquid continued to flow from between its brows, faint, sporadic traces of residual spiritual power began to appear on the body. A Chain of Order materialized beneath Karen's feet, coiled once, and snaked toward the corpse. It climbed upward along the body, finally slithering into the cleft between the eyebrows. "Sleeping deceased of the Church of the Desert, in my name, Karen Inmeles, I command you to awaken!" Silence fell all around, leaving only the steady dripping of liquid. Buzz! The corpse's eyes snapped open, and it instantly shrieked: "Everything is a conspiracy of Order!!!"