"Where's my iced coffee?" Neo complained petulantly from his stretcher. "Hey, I'm talking to you! Where is the section chief's iced coffee?"
Karen replied, "Didn't buy you any. As you know, the shops in the teleportation circle hall charge extortionate prices. By the spending standards of any sensible household, shopping here means you've completely lost your mind."
With that, Karen took a sip from the cup of coffee in his hand and frowned slightly. Ventura had added too much sugar.
"Karen, don't you think you're going a bit too far? Everyone gets a drink, and suddenly you start preaching thrift and frugality when it comes to me?"
"I didn't buy you one because I'm afraid whatever you drink will leak right back out. Are you really not aware of how many holes you currently have in your body? Right now, you possess a physical condition that would make any gardener green with envy, considering you're basically a walking watering can."
"That wasn't my fault! Who would've thought Torrisa had imbued his sword with such a disgusting elemental property? It severely delayed my recovery. Otherwise, I would've been mostly healed by now. Karen, I'm dying of thirst. I need something to wet my throat. I feel like if I touch my lips right now, the skin and flesh will tear right off."
"Bear with it a little longer. Once we're back in the region and you're checked into the church hospital, you can eat and drink whatever your heart desires. After all, there will be hospital aides to clean up after you."
"The way you talk makes it sound like I'm an eighty-year-old paralyzed in bed who can't take care of himself."
"Doesn't it fit? You're actually worse off than an old man like that."
"Then don't you feel guilty treating me like this? Has your conscience been pickled in a vat of brine?"
"In your current state, even a biological son wouldn't want to attend to you, so you hardly have the right to be harsh on me."
"You make an awful lot of sense, but aren't you afraid that next time, it'll be you who's gravely injured?"
"Fine. Next time I'm hurt, you can have your revenge. Put it on the tab for now."
"Oh, I will. I've always had an excellent memory. No matter how much time passes, I remember every single person who has ever crossed me with crystal clarity."
"In plain terms, you're petty."
"Heh."
In truth, Neo knew Karen was withholding drinks not out of fear of a messy cleanup—even if Karen didn't feel like lifting a finger, Ventura and Muri were right there. The real reason was that his wounds had just been stitched up, and taking in food or liquids right now could easily cause them to worsen.
A bloodthirsty aberrant demon's bloodline ability accelerated wound recovery; it didn't grant immortality. Given the peculiar nature of his current injuries, improper care carried a genuine risk of sudden death.
As for all his complaining, it was just whining for the sake of whining, purely a way to kill time out of boredom.
"The young master's light lies just ahead, banishing confusion and guiding the way. We must obey the young master's..."
Hearing these words, Neo turned his head toward the stretcher next to him, where his fellow patient lay... Alfred.
Karen also looked over at Alfred, caught between laughter and tears.
Alfred had inherited the legacy of the phantom beast Compasini. That should have been a cause for celebration, and indeed it was.
However, the aftereffects of the inheritance were now showing themselves, leaving Alfred somewhat unable to distinguish dream from reality.
His condition was much like someone who had been administered anesthesia. Not everyone given anesthetics simply slept soundly or remained unconscious; in fact, a large percentage turned into chatterboxes under the effects, babbling non-stop even when no one was speaking to them.
Fortunately, this required no treatment and caused no concern. In a few days, he would naturally finish digesting the legacy and return to normal, just like a drunkard sobering up after a good night's sleep.
Still, for Alfred, who normally took great pains to maintain his image, this scene was genuinely rare to witness.
Neo teased, "I suspect the guy's faking unconsciousness, deliberately spouting this stuff to show off his loyalty."
"Then take notes and do the same next time."
"Of course. Next time Bernie treats me, I'll chant slogans too: 'Under the leadership of our director, we shall inaugurate a glorious new era for the Whip of Order...'
"Listen to that—I've already come up with the words! But I still need to polish it, ideally crafting a series of rhyming parallels."
"You'd better not. I'm afraid you'll end up sweeping the streets for days again."
"Sweeping streets is nothing. Compared to your side effects, I feel quite blessed."
Karen ignored him.
"It's a pity about this trip," Neo sighed. "That mental imprint chose to dissipate rather than leave. If we could've brought it out, setting up illusion arrays in the future would be so much simpler and more efficient."
"One shouldn't be too greedy."
"Ah..." Neo blinked and yawned. "How much longer until the teleportation? I'm getting sleepy."
"Should be soon. The scheduled time has arrived, after all."
"Let's get home quickly. Traveling really exhausts me."
"I thought it was fine. As an expedition, there was a lot of thunder and very little rain," Karen commented. "So, was it just to give me a greater thrill of adventure that you didn't tell me the truth beforehand?"
"Do you think I'm that bored?"
"Yes, you are."
"Phew..." Neo sighed. "I don't feel like explaining. You'll understand later."
"Don't want to trade secrets anymore? I remember you still owe me quite a few."
"You'll find out once this fellow wakes up."
"Can't you just tell me directly?"
"If you put some things too bluntly, it ruins the flavor."
"All right then. Does that cave need to be reported?"
"What do you think?" Neo countered. "Torrisa is already dead, by the most brutal method possible, thoroughly wiped out. Why bother going through the extra trouble? Besides, if you report it, that Sword of Diamans currently strapped to your back might not remain yours."
Whip of Order squads had their own unspoken rules when carrying out missions, but the prerequisite for those unspoken rules was keeping them off the table.
This was especially true regarding spoils of war. As long as things weren't brought out into the open, you could take them for yourself. But if you reported it to higher-ups and they dispatched people to handle the cave, it wouldn't make sense for the bodies to be there while the weapons and sacred tools on them were gone. Compasini was a phantom beast, not an iron-eating beast.
Furthermore, some of the deceased likely came from established families whose lineages were still active. For them to demand the return of their ancestors' weapons and sacred tools would be a completely normal request.
"When I told Torrisa I'd report it, I just wanted to make him squirm before he died. Now there's no point in that. It's not like he can sense anything anymore, and having the goods in hand is what really counts.
"The spoils brought back this time are enough to re-arm your entire squad. Even though your squad has plenty of young masters and young ladies, high-grade weapons and sacred tools aren't things their families are easily willing to spend a fortune equipping junior members with.
"Especially that Sword of Diamans of yours. It definitely possesses even greater value. When you spar with me in the future, you're not allowed to use that sword. It has the ability to counter my bloodline regeneration."
"True damage?" Karen mused. "Or does it slow down the circulation and vitality of flesh and blood?"
"I don't think you need to study it, because under normal circumstances, you'll rarely encounter another bloodthirsty aberrant demon of my grade."
"Since advancing to Adjudicator, I haven't had a good, satisfying fight with anyone."
"Why didn't you fight Torrisa when he was around?"
"Because I knew I couldn't beat him while he was in the sand pit. Besides, whenever something can be resolved with brains, I prefer not to use brawn."
"Then your life is destined to miss out on a lot of fun."
Karen nodded and took another sip of his oversweetened coffee. "Perhaps it's because my pursuit of fun isn't nearly as intense as yours."
"Heh, taking digs at me again."
Just then, the semi-conscious Alfred suddenly began to sing: "There has never been any savior, nor deities or emperors..."
This was the Church Affairs Building of the Church of Order, a gathering place for believers of God, yet Alfred's voice was remarkably clear, even ringing out with resonance—only, he wasn't singing in any language of this world.
Passing priests cast their gazes in their direction, though none could understand the meaning of the lyrics.
Karen took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Neo remarked, "I can tell. Right now, you're experiencing a secret thrill from brushing against taboo."
"Yes," Karen said. "I suppose this is my idea of fun."
***
The activation of the teleportation circle was delayed half an hour past schedule. The front desk claimed it was due to a dust storm in the Dinge Region, which, through a chain reaction, had inevitably disrupted teleportation projects in other regions as well.
Karen found this excuse utter nonsense. The Dinge Region was situated on a peninsula, bordered by the sea, with moist air, breathtaking natural scenery, and lush greenery—a paradise representing love and beauty in the Maklai language group.
So where on earth would a dust storm come from?
Did the sand cross the ocean from another continent just to pay a visit?
Still, now was not the time to fuss over it. They had likely just thrown together an offhand excuse for their delay. The fact that they hadn't blamed it on extreme drought in Wien was already showing plenty of respect for his intelligence.
They had quite a bit of luggage, mainly consisting of spoils. Karen had initially planned to save on points by packing the baggage separately and sending it through the freight teleportation circle, which would be far cheaper.
However, doing so had one drawback: the passengers might arrive long beforehand while the luggage took several hours or even a whole day, as the other end would surely wait to pool enough cargo for a single batch to cut costs.
Since Karen had to attend his uncle's birthday banquet—a request his grandmother had insisted on multiple times over the phone—he had to grit his teeth, pay the extra baggage fee, and have everyone carry the goods on their backs to teleport together.
To be honest, he wasn't genuinely worried about Richard. With that little Jerry inside him, Richard could slowly recover no matter how grave his injuries were, and no matter how furious his parents were, they wouldn't actually beat their son to death.
The main reason was that his grandmother had gone so far as to let him listen to her own grandson's screams over the line. With her favoring him to such an extent, it really wouldn't do for Karen to decline any longer.
After teleporting to the York City Region and heading down to the parking lot, they found Bart, Mars, and Blanche already waiting. Behind them, Dinkum and Pick had specifically driven a hearse over to transport people and cargo.
Karen instructed, "First, take the section chief to the church hospital. Make it quick—the section chief is about to drop dead."
Neo felt rather gratified hearing that.
"If the section chief kicks the bucket on the way, just bring him straight back. It's a hearse anyway, so once you're back, we can jump right into the funeral parlor's procedures."
Neo: "..."
"Get all these things settled first. Muri, you're in charge."
"Understood, Captain."
"Someone's waiting outside to pick me up. I need to make a trip to the Guman house, so I'll be leaving first."
"Captain," Philomena caught up with him.
"What is it?"
"I'll come with you."
"Are you worried about Richard?"
Philomena raised the Nightmare Blade in her hand and said, "I want to return this blade to Madame Tangli in person."
"The old lady didn't ask for it back, which counts as tacit consent. Besides, she's up in years and has no use for it anymore. I'm sure she'd rather see it put to good use than left to gather dust."
"The old madam dislikes me. I cannot accept her belongings."
"Mm, fine. Suit yourself."
Truly a stubborn, proud, and withdrawn girl.
Karen led Philomena toward the exit. Stepping onto the street across from the main entrance, he spotted a brown sedan parked there, with Mr. Aisen standing by the car door.
As they drew near and got ready to enter, Karen realized that Old Delon was actually sitting in the passenger seat.
Karen had no choice but to take the back seat with Philomena.
Aside from a brief nod upon meeting, Mr. Aisen spoke not a word and simply started driving.
His illness had improved considerably, but what he needed now was to relearn how to interact with the world—such as relearning how to get along with his wife.
And, of course, repaying Richard double the fatherly love he owed him.
Not wanting the atmosphere in the car to grow awkward, Old Delon turned with a smile to Karen sitting behind him and asked, "Been away?"
"Yes, out on some business."
"Oh, go smoothly?"
"Quite smoothly."
"That's good."
Old Delon remembered the fruit he had deliberately brought along before leaving, which was tucked under the back seat. Turning around, he reached out to retrieve it so he could offer some to the two youngsters.
Seeing the old man extend his hand, Philomena misunderstood and reached out to shake it.
Old Delon froze for a second, then could only shake her hand.
Afterward, to avoid embarrassment, he had to turn back around without grabbing the fruit.
"You're unhurt as well?"
Philomena shook her head. "I'm fine."
"Well, I heard about what happened with your family."
"Oh."
"You're welcome to drop by our house often in the future. His grandmother might look a bit fierce, but she's always had a soft heart."
"No need."
"We collected your grandmother's remains and laid them to rest in a small cemetery after proper arrangements."
"How much is the cemetery upkeep fee?"
"Uh... there's really no need to be polite about that. If you'd like to know the location, I can tell you."
"No need."
"Mm, all right. At any rate, you're always welcome at our home."
"Oh."
Old Delon felt not the slightest aversion toward this "impolite" girl. In many cases, people despised reflections of themselves, which was why he believed his wife disliked Philomena so much.
Thinking back to the first time he brought her home, her personality had been just like this, freezing the dining table into silence more times than anyone could count. Yet that had never stopped her from becoming a virtuous wife and mother later on.
Old Delon believed a woman's temperament needed polishing.
As long as a man possessed wisdom, he could polish her temperament smooth; an even wiser approach was to serve as the whetstone yourself, letting her grind down all your temper until none remained.
In short, he couldn't be more satisfied with Philomena.
Beyond finding her pleasing to the eye and the sense of déjà vu, there was another reason—much like how wealthy families sometimes chose outstanding athletes as spouses for the next generation.
The family already had everything else, so upgrading the genetic stock of the next generation became paramount.
This aspect was regarded with extreme gravity in church circles, and within family-faith factions, people fought tooth and nail to secure one another's lineage inheritances.
The old man had always believed the brilliance of his eldest daughter was thanks to the bloodline influence of his wife's side.
Moreover, aside from that early-deceased eldest daughter, his remaining son and daughter had both advanced to Jurist in their middle years—an achievement unprecedented in the family's history.
Yet by Richard's generation, Old Delon had already abandoned hope for Richard himself. If an exceptional girl could be found to bear the next generation of offspring, Richard could at least be considered to have fulfilled his historical mission of carrying the torch between past and future.
Of course, people were hypocritical by nature. When Old Delon had chosen Madame Tangli back then, improving the family lineage hadn't crossed his mind in the slightest. After all, the Arte family bloodline carried a curse; he had been fully prepared for the Guman family line to end with him just so he could marry the woman he loved.
Even so, that didn't stop him from acting a bit pragmatic now in orchestrating and nudging things along for his grandson.
Naturally, the old man had no idea that the young man sitting right behind him had long since elevated the bloodline bearing Guman ancestry to an absurdly exaggerated level.
The car arrived at the house, and everyone got out.
Karen saw his grandmother already waiting in the yard. Not teleporting directly into the vehicle was already the height of her restraint.
"Oh, my little Karen is back! Come, let Grandma see how your injuries are doing."
Her tone and expression gave Karen an overwhelmingly strong sense of familiarity.
Then it hit him—
Wasn't this exactly the tone Purr used whenever he returned home!
As Madame Tangli spoke, she trotted over to Karen, taking his wrist in her right hand and gently stroking his cheek with her left.
"Tsk, tsk..." Delight washed over Madame Tangli's face. "You've truly made a near-complete recovery. Absolutely miraculous."
For an ordinary person, a soul injury of that severity would essentially render them an invalid, yet Karen had managed to fully mend through sheer grit. As expected of my grandson.
At this moment, completely oblivious to the mood, Philomena raised the Nightmare Blade and said to Madame Tangli, "Returning this to you."
Madame Tangli turned her head to look at Philomena, the rich warmth and affection in her eyes instantly turning icy cold.
"I gave it to you, so it's yours. I don't want it back."
His grandmother was generous, after all. The blade had originally been meant as a gift for Karen. Even if it had ended up in the hands of Karen's subordinate, so long as it helped Karen out, she had no objection.
Besides, Madame Tangli had also noticed the sword slung across Karen's back. Though seals had been placed upon it, she could still perceive the uniqueness of that greatsword.
Philomena shook her head. "I do not want it."
"What, you look down on it?"
The scent of gunpowder began to rise.
The old lady had only had one son in her lifetime, which meant only one daughter-in-law. But because her son had suffered mental issues, her daughter-in-law had been stationed away in other regions for many years. Upon returning, she had been effortlessly brought to heel. Consequently, the old lady had never experienced the sharp back-and-forth clashes typical of traditional domestic drama.
Philomena shook her head again. "It is very good."
"You don't like it?"
"I like it very much."
"Then why won't you take it?"
"Grandmother said never to casually accept valuable gifts from others, because she will definitely want to take even more from you in return."
Old Delon blinked from the side.
Madame Tangli said, "Your grandmother is dead. Before dying, she told me to pass along a message: if a gift suits you, just take it; turning down an advantage means you've lost your mind."
Philomena shook her head. "I killed her with my own hands and didn't even want to hear her dying words. It is impossible that you heard her speak."
The corner of Madame Tangli's mouth twitched.
Karen noticed his grandmother's right palm stiffen slightly, as if she might slap Philomena across the face at any second.
In truth, that was precisely how Madame Tangli had disciplined her daughter-in-law, Kaixi, in the beginning. After being bound and strung up just once, Kaixi had instantly become meek and obedient.
Being a gentle wife and loving mother was just her hobby, not her true nature.
Stepping in to smooth things over, Old Delon said softly to Philomena, "Since it suits you and you like it, keep it. You are Karen's subordinate, and Karen is hardly an outsider to us. Broadly speaking, we are all one family."
Philomena replied bluntly, "We don't even share the same surname. How can we be family?"
Left thoroughly embarrassed, Old Delon could only turn to his wife and say in an even gentler tone, "Young people have stubborn tempers. As an elder, you should be a little more—"
"Get lost!"
"Oh."
Old Delon fell silent and stood to the side.
Karen felt somewhat helpless and had to say to Philomena himself, "Accept it, and say thank you."
Philomena looked up at Karen, then lowered the blade and said to Madame Tangli, "Thank you for your gift."
After her grandmother's death, the only person Philomena truly feared was Karen. With anyone else, even someone stronger than her, she would rather be beaten to death than budge on her attitude.
"Grandma, that's just her personality," Karen said. "She's not a bad person at heart. Once you get to know her, you'll actually find her quite charming."
Karen wasn't making this up; even Purr had come to think Philomena was somewhat adorable after getting used to her.
Madame Tangli took a deep breath, her expression softening as she addressed Philomena: "I can sense it has taken a liking to you. I have no further use for it, so please treat it well."
Philomena responded, "I will. Thank you."
The atmosphere was finally brought back to harmony.
Karen smiled. "Grandma, I'm hungry."
"Oh, right! Come inside, everyone inside!" Madame Tangli ushered Karen in.
Philomena remained rooted in place.
Karen glanced back at her, and Philomena immediately stepped forward to follow.
Inside the house, Karen saw his aunt, uncle-in-law, and their daughter were also there. A large cake sat in the kitchen, but there was no sign of Richard.
Just then, Karen noticed Mr. Aisen behind him asking his wife:
"Where's Richard?"
Before leaving, he had instructed his wife to bandage their son up so he could come out and greet the guests.
Kaixi whispered back to her husband, "After you left, I couldn't hold back and gave him another thrashing."
Mr. Aisen was taken aback. "Where is he now?"
"I didn't have time to clean him up, so I hung him up in the basement for now."
In truth, the angriest person wasn't Aisen the father, but Kaixi the mother.
From Mr. Aisen's perspective, his son was a scoundrel who had used his name to fool around outside.
From Mrs. Kaixi's perspective, not only was her son a scoundrel, but she also bore immense fury over the slander against her husband's reputation. Her husband had actually become a celebrity across an entire street of pastry shops—how could any wife tolerate such humiliation!
Hearing the exchange between his uncle and aunt behind him, Karen couldn't help being astonished. Richard had truly stepped on a massive landmine this time, successfully stirring the long-dormant parental care deep within his mother and father.
However, just as Karen thought Uncle Aisen would suggest letting Richard down, he heard Uncle Aisen reply:
"Then let's have dinner first. Once dinner is over, we'll go down to the basement to continue."
Chapter 563