The Former High Priest's Tantrum!

At the entrance of 13 Mink Street, Rasma, who had been standing with his back to the house, slowly turned around. His left eye socket was a pitch-black void—because that eye was currently "hanging" high in the sky. His right eye remained in place, yet it was filled with deep shock and fury. Rasma flailed his hands, roaring in a voice strained to its absolute limit, "You did all that for a cat?!" Rasma was angry—thoroughly, violently angry. If he could, he would have loved to smash this entire street to rubble with a single punch! For more than six months, he had stayed here for two reasons: one was to follow the traces Diss had left behind and try to condense his own godhead fragment; the other was to watch over this terrifying threat on behalf of the Church, a threat capable of shaking the Temple to its core at any moment. When Diss made that move earlier, Rasma had rushed over immediately, terrified that some catastrophe had struck. He had even wondered whether something had happened to Diss's grandson. And in the end, it was for a cat! Right now, he desperately wanted to charge inside, drag that fellow out of bed, seize him by the shoulders, shake him violently, and bellow in his face: *Don't you think this is going way too far?!* Yet the most maddening thing about the man lying in that house was that he never gave anyone room to negotiate. Ever since they first met in their youth, he had been that way: whatever he said, he did. He rarely gazed up at the stars to speak of ideals, because what ordinary people considered unattainable ideals were, to him, as simple as reaching up to pluck an apple from a tree. Not only could he pluck it effortlessly, he would take a bite and tell you plainly whether it was sweet or sour. Even during that encirclement half a year ago, which had mobilized three Temple Elders and an elite force from various Church departments, he hadn't bothered to negotiate either. Instead, he had cleanly detonated a godhead fragment, blasting the Temple of Order. Then he had told the Temple Elders present: *I still have two left. Do as you see fit.* You couldn't reason with a man like that, because he never gave you the chance to reason in the first place! You could refuse to follow his wishes, but you had to bear the consequences. "Diss, do you think I'm afraid of you just because of this?!" "You think lifting a finger means I'll go rescue a cat for you?!" "What do you take me, Rasma, for?! What do you take me for?!" "Do you think I'm still who I used to be? Do you think I'm still who I was before you fell into your slumber? Do you think that after serving as a priest on this street for so long, I haven't gained anything?" "No, you're wrong! I've gained a great deal! I feel like I've found the rhythm; I'm gradually mastering it. I don't even need to rush and try, because I know that with just a little more time, I will be able to raise my hand and condense a godhead fragment just like you did back then!" "I will catch up to you, and soon! So I won't allow you to treat me with this attitude ever again, Diss!" After venting all this, Rasma closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. "Just this once," he muttered. *** Lady Augie came to a halt. The moment she stopped, Karen, whom she had been carrying along at breakneck speed, finally felt the warmth of the world return. He even mobilized Ancestor Allen's fire-attribute power to warm himself. Of course, having undergone complete Order-conversion, utilizing this power would not arouse any suspicion. Augie cautioned, "Heating yourself with fire in such a hurry—aren't you afraid your body will shatter?" "Thank you for the warning, my Lady, but I can endure it." "Can you really?" "Yes." "Then you should have the strength to tell me what that is." Lady Augie pointed toward the colossal eye that had manifested across the sky ahead. Even from such a distance, its presence exerted immense pressure on the frost dragon. Karen answered vaguely on purpose, "That is an Eye of Order." "Do I look blind to you? You think I can't tell it's an Eye of Order? What I want you to tell me is whose Eye of Order that is." "Why do you think I would know, my Lady?" "Then why did you tell me to slow down just now?" Lady Augie tapped her forehead with a finger. "Most of the time, I play dumb so I can save what little wits I have for the critical moments." "My Lady..." "So I'm certain you know whose Eye of Order that is. Now tell me, if only for the sake of how long I've helped you chase down your family's missing cat!" "You were pursuing an assassin, my Lady—an assassin who targeted the family of our Church's bishop." Augie licked her lips, lifted her chin slightly, and arched a brow at Karen. "Do you know who you're talking to? Do you know why the Whip-Wielder placed seals inside me and won't let me reveal my true form casually? Do you know why I'm guarded so strictly? Don't you think I look very beautiful and sexy like this?" "Yes." "Right, you have good taste! Purely from the perspective of human mating, this physique of mine is the most suitable, and the best at provoking impulses in male humans of the same phase, because they know I can bear them strong offspring. That is life's most primal, instinctual choice." "You're quite right." "No, wait, we're off topic. Answer me quickly, or I'll eat you!" Lady Augie grabbed Karen by the throat and hoisted him into the air. In spiritual space, Karen had faced many powerful soul entities, but this was his first time confronting one physically in the flesh. After all, he had escaped before Mural God Rielsa awoke in the world beyond the door. Right now, he was facing an actual dragon, even if she currently "looked like" a human. When a dragon closed the distance and laid hands on your body, it usually meant you had already lost. If there were enough distance, Karen felt he might still have had room to maneuver. "My Lady, you had best calm down." "I'm very curious. If you don't tell me, I'll eat you up, and when I report back, I'll just say you were killed by the assassin during the pursuit. Hehehe, don't you think I'm clever?" "The assassin came to my home with the intention of killing me in the first place. Doing that means you're doing his job for him." "Oh, that's true." Lady Augie actually released her grip. Karen regained his freedom and quietly stepped back to open a little distance between them. "I really can't threaten you with death, but I don't want to beg you either. This is so vexing, so distressing." "My Lady..." Karen rubbed his neck as he spoke. "When you saw that Eye of Order, it undoubtedly saw you as well. If he wants you to know his identity, he will tell you himself." The Inmeles family was currently one of the highest taboos within the Church of Order, and Rasma's presence on Mink Street was likewise a secret. It was not Karen's place to speak of it unless Rasma wished to reveal himself. "You're speaking a whole lot of reasonable nonsense. But I still want to know. Maybe I can break the rules just this once. The Whip-Wielder won't know I killed you anyway, and as for what fallout it causes for the Church, I don't really care. If anything, the messier the Church of Order gets, the more chances I have to come out for fresh air." "You dare!" A voice boomed directly above Lady Augie's head. Augie looked up, only to be greeted by the sole of a shoe. *Bang!* A single kick sent Augie hurtling down toward the valley below like a shooting star, her body slamming deep into the mountainside. Bear in mind, she was a dragon. Karen genuinely hadn't expected anyone to blast a dragon away in such a simple, brutal fashion. "Phew... that was truly unimaginable." "What was unimaginable?" A dark silhouette slowly descended until it hovered level with Karen. Although his appearance and voice were concealed, Karen still recognized him. In this region, who else could pull off such a feat besides Lord Rasma? "She is a dragon." "I know. She has been following Foden since long ago." Rasma turned his head slightly. "Haven't you ever seen your grandfather fight?" "I have... but not really." "Oh, is your grandfather more elegant when he fights? He can toss out a forbidden curse—something most people can't cast in a lifetime of trying—as casually as a purification spell, and then cough a few times just to show that casting it came with a burden and a price." "Still, I think you have more presence, my Lord." "Presence?" Rasma paused. "Then let me ask you: whose fighting style do you prefer, mine or your grandfather's?" "I don't think my grandfather compares to you." "You dare lie to me." Karen smiled without a word. After a stretch of silence and an awful, suffocating tension, Rasma broke into a chuckle. "Hahaha!" He had tried hard to hold it in, but he couldn't. If Mason saying earlier that he sensed a familiar trace of his father in him had given Rasma a quiet swell of pleasure, then Karen's brazen, utterly unabashed flattery had struck his heart dead-on. He knew it was a lie, but he loved hearing it anyway. No one else could understand just how miserably he had been eclipsed by that man's brilliance during the prime of his youth, when he should have been at his most triumphant. It was just like the moonlit sky above: people's first instinct was always to look at the moon and count a few stars along the way, and no matter how brilliant a star was, it remained a backdrop to the moon. Very few people knew both him and Diss, so this was the very first time Rasma had ever heard such empty praise. "Why aren't you frantically telling me there's an urgent matter ahead that needs dealing with?" Karen replied, "Since my grandfather possesses an avatar, I'm certain you must have one as well, my Lord." The moment Rasma appeared before him, Karen knew Purr was out of danger. With an eye that massive hanging in the sky, there was no way Rasma hadn't noticed Purr. Even if he hadn't, Diss certainly would have. Grandfather might be asleep, but his gaze had always guarded the family. And now, Purr had returned home; this was her home as well. Although Purr and Diss had never been as close as Karen and Diss—in Purr's own words, Diss had never needed her guidance growing up, and before she could even exclaim, *Ah, my little Diss, you're all grown up,* he had already soared past her former peak—it remained undeniable that in Diss's heart, across his childhood, adulthood, marriage, raising his children, and finally raising his grandson, the silhouette of a black cat had been present throughout those memories. Even if her surname was Allen, Purr had long since made a habit of saying *our Inmeles family*. Diss had once warned the Church of Order that if his family ever suffered harm from Church forces, the Temple of Order would feel two resounding blasts. And "family" didn't refer only to Karen. "You rascal. I remember the first time I saw you, there was still bewilderment in your eyes. Now, you're truly far more mature and restrained. He's your grandfather, after all. When you left Ruilan, you hadn't even undergone purification; you weren't even a servant, yet now you're already..." Before Rasma could finish, the space beside him warped, and Lady Augie materialized, throwing a fist straight at his head. *Smack!* Her surprise punch was effortlessly blocked by Rasma raising a hand beside his cheek, so steady and smooth it looked as though Augie were cooperating in an exhibition match. "Who on earth are you?! I must know your identity!" Lady Augie shouted. "You don't need to know who I am, nor are you qualified to know." With that, Rasma shifted his stance, grabbed Augie's wrist with his left hand, and yanked her toward him. Augie, whose physical strength was terrifying, seemed to turn into a frail woman in Rasma's grasp. As she was dragged forward, Rasma raised his foot and kicked her squarely in the stomach. *Bang!* Once again, Lady Augie turned into a shooting star and plummeted downward. "Beating dragons is actually quite simple. Don't be fooled by her terrifying physical traits in human form; she hasn't adapted to distributing her power in this shape. Target the joints, and you can easily overpower her with strength far weaker than her own." Rasma delivered the lesson on the spot, almost as a reward for Karen's flattery earlier. Karen promptly said, "So that's how it is. My grandfather never taught me any of this." "Heh..." Rasma bit back another laugh. Perhaps this was the first time in his life he found a child who loved telling lies so endearing. Only Karen knew that Rasma's lesson was utterly useless. When your power exceeded Augie's, of course you could overpower her with minimal force; but when your strength was far below hers, she could effortlessly teach you how to behave through sheer, overwhelming might. "What's the deal with that fellow from the Church of the Fallen God?" Rasma had clearly received the message sent back by his avatar. "He's an assassin. Tonight in Yorktown, he nearly wiped out the Regional Chief Bishop's entire family." "Oh, so it was to frame the Desert God..." Just then, the space behind Rasma warped once more, and Lady Augie reappeared. Behind his back, she opened her maw wide, terrifying molten magma churning in her mouth, on the verge of erupting. *Snap!* Rasma snapped his fingers. Behind him, Lady Augie froze instantly, the searing magma held fast in her mouth, unable to spew forth. Rasma turned around and nudged Augie's jaw shut with his left palm. *Mmph, mmph...* In an instant, thick black smoke billowed from Augie's nostrils and ears, like a coal-fired locomotive blowing its whistle. Rasma's right fist had been clenched, but just before striking her head, he paused. Ultimately, he opened his fist, pressed his ring finger against his thumb, and flicked her forehead. *Thwack!* It was a crisp, clear snap, but to Augie, it felt as if someone had hammered a hundred fists against her skull all at once. It not only sent her flying, but also knocked her consciousness straight into a daze. This time, there was a difference: instead of dropping vertically, she flew in a wide arc. After flicking the dragon away, Rasma lowered his head, blew on his fingers, and shook his wrist. "How interesting. Did that fellow deliberately flee toward this area, using a teleportation array as a stepping stone?" "Yes, you're quite right, my Lord. I imagine he thought this area was a vacuum within our Church's sphere of influence." "A vacuum?" Rasma chuckled. "Next time, I'll have to set up a few stone tablets around the perimeter engraved with the words 'Restricted Area,' just so moths won't come blundering in for no reason." "That probably won't be necessary..." "Not necessary?" Rasma's expression darkened, and he let out a cold snort. "Hmph, if it had been you who was captured instead of that cat, just think about what would be happening right now." Karen sensed the shift in Rasma's mood. Such an abrupt change usually signaled that he was laying the groundwork for something. "How about this: since your grandfather is still asleep and can't wake up, as his peer—which makes me your elder—I ought to shoulder some responsibility on his behalf. Either way, I should whip you into shape a bit. It's for your own good, surely you understand?" "My Lord, I believe resolving the situation here as soon as possible is what matters most." "During training, even if a few bumps and bruises occur, or you suffer minor injuries, as long as your life isn't in danger, it's all worthwhile, isn't it?" "My Lord, I don't think this is the right time to absorb lessons and learn from you. The higher-ups in the Church have already been shaken by this assassination. We should..." "You agree, don't you? After all, suffering a little hardship and injury in exchange for substantial progress and heightened awareness—what a bargain, right?" Karen fell silent, realizing two things: First, Rasma wanted to teach him a lesson. Second, he wasn't really asking Karen; he was asking Diss for permission. Rasma gently rubbed a ring on his finger and smiled. "This dragon isn't suited to be a sparring partner. That assassin has already been wounded by me. You go deal with him, and I'll give you some pointers on your moves." "Thank you, my Lord, for granting me this rare opportunity. I will be sure to learn and reflect with all my heart." "Good, very good! It seems you've accepted gladly. Did you hear that? He accepted!" He shouted the last part at the top of his lungs, as if terrified that the old man lying in bed wouldn't hear clearly and end up misunderstanding. To put it plainly, Rasma truly did want to teach him something, but he also genuinely wanted an excuse to leave that man's grandson battered, bruised, or severely injured. He didn't dare touch the old one, so he could only balance the scales on the young one. Otherwise, who knew? If he was made to rescue a cat this time, would they send him to rescue a dog next time?! Karen spoke with utmost respect: "Please rest assured, my Lord. Once I return, I will definitely pass on everything you teach me today to Vic." "Vic? You know Vic?" "Oh, it seems you weren't aware, my Lord. Vic is currently under my command, serving as my right-hand man. He has always told me that he has an exceptionally outstanding teacher whom he will revere for a lifetime. Whatever guidance and pointers you bestow upon me today, I swear I will repay double upon Vic." Rasma went silent. He was absolutely furious! Karen, on the other hand, took the initiative to urge him on: "My Lord, can we begin now?" "Wait a moment. Let me beat him half to death first."