Have You Ever Heard of a Grocery Store?

Valoti raised his right hand and pressed his palm to his forehead. From beneath his feet, a swirl of yellow sand swept upward around him, steadily filling into his wounds like a master sculptor repairing a damaged statue. Soon, every injury across his body was covered. As he lowered his palm, the slight color mismatches blended into smooth harmony. With that finished, a pit opened in the center of Valoti's brow. *Splat!* A black, leech-like creature dropped out, melting upon impact into a puddle of foul, reeking pus. Immediately following came a second, a third, a fourth... many of them, dropping unceasingly. Only when a foul slick had pooled beneath Valoti's feet did the process finally halt. Yellow sand swiftly filled the cavity between his brows. Next, a soft cough escaped Valoti's throat. His chest rose and fell, and the exhaustion in his eyes receded, giving way to calm. Finally, he reached down with his left hand. The center of his left palm split open, and a black crystal emerged like a burgeoning vine. Once it extended to a certain length, it curved and solidified into a black scimitar. At his right arm, bone began to jut outward, and a gelatinous coating secreted forth, covering the entire limb. Valoti raised the scimitar and tapped it against his right arm. *Clang!* A dull ringing echoed out—a signal to his opponent that he was ready. *** Purr remarked with a sigh, "This guy's fighting will, combat experience, and battle mindset truly are first-rate." Valoti's opening actions were repairing his physical body; his subsequent actions were severing the wounds upon his soul. Without hesitation, he had chosen the method with the most severe backlash—overdrawing his body and mortgaging his soul's future growth—just to maintain reasonably good form for the present moment. It was a very wise decision, but also a grueling one, for when people still saw a glimmer of hope before their eyes, very few could make such an all-or-nothing gamble with their future. Lightly twirling the quill in his hand, Rasma quipped, "Looks like he knows full well I'm not Theisen." Purr rolled her eyes at Rasma. "He's not deaf. I shouted 'Hit him, Rasma!' so many times just now—how could he not have heard?" "Yet who can truly embrace death with composure? Everyone clings to at least a sliver of hope." "Right." Purr nodded. "I don't believe he doesn't know what the name Rasma represents. But he hasn't once addressed you by that title, which proves he's still holding onto a tiny glimmer of wishful thinking." Even among ecclesiastical circles, most people couldn't memorize the names of the top leaders of every church, but the vast majority knew the name of the High Priest of the Church of Order. Because the Church of Order was the greatest religion in the world today. And yet Valoti hadn't cried out in shock to Rasma: *What? You're the former High Priest of the Church of Order?* Purr figured Valoti's heart had to be steeped in bitter misery. In this world, assassins as exceptional as him were rare; at the same time, assassins as unlucky as him were equally rare. He had waltzed onto another church's territory, assassinated the entire family of their top regional leader, and then plunged headlong under the nose of their former supreme leader. When ordinary people got bullied, the junior would run to find their seniors or elders to help settle the score. He had cut out the middleman entirely—the moment he bullied the junior, he marched straight over to report before the elder. In truth, had Valoti simply killed everyone in the funeral parlor, he wouldn't have wound up in this predicament. In the end, it came down to greed. He had insisted on grabbing Purr and fleeing, and precisely because he carried Purr, Karen was able to track him and give chase relentlessly with the Frost Dragon, ultimately forcing him onto this final escape route. He originally had a chance to stay in Wien and play hide-and-seek with the Church of Order's forces, yet he had insisted on running off with a cat. Had he been carrying anything other than this cat, passing through here wouldn't have caused him any trouble at all. Although this was a forbidden zone, entry was barred only to forces of the Church of Order; members of other religions could come and go as usual. Had he just flown overhead, he would have crossed without incident. Diss wouldn't have bothered with him—there was nothing about him worth Diss's notice. Rasma might at most have glanced up, and cut off from external news as he was, he wouldn't have known this fellow was a fugitive wanted by Order; he would probably have kept right on drinking wine and eating canned herring. Perhaps this was fate. Just as Valoti had told himself when he first seized Purr: *I felt a flutter from fate.* "I'm feeling now that I haven't weakened Valoti enough, but it hardly seems proper to call a halt and intervene again. It would lack dignity. To see Karen's true caliber, there has to be an appropriate level of difficulty and risk." Purr said, "I suggest you just beat him into a cripple on the ground, then let Karen deliver the final blow. Everyone would be happy that way." "That would be far too boring." The quill in Rasma's hand began tracing idle circles. "Karen's psychological fortitude isn't bad." While Valoti adjusted to his physical and spiritual injuries, Karen was absorbed in his warm-up. Flames rose from both of his palms, and he began patting and massaging his arms, neck, chest, and knees. This was a literal "warming up." Given Karen's current mastery over power, there was no chance he would singe his clothes or burn himself. He did this primarily to swiftly disperse the chill of the Frost Dragon that had permeated his body during their rush. Naturally, he knew what Valoti was doing across from him, but he had no intention of interfering beforehand. Rasma was right by his side, his grandfather lay nearby, and Valoti had already been weakened in advance by Rasma. All Karen needed to do in the coming duel was ensure he didn't give the other man any opening to kill him instantly. These conditions were as favorable as could be; there was naturally no need to haggle over petty advantages. He could afford to take a broader view. "The way he acts really is reminiscent of Diss back in the day. No matter the situation, he goes about his business as if no one else is around." Purr said to Rasma, "He is Diss's grandson, after all." Rasma shook his head. "There are times when such words apply, and times when they don't. The historical records of the Church are replete with examples of successors to 'great figures' going astray during their growth. Even as Diss's grandson, the path must still be walked by himself. The day Diss fell into slumber, I saw Karen. Compared to who he was back then, he has matured far too much now. Over this period, he must have been through quite a lot." Purr said, "It's much more than 'quite a lot.'" "In truth, with people of such backgrounds, one rarely worries about talent or resources. What requires concern is temperament. Their mindset often becomes their vulnerability—a side effect bred from their comfortable family environment." "No need to worry," Purr said. "On that front, he has zero problems." Purr had witnessed Karen searing his own soul with the Fire of Light to resist the hunger addiction, which had later escalated to striking himself with the Scythe of War. In Purr's eyes, Karen had already ascended to the ranks of a truly ruthless soul. Being ruthless to oneself was the only real ruthlessness. "That is also why I want him to shake off Diss's influence. I hope he can walk a better path in the future." *Shake off Diss's influence?* Purr blinked, stifling a laugh. Even if Diss had acted for his family, at his core he had still chosen compromise with the Church of Order; he was unwilling to truly go to war with the Church. Karen, on the other hand... Purr knew full well that the path Karen intended to tread would inevitably culminate in the total overthrow of the current Church of Order. Compared to Karen, Diss was practically a conservative. One could even say that Diss's influence had kept Karen from acting too extreme. And yet Little Rasma was plotting to strip Diss's influence away from Karen... Purr tilted her head, thinking inwardly: *Whatever makes you happy.* *Whoosh...* Rasma drew a line with his quill. Valoti vanished from where he stood, while Karen remained in place, gripping the Sword of Diamans and staying alert to any shifts in his surroundings. "Heheheh..." Rasma chuckled. As his quill continued tracing circles without pause, he said, "All right, now in my eyes, he is completely different from Diss." Rasma knew intimately how Diss fought in his youth. In his memory, he had never seen Diss adopt such a conservative posture against someone who challenged him. "There's nothing wrong with caution," Purr said, naturally speaking up for her Karen. "I happen to admire my Karen's prudence." Rasma dismissed it breezily. "I genuinely don't want to see him resemble Diss anymore. Only with differences do I see hope." *** Valoti had long disappeared from sight. Rather than projecting his consciousness outward to scan his surroundings, Karen set up his defenses: Three translucent protective barriers rose around the perimeter, forming his first line of defense; In between, nine black spheres hovered around Karen, brimming with the Fire of Order—his second line of defense; The wings of Thousand Phantoms were taut, ready at any second to shield Karen or maneuver him away—his third line of defense; His final line of defense was the Sea God's Armor covering his body. This was precisely why Rasma had laughed aloud—it was almost impossible to imagine Diss strapping on so many turtle shells before a fight. A grain of sand fell upon the outermost protective barrier. Karen's eyes narrowed slightly. The next instant, countless grains of sand materialized across the barrier's surface and permeated it in a flash, shattering the outermost defense completely. A sudden swell of yellow sand swept toward Karen, as though capable of grinding down every sharp edge in existence. *Boom!* The Fire of Order detonated directly. The sand engulfed by flames was stripped of its force in an instant, and the offensive weakened abruptly. Purification was the simplest of spells, yet also the most practical, for it reduced most dazzling, bewildering techniques to something ordinary and plain before it. Right then, however, the earth beneath Karen's feet liquefied into sand, and a colossal maw surged up to swallow him whole. Karen didn't choose to counterattack directly. Spreading its wings behind him, Thousand Phantoms carried him out of the area. Yet Valoti seemed to have anticipated this long before. The heritage of Miliole the Discerner granted him the keenest perception; likely even before the clash commenced, he had already deduced Karen's combat habits. Valoti's figure materialized right where Karen took flight, bringing the black scimitar slashing down upon him. Thousand Phantoms' wings wrapped around Karen at once, blocking the strike. *Bang!* A black steel-like orb was struck down from midair, rolling rapidly across the ground upon impact before unfolding back into wings. Karen himself stumbled back several paces. Normally, this initial phase of probing strikes would have drawn to a temporary close here. But the spot where Karen landed and retreated happened to be the exact location where Valoti had been standing while tending his wounds earlier. Before Valoti had even delivered that slash against the metallic orb, he had already calculated both the angle and the momentum. *Crack...* The foul puddle on the ground and the thin scatter of yellow sand morphed at that moment into a pair of colossal arms, clapping their palms together toward Karen. Karen felt as though the surrounding space had been sealed off entirely. He was like someone caught in thick glue, unable to budge. Ahead of him, Valoti closed in with blinding speed, swinging the scimitar downward once more. Thousand Phantoms folded its wings once more to intercept the blow for Karen, but Valoti's blade veered sharply aside. In its stead, his right arm swung around, smashing directly into the metallic sphere. *Hum!* No dull impact sounded. Instead, the gelatinous coating on Valoti's right arm rapidly melted, splashing across the sphere. Thousand Phantoms immediately let out an agonizing screech in Karen's mind; clearly, the jelly substance possessed a devastating counter-effect against spiritual entities. Next, the sphere was forced open like an unhinging clamshell, exposing Karen protected within. Right then, the black scimitar in Valoti's left palm retracted rapidly—it had grown out of his body in the first place and now appeared to be withdrawn—only to sprout anew from his right palm with unimaginable swiftness. The scimitar cleaved downward toward Karen's face. The Sea God's Armor on Karen expanded, pushing outward, but upon contacting the scimitar, the armor seemed adulterated with sand, its circulation turning sluggish. The water armor, which normally offered formidable defense, was now like an oversized block of gelatin. The scimitar sliced through with ease. The skin on Karen's face could even feel the sharp, cutting sting. Valoti was, after all, an assassin who had dared to wipe out an entire Archbishop's family single-handedly—and chose to do so while the Archbishop himself was home. Even though he had been wounded by Rasma and his strength severely diminished, there was no denying his terrifying prowess on the path of an assassin. Put Philomena in the same circumstances, and she would have had to retreat after breaking through three layers of Karen's defense at best; she could never peel them away layer by layer like Valoti, let alone with strength to spare. Rasma looked up, tightening his grip on the quill. He prepared to intervene, because though Diss's grandson had been exceedingly cautious, it truly looked as if he was about to be slain in a single exchange. Then he really would have botched things beyond repair—allowing Diss's most cherished grandson to die right in "front" of Diss? Unthinkable! Yet just as Rasma was about to break the rules and step in, he suddenly noticed something. His posture froze, and he stayed his hand. Valoti's scimitar cut into Karen's face. Slicing through felt as effortless as cutting through sponge cake. However, Valoti's pupils instantly constricted. A shattering sound emanated from the figure before him. Sight, sound, and even perception twisted into disarray. The figure of Karen before him disintegrated; a Gate of Samsara stood in its place, collapsing under the scimitar's strike. Behind Valoti, another Gate of Samsara emerged. The real Karen appeared, except that the wings of Thousand Phantoms were gone from his back, as was the Sword of Diamans. Only a Rubik's cube was spinning rapidly before his chest. The Key to the Rubik's Cube had long been utilized by the Guman family as an auxiliary tool for array formation masters, but in truth, its deductive power was by no means limited to the operation of formations. At this very moment, for instance, Karen was using it to deduce Valoti's offensive methods and formulate his own counters. One possessed the heritage of Miliole the Discerner, while the other wielded the Key to the Rubik's Cube. What should have been a clash of sheer brute force had been turned into a duel of wits. When an assassin exposed their back to an enemy, it was usually their most perilous moment. Yet Valoti chose neither to turn around nor to resist. Instead, he accelerated to top speed, attempting to surge forward along his heading to open distance from Karen first. At the same time, Karen raised his right hand, pointing straight at Valoti. This was the first time since advancing to Adjudicator that he unleashed his most potent offensive spell while in peak physical condition. "Order—Storm!" *Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!* In an instant, dozens of exceptionally thick Chains of Order erupted from beneath Karen's feet. Twisting together in a furious spin, they forged a terrifying black hurricane that charged directly ahead, grinding down toward Valoti! *Boom!* A continuous roar echoed as earth and dust erupted. A trench nearly a hundred meters long carved through the ground before Karen, and at its furthest end stood a towering spire heaped from sand. *Crumble... crumble... crumble...* As sand sloughed away, the spire collapsed, revealing Valoti standing inside. He wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth with the back of his right hand, an excited smile spreading across his face. Karen reached out. Thousand Phantoms swept back to his side, bearing the Sword of Diamans with it. Gripping the greatsword once more, Karen settled back into a defensive posture. *** "The Key to the Rubik's Cube?" The Guman family's official ranks weren't considered top-tier in Yorktown, but positions within special departments couldn't be judged by rank alone. As the former High Priest, Rasma was naturally intimately familiar with the Church's internal affairs. "Why can Karen use this? Does he carry Guman blood? "Wait... Delon Guman's eldest daughter died in the line of duty during a mission long ago. Dammit!!!" Rasma sprang to his feet in fury, yelling curses at the house behind him: "So you saved her, brought her home, and made her your daughter-in-law!" Delon Guman's eldest daughter had once been groomed as the most outstanding youth of that generation within the Church; the higher-ups had deeply lamented the loss when that mission failed. Who would have thought such a brilliant young talent had been spirited away by the very guy lying inside that house? And after saving her, he had kept it a secret so she could bear him a grandson! "Diss, have you no shame?!" Purr hastily explained on Diss's behalf, "That was free romance! Diss went to save his son that time and just happened to save Karen's mother along the way." "'Along the way'? Then why keep it a secret?" "Well, the Inmerais family was only a minor Inquisitor family, after all. Under normal circumstances, they couldn't possibly dream of marrying into the Guman family. It was like a romance story where two young lovers wanted to break free from family constraints and the worldly gaze, living peacefully and quietly in a small town. Karen's mother made the choice herself; no one forced her. Alas, what can you do? The men of the Inmerais family are all rather handsome, very popular with the ladies." "What kind of nonsense excuse is that?" Rasma demanded. Purr sighed. "You investigated so many things about Diss, including the Felscher family, but it seems you never looked into this one. The failure of that mission wasn't truly an accident." Rasma frowned slightly. "I wasn't the High Priest back then; I didn't have clearance to see the deepest investigation reports." Purr countered, "Even if you had been the High Priest back then, do you really think you would have seen the true investigation report?" Rasma didn't answer Purr's question. In truth, decisively yielding his position to Norton had been a statement of his own stance. He didn't want the title of High Priest—nominally the supreme seat of the Church of Order—to remain a mere puppet in the hands of the Temple. If he couldn't change the status quo, he would step aside for someone who could. However, Rasma was unwilling to debate such matters with a cat here, so he shifted the subject: "Hah. Then Tang Li is Karen's maternal grandmother?" "That's right, meow." "She didn't marry Diss, yet her daughter married Diss's son. How amusing." "Mm-hmm, that's destiny for you, meow." Rasma picked up the quill again and drew a gate on the paper—a gate teeming with the aura of Order, yet something about it made him feel distinctly uneasy. Purr glanced down at it, then quickly looked away without offering an explanation. "Is this a spell of Diss's own creation?" Rasma asked. "Ah, I created it myself," Purr said. "Want to learn it, Little Rasma? Catch me some fish, and I'll teach you." "It can perfectly replicate a person's aura to forge an illusion, mimicking even the aura of their soul down to near perfection. Even I didn't see through it at first glance. The effect looks strikingly like that colossal gate erected upon an island." "I like Squirrel Mandarin Fish, and boiled fish with pickled greens..." "Are you going to tell me that you stole the Gate of Samsara from the Church of Samsara?" "Fried carp with baked thin noodles is quite nice too. I like that as well." "Heh." Rasma shook his head. "A pity Karen didn't seize this chance to inflict heavy damage on him. In the next clash, Karen will still be at a disadvantage. That assassin is very smart; no matter how brilliant a trick is, once it's used before him, it won't work a second time. And as for these miraculous trump-card spells, you lose one with each use. Soon, he'll run out." "Say, Little Rasma... have you ever heard of a grocery store?"