Are You Teaching Me How to Do Things?

"A grocery store?" "Just a shop where you can buy plenty of seasonings for cooking fish." "That gate, on the other hand, I can understand. After all, the papers reported that Karen entered the Gate of Samsara as an initiate chosen by our church. Branding the mark of the Gate of Samsara into his heart is both his capability and his great fortune. But that sort of fortune isn't something one casually stumbles upon, especially at his age." "Still, people simply can't be compared. Just like you..." "Just like me and who?" "Just like how you look at the clouds in the sky and see them as so high, so distant, so utterly out of reach—yet birds grew sick of flying through them long ago." Rasma shook his head, pulling the conversation back on track. "The transitions in his earlier assault weren't tight enough. If he had gathered a spell ahead of time to strike swiftly while using that illusion to divert the opponent's attention, the results would have been far better. That assassin wouldn't have had time to mount adequate defenses." Purr retorted at once, "Gathering a spell ahead of time creates energy fluctuations! The enemy would realize in advance that it was an illusion, and then the move might not achieve anything at all." Rasma scolded with a laugh, "How is it that when us old folks fight, we roll up our sleeves and charge right in, but youngsters nowadays drag things out so endlessly?" "Times have changed, my lord." "Changed?" "This is the era of us youngsters now, meow!" Rasma reached out and gently flicked Purr's chin. Purr pulled her head back immediately. "What are you doing?" "I don't know you all that well, it's true, but I remember back when Diss and I first met in our youth. Several fellows with influential backgrounds were bragging about the powerful or rare monster beasts their families kept. Diss said back then that his family only kept a single cat." "Well, the Inmeles family has always had a tradition of keeping cats. I'm the twenty-fifth generation, meow." "You're far older than I am! So what are you doing shouting about 'the era of us youngsters' to me?" Purr raised her soft paw, pressed it to her chest, and replied, "I'm young at heart!" "Heh." Purr leaned in and added, "It's actually quite a surprise. Diss actually mentioned me outside?" The corner of Rasma's mouth twitched slightly. He seemed to want to ask something, but held back. Ever considerate, Purr volunteered, "Diss talked about you at home, too, you know." Rasma swallowed hard, not replying. Purr continued, "Truth is, Diss didn't have many friends in his youth. It was only as he grew older, and after those events took place, that he mellowed out. But before that, he mentioned you, Rasma, quite a few times at home." Rasma's breathing turned ragged, and the quill in his hand began to wobble. "He said you were utterly annoying—every time you broke through to a new boundary, you'd come looking for a fight with him. You made it impossible for him to slack off; he had to advance right along with you." "Heheheh." Rasma chuckled. From those words, he was clearly the pursuer, and one who could almost never catch up, as though Diss only ever advanced his boundary to deal with him. Yet at his age, after having experienced so much, hearing these words didn't make Rasma feel slighted at all. Instead, he felt a moving sense of validation for his youth. Seizing the moment, Purr said, "So, Little Rasma, Diss must have considered you a friend." "I never wanted to be friends with him." "Then once you condense your godhead fragment, will you help the Temple suppress Diss once more?" Hearing that, Rasma glared at Purr, his gaze heavy. "He let you stay here and helped you condense a godhead fragment. You should know full well that was an act of goodwill on his part. Because of that, once your fragment is formed, you will possess the ability to work in tandem with the Temple from both inside and out to undo the arrangements Diss left behind. So, will you do it?" Rasma answered flatly, "It's still too early." Purr nodded. "Right, still too early. But you owe him." Rasma's expression gradually relaxed. He pointed toward the battle ahead. "Which is why I will help him train his grandson." "Are you sure you can manage that?" ... Under this new round of assault, Karen no longer confined himself to purely passive defense. He began taking the initiative to seek opportunities to strike, though his attacks remained rooted in defense, aimed at relieving pressure on his guard. Time and again, Valoti nearly shattered Karen's guard, only to be pushed back once more. The battleground between them steadily shifted down into the canyon below. It was no longer the swift, decisive clash of their initial exchange, but had degenerated into a grueling war of attrition. A barrage of spells was traded between them, yet neither could inflict substantial harm on the other, resulting in a pure contest of consumption. Gradually, Valoti sensed something amiss and disengaged on his own initiative. He had always taken pride in his deep foundation. Even though his current condition was poor, he maintained absolute confidence in that accumulated depth. His original intention had been to grind his opponent down through attrition, but his opponent gave him the impression of being equally confident in his own reserves! If they continued grinding like this, it would genuinely become a matter of whose wine barrel ran dry first—a gamble of probability and sheer luck. That was not what Valoti wanted. Karen took advantage of the pause to soothe the muscle fatigue throughout his body while settling the overly turbulent spiritual energy within. He had defended enough and grown familiar enough with his opponent. Next, he prepared to switch to an offense-oriented style of combat. Just then, Karen heard the man across from him call out, "I have a proposition. Put in a good word for me with that lord, and I will assassinate three people of your choosing." Karen shook his head. "Spare me the nonsense. You are definitely dying today." Valoti replied, "Then don't you want to make this duel a little more interesting? For example, asking that eminent figure not to interfere with our contest for the next while?" Karen shook his head again. "The one who's going to die is you, not me." "Doesn't this strike you as terribly dull? That great figure could step in and interfere at any moment. Even if I defeat you, I'll have virtually no chance of killing you. You're already invincible." Karen countered, "Indeed. What's wrong with that?" "I don't find it fitting for my aesthetic. I simply didn't expect your aesthetic to be so shallow. What a pity." "Didn't you kill those people from the Head Bishop's estate who were weaker than you? And you did it through ambushes. Didn't you kill my family's servant through an ambush as well? They were so much weaker than you, yet you slaughtered them all the same, and even painted a rose for me afterward. Someone like you presumes to preach to me about aesthetics?" Karen brandished the Sword of Diamans, leveling the blade straight at Valoti. "You barged into my home, murdered my people, and abducted my family—and you still expect a chance at survival from me? Let me tell you what my aesthetic is: first, I'll use you as a sparring partner, since I haven't had the chance to fight a proper battle to adjust to my new boundary since becoming an Adjudicator. And in the end, I'll make sure you die before me in the most aggrieved, humiliating way possible." With that, Karen shouted toward Rasma's direction, "High Priest, pay close attention and don't nod off!" When Karen called out the title "High Priest," Valoti closed his eyes. He knew that the moment those words were uttered, the very last sliver of hope for survival he had desperately clung to was snuffed out. "I might not be able to kill you, but if you want to use me as a sparring partner, I can still carve my name into your bones." "I will take your skull back and place it before my subordinate's tombstone to use as an incense burner. It's a memorial custom of my own invention." "Fine, then let us change the format of this sparring match. A pure contest of spells!" Their previous clash had resembled a duel between an assassin and a warrior. Now, Valoti intended to unilaterally change the rules. He wasn't afraid Karen would refuse, because Karen's objective wasn't merely to defeat him, but to use him as a whetstone. Naturally, a pure clash of spells carried far greater danger. It was much harder for outsiders to intervene in time, and it could easily leave permanent trauma. Valoti threw his arms wide. The scimitar in his left hand began to melt, followed immediately by his own body. The surrounding ground once again turned to sand over a vast area. But this time, the meaning was markedly different. Before, the sand had been raw material to be wielded; now, it coalesced into a part of Valoti's body. Valoti's form steadily swelled. A roar like that of a ferocious beast erupted from his chest, and soon, human and beastly faces began surfacing across his torso, arms, and legs. Karen had witnessed a similar scene on Fire Island—the final form manifested by that hunchbacked youth. That hunchbacked youth had visited the God-Burial Grounds, where certain entities had latched onto his soul and consciousness, turning him into a walking vessel before he was sent back. Unlike that hunchback, however, though Valoti's body displayed an extraordinarily mottled amalgamation, it did not appear chaotic. The former had been forced into becoming a vessel, whereas the latter was actively fusing with them. This had to be the path of cultivation practiced by the lineage of the Fallen God. Just as the god they worshipped carried and disposed of the corpses of other deities, they clearly sought to extract something from those corpses. The right side of Valoti's face bulged, transforming into the face of a woman. Facing Karen, the woman opened her single eye. A purple light expanded at terrifying speed, beginning to distort all of Karen's perceptions ahead. In an instant, Karen felt the world around him spin violently, and the sensation only grew progressively worse. ... Purr cried out in shock, "Goddess Renas's Pupil of Lostness! He fused the corpse of a high-ranking priest from the Church of Renas!" Rasma was clearly no longer surprised by Purr's vast breadth of knowledge. He remarked, "The Pupil of Lostness possesses the power to warp perception. It isn't an illusion, nor is it mental force; rather, by affecting the surrounding environment, it generates a vortex of lostness that feeds back onto the target. Refining this sort of pupil is extraordinarily difficult and slow, but once successful, it becomes far harder to defend against than illusions or mental power." "Little Rasma, hurry up and go chop that guy to pieces! We can inspect the corpses piece by piece—we're bound to scavenge plenty of good stuff!" "What, worried?" "No, I'm just afraid the good stuff will get ruined in the fight!" Rasma gave a light cough and spoke. His voice boomed, rattling Purr so much that she couldn't help clapping her paws over her ears. His voice carried directly to the two combatants. "If Karen is smart enough, he should use a large-scale spell to blanket his surroundings right now, recasting it at regular intervals to minimize the influence of the Pupil of Lostness. Only then can he avoid being overly suppressed in the battle to follow." Valoti: "..." Karen was taken aback for a moment, then a faint smile touched his lips. So this former High Priest wasn't such a solemn figure after all. Purr complained irritably, "Little Rasma, are you trying to deafen me?!" "Cough..." Rasma coughed again. "I kicked off my blanket while sleeping last night and caught a slight chill. It's inevitable that my voice sounds a bit muffled and loud." Purr rolled her eyes at him. "He's not even your student yet!" "I'm teaching him how to do things; therefore he is." "Oh, then take a look." ... Karen did not follow Rasma's "quiet reminder" to cast a wide-area spell, because he had an even simpler countermeasure: an eye for an eye. Lowering his head and raising it once more, Karen's eyes brimmed with an intense darkness. The Eyes of the Dark Moon activated. In that instant, everything within Karen's vision returned to normal. The effects of the Pupil of Lostness were not only dispersed, but when Karen's gaze met the woman's single eye, she let out a shriek as blood poured from her eye socket. Karen felt a sharp, agonizing pain in his own eyes as well, but he held out, refusing to let it show. ... "What eyes are those?" "The Eye of Order, obviously! Just not as massive as the one you hung in the sky earlier, meow." "Do you take me for a blind man?" "Dare you claim it isn't?" "It is," Rasma paused, "and yet it isn't." Still, while Rasma could recognize the Gate of Samsara, he had no way of identifying the Eyes of the Dark Moon. The faction of Dark Moon Island was simply far too insignificant—small enough that he wouldn't have spared it a glance back in his day—and the Dark Moon lineage had long since been fractured. Purr pointed out, "Look, he didn't do as you taught." ... Valoti extended a hand from the sand—or rather, a tentacle would be more accurate. It drove straight into the screaming woman's eye, bursting the eyeball apart and providing a devastating amplification to the power of the Pupil of Lostness. Karen's figure shuddered slightly, but he still endured this self-destructive wave of disorientation. Right then, a wolf's head emerged from Valoti's chest. As it appeared, an enormous phantasm of a white wolf materialized behind Valoti. Both "wolves" began to howl in unison: "*Awooooo—*" The wolf's howl carried a profound, weathered sense of bygone ages, imbued with the yearning retrospection of memory. Channeled through the link established by the clash of the Pupil of Lostness, this power surged directly toward Karen. Karen's ears were filled with the wolf's howling, but distinct ripples formed within his consciousness. They were not chaotic, but rather a reversal of memory. Scenes of the past began playing in reverse, while a terrible crisis steadily brewed. ... "The Wolf of Time?" Purr said, bewildered. "That's a monster beast that went extinct long ago!" Rasma noted, "He only needs corpses. Besides, it might well be a preserved carcass left behind by his predecessors." "Oh, true enough." Rasma rubbed his nose lightly and once more switched to his broadcasting tone, his voice carrying over to Karen again: "The Wolf of Time possesses the ability to retrace memories. It can regress your cognition to the past, weakening you on that level, because most people grow from weak to strong over time. There are ways to resist it, depending on what you choose. You can set up a barrier in your consciousness to block its infiltration. You possess the Key to the Rubik's Cube—don't tell me you never studied the Guman family's formations! The simplest method is to seal your own memories first and unseal them after the fight. If you forget they were sealed, I'll just help you unseal them." Valoti: "..." Karen did not erect a barrier, nor did he choose to seal his memories. Instead, he fully opened his mental defenses, allowing the enemy's power to flood in faster, accelerating the reversal of his memories. Soon, Karen saw the scene of himself chasing out from Yorktown, followed by his time at Compasini's burial grounds, his trial within the Gate of Samsara, his arrival in Wien just after stepping off the ship, his first meeting with Eunice... And finally, the moment he opened his eyes and saw his grandfather for the very first time. In an instant, an apparition of Diss, clad in the sacred robes of a Temple Elder, appeared behind Karen. The howl of the Wolf of Time on Valoti's chest instantly turned into a pitiful whimper. Blood dripped continuously from its head, and the phantom of the white wolf behind him shattered the moment Diss's apparition emerged! In every person's memory, there are numerous anchor points representing the various stages of their life. The reason Karen had deliberately allowed the enemy's power free rein was because he knew full well that, no matter what, this wolf could never erase the anchor point of Diss from his memory. After all, Diss had always stood behind him. Rather than an evaluation from Rasma tonight, Karen felt more like he was handing in an assignment to his grandfather after returning home from his travels. ... "A family faith system!" Rasma clenched his fists tight. "He's mad, he's mad, he's completely mad!" Only at this moment did Rasma truly understand what kind of place Karen held in Diss's heart! For this grandson, Diss was truly willing to spare no expense. In fact, he had already done so. "Diss, I'm truly curious—is he really worth doing this for? Is he worth it?" Purr couldn't resist pointing out, "Seems he didn't do as you taught again." ... Equally shocked and driven mad was Valoti. Mutters began spilling from his lips, and soon, every face across his entire body began making the same sound. *Boom!* His melted, swollen body completely burst apart. Countless faces bearing every conceivable expression swarmed toward Karen under the cover of the yellow sand. Powers of various attributes overlapped in chaotic frenzy, forming a terrifying vortex of corruption. Valoti was prepared to discard everything just to drag Karen down to the grave with him! Even if that eminent figure stepped in now, he wouldn't be able to stop it completely in time! Yet, Valoti had still underestimated the might of a former High Priest of the Church of Order. Even faced with such a spectacle, Rasma was not overly concerned, because he held absolute control over everything. He shouted to Karen, "Abandon all thoughts of fighting back! Focus entirely on using Order Purification for defense! Hold out for as long as you can—treat it as a rare opportunity to temper yourself! When you can't hold on any longer, I'll step in to help—" Yet before Rasma could finish his sentence, he saw Karen, surrounded at the very center of the yellow sand and corruption, slowly raise both hands: "Light—Song of Holy Fire!" Beneath the pitch-black night, light shone forth. The absolute nemesis of all negative-attribute powers... a surging, torrential Fire of Light erupted from beneath Karen's feet, forming a terrifying pillar of flame that swept outward, incinerating the surrounding yellow sand and those twisted faces alike! Rasma: "..."