The Land Where Gods Were Lost!

Karen had received confirmation from Kevin that the God of Order, just like him, suffered from the backlash of the rules of Order, and this backlash continuously intensified alongside the rise of one's cultivation realm. Karen already had to use an illusionary projection of the Scythe of War to slice into his own soul to fend off the hunger addiction. It was difficult to imagine just how terrifying the hunger addiction the God of Order faced was at his level. Any normal person would understand that once a problem arose in their body, they had to address it—all the more so for a hunger addiction capable of swaying one's will and reducing them to a "captive" doing its bidding. Karen did not believe the God of Order would completely surrender without putting up a fight. A god possessed dignity. Thus, the God of Order's solution was to sever the hunger addiction from his body, creating Ankara. She truly was the daughter of the God of Order, a severed piece of his own being, and she herself also represented a portion of Order's source origin. As for how an excised hunger addiction could possess "flesh and blood," that was hardly surprising. Anything concerning gods could not be measured by conventional logic; back then, the mental imprint left behind by Raniedal had been able to turn into Lord Dal and treat Karen to ice water. There was even a story recorded in the mythic texts of the Church of Samsara: The God of Samsara bestowed a single strand of his hair upon nine devout female believers. They placed this single hair into a bowl of water, divided it, and drank it. As a result, all nine women became pregnant and gave birth to nine healthy children. Those nine children later all became followers of Samsara, and by their surnames, they grew into families that had been passed down within the church for thousands of years. So even life itself had different interpretations within the divine comprehension of gods. However, had the God of Order succeeded? Karen felt he hadn't. He must have failed, because during his last "peek into the secret," Karen remembered this exchange: "Let me see whose name my darling wrote. Oh. You wrote mine." It was a cycle. Strictly speaking, the God of Order might truly have diminished the hunger addiction's influence on himself for a period through this method. Yet this was not a complete severance... Or rather, after it was excised, it appeared gone at the time, but after a while, it relapsed. When Ankara wrote her father's name, it actually signified that the "hunger addiction" had returned to him through his daughter. There was another important piece of evidence: Raniedal had ascended to godhood at the end of the previous era, and the period when he served as the God of Order's white glove was precisely when the God of Order dominated the divine realm. Meanwhile, Ankara had been cast into the maw of the ferocious beast in the middle of the previous era. That meant if the God of Order had accomplished the severance of his own hunger addiction through how he dealt with Ankara... ...then Raniedal could not possibly have felt terror at sensing the "hunger" emanating from the God of Order when prostrating before him. He had failed. This was the paradise he had built for his daughter, but at the same time, it was his own Lost Paradise. For a moment, a despondent feeling enveloped Karen's heart. If given a choice, he would rather believe that the God of Order had been taken captive by the hunger addiction, while he himself, persistently fighting against it without compromise, could carve out a different path. But the truth was that the God of Order had tried all kinds of methods to put up a fiercely intense resistance, yet he had failed. Then could he himself succeed? Just how much longer was he going to remain locked in a stalemate with this damned hunger addiction? Black ink quickly began covering everything here, and Karen stopped resisting, allowing his consciousness to be thoroughly pushed out. ... "Phew..." Opening his eyes, Karen found that he had been standing in the vegetable garden all along. "Oh goodness, Karen, you're finally awake! You scared this cat half to death just now!" Karen's gaze searched once more for the purple hairpin, only to discover that the hairpin had actually begun to move. Flapping its wings, it took flight—it was actually a purple butterfly. A wave of intense dizziness struck him. With a thud, Karen fell to his knees, bracing against the ground with both hands. Blood began flowing from his eye sockets, nose, ears, and mouth, quickly pooling on the ground, only to be instantly absorbed by the soil. Purr was no longer nervous, knowing Karen had regained his senses, but she still watched him with deep concern. After bleeding for a while, the flow naturally stopped without any treatment. Karen took a deep breath and carefully checked his body. Aside from feeling slightly depleted mentally, there was no other damage or expenditure. Because he had remained in an injured state for too long recently and had even spent quite a while in a wheelchair, Karen was now very worried about accidentally inflicting severe injury on himself again. "I'm fine, I'm fine." Karen opened his palm to condense a pool of water and gave his face a quick wash. Just as he was about to tell Purr what he had "seen," he heard footsteps approaching from behind. This was basic courtesy; the newcomer had intentionally made noise to let him know in advance. Of course, it was also possible that the person had been standing there for a while and only made a noise once he saw Karen recover. "What's wrong?" Mavaglio walked over, asking with concern upon seeing Karen prone on the ground. "Are you feeling unwell somewhere?" "No, I was just wondering if I could take some seeds back to transplant." Karen reached out and gently shook a vine in front of him. "While I don't know much about cultivation and horticulture, I do know that the flora and fauna here would most likely fail to survive if moved outside." "Even if plants degenerate and the fruits aren't as delicious, they'd still be vastly superior to ordinary varieties." Karen stood up, dusting off his hands. "Someone pampered like you wouldn't understand the joy of picking only the most expensive dishes at a high-end banquet." "It seems I've missed out on a lot of joy." "Indeed. By the way, what brings you over?" "We caught the fish, so I came to check on how things were going here." "I almost forgot. Wandering around here just felt so wonderful." "Then I'll head back first to make some preparations. I'm really looking forward to your cooking." "Thank you." "Meow." After Mavaglio left, Karen picked the fruits and vegetables he needed while asking, "When did he arrive?" "No idea. The environment here is unusual, and his status is special too, so my perception of him definitely isn't accurate. But he feels pretty nice, like he wants to make friends with you." "He's very lonely." "Oh, I see. Young Karen, I've noticed you're very good at befriending shut-ins like Philomena. What do they call that, friend of the socially withdrawn?" "Everyone has a need to be acknowledged; Rasma is no different." "Oh, all right. Trust me, sixty years from now, there will also be a group of old folks reminiscing about their youth who will compare you to the light." "Sixty years, huh? Sounds so distant." "Trust me, it'll pass in no time at all, like taking a nap, meow." "Indeed, you're merely an adolescent girl who's taken three naps." "Even though I know you're teasing me, hearing that still makes me happy." Carrying an armful of selected fruits and vegetables, Karen returned. Lister had already set up the pot, lit the fire, and made all the preparations. When it came to food, this old man truly had great "faith." They had caught two fish. One resembled a hairtail, but it was considerably longer and wider, and there were even lingering traces of lightning attribute on its scales—and that was after it had already been processed. The other fish looked like a bighead carp and was quite large. Even after being cleaned, it probably wasn't dead yet; its mouth opened and closed, and fragmented camouflage effects still appeared across parts of its body. Karen enjoyed cooking, but this was truly his first time facing ingredients like these. It wasn't as if he hadn't used point coupons to buy special ingredients like lizard dragon meat before, but those were already processed cuts of meat. Still, fish was fish in the end, so he just followed the standard process. Karen quickly prepped the first fish and sliced it into sections. Lister, watching from the side, asked, "Are you planning to deep-fry it?" Karen shook his head. Deep-frying hairtail was a fairly popular preparation, even in this world. Once deep-fried, the bones became crispy enough that it could serve not only as a main dish but also as a snack for children. However, fried food didn't account for much in Karen's dietary habits. Following his own preferences, he instead made a large platter of braised "hairtail." Lister took a bite and immediately declared, "This needs a staple: rice." "Do we have any?" "We do!" Lister actually managed to rummage out several small buckets of rice from beneath the princess carriage. After scooping out the rice and giving it a quick wash, he tossed it into a flat-bottomed pan, placed it over the charcoal fire, and began cooking it. Once it was almost done, he dropped in a pat of butter, stirred it in, and continued simmering. Karen noticed this but said nothing. Eating it this way felt a bit like lard-mixed rice, except lard-mixed rice usually involved stirring in lard, soy sauce, and scallions after the rice was already cooked. Karen chopped off the head of the large "bighead carp" to boil a pot of fish-head soup. While there was no tofu to pair with it, the daikon radishes from the vegetable garden worked wonderfully. As for the fish body, Karen sliced it into thin fillets and cooked a pot of suancai-style fish. There was an assortment of chilies here, but no pickled mustard greens; there were other pickled vegetables, but their flavor profiles didn't meet Karen's requirements. So Karen used the red sourberries he had picked. Although it was a bit regrettable not having real pickled greens, the acidity was indistinguishable from aged pickled mustard greens. For three people, things didn't need to be too complicated. In a setting like this, culinary technique was secondary; what everyone truly focused on enjoying was the food itself. Karen declined the buttered rice Lister offered him, focusing instead on sipping the soup. Purr had a plate to herself, and Karen served food onto it for her. Like Lister, she ate with great relish. In an atmosphere akin to a picnic, conversation was naturally indispensable. Mavaglio wanted to chat, but after clearing his throat and shifting his posture several times, he still failed to find a good opening. So Karen took the initiative to ask Mavaglio, "I'm curious, what are your usual duties?" Mavaglio replied, "Strictly speaking, I don't have a specific assignment. Usually, wherever I'm needed, that's where I go." Karen responded, "Then you're a brick of Order—to be moved wherever you're needed." Lister chuckled. "Lord Mavaglio doesn't belong to any department, nor would the higher-ups ever place him in charge of one, because his status is too special. It's like our..." Reaching this point, Lister shut his mouth. Karen didn't press on with "like who of ours?" but changed the subject instead: "Can you easily take leave under normal circumstances, then?" "That's no problem at all. My primary task right now is to grow and handle a few minor matters on the side, so taking leave is quite convenient." "Then if you have time, you can visit me in Yorktown. I'll cook you another meal myself." "Would next week work?" "Next week might be a bit tight. As you know, I have a whole series of matters to handle once I get back. After all, something happened to our Head Bishop's family this time." "How about the first of next month?" "Next month my department will probably have a new round of operations. After all, everyone has been idle for so long; it's time to get back to work." "I understand now. You were just being polite." Karen nodded. "Yes. I didn't expect you to take it so seriously." "Hahaha." Mavaglio laughed. "I used to have a home too, but after my grandfather died, that home was gone." Lister ladled a bowl of fish soup for himself and then added some more for Purr. Man and cat exchanged a knowing smile, seeing a "kindred spirit" in each other. Mavaglio let out a long breath and asked, "Do you know? When I attended my grandfather's funeral and my family members all knelt and bowed to me, it was truly agonizing in my heart." "You must have prepared yourself mentally for that long before, haven't you?" Karen didn't find this surprising; even Theisen had to address his grandson as "my Lord" in front of outsiders. "Yes, but even with mental preparation, watching myself get forcibly pushed out made me deeply sorrowful. Originally, I could still hold onto a dream, but now that dream has been popped." "You'll get used to it." "Yes, I'll get used to it." "Mr. Lister," Karen looked at Lister, "are you married?" Lister shook his head. "No, I'm not married, nor do I have children." "Is it forbidden due to your line of work?" "Not because of that. While the temple is isolated from the outside world, it's not inhuman. The Temple Elders can marry if they wish, so why wouldn't we be allowed to? "It's just that I put it off in my youth. By middle age, when I actually began considering it, I found that I simply couldn't find a woman who cooked better than me. "The thought of settling for someone whose cooking wasn't as good as mine, meaning I'd have to cook for her every day, made marriage seem thoroughly unappealing. "Captain Karen, what about you? Are you married?" "I have a fiancée." "Oh, can she cook?" "Not particularly." "Then you truly have my pity." Lister expressed deep sympathy. "The dishes might not be exquisite, but having them personally prepared and placed before me brings a different kind of feeling. Delicious food always requires mood as an accompaniment." "Captain Karen makes a good point. Perhaps I've grown old... Hmm, or perhaps I'm still very young and naive." Mavaglio asked, "Karen, do you plan to continue working in the Whip of Order?" "Yes, I like my current post." "I think once you return, you should be promoted." "Thank you for your blessings." "Not a blessing. After all, you've rendered meritorious service, haven't you?" "Right, haha, I almost forgot." Karen reached up and tapped his forehead lightly. "No, actually, I ought to forget it." Lister joked, "Even if you remember, Captain Karen, by no means speak of it. I certainly don't want to go keep Old White company. Oh, my dear old friend White! The thought of him going on a long journey makes my chest ache so terribly. No, I must drink a few more bowls of fish soup to soothe it." A few pristine white unicorns approached, eager to cozy up to Purr. "Meow!" (So annoying!) Having her enjoyment of the food disturbed, Purr had quite a short temper. Lister smiled. "Unicorns take a liking to pure-hearted women." Purr rolled her eyes at Lister. After living for two hundred years, being called a pure-hearted woman didn't feel like much of a compliment. A flock of winged sprites flew over, picking up the fish bones from the ground and hauling them away. Lister explained, "They're responsible for keeping this place clean, so don't worry. No need to feel burdened; spit out any bones or leftover scraps. They're more than happy to tidy up." This wasn't a lie. For these sprites, certain duties were rituals passed down from their ancestors; they had merely lacked opportunities to put them into practice. Perhaps in their eyes, this was their own "divine miracle." Much like how many sacrificial rituals in the real world seemed foolish—it was often just that their god was gone or deviations had crept into the tradition over time. To their ancestors, the rites had genuinely produced results, whereas for their descendants, only a hollow procedure remained. Wait... Something was wrong. Karen suddenly realized a problem: if the original duty of these sprites' ancestors was to clean up leftover scraps, then in the past, who had eaten meals here? This was a paradise belonging to Ankara, so what they cleared away should have been Ankara's leftover scraps. But what had Ankara eaten in her youth? Karen stood up and said, "Keep eating, you two. I want to take a walk." "I'll come with you." Mavaglio stood up. Purr and Lister showed no inclination to leave. After the two walked some distance, Mavaglio noticed Karen was following a sprite carrying a fish bone, and remarked, "Are you curious where they take the scraps?" "Yeah." Karen nodded. Continuing after it, before long they reached the depths of a dense forest that lay far beyond the castle's traditional boundaries. Karen began to hesitate over whether to keep following. Heavens knew how vast this place actually was. Soon, however, Karen spotted a returning sprite heading back toward their picnic spot to collect more fish bones, meaning the disposal site was just ahead. Karen and Mavaglio pressed on. As they walked, both sensed something amiss—a dark mist materialized before them. "A barrier?" Karen wondered aloud. Mavaglio shook his head. "It feels more like a concealing miasma." "Shall we go in and take a look?" Karen suggested. Mavaglio hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "All right." The two stepped through the formless miasma, and a biting cold wind swept over them. Before them lay a cliff. Two sprites flew forward, tossed the fish bones in their hands over the cliff, and then merrily set off on their return journey. Karen stepped forward until he was nearly at the cliff's edge, then peered downward. The chasm was deep, bottomless, but within the pitch-black abyss, he saw silhouette after silhouette sitting quietly. Karen gathered a fireball in his right hand and hurled it forward. The fireball detonated midair, bursting into fireworks that illuminated the gorge. Resting against one side of the gorge sat skeletal remains, each frame as colossal as a mountain. Karen suddenly felt like laughing. His established preconceptions clashed violently with the deeply subversive sight before him, leaving him in utter disbelief. These towering, majestic skeletons had once all been lofty gods; Yet now, they were quietly gathered in a little girl's snack trash can. Karen finally understood why the Church of Order had sealed away this region, and why they had renamed it in their mythic scriptures. Because what the Church of Order wanted to seal away was not Ankara's childhood playground at all; This place was actually another God-Burial Ground. The Lost Paradise—the Land Where Gods Were Lost!