The Awakening of the High Priest

At that moment, surrounded by the Light, Jisen was completely dazed. This was no longer some secret frame-up orchestrated from the shadows; it was strapping him onto a pyre called "framing" and roasting him mercilessly. Simple, direct, and brutally crude. On the other end of the communication array, after witnessing this scene, Sus and Bern said nothing at all. They silently deactivated the array on their side. Bern stretched lazily. Davins, seated on the opposite sofa, stood up and asked, "May I leave now?" "Of course, my friend." Davins looked at Bern with a slight smile. "Such an ending really was unexpected." "Did it dazzle you?" "Dazzle? No. Rather, it leaves a jarring sensation." "There was no helping that." "It doesn't seem like your usual style, Bern. This rawhide is far too coarse." "Yet I rather like this style. Rawhide is merely a tool. If one obsesses too much over its smoothness, it loses its meaning as a tool. After all, neither works of art nor luxury goods are things we can afford to indulge in." "As long as you're pleased." "Before you leave, I suppose I should remind you of one more thing." "A piece of advice?" "No, a warning. Davins, I can recognize the value of your existence, and I am even willing to cooperate with you in certain respects, but something like this must not happen again." "Not to be repeated, then?" "I will launch a round of screening and purging. Right after you leave, it begins immediately." "That is your work, and your duty." "You will come to regret one thing, Davins: you reneged on your agreement with Karen." "Oh?" "He wanted to kill those people from the Church of the Desert not merely to avenge Wolflen. He detests betrayal." "Heh." Davins chuckled. "Then I shall await his retaliation." "What was your agreement with him?" "You don't know?" "I've said before, he and I are on 'equal footing.' He is lower in rank than me, yet he is not my subordinate. But I am curious about your specific agreement with him." "You can ask him in person." Bern waved his hand and said, "When you choose to break an agreement, don't blame others when they turn their agreement with you on its head in the future." ... Sus quietly raised his glass and drained the liquor in a single gulp. Then, he snapped his fingers. Soon, the door opened, and several secretaries walked in. "Pass down the order: the Church of the Desert is suspected of assassinating former Head Bishop Wolflen. Arrest every single one of them. If any resist arrest, execute them on the spot." "Yes, Regional Chief!" "Yes, Regional Chief!" Sus set the empty glass back onto the coffee table with a crisp clink. He continued, "Funds are tight, and I intend to slash prison expenses. We can't accommodate many people." The secretaries exchanged glances and immediately replied, "Regional Chief, we understand." With the secretaries' departure, orders were relayed down the chain of command. Soon, Ankara Hotel went into full lockdown. Squads from the Whip of Order began storming the hotel building, and the defensive arrays within shifted and reconfigured inwardly. Sturdy doors were kicked open one after another: "According to the Code of Order..." "According to the Code of Order..." Even as they recited the opening lines and raised their butcher knives, blood splattered in every direction, though the screams were swiftly smothered. In short, the hotel cleaners reporting for work tomorrow would face a dreadfully heavy burden. ... Inside the Wien Royal Palace, Vic let out a long breath and commanded, "Relocate immediately!" The Light remnants quickly cleared traces from the scene, then split into several teams to evacuate the royal palace. They had their own hideouts—places that would never be searched by the Whip of Order, and would even receive its protection. Vic slung Jisen over his shoulder, walked to a side entrance of the palace, and boarded a carriage that had long been waiting there. The carriage set off toward its destination: Ankara Hotel. Inside the carriage, Jisen, whose mind had been blank until now, suddenly glared at Vic and snapped coldly, "Despicable." Vic paid him no mind. Far from arguing back, he took out a pair of nail clippers and began meticulously trimming his nails. Humans shared a habit of trimming or picking at their nails as a way to relieve stress; evidently, Vic was not as calm as he appeared on the surface. Jisen reached out, but his injuries prevented him from touching Vic. Still, his face remained dark as he said, "Do you think you can bring me down with this kind of frame-up?" Vic glanced at him. "You haven't even escaped my grasp, yet you're already raving like a madman." "You don't intend to kill me. You're using me as a rag to gag the mouths above." "Mm." "But you should know, Vic: for anyone else, becoming tainted by the Light remnants is a taboo that would cost them their life or strip away a layer of skin at best. But for my family, this is hardly a catastrophe. A frame-up of this level cannot truly shake my family." "The communication just now has been engraved into memory crystals. The Regional Chief and the Head Bishop will both serve as witnesses to this." Hearing that, Jisen's lips twitched, but he still retorted, "You can't be so naive as to think this will crush my family, can you?" Vic shook his head and answered, "Crushing you is enough. A frame-up like this certainly won't bring down your family, but once you're disgraced, your position as the next-generation successor of your family is almost certainly out of reach." "You..." "Things have already come to this. The orders have been issued, and they should already be making their moves over at the hotel. Regardless, the negotiations and cooperation with the Church of the Desert that your side pushed for are officially bankrupt. "Now, only two paths lie before you. On the first path, you acknowledge that your conscience was awakened, becoming a defender of Order who avenged our region's former Head Bishop. While this means the resources your faction invested in this endeavor have gone down the drain, you will at least gain some prestige and influence, so it won't be a total loss. "The second path is a total loss, where we tear away all pretenses together. I don't know if our side can weather the storm, but we can at least guarantee that you'll be thoroughly disgraced and your future ruined. "Do you know why I was the one standing beside you, appearing in the transmission with you? "Right now, I'm down on my luck. You know very well how the Church treated me after my teacher disappeared; when you came to Yorktown, you didn't even bother calling me out for a meeting. "However, if something truly happens to me, especially involving such a sensitive matter, my upper ceiling of influence is very high. "For instance, we wouldn't need to report you—I would turn myself in; "I would proactively confess to an ambiguous relationship with the Light, and then name you as my accomplice. "It's rather pathetic. My identity really is a net negative, but used cleverly, it's quite handy, heh." "Vic, I think you've truly gone mad!" "Ah, yes, I think so too, *phew, phew*..." Vic blew on his nails. "But I didn't go mad because of this. I was driven mad by my own curiosity." He had joined this circle later than the others. Despite the short time, he had clearly noticed that Philomena, Muri, and Ventura formed a distinct clique unlike the rest, and their growth in strength was far faster than anyone else's—the stratification was unmistakable. And the words Mr. Alfred murmured in his ear from time to time sounded truly like the whispers of a devil. Yet he was simply curious; he wanted to see what it was all about! That secret lay separated from him by only a thin veil now. He had to do something to pierce it, and this incident was his trial. He should have passed the trial, right? Jisen suddenly said in an eerie tone, "Then have you considered that even if this can be glossed over for now, once the dust settles..." "What are you trying to say?" "Heh." Jisen looked at Vic. "Retaliation will come for you, from me or from my family. I won't hide that from you." Vic nodded. When he first learned of this plan, he had told Mr. Alfred: doing this seemingly resolved the prickliest visible problem at hand, but it would bury deep and grave perils for the future. Yet upon hearing his advice, Mr. Alfred had merely waved his hand nonchalantly and replied: "Anything beyond two years is not something we need to consider." Then, Mr. Alfred had added: "Oh, not even two years—a few months less than that." Vic was intensely curious about why that specific timeframe had been set. What he did not know was that it was the deadline when his teacher, Rasma, would condense a godhead fragment, and the deadlock on Mink Street would finally be broken. ... "Are you going to continue your vacation?" Karen asked. "No, I'm heading back to work." Neo shrugged. "My business happens to be taken care of." "So fast?" "My efficiency has always been high. I'm not like you, dragging things out for so long just to find a single copper coin." "There are always matters right in front of me." "All right, anything else lined up?" "Once this matter is wrapped up, I need to spend some time attending to the region's affairs." "Indeed. The influence we fought for must be firmly grasped in hand." "After that, you'll accompany me to retrieve the coin." "Why drag me along? If it were an unowned divine artifact, you wouldn't even need to ask—I'd be begging you to take me along to try my luck. Who knows, maybe the divine artifact would recognize me as its master. "But with this Laks copper coin... she would only run up to you excitedly and call you Big Brother Karen. It's not like she'd tug on my sleeve and call me Grandpa Neo." "Heh." "Still, what surprises me is how quickly the strength of your people has grown. Philomena, Ventura, and Muri seem to be constantly matching your rhythm, whether actively or passively. The others are clearly falling behind. "So, does this count as your influence? "As long as one closely follows our Young Master Karen, one is bound to receive a blessing, haha." "The one keeping the closest rhythm doesn't seem to be them." "What do you mean by that?" "You know very well in your heart." "You truly are shameless. Do you have any idea how much effort I put in to reach today? How can you have the nerve to claim all the credit for yourself?" "You started it." "Fine, fine. That cat of yours has become formidable too after getting that skeletal puppet. Especially when it comes to casting spells—I was genuinely shocked. That is a true master." "Kevin was assisting from within, and... it burns through point coupons." Feeding magic crystals into it one after another—if one were callous enough to calculate it, the cost of a single battle could pay bereavement pensions for how many people? "I remember it's waiting for an operation. Kevin told me." "Mm. Once I retrieve the copper coin, I'll head to the research institute to prepare for the procedure. The surgical plan has long been ready." "Why have you kept dragging your feet on it?" "First, back then I needed to stay on guard against your Lord Kevin; second, back then my status was insufficient, so I could only rely on personal connections. Now, our medical resources are vastly superior." "You make it sound like taking a pet in to be neutered." Karen gave Neo a flat look. Neo raised his hand and continued, "Though it's the exact opposite of neutering. Still, I'm quite curious—after being used to treating it as a cat, won't you feel awkward when she can turn into a human? Even if it's only briefly." "No." "Oh, true. Even briefly turning into a human is plenty of time." Hearing that, Karen frowned slightly. Neo draped an arm around Karen's shoulders. "Relax, don't feel any psychological burden. What's a gap of several generations with your fiancée anyway? A rather exotic mental thrill, isn't it?" "I've heard that bloodthirsty aberrant demons live much longer than ordinary humans, and their youthful looks can be preserved for a very long time." "Yes, of course." "Miss Yilisha's mother must look very much like Miss Yilisha, wouldn't you say? She should still be quite young right now." "Oh, what an adorable little beast you are." "You were a beast first." ... Holy Court, Grand Administrative Hall. Ever since the new High Priest took office, this place had seen a ceaseless stream of visitors. When it came to work, the High Priest was a workaholic beyond ordinary comprehension. In recent days, however, the grand hall had grown unusually quiet. Official business that was meant to be reported here had been streamlined and diverted to the desks of the three Cardinal Bishops. The High Priest of the Church of Order had announced a period of secluded meditation to comprehend a "divine oracle" that had supposedly manifested. Ordinarily, such an abrupt halt to official work would easily arouse outside suspicion, especially when others had perceived no signs of a divine oracle descending; yet the truth was that everyone found it entirely natural. For one, while the High Priest was no longer young, he was far from decrepit; for another, the "divine oracle" he was contemplating was likely meant specifically for him. His status was inherently extraordinary. Those standing at the pinnacle of power often had a habit of elevating everything to the grandest heights. The High Priest had just concluded his struggle against numerous factions within the Church, establishing a dominance centered upon himself, such that even the Temple had to avoid crossing him during his tenure. Contemplating a "divine oracle" at such a juncture was akin to a secular monarch adding religious sanctity to his rule after finishing a political reshuffle. Thus, in the eyes of many high-ranking figures, faction leaders, and the Temple, the High Priest was merely further proclaiming his identity as the "Successor of Tyrannus." Yet the true reason was... the High Priest's body had genuinely run into trouble. Only his core inner circle could sense it, yet every one of them kept this realization strictly to themselves. ... Beneath the Grand Administrative Hall, amid the dark tides, an enormous sea turtle slowly emerged. It was Basse, the descendant of the founding sacred beast of the Church of Order. Upon its head lay a figure—none other than High Priest Norton, whom the outside world believed to be in seclusion contemplating a divine oracle. Norton slowly opened his eyes and sat up. "You are far too extreme," Basse spoke. "Your choice has shocked even me." Norton said, "If given the choice, would you accept the memories of several generations of your ancestors?" "I had no choice." "Yet I do." "In truth, you also..." "You want to say that I am merely struggling in vain." "I would not dare." "Yet who among us is not struggling? For an ordinary person, their approximate time of death can be calculated from the day they are born. In fact, all manner of unforeseen accidents only bring that time forward. Even so, should one simply stop living? Can one not strive to make their life richer and more meaningful?" "I can sense that after these past few days, you are much more relaxed." "Why?" "In the past, you would not speak so much to me; you would pull out a leather whip to lash me, just as Lord Tyrannus whipped my ancestor back then." "Is that so?" "Yes. My memory does not err." "I should leave." Norton stood up. "How should I dispose of your remnants?" "Seal them away." "Yes, I obey your decree." Basse opened its massive maw. Soon, corpse after corpse floated out of its mouth—all of them "Norton." High Priest Norton looked down calmly at the "selves" continually drifting out. These were all the ones he had "slain" over these past days. Then, Norton's figure vanished from the depths, returning to the surface above. Basse slowly sank down, its helpless voice echoing into the surroundings: "So you had planned this all along... treating me as your... morgue." ... With the conclusion of the High Priest's seclusion, the Grand Administrative Hall resumed its operations. Affairs within the Church flowed toward this center once more, as though a clogged canal had finally been dredged clear. Not only was there present business, but important matters from the recent period were also summarized anew. Upon reviewing a certain document, the High Priest's gaze narrowed slightly. The next instant, another him appeared inside a separate office. Standing there, he watched "himself" in the center of the hall still swiftly processing official duties, unable to help closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. "*Sigh*... Has a second me appeared again so soon?" Any method of suppression could only serve to delay the process; none could resolve it at its root. Soon, all other emotions faded from Norton's eyes. With a calm gaze, he looked down at the two documents in his hand: one was the investigation report on the assassination of former Head Bishop Wolflen, and the other was the proposal for making the Church of the Desert a vassal. A faint smile appeared at the corners of Norton's lips, though it carried not the slightest warmth: "Aren't they utter beasts?"