Tell Your Grandfather?

After concluding his meeting with Bern, Karen stepped out of the Head Bishop's office and noticed an unfamiliar young attendant officer standing outside. The young man stepped forward proactively and bowed in salute: "Minister, I am Bishop Delon's attendant. My Bishop knew you had arrived and specifically instructed me to invite you to his office for tea." In truth, Karen's next stop had been the Guman residence anyway. "Very well. Please lead the way." "Please follow me, Minister." After Delon's promotion to Bishop, he had naturally moved to a new office. It had only recently been renovated, though the renovation had clearly not been done for a fresh look under a new master, but purely out of professional utility. The moment Karen walked in, he saw an array of instruments, diagrams, and ancient tomes. Anyone unaware might have assumed this was an experimental workshop under the Array Department. The contrast between a technical specialist and an administrative official was stark; even after taking a Bishop's seat, the old man still resembled a research-and-development team leader. "Ah, Karen." Delon was wearing a specialized monocle, engrossed in studying a thick ancient book, noticing Karen only when he had walked right up to the desk. "My Lord." "I thought you'd be in the Head Bishop's office for quite a while." Delon took off his monocle. "Didn't expect it to wrap up so quickly, haha." "Thank you for last night, My Lord—" "Oh, come on!" Delon waved a dismissive hand. "Come home with me for lunch later. The lady at home gave strict orders." "Of course." "Do you have anything else to attend to?" Delon asked. "I still have two hours before my shift ends; I only took half a day off." "Nothing at all. Please carry on with your work." "Oh, good. Make yourself at home. I didn't actually need to come in today—I have plenty of accrued leave—but that lady at home seemed to guess that you'd visit the Church Affairs Building today. She told me to come in and wait for you, then bring you home for lunch. She even said she'd have a surprise for me. My guess is it's some new dish she came up with." "I've always enjoyed Madame's cooking." "You're just too polite. Well, no need to be polite with us here, though with others you do need to observe etiquette." "You are quite right." "Haha, there's nothing I could teach you on that front anyway; you understand social tact far better than I do. There are tea and refreshments over there, feel free to have some while I double-check this section of my research." "Take your time, My Lord. I can wait." Karen hesitated a moment, then asked, "Would you like me to call Richard back?" Delon nodded at once. "Yes, please. Ever since he became head of your office, he hates coming home. He's always claiming he's 'busy with work.' Is he really that busy?" "His duties are very demanding." "Thank you for looking after him. I know you've been treating him like a younger brother, guiding him along." "No, it's that he has always treated me like an older brother." "Haha." Karen walked over to the telephone and dialed headquarters. After stating his name, the operator swiftly transferred him to Richard's office. "Hello? Did you retrieve the files?" "It's me." "Oh! Karen! What a surprise, receiving a call from you in my own office." "Go home for lunch at noon." "To your place?" "Your house." "Ah, all right. I'll hand off some work and head back." Then, as if realizing that didn't sound quite right, Richard quickly covered: "Ah, well, I don't really have much work anyway." "Bring Philomena along too." "Understood." Inviting Philomena was because she was now essentially grandmother's student, having little to do with Richard. Hanging up the telephone, Karen carried the tea and refreshments over to the sofa and sat down, snacking while flipping through the ancient formation texts laid out before him. At first, he had only intended to skim through them, but as he read, he found them rather fascinating and unconsciously became absorbed. Delon, who had put his monocle back on, glanced over. Strictly speaking, the ancient texts and records in his room were restricted; even personnel from within his own department had to submit formal application reports to borrow them. But Delon assumed Karen was merely bored sitting there, so he paid it no mind. When engrossed in work, time flew by. An hour and a half passed in a flash. Delon looked up, stretched gently, and walked over toward the sofa where Karen was sitting. To his surprise, Karen was still seated there, reading the ancient tome. What astonished him even more was that the bone tiles originally resting on the coffee table had been taken out by Karen and arranged into a model. This meant Karen not only understood the text, but was also actively deducing its progression. Could this be real? Delon closely inspected the ancient tome. It primarily documented formations from the previous epoch that touched upon the realm of the soul—a book of considerable difficulty. To understand it, one required not only a solid foundation in formations, but also deep cultivation in the soul domain. Delon noted the theme of the volume Karen was currently reading, then turned his gaze back to the arranged bone tiles. As he looked, his expression turned solemn. Such a small section naturally couldn't be a complete formation, but what Karen had set out was the core of this formation's central hub. Delon could be certain now: this young man before him had truly comprehended it! This was truly... unbelievable. Karen had saved his son's and daughter-in-law's lives, and had continually guided and protected Richard. It could be said that Karen and the Guman family had long been closely tied together. Earlier on, Old Master Delon had suspected that the young man's proactive approach was an attempt to cling to the Guman family for leverage in his career. But along with this young man's rapid rise and the unfolding of various events, Delon had long discarded such thoughts—if anything, it now felt more like the Guman family was currying favor with Karen. If nothing else, his current Bishop seat had only fallen to him after the previous Bishop overseeing the Array Department was toppled in the last incident; whether that had been targeted action to pave the way for him, Delon himself wasn't even sure. He knew this young man was exceptional—exceptional to an astonishing degree. His own wife doted on Karen as though he were her own grandson, not a whit less than Richard... well, compared to Karen, Richard looked to his wife like someone picked up beside a rubbish bin. Richard also loved recounting Karen's affairs at home: "Karen did this today," "Karen accomplished that again"... Yet this was the first time Delon learned that this young man was also proficient in formations. Truly proficient! If it were merely an amateur hobby—reading a bit, learning a bit, knowing how to gesture a bit, or even laying down some formations to supplement and buff his spells—that would all be understandable. Yet, as the most senior formation master in the region today, Delon keenly perceived that at Karen's current level, even if he resigned from his post in the Whip of Order, he would be fully qualified to take up a senior position right here in the Array Department. Just what kind of monster was this? The old man could only use the word "monster" to describe him, because "genius" no longer felt adequate. The last young man who had elicited such awe from him had been... A young silhouette from the distant past surfaced in Delon's mind. His wife had never hesitated to tell him that that man had been a ray of light before her eyes. Delon had never been angered by his wife's words, even though they described another man, because back then, he too had briefly basked in the brilliance radiating from that peer. No matter how perilous the situation or how thorny the predicament, as long as that man was present, everyone felt completely at peace. At this moment, that young figure named Diss began to overlap with the young man before him. Yet Delon soon shook his head. They were different. Although Karen's actions were often unyielding—several times he had overturned the table to assert his stance and break an impasse—in his interpersonal interactions, he was well-mannered, and his deportment was thoroughly appropriate. Diss, on the other hand, had been different. The description "a ray of light" inherently carried an aloof, untouchable connotation. By comparison, this young man was far more approachable. Delon spoke up: "Your detailed arrangement in this spot is a bit too loose. It could actually be more rigorous." He spoke vaguely and abstractly, but he believed Karen would understand. Karen shook his head and said, "Here, I took into account the unique nature of souls. Every person's soul is one of a kind. A looser arrangement makes it easier to perform fine adjustments when the time comes." "Fine adjustments? That requires the soul's strength to reach a certain threshold... Ah, you arranged it according to your own traits?" "Yes. I believe I can manage and adjust it. But I have a question now: how do I achieve genuine embedding and resonance? Once the formation's strength incorporates soul attributes, its effect is inevitably weakened." "Guiding." "Guiding?" "Formations that act upon the soul don't necessarily have to be constructed and driven using the soul. It's precisely because your own soul is exceptionally strong and you possess absolute confidence that your thinking was boxed in from the start." Karen's eyes flashed with enlightenment. "So that's how it is. I understand. The formation can be laid out externally, so long as its effects cover the soul. In that case, the only problem left to solve is 'guiding.'" "Exactly. And solving the guiding part is very simple, just like a teleportation array. If you feel that laying out the formation directly on the soul weakens its power, you can simply set up a basic channeling array to usher in the external array's effects. That yields the optimal result." "You truly are remarkable, My Lord," Karen praised sincerely. "Thank you for your guidance." With that, Karen rose from the sofa and bowed to Delon. He had not intended to conceal his ability earlier, because he couldn't resist the allure of acquiring real expertise. When an answer could be obtained through the simplest of exchanges, there was no need to hide it and miss out. "You brat, you're something else. Who was your teacher?" "I once had the good fortune to acquire a set of formation notes." "You mean you taught yourself just by reading formation notes?" "Yes." "Haha." Delon let out a dry laugh, wanting to say more, but for a moment didn't know how to begin. He had originally wanted to tell Karen to study formations under him. Yet given their current positions and relationship, he didn't quite know how to phrase it. It felt like staring at an exceptionally rare and exquisite dish: saliva was already pooling uncontrollably, yet because the occasion was far too formal, one was too embarrassed to even pick up the fork and knife. Just then, a knock came at the office door. "Enter," Delon said. The attendant officer entered. "My Lord, your shift has ended. Furthermore, Director Richard has arrived." "Oh? Where is he?" "In the parking lot in front of the Church Affairs Building." "Why didn't he come up?" "Director Richard said he would just wait down there. He didn't want to walk into your office looking like a grandson looking for his grandfather." "Hah, proud as ever." Delon glanced at the clock on the wall and said to Karen, "Let us go." "Very well, My Lord." Karen followed Delon down to the parking lot. Richard stepped out of the car proactively and opened the door. Delon nodded and was about to get in when he saw his grandson turn to Karen: "Minister, after you." Delon: "..." Karen said to Delon, "My Lord, please, after you." Richard remarked, "Why be so formal? It's not like my grandfather doesn't have hands." Delon gave a snort, opened the rear door himself, and climbed in. Richard slipped into the driver's seat. As he started the car, he told Karen, "Leon handed over his shift to me and headed home. He said he was going home to burn point coupons." "Mm. What about Philomena?" "She said she'd go on her own, no need to take my car." Delon chimed in immediately: "She said she'd go alone, and you actually let her? A young woman traveling alone—aren't you worried about her safety?" "Hahaha!" Richard burst out laughing. "Grandfather, have you been drinking? If anything, I might not be safe, but she definitely is." "That's not the same thing." "How isn't it? I don't have the gall to say lines like, 'A young lady like you traveling alone is unsafe, so I must protect you.' I know full well what I'm capable of." Delon's face flushed first, then darkened, and finally turned black. Such shameless lines were things he had said all the time in his youth. Yet... Why had it felt so entirely natural back then? It was just a minor interlude. The car made its way toward home. Several times, Delon wanted to broach something with Karen, only to swallow the words back down. In any case, the image of Karen reading that ancient tome and arranging the bone tiles kept bouncing around his head. Richard glanced in the rearview mirror from time to time at the two passengers in the back, until he finally couldn't help himself: "Grandfather, if you have something to say, just say it." "Ahem..." Delon coughed to cover his awkwardness, then forced himself to speak: "Karen, if you encounter any problems or have any ideas regarding formations in the future, feel free to come find me. We can exchange thoughts and discuss them." Karen smiled and responded immediately, "Very well, My Lord." "Grandfather, save your breath," Richard said. "Karen has a formation master teacher in Dinge Region whose standing is exceptionally high." Richard was currently helping Karen organize intelligence on his network of connections. Alfred had provided him with the list, which included Piro and Liwen. One should know that in the past, whenever a holiday arrived, Alfred would send gifts to these "bargain teachers" in Karen's name. "Didn't you say you had no teacher?" Delon asked in confusion. Karen replied, "Back before going to the Gate of Samsara, I underwent a brief period of training in Dinge Region and received guidance from an instructor." "Oh, I see." Delon felt a little better. Then his grandson began stabbing the knife further: "That instructor even invited Karen to Dinge Region, and Karen turned it down." Richard had seen the correspondence; besides, he was used to hyping up "how amazing Karen is" before his family. To save face, Delon said, "Every formation master has their own specialty. No matter how outstanding a formation master is, it's impossible to master every single aspect." Karen chimed in at once: "Indeed, you are quite right." That grandson twisted the blade again: "What that instructor meant was they could arrange a priority training track for Karen, having everyone in Dinge Region's formation department help him learn formations!" If Richard hadn't been driving, Delon would have loved to kick him out of the car. *Have you lost your mind, running down your own grandfather the entire time?!* Suppressing the urge to beat his grandson black and blue, Delon huffed through his nose. "There are some things others cannot teach. For instance, our Guman family's unique heritage." "You mean the Key to the Rubik's Cube?" Richard honked the horn to urge the car ahead to move. "I made a rubbing of it and gave it to Karen long ago." Delon: "..." "So Grandfather, don't bother yourself over it. Karen isn't interested in formations. I gave him the version of the Key to the Rubik's Cube you teach students, but I've never seen him use it once." "Never used it?" Delon was baffled. That didn't make sense. Karen's formation skill was clearly formidable; even the modified version of the Key to the Rubik's Cube could dramatically improve an array master's setup efficiency. How could he not study it, and how could he never use it? In fact, Karen used the Key to the Rubik's Cube all the time, and very frequently at that; he simply went out of his way to keep it out of Richard's sight. Because Richard wouldn't see a watered-down version—he would see the genuine article that only someone bearing the Guman family bloodline could manifest. "My Lord, I will certainly consult you regarding formations in the future," Karen said. "Allow me to apologize in advance for troubling you." "Nonsense, no need to be so polite! You are welcome anytime. We can make progress together." Looking at Karen, then at his own grandson, Delon suddenly began to understand why his wife was so fond of Karen. They arrived at the Guman residence. The moment Richard parked the car, Karen stepped out first, walked around, and opened the door for Delon. He was worried Richard would open the door for him again and leave his grandfather stranded. Richard was his maternal cousin after all; there was no need to make the kid's already dire domestic survival conditions even worse. Delon felt somewhat flattered by the honor. After stepping out, he looked at his own grandson again and felt that Richard's eyes, eyebrows, and nose were somehow thoroughly asymmetrical. Just then, Madame Tangli, wearing an apron, opened the courtyard gate and stepped out. "Grandmother!" Richard dashed toward her; he hadn't been home much lately. "Oh, you're back!" Madame Tangli opened her arms and trotted over. Then she breezed right past Richard. Richard: "..." Madame Tangli took Karen's hands and began checking him over. "You're not hurt, are you?" Karen answered, "Not at all, Grandmother." Richard smacked his lips. Well, he was used to it by now. Ever since his grandmother first laid eyes on Karen, Richard's status had automatically dropped a tier. Yet Richard never felt jealous. Quite the opposite—he was glad his family treated Karen with such special favor. Because it gave him the illusion that he and Karen truly were "brothers." Yes, he liked that illusion. Seeing Richard bypassed entirely by his wife, Delon's lips curved into a smirk, which he barely stifled. "My dear, the surprise you mentioned today, is it..." "Surprise? Was there one? I don't know, maybe there is, maybe not. Go inside to the kitchen first and watch the soup pot for me." "Oh, alright, my dear." Delon smiled at Karen, then headed into the house first. Richard stood there without moving. Madame Tangli turned her head to look at him. "Your father is waiting for you in the study." Hearing that, Richard shuddered at once and could only drag his feet toward the house. Madame Tangli kept holding Karen's hand and said softly, "I have an idea, and I want to hear your thoughts." "Go ahead, Grandmother." "I want to let Delon know your true identity. After what happened with Richard and Vicolai, he has changed a great deal—especially last night, I could feel it. I didn't tell him before because back then he wasn't worthy of knowing. If we tell him now, I believe he will place protecting his grandson as his top priority. Deep down, he has always harbored deep guilt toward his daughter—your mother. I know this. Karen, I'm not trying to emotionally pressure you; please don't think of it that way. If you don't want to or find it troublesome, then we'll keep hiding it from him. It doesn't matter." Where emotions exist, entanglement is inevitable. Karen, however, felt not the slightest dissatisfaction toward his grandmother. He knew very well that his grandmother and Delon truly loved each other. Though she habitually mocked and bantered with her husband, she wanted him to know he had a grandson—that his daughter had an heir—and she wanted to share that joy with him. Sometimes, lying in bed, Madame Tangli would smile just thinking about Karen, beaming with pride at having such an exceptional grandson, even tossing and turning with delight. Yet looking beside her at her husband, who was either asleep or reading oblivious to it all, she also felt regret. It was something the two of them could have chuckled over together, tossing and turning with joy side by side. Karen was well aware of Delon's transformation. Now that there was no longer any risk of Delon reporting his own family out of loyalty to the Church, the only remaining hurdle was whether Karen was willing to change how he addressed him and call him "Grandfather." Karen was reluctant, mainly because he found it bothersome, and unlike with Madame Tangli, he hadn't developed that familial grandparent-grandchild bond with Delon. Yet this was a request from his grandmother... Karen spoke up: "Grandmother, you can decide. I'll follow your lead." "Really?" "Really." Madame Tangli took a deep breath, the corners of her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. She pulled Karen into an embrace and said with a slight choke in her voice: "Thank you, Karen. Today is his birthday. You are going to give him a real surprise."