The Prophecy... Manifests!

The desolately somber sound of a horn echoed across the area, seeming rather out of place against the so-called "civilization" constructed by the surrounding metropolis. Yet that "civilization" was so frail before it, truly fragile enough to shatter at a mere breath. It was no exaggeration to say that without the repeated sounding of these horn calls throughout the past, "civilization" would never have existed at all. Karen raised the spyglass again and looked toward the mansion. The Church of Order was plagued by all manner of internal problems, and countless scoundrels were active within it; in fact, Karen himself and Neo beside him were, to some extent, part of that "scum." Yet one thing was undeniable: whenever the Church of Order mobilized openly on a grand scale, what it championed was invariably classical idealism. The Church of the Abyss was harvesting the vital blood of "artists" here to sustain the angel's vitality. Even if selective, it remained a violation of the Code of Order. Such actions deserved severe punishment! An ancient sage from the Church of Principles had once left behind these words: *Never force the Church of Order to make an open choice, for its choice will inevitably cause you great pain.* In the church world, the Church of Order was a deformed monstrosity—one might even call it a malignant tumor. The sole reason it could exist was... it was powerful. Karen suddenly let out a heartfelt sigh. "Neo, tell me, if one day the church circles start to like and accept the existence of the Church of Order, what would that mean?" Having just changed into his clothes and put on his hat, Neo pondered for a moment before saying, "I get the rough idea of what you mean, but in the short term, I can't put my answer into precise words." "When the enemy likes us, it proves we have done wrong." Neo took a deep breath. "Pity your manservant isn't here. Otherwise, he'd definitely whip out his notebook and start scribbling rapidly." With that, Neo turned sideways, sliced open his palm with a fingernail, and inscribed the line onto his skin. He liked the quote very much, and he even added another line: *When you are lost, your enemy will help you choose your direction.* *Mm, once this matter is over, I'll count what I added as Karen's words too, and let that manservant record it for deep study and contemplation, hehe.* Neo had discovered a new amusement: padding famous quotes. Karen also changed clothes, put on a mask, and said to Neo, "All right, time for us to set out." Neo shouted, "All right, let's see who's faster!" "Childish." *Boom!* *Boom!* *Boom!* A series of violent explosions resounded. Though this incident could hardly be called a war, it had already entered the realm of a skirmish. The Whip of Order squads' preferred method of kicking down doors to settle everything was obviously unsuitable here. Every boom brought the collapse of the mansion's perimeter defensive arrays. They had been laid out very covertly, but the York City Region was never short on array masters. Thus, this was destined to be an unfair showdown. Facing an assault by the Church of Order on Order's own turf, the side drafting the battle plan had an overwhelming surplus of resources at hand. With the defensive arrays breached, the interior of the mansion was like a shelled hard-boiled egg—yet it was still scorching hot to hold. The first to appear were three formations of falcon knights, smeared in red pigment. Vic kept his gaze glued to the real-time feeds transmitted by the communication array. Since they were fighting on home ground, the accommodations and equipment in the command room were of top tier. "Um, Mr. Alfred, aren't you worried or nervous?" Vic noticed that Alfred had remained composed the entire time. From the start of the mission until now, Vic hadn't caught even a trace of fluster on his face. Alfred replied, "I am very nervous." "But you..." "I know how to pretend." Vic: "..." Alfred added two more ice cubes to his half-empty cup of coffee and smiled. "You should learn to pretend as well." "I..." "Because you can never predict which moment or which frame will be captured onto a mural, you must require yourself to maintain an elegant posture at almost all times." "An elegant posture?" "Just imagine that people all around are taking photos of you with cameras, and painters are sitting in corners sketching you directly. You need to possess that level of ideological consciousness." "Mr. Alfred, this habit of yours, I really..." "This is not a habit. This is holding oneself to high standards." "Yes, I understand. I will learn from you." Vic drew a deep breath, sat back in his chair, and softened his gaze as he looked at the live feed. Alfred pointed at him and reminded, "You'd better switch seats." "Why?" "Because you're backlit." "Then why didn't you mention it earlier, sir?" "Because my photos are done, and it's time to give you a close-up." "All... right." Vic took a deep breath and changed seats. Alfred stood up, carrying his coffee cup as he strolled slowly behind Vic, placing a hand on Vic's shoulder. He advised, "Feel it properly. You must find that sensation—that whatever you do, you are being accountable to future history." "I understand." Alfred patted Vic's shoulder and asked, "Do you feel it?" "I feel it." "Tell me, what is it?" Vic immediately answered, "The heavy weight of historical responsibility." "You learn quickly." "All thanks to your guidance, sir." Alfred bent down, bringing his head level with Vic, who was seated in the chair: "Do you know what my greatest dream is?" "You have always been pursuing a grand objective, sir." "Be more specific." "Serving your Young Master." "More specific still." "Well..." "Actually, my greatest dream is to do nothing at all and simply stay by the Young Master's side. Because right there is the core position illuminated by history's lens. I wish to be the Young Master's most frequently used backdrop." "So... that's it." "So, your comprehension just now was quite good. Keep pondering it. Perhaps in the future, a very important duty of mine can be entrusted to you." Alfred had always been seeking ways to lighten his workload. What he missed most was the period when he had just accompanied the Young Master to Wien—on the ship, at Allen Manor, and at Allen Apartments. There hadn't been much he needed to handle, and he could spend almost the entire day by the Young Master's side. Yet practical reality forced him to become an all-around fixer. Thus, he didn't mind delegating some of his responsibilities whenever he found suitable people. For instance, he felt Vic possessed real talent in this regard. *Oh, the heavy weight of historical responsibility... Heh, this mystical way of bluffing people has truly been passed down to you, or rather, you truly are a natural.* *In the future, the propaganda and indoctrination work of roping newcomers into the gang can be handed over to you.* Opportunists often proved capable of acting far more radical than genuine idealists, and they possessed an even greater aptitude for demagoguery. Just imagine: Father Rasma's student had not only become head of the Light remnants department and a believer of the Young Master, but was also specifically put in charge of recruiting new members for the Young Master... Father Rasma would surely be deeply moved by Alfred's dedicated nurturing of his student. Above the mansion, the falcon knights began their descent. One formation spread open a massive black net and cast it downward, disrupting the operation of any array below that had not yet been broken. The other two falcon formations began sniping with crossbows at anyone daring to rush out immediately to assess the situation. Most of these people were Abyss priests responsible for coordination and dispatch. Eliminating them first would dismantle the enemy's subsequent resistance to the greatest possible extent. In truth, they possessed far more extensive strike capabilities, but they were not ordered to deploy them in the mission plan. Smashing the anthill to bits was not the primary objective; everything had to proceed in an orderly fashion. After the falcon knights above completed three rounds of culling, rhythmic hoofbeats rumbled from the earth below. Garrison knights clad in armor painted white split into three columns and launched an interlaced charge toward the mansion. Railings, remnant arrays, ordinary mortals, priests—before their undead iron hooves, all were crushed to powder in an instant. Along their advance, even the lawns were not spared; wherever hooves passed, vegetation withered in a flash under the scorch of undead fire. This was a harvest of chilling beauty. The garrison knights were largely reservists or veterans of the Order of Knights; though their strength and gear lagged far behind the regular knight order, placing them in any other religion would easily match the rank of regular ecclesiastical guardian armies. Under such intersecting charges, even if slightly stronger Abyss priests tried to step forward and intervene, they were swiftly crushed by the immense power amplified through the military formation. Individual strength appeared utterly trivial in such a scenario. Soon, the garrison knights charging from three directions crossed paths, having crushed every living thing on the ground and leaving trails of magma and undead flames in their wake. Right at that moment, Luoya's figure materialized above the mansion. The falcon knights collectively cast spells to erect mental defenses around themselves, while the knights below promptly brought out issued mental potions to reinforce their minds. Of course, these measures worked only because Luoya deliberately spared them; they merely needed to counteract the faint stray aftershocks leaking outward. If Luoya were truly to lose control, with her current power, she could easily trigger a miniature "Cataclysm of Desire." For she currently possessed two original bodies, and a third body was calling to her from the underground right before her eyes. Furthermore, something had likely gone wrong with the Church of Order's "containment space"... Karen figured the Church of Order wouldn't be bored enough to train the artifact spirits inside the containment space, though to sustain their existence, the church did provide them with soul-type or attribute-matched crystal vessels. Yet the Church of Order was simply too wealthy, and the divine artifacts housed within the containment space were far too numerous, with the result that these artifact spirits had spontaneously developed an atmosphere akin to a "cultural community." They communicated, they studied, and they progressed. They even formed self-organized interest clubs, like a "Prison Break Society." Luoya had clearly received plenty of instruction in there. Now, she could unleash the power of the divine artifact to a far greater extent. After all, the Source of Sin merely had a high count of copper coins; it was not damaged in the slightest, and it was the crowning masterpiece crafted by the main god Laks before his fall. "O copper coins forged by the main god Laks! By my authority as the artifact spirit, I accept your summons. Now, I command you: unleash your full power... Source of Sin—Bewilderment!" The two copper coins beside Luoya shot down two beams of light, striking roughly the same area. At the same time, the copper coin inside the stone sarcophagus underground released a beam of light to resonate with them. In that instant, the overlapping power of three Laks copper coins unleashed simultaneously under the artifact spirit's command. The Abyss priests surrounding the stone sarcophagus, who had been preparing for teleportation, immediately fell one after another into a whirlpool of greed—and Miliwen was no exception. While the others began shouting "My Lord!", "My Faith!", or "Sea of the Abyss!", Miliwen was crying out, "Heaven, Heaven, Heaven!" There were many high-ranking priests here. Normally, they wouldn't have succumbed all at once, nor were they so feeble—otherwise, those orchestrating the assault outside wouldn't have deliberated and planned for so long. Yet how should one put it? Placing a Laks copper coin right at the core was equivalent to bringing a bomb into their own command center that the enemy could detonate at any moment. Going off with a *boom* and blasting everything apart was only natural. Above, Luoya looked like a playful girl as she crooked her finger toward the ground below: "Good little children, come out and play!" That beckoning cry was like igniting the ultimate bonfire. The Abyss priests below—already disguised in Order robes and garrison armor—felt as though the ultimate form of their desires had appeared before their eyes, and they began dashing upward madly, heedless of everything else. On the surface, the garrison knights who had just reformed their ranks found the spectacle somewhat surreal. They had raised their sabers and lances, while their undead steeds pawed the ground impatiently. One could say they had made ample preparations and accorded full respect to meet genuine foes; yet the enemies poured out like a bunch of fools, sporting greedy grins while completely ignoring them. The knights grew angry, feeling insulted. If this was the level of battle they were facing, it hardly justified the grueling effort of infiltrating the urban district in the dead of night. The command came down, and the charge commenced. The Abyss dignitaries, clad in Order attire and armor, were mercilessly trampled and cut down. Two figures appeared in midair one after the other. It so happened that the garrison knights below were launching their assault while the falcon knights above circled the perimeter, all while Luoya provided deliberate cover... It was a script engineered by their own side, creating a brief window that allowed Karen and Neo to slip in silently in the most brazen manner. Beneath the mansion, two people had not rushed out. One was Kanlei. At the final moment, he regained clarity relying on a sacred artifact on his person. Realizing what was happening, tears immediately streamed down his face, yet he showed no hesitation. The first thing he did upon awakening was break the seal previously placed upon the angel. For this, his body suffered the seal's backlash, trembling violently: "Lord Angel, we can no longer help you return home! Now I grant you freedom. Please accept the guidance of my Lord and find your own way home!" The second person who hadn't rushed out was Miliwen. The lost Holy Child received the protection of her legacy; much like the figures standing in Karen's spiritual world, as a Holy Child, the presence of God Nuoqi existed within her spiritual world as well. It was the power of God Nuoqi that restored Miliwen's lucidity. And the first thing she did upon regaining her senses was condense a streak of yellow lightning in her palm and slam it straight into Kanlei's back. Kanlei never dreamed he would suffer a sneak attack from his own ally at such a moment. Stunned, he turned his head and saw Miliwen looking clear-eyed. He asked in bewilderment: "My Lady, why?" "The one I believe in is my true Lord." Miliwen gave no further explanation. The spell's effect expanded; Kanlei, already severely injured from hastily unraveling the seal, could no longer endure. A gaping hole blew through his chest, and his body collapsed limp to the floor. Promptly, Miliwen turned to the angel sitting up from the stone sarcophagus after the seal's release: "You are an angel from Heaven! In the name of the Inheritor of God Nuoqi, I command you not to head for the Sea of the Abyss, but to accompany me to seek the lost Heaven!" The angel turned its head toward Miliwen. Behind her, the phantom figure of God Nuoqi materialized. She believed this silhouette would suffice to sway the angel's mind. Yet the angel felt no surge of excitement... While Qianmei's status in Karen's soul space ranked on par with Ancestor Allen, it was no stranger to great sights. The emergence of a branch god's phantom might exert immense pressure, but it could hardly suppress and tame Qianmei directly. A voice even welled up in its heart: *That's all?* Besides, going to the Sea of the Abyss meant slaving as a boat tracker, while searching for the lost Heaven was just signing up to be a pack beast! Qianmei, having always harbored an intense craving for freedom, had now grown thoroughly practical. The outside world would only make it a slave or a beast of burden; only by following Karen could it live in lush comfort! It had reproached and reflected on itself countless times over why it had entertained such naive, foolish notions before—it must have eaten sour bean paste and lost its mind! ... Inside the command room, Alfred ordered, "Very well, that's enough. All forces, withdraw quickly. The Whip of Order may enter the field!" Once the order was issued, Vic looked at Alfred and asked, "A ten-minute gap in between—will that be enough?" Alfred nodded. "It should be enough." ... Underground, seeing that the angel showed no reaction, Miliwen urged anxiously, "Hurry, let's go!" "Hi!" With a body tackle, Neo sent Miliwen flying. Fortunately, her reflexes were quick, and she braced against the wall to shed the momentum. "Who are you?" Miliwen failed to recognize Neo. Neo looked at the angel seated in the stone sarcophagus and reached out, intending to touch the copper coin hanging from its chest. Yet Luoya's voice came from the coin: "If you touch it right now, you will lose yourself terribly." Neo immediately retracted his hand. He knew Luoya was right. Currently, his split personalities had substantially materialized; if stimulated by the Source of Sin, driving every fellow in his head into madness, he might truly be done for. Unlike in the past, when he had just awakened his true self and could mess with it freely, he simply wasn't the same person from that earlier time. At that moment, the copper coin floated up on its own and flew toward its true "master" under Luoya's guidance and control. Neo said to the angel in the stone sarcophagus, "He said that if you don't want to come back, he simply won't want you anymore." Qianmei: "!!" In an instant, the angel's body shot out of the stone sarcophagus, flying toward its master as well. *Snap!* Karen, having lost to Neo in that childish race, reached out and caught the copper coin flying up to him from below. It was finally in his hands. Karen placed the coin into a pre-prepared sealing pouch with isolating properties. Just as he stowed it away, he sensed a formidable aura lunging toward him from below. The angel approached at astonishing speed. In the next moment, Qianmei detached from the angel's frame, letting the body plummet freely, while Qianmei itself plunged directly into Karen's body like a wayfarer returning home! *Bang!* The collision was non-physical, yet it caught Karen off guard. Moreover, having been nourished by the angel's remnant soul over the past few days, Qianmei had grown far larger and denser, undergoing a truly peculiar transformation. *Hum—* Driven by immense momentum, Karen's figure rose rapidly, ultimately breaking out of the earth and ascending into midair. By now, the garrison had finished the slaughter and withdrawn, while the Whip of Order squads had not yet entered. Thus, all around the mansion below were magma and undead flames left by the charging undead warhorses, and the ground was strewn with mangled corpses—many of whom still wore Order robes and garrison armor. Karen hovered in midair. Qianmei was eagerly fawning over him, yearning to prove through action that it was willing to serve as his servant forever—no, to become an eternal part of him, to become his... wings! *Whoosh!* Wings unfurled! Yet when they spread this time, they were no longer the mechanical black formed by the sacred artifact's power of the past, but six wings bearing distinct feathers and a sacred aura!