After taking a bath and changing into a set of black pajamas, Karen walked downstairs and entered the dining room.
A group of maids was setting tableware on the long, prestigious dining table, which was as grand as it was thoroughly impractical.
Karen took his seat at the head of the table. Soon, exquisite dishes were brought out one after another and set before him. There were not many, but each had clearly taken great effort to prepare—and one look was enough to tell they were not to his liking.
Karen had never been satisfied with the skill of the Allen family's ancestral chef, but he had never thought of changing the culinary habits of the manor. After all, he did not live here permanently.
Besides, the food here was much like the ancient castle itself: more often than not, it was meant neither to be delicious nor comfortable, but purely for show.
Although a pair of silver chopsticks lay beside his hand, Karen picked up the knife and fork, focusing his attention on the steak before him. He sliced off a piece, put it into his mouth, chewed, and then sliced another, repeating the motion.
If one could strip away all the painstaking effort the chef had poured into it, the steak might actually have tasted better.
Karen left the red wine untouched. Instead, he took up a spoon and sipped some beet soup, which turned out to be surprisingly good.
Then he returned to the beef.
"How does it taste?" Eunice walked in carrying a fruit platter she had arranged herself. She set it down a little farther away rather than right in front of Karen, knowing her fiancé disliked eating fruit during a meal.
Karen replied, "I've always felt the true purpose of Wien cuisine is to awaken people's longing for the natural flavor of the ingredients."
"Hehe."
Eunice chuckled. She was delighted to hear Karen bash Wien cuisine like that; she could tell that he was trying to drop the polite propriety he habitually maintained in daily life when speaking with her.
"It's getting late. I'll go rest first—tomorrow during the day, I have to host Her Royal Highness the Princess."
She knew her fiancé still had proper business to attend to shortly.
"All right. Good night."
"Good night."
Karen set down his knife and fork and shared a gentle embrace with Eunice as she walked over.
When Eunice left the dining room, she took the maids and footmen who had been standing inside with her, leaving Karen sitting there all by himself in the vast room.
*Mm...*
Having finished the entire steak and feeling full, Karen set down his knife and fork without hesitation, picked up a glass of ice water, and took a sip.
He found it a bit desolate. If only he possessed the ability for sustained maintenance right now, he could summon Count Rekar and Old Saman to join him at the table. They could chat together, and he wouldn't mind having a drink with them then.
For now, though, while he had indeed developed many special abilities for the Chains of Order, the single most critical one still showed no sign of appearing.
As long as he went without mastering it, the "Twelve Knights of Order" he envisioned would never become reality.
Conversely, if he could master it, he would gain... his greatest trump card.
Setting aside the issue of control, in critical moments, he could seek out the remains of deceased powerhouses and strike bargains with them in exchange for a massive, albeit temporary, surge in strength—even at great cost.
Pity. Unlike a promotion, this wasn't something that could be rushed. Even if he wanted to work hard at it, he had no idea where to direct his efforts.
Just then, the dining room doors were pushed open, and Alfred was the first to walk in.
He was glowing with energy, a spark lingering in his eyes as if ready to burst into flame again at any moment.
For Alfred, if all the things in this world that could stimulate the mind and senses were ranked by intensity, the number one spot would unconditionally belong to... proselytizing!
Through that process, Alfred derived immense satisfaction—even his soul ascended into a bliss beyond words.
He had originally planned to hand this task over to Vic in the future, but now, he was genuinely reluctant to part with it.
"Young Master."
Alfred stood respectfully beside Karen.
Karen picked up his napkin, wiped the corners of his mouth, and asked, "How did it go?"
"I believe they have already felt the calling from true Order."
The proselytizing had been... a resounding success.
Having done it once, then twice, Alfred—ever a man of high standards—had constantly been refining the "initiation ceremony."
The depth of the believers' shock was the score he gave to his own performance.
Two more figures entered behind him.
The first one, whose eyes held a clearer light, was surprisingly Leon, whereas Vic, trailing behind him, had unfocused eyes and a dazed expression.
Leon walked up to Karen. With scarcely any hesitation and not the slightest sign of struggle, he dropped to his knees before Karen, placing his hands against his chest:
"Greetings, God of Order."
When he looked up again, the flames of piety were already blazing in Leon's eyes.
He had an exceptionally deep connection with Karen to begin with. Past experience had shown that the closer one's relationship with Karen—or rather, the deeper the bond between them—the simpler the proselytizing process became, and the greater the effect.
It had been true for Muri, Ventura, and Philomena.
Leon was no different. In fact, if asked to pick the closest thing to "family" he had left in this world, he would choose Karen without hesitation.
This was his own choice, as well as the choice his grandfather had given him.
When the person he currently respected most was suddenly revealed to be none other than the great God of Order... combined with his own past experiences, it was nothing short of a miracle!
It was identical to the stories recorded in mythic accounts!
A great deity descends to deliver His believers from calamity, and in return, the believers honor the god who answered their prayers with even deeper devotion.
For the initiation ceremony, Alfred had consulted Karen and made modest adjustments to the material.
Although Karen did not consider himself the "God of Order," and Alfred referred to Karen in his notes as the "Great Being," for the sake of the proselytizing's effectiveness, a certain amount of "simplification" was permissible.
Rather than explaining to new believers why he was not a god, it was better to first guide them into believing he *was* a god, and then develop their understanding further in subsequent study sessions.
This was largely out of consideration for the brain capacity of first-time converts.
Alfred glanced at Vic, who was still in a daze. See? At this stage, they were entirely incapable of processing anything deeper.
Most importantly, what Karen denied was an identity with the God of Order of the past; he never denied that if the path of Order he currently walked reached its terminus smoothly, he would attain the very same height as that predecessor.
Therefore, it was merely a conceptual distinction, not a deception.
"Rise. Under Order, all people are equal; there is no need to kneel here."
In fact, this was a line personally penned by Lord Tyrannus in *Light of Order*, recording a spoken dictate from the God of Order.
Consequently, in the early days of the Church of Order, there had been only ecclesiastical etiquette, with none of the demeaning bows or kneeling. Later on, however, such practices gradually crept in and became mainstream, particularly when encountering superiors of vastly disparate status.
One could only say that over its long development, the Church of Order had caught the contagion of the broader religious sphere.
"Yes, God."
Leon obediently began to rise. Halfway up, he hesitated, then corrected himself: "By the divine will."
Karen frowned slightly. He felt that the next thing Leon needed to do was readjust how he acted around him.
Alfred had already decided to hold a late-night tutoring session for Leon tonight; the boy had to quickly fix his attitude toward the young master.
Once fully upright, Leon asked in high agitation, "Did You witness my family's absolute devotion to You? To receive Your favor, I believe my grandfather, my family... they must..."
If Karen had merely frowned before, he was now genuinely uncomfortable.
Noticing the shift in Karen's mood, Alfred's heart sank instantly. He knew he had overdosed the medicine—so absorbed in his own enjoyment that he hadn't considered whether the convert could handle it.
Leon was not Philomena. That girl had been terrified of Karen from the start; upon learning Karen's "identity," she had simply gone from scared to even more scared. To her, it made little difference—the cup had long since overflowed, so turning the faucet on higher changed nothing, allowing her to appear relatively calm.
Leon was different. He was at the darkest point of his life, making it all too easy for him to swing from one extreme to another.
Most importantly... by the young master's side, Alfred alone was supposed to handle being extreme.
"Leon, I have great respect for Head Bishop Wolflen. He was a devout believer of Order who served admirably, and I am grateful for the help he consistently gave me.
"I witnessed his death and your family's tragedy from start to finish. I can only say that I am deeply sorry; had I possessed the power and the opportunity, I would have stopped it.
"This was neither a test nor an evaluation.
"Nor am I waiting for you at the end of the road. We are walking this path together right now, and I hope that going forward, we will share the same goal and purpose."
Hearing this, Leon's expression turned complicated, and he fumbled for his footing.
"Sit down and have some food."
"Okay..."
Leon took his seat, drew a deep breath, and then broke into a relieved smile, repeating:
"Understood, Minister!"
Alfred let out a quiet breath of relief. The kid had pulled himself together.
Even if the hands holding his knife and fork trembled uncontrollably, and even if the beet soup he scooped with his spoon had spilled down to the last drop before reaching his mouth—while he still pretended to savor its flavor...
At least on the surface, he was holding it together.
Swallowing with lingering fear, Alfred sat down as well. He had truly worried that his first serious professional blunder would strike tonight, because he suddenly realized that this wasn't the only potent dose he had administered—he had prepared a special one specifically for Vic.
Vic was still standing behind them, not stepping forward, just staring dumbly at Karen's back.
Leon continued eating. It looked as though there were a hole in his chin, as food kept tumbling out, yet he did his best to appear natural—like an infant learning to feed himself without help for the very first time.
Karen spoke up. "It seems this gave you quite a shock."
"Actually... it's more excitement." Leon laid down his utensils and pressed his hands firmly against his thighs under the table to force the trembling down. "I want to know... do the others also know your identity, Minister?"
"'The others?'" Karen smiled faintly. "Just Muri, Ventura, and Philomena. Very few know my true identity."
He was ranked this early in the line! That spoke volumes of the minister's trust in him!
Leon sprang to his feet as if a coil spring had been installed under his seat, knocking against the table. Fortunately, the long table in the Allen family's dining room was heavy and solid; otherwise, it might have been flipped right over.
"*Cough...*"
Sitting beside him, Alfred couldn't help coughing to give him a warning.
Realizing his faux pas, and even more mindful that Karen disliked his earlier attitude, Leon hastily tried to sit back down. But he forgot that his chair had slid back when he jumped up; he sat on empty air and crashed straight to the floor.
"*Hiss...*"
Alfred turned his face away and shoveled a large spoonful of Wien bean paste into his mouth.
Leon scrambled back to his feet at once, dragged his chair back, and sat down.
"I never expected I'd be ranked so early. I want to thank..."
Karen pointed at the untouched food in front of himself and said, "This tastes much better than the food we brought ourselves back during that meeting."
Hearing those words, tears welled in Leon's eyes, and he nodded vigorously.
His true acquaintance with Karen dated back to that internal conference between the Church of Pamires and the Church of Order. Because the meeting dragged on for so long, and due to security and confidentiality protocols, the other attendees had been forced to starve the entire day.
On that occasion, he was the one who had invited Karen to sneak into a utility room to grab a bite to eat.
Naturally, their even earlier "encounter"—or rather, crossing of paths—stemmed from his original political betrothed, his so-called fiancée, becoming pregnant with Karen's child.
Leon couldn't help feeling a wave of retroactive dread. Back then, plenty of high-born young men around him, eager to curry favor, had suggested tracking down the rumored Whip of Order auxiliary member to teach him a lesson.
Fortunately, he had refused. Even more fortunately, his grandfather had held no interest in such childish games of retaliation.
Otherwise, he wouldn't merely have missed the chance to sit here today; although he was the sole survivor left of his family now, tonight he saw hope for the family's revival—no, not revival, but an ascent to greatness!
Even now, however, Leon still held fast to his own convictions. He spoke up:
"Minister, I must report that Minister Neo is a remnant of Light!"
Luckily, Neo wasn't present, or he would certainly have spat out his red wine in fury: *Damn it, even after all this, you still haven't forgotten to snitch on me?!*
"All right, I am aware."
Karen opened his palm, and a ball of the Fire of Light flared up.
Leon's eyes widened, yet in his heart, he wasn't truly surprised.
Once you accepted the identity of the person before you, even the most bizarre and unthinkable feat became easy to comprehend. After all, he was God!
"I know about Minister Neo. The relationship between Order and Light is inherently complex. In terms of secular church politics, we are enemies, but in doctrine and history, we were once allies and partners.
"Minister Neo is loyal to Order. There are reasons why Light developed inside him.
"In short, you can trust Minister Neo. He will not... will not do anything detrimental to Order simply because of his Light identity."
Karen had originally wanted to say that he wouldn't do anything detrimental to Order at all, but recalling Neo's daily habit of extortion, kickbacks, and shakedowns, the words truly stuck in his throat.
"I understand, Minister. Once we return, I will apologize to Minister Neo and strive to earn his forgiveness."
"He won't hold it against you."
"I... you... My Lord..."
Finally, Vic came out of his daze.
Like a walking corpse, he slowly walked to Karen's side and stared straight at him.
In the performance hall, what had shaken him to his core were those twelve coffins. As an Order priest, he was certainly no stranger to coffins, nor was he unfamiliar with formations.
Yet two of those twelve coffins had occupants inside, and they had been "awakened" and blessed by Karen. Although they still could not fully revive and act, it was precisely because of those two that the overall aura formed by the twelve coffins was entirely distinct from any other coffins. All of this had been bestowed by Karen's personal uniqueness—and the last one to possess such uniqueness had been the God of Order.
Vic had felt it personally—the gazes of the Twelve Knights of Order reaching through the unseen depths. There could be no mistake; that was... a miracle!
Karen looked at Vic. Vic's recruitment owed a great deal to Rasma.
One could say he was Karen's advance preparation to deal with Rasma's increasingly imminent return.
Undeniably, however, Vic's personal capabilities were also something Karen greatly appreciated. He could entirely replace Alfred in his day-to-day administrative duties, thereby freeing Alfred up.
"I finally understand..." The light in Vic's eyes grew devout.
Alfred pressed his lips together and lowered his head over the dining table.
"Understand what?" Karen asked.
"My teacher."
"Your teacher?"
"My teacher is a true believer of Order."
"Mm, that he is."
"The higher-ups of our church, especially the Temple, have other designs regarding Your identity. You wish to walk Your own path and do not want interference or influence, which is why Your identity must be kept secret from the outside world."
"Yes, that's correct."
"So the reason my teacher disappeared was to protect You—to do what a believer of Order ought to do unconditionally!"
"Hm...?"
"No wonder Teacher would abandon his position as High Priest and vanish! Only the great God of Order could make Teacher do something so irrational—oh no, not irrational! I feel ashamed of my past complaints about him! My teacher is a role model worthy of my lifelong devotion!
"In order to protect You and ensure Your safe departure from that perilous place, he didn't hesitate to let himself be stranded there!
"Yet I believe in his heart, my teacher was utterly joyful!
"He will surely be immeasurably proud that I, too, have become Your follower today!
"I will follow You always, and I believe that one day, my teacher will definitely be rescued!"
Karen shot a look at Alfred. Alfred buried his head even lower.
Then Karen turned back to Vic and said, "Vic, I can make you one promise. In at most two years, and at least a year and a half..."
"You..."
"I will see to it that your teacher returns before us."
...
"*Achoo!*"
After letting out an enormous sneeze, an old priest in the Mink Street church lifted his head and looked toward the third floor of the detached villa in the distance, saying as though deliberately showing off:
"Ha! Diss, my student must be thinking of me! Heh heh!"
Chapter 693