Descent of the Uncanny

Three VIP vehicles carrying the volunteer team of twenty-four arrived at the hillside outside the barrier. Two altars had already been set up here, surrounded by personnel from the Sealed Space Office. As Karen and the others stepped out of the vehicles, the personnel promptly activated the altars. Before long, dark voids opened above both altars. Immediately after, phantom projections of a white cloak and a harp descended slowly, radiating milky-white and blue light respectively. "Minister Karen, please." "Right, let's head up." Karen waved, signaling for everyone to line up and step onto the altars. Standing on an altar for just a brief moment caused a white or blue mark to appear on the palm. This was the blessing of a divine artifact, stored away until needed, when stimulating the mark would release its power. Richard asked in confusion, "Why don't we just borrow the divine artifacts' power and blast our way in?" Neo quipped, "So what, you want to blow up a cesspool for fun?" "Uh, then why not just let us take the divine artifacts inside with us?" Neo laughed. "You truly are a generous gentleman. Having three divine artifacts trapped inside isn't enough—you want to deliver more to them voluntarily?" "Ah, I see." "So during the briefing earlier, you didn't listen to a single word? It's divine corruption, man. Did you think it was a gas leak?" "Uh, I was too worked up earlier and didn't catch much. Anyway, once I'm inside, I'll just follow orders." "You should've said so earlier. You could've had a drink with me." Neo slung an arm around Richard's shoulder and walked up, with Karen following behind them. As he passed the altar with the white cloak, everything went smoothly, and a white mark formed on the palm of his right hand. But when Karen crossed the blue-lit altar beneath the harp, a gentle woman's voice whispered in his ear: "The proposal is currently being revised." Karen paused slightly, looking up at the shape of the harp above, finally connecting it with that artifact spirit. It was the harp of Goddess Mills. Yet just as Karen was about to step down from the altar, the blue light around him suddenly fluctuated, growing noticeably more intense. Personnel from the Sealed Space Office rushed forward to check on the situation, terrified that an accident had occurred during the channeling of the divine artifact—something that wasn't unheard of in the past. Karen, however, calmly stepped down. "Minister Karen, are you alright?" "I'm fine." Karen shook his head, offering them a polite smile. "Thank you for your hard work." "No, compared to what you are doing, Minister Karen, our efforts are nothing." "Minister Karen, we pray for your safe return." "Thank you." After that warm and courteous exchange, Karen led his people toward the entrance of the barrier. Neo leaned in and asked, "What just happened back there?" "Nothing." Neo held out his left palm; there was a mark shaped like a blue water droplet. Karen held out his palm as well. His was shaped like a blue gemstone, utterly outshining the droplet in both luster and size. Neo scowled. "Damn it, this is completely absurd. Even divine artifacts play favorites with their blessings?" "It's probably because of Luoya." In truth, even Karen didn't know that it was actually because of Raniedal. "I feel like I've already been corrupted by my own jealousy. How about I find a chance to get you killed inside?" "Feel free." "Hah." Entering the barrier, what met their eyes was a colossal fortress. Except ordinary fortresses defended against outside threats; this fortress was built for inward defense. At the very center of the fortress complex lay the karst cave, enclosed by giant light rings of three different colors, above which a black Throne of Order hovered in the air. Along the fortress perimeter, eight giants were assisting with the construction—giants like those Karen had seen in the divine temple. These were permanent fortifications. Even if Karen and his team succeeded in their mission, it would only quiet the corruption source enough to prevent extreme scenarios; permanent surveillance and defense would still be mandatory. Barring any unforeseen developments, even a century from now, priests would still be stationed here. Passing into the fortress and reaching the interior, Karen led his subordinates to sit just a line away from the sealing array. Priests promptly brought over food and water. "Rest for half an hour." "Yes, Minister." "Understood, Minister." For now, the team's morale remained fairly good. After all, half the roster was composed of Karen's direct subordinates, and everyone understood this was no treasure hunt with loot to bicker over; their common interest was completing the mission and coming out alive. Chewing on bread, Karen looked at the priests around the outer rim of the cave who were still frozen in grotesque kneeling postures. Very soon, they would be facing them directly. "Alfred." "Yes, Young Master." Alfred immediately leaned closer. "Once we're inside, activate the mind chain to coordinate everyone." "Understood, Young Master." Just then, a middle-aged priest approached Karen on his own initiative. Karen remembered his name—Tolisso, a captain of a Whip of Order squad. "Minister Karen, there's a favor I'd like to ask of you." "Go ahead." "Once the mission is complete, could I bring my daughter to headquarters to meet you? Please rest assured, she just wants to see you in person and won't take up much of your time. She's a great admirer of yours and currently attends church school. Heh heh, she really likes you. After all... you are truly very handsome." A father personally helping his daughter chase her idol. Indeed, Karen's youth, his striking looks, combined with the weight of his past exploits and current position, made him immensely popular among young women in the Church. A prince on a white horse... or rather, since the Church of Order favored black, a prince on a dark horse—Karen fit the mold perfectly. "Of course," Karen replied. "Once the mission is over, I invite you and your daughter to join us for a meal. I'll cook myself." "Really? That would be wonderful! Heh, when my daughter found out her father was going on this mission with you, she was so proud—proud of me. She said she has a great father." "She's right, you are. In the future, you can tell your daughter that you work alongside me." "Thank you, Minister Karen!" Tolisso caught the implication: Karen intended to promote him. After all, he belonged to the Whip of Order system. "We support each other." "Understood, Minister Karen. I'll head back now." Tolisso returned to his spot among the crowd, thoroughly satisfied. The final half-hour of rest passed quickly. Karen clapped his hands and ordered, "Energy recovery potion. Drink one now, and make sure every single one of you is in peak condition." Obediently, everyone took a vial of potion from their packs and drank it. It tasted slightly sweet. Within ten breaths, a sharp rush of mental alertness took hold. Before entering, Karen led the group to face the communication array that had been pointed at them ever since their arrival. Through this array, monitoring personnel and the senior lords of the response team were observing the scene. "Minister Karen, shall we take a group photo?" A priest with a camera around his neck ran over alongside an assistant. "A photo?" Karen waved his hand dismissively. "No need. Let's skip it." Having the survivors stare at a photograph later, counting how many didn't make it out, would simply be too bleak. All preparations complete, Karen noticed several figures standing on the distant fortress watchtower—Delon, Piro, and Heseth. They were the authorities in charge of the array formations. "Your grandson is down there, right?" Piro asked Delon, who stood behind him. "Yes," Delon nodded, thinking to himself: *More than one, in fact.* "He'll come back safe." "I hope they can accomplish the mission," Delon replied. "I believe in that kid Karen. Oh, by the way, they just signaled from over there. Let's open an aperture and send them in. Can you do it alone?" "Yes, no problem." "Good. Let me see the Guman family's Key to the Rubik's Cube in action." Delon opened his palm, and the Rubik's Cube appeared. Karen and the others were already standing upon a teleportation array altar. As a phantom array manifested within, the spatial transit—covering a physical distance of perhaps mere meters—commenced. *Hum!* When the light faded, Karen and his team stood inside the sealing array. Delon let out a sigh and put away the Rubik's Cube. Years ago, he had personally seen his daughter off at the Church Affairs Building to take the teleportation array to the Dinge Region for that fateful mission. Now, he had personally sent two of his grandsons into a corrupted zone. He had thought he would feel anxious and self-reproachful, but in reality, there was none of that—only an empty ache in his chest, like the calm before a tempest. Heseth clenched his fists and lightly struck the battlement. "My poor Marina..." Piro raised an eyebrow, exhaling a puff of smoke at Heseth. "If you're so reluctant to part with your student, why didn't you go yourself?" "I'll go in the second wave if they fail. What, you don't believe me?" "Heh." Piro shook his head. "Going in the second wave is just having no other choice." "You..." Heseth took a deep breath and sighed. "I originally suggested that we old fellows go in, but the others disagreed. If I had insisted on going, I would've had to drag them along, forcing them into it whether they wanted to or not." "Stop looking for excuses. Is it that hard to face your own heart?" Piro tapped his pipe. "Regardless, once this is over, you lot better prepare to stand before the tribunal. After all, this happened in the Yorktown Region. That means if our Minister Karen completes the mission and returns safely, he'll likely be the one prosecuting you personally." "Piro, think what you will, but when it comes to this project, my conscience is clear." "Your conscience may be clear, but the project failed, and someone has to take the blame. This cannot be covered up. The Church needs to take this opportunity to demonstrate to the wider ecclesial community that no similar experiments will be pursued, pacifying the circles of faith. "Oh, right—why do you suppose neither our region's Head Bishop nor the newly appointed Regional Director showed up to watch them enter? "What do you think those two are busy with right now? "Causing such a mess on their turf... in the past, they had no authority to interfere with you, but now, you think they won't seize every second to settle scores? "They might even use this to push through new legislation and bolster the region's voice against higher-level specialized departments, heh." "Piro, are you warning me?" "Hardly. How could I ever be that kind? I'm just here to watch the show. Seeing you disgraced and miserable makes my day. "If Karen's mission fails, the guilt on you bastards will multiply instantly. "If Karen succeeds, you can just wait to become the stepping stones for his new journey. That Head Bishop has already been laying the groundwork for it." "I don't really mind," Heseth laughed softly. "If I end up being his stepping stone, so be it. I hold genuine respect for that young man, and I hope he comes out safely. If he wants to prosecute me then, I will fully cooperate. Don't look down on me, Piro." "Heh." "As for you, you really stepped in dog shit to strike such luck—bagging such a splendid student for free." "Envious?" "Envious." "Once you're stripped of your post, go teach young folks properly. If you can't handle the affairs of gods, at least handle the affairs of mortals first." Heseth fell silent. Delon listened to the entire conversation between the two retired elders. It confirmed his suspicion: as long as Karen completed the mission and returned safely, the road ahead for his grandson would be blown wide open. *Could our Guman family...* *produce a High Priest as well?* The transmission of Karen and his team being teleported into the sealing array was broadcast live through the communication arrays. Other regions and relevant departments within the Holy See were watching as well. As for the Yorktown Region itself, under separate orders from the Head Bishop and the Regional Director, all personnel not on active duty gathered to watch the broadcast. Church auditoriums across the region were packed to capacity. The moment Karen and his team officially entered, the priests rose one after another to offer prayers. Sometimes, influence and cohesion were accumulated in precisely this way. It was impossible to replace every position with your own inner circle; once that circle grew too large, it ceased to be an inner circle anyway. Yet if you could diffuse your influence downward into every crevice, wherever your influence reached was effectively where your authority could take hold. Inside the Head Bishop's office, Bern was reviewing the documents just delivered to his desk—all of them dirt on personnel involved in the God Creation Project. He understood the mechanics of political maneuvering all too well: even if everyone knew you were being punished for the project's failure, it was best if the actual charges had nothing to do with the project itself. Before him, the communication array displayed not the footage of Karen's team entering, but the live feeds of the various auditoriums. Beside him, the attendant gently spread out the documents he had just organized and smiled. "Head Bishop, you truly treat Minister Karen well." "Because the kid is worth it." Bern took a sip of tea. "I originally wanted to bring him into my old line of work. If he went to be a rat, I'm certain he could rise to become the Pope of the church he infiltrated—and without needing generations of relay efforts. "Now, there's no need for that. He has a better path ahead of him. I will do everything in my power to propel him upward. It's high time those higher-ups got a taste of this kid's foul temper as he slaps people across the face with the Code of Order, hahaha." Bern set down his teacup, his gaze narrowing slightly. Once Gaspol's tenure ended, Karen would most likely take over as Regional Director. And when Bern himself retired, the next Head Bishop wouldn't be able to suppress Karen either. Bern would follow Suth's example: before retiring and stepping down, he would dig the pitfalls for his successor. Karen would then become a historic rarity—a Whip of Order Regional Director commanding the supreme authority of a region. The Yorktown Region would become Karen's region. Yet Bern wasn't doing all this merely so Karen could become a local lord of a regional power base. His vision was far grander. What he aimed to build was a foundation where, as Karen climbed even higher in the future, any priest subsequently promoted from or transferred out of the Yorktown Region would bear the stamp of Karen's faction—the so-called Yorktown Faction within the Church of Order. This meant not only a solid rear base, but also an endless stream of talent, granting the power to grow and contend in the factional struggles of the Church's upper echelons. The current High Priest, Norton, had risen through the exact same trajectory; to this day, the Farlan Region was still referred to as the "Norton Region." "Alright, I've finished reviewing the documents. Take them away." "Yes, Head Bishop." Bern opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet containing the roster. "Since you had the audacity to write your name on the very first line, I will help push you even higher." Bern reopened the copy of Light of Order on his desk, flipping straight to the page recounting the God of Order sweeping across the God-Burial Grounds. Across those lines of text, faint fingernail indentations remained visible. That trace of indented lines had moved Bern even more deeply than Karen's name on the first line of the roster. "We all worship the God of Order, but you... you are learning from the God of Order." ... Inside the Whip-Wielder's office, surrounded by icebergs. Foden had just lit a cigar. The communication array before him was displaying the scene from the Yorktown Region's seal. "So it's this kid. Heh." Holding his cigar between his fingers, the Whip-Wielder stepped away from his desk and walked over to the projection. In his hand was a report informing him that over half the volunteers Karen had selected were his direct subordinates. In truth, to the Whip-Wielder, divine corruption was undeniably grave, but from his vantage point, it was hardly an earth-shattering crisis. He was only paying it casual attention. Yet seeing this footage reminded him of the past. It had been a similar emergency back then. They had still been relatively young, and Norton—who was not yet the High Priest at the time—had simply said one line: "When it's our turn to step up, don't even think about hiding in the back." Back then, their group had entered an affiliated church under the guise of an investigative delegation. Rallied by their pontiff, that church was preparing to break away from the control of the Church of Order. From Order's standpoint, this was an open rebellion. Norton led them in a raid on the pontiff's divine temple, capturing the pontiff alive. He severed the man's head, tore out his soul, and, in front of all the priests of that church, roasted the pontiff's soul over the Flames of Order until it was utterly obliterated. It was a colossal gamble. There were countless ways the investigative delegation could have been wiped out that night, yet they chose the hardest and most dangerous method, successfully turning the tide, suppressing the rebellion, and cementing the affiliated church's binding ties to the Church of Order. "This kid... really is quite interesting." Checking the time, Foden left his office. He had another meeting to chair, directing the strategy for the civil war within the Desert Church. After Foden departed, a massive dragon head slowly surfaced from within the icy pool. *Glug... glug... glug...* Dragon breath exhaled, churning up massive bubbles. Lord Augie's eyes were fixed on the footage inside the communication array, the Whip-Wielder's earlier mutterings still echoing in her ears. She knew this meant Karen had officially entered the Whip-Wielder's sights. Once the Whip-Wielder found someone interesting, it wouldn't be long before he wondered just how much time this interesting fellow needed before making waves directly before him. She understood the Whip-Wielder's temperament all too well—just as the Whip-Wielder understood the High Priest's. ... A similar remark echoed at that moment from atop a certain star within the Temple of Order: "Heh. The young man Rasma chose really isn't bad. Toward Order, he is utterly loyal." ... *Achoo!* Richard sneezed loudly. "Why is it so cold in here?" Neo answered, "It's not physical temperature; it's the temperature of your soul. We haven't even entered the karst cave yet, but the chill on the soul has already arrived." Karen commanded, "Everyone, activate the arrays on your clerical robes to maximum! Engage your protective sacred tools immediately! Report any abnormality at once!" "Yes, Minister!" "I like these robes," Richard said, feeling the fabric. "My grandmother would definitely never buy me something this nice." "They truly are exorbitant," Memphis remarked. Richard grinned. "Would you believe me if I said she'd definitely buy them for Karen, though?" Memphis nodded. "I believe it." Meanwhile, Neo pulled at a few loose threads, using brute force to forcibly stimulate the robe's array effects even further. The cost, however, was that the robe would likely be ruined completely after just a day of wear. Richard couldn't help but caution him, "Minister Neo, that's way too wasteful." Hearing this, Neo told him, "Don't worry, you can treasure your burial shroud all you want." Richard: "..." "Philomena, Minister Neo," Alfred commanded through the mind chain. Immediately, Neo and Philomena advanced ahead, entering the area where the kneeling priests were gathered; they were responsible for scouting. Those kneeling priests showed no reaction whatsoever, like corpses. Everything was eerily quiet. But if it was truly peaceful, how could they have ended up in such a state in the first place? "Let's move." The group began to advance, walking among the kneeling priests. Without a ripple of disturbance, Karen and his companions arrived at the entrance of the karst cave. Marina couldn't help saying to Quito beside her, "If only it could stay this quiet the whole time." Quito nodded in agreement. "Yes, I hope so too. If only nothing else goes wrong, and we can just smoothly—" Alfred's voice rang in their minds through the mind chain: "Don't say such things. Words like that invite disaster." The two young experts exchanged bewildered glances, not quite understanding Alfred's meaning. "All personnel, sit down and rest!" Everyone sat down. Ahead of them, waiting by the entrance, Neo and Philomena looked slightly surprised. What surprised everyone even more was that Minister Karen and Alfred were both still standing. Karen looked at Alfred. He had entrusted Alfred with directing movements, but he couldn't fathom why Alfred would suddenly order everyone to sit and rest at this juncture. The others had obeyed reflexively without question; only Karen could challenge it. Alfred looked back at Karen, his face full of shock—because he hadn't issued any order, yet his voice had spoken through the mind chain. "Yes, obeying orders!" Right then, among the group that had sat down, the man at the very back—Tolisso—suddenly burst into laughter. Everyone whipped around to look at him. They saw Tolisso plunge his hand violently into his own chest. With a sickening squelch, his chest caved inward, and he tore out his own bloody, beating heart. Yet he didn't die. Instead, he placed the heart atop his head, spread his arms wide, and waved them frantically up and down in a grotesque, clownish pantomime. A bizarre, unnatural grin plastered across his face, he screamed: "Welcome! Welcome! A warm, warm welcome!"