The Return of the God of Order!

The boundless, vast expanse of reeking black seawater had seemed capable of shrouding everything, bringing about the world's most terrifying dissolution. Yet before this towering, solemn statue, it was reduced to nothing more than a shallow, pathetic puddle of filth. This was the gulf between gods. One was an artificial deity that had fallen almost instantly after coming into being, like a stillborn child who had never opened its eyes to see the world. The other was the hegemon of the divine realm who had suppressed the close of the previous era, leaving behind countless glorious feats. The heritage she left behind stood today as the world's preeminent faith, and within the mythologies of all other churches was an era chronicling her deeds. Looking back across the ages, she was an imposing figure that could not be eclipsed. In truth, this was neither a duel between gods nor a clash between Karen and Mr. Luther. It was a confrontation between the hunger addiction of Order and divine pollution—a collision belonging to the dark sides of divinity. Karen had been enduring with immense difficulty. This contaminated domain was already a place where the hunger addiction was prone to break loose, and he had even deliberately detonated it earlier to rescue Neo. One could say that when Karen stepped in front of Mr. Luther, more than half of the calm he displayed was the chilling indifference brought on by an onset of the hunger addiction. And when Mr. Luther entered carrying that dense pollution, all of Karen's methods and suppression were rendered utterly feeble, losing all meaning in an instant. The outcome at this moment could not be considered a victory for Karen. It could only be said that... the hunger addiction of Order had won. Divine pollution was dreadful. Yet a single cup of water, while easily capable of drowning an ant, posed no real threat to a grown adult. Of course, when that adult stood up, it often meant someone else was going to lie down forever. This was the outcome Karen had fought and struggled against all along, yet it also felt like an inescapable destiny. A look of melancholy appeared on Mr. Luther's face. He suddenly understood many things he had never been able to grasp before, yet at the same time, was once more filled with confusion about many things he thought he had understood. He lowered his head and looked at the red-necked boy shivering on the ground. So even without a leash, a dog could still be made to cower and submit in utter humility. Mr. Luther wanted to laugh. He was no longer afraid, because he was free. Now, he was like a tourist visiting ancient historical ruins with reverence. His body had dispersed to the point where only his head remained, the rest almost completely translucent. In this world, there were a rare few individuals whom utilitarian measures of success and failure were unsuited to judge. It was precisely their existence that gave civilization its warmth. "Told you not to disobey me, told you not to disobey me... happy now?" It was a final mockery, and also a final comfort. Mr. Luther turned around and lowered his head. He held no speech manuscript—to be precise, he no longer had hands. Yet at this moment, it was as if he stood once more upon the speaker's podium, saying in his impassioned voice: "My friends, I have a dream..." The dream dispersed. Left behind were the purple-haired boy trembling incessantly on the ground, and that towering, solemn presence one dared not look upon directly. *Crack... crack...* What should have been faint scraping sounded like booming thunder in this moment. The palm slowly curled, then gradually lifted. Finally, the palm rose above the head and began to tilt downward. You could not gaze directly at the face beneath, but in your mind, you could picture a mouth gradually parting. Your body was slowly tilting as an incline formed. All that remained was sliding, sliding, sliding... sliding toward a final resting place. You could even sense in advance that during the fall, your body would spontaneously fracture, cracks spreading continuously until you shattered into pieces. And your end would very likely awaken her eyes, revealing the truest... Light of Order. "Uwah... wah... wah..." The red-necked boy began to sob, but its body had already started sliding down ahead of him. As it hung suspended in midair, the surrounding black seawater surged out, gathering onto its body before flowing downward. For it and the seawater below were one. Devouring it meant devouring all the divine pollution in the surroundings. Karen, meanwhile, remained firmly on hands and knees, prostrated upon the palm. *Haaah... haaah... haaah...* Karen had lost the capacity for thought. All he could do was listen to each of his own breaths. And yet, it was entirely possible that even this so-called "sound" was merely a peculiar comfort born from the tiny shred of self-awareness remaining in him. Your life no longer has anything to do with you. Your task has been successfully accomplished. You are dignified, you are solemn, and you are a great existence—yet the one who is dignified is not you, the one who is solemn is not you, and the great existence... is even less you. Among the reasons Karen repeatedly rejected others' suspicions that he was the God of Order, there was one obstacle he could never bypass: what was the God of Order in the eyes of others represented, to him, the absolute negation of the self. Everyone else could kneel at the feet of the God of Order, chanting ancient battle hymns. For Karen, however, holding the line was not born of strength, but because he simply did not possess the option to kneel. The moment the so-called true Order arose would be the very instant Karen's self-existence was wiped out completely. *Haaah... haaah... haaah...* The breathing continued. All at once, Karen seemed to perceive a black mirror before him, above his head. On the other side of that mirror, another person was mirrored in the exact same posture. Between them, it felt as though they could hear each other's breath. *Who are you?* *Who... are you?* It was like reading a book. When the author penned those words, the thoughts and feelings of future readers had already surfaced in his mind, and he had smiled. A reader, whether one day, one year, a hundred years, or even a millennium later, might read those lines. Though the author had long turned to ash, a resonance could still be achieved, and the reader would smile as well. Sometimes, a special emotional resonance could pierce through the barriers of time and space, allowing two souls to bear witness to one another. Karen desperately wanted to speak, but no words would come. Originally, he had been a rider astride a wild stallion. Though nearly thrown off time and again, he had managed to keep control. But now, his body had been trampled into minced flesh, mashed together with the forage. He wanted so badly to look up, to see if the one on the other side of the mirror was just as pitiable and wretched as himself. Yet Karen could not do it. Still, being unable to do so had its consolations. What if the person in the mirror was standing, a relaxed, easy smile gracing his face? At least this way, he wouldn't have to see that contemptuous gaze. What Karen did not know, however, was just what kind of massive storm this tiny resonance—existing only within the remnants of his personal spiritual consciousness—was stirring up in the outside world! In this world, the traces of gods had vanished for far too long. And she was the final swan song of the divine realm before the end of the previous era! *Rumble—! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr! Hoorrrr!* This was originally a world of absolute stillness, largely cut off from the outside. A thoroughfare flanked by ancient war banners stretched from the ground all the way to the horizon, connecting to a colossal gate of white bone suspended in the sky. That was the only channel of communication between this world and the outside. The colossal bone gate was formed from twelve massive skeletons. Despite the erosion of endless years, they retained their original smooth luster, and deep within the bone, bizarre hues could be seen flowing. Contained within was the most terrifying pollution in the mortal realm. Casting out a single skeleton—no, even a single bone—would trigger a horrific catastrophe. Yet here, the pollution was thoroughly suppressed, reduced to decorative lanterns upon the bone gate, not daring to leak out by a single thread. For beneath it stood an immense black pyramid. Its height and breadth rendered all units of measurement utterly meaningless. It was infinitely tall, and infinitely vast. It was divided into tiers, but each tier stretched endlessly outward. You could never reach the end, because with the passing of time in the outside world, people were continually laid to rest here. Step by step you ascended, yet you could never reach the summit, because there would always be individuals of even higher standing who would enter this place in future ages to slumber eternally. Rows upon rows of solemn black coffins lay quietly here, blanketed by the passage of time. This was the First Knights of Order. In history, the other Knights of Order had all achieved remarkable feats—whether hunting evil gods in the previous era or enforcing the Code of Order in this one. Only the First Knights of Order had never deployed in full organizational force. Yet it was universally acknowledged as the most mysterious and powerful force among the twelve Knights of Order, across the entire Church of Order... and indeed, throughout the whole ecclesiastical world. Because time was its finest nourishment. It would not fade or perish in the flow of years like other powers; instead, it steadily accumulated, layer upon layer, bit by bit. The aged never retired, and newcomers joined year after year. Perhaps not even the high-ranking figures within the Church of Order knew the true depth of the foundation accumulated here. The leadership knew only one thing: after death, they too would become part of it. A thousand years ago, during the fiercest phase of confrontation between the Church of Order and the Church of Light, the Church of Light had never dared consider using force to wage open war against Order. Even as they watched their own strength decline, watched Order grow stronger, and watched their edifice collapse, they had never dared sound the horn of ecclesiastical war—because even they could not measure the fathomless depth of the First Knights. Now, the divine artifact hanging atop the black pyramid—the Reaper's Horn—let out a ringing blast, shattering the silence maintained since the start of this era. Across the vast frozen earth around it, spires of ice thrust through the surface. What was revealed was merely a tiny fraction of the very top of the ice layers. Here lay an untold number of such colossal frozen vaults, sealing away ancient war implements, spell reagents, array scrolls, and more... Few outside knew that the encampment of the First Knights of Order was also the greatest armory of the Church of Order. Many weapons that could no longer be forged in the modern day had their original versions preserved here. For the venerable forebears of the Church of Order knew well that the First Knights would never be awakened in full formation unless circumstances were dire in the extreme. And if the time truly came to awaken them, they had to be fully equipped the moment they opened their eyes. Because once they "awoke" to fight for Order, they generally had only three days. From the moment they sat up from their coffins, they had to rush to the battlefield defending Order at maximum speed to burn the final embers of their lives. Groups of Order priests emerged from the bone gate. Their robes were predominantly black, but the patterns across their chests were intermingled with dark red. The encampment of the First Knights possessed its own dedicated system. These priests were "Awakeners." Having detected the abnormal disturbance here, they immediately gathered to investigate. Just then, a colossal star flew out from the bone gate. Standing upon the temple square atop the star were five temple elders clad in gold-threaded robes. Beside the five elders were several other old men—the heads of the First Knights' Administration Bureau. The greatest difference between the Church of Order and other churches was that for a very long time, the Holy See maintained a corresponding distance from the Temple. In many specialized departments, among the high-ranking figures, temple elders held nominal supervisory titles without exercising direct worldly power. Although the Temple's influence over the Holy See had been immense during Rasma's era and for a long time prior, it was undeniable that compared to the power wielded by temple elders in other faiths, the elders of the Temple of Order had the cleanest hands. Hence, when the current High Priest took power and vigorously severed the Temple's influence over the Holy See, there were plenty of voices within the church crying injustice on the Temple's behalf. "The Reaper's Horn has sounded. What does this mean?" Elder Dexios asked. Beside him, Zhongtasen, the director of the administration bureau, produced a massive tome two meters thick. A levitation array was inscribed on the lower cover, sparing him the trouble of bearing its weight. Zhongtasen held a magnifying glass, searching through the records. This book was the administrative log of the First Knights. Dexios frowned slightly, displeased. "Is this how you do your job?" Zhongtasen gave a sheepish smile and replied, "My lord, I'm just here to clean up. I'm not the commander or deputy commander." The commander, the deputy commanders, and even the first- and second-tier field commanders of every combat formation were not living men. They lay inside as well. Legend had it that the commander of the First Knights was himself one of the twelve Knights of Order who had followed the God of Order, and among the deputy commanders were several commanders of the inaugural Knights of Order. Thus, the moment the Church of Order truly mobilized this place in full formation, the First Knights could instantly turn into a fully armed, impeccably commanded engine of war... and they didn't even need to eat. "Found it." Zhongtasen let out a long breath and licked his lips. "'Our Lord, the great God of Order, judged the Mountain God to be an evil god. The Seventh and Eighth Knights campaigned under divine decree but met with setbacks. Our Lord rebuked: [Must I awaken the First Knights to battle?] "'Sensing Our Lord's summons, the Reaper's Horn was blown, representing the dead believers' yearning to march forth for Our Lord to defend Order.' "This was the last record of the Reaper's Horn sounding. However, the Seventh and Eighth Knights launched a second offensive later and hunted down the Mountain God, so the First Knights did not deploy that time." Dexios looked at Zhongtasen and asked, "So you mean to say... the Reaper's Horn—no, the First Knights—has sensed a divine decree?" As soon as those words left his mouth, everyone present, including Dexios himself, froze. Sensing a divine decree... coupled with the prophecy of the gods' return, did that not mean the First Knights had sensed the return of the God of Order? Right at that moment, The coffin atop the black pyramid let out a faint tremor. Immediately following, from the top tier down, layer upon layer of coffins resonated with the same rhythmic trembling. Soon, the entire black pyramid began to shake. The resulting rumble carried a despairing pressure. Even standing upon the star, the temple elders felt a creeping terror that they could be crushed to powder at any second. One had to remember... lying within the First Knights were many beings who had once held rank equal to their own. *Hum!* *Hum!* *Hum!* It was like a colossal army marching in unison. Their formation was unstoppable, their thundering hooves ready to crush anything that dared defy Order. Even in death, they remained willing to follow the great God of Order, fighting for Order! The First Knights of Order were answering the return of the God of Order! Inside the Temple of Order; above, the original orbital trajectories of the stars began to veer off course. Giants and priests strained with all their might to haul the stars back into place, preventing collisions between them. Even the colossal dharma bodies of the temple elders were pressed into service as manual labor, pushing back against impending disasters. Below, disturbances erupted across countless pocket spaces sealed within the Temple of Order. Residual souls of monster beasts wailed, while fearful sobs arose from burial grounds. One could say the solemn, sacred Temple of Order had descended into a chorus of "ghostly weeping and wolfish howls." At this time, several middle-aged men and women appeared on the highest star. Their robes differed from those of other temple elders: rather than being trimmed with gold, they were almost entirely gold, with only black trim along the edges. "Why has everything suddenly fallen into chaos?" "No, you are mistaken. Suddenly, everything is being corrected." *** Mobiten held a shield in his left hand and a short blade in his right, standing on the steps before the grand office hall. His guards had completely encircled the hall, barring anyone from entering. This was an order directly from the High Priest. Yet as more and more people arrived, their ranks growing higher and higher, the beads of sweat on Mobiten's forehead multiplied. He would adhere strictly to his duty, but the pressure bearing down on him was mounting. Not only had the supreme heads of various systems arrived in person, but many retired elders whose seniority eclipsed nearly everyone else were also present. Unusual disturbances had erupted not just in the First Knights and the Temple of Order, but across numerous other subordinate branches. Commotion of this scale could not be hidden from them, nor could it be hidden from the ecclesiastical world at large. The last comparable event had been the resonance of the Temple of Order less than a year ago. Yet this time, the impact was countless times greater. A special envoy from the Temple arrived. Mobiten looked up, only to find that the drivers of the unicorn carriage were two temple elders! "The High Priest has ordered that no one may enter!" Mobiten roared in a low voice once more. His guards raised their shields together, locking into a defensive formation. "Why won't the High Priest see us?" "Indeed. Something this momentous has happened—could the High Priest not have sensed it?" "Everyone..." A voice came from inside the carriage, and the crowd fell instantly silent. In truth, the vast majority of church magnates present had no idea who was inside. But considering that two temple elders were driving the carriage, just how exalted must the passenger be? "Let us wait. Our High Priest can only sense this far more deeply than any of us." All the magnates present became as obedient as well-mannered children. They spontaneously lined up and crossed their arms over their chests in unison: "We obey the decree." "We obey the decree." Inside the grand office hall, shrouded in pitch darkness, only the area around the desk held a faint gray light. A bloodstained quill lay on the desk, its severed half slowly squirming as it gradually healed. Yet blood continued to drip from the center of High Priest Norton's brow, drop by drop, pooling on the desk before trickling over the edge. Norton's mouth was open as he drew deep, ragged breaths. Though he had received no reports of the disturbances outside, it was just as that supremely exalted figure outside had said: Norton felt it more acutely than anyone. This was also why, after taking the seat of High Priest early, he had been able to berate the Temple ruthlessly without fearing retaliation from them. The Temple of Order was the supreme interpreter of dogma, possessing divine authority that superseded the secular power of the Holy See. Yet when the High Priest of the Holy See was the inheritor of Lord Tyrannus—the very architect who had founded the Church of Order—everything changed. One could say the current High Priest of the Church of Order was the supreme arbiter of both secular and divine authority. The agitation from Tyrannus had already been suppressed by Norton. Yet he felt not the slightest joy at successfully suppressing the entity within him once more, for he could clearly sense the joy that entity was transmitting. That being had not sought to exploit the moment to seize control of this body. He had merely wanted to... share his happiness. "Heheh..." Norton let out a soft laugh. His palm pressed down onto the pool of blood on the desk, slowly clenching into a fist. He had already begun preparing in advance for the return of the gods. In the worst-case scenario, even if the deities of other churches returned one after another, he would lead the Church of Order to stand firm. He understood why so many outside had rushed here in haste, and he understood why they were so unusually excited. The return of the gods meant a reshuffling of power in the ecclesiastical world—no, throughout the entire world. But as long as the great God of Order returned as well, this world would still have to abide by the laws of Order! "Have you returned?" Norton asked in a low whisper. "Where are you now?" Norton lifted his head, gazing blankly into the surrounding darkness. "Isn't this era precisely what you wished to see—a world running normally, unhindered by divine intervention? "Then why must you return? "The one who forged this era with your own hands was you! "And now, do you intend to destroy everything you built? "My Church of Order does not recognize branch deities; we are a monotheistic faith. "Yet every time I read *Light of Order*, I glean only one truth from that book: "Above Order, no god should exist in the first place!" Norton leaned back into his chair, his eyelids slowly drooping. He smiled. "Why didn't you descend directly upon the Holy See? Why didn't you descend directly upon the Temple? Or is it that, although you have returned, you are still weak?" Norton's chest heaved. As the High Priest of the Church of Order, his eyes shot with blood, he said in a deep voice: "I will find you, my great God. I will slay you. I will smother you in the cradle, in the name of... Order!" *** Church of Principles, Church of the Dark Night, Moon God Church, Church of Samsara, Emerald Church, Church of the Abyss, Church of Galida... Terrifying, shocking news was spreading among the orthodox churches. Soon, the large and medium-sized churches below them would learn of it as well. The patriarchs, scepter-bearers, popes, and high priests of the orthodox faiths sank into stunned silence upon receiving the news. The temple elders within each church's sanctuary either wore expressions of helpless despair or erupted in rabid fury. The chain of disturbances occurring within the Church of Order could not be concealed. Mutual infiltration among the major churches had never been a secret. Shouts, interrogations, and hysterical roars echoed through the highest echelons of the orthodox churches. *On what grounds? Why? How could this happen!* The Church of Order was already an absolute hegemon, and now it was going to be the first to welcome back the true hegemon of the divine realm. This era had already gradually evolved into the era of the Church of Order. If the God of Order returned and descended first, the world would plunge into yet another era belonging exclusively to Order! *** "Stupid dog, if you don't speak, I'm burning off all your fur and turning you into a mangy stray!" Purr angrily delivered an ultimatum to Kevin. Kevin looked at Purr. Its symbiosis contract had vanished, leaving it panicked. It didn't understand—how could there exist a power in this world capable of erasing a symbiosis contract? Yet Kevin understood all too well: in this world, who had the qualifications to sign a symbiosis contract with a god? Little Kanna sat nearby in silence. By rights, with the master-servant contract gone, she should have been on more equal footing with Karen, but she felt a sense of loss inside. She vaguely sensed that something had happened to the owner of the clothes she was wearing. "Sigh..." Kevin let out a sigh. "Stupid dog..." Purr drew out her tone, her paw kneading together a plump, blazing fireball. Kevin opened his mouth. He had intended to speak, feeling he should say something at this moment, but looking at Purr, his heart softened. He knew Purr would be devastated. He didn't want Purr to lose him right after losing Karen. Though thinking this way might seem a little narcissistic, he often placed himself in the position of being needed. "Woof, woof, woof..." As Purr listened to Kevin's explanation, her cat eyes widened steadily. When he finished, the fireball in her paw dispersed. Instead, she pounced onto the golden retriever, furiously raking her claws across him and leaving trail after trail of scratches. "Why did you hide it from him? You clearly knew! You knew this might happen! Why didn't you tell him? You did it on purpose, didn't you, stupid dog? You did it on purpose! "You deliberately kept it from Karen just so you could wait for your God of Order to return! You rotten dog, you dead dog!" Kevin did not resist, nor did he dodge. He merely looked at Purr with calm eyes, allowing her claws to leave bloody welts across his body. "Woof." Finally, Purr stopped, murmuring, "Yes... you're right. Even if you didn't say it, Karen knew. He knew he couldn't go there, but he went anyway." Purr curled up like an exquisite furball, trembling and hitching. "Diss, I've failed you... I didn't take good care of Karen. "Eunice, I've failed you... I couldn't look after your fiancé. "Ah, wahhh... my Karen, my Karen! Cat's Karen!" Little Kanna stepped forward, hesitated, and picked Purr up in her arms. She didn't know how to comfort people, but she felt she needed to say something to make the cat feel a little better, so she asked, "Karen is dead?" The weeping cat froze. Kevin: "Woof, woof." *(When the god's will descends, Karen will cease to exist.)* "Why?" Little Kanna asked. "Woof." *(Because gods cannot be fought.)* Little Kanna pointed a finger at Kevin. Kevin: "..." Little Kanna shook her head and said, "From the first time I heard the word 'deity,' I felt disgusted. So I don't understand what there is to fear about fighting something so repulsive." Then she added, "I can even endure taking a bath." Kevin shook his head and looked out the window again. That scene from his memory surfaced once more. The God of Order had flattened the God-Burial Grounds. When emerging, the invincible deity had been heavily wounded. He himself had been ordered to banish the God-Burial Grounds. In the middle of it all, there had been a brief interlude. The god had said: "I'm full." *** The foul seawater had nearly reached bottom. Despair was written across the red-necked boy's face. Finally, when no more seawater could flow through it, its body dropped. As it entered the statue's mouth, it began to disintegrate, ultimately turning into countless shimmering specks that were drawn inside. Karen remained prostrated on the palm in his earlier posture. Just then, the palm tilted even further, and Karen's body began to slide downward. It was about to end. It was a despair that felt like an entire mountain pressing down upon him. There was no energy left for reminiscing, no stream of memories recalling whom he had let down or failed. Such things were far too luxurious right now. Karen's consciousness was limited roughly to hearing his own breathing, and that indistinct perception of the person across the mirror in the same posture as himself. *It's ending for me... about to end completely.* *I don't want it to end like this, but I'm powerless.* *You on the other side... are the same, aren't you?* *We both resisted, we both struggled, we both tried—yet we... met the same end.* *We lost.* *Before it, we never had a chance of winning, not even the slightest.* His body slid further. Karen had already reached the edge of the palm. The moment he left it, he would tumble into its mouth. Normally, when merely facing an occasional meal, it would become wild and difficult to rein in. This time, having devoured divine pollution, it had slipped entirely beyond control. It was the host, while he had only ever been an appendage—no, a trivial, insignificant burden. It was his own blind confidence that had given him a false illusion, deceiving him into thinking he could truly withstand all of this. In reality, his so-called standing had been built entirely on the premise that it was still lying asleep. He was that... self-righteous clown who, in the end, had only amused himself. Heh. *Haaah... haaah... haaah...* Karen could already count down his own breaths. He was even guessing whether he would slide off completely on the next breath, or the one after that, and be annihilated entirely. From this body, from this soul, a true existence would awaken. A god of the rules of Order would revive once more! It was not the previous God of Order; it was the purest deity of Order. Perhaps due to the angle of the tilt, Karen, kneeling on the ground, saw a shadow appear beneath him, reflected from the other side of the mirror. Indeed, the one across the mirror was kneeling as well. The final knot in Karen's heart dissolved completely, for he had confirmed it: *So you and I were the same in the end.* Finally, the surface of the giant palm stood completely vertical, preparing to deliver the final, most delicious, and most exquisite morsel into its mouth. Karen's feet left the palm, dangling in the air. His legs and torso also peeled away from the palm. Yet right at that moment, Karen suddenly saw the shadow beneath him move. As though he had merely been lying on the ground resting and dozing, he began to roll over. He began to crawl up. He sat up, stood up, and even turned to walk away with utter ease. *Haaah-haaah-haaah-haaah!* Karen's breathing grew instantly heavy. His eyes flew wide open, and the tiny shred of consciousness that had been faint almost to the point of extinction suddenly surged with boiling fury. It turned out that all of this had been his own wishful thinking. That him across the mirror—the him of the past—had not knelt down. He had stood up! *If you could do it, why the hell can't I?!* *And what did you mean by kneeling there beside me for so long just now?!* *Buzz!—* Both of Karen's hands locked onto the very last edge of the palm. He hadn't fallen. At this moment, he felt an intense grievance and hatred toward that figure. He cursed like a madman: "You whore-raised God of Order, you're fucking playing me!"