Order—Awaken!

Karen sat before the mirror, applying medicine to the wound between his brows himself before bandaging it carefully. He had already tried healing arts, but to little effect. After all, it was an injury pierced by a finger of Light, imbued with a sort of stubborn persistence that left one helpless; it seemed destined to heal only at the slow pace of an ordinary human. As for things like tetanus infection or rabies vaccines, Karen figured he didn't need to worry about them—consider it a bare minimum of respect reserved for the God of Light. "Squeak..." Little Kanna came out of the washroom carrying Purr. She had just finished giving Purr a bath. Even though she had been so exhausted in the performance hall that she had nearly collapsed, once back in the room, she still adhered strictly to the rule that one must bathe before going to bed. After placing Purr onto the pillow, Little Kanna lay down at the foot of the bed, resting her head on her hands. Sleeping at the foot of the bed wasn't mistreatment; she simply loved to roll all over the place in her sleep, and the open space at the foot of the bed gave her plenty of room to roam freely. Karen stepped into the washroom, took a shower while keeping the wound dry, and came out having changed into a pair of black pajamas. Although he had instructed Alfred to take a day off, Karen himself wasn't tired in the slightest. Having absorbed so much holy power, his energy was now remarkably boundless. Sitting down at the desk, he opened the thick spellbook in front of him. By the combined glow of the desk lamp and the moonlight, Karen began reviewing Order spell arts. He read for hours on end. It had truly been a long time since he had studied a spellbook with such diligence. Sure enough, practical utility was always man's primary motivation to learn. Massaging his neck lightly, Karen picked up the notebook lying on the desk and flipped it open to notes he had written in the past. Although Neo had expressed utter shock at his "strength as a God's Servant," there was actually one thing Karen hadn't told him. It wasn't an intentional concealment; right now, it was merely an inkling. He had originally thought starting over would be like retaking an exam: knowing the questions beforehand, one could easily earn higher marks with better preparation. Yet reality was completely different from what he had imagined. You might be better prepared, but the tier of difficulty had increased by far more. It was like playing with neighborhood friends in childhood: you skipped stones well, told captivating stories, or had some skill your peers envied, prompting a little girl to gaze at you in adoration and declare that she wanted to be your bride when she grew up. Once you grew up, you certainly knew far more than your younger self, being more mature and capable. But that same little girl wouldn't agree to be your bride just because you skipped stones well or told children's tales anymore. Especially now: the next stage after God's Servant was God's Revelation. You had to receive inspiration from a god. Yet the problem was that last time, he could still contend directly with the "God of Order"—critique his revelation and prove through personal practice that the revelation provided was flawed, that the guidance given was misleading. Now, however, he was already walking upon the path of the rules of Order. Though he was still minuscule, his position was no longer the same. So, a God's Revelation... wouldn't he have to give a revelation to himself? Between the test taker and the test maker, the cognition and understanding of the subject matter were vast worlds apart. Karen had originally envisioned advancing from God's Servant to God's Revelation and then to God's Shepherd right here in Allen Manor, using this brief convalescent leave to recover straight to Inquisitor or even return to the Adjudicator realm before stepping out again. Now it seemed that was utterly unrealistic. At the very next step, he had run straight into a wall. Karen used his fountain pen to sketch a tree scribbled hastily in his notebook. He dotted it densely; those dots were all people clinging to the tree and climbing upward. Immediately following that, he sketched a tiny sapling beside the great tree. No matter how rich your experience in climbing trees was, none of it applied to how you should grow rapidly once you had turned into a sapling. Fortunately, in terms of combat power, his current God's Servant realm was already enough to rival what he had possessed when venturing into the burrow. Karen closed the notebook, leaned back in his chair, and looked out through the French window into the night sky. In that direction lay Ruilan—the direction of home. "Grandpa, you worked so hard to suppress your realm. If only it were possible, the two of us really should switch places. Heh." Karen chuckled, but as the chuckle faded, a trace of melancholy crept back in. Silently turning his head, he looked behind him. There was no phantom of Diss to be seen. This was something Karen was perplexed by as well: had the Inmerais family bloodline truly been dissolved by the divine pollution, or not? Reasonably speaking, back in the burrow, only that statue of hunger addiction had remained within his soul space. No, there was also this. Karen opened his hand. A black feather appeared in his palm. Qianmei was still here, though it needed time and nourishment to recover. Thus, if he had survived that moment by relying on his grandmother Arte's bloodline to awaken the power of the God of Eternity, then his bloodlines ought to have been preserved in this new body. By extension, the Inmerais family bloodline should, by all logic, have remained intact as well. The most hopeful possibility was that it simply needed a period of convalescence too. At times, it wasn't that Karen sought to rely on the power of his family's belief system; rather, when his grandfather's phantom stood behind him, it gave him a comforting sense of security. Taking a deep breath, Karen exhaled long and slow, then stood up and drew the curtains. Ah. How nice. Tomorrow the sun would still rise as usual. ... When he awoke, Karen received a letter handed over by Alfred during breakfast. The letter was written by Neo, very brief in his typical style. The gist of it was: saying goodbye for now; he wanted to clear his head. Alfred sighed with deep emotion. "Young Master, we might not be seeing Neo again anytime soon." Karen tossed the envelope onto the table nonchalantly, chewing on the steak in his mouth as he spoke. "If someone else said they were clearing their head, I'd think they took a voyage out to sea. With Neo... I suspect he's probably gone to the black-market stock exchange to stage a comeback, and then head up to a rooftop to feel the breeze." With that, Karen took a sip of orange juice. "Go ask Leon if Neo borrowed any securities from him." "Understood, Young Master." "How are the preparations over there coming along?" "In response to the Young Master, everything is ready." "And your study-and-exchange session?" "It was held this morning and was a great success. Everyone was profoundly shaken by what they witnessed in the performance hall yesterday. A single miracle truly works better than a whole year of my preaching." "Facts speak louder than words." "Yes, this subordinate will remember that." "Get things ready. I'll head over shortly to awaken Old Saman and Count Rekar." "Understood. This subordinate will arrange for everyone to observe the ceremony." Pausing, Alfred added, "I believe this is very important." Because this was granting a second life right before their eyes. Karen nodded, then seemed to recall something and said, "Set up another summoning formation for me as well. I need to get in touch with Luoya afterward." "Right away, Young Master." After finishing lunch, Karen prepared to head to the performance hall. Yawning, Purr lay perched on Little Kanna's head, still feeling drowsy. Karen reached out to stroke its head and said, "Your great-great-great-great-niece isn't sleepy anymore, so now it's your turn." Purr opened its eyes to glance at Karen, saying nothing. "I'll instruct Alfred to upgrade your coffee by another tier." Purr's cat ears instantly pricked up, and its tail began to swish. "Once we wrap up the awakenings in the performance hall, we'll have a feast tonight. I'll cook the fish myself." "Heh-heh, meow." Purr lifted its head and sprang from Little Kanna's head toward Karen's shoulder, but because its body was too weak, it fell short and slid downward. Karen reached out and caught Purr by its hindquarters, cupping it safely and lifting it onto his shoulder. "Oh, my little Karen, kitty loves you." Purr extended its paws, hugged Karen's cheek, and nuzzled affectionately. Karen leaned down, letting Little Kanna take Purr back. "By the way, where's Kevin? I haven't seen him since yesterday." "That dumb dog... probably moved out." Purr closed its eyes again and began to doze off. Karen walked out of the bedroom. At the end of the hallway, he spotted the dog bed. The large golden retriever had originally been taking an afternoon nap there, but upon hearing footsteps, it turned around. Seeing Karen standing by the bedroom doorway, it was jolted by a violent shudder. Scrambling to its feet, the dog leaned its head forward with hind legs locked straight, its tail flicking up momentarily before instantly tucking back down. "Woof, woof, woof." "What's wrong with you?" Kevin shook his head, offering a goofy, docile grin. Karen didn't linger any further and turned to head downstairs. Kevin shook out his fur, crept back into the dog bed, and breathed a long sigh of relief. Ever since Karen had successfully purified himself into a God's Servant yesterday, Raniedal had once again recalled the dread of being dominated by the terrifying pressure of the God of Order. ... Inside the performance hall, lights and banners hung everywhere. The usual solemnity was gone, replaced by the warmth of a birthday party. A huge cake stood in the central area, flanked by a row of long tables bearing drinks and other dishes. Further outward stood two small tents equipped with mirrors, resembling the fitting rooms of a York City clothing boutique, only larger. Inside one tent hung two outfits. One was a pirate costume complete with everything—eyepatch, pocket watch, boots, dagger, and all. The other was the formal attire of the Allen family, tailored to the family's noble rank. Obviously, this was prepared for Count Rekar. Inside the other tent also hung two sets of clothes: one was the clerical robe of the Church of Pamires, and the other was a cemetery keeper's uniform accompanied by a large broom—prepared for Old Saman. However, Karen also noticed two neatly folded Order clerical robes placed beneath the table holding the massive cake. The primary color of an Order clerical robe was forever black, with chest emblems varying according to department and rank. Embroidered on the chests of these two robes was an "Ace of Spades." An A. Just then, Ventura and the others, who had been perfecting the venue's decorations, walked over upon Karen's arrival. They, too, naturally wore Order clerical robes, each embroidered with the Ace of Spades on the chest. If nothing else, Count Rekar's pirate attire and Old Saman's Pamires robe couldn't have been put together in less than a day. Even if bought ready-made via teleportation formations regardless of cost, sizing would have posed a major issue. Count Rekar was towering, while Old Saman was slightly stooped, yet the clothes prepared for them were clearly tailored to fit. This meant Alfred had prepared all of this well in advance. From the moment he learned Karen possessed the ability to provide "continuous awakening," he had quietly begun stocking these items—perhaps even earlier. Yet the prepared garments were secondary. Once the awakening was complete, so long as Old Saman and Count Rekar were "sensible," they wouldn't choose the outfits in the tents; instead, they would take the initiative to put on the Order clerical robes resting beneath the cake. It was a formality, but at a moment like this, formality was necessary to demonstrate allegiance. As the leader of the team, Karen could afford to be casual, even spontaneous, giving full play to his personal charm. Yet the forging and expansion of a team could not do without someone like Alfred. Otherwise, Karen would end up like Mr. Luther: seemingly dazzling and celebrated while alive, but dissolving into utter chaos the moment he died. "Young Master." "You've done very well." "It is this subordinate's duty." "Tell me, when Grandpa chose you back then to accompany me to Wien, did he ever imagine we would have a day like this?" If an elder's indulgence toward his grandson was born of unconditional bias and high hopes, could he have foreseen that a radio aberrant demon from Luojia City would one day become the true organizer behind a burgeoning force within the Church of Order? Alfred replied, "Young Master, the main reason Old Master Diss selected me was my loyalty to you. Do you recall that night at the hospital, when you and Purr were attacked by the bewitching aberrant demon? When this subordinate rushed to the hospital and saw Old Master Diss arriving late, I even yelled at him, accusing him of failing to protect you properly." "You still remember that so vividly." "After all, it was the pinnacle moment of this subordinate's life." Right now, Old Master Diss lay motionless, where the slightest stir from him could cause the former High Priest panic and unrest. Yet he, Alfred, had once fought Old Master Diss to a draw and even berated him to his face! Alfred harbored a few little ambitions of his own: he wondered whether this "interaction" with Old Master Diss could later be penned into his personal biography, complete with a few murals illustrating the scene in the chronicle dedicated to him. Perhaps thousands, tens of thousands of years, or even several epochs from now, future mural onlookers and divine historians would argue endlessly over his true level of prowess. "Wait here a moment, everyone. I'll head inside to chat with them first. Who knows, they might be fishing right now." "Yes, Young Master." "Yes, Section Chief." Karen stepped up to the two coffins. A black chain emerged beneath his feet and sank into one of them, and he slowly closed his eyes. ... On Count Rekar's ship, no one was in sight, so Karen made his way into Old Saman's cemetery. The cemetery had turned into a pond, with gravestones rising out of the water where numerous fish swam around, and a beached whale lay stranded in the shallows. These two had truly reached an extreme level of boredom, even dabbling in abstract art. Karen's figure materialized on the steps. Before him, Count Rekar and Old Saman were each holding a fishing rod, angling quietly. Both sensed something immediately and turned their heads in unison. Count Rekar stood up at once. "Young Master Karen." Old Saman clasped his hands and bowed slightly. "Heh-heh, Karen." "Are you two planning to branch out into the arts? Once you get out, you could take up painting or making films." Old Saman explained, "Last week we fished for gravestones on his ship; this week we're fishing for fish in my cemetery." "You've had a rough time," Karen said. The reason the lady in the undersea tomb preferred amusing herself down there rather than moving over early was precisely that she didn't want to endure this kind of "airtight" existence. This served as a reminder to Karen not to awaken people lightly just for "storage." After all, even prepped ingredients spoil if left sitting too long. Awakening them ahead of time without providing the energy required to leave their coffins was effectively subjecting them to solitary confinement. "Young Master Karen, please do not say such things—it shames me. You have already given me and the Allen family far too much. An ungrateful sailor is doomed to be swallowed by the sea." "Resting like this is quite nice, really," Old Saman said, gathering his thoughts. "Chatting is pleasant too. He's already told me the tales of countless generations of his ancestors, and I've recounted the history of the Church of Pamires to him." Karen asked with a smile, "You've finished telling everything?" Old Saman nodded. "Oh, we finished that ages ago. Right now, we're hard at work fabricating new stories. With a bit more time to accumulate material, once we can roam about in reality, one of us can rewrite his family history while the other rewrites his church's history. It's all made up anyway—hardly any difference." "Then I might have to disappoint you, because you probably won't have enough time to prepare any more of that." Count Rekar and Old Saman didn't react at first, but after exchanging a glance, they both snapped their gazes toward Karen. Could it be...? Karen nodded. "Get ready." With that, Karen's figure vanished from the space. In reality, he slowly opened his eyes and raised his palm. A golden chain shot forth from his palm, splitting into two midair, each sinking into one of the two coffins before him. Everyone around instinctively straightened their backs, their expressions solemn as they waited to bear witness. There was no prologue, no further verbal preamble. Karen simply uttered: "Order—Awaken." Buzz! Buzz! The lids of both coffins hovered upward at once. Karen felt the spiritual power within his body being rapidly drawn out, surging along the golden chains into the two corpses. Even though the depths of his soul held only a small puddle right now, this frantic output merely rippled its surface and made it slightly shallower. Once the infusion reached a certain threshold, Karen suddenly discovered it had hit a critical ceiling. Even if he had more to give, they could not contain it; the excess spiritual power was already overflowing. Was this already their limit? The power he infused could not form an effective circulation within them; it was more like simple filling. Of course, in the eyes of outsiders, the awakening spell arts of the Church of Order were already a "miracle," and Karen's ability to recharge awakened individuals was a "miracle among miracles." Yet with the precedent of the "Twelve Knights of Order" before him, Karen knew clearly that he could do even better. He refused to believe that the Twelve Knights of Order—each having achieved the status of a tributary deity—had merely been puppets energized and manipulated by the previous God of Order. Was there a way to improve this? Karen thought of one method, but didn't dare implement it rashly: Order-fication. He worried that with a slight misstep, he might end up swallowing or dissolving them. Still, from the look of things, Order-fication was likely the optimal solution: allowing the power he infused to form an orderly, closed-loop cycle within their bodies. This would vastly enhance their autonomous efficiency, requiring him to top them up only at intervals or during special circumstances. While Karen was still contemplating ways to perfect the process, two figures sat up inside their respective coffins. Both were veterans who had weathered stormy seas and had been mentally prepared; naturally, they didn't bolt upright in "astonishment" or "delight," nor did they cry out, "What's happening?" They climbed silently out of their coffins and walked over to stand before Karen. Karen looked at them. Before they could drop to their knees, he crossed his arms over his chest and said in a deep voice: "Praise Order." What he wished to gain were companions—a healthy, positive team—not a gathering of slaves. In the mythological narrative of the *Light of Order*, the Twelve Knights of Order were described as followers of the God of Order, not domesticated slaves. Alfred and the others made the same gesture, chanting in unison: "Praise Order." Count Rekar and Old Saman both paused. They had originally intended to kneel. After all, they had been granted a second life, and given the identity the youth had revealed... a kneel was only right and proper. Yet the current rhythm was... True to his past as a pirate king, Count Rekar crossed his arms without hesitation and roared, "Praise Order!" Perhaps not even when shouting "Praise the Progenitor" back in the day had his voice been so resounding. Old Saman was a bit slower. As a devotee of the Church of Pamires, shifting suddenly toward Order was truly awkward for him. But on second thought, why had he committed suicide last time? Sigh, he had already surrendered his life back to his church; this current life was gifted by the youth before him. What was there to be awkward about? Besides, in the dead of night, the pontiff and God's Son of his Church of Pamires might well be chanting "Praise Order" in front of their mirrors too. Exhaling softly, Old Saman crossed his hands. "Praise Order." Karen smiled and said, "From now on, we are comrades." Alfred added, "Of the twelve knights, two have now awakened." *(Gentlemen, the stature of tributary gods!)* Hearing this, Count Rekar's eyes turned bloodshot. He struck his chest three times with his fist and shouted, "I dedicate my total loyalty!" Old Saman couldn't bring himself to be so boisterous, but swept up in the emotion, he pumped his arm. "Likewise!" In truth, Alfred wasn't the only one obsessed with making it onto murals. Everyone present hailed from church circles, and each harbored an ultimate dream deep within their heart. Karen spread his hands. "Alright, let the banquet begin." Count Rekar went into the tent, changed into his pirate outfit, and came out—only to see Old Saman wearing an Order clerical robe. "Oh, Saman, you son of a bitch!" Spitting the curse, Count Rekar grabbed the clerical robe and hurried back in to change. The banquet had a lively atmosphere. Alfred kept the mood buoyant, and everyone cooperated enthusiastically; even Philomena raised her glass every time a toast was made. During the meal, Karen chatted with Count Rekar and Old Saman, mainly discussing the issue of time. The feedback could not be called bad. According to their estimates, if they minimized their physical activity—say, sitting in a chair after meals and basking in the sun like an ordinary octogenarian or nonagenarian—they could sustain themselves for roughly three months. If living like normal people, walking about and sightseeing from time to time, they would have only about one month. Karen asked, "What if you engage in a battle?" Count Rekar replied, "Then it's only enough for a single fight." Karen looked at Old Saman. "What about forging and research?" Old Saman said, "One week if I work on the front lines myself. If I have assistants and only provide guidance, half a month." Karen nodded. Indeed, there was still immense room for improvement regarding duration. Old Saman and Count Rekar harbored no dissatisfaction whatsoever; in fact, they were thrilled beyond measure. Whenever their time ran low, Karen could recharge them. In theory, they were like patients sustained by miracle drugs: at the very least, they were alive again, and with a rather decent quality of life. Even if Karen was delayed by business, they didn't have to worry; they could simply lie back in their coffins ahead of time and wait in stasis. "Count, you will temporarily oversee the security of this manor." "Yes, Young Master." "Old Saman, familiarize yourself with the formations and environment here first, then see if you can repair some artifacts for us. If you have any ideas, feel free to put them into practice." "Certainly, that is my duty." Old Saman added, "However, I do have a concept. Do you still remember that refrigerator I gave you?" "It's still sitting in my home." "That refrigerator can be modified to expand its space, encompassing this place." Old Saman pointed around at the coffins. "In fact, when I first designed these coffins, I foresaw this step, though I never expected to begin implementing it so soon." "You mean turning this place into a giant refrigerator?" "Yes. How did you use it previously—to summon weapons, correct?" "Mm. Within the York City area, I can use it..." Karen produced a formation bead, "...to summon my weapons." "Then once the modification succeeds, you will be able to summon..." Old Saman smiled, deliberately pausing before delivering the answer, "...summon a coffin." "Summon... a coffin?" "Yes. Not just one, but several at once. Of course, the specifics will depend on who you need assistance from. When the time comes, a coffin can be teleported directly to appear before you, and the occupant inside will be at your disposal. As for the range... if I have a suitable assistant—I know my refrigerator was modified by someone, as you told me before; if that master is still around, the two of us working together over time could expand the teleportation range to the entirety of Wien. In truth, the greatest challenge of spatial teleportation lies in safeguarding the traveler's life—primarily the soul—because crude, rapid, and violent teleportation most easily obliterates souls. Yet we, and those who will lie in these coffins in the future, are all people who have died and been awakened by you. Teleporting us is hardly different from teleporting your weapons, because we... have no souls." "That master is still around; it will cooperate with your work. As for the specifics, let Alfred oversee the arrangements, and you can coordinate with him." "Understood." Teleporting coffins across all of Wien... Karen took a sip of wine. Once this was truly realized, wouldn't it mean that wherever he went in Wien, he would essentially be carrying twelve loyal helpers with him at all times? Though counting the reserved one and the one hesitating to move in, there were only four right now, leaving eight vacancies, they were bound to be filled in the future. When the banquet concluded, Karen returned to the study and soon received a telephone call. On the other end was Bern. "Karen, how is your recovery going? I know you've employed some rather unusual healing methods recently." "The results are exceptionally good." "Exceptionally good?" Clearly, the old spymaster found this somewhat bizarre. "Yes, exceptionally good." Karen didn't mind making Bern feel suspicious; sometimes, rather than guarding against him meticulously, being deliberately open worked much better. "So, have you decided for sure to join the investigation delegation?" "Yes. Has the deadline arrived?" "It's actually being dispatched in batches. The first, second, and third batches have already arrived. The fourth and final batch departs this weekend, gathering first in Dinge Region. You can head there a bit early to assemble. If I recall, you still have schooling there; you could attend a day of classes and fill out the form to join that society." "I understand." "The situation over there is grim. The Wasteland underestimated how deeply desert fundamentalism had infiltrated their headquarters. In the beginning, the civil war went smoothly, but now, the opposition seems to be turning the tide. So, you see, enemies from within are always the hardest to deal with. We must learn from this and remain vigilant at all times." "You're quite right." "Come see me before heading to Dinge Region. I want to check on your condition—don't overthink it." "I'm not afraid of you overthinking." "What would I need to overthink about a section chief brave enough to lead a team into a polluted burrow? Heh." Bern shifted the topic. "Speaking of which, that woman seems rather an eyesore right now, but she's the wife of God's Son; we can't make things too ugly." Clearly, Bern and Alfred were thinking along the same lines. Once the obstacle was cleared, the next step was figuring out how to climb higher. "Please leave this matter to me for now." "No problem. If you need any help, just speak up." "Rest assured, I won't stand on ceremony." "Heh-heh." Hanging up the telephone, Karen stood up and walked out of the office, catching sight of Old Anderson standing before Count Rekar like a chastised toddler. Last time had been brief, so this time Count Rekar intended to give the current clan head a proper schooling. Seeing Karen approach, Count Rekar saluted at once, and Old Anderson saluted right alongside his "ancestor." "Carry on." Karen waved a hand and walked toward the bedroom. In the hallway, he saw Old Saman walking toward him with Kevin hoisted on his shoulder, seemingly heading downstairs. "Why carry him?" Karen asked. Old Saman answered truthfully, "I felt that leading him on a leash would be somewhat disrespectful." Kevin whined aggrievedly, signaling to Karen that he wasn't deliberately putting on airs. "Go attend to your work, then. He should be able to help you." "No, it is I who can learn a tremendous deal from him." Old Saman took a deep breath. "Heavens, I never imagined that at my age, I would be granted such a precious learning opportunity—and learning from... an existence like him, no less." "Enjoy it." "Yes, of course." Old Saman continued carrying Kevin downstairs. Kevin let out a sigh of relief as well; he decided he would spend this period toiling away with this fellow in the workshop, which conveniently allowed him to stay away from Karen for the time being. Otherwise, living in terror every day, he worried this canine body would age prematurely. Karen stepped into the bedroom. Purr was still asleep, while Little Kanna sat before the tea table, engrossed in taking her medicine. Seeing Karen enter, she offered a pill toward him. "You eat some too!" Karen replied, "Our family isn't well-off; we can only afford enough for you to eat, so you have to cherish it." Little Kanna blinked, feeling that something sounded slightly off, yet deeply touched nonetheless. In accordance with his earlier instructions, Alfred had already set up a summoning formation here. Karen produced the Laks copper coin in his hand, donned his silver mask, activated the formation, and began summoning Luoya. Soon, Luoya's response came through. In a pitch-black space, Karen saw Luoya, dressed in a purple Lolita dress, skipping merrily toward him with a scroll in hand. "Brother Karen, Big Sister went to help you yesterday, didn't she?" "Yes, she helped me immensely." "Big Sister even erased her own memories of yesterday! Rest assured, Brother Karen, Big Sister is completely trustworthy, and she's always felt an inexplicable fondness toward you." "Her fondness probably isn't toward me." "Oh, by the way, Brother Karen, even if you hadn't summoned me, I would've summoned you, because there's something I have to tell you—something worth celebrating!" "Luoya, I have something to tell you as well, though it might be a bit sad." "The surgical plan regarding the symbiosis contract that you asked me to have everyone modify last time—after day-and-night research by that group of weapon spirits, it's finally finished! This current plan is tailor-made exclusively for your physical condition, Brother Karen. While ensuring the success rate, it also guarantees your bodily safety." "Luoya, you've worked hard. Please thank those weapon spirits who helped with this on my behalf as well. Everyone worked hard; tell them I'll remember the favor." "Haha, don't worry about that at all, Brother Karen, I've got it handled! Right now, I'm practically the leader of the prison-break crew, heh-heh." "Is that so? Our Luoya is amazing." "Of course! Ah, right, Brother Karen, what was the bad news you wanted to tell me? Is it serious?" "Not serious. It's just that the plan probably has to be redone from scratch—because I just changed into a new body." Luoya: "..." ... The sealed space. Luoya appeared, standing at the highest vantage point. Down below, the crowd of weapon spirits immediately asked: "How is it? Is that Great Existence satisfied with our plan?" "He must be satisfied! Our plan is absolutely flawless!" "Yes, I have immense confidence in our plan too—it is the crystallization of our collective wisdom." "I imagine we will receive praise from that Great Existence any moment now!" "Yes, quiet down everyone! Let Luoya convey the Great Existence's response. Heh, I can hardly wait." Luoya spoke: "The plan has to be redone." "What?" "Why? Is there a flaw somewhere?" "Our plan is unquestionably the best suited for that Great Existence's physical condition!" "Yes, exactly! Every single step was planned in meticulous detail based on actual reality!" "Even the professional grand scholars among the high-ranking researchers of the Church of Order couldn't possibly do better than us—we possess wisdom far more ancient than theirs!" Luoya planted her hands on her hips and yelled indignantly: "It's all because you bunch of clumsy pigs were too slow! What are you still gloating about? You should take a good look in the mirror! Because... The speed of your research couldn't even keep up with the rate of that Great Existence ascending in life hierarchy!"