The God of Order's Plan!

"Who is Luoya?" The woman's question caught Karen completely off guard. He had assumed he would be able to establish a resonance with Luoya and guide her into the present containment space. But her reaction seemed to tell him that even this containment space was the one from a thousand years ago. So the artifact spirit of Goddess Mills did not know him, nor did she know Luoya. Karen glanced around. There was no mistaking it: this was the containment space. Even if it was illusory, it was rendered with absolute clarity. The dormitory building had formed a special pocket due to the spiritual leak. He could not leave the building; the moment he stepped outside, he would be cast back into reality, ending all participation here. Yet the concept of space diverged here. You could not cross that outer perimeter, but as long as you remained within it, you could extend outward as far as possible. Still, if even this containment space belonged to a thousand years ago, who in the world had constructed and was maintaining everything before his eyes? Most importantly, an inherent paradox existed here. Karen was well-versed in magic formations. Although he lacked the time and energy to hone his own illusion arts, he had Alfred—the heir to Compasini's legacy—by his side, giving him a solid understanding of illusions. Sometimes, to discern the essence of a problem, one had to strip away the superfluous layers and reduce it to its simplest form. If that dormitory room were treated as an origin point, like the starting seed when weaving an illusion, the most common approach would be to present a familiar little environment, followed by a doorway or hole for you to open yourself, behind which lay the second-stage guided environment designed for you. What was currently known was that the farthest reach radiating from the dorm room was that crack in the ground at the building's main entrance. The moment Karen set a single foot across it, everything outside began repelling him. The illusion had not been designed beyond the dormitory building. This could be understood as a measure to conserve power, since expanding an illusion demanded greater cost and effort. Yet it had constructed an entire containment space from over a thousand years ago. The cost of manifesting this place was vastly greater than rendering a few sports fields, cafeterias, or lecture halls outside the dormitory. Here lay the paradox. Tracing backward from this paradox to its source, the only reasonable explanation was: This dormitory building and the containment space he was currently standing in existed on an equal level. Neither had derived from the other, nor had one expanded out of the other. From the very beginning, they had emerged together, existed together, and operated together. The containment space from over a millennium ago and this dormitory building at Order University from over a millennium ago had entered a special "plane," where they had been preserved ever since. No, it was not their physical reality that had entered. It was more like an imprint. In reality, nothing had been truly affected. Karen still firmly believed that everything he had seen after following Teacher Siderod into that dormitory room was false—including what was before him now. Yet a new question arose: what could have possibly linked two entirely unrelated places over a thousand years ago? Karen had witnessed it firsthand, and the most logical deduction was that the link was created by the "little stunt" being pulled in that very dorm room. And from this sprang yet another paradox: those four in the dorm room could never have succeeded on their own. It was Karen's participation that had granted them the opportunity to see it through. So had he, from a thousand years in the future, influenced what happened a thousand years in the past? "Who on earth are you? You are not an artifact spirit, nor are you a priest of the containment space. No, even a priest of the containment space could not appear here like this. Who are you?" "Praise Goddess Mills." "You know of me? But that is no excuse." The woman raised her hand, light rippling across the harp. "I need to know who you are, and I want to know by what means you managed to enter this place." Karen felt that the harp's artifact spirit from a thousand years ago was nowhere near as gentle and understanding as she would be a millennium later. Not long ago, when he completed his purification, the harp spirit had voluntarily wiped her own memories regarding him. Of course, that was hardly surprising. A thousand years later, she had Luoya bridging the relationship—Luoya got along wonderfully with her "Harp Elder Sister." There was also his status within the Church of Order. Most crucially, when he had purified into an Order servant, the harp spirit had witnessed far too many terrifying secrets that shook even her to the core. Therefore, she could treat his present self that way, but she would never treat a total stranger appearing out of nowhere a thousand years ago with the same courtesy. Fortunately, even if his personal connections were useless here, Karen could still invoke someone else's. "I came to see you at the request of a friend named Raniedal." "Raniedal?" "Yes, that's right." "Who is Raniedal?" Karen was speechless. "Why didn't this friend of yours named Raniedal come himself?" "It isn't very convenient for him right now. Because right now, he's a dog." "Your words sound utterly absurd to me..." "You can completely pretend you never saw me. I know full well that you artifact spirits feel no sense of belonging to this cage. Having one more person like me who can slip in and out to check on things, and perhaps pray for this prison's early ruin, isn't a bad thing, is it?" "Do you honestly think I will listen to you?" "The choice is yours. You can pretend you saw nothing, or you can attack me right now. Naturally, you could also sound the alarm immediately and report an intruder who inexplicably showed up here—and see how that group of artifact spirits who spend every waking moment plotting their jailbreak treats you once they find out." Luoya had mentioned before that within the containment space, a whole faction of artifact spirits had tirelessly spent endless ages researching how to break out. Hearing this, the woman lowered her hand, though she still asked, "This friend of yours named Raniedal—why did he ask you to come see me?" "He was looking for you. Or more precisely, he was looking for your master." Karen produced a scroll and tossed it onto the ground. These were the coordinates. Immediately after, his figure began to dissolve as he returned. The woman walked over to the scroll. She reached out toward it, but hesitated and refrained. Turning back, she retreated into the divine artifact and voluntarily entered a deep slumber. *** *Buzz!* Karen returned to the dormitory. Opening his eyes, he saw the four young men staring back at him with eager anticipation. They looked like four sons watching an aging father return from working away from home, itching to rummage through his satchel for the treats he had brought back especially for them. Ukonga asked, "My dearest father, did you succeed or not?" Karen nodded. "Succeeded. The coordinates have been placed inside." Stepping out of the perception formation, Karen pulled up a chair before the desk and sat down. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and he desperately needed to sort them out. "Tired?" the Mad Pope asked, stepping up to Karen with concern. "You worked hard." Karen shook his head, signaling he was fine. "You don't just look tired—you have something on your mind?" "No, nothing. Philias, you don't need to worry." "Sometimes there's no need to put on a brave front. Some things can be kept in your heart, but others can be spoken aloud." "Philias?" "Yes, go ahead." "Weren't any of you ever curious about my identity?" "Why be curious? Whether you're a student, a teacher, or anyone else, why should we care? Keep in mind, I live here too, and I'm a believer of Light. Under circumstances like this, we can still be friends, so why wouldn't we be friends with you? Besides, you're an Order believer." "Is that so..." "Some things might seem very important, but in truth, they aren't all that significant. It mostly depends on the angle you choose to look at them." Holding a crystal ball, Dicarost laughed aloud. "It really worked! The coordinates are definitely inside the containment space." "Then let's get started right now!" Ukonga urged eagerly. "Right," Dicarost said. "Let's begin. Philias, you oversee the altar's operation." "Understood, on it." The Mad Pope patted Karen on the shoulder and walked up to the altar. Wisps of radiant Light power seeped from his body, soaking into the altar as it began to turn. At least in this era, although Order and Light stood in opposition and conflict, the display of Light's power was not yet something despised by all. "Here, drink some water." Budalas handed Karen a cup. "Thanks." Karen took the cup and took a sip. "Have some of this too." Budalas passed Karen a vial of energy replenishment potion. It was of exceptionally high quality—the kind even an elite Whip of Order squad would hesitate to expend during perilous missions. Of course, Budalas might not have been indulging in luxury here. Considering this dorm's track record—bringing back a chicken when passing the Agricultural College, snapping off a crab claw when passing the Monster Beast Research Institute—this potion had probably just been swiped in passing from the Potion College. Who could have guessed that four towering historical figures, when gathered as youths, would have been this lawless? Ukonga also stepped behind Karen of his own accord, resting his hands on Karen's shoulders to knead the tension away. "Ah, you worked hard, truly hard!" The sight knocked the wind right out of Karen's emotional turmoil. The future High Priest serving him water and a future temple elder massaging his shoulders... if word got out, not a single soul would believe it. Next came the main event. Karen's eyes widened. What unfolded before him showed him what true prodigies looked like, and made him realize that certain baffling feats in history were not without foundation when examined closely. The Mad Pope began chanting an ancient Light incantation. Karen was intimately familiar with Light arts, having wielded both Order and Light side by side for a long time. He could tell that the Mad Pope was reciting an exceptionally high-tier incantation, one step below a forbidden curse. What was more, he was not casting just one; he chanted three simultaneously. The silhouette of a Holy Infant appeared at the Mad Pope's feet, mimicking his posture to grant him divine amplification and shoulder the burden. A Holy Maiden emerged, drifting above the Mad Pope, the brilliance radiating from her body blending into the altar to make its rotation sturdier and more vigorous. A golden sigil flared between the Mad Pope's brows, and the phantom of a mantle draped over his shoulders—the power of a divine artifact: the Guardian Cloak. The principle was identical to how Karen had once drawn upon the power of the Scythe of War through the mark on the back of his hand; the Mad Pope carried a similar inheritance. Back then, the Church of Light had not yet perished, and its divine frameworks remained intact. The Light remnants of later generations could scarcely reproduce such feats, as the necessary conditions no longer existed. Similarly, the only reason Karen could repeatedly draw upon the Scythe of War's power was that the genuine artifact was enshrined and maintained within the Temple of Order. Empowered by three supreme arts, Light runes surfaced upon the altar, accompanied by the faint, echoing hymns of Light. The altar remained the same altar, yet under the Mad Pope's stewardship, its function was amplified tremendously, allowing it to withstand vastly greater pressure. "Haha, my turn!" The crystal ball in Dicarost's hand floated up before shattering with a sharp *crack* into a scattering of starlight, revealing a three-dimensional blueprint. "You fellows probably don't know this, but my Lord, the God of the Abyss, was once a comrade-in-arms of the God of Order! When my Lord paved the path to Heaven, the God of Order joined the effort. In return, both sides collaborated extensively on 'upper architecture'—including this very containment space. "The Church of Order's true containment space was originally an independent, unique space discovered by my Lord while charting the path to Heaven. "Boys, using the clues in my head, I can analyze the layers of the containment space! Since we went through all the trouble of setting up this game, we might as well go big! "Forget the common artifacts that can be summoned on regular days. Let's aim straight for the deepest core, for the most vital artifacts! Let's feast our eyes together, hahahaha!" Dicarost's eyes shifted—one turned pitch-black, the other pure white. As he leaned back, a misty avatar of himself separated from his body, stepped into the altar, and looked upward. "First layer... second layer... third layer... Oh, heavens above, how many gods did the God of Order butcher back then, and how many divine artifacts did he collect?! "Ah, no good! Budalas, I need your help! The seal above is far too powerful; I can't break through on my own. That's your Church of Order's seal—you crack it!" Budalas stepped behind Dicarost, placing one hand on his shoulder while pressing the other to his own forehead. Suddenly, the phantom of a quill appeared in Budalas's grip. Karen recognized that quill; he had even handled one of its replicas. With Budalas's assistance, Dicarost made immense progress, laughing heartily. "Budalas, you're terrifying! If I were part of the Church of Order's leadership, in the future I'd either execute you on the spot or make you the High Priest, hahaha!" Budalas replied, "If I ever become the High Priest, I will undoubtedly lead the Church of Light to declare war on your Abyss, turning your Sea of the Abyss into a battlefield of blood and fire." "Oh dear, how terrifying! I must report this to our elders so they invite you to the Abyss as an exchange student—then arrange an unfortunate accident to dump your corpse into the depths of the Sea of the Abyss to haul barges!" The two bickered back and forth while continuing their "breach." These men were literally treating an unfathomable feat like child's play. For the first time, Karen saw his "peers." For a very long time, Karen's innate talent had far outstripped those around him. But in this dorm room, he saw talents no less monstrous than his own. No—they were already turning that potential into reality. Dicarost suddenly yelled, "Right here! This is the one! Budalas, break it open, quick!" "Sorry, I can't break it. Let's head back to the upper layer. I can't do anything against this... Wait, that's not right. It's loosening! It's actively responding to me!" "Haha, really? What on earth is it? Does it want to come out and play too?" Budalas shouted, "Resonance achieved! Philias, prepare to guide it down!" "Understood!" A black vortex materialized above the altar, something stirring inside as if about to emerge. Yet no matter how fiercely Philias pushed the altar, the object refused to show itself. "What's wrong, Philias? Didn't eat enough for your late-night snack?" Ukonga asked. "No... the target you picked is too extraordinary. I can't control it; I can't pull it all the way down!" "Is that so? It's that troublesome?" Ukonga cracked his neck, black runes rippling across his flesh. Then, to everyone's shock, he strode directly into the altar, mounted the steps, reached the apex, and peered upward while thrusting his hand straight into the vortex. His flesh visibly fractured with rapid fissures, only to knit back together in the next instant. His physical resilience was truly beyond mortal limits. If Neo's bloodthirsty aberrant demon lineage granted him terrifying regenerative capabilities, Ukonga's constitution was built upon pure, unmatched resilience—after all, he had withstood even the dense, purifying aura of Light without flinching. "Out with you!" Ukonga let out a thunderous roar and hauled something down in his grasp: a spearhead—the Spear of Eternity! This was the divine artifact wielded by the God of Eternal in ancient times. After the God of Eternal fell, the weapon had stood planted atop Mount Anlamende, only to be lost when the Light faction's armies led by the God of Order conquered the peak. It turned out the artifact had been in the hands of the God of Order all along, sealed away within the containment space. The moment it appeared, a blue halo rippled outward. In an instant, all five people in the room froze solid. The halo continued to expand, sweeping beyond the room to envelop the entire dormitory building. Everything within the building seemed severed from the outside world, suspended in eternity. Beneath the Spear of Eternity, the figure of an armored man with long white hair materialized. He was not the God of Eternal, but the artifact spirit of the spear. He walked slowly down the altar, bypassing Ukonga, Philias, Dicarost, and Budalas, and walked straight up to Karen. "The God of Order actually succeeded. He found the method to solve that problem." Karen's consciousness gradually transitioned from being frozen in ice to being mired in thick mud. He looked at the artifact spirit before him, confusion surfacing in his gaze. "What...?" "Do you not know what I am talking about? "A grave problem plagued the God of Order for ages. He exhausted countless methods, yet could never sever himself from it. He could only watch it grow and worsen, mutually tormenting each other through relentless clashes and suppressions. "Now, he has finally resolved it." The man bent down, looked at Karen, and smiled faintly. "By banishing that problem to the future."