The First Head

"That's really a pity, Minister Karen. Did you know? Your head has already been reserved by us, hehe." "Oh, is that so?" Karen smiled faintly. "I'm honored." Sometimes, people deliberately engaged in utterly meaningless gestures just to flaunt their distinctiveness and superiority. For instance, wasting time on idle banter before a fight that had a very high chance of ending in life or death. However, during this interval, Demetria had woven a canopy of night in the air, under which believers of the Goddess of Night could receive an immense boost. Karen, on the other hand, had laid down three layers of disposable formations beneath the sand. Beneath the dune where he had previously sat was the formation core, and the greatsword thrust into the sand had served a role akin to a paperweight while deploying them. On the surface, they exchanged words bordering on flirtatious banter, but in secret, neither had ceased preparing to kill the other. "Evernight—Shadow Guard!" Along with Demetria's incantation, a shadow markedly distinct from the surrounding colors enveloped her, then slowly split to either side. Soon, two identical copies of her appeared at her sides. "Evernight—Dawn Strangle!" As she chanted the second spell, the two identical Demetrias beside her chanted in unison. *Buzz!* A black circular wheel appeared in front of Demetria's chest. It cracked open, turning into splashed black ink that splattered over her body, the blackness rapidly spreading to form a pitch-black suit of armor over her. After casting two consecutive spells, Demetria turned her gaze toward Karen. She was somewhat surprised, having expected Karen to launch a surprise attack while she was preparing her spells, but he hadn't. The handsome young man before her, younger even than herself, simply stood there quietly, utterly unmoved by her magical preparations. Demetria cast another spell: "Evernight—Dawn Roar!" "Aaaagh!" An ear-piercing shriek rang out as a woman with disheveled hair emerged from Demetria's body and gradually drifted upward. Soon, the woman floated fully above Demetria's head, feet together, arms lightly raised, her messy hair swaying like seaweed in a peculiar rhythm, while her eyes were a chaotic, grayish white. "Heh." Karen chuckled. This smile was not meant to show contempt, but rather because the girl's combat habits were remarkably similar to his own in the past. [Shadow Guard] was an enhancement spell. The two clones it produced could help the original cast spells more rapidly and efficiently, and likely possessed other abilities as well. [Dawn Strangle] was an advanced defensive spell of the Church of the Night God. That suit of armor not only possessed formidable physical defense, but also greatly mitigated the effects of various negative attributes. [Dawn Roar] provided mental enhancement; it could launch mental attacks and help defend against them as well. Neo had once teased him that every time he fought, he habitually draped himself in turtle shell after turtle shell. She was doing the exact same thing. However, in Demetria's eyes, Karen's smile was sheer provocation. Yet she didn't let it disrupt her rhythm; extending both hands forward, she began pressing down. The sky above grew darker and sank lower, as if the firmament were collapsing. Karen spread his hands palms-up. Without any chanting, appearing completely unprepared to an outsider, the spell materialized directly. The reason lay in Karen's exceptionally resilient soul attributes. For the vast majority of spells, preliminary chanting served as buildup and preparation; forcing rapid activation would lead to soul backlash. But Karen hardly needed to worry about that. When it came to backlash, what could possibly compare to the statue of hunger addiction dwelling deep within his soul? If something could actually backlash that hunger addiction statue away, Karen would welcome it with open arms. Thus, having an uninvited guest living in one's home wasn't entirely without merit. At least when the roof leaked, he'd help patch it, or at worst, catch the water in a basin. As Karen raised his palms, colossal black stone pillars sprouted from the sand—over thirty of them, each thick enough to require three men to wrap their arms around. The rapidly growing forest of stone pillars soon clashed against the collapsing sky above. The two spells collided fiercely; the sky shuddered violently, and the pillars cycled endlessly between being eroded away and regrowing. Karen was quite fond of opponents who were pure spellcasters, as this was the domain he himself excelled in most. What gave Karen the biggest headache was an opponent like Neo, skilled in spellcraft while possessing rich close-combat experience and overwhelming physical constitution. No one wanted to encounter such an adversary—though to a certain extent, Karen fell into that category too. The stalemate dragged on. The two of them were like two stubborn children, neither willing to yield a single step. Whenever Demetria escalated her magical power, she quickly sensed an equal amplification from her opponent. Moreover, he merely matched her pace, never exceeding it. A moment later, the canopy of night grew even darker, thick black fluid churning as though a swamp had been inverted across the sky. Meanwhile, the upper halves of the stone pillars Karen summoned took on a scorched red hue, giving the impression they were on the verge of melting. Yet even so, neither showed any intention of pulling back, instead cultivating an atmosphere where their very opening move felt like the final clash of a duel. Demetria's gaze grew grave. Sensing the terrifying reserves of spirituality in the opponent before her, she couldn't help weighing whether to continue the stalemate. Once both sides piled their magical energy to extreme heights, it would likely reach a point where neither could afford to lose. When that time came, despite both being spellcasters, they would be like duelists holding revolvers for a single sudden showdown; victory and defeat would be decided in an instant. Karen, however, had an additional consideration. Among the three layers of formations he had deployed, one was a perception formation that could vastly extend his sensory range for a brief time. He felt two auras approaching not far off at the periphery. One of the two auras was Lango, who had deliberately halted his steps, refusing to advance. The other aura belonged to a young man from the Church of Life named Daliwenluo. He was not a Holy Child, and didn't even have a father—his mother had conceived him while napping beside the Pool of Life, endowing him with an affinity for the power of Life faith far surpassing ordinary mortals since childhood. Both auras remained stationary. They had surely noticed the commotion here, yet showed no intention of rushing over to assist. Karen found nothing strange in this. When he saw that the pursuer before him was a believer of the Goddess of Night, many speculations had crossed his mind. At its core, his participation in the investigation delegation was a resume-padding journey he had deliberately sought out, and the young woman before him was likely here for the exact same purpose. The rebel commander outside the teleportation array hall had dealt with the Order investigation delegation with the utmost ruthlessness, virtually signaling that he believed far more powerful factions stood behind him. A single church was impossible; in this world, no single church dared challenge the majesty of Order alone. Coupled with the manner of pursuit, Karen concluded there was a high probability this was a hunting game directed at him, orchestrated by a group of outstanding youths from various orthodox churches seeking glory. Karen didn't need supernatural prescience to know this; after all, a large portion of his subordinates were pampering young masters from the Church of Order, and whenever such people congregated, no seemingly puerile stunt they pulled would come as a surprise. Since those two auras had not intervened, it meant they intended to watch the spectacle. What these youths reflected was, in truth, the essence of the alliance among the various orthodox churches within the religious circles. Karen fixed his gaze upon Demetria: *Come on, keep upping the stakes. Let's decide the victor quickly.* In the next moment, Karen took the initiative to intensify his magical power. The red-hot stone pillars began pushing the descending night sky back up with even greater ferocity. Yet throughout this, Karen deliberately released a subtle fluctuation of spirituality, purposefully giving her the impression that he was barely holding on. Sensing the message Karen "sent" her, Demetria hardly hesitated before escalating her power again, driving the lifted sky back down. At the same time, while maintaining the stalemate, Demetria took the initiative to open a new exchange. The clones at her sides began chanting, two shadows creeping outward from their feet and darting straight toward Karen. Karen left his original position and began darting between the stone pillars, but the shadows were swift, steadily closing the distance no matter how he dodged. Yet Demetria noticed that although her opponent was forced into motion, the clash between the sky and pillars above remained largely unaffected. In that instant, Demetria instinctively questioned the cues she had perceived earlier. However, Karen didn't intend to give her much time. He was confident those two peripheral auras were content to watch the show, scorning to gang up and clinging to their laughable pride, but he could not guarantee they would stand idly by and watch her be killed once she fell into an absolute disadvantage. Therefore, for Karen, the buildup to this clash could be drawn out, but the conclusion had to be as swift as possible. His earlier chase with the shadows had brought Karen closer to Demetria. Pivoting sharply, he charged straight at her, the Sword of Diamans in his grip already gathering power. The clones flanking Demetria instantly hastened their chanting. The two shadows pursuing Karen vanished, replaced by two towering shadow figures materializing in his path. Yet the moment the shadows appeared, two Chains of Order burst from the ground and bound them tight. Shadows lacked physical substance; their terror lay in their ability to solidify in a fraction of a second, meaning many countermeasures were useless against them, yet they could unleash lethal damage when attacking. Karen's Chains of Order, however, were virtually tailor-made to counter such flashy tricks. Whether tangible or intangible, as long as it existed and could be sensed, he could bind it. The restrained shadows could no longer impede Karen. Passing them, he was now less than twenty meters from Demetria. This was an exceedingly perilous distance; an accomplished spellcaster was invariably sensitive to spacing. The long-haired woman above Demetria immediately unleashed a piercing shriek, overwhelming mental force surging toward Karen like a tidal wave. Karen's eyes darkened to black. Setting aside all stray thoughts, he entered a state infinitely close to when his hunger addiction had been triggered. In this state, a person became as pure as a blank sheet of paper, minimizing the friction inflicted by mental impact to the greatest extent. However, because of this, the hunger addiction deep within Karen's soul seemed to misunderstand his intent, perhaps assuming he was responding to its call; the phantom silhouette of a colossal statue began to emerge. "Aaaagh!" Seeing her mental assault fail to yield sufficient results, the long-haired woman's eyes turned crimson as an even more powerful psychic shockwave surged anew. This time, Karen began to feel the strain. His consciousness flickered and frayed, and a thick smog seemed to wrap around his mind, smothering his thoughts. Yet at that precise moment, Karen deliberately dropped his mental defenses, allowing the subsequent wave of mental force to plunge unimpeded into his soul. A mental storm churned within the soul space, but accompanied by the emergence of a gigantic silhouette bringing its foot down... "Aaa—ugh..." The long-haired woman's shriek broke off abruptly. Spiderweb cracks spread across her entire form as she began to fracture, disintegrating into pieces. Karen took a deep breath and forcefully sealed his soul space. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth—this injury was actually caused by suppressing his own internal force. The distance shrank from twenty meters to three. Demetria opened her mouth, and a beetle gleaming with a golden sheen flew out. The beetle dashed toward Karen and exploded before him, forming a jet-black wall emanating a dense aura of pollution. It was a forbidden insect. The Church of the Goddess of Night had once annexed many minor churches proficient in breeding insectoid species, integrating their resources into its own sequences. This was one of the fruits of that research. In truth, every orthodox church took great interest in cultivating insect breeds. Mr. Philias, whom Neo had consumed, had also raised insects, and the sole surviving success was currently inside Richard. This was because in the previous era, the Camp of Eternity had included a chief god whose true form was an insect. She had brought genuine nightmares upon the Camp of Light, which led the victorious deities of the Camp of Light to later order the development of insect sequences within their respective churches. Having erected the barrier of pollution, Demetria prepared to disengage—first canceling the ongoing spell clash overhead, then opening up sufficient distance from Karen. Yet to her shock, Karen completely ignored the pollution created by the forbidden insect's self-destruction, plunging straight into it and emerging out the other side. In the past, Karen hadn't feared pollution much to begin with, having been remodeled by Raniedal and fused with the Bone of the Dark Moon. As for now... there was even less cause for fear. His current body had crawled out bit by bit from divine pollution. Dense and potent as the forbidden insect's pollution was, to the Karen of today, it posed no problem whatsoever. Upon contact, he actually felt a peculiar familiarity, as if smelling the bean paste from his hometown. With her most dependable defensive measure suddenly failing, Demetria finally panicked. But the Sword of Diamans was already cleaving toward her. The black armor upon her expanded, reinforcing her defenses. With a heavy thud, the armor held without shattering, successfully parrying the blow, but blood began seeping from Demetria's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Karen, who had once favored the Sea God's Armor, knew all too well that no matter how effective defensive armor spells were, they merely mitigated and absorbed a portion of the damage rather than deflecting it entirely; the caster still had to endure some impact. And spellcasters' physical constitutions were notoriously frail—just like his uncle and aunt, who were Jurists; back when they faced the ambush by the enemy guard captain, Karen had needed to step in and rescue them. Gritting her teeth, Demetria flipped her palms downward. Black fuzz instantly sprouted over the bodies of the clones flanking her, fangs growing from the corners of their mouths as they turned into vengeful wraiths and pounced at Karen, desperate to buy time for the original at all costs. "Order—Cage!" A cubic cage materialized, expanding outward from Karen to shut the two clones outside. Immediately following that, a cut split across the palm gripping his hilt. As blood welled, it instantly formed blood-red runes. "Order—Spear of Judgment!" "Order—Spear of Judgment!" "Order—Spear of Judgment!" Layer upon layer of phantom Spears of Judgment were stacked by Karen onto the blade of the Sword of Diamans. Each new layer demanded double the expenditure and strain of the last, causing a string of small bubbles to churn up from the puddle deep within Karen's soul. Finally, when Karen could barely control the sword in his hand, he shifted from a slash to a thrust, lunging it straight forward toward Demetria right in front of him. The blade pierced clean through Demetria's armor, the power of the Spear of Judgment blooming into a massive black orb on the verge of detonating. At that moment, Karen activated the other two layers of formations he had prepared beforehand. One unleashed a powerful gravitational pull, yanking him back toward his earlier dune. The moment he was pulled back to the dune, the final defensive formation triggered, enveloping him in a protective shield. *Boom!* A horrific explosion erupted, and with it, the spell stalemate overhead reached its conclusion. Pillar after pillar completely pierced through the black sky, making the surrounding area look as if a meteor shower were raining down. Demetria not only had to suffer the devastating damage of her defensive armor spell being shattered, but also had to endure the dreadful backlash of losing the magical clash. When the dust finally settled, in the entire vicinity, only the dune Karen stood upon retained the yellow color of sand; everything else had turned scorched black. Karen stepped down from the dune and walked back to his previous position. Bending down, he first picked up the Sword of Diamans from the ground and blew gently on the blade. Then, using the sword, he poked around the steaming spot before him, revealing Demetria's form beneath. What had once been a lovely, charming girl was now mostly charred black, white bone exposed. Yet she was not dead. Though paralyzed and grievously wounded, consciousness still showed in her eyes. She had lost, and she was pleading with Karen for mercy. Had Neo been here, he probably would have crouched down to cast a healing spell on her, restoring at least her ability to communicate so he could hear her ransom offer. If the price was right, he might even cater to her daily needs for the journey ahead, slapping an exorbitant price on every cup of water and crust of bread. Pity that Neo was Neo, and Karen was Karen. Neo tended to be fiercely rational when sentimentality was expected, whereas Karen was emotional when cold rationality called. Though war had not been formally declared, it had begun the moment those five Order priests were burned to death before the teleportation array hall—at least in Karen's heart. Wearing the Order clerical robes and walking the path of Order faith, one could never escape being drawn into the bloody maelstrom between collective identities. "Since you made me the target in your headhunting game, very well, I shall respect the rules and claim my spoils." No inquiries, no haggling, no courtesies. As the greatsword's edge swept across, Demetria's beautiful head was sliced clean off. Karen picked up the head, tied a knot with her hair, and hung it from his waist. In this moment, Karen appeared thoroughly improper, resembling far more a primitive barbarian who relished flaunting his martial prowess and war trophies. Yet such was the nature of war: stripping away all veneer of civilization to let primal savagery clash, until one side was torn to shreds and the other wiped the blood from lips and teeth, once more donning the cloak called civilization. Even the exalted God of Order had risen step by step from the Battle of the Gods. "All right..." Karen drew a deep breath of the scorched air and slowly exhaled, straightening up to gaze into the distance. "Next."