"Let's do it right here."
"Very well, Young Master."
Karen stopped on the reverse slope of the small hill and took in the surrounding scenery.
Alfred opened a box filled with small blue glass spheres.
Karen took one out and crushed it. A blue spatial teleportation rune flared to life in his palm. His fingers flicked back and forth with blinding speed, completing the final strokes of the rune before he smoothly cast it down against the ground.
Like scattering blue dust, a six-pointed star formation glowed blue upon the earth.
Karen spoke: "Saman."
*Hum!*
A coffin surfaced from within the starlight. One could feel it undergoing violent tremors, but its design absorbed and dispersed most of the shocks with perfection.
At last, as the blue starlight receded, the coffin settled steadily onto the ground.
*Clang!*
The coffin lid was shoved aside, and Old Saman sat up. A broad smile spread across his face as he looked at Karen. "It succeeded! Haha!"
The onlookers around them, along with the cat and dog, erupted in cheers. The dragon was slightly slow on the uptake, but after a sharp glare from the cat, she hastily began clapping along.
In truth, their earlier trial run had already succeeded, but demonstrating it before Karen was their formal inspection, so they still had to display ample joy and enthusiasm.
Karen nodded with a smile. "Thank you for your hard work."
"No, no hard work at all! I've learned so much. Having a teacher like this is something I wouldn't have dared dream of before."
Old Saman climbed out of the coffin, bowed first to Karen, and then bowed to Kevin.
His reverence for Kevin came straight from the heart—after all, this was personal guidance from an evil god.
Karen took out another glass sphere, crushed it, manually completed the rune just as before, and cast it down onto the ground.
A blue starburst flared, and another coffin was teleported over.
*Clang!*
The lid was pushed open, and Daliwenluo sat up inside.
Strictly speaking, summoning one was enough for a trial, but there was no need to play favorites; one had to consider the other's feelings as well.
Count Rekar was currently in Sangpu City protecting Eunice, and Madame Gandiluo had not moved in yet, so the only ones who could lie in coffins right now were Daliwenluo and Old Saman.
Upon emerging, Daliwenluo first bowed to Karen, then took a step back and stood behind Alfred.
After two days of "educational discipline," this bald, muscular man of the Church of Life had developed genuine dread toward Alfred.
By comparison, he would far rather take a brutal thrashing from Karen or Neo than continue enduring Alfred's brand of special treatment. It wasn't sophisticated—it bordered on crude—but Alfred knew full well Daliwenluo couldn't simply "resign," and ruthlessly made his life a living hell!
The moment he stepped out of line or entertained other thoughts, Alfred would target him without any bottom line, such as treating him to a steaming-hot bath of horse manure.
To Alfred, whether a method was clean and dignified did not matter in the least; results were all that counted. The Young Master didn't care about his methods, only whether he could manage the team effectively.
Old Saman stepped forward and said, "Young Master Karen."
Alfred had standardized how the household addressed Karen, and the rule was simple: all living people except Alfred addressed Karen by his official title, while the dead addressed him as "Young Master."
"Yes? Go ahead."
"I plan to simplify this teleportation array further. You possess profound mastery over arrays, so completing the rune on the fly is easy for you, but I hope to make its operation even simpler and more convenient. That way, you'll be able to let others use it as well. What do you think?"
"That would certainly be fine."
Old Saman glanced toward Kevin.
Karen understood at once and asked, "Do you mean you want Kevin to stay at the manor and continue the research with you?"
"Yes. With Teacher Kevin around, my progress will be immensely accelerated."
"No problem."
"That's wonderful! In that case, we can also make some fine adjustments to the manor's defensive array while we're at it. Normally, people from the regional Formation Department would handle the follow-up, but letting them inside now would be rather inconvenient."
"If you need anything, speak directly with Old Anderson, or contact Alfred."
"Understood, Young Master."
"Oh, little Karen, this cat is staying at the manor too." Perched on Karen's shoulder, Purr lightly brushed her tail across his neck.
"What do you plan to do?"
"Once Rekar returns, we're going to build a new ancestral mausoleum."
The ancestral mausoleum lay within the grounds of Allen Manor. Setting up the defensive array had caused some upheaval to the surrounding terrain and geomancy, damaging the mausoleum in the process.
Under normal circumstances, simply repairing it would have sufficed. Ancestral affairs were of paramount importance, and undertaking major construction risked breaking taboos.
However, the Allen family was a special case: they had two living ancestors—one was Purr, and the other was Count Rekar, who had literally climbed out of a grave himself.
Count Rekar had waved his hand and commanded Old Anderson directly: *What's the point of patching it up? Build a brand-new tomb so everyone can celebrate moving into a new home!*
*The inside of that tomb is wrecked; how could anyone 'live' comfortably in there?*
With his word given, the descendants down below had no way to object. Normally, disturbing a tomb risked offending the ancestors and committing grave impiety, but leaving it as-is now meant sitting by while the ancestors endured substandard living conditions, which was equally impious.
Purr had to stay behind to take part in relocating the graves. Though she had never had children, she belonged to the main family line; buried in that mausoleum were her grandfather, her father, and her own nephew.
"Also, I plan to give Eunice a private tutorial on channeling our family's faith power."
Karen asked, "Can't Rekar teach her?"
"Eunice shares my fire attribute, while Rekar is water-aligned. It won't take long anyway. You wouldn't want your wife's power to be good for nothing more than boiling soup in the future, would you?"
"All right, you may all stay behind. I'll have plenty on my plate once I get back. When this busy stretch passes, I'll come pick you up."
Upon returning, he had to assume the post of Regional Chief, organize a new department, and possibly coordinate with the church regarding the war in the desert and raise a militia to march out.
Those three tasks alone would keep him busy enough that he wouldn't have time to return home for quite a while.
Still, once that period was behind him, Karen figured the second surgical plan from the containment space should be ready. When he returned to fetch Purr, they could head straight to the research institute and attempt to grant her the ability to temporarily transform back into human form.
"In that case, little Kanna might as well stay too." Karen stroked little Kanna's head. "She's tired after accompanying me to the desert. She deserves a little vacation."
At these words, little Kanna's expression tightened into solemn focus. She had been bracing herself to muster the courage tonight, after returning with Karen, to try skipping her bath for once!
Purr said, "But with little Kanna by your side, your safety is guaranteed."
"Though I'm officially just a servant right now, my strength hasn't diminished at all; if anything, it has grown significantly. It's more than enough for self-defense. Besides, not only will Philomena be with me, but Neo will be at my side as well. You don't need to worry about my safety."
"Are you sure having that chaos-seeking troll by your side improves your safety?"
"All right, I'll be taking my leave now. Goodbye, everyone."
Karen walked down the hill, and Alfred hurried ahead to open the car door.
Once they drove off, Alfred spoke up: "Young Master, I sent people to call for Madame Gandiluo beneath the water, but to no avail. I plan to make the trip in person."
"Your responsibilities will only increase from here. And if you go and she still doesn't respond, does that mean I'll have to go in person next time?
"Send someone once more to shout at the gates of the underwater cemetery: if she doesn't come out this time, all previous promises are void.
"Whether she comes out or not no longer matters."
"Understood, Young Master."
Alfred knew that as their young master's standing continued to rise, finding new occupants for the coffins would only become easier. Madame Gandiluo had merely been fortunate enough to reserve an off-plan property in advance;
if she still refused to collect the keys, she would forfeit her purchase eligibility entirely.
The car eventually pulled up outside an apartment building in Yorktown. Alfred cut the engine, stepped out, and retrieved a fruit basket and pastries from the trunk, handing them to Karen as he stepped down.
"All right, go attend to your affairs."
"Yes, Young Master."
Carrying the gifts, Karen climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell to Mavaglio's home.
*Click...*
The door swung open to reveal Gaspol.
She looked as though she had just woken up, her hair tousled and her eyes heavy with sleep.
Upon seeing Karen standing at the threshold, she blinked in mild surprise, then smiled. "I thought it was the milk delivery."
"Is it convenient for me to come in?" Karen asked.
"Of course."
Gaspol ushered him inside. The living room was neat and tidy. Sitting down on the sofa, Gaspol smoothly pulled a pack of cigarettes from beneath the coffee table, tossed one to Karen, and lit one for herself.
Karen didn't smoke it, setting the cigarette on the coffee table instead.
Exhaling a smoke ring, Gaspol said, "You're early. The handover ceremony for the Regional Chief position doesn't begin until tonight."
"A visit of this nature ought to be made ahead of time."
"No need to be so courteous. To be frank, when I was first preparing to yield the post to you, I felt somewhat uncomfortable—it felt forced upon me by circumstance, especially given the misfortune in my family.
"Yet you restored the church's honor and dignity out in the desert. That seat is yours by right. Even if my husband hadn't suffered that mishap down there, I would have felt embarrassed to keep holding you down, and the higher-ups would have transferred me out laterally anyway just to make room for you."
"Hey, hey, hey! What do you mean your husband suffered a mishap down there!" Mavaglio stepped out clad in a bathrobe, toweling his hair dry. "The pollution mark has only reached my navel! Didn't you just inspect it yesterday? It's still ages away from there!"
Gaspol shook her head. "My apologies. It was too small to see clearly."
Mavaglio snapped, "You!"
Karen stepped in to smooth things over: "The Regional Chief merely meant the pollution mark was small."
"Heh." Mavaglio took a seat beside the sofa. "Obviously it was so huge that it hurt like hell, yet someone had to blink back tears and pretend not to feel a thing, asking: 'Did it move? I can't feel it.'"
Gaspol glanced at him coolly. "Those were tears of humiliation."
"Aargh!"
Mavaglio surged to his feet in frustration.
Karen was momentarily taken aback. Had their relationship progressed this fast?
It seemed that ever since Gaspol had cursed at Mavaglio by the lakeside outside Order University, the ice between them had officially broken, and things had developed out of control ever since.
On second thought, while the change had been swift, it was hardly surprising.
Mavaglio had long since swallowed his pride, and Gaspol had finally cast off her restraints that night. Both were sharp minds who understood what fate had arranged for them; if they couldn't fight it, they might as well make the best of it.
Even so, they were being a little too uninhibited, airing such matters right before his eyes.
Humiliated before his friend, Mavaglio felt deeply wounded. Unable to resist, he dragged Karen into the fray with dripping sarcasm: "Look at this. Back when you were about to take office, Karen came here to pay his respects, calling you 'Senior Sister.' How long has it been, and now it's his turn to give you an early farewell?
"Look, he even brought gifts, as thoughtful as can be. Don't you feel deeply aggrieved and miserable deep down, puffing on that cigarette to act calm?"
"I am aggrieved, and I am miserable, but what does that have to do with Karen?"
"If not him, then who?"
"Heh, it's not like Karen snuck into your laboratory and blew up your experimental subject."
Hearing that, Karen felt a twinge of genuine embarrassment. Strictly speaking, Mavaglio's laboratory accident was indeed tied to him.
"It's fine. If you feel bitter inside, stop putting on airs. Just like in bed—there's no need to pretend to be a demure lady. If you want to cry out, just cry out; don't bottle it up and suffer."
"That's only because I haven't learned how to fake an orgasm yet. I was afraid sounding too fake would hurt your feelings."
"Keep talking tough!"
A glimmer of comprehension finally dawned on Karen. He rose politely. "Regional Chief, Holy Child, I shall take my leave now. I will see you tonight."
Mavaglio complained, "What, Karen, you're leaving already?"
"I have some matters that require my attention."
Mavaglio saw Karen to the door. Once it was shut, he turned back toward his wife on the sofa.
Gaspol stubbed out her cigarette, her expression turning cool and distant. She said softly:
"Mavaglio, am I a failure? In my career and in my personal life, I'm just a complete failure."
Mavaglio gave a dry chuckle. "Don't talk about yourself like that. The truth tends to sting."
"I had a feeling Karen would pay an early visit today."
"Naturally. He's always so impeccable. But I suspect he saw through us just now—we overplayed our roles."
"Did he?"
"Who knows, but he's a clever man. More importantly, what did you hope to achieve by making me play along? Were you trying to tell the subordinate who took your job that even if you lost your post, you gained love and domestic bliss?"
"I don't know." Gaspol exhaled a long breath. "Perhaps merely to preserve some laughable shred of dignity."
"His own marital life is plenty happy. Trust me, he wouldn't envy the marital dynamic we just staged; in fact, he probably detests such clamorous domestic life from the bottom of his heart."
"Enough. Thank you."
"Hey, if you still feel aggrieved..." Mavaglio rolled up the sleeves of his bathrobe. "How about I run out right now and give Karen a beating, just like last time?"
"Aren't you friends?"
"But you're my wife."
"I admit, I'm touched by that..."
"Then when can we actually try for real? Let's destroy that multicolored syringe once and for all. Just looking at it gives me psychological trauma."
"You can go beat up Karen now to vent my anger."
"You really want me to go?"
"Didn't you just offer to beat him up?"
"Anyone else wouldn't dare strike back, but I think he would... He just collected so many heads out in the desert."
"Heh."
Gaspol gave a cold chuckle and stood up. "I'm going to wash up and prepare for the handover tonight."
"Hey, it's not that I'm afraid! I just worry that if something happens to me, you'll be left a widow. You know full well that as a widow of the church, you wouldn't be allowed to remarry, and having an affair would have to be done in total secrecy.
"Wait, what scoundrel would dare violate the solemn taboos of the church to sleep with you—and be forced to use a syringe on top of that?"
"Can we wait until I'm ready, Mavaglio? I never asked you to actually use that syringe. Right now, I just need it to give me a sense of security—the last sliver of security. I just need a little more time, all right?"
"Of course."
In high spirits, Mavaglio sat back down, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and immediately spat it all out:
"Damn it, you dropped another cigarette butt into my tea!"
...
The handover ceremony took place in the grand auditorium of the Whip of Order headquarters building. Gaspol stood at the podium first to deliver her address. According to standard protocol, this was the moment she should summarize her accomplishments during her tenure. However, her time in office had been far too brief, and throughout that fleeting period, she had been almost entirely sidelined.
Yet the awkwardness one might have expected never materialized. Seated in the front row, Karen took the initiative to applaud at every key juncture, and all the priests throughout the auditorium followed suit in unison.
At that moment, the last trace of resentment within Gaspol dissolved. She admitted that Karen's manner—strictly observant of etiquette to your face while keeping all real authority firmly in his grasp behind your back—had once put her through sheer torment.
Yet in this auditorium, the entire Whip of Order of the Yorktown Region was not so much bidding her farewell as welcoming their true leader onto the stage.
She had nothing to feel bitter about. She had lost, completely and utterly. Hadn't the reason she never openly clashed with him in the beginning been that she knew full well she couldn't outmatch him anyway?
Gaspol stepped down from the stage. Mavaglio came forward to take her hand, and she returned his smile. Before the public, the couple skillfully performed the picture of marital harmony.
A department head dispatched from the Dinge Region read aloud the appointment of the new Regional Chief. This time, there was not the slightest surprise.
Karen adjusted his divine robes and rose to his feet.
Inside the grand auditorium, every priest stood, and thunderous applause echoed through the hall.
Karen walked steadily onto the stage, turned, and faced the gathering.
The entire hall fell instantly silent.
The memories of boarding the steamship from Ruilan to Wien remained as vivid as yesterday. And now, he was the Regional Chief of the Church of Order's Yorktown Region.
Karen swept a grave gaze across the assembly and said in a deep voice:
"Wield the Whip."
Every priest in the auditorium, Gaspol included, raised their right hand, formed a fist over their heart, and shouted in unison:
"For Order!"
—
*(End of this volume)*
Chapter 750