In the morning, Karen walked out of the rest lounge inside his office just as the maid, Xili, pushed open the door carrying a large insulated food container to set out breakfast.
Four cups of hot soy milk, ten fried dough sticks, ten tea eggs, ten large pork buns, twenty pan-fried dumplings, four bowls of small wontons, and several side dishes of pickles.
After setting everything down, Xili took her leave; she would collect the tableware when she delivered lunch at noon.
Though Karen had always preferred a hearty and filling breakfast, such a massive spread certainly was not meant for him alone.
Philomena walked in, took a seat across from Karen's desk, and joined him for breakfast.
As Karen had risen step by step to the position of Regional Chief, the original core members of his entourage had also climbed the ladder one after another. Several had become department heads or deputy department heads, and even the lowest among them held the rank of office director—and not a deputy, either.
Only Philomena remained a "team leader," merely shifting from team leader of the Department Head's Security Detail to team leader of the Regional Chief's Security Detail.
Her primary duty was sitting behind a desk placed right outside Karen's office door and keeping watch.
Outside the Regional Chief's office was an outer compartment, so Philomena technically had half an office of her own now.
Far from feeling slighted by this arrangement, she was quite satisfied with it.
After all, they could hardly give her a private office staffed entirely by clones of Richard, and she was simply incapable of handling regular interpersonal socialization and administrative work.
Although she had softened somewhat after personally sending off her grandmother, she remained aloof, cold, and solitary by nature.
Karen browsed through documents while eating breakfast. Sitting in the seat of Regional Chief granted him access to higher-level files, though many of them could only be read inside the office and could not be taken home.
Many officials routinely disregarded this rule, having grown accustomed to bringing documents home to continue working.
However, an incident had occurred recently in another region. After the former Head Bishop retired, the newly appointed Head Bishop launched a purge against him. The Whip of Order from that region stormed the former Head Bishop's manor and turned up numerous official files that should never have been kept at home. Currently, that former Head Bishop was being prosecuted for "endangering the Church's security."
At its core, the matter had little to do with work documents; they were merely the thin wonton wrapper draped over a power struggle.
If Karen ever fell from power, having his maid deliver breakfast to his office could just as easily be framed as "living a corrupt and decadent lifestyle, violating the principle of order and equality."
What this incident truly highlighted, however, were signs of collusion beginning to emerge between the resurgent Whip of Order and the Regional Administrative Offices.
The High Priest had built the Whip of Order back up in hopes of strengthening the Holy See's centralization of local power, not to foster new factions of regional protectionism.
To this end, the Whip-Wielder and several grand elders within their system had issued relevant directives demanding that the independence and purity of the Whip of Order be strictly safeguarded, signaling the approach of a new ideological rectification campaign.
Having just assumed office as the Regional Chief of the Yorktown Region, Karen had penned a report yesterday and submitted it upward, titled: *Keeping Historical Missions in Mind, Clarifying Present Responsibilities, and Envisioning Future Development*.
The entire text was meticulously structured, clearly themed, and cogently argued.
It traced the meaning of their mission through church history centered on the *Light of Order*, defined responsibilities based on day-to-day administrative experience, and anchored itself to both while examining the current reality of the divine church circle to look toward the future.
Many laymen might consider such a report entirely meaningless—nothing more than going through the motions. In reality, the simpler something appeared on the surface, the higher its internal threshold actually was.
To write it well, beautifully, with novelty, and precisely tailored to the needs of the senior leadership was a profound craft.
Sipping his wonton soup, Karen flipped through the Whip of Order's internal bulletin delivered that morning. Right there on the second page was the report he had submitted yesterday.
Even accounting for time zone differences, having it published immediately upon submission showed it had received high-level approval. Moreover, the very bottom line featured an endorsement from Andilao, Head of the Disciplinary Inspection Committee, directing the Whip of Order across all regions to conduct in-depth study sessions on this report.
Andilao was one of the three Academic Faction magnates who had met Karen at the lakeside estate and had personally accompanied him to see the Whip-Wielder.
Karen had not given him advance notice; seeing Karen's signature, Andilao had simply lent a hand to set the gears in motion. Having connections above truly made getting things done effortless.
"Heh."
Karen could not help but chuckle.
Philomena, who was dipping a fried dough stick into her soy milk, paused for a moment before lowering her head to continue eating.
Karen chuckled because he could well imagine the sour expressions on the faces of the Whip of Order leaders in other regions when they saw this report and its signature.
The very man who held the firmest grip on local Whip of Order forces—arguably the Regional Chief with the greatest real power across all regions—was leading the charge calling for everyone to preserve their purity.
He wanted both the substance and the face; his appetite was shameless to a fault.
Karen felt no psychological burden over it, however; he had written the report purely to fulfill an administrative obligation.
Presently, he had Alfred overseeing the big picture, flanked by Vic, the former High Priest's student, and Leon, the former Head Bishop's grandson, acting as deputies. Even though setting up the new departments was an intricate undertaking, they coordinated all parties and handled everything with consummate order.
It reached the point where Karen, as their superior, provided the best administrative support by simply refraining from micromanaging.
While that might sound unflattering, making it seem as if Karen were useless, in reality, a leader possessing the self-awareness not to issue blind commands just to assert his presence was rare indeed.
Still, Karen had his own duties to attend to. Writing reports to fetch the frisbee on behalf of the Yorktown Region's Whip of Order whenever headquarters threw it was only one part of the job.
He also needed to make continuous telephone calls or hold meetings via communication array projections with peers, high-ranking officials from other regions, and senior figures across other systems.
From time to time, he had to take the teleportation arrays in person to sit down and share tea face-to-face with others.
He had to hold up a protective umbrella to cultivate a better working environment for his subordinates.
The Academic Faction's network played an indispensable role here. When it came to providing help in times of dire need, expecting anything from that faction was near impossible; but when it came to adding flowers to a flourishing garden, every last one of them was extraordinarily eager.
Furthermore, his greatest backing came from that meeting with the Whip-Wielder.
Karen had long since read through many of the Whip-Wielder's speeches and essays. Blessed with photographic memory, he would casually drop a quote or two from the Whip-Wielder whenever conversing with others.
That thirty-minute "private audience" was like a stalk of sugarcane; Karen was determined to chew it until nothing remained but pulp.
As for when he would spit it out, that depended on when the Whip-Wielder summoned him for another private audience.
"This afternoon..."
The moment Karen spoke, Philomena's face showed a trace of agony.
"Heh, what's wrong?" Karen asked.
"Drinking tea again?"
Every time Karen went to meet people, Philomena had to stand beside him. It was dry and terribly boring.
"Yes," Karen replied.
"Sigh," Philomena sighed. "I still think our previous life was more interesting. Like when we were in the desert."
Karen said, "There is a saying: generals who truly know how to wage war rarely produce exaggerated casualty ratios."
"Why?"
"Because they don't need to take speculative risks. Through steady management and meticulous positioning, they can pocket victory safely."
"Oh."
"Besides, if I still had to go to the front lines and fight with my own hands now, what was the point of all the fighting I did before?"
"Oh."
Philomena drained the last mouthful of soy milk. The breakfast on the table had been practically cleared by her.
Karen asked, "Shall I have Xili prepare a bit more tomorrow?"
Philomena nodded earnestly. "Yes."
For those walking the warrior's path who relied on explosive physical output in combat, the body's food consumption was immense—especially since Philomena, under Karen's maternal grandmother's tutelage, was still in a phase of rapid development.
Karen's maternal grandmother knew this as well, frequently having Richard bring over afternoon pastries she had baked herself.
Karen's portion came in a small box; Philomena's came in a bucket.
Often, over the course of an entire afternoon, Philomena could polish off an entire bucket while sitting behind her desk outside Karen's office.
And that was on top of three regular meals plus a late-night snack, without missing a single one.
When other young men courted a girl, taking her to a high-end restaurant was already a substantial expense; in Richard's case, even this unpretentious volume of food alone represented a staggering cost.
During dinner at his maternal grandmother's house the previous evening, the grandmother had remarked right at the table about how massive Philomena's appetite had become, saying it felt like she was feeding a pig every day.
For some inexplicable reason, Old Master Delon had chimed in: *Raising pigs is quite a joyful endeavor, too.*
He had put on the nostalgic air of someone who had thoroughly enjoyed the experience in his day.
After that, the grandmother's face remained grim for the rest of the evening.
Having finished the internal bulletin, Karen looked over some of the latest intelligence regarding the desert battlefield.
After the Church of Order formally intervened in the Desert civil war, it recaptured nearly all the holy sites occupied by the desert rebels in the span of roughly three days.
Yet hardly any fierce fighting had taken place, because the desert rebels made no effort to hold the cities, abandoning the holy sites after evacuating supplies and personnel well in advance.
The Church of Order did not allocate forces to garrison the holy sites, handing them over to the Desert Church as a matter of course.
As soon as the forces of Order pulled back, however, the desert rebels launched immediate counterattacks. In an instant, half the holy sites fell once more; the Desert Church's performance was the epitome of an incompetent ally.
Before long, a second offensive began. The Church of Order launched renewed assaults against the fallen holy sites, and this time, there was no trace of their previous courtesy. Even though the rebels had already withdrawn, leaving behind only symbolic tokens of resistance, the two Order Knight Orders operating on the desert battlefield still laid siege in full conventional warfare fashion.
Karen had personally witnessed an Order Knight Order attacking the dragon race of the Church of the Burrow; under that mode of total warfare, practically everything was reduced to scorched earth.
The local believers—who were accustomed to switching their "primary faith" at a moment's notice whether Desert or Order marched in—suffered a catastrophic calamity.
The holy sites' infrastructure, array networks, and so-called historical monuments underwent destructive eradication by Order.
The Church of Order had never come to help the Desert Church stabilize the situation; they had come to smash the table. After all, that entire desert expanse was the shared foundation of both the desert rebels and the Desert Church.
An elder of the Desert Church stepped forward to publicly condemn the Church of Order's unscrupulous brutality; the very next day, his entire family was slaughtered by the desert rebels.
Meanwhile, the Church of Order was already setting aside a small parcel within its own faith territory to grant to the Desert Church so they could carry on their lineage. It was clearly intending to preserve the Desert Church in captivity like an endangered animal; perhaps a few centuries later, the Desert Church would become another "Sandy."
Because the Whip of Order was involved in intelligence operations in the desert region, Karen, as a Regional Chief of the Whip of Order, had access to a wealth of inside intelligence. He bore witness to immense "inhumanity" executed in the characteristic style of Order.
Yet Karen remained entirely calm within. Had he not secured the opportunity back then to set up outposts outside, he would in all likelihood have fallen into the hands of the desert rebels himself.
While he was playing his headhunting game in the desert, the rebels had used communication arrays to publicly execute the captured members of the Order Investigation Team before the entire church circle.
When people of the divine church circle indulged in methods of torture, they were vastly more creative than mundane bandits. Skinning and sinew-pulling were child's play; they could extract your soul to simmer and boil, or use soul potions and bewitchment spells to make you curse the doctrines of Order, revile the High Priest, and even blaspheme the God of Order.
Consequently, Karen, who had nearly become a victim of such "inhumanity," possessed neither the right nor the moral standing to condemn the current "inhumanity."
Karen spent the morning in his office reviewing documents, placing calls, and holding three brief communication meetings.
After lunch, Karen sensed the summons from the Laks copper coin and entered his lounge to receive a transmission from Luoya.
Afterward, he took Philomena out, heading not for the teleportation array hall, but toward the outskirts of the city.
There was an isolated barrier here. Upon stepping inside, one could see a massive training ground where nearly a thousand priests were undergoing high-intensity drills.
A closer inspection revealed that although their numbers were not even a fraction of an Order Knight Order, their deployment was modeled entirely after a military phalanx.
Dark Moon warriors and a cohort of Whip of Order squad members formed the frontline and close-combat protective vanguard, while priests drawn from other departments served as array masters, summoners, and spellcasters.
On the surface, Muri was in charge of training here, but the actual controller was Neo.
When Karen arrived, he noticed a carriage parked nearby. The carriage's owner stepped out at that exact moment and caught sight of Karen as well.
"What a coincidence."
"Indeed, what a coincidence."
"Come, join me inside for a moment."
Head Bishop Bern gestured for Karen to board the carriage. Once Karen sat down, Bern spoke up. "The training results look quite good."
Karen replied modestly, "They still can't compare to the garrison, after all."
Bern shook his head. "The garrison looks disciplined, but at its core, it still carries an element of showmanship. It can't match a regular knight order. Knight orders are continuously drilled through live-combat maneuvers. The reason monster beasts aren't completely wiped out in certain pioneer spaces, allowing them chances to reproduce and even evolve, is precisely to preserve battlegrounds for tempering troops.
"I met the person in charge of training here. His personnel file is fake."
Karen replied placidly, "Yes, I fabricated it."
By now, Karen could easily vouch for a forged identity.
"Where did you find this talent?"
"Just good luck."
"I rather like him—an individual who is both passionate and gloomy. He reminds me quite a bit of my younger self."
Karen thought to himself: *That's because both of you spent a long time working undercover.*
"Do you intend to have him lead this force into the desert as its actual commander?"
"Yes, that is my intention."
"Mm, I have no objections."
"Thank you for your support, sir."
In theory, the Regional Administrative Office had contributed both personnel and resources to this small legion, yet Bern had not demanded personnel control.
"I have no objections to that. My only concern is... have you looked at the recent financial statements?"
"I have."
"What did you think?"
"Fortunately, our Church doesn't have a bankruptcy system."
"Heh, my thoughts exactly. Outfitting these thousand men comes at great expense, but it's not unmanageable.
"The greatest drain lies in setting up your new department. Those professors and instructors from Order University have monstrous appetites. Every project office demands a full suite of top-tier, cutting-edge equipment.
"Our Yorktown Region is among the better-off regions under our Church's banner. Any ordinary region would have been dragged to ruin long ago."
Karen said, "Let us satisfy them as much as possible for now; after all, we still rely on them to build the framework."
Bern nodded. "Once the framework is built, we can handle the dismissals. Some people really are only suited to living in academia."
"Understood, sir."
"Very well, I shall take my leave now."
"Safe travels, sir."
Bern departed in his carriage.
Neo walked over at that point and said with a grin, "He was just trying to bluff out my identity."
Karen said, "It's an occupational habit of his."
"What, here to inspect the training results?"
"Bern said you trained them well, so my mind is at ease."
"You mean you didn't fully trust me before?"
"I favored personal ties earlier, but now I've discovered that Mr. Philias's memories truly hold a great deal of valuable knowledge."
"Not just Philias, but the bloodthirsty aberrant demon, and old Philias as well..." Neo poked his forehead with a finger. "Having plenty of old folks in your head has its perks, after all."
"And you don't even have to support or wait on them in their old age."
"Haha, quite true. By the way, has a concrete departure date been set?"
"Yes, deployments are already underway. I submitted a report requesting that we serve as the first batch of regional militia entering the desert."
Neo pursed his lips. "To be honest, another stretch of coordinated training would yield better results."
Karen was somewhat surprised. "I thought you couldn't wait any longer."
"It's a different matter. The better the preparation, the more thoroughly one can enjoy the game."
"We can't afford to wait. The financial pressure is growing heavy."
"Don't give me that. Is Yorktown Region's wealth really about to collapse just from maintaining a tiny militia like this?"
"The problem isn't just the militia. Setting up the new department is where the real spending lies. If you hadn't led the sweep of our local black markets when I took office and brought in a windfall, we might already be bankrupt by now."
"What does that have to do with me marching out early? Their equipment is fully purchased and training wear-and-tear is minimal. Are you telling me this is just to save on the daily food expenses of a thousand men?"
Karen shook his head. "It's not about cutting costs; it's about opening new revenue streams."
Saying so, Karen handed Neo a scroll.
Neo unfurled the scroll, probed it with his perception, and grew instantly excited. "Oh, heavens, things just keep getting more and more interesting."
Karen remained silent.
Neo rolled up the scroll, leaned closer to Karen, and laughed. "I truly could never have imagined you would hand me something like this."
"Are you that surprised?"
"Extremely. You actually gave me public and secret coordinates for the Desert Church's protected reserves, forbidden zones, mausoleums, and ritual grounds. You want me to go loot their temples and rob their tombs!"
"A living man can't let himself be suffocated by a full bladder. When we're short on coin, we have to find ways to earn it. Besides, war is terribly destructive; we're doing this to protect cultural relics."
"Hey, hey, hey—given your status, do you really think it's appropriate to issue an order like this?"
"As Regional Chief, is it not perfectly normal to actively drum up side income so everyone's stipends and department operations remain unaffected?"
"I'm not talking about that identity of yours."
Karen smiled faintly and countered, "Where do you think all those divine artifacts in the sealed space came from in the first place?"
"Ha, fair enough. Turns out it's an unbroken lineage."
"There are things regular knight orders find inconvenient or beneath them to do. It's far more suitable and convenient for us to handle them, though we should still maintain a degree of discretion."
Neo waved a hand dismissively. "Rest easy, that's my specialty."
"Furthermore, once you lead the militia into the desert, I'll find a way to procure a second batch of intelligence for you. The various major churches have been quietly supporting the desert rebels behind the scenes to wear down our Church of Order."
Neo laughed. "That's an open secret. The major churches are even bickering publicly over it—how many war machines one church must provide, how many desert believers another must help train, how many desert refugees the rest need to take in.
"Why, high-ranking leaders from those churches have even been sneaking off to the desert to hold private summits with rebel commanders, splashing it all over their internal newspapers without shame."
"The Whip of Order's upcoming intelligence efforts will focus on pinpointing their supply transit hubs and personnel transit points. I'll find a way to sync that intelligence with you."
"Tsk, those locations might not even be inside the desert."
"There's no need for you to confine yourself strictly to the desert, either. Leverage the conditions on the ground, make use of the knight orders' temporary teleportation arrays, and strike out into the perimeter to launch ambushes and raids."
"That would require connections within the knight orders."
"I'll attempt to arrange it. One of my mentors is a retired deputy commander of a knight order, and I briefly worked alongside a commander currently leading troops in the desert. We aren't close, but I imagine he'll be willing to grant a small convenience."
"Aren't you afraid of escalating the situation too far?"
"It won't be members of Order attacking them anyway. It'll clearly be Light remnants who can't bear having all the spotlight stolen by the desert war, growing restless and stirring up trouble to assert their existence."
"Hahaha, damn it, I knew it! The Light remnants again!"
"Which is why you're the best person for the job."
"Fighting battles, looting temples, robbing tombs, and carrying out perimeter raids... Karen, I'm leading a militia, not a regular knight order. I only have a thousand men under me, not ten thousand.
"Come on, teach me: how am I supposed to pull off so many things?"
Karen shook his head. "That day in the bedroom at Allen Manor, you told me yourself: once on the battlefield, you wouldn't take orders from me."
Neo: "..."
"I only care about results. The cash flow for my new department's reforms rests entirely on your shoulders now."
"So I'm out breaking my back just to provide for you?"
"Without my backing from the rear, you wouldn't have the chance to play on such a grand stage either."
"Fine, but there's someone in a coffin I need to take along."
"Count Recar?"
"If we're getting into the piracy business, how could we not bring a great pirate along?"
"He's busy relocating graves back at his family estate lately."
"I'm certain that when he was down on his luck in life, he would have dug up his own ancestral tombs if you asked him to. That's basic professional etiquette for a pirate."
"You can't let him fight. If he gets into a single scrap, he'll be laid out flat."
"I know, I'll keep an eye on him."
"I'll notify him to rendezvous with you before setting out. Anything else you need?"
"I recall the skeletal remains of that grand necromancer are still kept at Allen Manor. If our team had her, it would solve our manpower shortage quite nicely. For instance, she could summon the tomb's master right out of their grave to help haul their own burial goods."
"I haven't decided whether to awaken her yet. Her identity is delicate—she was once part of the High Priest's personal entourage, after all. I worry that having her active out in the open might draw unwanted attention from the higher-ups."
"Then that's all. Your stock is still too scarce; you really ought to acquire more merchandise."
"It's not that simple. When elite high-ranking figures die, they enter the First Knight Order."
"Hahaha!" Neo burst out laughing. "True enough. Alright, that settles it. Don't worry, I'll give it everything I've got and make sure that when we're through digging up the desert, nothing is left but sand."
"On that front, I have never doubted your ability. Furthermore, there's another individual who might be able to lend a hand for your operation. Although I haven't asked it yet, there's no need—it's certain to wag its tail in agreement."
"Tail? You don't mean that black cat of yours, do you?"
"A great explorer, thoroughly familiar with the rules of most secret realms and forbidden zones. With it around, leading people inside to clear things out will feel as effortless as returning home, drastically increasing the efficiency of our cultural relic preservation."
"I don't doubt its experience and competence in that domain, but can you really bear to send it onto the battlefield with me?"
"Yes."
"Hey, if it were still human, I'd have full confidence in its survival skills—after all, not even temple elders could successfully hunt it down.
"Right now, though, it's just a cat. A cat that can talk and toss fireballs.
"Battlefields are unpredictable. Whether even half of these thousand men in training make it back alive is anyone's guess. If I slip up for even a moment, that cat of yours might... die on the spot."
"I've obtained the latest surgical plan. As long as the operation succeeds, it will gain the ability to temporarily transform back into human form."
Neo teased, "You'd send it straight to the battlefield the moment it can briefly turn human again?"
"I'm reluctant, of course."
Karen did not want Purr heading into danger; it was the "pet" Diss had entrusted to him to safeguard with care. If possible, Karen wished it could spend its days leisurely enjoying afternoon tea and sipping coffee.
"Then why..."
"Because I know that once it regains that ability, it will be like a prisoner emerging from a century-long sentence—desperately longing to go out, wander, and see the world."
Chapter 751