Order, I Shall Soon Return!

Hearing this, Madame Tangli was neither excited nor surprised. Her reaction was placid, offering only a flat response: "Oh." Immediately after, the anger and gloom previously weighing on her heart seemed to dissipate all at once, leaving behind a touch of loneliness. Sidestepping Purr, she walked toward the castle. To Tangli, Diss had once been a beam of light in her life, a memory of her youth. That was something she shared only with those closest to her—like her husband Delon, or her grandson Karen. She was not about to lose herself in uncontrollable curiosity and delight just because Purr brought up something about Diss, even if it involved her. She was no longer a young girl. While she still reserved the right to dream, she did not do so in broad daylight. Watching Madame Tangli walk away, Purr sighed. She had harbored no ill intentions. In all fairness, this was only the third time she had turned back into human form. The first time had been accompanying Karen to the zoo after his surgery; the second had been showing off in front of that stupid dog; and this third time was right now. Once turned back into a human, one naturally wanted to do human things. Having finally run into someone from the previous era, she genuinely wanted to sit down together for a good chat and unload some private tales—and even if she had none, it didn't matter; she could always make them up on the spot. Yet now she suddenly realized that the era once belonging to her was long gone. Aseros, who had once carried her, was already buried beneath the sea. The one who had escorted her back to Wien last time was Aseros's descendant, Bernard—and Karen had reduced him to ash and scattered him to the winds. Closer to the present, in Diss's era, Diss was asleep, Rasma had imprisoned himself as warden, Theisen was dead, and that once-fiery young lass now had grandchildren about to marry and settle down. At this moment, Purr understood Madame Tangli's sudden loneliness, because she felt lonely now as well. What was the use of turning back into a human? The years she once knew, lived, and remembered were long sealed away by time. Becoming human again only made living exhausting; no matter how hard she tried to play the part, she couldn't summon enough genuine immersion. It was far better to stay a cat and sit on Karen's shoulder. Sensing the shift in Purr's mood, Kevin brushed his tail across her hand. Purr drew a deep breath, slowly let it out, and rested her chin back against the dog's head, saying nothing. With his paws, Kevin tugged the reins to bid the horse forward. As an experienced dog among experienced dogs, Kevin knew well that words of comfort were useless at a time like this. It took time—not for time to heal you, but for you to grow accustomed to it over time. Neo lingered in place with his hands shoved into his pockets. In no hurry to accompany Madame Tangli to Karen, he turned around and headed toward Count Recal instead. Before setting out, the two "great thieves" needed to compare notes and share expertise. *** Inside the study, Delon finally saw the pillar of the household arrive. He opened the door for his wife himself. Watching her walk in, he even hesitated over whether to step outside and make himself scarce, but on second thought, there seemed to be no reason to avoid them. Once Madame Tangli took a seat opposite Karen's desk, Delon stood beside her with his head slightly bowed. He stood while she sat, and though he was taller, well, the domestic hierarchy was on clear display. "Grandmother, a fresh shipment of fruit just arrived. It's usually hard to come by. Please try some later, and take some back for the family." Karen offered his opening pleasantries, bracing himself for the incoming storm. After Karen took his seat, Madame Tangli spoke: "Lord Regional Chief Karen..." Having just sat down, Karen could only rise again with a wry smile. Madame Tangli did not continue her sarcasm. Instead, she drew a rolled stack of documents from her sleeve and laid them before Karen. "Here are the application forms, the approval slips, and the rejection notices." Karen leafed through the pages. Inside were names like Richard, Kaixi, Aisen, Dake... a whole string of them. Recruitment for the militia regiment was open to the entire region. Because the pool of candidates was plentiful, it followed a voluntary application process. Those wishing to enlist had to submit an application and obtain approval from the head of their respective department. After all, some held important, specialized posts; raising the militia regiment could not disrupt the region's routine operations. Once that process concluded, the regiment's leadership would make their selections—and they naturally picked only the finest. Except for Old Delon, everyone in the Guman family line had submitted an application and secured approval from their superior. And then... the entire Guman family was turned down. Richard was now the office director. Even within Karen's inner circle, he was capable of pulling his weight, yet he was rejected. Uncle Aisen, Aunt Kaixi, and Aunt Luxi were all formation magistrates. While lacking in single combat, when it came to the regiment's formation branch, their expertise was among the absolute best. Probably none of the formation masters currently in the regiment surpassed them. After all, the higher-ranking and more skilled a formation master was, the less inclined they would be to join a military unit, and their superiors were equally reluctant to release them. Uncle and the others had it easy—their superior was Grandfather, so approving their slips was effortless. Even Uncle Dake, who crushed a cigarette butt into the lawn flowerbed every time before entering his father-in-law's house... his rank and capabilities were more than enough to serve as a squad leader or higher in the regiment's melee or auxiliary units. Madame Tangli said, "That is why I am angry, and that is why I had your grandfather come here." Karen rubbed his forehead. He understood. Grandmother's household had always been sensible. Particularly after both grandparents learned his true identity, given their character and the Guman family's values, they would never seek personal favors from their grandson, the Regional Chief. Knowing Grandmother's temperament, she wouldn't even have allowed her children to join the militia regiment and go off to war in the first place. What infuriated her even more was that while they had no intention of riding their grandson's coattails, they were blatantly subjected to discriminatory treatment precisely because of him. The nature of the matter was entirely different, and that was what stuck in her throat. "I understand, Grandmother. As for this matter, I will..." "You'll follow up? You'll investigate? You'll look into it?" Madame Tangli pointed at Delon. "And then send me home to wait for your answer? That official bureaucratic drivel—your grandfather has been spouting it for half his life. I'm sick of hearing it." Karen nodded, spread his hands, and asked, "Then I will handle it according to your wishes, Grandmother. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do. I will listen to you." "I want you to place them all into—" Mid-sentence, Madame Tangli froze. As if snapping awake, she looked at her husband, then back at Karen, and tapped her own forehead. "Oh dear, how did it come to this!" Delon immediately stepped forward to support his wife's arm, consoling her: "Let's just do as Karen says. Karen can handle it however he wishes; let's not meddle." "No, this won't do. I... Karen, you are not allowed to..." Madame Tangli wanted to forbid Karen from recruiting both Aisen's and Luxi's households into the militia regiment, but she couldn't bring herself to utter the words now. Otherwise, what had been the point of storming over here in a fury and picking a fight with that bloodthirsty aberrant demon? "Karen, your grandmother and I will be heading back now." "All right, Grandfather. I'll see you out." "No, no, you have work to do. Heh, we can get back on our own." Delon supported his wife as they walked out. Karen saw them to the castle entrance and watched them board their carriage. At that moment, Leon walked over holding a document waiting for Karen's signature. Karen asked, "Do you know who vetted the applications for the militia regiment?" Leon replied, "Naturally, it was intelligence. Director Richard conducted the first round of screening before submitting them to Muri and the others for final selection." "All right, I understand." After signing the document, Karen returned to the study and sat behind his desk. Clearly, Grandmother had been used in this matter. Someone understood her temperament thoroughly, successfully converting her reactive resistance into driving momentum. This person also had to know his true relationship with Grandmother, so it couldn't be Richard. Furthermore, since Richard was in charge of vetting the initial screening, this person had also possessed the authority to compel Richard to reject the entire Guman family... Karen picked up the receiver and dialed the Guman residence. Grandfather and Grandmother had just left; even if they flew, they couldn't possibly be home yet. Before long, the line connected, and Mr. Aisen's voice came through: "Hello, Guman residence." "Mr. Aisen, this is Karen." "Ah, Karen. Have Grandfather and Grandmother left?" There was no one beside Mr. Aisen. "They just left, Uncle." "Mm, I'm sorry. I was afraid your grandmother wouldn't agree." "You could have told me directly, Uncle." "Then your grandmother would have forced you to refuse." "Have you thought this through?" "Mm, I've thought it through. We all have. Opportunities like this are rare, and we want to go. Your aunt and I want to go somewhere that needs us, to be there with the kids. As for Dake, he greatly admires and appreciates you. He wants to follow you and serve, and Luxi supports him. In short, it's hard to explain the exact motive. Perhaps you could call it a midlife crisis—feeling that if we don't do something now, when we grow old, we won't have anything worth looking back on. We meet the vetting requirements, don't we, Karen?" "Uncle, it seems your condition has truly improved significantly." "Sigh, it's just getting harder to beat the kids. Formation masters truly are at a disadvantage in close combat." "You can set up formations in advance." "I'm considering that, but it'll have to wait for later." "Have you truly decided?" "Yes, Karen, it's decided. You don't need to worry about casualties. We are believers of Order, after all." "All right, Uncle, I understand." After hanging up, Karen rested his chin on his clasped hands. Just then, Neo pushed open the door and stepped in, a cigar clamped between his teeth. The cigars were specially procured by Allen Manor for Count Recal. While ancestors of other families could only receive offerings passively, the Allen family ancestor could puff his own incense. "Do you know why I'm here?" Neo asked. "I can guess." "Good, then I won't waste words. I don't want to be a babysitter." "You won't have to be." "So those people won't be accepted?" "There are many people from other regions trying to pull strings, and a great deal of favors have been called in to me. That is why I'm staying here at Allen Manor; I will remain here until you set out the day after tomorrow." "So we're still taking them?" "We have to. Their families and factions will be of use to us." "I don't like doing things this way." "Neither do I, but this is reality. Neo, you understand reality better than I do." "Cramming people in is fine, but I can't guarantee the job will be done well." "The job must be done well. In Alfred's financial plan for next quarter, the revenue from your militia regiment has already been factored in." "So..." Neo blew a smoke ring. "No room for discussion?" "There is room for discussion: open an extra five to eight hundred spots." "Heh, that's nearly doubling it." "Just split it into two divisions. You lead the original roster. Those from external regions pulling strings to get in will be placed in the second division. Once in the desert, separate the two. You take the originals to do what you need to do, while that other group stays behind to handle logistics for the Knights. Either way, they're contributing to Order." "If that's the case, I can accept it." Karen stood up, walked around the desk, and approached Neo. "By the way, one more thing. When our region's militia regiment departs, there will be a live broadcast via communication arrays. Manage the formation as you see fit—try to make it look impressive." "Isn't it too late to train for that now? Besides, we're going out to be bandits. Have you ever seen bandits in orderly military formation?" "The Wien Empire's colonial army—while they never do anything decent in their colonies, they at least look quite 'civilized.'" "Heh, does that mean I should custom-order tall red hats for everyone too, so we look like a line of lobsters marching? Our priestly robes are black." "Lobsters only turn red after they're boiled." "Fine, I got it. But as for you, if you ever get bored, you can put on a mask and come find me in the desert to have some fun." "I have to remain here. The logistical supply for each region is handled by that region. If I go, it will only be for one reason: to collect your corpse. I haven't presided over a desert-themed funeral yet. Don't give me the chance to try." "Rest assured, you won't. Dying in the desert turns you into a mummy, and that's not how I'd like to die. I'd rather rot in a bog." *** Late at night, Yorktown fell asleep. Above two tall buildings, communication arrays had already been erected. The broad avenue between them had been cleared and secured with isolation arrays. A regiment in orderly formation marched along the street. Cavalry opened the path, followed in sequence by shieldbearers, spearmen, archers, and musketeers; then came spellcasters, formation masters, summoners, priests, and more... The composition of the militia regiment was modeled entirely after the Knights of Order, only on a much smaller scale. Karen stood on the steps of the Church Affairs Building with Bern beside him. Flanking them from behind were department heads and bishops from the Whip of Order and the Regional Administrative Office. Bern asked curiously, "How did you manage to make them march so uniformly?" "Because the mental-type priests in the ranks activated Mind Chains." This was the method Neo had come up with. Achieving a disciplined, uniform formation on short notice was impossible, so he had everyone share awareness. Each person not only had their own perspective, but also their comrades' perspectives, allowing for microscopic adjustments to create an image of perfect synchrony and neatness. The only drawback was that it completely exhausted the mental-type priests. "Heh." Bern chuckled and looked up at the communication array broadcasting above. "It's been a long time since I felt such blood-pumping excitement. The High Priest is deliberately reviving the war machine of our Church of Order." Karen replied, "I'm inclined to think that our Church of Order's system was born for war in the first place." "True enough. But don't you find one thing rather strange?" "Which thing?" "The portents of the Gods' return grow more numerous and distinct by the day, and signs indicate that our Lord God of Order will be the first to return. For the High Priest to push through mobilization drills with such urgency seems somewhat peculiar." "It's preparation for the coming War of Gods. What is strange about that?" Bern shook his head in disagreement, but said no more. The regiment entered the array hall in orderly ranks, beginning the teleportation. Standing outside, Karen watched Neo, watched Peg, watched Fannie, watching faces both familiar and unfamiliar. This glance might well be their last, yet his heart could not gather sufficient reluctance or regret. People always regret failing to see someone one last time; yet in truth, people never know—and can never learn—how to face a final parting. *** "Heheh." Lango grilled meat while watching the live broadcast on the communication array before him. "The first to take a bounty head was you, and the first to organize a militia regiment and deploy it to the battlefield was also you. Terrifying capability, terrifying temperament, paired with terrifying luck. Why do I get the feeling you'll be the next High Priest of Order?" Lango decided that later he would write two reports to the Gatekeeper: one on how to curry favor early and build good relations with Karen, and another on how to assassinate and eliminate Karen beforehand. The former was something everyone did. The future High Priest of the preeminent religion was someone every Church was eager to befriend in advance. The current High Priest, Norton, had once served as a diplomatic envoy and still maintained good relations with several churches. As for the latter—who could say if a church might have a grudge against a future High Priest of Order? In that case, one truly had to find ways to avert risks. Assassinations were never uncommon. "Sigh, at my age..." Chewing on a steak held in hand, Lango walked outside. After leaving the desert, he had returned to Samsara Valley. From where he currently stayed, he had a clear view of the Gate of Samsara standing tall in the distance. Of the desert observation delegation, few had survived. Being one of the survivors, he had drawn criticism from other churches. Some had gone so far as to pressure the Church of Samsara to hand him over for investigation, believing that he—or rather, Samsara—had completely defected to Order. Consequently, the Church of Samsara had no choice but to recall him and keep him here—half under protection, half under house arrest—because even the Church of Samsara suspected he had sided with Order. "The world inside the gate was better after all. The Church of Order in the inner world was slaughtered until only remnants remained, while in the outer world, no one dares to provoke the Church of Order to their face." Lango raised his head, letting out another sigh. Right at that moment, a terrifying boom suddenly erupted. The entire Samsara Valley began to shudder as though hit by an earthquake, and many aged buildings collapsed. Feeling this tremor, many on the island—ordinary people and priests alike—felt dread welling up from the depths of their hearts, for it reminded them of the terror unleashed when Rielsa broke out from the Gate of Samsara. "Is some powerful entity about to come out from inside the gate again?" Lango dropped the beef, gripping the railing tightly with both hands as he stared toward the Gate of Samsara. The Gate of Samsara was slowly swinging open. When it had opened about a fifth of the way, it stopped. Samsara priests, the legions on the island, and the Samsara Temple all sprang into action, preparing for whatever terrifying existence might emerge from the gate. However, as a native of the inner world, Lango could clearly see through the modest gap that what lay beyond was not the scenery of the inner world! What showed through the slit was a thick, viscous blackness radiating grim slaughter and despair. "This opening of the Gate of Samsara isn't connecting to the world inside the gate, but to another... realm." Lango could only describe it as a "realm" for now, because that expanse of blackness did not appear to be a concrete place. The blackness began to bulge, as if someone within were using a hand to push aside the dark veil. The Gate of Samsara was colossal. It was majestic, magnificent, the most dazzling of divine miracles. Yet the height and size of this hand gave the impression that if it truly belonged to a person, their height would almost rival the Gate of Samsara itself. At this moment, many dormant forbidden grounds across Samsara Valley began to stir. Ancient spirits and skeletal remains that even the Church of Samsara could not command or dared not touch actively radiated soul auras. Statues of branch gods throughout Samsara Valley's Samsara Temple shone with light, and the divine artifacts preserved within the church began to vibrate. It felt as if an elderly, critically ill patriarch had suddenly been stimulated and was struggling to raise his head and rise. The hand continued to part the blackness, yet the dark mass refused to be pierced, stubbornly enshrouding the entity within. Finally, the hand ceased its efforts, and the Gate of Samsara began to close once more. The newly agitated Samsara Valley gradually sank back into the silence it had maintained for so long across this era. However, at the very final moment as the Gate of Samsara swung shut, a deep, majestic voice rolled out from within like thunder, echoing across all of Samsara Valley and bringing joyous tidings that electrified the entire Church of Samsara! A miracle! A miracle! A miracle! Even the Church of Samsara itself had never anticipated that after the disturbances from the Church of Order signaling the imminent return of the God of Order, the second to manifest such clear signs pointing to the return of their chief god would be them! For the Church of Samsara, heavily battered after enduring two successive wars, this was nothing short of miraculous news! Lango heard it. What that voice said was: "Order, I shall soon return!"