Marching to War with a Coffin!

"After Her Highness Ophelia told me about this, I thought about it all night, but I still couldn't decide what I should prepare for you. So I could only make do by putting these together first." Eunice pointed to the towels, washbasin, tableware, and toiletries set out on the blanket. Karen also noticed a wide-bottomed, rounded vessel standing there. After a moment's thought, he realized it was a Wien-style spittoon—or chamber pot. These were the gifts his fiancée had prepared for him before he marched to war. Mmh, very practical. A faint curve formed unbidden at the corners of Karen's mouth. Eunice bit her lip and said, "Go ahead and laugh." "I'm not laughing. You put real thought into this." Karen reached out and pulled his fiancée into his arms. Yes, she had put thought into it. She could easily have prepared clothes, lucky charms, heraldic crests, hats, bracelets, walking canes, and other fine luxuries for him, or even hand-crafted them herself to play up notions of love and romance. Priests working on the front lines rarely wore useless adornments. Even an unassuming little trinket was often a magical artifact capable of turning the tide at a critical moment, and they were sometimes deliberately crafted to look concealed and mundane for surprise effect. Thus, Eunice had passed over all the conventional tokens a fiancée might bestow upon a departing husband. She could have feigned ignorance, of course, and chosen to indulge in self-satisfaction instead. Karen bent down, felt one of the towels, and said, "The fabric is very comfortable." "I picked the fabric myself." "I like it very much." This was no mere flattery. On a battlefield at the front lines, wiping one's face with cold water using a comfortable towel truly was a luxury. As for the spittoon... Karen had indeed seen it listed among the required supplies for frontline logistics. Although sanitation was always accounted for when constructing camps and latrines were certainly built, in extreme weather or when the enemy cast large-scale climate-altering forbidden curses, most people had no choice between battles but to stay inside shielded military tents, eating and drinking within. Running outside just to use the latrine at such times was simply impractical. During the last meeting when logistics duties were distributed among the regions, Karen remembered that one Regional Chief had been assigned "spittoons," or rather, chamber pots. When struck at a specific frequency, the item would emit light, serving in emergencies as a tool for distress signaling, communication, or friend-or-foe identification. Of course, the one Eunice had prepared for him lacked such enchantments, but Karen had no need for them anyway. After all, as Corps Commander, if things deteriorated to the point where even he had to pick up a chamber pot and start banging on it, the war would have devolved into an unimaginable catastrophe. What would be the point of banging then? He would either make a swift retreat or simply martyr himself for Order. "I had originally wanted to prepare some books for you, but then I thought better of it." "Why not? Go ahead and prepare them. I'll have Alfred pack them up for me." "Will you have time to read at the front lines?" "If there's a prolonged stalemate, there will actually be quite a bit of spare time. Besides, having the troops see you calmly reading can also soothe morale. And if war correspondents come for interviews, it makes for convenient staging for photographs." "All right, I understand. I'll have them ready soon and send them over to Mr. Alfred." "Thank you for your trouble." After finishing lunch at the castle, Karen prepared to leave. He had arrived in Neo's VIP limousine, but on the return trip, three more people joined him—or strictly speaking, four. Old Saman toyed with a new pipe, but because Karen was in the car, he suppressed his craving and didn't light it. Daliwenluo held a potted plant on his lap, his sapling planted inside. Perhaps he didn't realize how expensive the "Actor" red wine in the limousine was, or perhaps he assumed someone of Karen's standing wouldn't be short on coupons, so he was lavishly watering the sapling with red wine. Madame Gandiluo was the most reserved. After Karen issued his ultimatum, she had finally complied and moved, but that rift had left Karen consistently cold toward her. This filled her with dread as well as deep regret. As for the fourth, it was a small coffin containing the skeletal remains of the grand necromancer Morindi. Although her body had been preserved after death, it had shriveled and warped severely, allowing it to fit into a child-sized coffin. Karen's departure for the front was quite literally "marching to war carrying a coffin." Counting the cats and dogs already at the front, his entire household assets had practically been drained dry. After all, if he didn't use them now, was he supposed to bring what came from the coffin back into the coffin? Upon returning to the city, Karen did not rush back to headquarters, but stopped by the Guman family residence instead. Madame Tangli had long been waiting. The moment Karen walked in, he saw the entryway packed full of bags and bundles. These were parcels his grandmother wanted him to bring to the front lines. Her son and daughter-in-law, daughter and son-in-law, and grandson were all at the front now—and now her maternal grandson was heading there too. "Is it too much stuff?" Madame Tangli asked with polite hesitation, even as she brought out another large bag and set it down. "Not at all. It's no trouble along the way." "That's good." Madame Tangli rested her hand on her hip and looked at Karen. "Truth be told, back when I was young, I never imagined that in my old age I'd end up with a whole family loyal to Order." "Didn't they all come from your belly?" "Ha, that's asking for trouble! How can you say that? If your grandfather heard, he'd go back to the bedroom, lie on his side, and sulk again." "Grandfather isn't here anyway." When Karen entered the house, he had asked about his grandfather, and his grandmother had told him he was on duty and hadn't taken leave to return. However, even though his grandfather had used a shielding array to mask his aura, Karen had already spotted the tip of a shoe peeking out from a corner on the second floor. "How about... I go too?" "Hm?" Karen had just beckoned masked Old Saman and the others inside to help carry the luggage when he heard his grandmother's sudden remark. Startled, he hurriedly replied, "You should stay home and keep Grandfather company. Just wait for our triumphant return." Madame Tangli's gaze swept over the people entering to move the luggage, and she keenly noted that Karen had referred to Delon as "Grandfather" right in front of them, so she did not press the matter further. Only after Karen departed did Delon come downstairs, watching through the window as the VIP limousine gradually drove off into the distance. Madame Tangli teased him tartly, "I have no idea what you're being so melodramatic about." Delon answered, "I'll be there to see him off at the oath-taking rally tomorrow." "That doesn't stop you from doing it today." "It's different. How can one see someone off twice?" "Where did you pick up these ridiculous superstitions? Let me tell you, you are forbidden from having tea with those mystical quacks in the Divination Department from now on." "All right, all right, whatever you say, whatever you say." "By the way, those subordinates of Karen's who just came in to help move the luggage—do you recognize them?" "My dear, what kind of question is that? He and I aren't even in the same department. Besides, I have no authority over him—no, right now, he has authority over me! How would I recognize his subordinates? Is something wrong?" Madame Tangli shook her head. "No, nothing." *No souls.* *** Back in his office, Vic walked in carrying an exquisite black wooden box. "Regional Chief, this is a gift from the Whip-Wielder." "From the Whip-Wielder? What is it?" "I don't know, sir. I haven't opened it." "Open it and see. I hope it isn't Augie's baby teeth." Vic opened the box. Lying inside was a divine robe. The divine robe had a subdued luster bordered by decorative patterns. To the touch, the fabric was exceptionally soft, shimmering with luminous ripples that flowed like water. "Regional Chief, this is made from the feathers of the Huize bird, a very rare monster beast. Within our church, only those lords of the highest status are entitled to be issued robes made from them. This one must have been specifically requisitioned for you by the Whip-Wielder using his personal authority." "Quite expensive, I assume?" "Yes, extremely costly. Custom-ordering one requires not just an exorbitant amount of point coupons, but also a corresponding rank." "Let's try it on, then." With Vic's assistance, Karen donned the divine robe. Several arrays were embedded within it, one of which was especially distinct: when Karen activated it, an illusory projection of himself immediately manifested and continued to expand. Vic remarked, "It truly is a robe designed specifically for a Corps Commander, making it easy for your subordinates to spot where you are on the battlefield." Karen nodded and added, "And just as easy for the enemy to spot." "Have you decided which of us will accompany you to the front lines?" "I've made up my mind. I'm taking none of you. Affairs back home still require your management." "But someone must look after your daily needs. How about letting Xili accompany you?" "Bringing a maid to the battlefield—what kind of spectacle would that be? Do you take us for campaigning nobles from centuries ago?" Vic immediately lowered his head, acknowledging his slip of the tongue. After Vic left, Karen sat down, rolled up his sleeve, and tapped lightly with his fingertips. A little black coil resembling mosquito incense drifted out from his fingertip. In the contaminated burrow, Qianmei had suffered immense damage protecting him. Fortunately, Karen had safeguarded the last trace of its existence. After all this time, Qianmei had finally recuperated, though perhaps because it hadn't received a substantial nourishing meal recently, it was somewhat sluggish, lacking its former vigor. That problem would have to wait until they reached the battlefield. In that setting, finding suitable soul nourishment for Qianmei to devour would be far easier—and Karen could also feed his hunger addiction, which had been unusually well-behaved and hadn't acted up lately. "Do you like the material of this robe?" Qianmei circled around Karen before melting into the divine robe. Soon enough, it became the "artifact spirit" of the garment. The robe's phantom projection reappeared, but this time it shifted, forming the silhouette of two wings. "All right, make yourself at home here. You saved my life, and I haven't forgotten. I'll repay you, don't worry." The wings faded, and everything returned to normal. Yet the robe felt somewhat more tailored and comfortable than before—the effect of Qianmei's presence. Karen picked up the receiver and dialed. After being transferred through several channels, Miguel's voice came through. "Corps Commander, have you received the gift?" "I have. I would like to thank the Whip-Wielder." "The Whip-Wielder said there is no need for formal thanks. Furthermore, you must take good care of that person." "Understood." "Wishing you every success. We await your victory reports." "Thank you." Hanging up the telephone, Karen heard a knock at the door. "Come in." Daina entered in full armor, followed by Augie. "Corps Commander, what are your orders?" Instead of answering immediately, Karen looked past her toward Augie and asked, "Is Augie coming with you too?" Augie replied, "I'm returning tonight." Her bodyguard assignment ended tonight. Evidently, the Whip-Wielder had no intention of letting his mount protect anyone all the way to the battlefield. "If I meet your mother, I will pass along your greetings." Augie blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected Karen to speak to her so earnestly, and she immediately felt valued. "All right. Thank you." Only then did Karen turn to Daina. "Didn't you ask me for special treatment? I happen to need an aide-de-camp. You take the role." Daina's eyes went wide. "You call this special treatment?" *Wasn't an aide-de-camp just someone who waited on his daily needs?!* "Is it not?" Daina huffed indignantly. "I need an explanation." "Do you want the real reason or the made-up one?" "Both." "The real reason is that your identity remains sensitive, and keeping you by my side maximizes your safety. The made-up reason is that staying with me allows you to attend all strategic meetings, giving you better training." "Corps Commander, I am a warrior of Order!" "What is Section One, Article Two of the Order Knights Code?" Daina straightened immediately. "A knight's sacred duty is to obey orders!" "Do you need further explanation?" Daina clenched her fists. "I obey orders." "You don't need to attend to my daily needs. Just handle confidential documents and paperwork." "Understood, Commander." Daina turned and walked away. With her back to Karen, her mouth moved silently at rapid speed, unleashing a torrent of curses. Karen sensed it but ignored her. He felt her anger was entirely justified; she had been training as a frontline soldier all along, only to lose the chance to fight on the front lines. But what could he do when the Whip-Wielder had specifically spoken? He would just have to see how things unfolded on the battlefield. If conditions permitted, he could give her a taste of the front. *Sigh, I really am acting more and more like a treacherous sycophant.* *** Late at night, the newly constructed teleportation hall—already mostly finished—was brightly illuminated. High on the grand staircase stood all senior priests of department head rank and above from the region, while soldiers marched in with orderly strides. This served as the first official use of the new teleportation hall, though after tonight it would be closed again to continue construction, primarily because running and operating it was terribly costly. Dressed in his new divine robe, Karen stood on the steps bidding farewell to the priests led by Bern. His final glance fell upon Bishop Delon. Karen waved to the crowd and stepped into the teleportation hall. The colossal teleportation array flashed with brilliant light, encompassing the several thousand people all at once. At this moment, Karen felt no surge of excitement or grandeur in his heart. There was only a heartfelt lament: "What an utter waste." *** "Oh, here you are again, Commander," Ventura greeted the chubby Commander Senroer. After getting a taste of the benefits from imitating them the first time, this man had once been eager to relocate his own tent straight into the Yorktown Regional Militia camp. Later, when news of the Whip of Order's massive troop surge reached the front, his attitude chilled overnight. Not only did he stop his daily morning and evening neighborly visits, but he responded to Yorktown's routine briefings with perfunctory formalities, completely devoid of his former warmth. Yet the moment Karen was appointed Corps Commander of the Whip of Order Corps, Senroer brought his bedding over that very night, insisting on sleeping in Muri's tent. Now, everyone was waiting at the rear transit base for Karen's arrival. Faced with Ventura's sarcasm, Senroer raised a hand and recited with deep emotion: "Mercenary I depart, just as mercenary I came; I softly wave my hand, letting not a speck of mercenary gain escape." "Heh... hehe." Ventura was amused. Though this chubby commander flip-flopped like doing sit-ups, he wasn't genuinely obnoxious. Muri stood at the forefront with his hands clasped behind his back; until Karen arrived, he was nominally the chief in charge here. Neo stood behind him. This logistics transit base was not far from the camp. At present, the mission of Order's two unintegrated militia regiments was to protect this base. *Hum!* The teleportation gate formed by two colossal stone pillars began to hum into operation. A blue screen of light brewed between the pillars like a vertical ocean surface. Soon, figures emerged from within. All were priests clad in Order robes. Equipment, monster beasts, and other supplies could not be teleported alongside personnel, but everyone held items in their hands—assorted weapons, as well as backpacks and luggage cases permitted for teleportation. Thousands poured out, gathering on the plaza below in units of Whip of Order squads. Some sat, some stood, and others simply took out food and began sharing it, as if on a picnic outing. Muri noticed the murderous aura in the eyes of these priests and asked, "Is the Regional Chief among them?" Behind him, Neo said with utter certainty, "These are Whip of Order priests teleported from the Dinge Region." Neo was confident that if troops trained under the syllabus he had left behind turned out this sloppy, he would probably abandon his post right now and go back to assassinate the head instructors. At this moment, Scarlett, Regional Chief of the Dinge Region, walked over accompanied by Lorijes, her instructor in charge of training recruits and the Dinge Region's Head of Reconnaissance. They had come to conduct the troop handover and would return once it was complete. From a distance, Senroer took the initiative to salute: "Greetings, Regional Chief!" Once they drew nearer, Muri and the others also saluted. Scarlett smiled and said, "It seems our Regional Chief Karen—no, our Lord Corps Commander—has not arrived yet." Lorijes remarked, "Then let us wait a little longer. I need the Corps Commander's signature before I can report back." A moment later, rich blue light rippled between the stone pillars once more. Likewise, no heavy equipment accompanied them, and all wore divine robes. But not a single priest who emerged this time carried anything in hand—not a backpack or suitcase in sight. *Step, step, step...* Their limb movements were not strictly synchronized, nor was their formation seamless, yet the rhythm of their footsteps was astonishingly uniform. Furthermore, the priests at the very front were generally tall and brawny, clearly belonging to the physical enhancement sequence—shield bearers, most likely. Those who followed either had straps wound around their legs, wore gemstone patches over one eye, or had spell rings on their fingers, identifying them respectively as axemen, spearmen, and archers. As they marched out of the teleportation array in steady cadence, they projected a collective pressure. They had actually exited the teleportation array maintaining military corps formation. This immediately unnerved the priests from the Dinge Region who had arrived first. Their composition was identical—nearly a thousand local regional militia alongside three thousand Whip of Order personnel from the expansion spaces. Yet in contrast, the newcomers exuded the unmistakable aura of an elite force, while their own ranks looked like an undisciplined rabble. They instinctively began falling into ranks to save face, but trying to form up only made the chaos worse, as they were still used to operating in individual squads. Comparison breeds misery. Scarlett frowned, while Lorijes looked acutely embarrassed; priests of the Capital Region cared far more about face than those from other regions. Little did they know that the Yorktown contingent had been subjected to Alfred's ideological indoctrination and Neo's specialized training regimen. *Roar!* A bone dragon flew out from the teleportation gate. Standing atop it was Karen, with Daina right behind him. This ostentatious entrance was intentional. Karen viewed his role as a mascot meant to hold down the fort. And who had ever seen a mascot hide modestly among the crowd? Thus, whether Karen liked it or not, upon arriving at the front lines, he had to act domineering. When dealing with allied forces, he represented the prestige of the Whip of Order and the Whip-Wielder himself, meaning he might even have to dial up the arrogance deliberately. With so many eyes sizing up their new chief, even if he had to put on an act, he had to act like a commander. The small bone dragon made a smooth landing, and Karen stepped down. Scarlett stepped forward. After a brief hesitation, she offered a salute: "Lord Corps Commander, we are here to hand over our recruits." Lorijes presented the documents. "Lord Corps Commander, please sign to accept." Karen took the paperwork, glanced toward the recruits from the Dinge Region, and calmly asked, "According to the Order Knights Code, what is the penalty for failing a military logistics mission on the first offense?" Daina glanced left and right before realizing the question was directed at her. She immediately answered loudly, "Thirty lashes with the Thorns of Thunder whip for the officer in charge. Fifteen lashes for the superior officer for negligent supervision, along with a formal report to their department for follow-up disciplinary action." Head of Reconnaissance Lorijes was stunned. Was he about to punish her? Regional Chief Scarlett turned the words over in her mind: *Who is the superior officer? Wait... that's me?* Karen also frowned slightly. He had only intended to make an example of a department head from the Dinge Region to establish authority. Why did this young lady have to bring up the superior officer as well? Whipping the Regional Chief of the Capital Region on his very first day at the front... wasn't that pushing arrogance a bit too far? Still, now that the words were out, Karen could hardly start haggling over them here. He gave a slight nod. "Carry out the punishment. Furthermore, announce in my name to the Whip of Order in every region: from now on, whichever region fails in its logistics duties will be held accountable under these exact rules." "Understood!" Daina drew a deep breath. She uncoiled a leather whip from her waist. Her palms grew damp with sweat as she stroked its length—damp from excitement. "Order—Thorns of Thunder." Black lightning crackled along the whip. Daina stepped forward and tilted her head toward Lorijes, gesturing for her to lie prone. Lorijes looked toward Scarlett, only to discover that her immediate superior was already prostrate on the ground. Scarlett understood perfectly well that Karen was a Corps Commander appointed by the Whip-Wielder. Forget whipping her; even if he suddenly lost his mind and assaulted her in public, he was completely untouchable right now. The Whip-Wielder would never slap his own face so soon. Resistance was futile, humiliation inevitable. She accepted it. Lorijes promptly lay down as well. Daina licked her lips and raised the enchanted whip. *Crack! Crack! Crack!* After several lashes, the divine robes on both ladies tore open. Being a woman herself, Daina afforded them a shred of dignity by striking only their backs, leaving the rest of their robes intact. Still, the bloody, mangled flesh was harrowing to behold. Lorijes's back in particular looked like a freshly ploughed field. While Scarlett managed to stand on her own after her punishment, Lorijes, having received twice the lashes, had already passed out. Under the crack of each lash, the previously disorganized Whip of Order priests began dressing their ranks left and right, and the formation suddenly looked far more presentable. Killing a chicken to scare the monkeys to establish authority—everyone understood the ploy, but dread gripped them nonetheless. Mainly because the "chicken" held a terrifyingly high rank. After finishing the flogging, Daina exhaled deeply. How to put it? She still felt unsatisfied, as if she hadn't had her fill. Scarlett cast an illusion over herself, making a pristine divine robe appear, and did the same for her subordinate before scooping her up. Turning to Karen, she even offered a slight smile, doing her best to keep it warm and genial so he wouldn't suspect any lingering malice, projecting complete understanding. Promptly, the Regional Chief carried her subordinate through a nearby small teleportation array. While waiting in the transfer area, Lorijes slowly came to, hatred burning in her eyes: "How... how dare he..." "We failed our duty. Is being punished not to be expected?" "But he... he even did that to you... Retribution will find him..." *Smack!* Scarlett released her grip, letting Lorijes drop to the floor. Scarlett lifted her boot, planted it right on the wounds of Lorijes's back, and ground her heel into the flesh with forceful twists. "Ahhh—!" Lorijes shrieked in agony. Fortunately, this transfer area housed an isolated teleportation array, leaving no one around to witness the scene. "Regional Chief... you..." "The only way retribution finds him is if he suffers a crushing defeat here and loses the entire corps. Are you cursing him? No, you are cursing the Whip of Order—you are cursing me!" *** On the plaza of the transit base, Karen retrieved the official command decree. As he unfurled it, the enchantments of his divine robe took effect; his form expanded, towering and magnificent: "By order of the Whip-Wielder: Effective immediately, all personnel, squads, and units of the Whip of Order in the desert are reorganized into the Whip of Order Desert Corps. Corps Commander—Karen Silva." This meant that not only the corps here, but even the intelligence network previously operated by the Whip of Order in the desert, now fell under Karen's access and command, equal to that of the headquarters' direct departments. Having finished reading, Karen rested his clenched fist against his chest. High above, his massive phantom projection mirrored the gesture so all could see. Karen shouted: "Wield the whip..." *Swish! Swish!* Every priest present snapped to attention, placing a fist over their heart. Nearly ten thousand people across the plaza roared in unison: "For Order!"