The God of Order's Revelation (End)

This sight was stamped into the minds of the Whip of Order Legion soldiers below like a spiritual brand. If they survived to return from this war, this image would stay with them for the rest of their lives. The Chains of Order flailing and venting in all directions, the bone dragon roaring its command—it resonated flawlessly with the scene before them and the unfolding situation, striking them with a singular, overwhelming impact. Some people had to rely on deliberate rituals and theatrical displays to heighten their mystique in pursuit of status and prestige. Others concealed nothing and feigned nothing; a simple, unfiltered outpouring of genuine emotion was enough to strike awe into the soul. Karen possessed traits identical to the God of Order. What could possibly move believers of Order more deeply than that? Though the soldiers were entirely unaware of the reason—incapable even of fathoming where it came from... The moment Karen fully entered the perspective of the God of Order and roared the command to "attack," it did not diminish in the slightest the profound emotional and religious resonance they felt! After all, similar scenes had played out countless times in the previous era. Back then, beneath the divine decree of the God of Order, their forebears had launched wave after wave of resolute charges against anything that dared stand in the way of Order. The Whip of Order Legion—this war machine formed by the Whip-Wielder pulling elites from across the department and drilled and integrated by Neo—was finally set into full motion. "Raise shields!" Ventura transformed into a stone giant, standing in the center of the formation's front rank. Raising his colossal shield, he planted it forward. *Clang!* In an instant, every shieldbearer hoisted their shield. What they erected was the outermost defensive line of the battle formation. Once this line was established, it meant that for an enemy to harm anyone within the formation during battle, every single shieldbearer would have to die first. It was both an active measure and a passive burden, for the formation's system distributed incoming attacks and damage across every shieldbearer. In the strictest sense, it was a battle formation's armor wrought from flesh and blood. "Advance!" *Thud! Thud! Thud!* The battle formation began to march forward in orderly, uniform cadence. Every descending footfall sent a tremor through the earth, radiating a torrential, whistling pressure. On both flanks, the cavalry had already begun to maneuver, constantly shifting directions to hone the momentum and condition of riders and warhorses alike. This time, they were the attackers, and what they awaited was the right moment to spear through the lines. Just like the shieldbearers, the cavalry were destined to plunge forward without pause unless they received a retreat order from the commander. Even if most of them died with their corpses intact, they still lacked the qualifications to enter the First Knight Order. Yet they held fast to the belief that their will and faith would arrive at the encampment of the First Knight Order after death, awaiting the next summoning. One magic crystal cannon after another had already taken up prime firing positions. Kevin sat perched atop a high platform erected specifically for him in the center of the artillery battery. Surrounding him stood eight priests, divided into four pairs. Each pair consisted of two people: one holding pen and paper to observe and record, and the other holding small spell flags, poised to signal semaphore. Before Kevin lay an alphabet board and a number board, allowing him to rapidly convey instructions once his senses locked onto targets. At that moment, facing the Whip of Order Legion was the Legion of the Church of the Earth—and the Church of the Earth's forces had their backs turned completely toward the Whip of Order Legion, arrayed in an offensive posture toward the front. Standing upon the Whip of Order Legion's positions, one could even look out and spot the logistical support personnel ferrying supplies toward their frontline, many of them clad in the robes of the Church of the Desert. In addition, a contingent of casters who had just finished casting spells to summon the giants had fallen back to this area to rest and receive treatment from priests. These Earth priests and Desert auxiliary troops stood up one after another, staring back in stunned disbelief. Several priests even floated into the air, desperate to survey the entire battlefield. Expressions of varying degrees of horror washed over their faces. Some were shocked that a legion of Order had materialized behind them, while others realized on a deeper level what the presence of this legion spelled for them. It meant the encirclement so meticulously laid by the allied forces of Earth and Life had been reduced to a farce. It meant the deployment of the Life Forbidden Net and the Wall of Weeping was now a joke. It meant they had laid their most vulnerable flank bare before their enemy. This was not a fair fight. It never had been. In this localized theater where two army corps clashed, the Whip of Order Legion held an overwhelming array of advantages. They possessed lavish equipment superior even to standard legions of Order, and their individual combat readiness was exceptionally high. Purr, who was responsible for serving as the decoy, had been a legendary adventurer two hundred years ago—someone who had roamed the major orthodox churches and escaped unscathed even under pursuit by temple elders. Their de facto supreme commander was the "Mad Pope" from over a millennium past. As for their nominal supreme commander, it was the "God of Order." Ace corps with their own knight orders were accompanied by temple elders; the Whip of Order Legion was accompanied by an evil god. Now, the crucial turning point that would dictate the course of the battle was at hand. For the Whip of Order Legion, already in an ideal firing position, to crush their foes with maximum efficiency and devastating fury, everything hinged on this first round of artillery fire. The initial barrage was often the most lethal, as the enemy had no time to react or mount countermeasures. Yet at the same time, achieving a flawless strike on the opening salvo was extraordinarily difficult, for artillery required rounds of calibration and adjustment, during which the enemy could seize the lull to respond. For the battle at hand, the best outcome would be to shatter the Earth Legion in a single blow, then press the advantage to rout the Life Legion. The worst outcome would be a botched execution that allowed the Earth Legion a chance to regroup and hold their ground until reinforcements from the Life Legion arrived. If that happened, all their prior preparations and efforts would go to waste, squandering an opening that couldn't have been better. Atop the platform, the eight priests surrounding Kevin wore solemn expressions. They knew full well how heavy their responsibility was. Yet what made them nervous was that this golden retriever, upon whom everyone pinned their hopes, was currently twitching. They instinctively assumed something had gone wrong with their canine battalion commander, causing them to twitch with tension as well. It felt very much like Purr trapped inside the encirclement, praying for salvation, suddenly sensing that Karen was suffering a severe mental breakdown—enough to scare anyone out of their wits! "*Urrgh, urrgh, urrgh...*" Kevin let out continuous low growls from his throat. His twitching was born of pure excitement. Unlike what the other priests felt, he could clearly sense the underlying components within the aura and the command above. In Kevin's heart, there had always been a regret: in the previous era, he had ascended to godhood quite late, near the end of the era. He had missed the early divine wars fought by the Light and Order camp, and he had missed the schism between Order and Light... By the time he achieved godhood, the God of Order had already begun his reign of supremacy. Thus, he deeply regretted missing the chance to fight alongside the God of Order in those divine wars due to his late ascension. Now, he suddenly felt that the opportunity to make amends for that regret had arrived. Kevin's divine sense had already swept outward. His dog paw swiftly tapped positions across the two boards. The four recording officers beside him breathed an immediate sigh of relief. They quickly jotted down the coordinates and handed them to the signalers, who waved their flags in rapid sequence. Then... dust and sand billowed from the earth, and the entire world plunged into silence. The deafening roar of the magic crystal cannons swallowed everything. Even though eardrums and minds were dazed by the violent reverberations, the surroundings seemed to sink into a bizarre, dead hush. Beams of magic crystal artillery shot into the sky, then arced downward. The primary target Kevin designated for the opening strike was the position of the Earth Legion's array masters. Array masters were the cornerstone of assembling and maintaining a battle formation, the baseline guarantee of an entire legion. Physically, they were generally frail and had poor self-defense capabilities, but without them, five fingers could never form a fist. The Earth Legion's attention was still fixed forward. All their defensive measures were designed to withstand assaults from the front. But this barrage was a dense curtain of beams descending from behind. *Boom! Boom! Boom!* Against such a terrifying volley of concentrated magic crystal artillery, temporary defenses were like wet paper unless a robust, pre-established defensive network was already in place. Standing atop the head of a giant, Nibula, commander of the Earth Legion, could only watch helplessly as a section of his legion was ruthlessly plowed by artillery fire so dense it bordered on psychotic! His jaw dropped, staring in total disbelief. In that single instant, nearly ninety percent of the array masters in his legion... were vaporized. No one could endure such horrific artillery fire in such a cramped, concentrated area. Even a temple elder caught there would be "equalized" like the rest. Nibula clenched his fists, wishing this barrage had targeted him instead of suffering such an agonizing loss in a single stroke. In truth, he had been well within the sweep of Kevin's divine sense. Kevin had briefly considered attempting to blow away the enemy supreme commander with the first barrage. After some thought, however, he had opted against it, choosing to bombard the array masters first. This was not the assault on the Chia Grand Canyon. The canyon's unique terrain and defensive layout had given its command post disproportionate importance, making its destruction paramount. Here, it was an open ground engagement. Even if they obliterated the enemy commander right away and threw the enemy into temporary chaos, these people were believers and priests. They were not common bandits whose simple organization meant their morale collapsed at the first sign of trouble. If the commander fell, someone might immediately step up to assume command. And even if no one took over in time, the individual units of the legion would continue to function on instinct, posing no small obstacle to the oncoming charge of Order. The moment the first barrage concluded, Kevin laid out new coordinates. The signalers quickly transmitted the order. It wasn't a standard creeping barrage to clear the way for advancing troops, but another set of precision strike coordinates. This time, the bombardment targeted the casters. They weren't packed as tightly as the array masters, scattered instead across several locations on the battlefield. But that posed no issue; Kevin's presence was the equivalent of granting map-wide vision over the local theater. No matter where these darlings gathered, Kevin pinpointed them with flawless precision. One couldn't call it cheating, for the Whip of Order Legion genuinely possessed an evil god. Yet for a force holding an actual "deity" in an era devoid of gods, being reduced to using his powers merely to scout the map... was its own deep sorrow. After all, had Raniedal been at his peak, there wouldn't even have been a need to fight this localized engagement. Just look at the immense price the Church of Samsara had paid to suppress the chaos when Rielsa's remnant body broke out from the Gate of Samsara. The Earth Legion's casters received special treatment. Although they had raised their guard and scrambled to evade, and the legion's dispositions were shifting, having the second volley zeroed directly on them still inflicted devastating casualties. After all, they were much like array masters. Other priests, bolstered by robust physiques and the protection of monster beasts, could still cling to life and even manage effective evasions as long as they weren't caught dead-center in the blast radius. But for casters, whose physical conditioning was largely on par with ordinary mortals, even if they were outside the lethal radius, being swept by shockwaves and thrown violently could leave them bleeding, broken, or knocked unconscious. Nibula began to suspect there was a nest of traitors within his legion feeding coordinates to the enemy. Yet judging by the sheer precision and speed of the two volleys, he doubted even he, the supreme commander, could have leaked information with such terrifying efficiency. He looked up instinctively at the sky, feeling as if an eye were watching over everything in his legion from above. That canine eye closed. A dog paw pushed forward, looking thoroughly satisfied yet exhausted. The surrounding signalers immediately relayed the order: shift fire forward to pave the way for the legion's charge. Kevin licked his lips and shook his balding head. Exhausted though he was, he still flashed the warm, trademark smile of a golden retriever. This counted as having fought alongside the God of Order, didn't it? Kevin smacked his lips. Looking up at the bone dragon in the sky, which had turned completely pitch-black, he thought to himself: *Are You... all right?* ... Neo issued the command to charge. Radical as he had been, reality had proved more radical still, for even in the memories of the Mad Pope, there had never been a battle where an evil god served as an artillery spotter. Back when the Church of Light still stood, it had commanded legions far more lavishly equipped, but it had never possessed a military dog of such pedigree. One could only say that "high-information warfare" truly revolutionized the nature of combat. It made Neo feel that his "old-school command doctrine" was falling behind the times. Yet on second thought... hadn't divine wars involving gods erupted countless times in the previous era? All of this had happened long ago. His tactical thinking wasn't outdated at all; it was simply modern doctrine for an era without gods. It was just that once the gods returned, the "new" and the "old" would trade places once more. "Heh, damn fascinating." Neo had ordered the battle formation forward before the artillery even opened fire—an extraordinarily aggressive command born of absolute faith that the artillery would achieve stunning results. After the first barrage, Neo received the report from the artillery battalion and immediately ordered the formation to transition from a steady advance to a rapid march. Below, Ventura led the charge, setting a brisk pace for the shieldbearers, while the array masters, casters, summoners, and others in the center picked up their speed as well. After the second barrage, Neo reviewed the artillery battalion's report—which was really Kevin's report—and issued the command to "pursue and destroy." The enemy's array masters had been largely wiped out, and the casters, who might have bought time with short bursts of high-damage spells to allow their lines to adapt, had suffered catastrophic losses... Coupled with the fact that almost all of the Earth Legion's siege engines and war golems were deployed at the opposite end of the battlefield, nothing remained to halt the Whip of Order Legion's advance. "Attack! Attack! Attack!" Ventura held his shield high in his left hand and his spiked club in his right, breaking into a run. Every shieldbearer followed suit. The array masters in the center no longer attempted to maintain a dynamic defensive array; the formation was moving too fast to establish one. Before lines had even clashed, everyone had already shifted into "pursuit mode." The cavalry, who had been champing at the bit, surged past the infantry formation. Under the latest orders, they were instructed to abandon screening the flanks entirely and spear directly into the enemy. The black torrent split into several streams, plunging inside. Wherever they passed, every creature lacking the aura of Order was trampled beneath hooves of death. They carved through the battlefield, deliberately hunting down scattered pockets to trample, sowing maximum chaos and dealing rapid slaughter. Whenever they encountered organized resistance or groups that would require repeated charges to break, they showed no inclination to linger. Completely uninterested in tough nuts to crack, they simply bypassed them to target softer prey. Tough nuts could be left for the advancing battle formation behind them to grind into dust. Nibula sat slumped upon his command platform. He had already issued orders for the vanguard to turn the clay giant legion back, but gazing upon the chaotic rout before him, he knew it was already too late. He had lost—lost cleanly, thoroughly, and almost bafflingly. It was too late for the vanguard to pull back. The formation had been thoroughly shattered. Deprived of its protection, his priests could only wail beneath the hooves of the enemy's undead steeds, while behind them, the enemy formation had already appeared, grinding relentlessly inward. He patted the giant beneath him. The clay giant began to move, but instead of attacking the enemy, it ran toward the Life Legion. He was fleeing. ... Over at the Life Legion. Gelihaer spoke up, asking, "Brother, what in the world happened over at the Earth Legion?" Tartas's expression went from shock to calm before he muttered to himself, "Perhaps... their people accidentally detonated their own spell-reagent depot?" Hearing his elder brother's explanation, Gelihaer's eyes went wide. Then, as if reaching a decision, he reached out, grabbed the sage sprite perched on his brother's shoulder, and channeled life force through his palm to rip it away by force. "*Ah!*" "*Screeech!*" Tartas cried out in pain, and the sage sprite shrieked in agony. *Snap!* Once separated, Tartas immediately cried in alarm, "Not good! The Earth Legion is definitely under attack! The Order legion before us might just be a decoy!" Tartas then turned to look at his younger brother. In Gelihaer's hand was the sage sprite, which was currently grinning at him with an eerie smile. Gelihaer asked, "Brother, did you use the sage sprite for anything unusual?" "I... I used it for a divination." "Divination on whom?" "No one in particular. A divination on the outcome of the battle." "And the result?" "There was none. The divination failed." "Is that so..." A cloud of green mist welled in Gelihaer's palm as he said grimly, "Life—Extraction!" The green mist dissolved the sage sprite with rapid speed. Its body swelled, then burst apart—yet what erupted was not the sap of life, but a burst of black... flame of Order! Gelihaer pulled his hand back at once. His palm was scorched pale white, and he immediately began treating the wound. Tartas said in disbelief, "The sage sprite... this is... this is..." Gelihaer nodded, his expression grave. "It... was corrupted." ... "*Phew.*" Neo let out a breath. Although everything had unfolded according to plan, watching the first phase of the battle succeed still lifted the tension from his chest. However, something else was making him far more nervous: Karen, standing right beside him. After shouting that sentence, Karen had remained rooted to the spot, motionless. Neo asked in confusion, "What, that 'devour them' wasn't the revelation?" Neo stepped up to Karen and examined him closely, focusing particularly on the Chains of Order extending from his body. These chains seemed endowed with an eerie vitality, squirming faintly, flecked with spots of rust. "Fuck!" Neo blurted out a curse in sheer fright. He had just realized that his being able to stand here alive and directing the battle was an utter stroke of luck. "I'm so tired..." Below, Little Kanna's voice drifted up. She was covered in Chains of Order from head to toe, effectively reduced to a marionette, forced to bear all the strain while being puppeted. Neo immediately shouted down to her, "Don't move, and don't resist! Whatever you do, do not resist! If you resist, you're done for!" The Chains of Order Karen had unleashed this time bore traces of rust. These were no ordinary chains; they were seeking to impose Orderification! Neo surmised that perhaps the power of Light within him had kept Karen from feeling aversion from this perspective, or that the perspective defaulted to accepting his presence... allowing him to miraculously "survive" until now. Little Kanna shared a master-servant contract with Karen, and more importantly, she trusted him implicitly, devoid of any intent to resist. That was why she still endured. Yet all of this hung upon pure coincidence and luck. If Neo were to do what he usually did—playfully punch Karen in the chest or curse him as a "bastard"—expressing any aggression or hostility would cause the Chains of Order to wrap around him instantly, subjecting him to Orderification. By the same token, if Little Kanna below felt tired and tried to stretch or resist even slightly on her own volition, she, already smothered in chains, would be Orderified on the spot. "Your mother... sure bore a handsome son!" Neo took a deep breath and shook his head. "Just what caliber of God's Revelation is this?" ... After Karen shouted "devour them," his world plunged into silence. He felt as if he had returned to that rainy afternoon at Allen Manor, sitting on the steps, beginning his God's Revelation. Threads of silk stretched outward from him, plunging straight down into the center of the legion, then fanning out rapidly to brush against nearly every single soul. Everyone's movements, words, and even emotions were laid bare before his consciousness with crystalline clarity. It was a wondrous sensation. That profound sense of total control offered the ultimate intoxication of the spirit. Under normal circumstances, the longer this phase of God's Revelation lasted, the greater the future prospects of a priest. Back at Allen Manor, the duration of Karen's revelation had thoroughly stunned Mr. Bede. This time, both in coverage and duration, it vastly exceeded that occasion at Allen Manor—no, the two could not even be compared. Thus, although Karen neither spoke nor moved, his consciousness was utterly immersed in every detail of the battle. Only when the entire legion surged forward into the assault did this sensation gradually recede, and the threads began to draw back. Just as Karen assumed the revelation was concluding and that he would soon hear the words of the deity, an immense darkness abruptly swallowed his entire consciousness, as if the world were drawing its curtain... solely on him! *Roar!* A roar erupted from the depths of Karen's heart. The statue of Order formed by his hunger addiction grew wild and agitated, yet its frenzy managed to tear open a sliver of vision amidst the pitch-black void. It was blurry, impossibly blurry... Karen exerted every ounce of strength, yet still could not see clearly, knowing only that something was before him. Suddenly, Karen felt himself rising. His vision began to sharpen, and the first thing he saw was beneath his feet: he was standing upon the palm of the statue of Order. As the statue ascended, his body rose along with it. The statue was immense, towering and majestic. Then, Karen looked straight ahead. He saw a figure sitting there—a figure beyond any description of majesty, for applying such words to his presence felt like sacrilege. Before him, Karen was nothing more than a speck of dust. *Roar!* The hunger addiction continued to howl, venting its fury and defiance with an extremity that surpassed any struggle Karen had ever waged against it. Karen knew who this figure was. He was undergoing God's Revelation; the hunger addiction's reaction, everything around him, heralded the identity of this person. The hunger addiction continued to climb. No matter how it struggled, it remained insignificant before this figure, yet its ascent carried Karen higher as well. The figure sat there, his back turned to Karen. Karen saw a sword plunged into the ground before him... the Sword of Chaos. During the divine war between Light and Eternity, before the God of Chaos was slain by the God of Order, he had asked Order: *Will the world you seek truly exist?* The God of Order had picked up the Sword of Chaos: *I shall show you the coming of that world.* The schism between Order and Light occurred when the God of Order carried the severed head of the God of Light down Mount Anlamende upon the Sword of Chaos. Now, he was here, and the sword was here as well. He had sat here for countless ages, his divine form weathered by the erosion of time, like a crumbling statue. Karen could not see his face, for no matter how furiously the hunger addiction roared, it could not close the distance, much less reach the space before him. For where he sat, he divided what lay before him and what lay behind into two separate worlds. A desolate, solemn grief welled up in Karen's heart. Sensing Karen's emotion, the hunger addiction grew all the more hysterical. Karen lifted his head, looking past him—into the expanse before the figure, which was also the expanse before himself. He saw an unfathomable river of vastness beyond words. Within this great river, countless colossal points of light struggled to pierce through. Some were faint, appearing distant; others had already broken through halfway, their brilliance spilling outward. Within every point of light lay terrifying power and an aura that chilled the soul. The hints from the Spear of Eternity, the peculiar historical records, his own hypotheses—all of them were finally confirmed in this instant: The God of Order sat here alone, walling off an era, bringing forth this very world—an era devoid of gods. Karen had once felt immense disgust toward him, criticizing him harshly as hypocritical, cruel, selfish, and cold-blooded. Yet there was one thing he had to admit: whatever this god set out to do, he did. He had helped Light shatter the old world he despised, and then set out to forge the new world he desired. Though he had already been the supreme hegemon of the previous era, he had cast everything aside to sit here, enduring the relentless battering of the river of time, solely to bar everything he reviled on the other side. Even without Karen's emergence, he would never have succeeded, for the signs of decay upon him were not merely the loss of power caused by Karen's rise; sitting here was itself an unending attrition. He knew full well he would never live to see success, yet he had persisted without hesitation. Karen knew the picture before him was incomplete. He could not truly feel the terror of sitting here, facing the roaring fury of an era's gods, nor could he truly feel the agonizing torment of time slowly grinding away one's very imprint upon the world. He was merely an onlooker. With the hunger addiction as a bridge and the opportunity of God's Revelation, he caught a glimpse of this fragmented, rough tableau. Like the mountain of corpses beneath his feet—Karen could not see them clearly. Perhaps there were things he was not yet permitted to witness, things he lacked the strength to experience. The crushing weight of any single fragment would grind his consciousness to dust. Yet the feeling was undeniably real. *Order is decreed by me, and you must obey.* Those words seemed far more fitting here. They had not been spoken to his followers, nor to mortals; they were what he spoke, sitting here, to the gods. *Because I desire a world without gods, you are forbidden from appearing in it.* At that moment, Karen felt the hunger addiction growing weary. Parasitic within him, it grew stronger as he grew stronger, but his current self could not provide the capital for it to vent any further. With the hunger addiction's exhaustion, Karen's vision began to blur once more. Yet even now, Karen had not heard his revelation! Karen asked, "Do you have anything to say to me?" There was no reply. Gradually, the blurriness deepened. The river of time blurred, the points of light blurred, everything around him dissolved into mist, and Karen's consciousness was squeezed out step by step. He persisted, he waited, straining his eyes, trying to listen. He wanted his revelation—not for advancement, not for personal power, but simply to hear what the god would say to him. No, even if it wasn't addressed to him, just a passing word, a single sound would do. Yet until his vision plunged back into utter blackness, he received no sound at all. The final image etched into Karen's memory was that blurred silhouette. He sat there, with his back to Karen, and with his back to the world. ... *Hum!* Neo noticed the Chains of Order beneath Karen withdrawing rapidly, and the small bone dragon finally returned to its white hue. Karen slowly opened his eyes. Full of eager anticipation, Neo immediately asked, "Well? What did the God of Order say to you?" Karen shook his head. "Huh?" Neo froze. "You didn't hear anything?" Karen nodded, slumping down dejectedly. As if sensing Karen's low spirits, Little Kanna deliberately curved a section of her spine to give him something to lean against, making him more comfortable. Sensing that Karen's aura remained unchanged, Neo said in disbelief, "If you didn't hear anything... your God's Revelation failed?" Karen didn't answer, merely burying his face in his hands. "Hey, hey, seriously? It actually failed?" Though Neo had been envious of Karen receiving a revelation that would surpass his own, he didn't want to see Karen fail. "How goes the battle?" Karen asked. "The Earth Legion was routed in a single blow. Our forces are pressing forward to strike the Life Legion." Karen nodded. Neo consoled him, "Listen, even if it failed this time, it's fine. You advance fast anyway. At worst, there's always next time..." Karen lowered the hands covering his face. The dejection vanished, replaced by a profound and resolute gaze. He rose, walked to the skull of the bone dragon, and looked out over the battlefield ahead. "We need to hurry." Neo said, "Don't worry about that. We'll be ready for another assault shortly. Best of all, the enemy has no reinforcements. We have plenty of time." Karen said, "No. We don't have much time left." Neo nodded. "Right, I know, I know. Rasma won't give you much time. He's about to emerge. You need to have everything settled before he comes out. Relax, I get it, I'll help you." Karen shook his head, uttering a remarkably nonchalant remark in an utterly calm voice: "Rasma is nothing." Hearing this, Neo shuddered. The comforting expression on his face froze, for he suddenly realized that the aura within Karen was skyrocketing at a terrifying speed—exerting an immense pressure even on him! Karen's feet lifted from the dragon's skull, levitating into the air. Beneath his feet, a black starlight pattern appeared—mysterious, archaic, majestic, radiating a sacred and solemn aura. It was the manifestation of the laws of Order. Neo ground his teeth. "Ha! To hell with me, trying to console you!" Karen said nothing. Neo continued cursing, "Are you a child? Pretending you didn't hear the revelation and deliberately suppressing your aura just to show off in front of me!" Hearing this, Karen seemed to snap back to reality. He looked down at his hands, then down at his feet. "Oh. I just didn't notice it myself until now." *Clap! Clap! Clap!* Neo began clapping, praising sarcastically, "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. The way you show off could win awards in the film industry. Color me impressed!" "Heh." Karen let out a soft laugh, raking a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Our time really is running out." "Oh, really? Please, do go on. Let me adjust my mood so I can play along..." Neo had meant to keep mocking him, but Karen's next words plunged him into genuine shock—for the message they carried eclipsed every divine oracle since the dawn of this era! If made public, it could rewrite the mainstream church history recognized across the faith. Karen said, "I saw him. He is very tired." Neo's voice dropped abruptly to a low, cautious murmur, like the buzz of a mosquito: "What did he actually say to you?" Karen shook his head. Neo wore a look of realization. "So it can't be spoken aloud, right? Ah, I understand, I understand." "It's not that it can't be spoken. He truly didn't say anything." "But your revelation clearly succeeded!" Karen nodded. "Yes. Perhaps he simply felt there was no need to say anything to me." Neo spread his hands, utterly bewildered. "With the facts right in front of you, don't you see how contradictory that is?" "Not at all." "Listen to yourself! Don't you think what you're saying is absurd?" "Absurd?" "What else would it be?" Karen smiled, pointed to his own face, and asked, "Wouldn't whispering to oneself be even more absurd?"