The First Order

The conference, of course, was not solely about personnel appointments, even if those were the most crucial matter. In addition, new arrangements were laid out for the Whip of Order's future operational directions and key priorities, along with specific assignments. The number three figure presided over the meeting, while the Whip-Wielder kept his eyes closed the entire time. As the assembly neared its end, he seemed to only just awaken, saying to Karen beside him, "I'll be taking my leave first." This meant Karen had to remain. Karen nodded. "Understood, Whip-Wielder." When the meeting concluded, the Whip-Wielder rose and departed amid salutes from everyone present. Watching his retreating figure, Karen suddenly remembered their exchange before entering the hall prior to the start of the conference. His own plan to elevate Leon to the position of Regional Chief of the Yorktown Region was, to a certain extent, quite similar to the way the Whip-Wielder was promoting him now. Even though Karen had earned solid credentials and a mountain of military merit on the front lines, those achievements were honestly only enough to support his leap across social strata within this system—granting him a seat upon the rostrum. Yet under the Whip-Wielder's maneuvering, he was now the system's number two, leapfrogging past a whole line of seniors ranked before him. There was, in truth, an inherent shortfall in this arrangement. A shortfall had to be covered by other means. Just as Leon's deficit would be bridged by Karen's current status and influence, Karen's own deficit was offset by the Whip-Wielder's unrivaled authority within this branch. The dharma body at the celebration banquet, the series of deliberate gestures before the meeting commenced, the standing and sitting as proceedings officially began, and the laughter the Whip-Wielder had purposefully let out—all of it had been an iterative process of stamping his seal of confirmation. The most direct way to delegate authority was to demonstrate clearly to everyone in the system whose man he was. Such powerful backing saved Karen several years of careful maneuvering and political cultivation. Moreover, even when all preparations were in place, breaking through to higher positions on the rostrum was rarely straightforward. The Whip-Wielder had skipped that entire tedious prelude. Consequently, Karen's current standing within the system felt somewhat unmoored and surreal. With merit, experience, and talent, he was hardly a parasite advancing on luck alone; his own capabilities were more than enough to establish his footing. Yet when it came to preferential treatment, he had exceeded even the outermost limits afforded to mere cronies. How to put it? Accustomed as he was to clawing his way upward through the ranks step by step, suddenly receiving the utmost privilege left even Karen slightly disoriented. Still, he would not refuse it. Next, he mingled with the senior figures on the rostrum to foster good relations, then went down to interact and exchange words with the Regional Chiefs below, conducting himself with immense patience. Karen also agreed to stay for the small, high-level banquet scheduled for that evening. Naturally, the Whip-Wielder would not attend. In matters of seating arrangements and banquet decorum, Karen deferred entirely to the former number two, who was now number three. Having already secured tangible benefits, it was best to show modesty wherever possible to minimize conflict and foster solidarity. Number Three maintained a healthy mindset, behaving with warmth and amiability throughout the dinner. When the banquet ended, he even invited Karen, along with Number Four and Number Five, to his home to introduce them to his family. The men who had sat closest to the Whip-Wielder at the grand assembly shared a late-night supper under Number Three's roof. During the meal, Karen proactively voiced his high estimation of one of Number Three's grandsons and one of his granddaughters, stating plainly that such young talent ought not be buried and should instead be transferred to the Discipline Department in his Yorktown Region for proper grooming. At the same time, Karen expressed his approval of one grandchild each from Number Four and Number Five, personally requesting their transfers as well. Truth be told, with grandfathers holding positions of such stature, it would have been quite difficult for their talents to be buried in the first place. Yet this was an exchange of political interest—or rather, an exchange of political stance. *Since I have taken away your present interests, I shall compensate you with future opportunities.* Because of the Whip-Wielder's forceful intervention and push, the balance of power had shifted too abruptly, and Karen's leap to the front of the queue was excessively jarring. Consequently, the cultivation of a political tacit understanding—which ought to have unfolded with finesse, subtlety, and sophistication—degenerated in the rush into something resembling a livestock market's horse-trading. Fortunately, everyone understood the game and cooperated willingly; otherwise, there would have been no explaining why Number Four and Number Five had summoned their own scions here in the middle of the night just to pay a visit. Though it had all been rather hurried, the business was done. Just to be safe, however, Karen consented to spend the night under Number Three's roof. Everyone wished to project this cordial and united atmosphere among leadership down to the entire system. The next morning, after having breakfast with Number Three, Karen boarded his carriage and headed for the teleportation array hall. External business was largely concluded for now; next, it was time to go home. Holding a stack of invitation letters, Muri said, "Minister, there is also an invitation from Andy Lao in here." Inside the carriage, Karen shook his head. "Forget it. There's no time to attend to everyone." "Understood, Minister." The carriage did not halt outside the teleportation array hall but was permitted to drive straight inside. Karen did not need to step down at all; the teleportation array was primed, and the carriage drove into the glowing ring, preparing to transmit vehicle and passengers alike. The last time he had enjoyed such treatment was when riding inside the Whip-Wielder's carriage. Yet now was hardly the time to pause and savor the fruits of his toil. Today's *Order Weekly* had consecutively reported bizarre phenomena occurring within several religious factions. Apart from that, strange disturbances had surfaced in certain special regions. After all, not every deity had founded a church, nor had every church that was once established survived to this day. There were always gods who, seeking to return, found themselves reduced to solitary wandering spirits without worshipers. This raised a crucial question: would deities who possessed an enduring ecclesiastical heritage differ vastly in their manner and state of return compared to those who possessed none? Such questions were beyond what Karen could investigate on his own; he needed to consult professionals, or perhaps people from other churches. Karen thought of his partner from the Church of Principles, whom Neo had introduced back when Neo was in the hospital. For a long time afterward, that partner had merely become Richard's pen pal during holidays, exchanging gifts. It seemed high time to reactivate that partnership. Karen glanced at Muri, initially intending to assign the task to him. But considering they would be home shortly, leaving these matters to Alfred's care was far more reliable. The transmission succeeded, yet the carriage did not hurry out of the Church Affairs Building. Now that he was back, there were certain people he had to see. That person's adjutant was already waiting before the teleportation circle. To avoid causing a commotion, Karen put on a mask before stepping down from the carriage. He took the elevator to the top floor, where the adjutant helped push open the office doors before stepping aside. Karen walked in, removed the mask, and saw Head Bishop Bern behind the desk, deeply engrossed in official affairs. Bern had grown old. His hair, once half-gray and lending him a resolute air, was now predominantly white. Visibly, he had become haggard. Karen teased deliberately, "Did you intentionally put on makeup knowing I was coming back?" "I can't be bothered with that nonsense. In any case, I'll receive a proper mortuary treatment once I'm dead." "I've only just returned. Could you say something positive and uplifting?" "Fine, Karen. I'll reserve a spot for you in the First Knight Order and await your arrival to report for duty." "Heh heh." "Heh heh." Both chuckled. Bern fetched a glass of water with ice cubes, handed it to Karen, and cradled a cup of hot water himself while leaning against the windowsill. In the past, whenever Karen returned or was about to set out, Bern always had plenty to say. Having lived half his life in the shadows, the old man possessed a wealth of experience in work and survival. This time, however, Bern seemed to have lost the desire to talk. "I've pondered it for quite a while, but I still don't know what else to say to you. How about... Minister Karen, let me salute you?" Karen sipped his water, remaining silent. Bern froze for a moment, then cursed irritably, "You really expect me to salute you!" "You offered voluntarily. It wasn't as if I forced you." Previously, when Karen was Regional Chief, he and Bern were de jure equals. Now, Karen's status throughout the entire Yorktown Region was completely transcendent. "Heh. Who gets your seat as Regional Chief?" "Leon." "So soon?" "I spoke with the Whip-Wielder, and he approved." Bern nodded. "Then we've fulfilled our duty to the previous Head Bishop." "Yes," Karen agreed with a nod. Bern walked up to the desk and pulled out a report. "Since you're back, I can submit this application for early retirement." "In such a rush?" "No matter who takes over as Regional Chief, nothing will change the fact that the Yorktown Region is completely under your thumb. Before you returned, I could only hold on through sheer grit to watch the house for you. Now that you, the master, are back, it's time I took a rest." "How long do you have left?" "The deterioration has exceeded my expectations. Probably less than six months." "Then there's still plenty of time. Hang on a bit longer and help steady Leon while you're at it." "Listen to yourself. Is that something a human being says?" "I'm serious. Because I know you're not someone who wants to retire." "My plan was to visit some graves after retiring, check in on a few old subordinates or their widows, and then finish myself off before my physical condition hit rock bottom. I worry that if my condition deteriorates further, the First Knight Order might not accept me." "Don't worry. You're transferring as a technical specialist; minor flaws in the corpse's quality won't be an issue." "Thank you for the comfort." "Keep working, Bern. Work until you drop dead, then we'll see." "What are you trying to say?" "Don't ask. You'll know when the time comes." "Your wings have grown sturdy indeed, haven't they? Daring to speak in riddles and provoke me so blatantly?" "Indeed, times have changed, my dear Head Bishop Bern." Karen deliberately spread his arms. "In the past, I was quite grateful for the way you turned a blind eye to my doings. I harbored secrets that were not suitable for others to know." "I'm very curious what kind of secret gave you the confidence to say you could keep it safe only after reaching this stage." "As I said, you will know when the time comes. Just sit comfortably in that Head Bishop's chair and make sure you die right in it. Only, remember to notify me before you take your final breath—preferably after sending away any prying eyes. That way, I can liquidate and pocket your legacy." "Hmph..." Bern tapped his chest. "You startled me into thinking you meant to resurrect me after I died." "How can your imagination be so wild?" Bern shrugged, walked behind his desk, sat down, and patted the surface with both hands. "I will die in this seat." "Mm, very good." "Do you need me to draw up an inventory of my estate and tuck it into the compartment inside the left-hand drawer?" "Naturally. Thank you for being so thoughtful." "All right, I need to get back to working away my life. Tell Leon to make time to see me. Since you're busy, I'll spend what time I have before dying to show him the ropes." "Understood." Karen bowed to Bern, set down his glass, and walked out of the office. Bern cast a glance at the copy of the *Light of Order* that sat on every Order priest's desk. Suddenly, he let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Ha, what on earth am I letting my thoughts run wild about?" *** Led by the adjutant, Karen prepared to take the elevator down, but when the doors slid open, a group of Red-Robed Bishops stepped out. Leading them was none other than his maternal grandfather, Delon. Delon was never one for socializing, but ever since the Whip of Order Corps returned from the front lines, his popularity had abruptly soared, and colleagues were all too eager to gather around him and shower him with pleasantries. While the old man maintained a humble front, he thoroughly enjoyed the sensation in his heart. Although his daughter-in-law and daughter had their merits offset by mistakes on the commendation roster, his son, son-in-law, and grandson had truly reaped the fullest possible credentials during this expedition, practically draped in blinding gold leaf. This meant that the Guman family could maintain a firm footing in the Yorktown Region across both the next generation and the one after that. Perhaps they might even advance further, rising from a lineage of Jurists to an episcopal family. Of course, what made him proudest was his grandson—yet tragically, he could not brag about him openly. Seeing the Head Bishop's adjutant, the bishops nodded toward him, and the adjutant bowed in greeting. Upon spotting Delon, Karen hesitated for a moment before deciding to simply take off his mask. Although meeting in such a formal setting was rather awkward, Karen knew that if his grandfather later found out he had seen him and pretended not to recognize him, the old man would surely be upset. While his grandfather's anger didn't amount to much, if his grandmother found out, she would certainly nag him endlessly. The bishops froze collectively, then immediately parted to salute Karen. "Greetings, Lord Minister!" "Greetings, Lord Minister!" Regarding major personnel reshuffles, the bishops had undoubtedly received word the day before. Of course, even if Karen were still the Regional Chief, the bishops remained his subordinates. Old Master Delon offered his grandson the most standard salute of all, shouting his greeting the loudest. Far from feeling humiliated at bowing to his grandson, his face flushed with vitality, radiating total physical and spiritual gratification. Karen nodded to the group, then asked Delon, "Has Richard returned home?" "He did, but he went back to work. That boy just refuses to rest, heh heh. Karen, you... Minister Karen, when you have time, please visit the house..." Because Karen's rank was now so exalted, Old Master Delon fumbled, suddenly at a loss for how to phrase official pleasantries. "I will. In a couple of days, I'll visit the old lady at your home. I will never forget the care she has always shown me." "Good, good! Our whole family welcomes you—warmly welcomes you!" As Karen stepped into the elevator, the bishops crowded around Delon to bombard him with inquiries. They had known Karen maintained a good relationship with the Guman family, but never had they expected it to be so rock-solid that the number two figure of the Whip of Order would remember it and openly reaffirm it in public. Old Master Delon could only explain to his colleagues again and again, "Ah, no, no, it's purely because my wife's bean paste is so good. Minister Karen just loves the taste!" *** The carriage rolled out of the Church Affairs Building, but its destination was not the original Whip of Order Headquarters of the Yorktown Region, but the outskirts. Out there, a brand-new headquarters complex had already been constructed, though its intended purpose had now changed—it was to serve directly as the office premises for the Whip of Order's Discipline Department. Just how lavish was this new complex? When the carriage arrived before an iron bridge, Muri stepped down to undergo identity verification. The carriage then crossed the bridge and entered the barrier. Inside lay a cluster of castle-like structures, sprawling greenery, fountains, and sculptures. Compared to this place, Allen Manor seemed downright destitute. "Wow..." Little Kanna clung to the carriage window, gazing at the enchanting scenery outside. Muri, too, stared transfixed. Working here, it would be difficult for anyone not to feel uplifted. Karen's mood, however, was not quite so sunny. The Discipline Department was the Whip of Order within the Whip of Order, a terrifying realm feared by everyone in the church. Once operations commenced, it would be riddled with dungeons, interrogations, torture, and weeping... Had they arranged such warm and lovely scenery deliberately to create a jarring contrast? The professors and students of Order University truly didn't care about the feelings of their financial patron at all. They had poured all their creative fervor into building him a whole collection of "miniature wonders." Never assume people in ivory towers were pure and unblemished; many simply hadn't had the opportunity before. Once opportunity presented itself, their greed was often cruder and uglier. To satisfy them, he had issued bonds, blackmailed powers like Dark Moon Island and the Church of Pamires, and even personally looted graves and raided tombs on the front lines... Stepping down from the carriage, Karen took a deep breath. The crisp, intoxicating air was indeed captivating. Not far off, Alfred, Vic, and Leon led a pristine rank of Order priests in saluting Karen: "Greetings, Lord Minister!" "Greetings, Lord Minister!" Karen returned their salute with utmost solemnity. Once the courtesies concluded, Alfred stepped forward on his own initiative. "Young Master, let me show you around the new office premises." "Alfred." "Yes, Young Master. Please give your orders." Karen issued his very first command since assuming office as Minister of Discipline: "Immediately launch an audit and investigation into the financial affairs of every department during the reform process."