The Silent Ones!

In the carriage on the way back from the Guman residence, Karen unfolded a newspaper and asked Philomena, who was sitting across from him, "Have you made progress again recently?" "Mm." "How much?" "A lot." Karen nodded. No wonder she was crushing plates so easily; she had just broken through and had not yet mastered her control over her strength. Little Kanna asked curiously, "Does eating a lot make you stronger?" Because the little bone dragon took medicinal pills with every meal, in terms of visible food intake, she fell far short of someone like Philomena, who ate by the bucketful. Emotionally, therefore, Little Kanna did not feel that she ate more than Philomena—even though half of one of her pills would have been fatal to Philomena. Philomena replied, "You can cultivate while sleeping too." "Ooh, how do you do that?" Karen reached out and rapped Little Kanna on the head, warning, "Don't go copying blindly." Little Kanna had been raised very well, transforming from her initial withdrawn state into someone visibly warm and cheerful. Karen did not want her messing around with strange methods and shutting herself away again. Philomena shrugged, indicating that she had no way of teaching it. Feeling wronged, Little Kanna pointed at Philomena and complained to Karen, "That's not fair! She's cheating!" *You carry the legacy of the Rebel Dragon God, and you have the nerve to call someone else a cheater?* Karen paid her no further attention and focused on reading his paper. After a while, Andrew's figure appeared outside the carriage window, and Philomena opened the door. Andrew handed Karen a black raven and reported, "A transmission from Secretary-General Vic. The Whip-Wielder is summoning you." Karen took the raven, glanced at it, and instructed, "Head to the Teleportation Array Hall." "Yes, Minister." The raven did not state why the Whip-Wielder was summoning him, but such summonses were completely normal. As the number one and number two figures in an entire branch, it would have been strange if they had gone too long without meeting. The carriage entered the Teleportation Array Hall and teleported to the Dinge Region. Just as they pulled out of the Dinge Regional Ecclesiastical Center, they saw another carriage driving toward them. Stepping down from it was the Whip-Wielder's secretary, Miguel. Philomena opened the door and prepared to get out, but Karen shook his head. "The Whip-Wielder isn't in the carriage." When accompanied by the Whip-Wielder, Miguel's footsteps were always light, and he certainly never ran. Standing outside the carriage, Miguel said, "Minister Karen, you arrived so quickly." Karen smiled faintly. "When the Whip-Wielder summons, I dare not delay." "The Whip-Wielder is not at headquarters. He is at Heart Sea Manor. I will lead the way for you." "Then please, get in, my dear Secretary-General." "Ah, all right." Miguel had originally intended to lead the way in his own carriage. He had not expected Karen to invite him inside directly. Given the shift in their respective statuses, he felt somewhat flattered by the gesture. Once the carriage was moving again, Karen retrieved red wine and ice from the built-in cooler. Miguel hurriedly took over, pouring a glass of ice water for Karen first, followed by a glass of red wine for himself. "Today is an informal, spontaneous banquet," Miguel said. Pausing, he added, "The High Priest might also drop by, because the Whip-Wielder went out of his way to change clothes before leaving." "I see. Thank you." "Oh, don't mention it." The two clinked glasses gently. After a moment of silence, hesitation appeared on Miguel's face. Karen lowered his eyes to the newspaper, pretending not to notice. From a practical standpoint, now that Karen had reached his current station, he no longer truly needed the secretary-general's assistance. More importantly, the Whip-Wielder was not an incompetent or foolish man; no one dared whisper slander in front of him. In the end, Miguel spoke up on his own accord. "Minister Karen, I'm thinking of transferring out. I'd like to temper myself with frontline work." Karen turned a page of the newspaper and said, "Yorktown Region welcomes you, my dear Secretary-General." A broad smile immediately broke out on Miguel's face. He did not mind that Karen was no longer as attentive and eager as before; as long as Karen was still willing to honor their past ties and help him, he was more than satisfied. "Thank you, Minister Karen." "Are you truly looking for practical experience?" Karen asked. "Yes, absolutely. I'm not merely looking to pad my credentials. As you know, our Whip-Wielder isn't easily fooled." "Captain of the Operations Brigade under the First Office of the Yorktown Region Whip of Order Disciplinary Inspection Committee—how does that sound?" This rank was low—significantly low. Under normal circumstances, it would have been entirely fitting for Miguel to transfer to a regional Whip of Order as a minister, or even hold a concurrent title as Vice Regional Chief. This arrangement truly cast him down to the grassroots. Yet Miguel knew that a massive purge was underway under Karen, and operations were at their peak. He would be able to personally lead teams across the region to bring suspects to justice, earning concrete, undeniable achievements. Though the rank was modest, it was optimal for his long-term career. His path in administration was destined to be smooth; the awkward part was that he lacked substantive field experience and risked advancing on empty air. Miguel immediately responded in a loud voice, "Understood, my Lord!" Heart Sea Manor was situated on an island, though there was no need to take a ship across the sea. A secluded plaza housed a dedicated teleportation array, and before long, the carriage appeared in the manor grounds on the island. The area was enveloped in a distinctive pink barrier. Under the sunlight, a haze of pink mist seemed to drift over the sea, creating an exquisite scene reminiscent of a fairytale realm. Karen stepped out of the carriage and saw Daina riding past on a unicorn, which let out a whinny. Daina waved to Karen. "What a coincidence, Commander! I just came back from a ride and bumped right into you." Little Kanna pointed at the unicorn beneath Daina and piped up, "It just said you've been circling around here waiting for someone for ages!" Daina: "..." Karen said, "Let's head inside." Miguel said, "Minister Karen, only you and your bone dragon may enter. I will arrange a place for your retinue and guards to rest and wait." "All right." Taking Little Kanna by the hand, Karen walked into the manor, and Daina followed alongside them. The grounds were immaculately manicured. Every tree and blade of grass looked deliberately designed; walking along the paths within, one was almost reluctant to tread too heavily for fear of damaging the foliage. At the very center lay a field of lavender. It was a special breed with sturdy roots capable of supporting human footfalls. Karen did not see the Whip-Wielder; he was likely in the red-and-blue building at the highest point. However, three people were sitting on the meadow. One was a middle-aged man wearing the robes of the Moon God Church, his gaze gentle. Another was an elderly man wearing the robes of the Church of Samsara, toying with an undead creature in his hands, his expression kindly. The last was a middle-aged woman wearing the robes of the Church of Life. She looked exceptionally youthful, her skin supple and smooth. She was lounging sideways on the meadow, appearing to nuzzle the plants beneath her like an innocent, carefree young maiden. Setting aside their allegiances, it would have seemed a warm and peaceful scene. Yet Karen's professional instincts told him that the atmosphere among the three was delicate and tense; beneath those soft expressions lay a biting chill. Daina assumed the role of introducer. "Com—Minister, let me introduce them. This is Bright Moon Emissary Delsen of the Moon God Church." The middle-aged man inclined his head to Karen with a polite smile. "Delsen Chi Foka." "This is the former Inspector of the Gate of Samsara of the Church of Samsara, Labota." The elderly man gently rubbed the head of his tiny pet. "Labota Hovda." "And this is Lady Simiris of the Church of Life." The woman lightly brushed back her hair. "Simiris Defoe Morin." Daina gestured toward Karen. "This is the Minister of our Whip of Order's Disciplinary Department, Karen Silva." The formal greetings commenced. All three stood and offered salutes according to their respective religious customs, while Karen returned the courtesy with the etiquette of Order. A Bright Moon Emissary of the Moon God Church enjoyed immense prestige, overseeing the church's frontier space affairs. Given the Moon God Church's unique reliance on frontier spaces, it was no exaggeration to say that his status within his faith was equivalent to that of a system head in the Church of Order—a true heavyweight figure. The Samsara elder bore the surname 'Hovda.' In the Church of Samsara, where family clans wielded overwhelming influence, this surname carried an ancient heritage and exalted standing. They had virtually monopolized the position of Inspector of the Gate of Samsara through hereditary succession; the current inspector was likely a younger member of his family. As for the lady from the Church of Life, Karen noticed the name 'Defoe.' If Daliwenluo had not been an illegitimate child, and if that bald fellow had been willing to return to the clan upon reaching adulthood, he would have added that surname: Defoe. The Morin family was a lineage of gardeners in the Garden of Life. Their earliest ancestors had served two Gods of Life and personally tended the flora of the Garden of Life for the deities, granting them a transcendent status within the Church of Life. Because she placed 'Defoe' within her name, it was very likely that she had adopted her husband's surname. In the conservative and traditional climate of a major church, this was an assertion of supreme confidence—it indicated respect for her husband's family, but only just enough. After all, the Defoe family held considerable power in the Church of Life, possessing its own private legion. Could this Lady Simiris be Daliwenluo's stepmother? The small pet in Labota's hands flew toward Little Kanna, seemingly wanting to play with another creature. Little Kanna raised both hands, looking ready to catch it. Suddenly, Labota's expression tightened, and he forcefully reeled his pet back in. *Smack!* Little Kanna clapped her hands together. *Boom!* A tremendous tremor shook the air. If Labota had been a fraction of a second slower, his undead pet would have been pounded into meat paste by Little Kanna. Little Kanna's cuteness was reserved exclusively for Karen, Purr, and a certain golden retriever. Any other minor creatures that tried to act playful with her would find no mercy; she was, after all, a dragon of noble blood. Labota chuckled. "Minister Karen, your pet has quite a temper." Karen replied, "She is my daughter." Hearing this, Labota bowed his head slightly in apology before quickly pivoting the topic. "A friend of mine often speaks of you, saying you are the most outstanding young man he has ever met. His name is Lango." "Then please tell Lango that my inability to twist off his head in the desert and bring it back as a trophy remains an enduring regret of mine." "Heh heh heh." Labota took no offense. "Because of you, he was subjected to an internal investigation by our church for quite some time." "He told me himself that his heart belongs to Order. You should look into him thoroughly." "Ha ha ha!" Labota roared with laughter. Lady Simiris said to Karen, "I, on the other hand, must thank our dear Minister Karen. You devoured my husband's family's legion in the desert, and now my husband is far more obedient and much easier to manage in front of me. I am truly grateful for your help." "It was the least I could do." Evidently, she truly was Daliwenluo's stepmother. "What a pity. If you had captured or killed him, I would be enjoying the bliss of being single again." "I will make sure to improve next time. Rest assured, Lady Simiris." "I shall look forward to it." Simiris's smile was striking. Certain individuals, whether male or female, radiated a presence that instinctively stirred desire in the opposite sex, and Daliwenluo's stepmother was undeniably alluring. Primal heat was, in itself, one expression of surging life force. Among the various churches, the upper echelons of the Church of Life were notorious for promiscuity; compared to them, Count Rekal seemed almost prudish. Only because the Church of Life was an orthodox faith did its reputation remain slightly better than that of the Mills Church. The middle-aged man, Delsen, spoke up. "Regarding our church's Holy Child, Salayina..." Just as Karen was preparing to deliver a diplomatic deflection, Lady Simiris interjected, "The setup was quite well done. The branch of the Tree of Life was left behind by the perpetrator, providing ample evidence. I wonder, though, whether the Church of Order will seize upon this pretext to target my Church of Life." Delsen said, "That depends largely on Order's mood." Simiris stretched languidly. "Go ahead and make a move, do it. I can hardly wait." These declarations of allegiance puzzled Karen. Considering that the gathering had been arranged by the Whip-Wielder, Karen could only infer: were these three figures, each holding exalted and unique standing within their respective churches, spies for Order? Even if they were not spies, they had to be collaborators aligned with Order. From their own churches' perspectives, they belonged to internal subversive factions. The Bright Moon Emissaries, constrained by shifts in the Moon God Church's resource allocation, had long since lost the luster they had enjoyed during the height of the church's frontier expansions. In the Church of Samsara, ever since the believers beyond the gate merged with the main church through spiritual descent, the Inspectors of the Gate of Samsara—who originally acted as intermediaries—found their standing extremely awkward. As for the Morin family in the Church of Life, their predicament resembled that of the Temple of Order, facing relentless suppression from the ruling faction. At the dawn of the era, the Morin family could even convey the divine decrees of the God of Life; now, while their status remained superficially venerated, they were increasingly forced to retreat into purely doctrinal and academic roles. All three factions were desperate for external disruption to overturn their domestic predicaments. Colluding with the Church of Order thus carried clear motivation. To an outsider, such actions appeared short-sighted and selfish, wrecking the collective board for personal gain. Yet they themselves would never see it that way; they would believe they were serving the greater good, convinced that only by seizing leadership could their factions secure the best future for their faiths. Particularly with the return of the gods drawing ever closer, internal power struggles were exacerbated. Once the deities descended, existing power structures would be locked in place under divine authority, becoming virtually unchangeable. Consequently, the impending advent of the gods drastically accelerated internal fractures within each church. If they failed to carve out their slice of the cake now, they might never get another chance and remain permanently subjugated. By contrast, within the Church of Order, Norton's rise to power had forcefully unified the church. Backed by his hidden identity, he had suppressed the Temple of Order, thereby keeping internal fractures from erupting. Did the Whip-Wielder arrange Karen's attendance at this high-level clandestine meeting to hand over this unique network of liaisons to him? Just then, a black raven flew over, circled Karen several times, and headed toward the building at the center of the manor. Excusing himself, Karen turned and walked toward the structure. The Whip-Wielder had yet to show his face, yet he had summoned Karen away right now, effectively diminishing the importance of the three guests. Could his purpose in calling Karen have nothing to do with them? There were no servants inside the manor. Karen pushed open the front door. The ground floor was merely a vacant living room, so he ascended to the second floor. There were two rooms: one with an open door, and one firmly closed. Karen approached the closed door and knocked. "Enter." Karen pushed the door open and stepped inside. There was no folded space within; it was an ordinary study. The Whip-Wielder sat behind a desk, while an elderly man with snow-white hair and beard sat on the sofa opposite him. The moment Karen entered, he detected an unusual vibration in the room. The floorboards, chandelier, and desk were all trembling faintly. It stemmed from the involuntary leakage of power—all radiating from the old man on the sofa. He resembled a cracked bottle, leaking water continuously. The old man said to Karen, "My apologies. Old injuries make it impossible for me to properly contain my aura." The Whip-Wielder introduced him: "Buken, my predecessor." *The previous Whip-Wielder?* Karen bowed to the elder. The old man's gaze tightened slightly, and the leaking aura intensified, yet Karen stood firmly in place without the slightest sway. Buken fired off a series of questions: "Not possessed? Not a vessel? Not infused?" These were all methods of acquiring extraordinary power beyond one's natural limits, but each came with severe constraints and side effects. The Whip-Wielder replied calmly, "None of the above." *Foden: You should be bolder and guess that he's a Child of God.* Buken smiled. "This talent alone is enough to earn my recognition." The Whip-Wielder said to Karen, "If not to see you, he wouldn't have stepped foot outside the Blood Degree Space." The Blood Degree Space was the most mysterious and hazardous frontier space under the dominion of the Church of Order. Over five centuries had passed since its discovery, yet the church had established only a handful of outposts within it, exploring and controlling less than one percent of its total expanse. Karen could only assume that Buken, having lost the political struggle against Foden, had been exiled there. Perhaps the fact that he was still alive was a source of disappointment to the current Whip-Wielder. Buken looked at Little Kanna behind Karen and chuckled. "You truly picked someone just like yourself. Your High Priest never tires of looking at you, does he? He truly favors you, Foden." The Whip-Wielder gave no response, seemingly tolerating this sacrilegious remark. In truth, Buken had backed Norton's rival for the seat of High Priest. When his candidate lost, his entire faction had been purged. Consequently, Buken did not acknowledge the current High Priest. Buken asked, "Where is that dragon of yours?" "She's grown increasingly sluggish. I couldn't be bothered to bring her out." Buken stood up, pushed open the study window, and looked down at the meadow below. "Having spent so long in the Blood Degree Space, I have no desire to meddle in their affairs anymore." "You were the one who originally established and cultivated those connections. I assumed you would care to see them." "They have nothing to do with me now. I only hope you and your High Priest do your jobs properly." "I won't see you off." Buken clapped his hands. Far out on the sea, a colossal blood-red octopus emerged. Its tentacles were studded with eyes that blinked periodically, projecting a terrifying psychological pressure. Foden stood up, looked at the octopus, and said, "I heard you survived in that place because before every mission, you had that octopus divine your fortune." "Indeed. Otherwise, I would have died in that hellhole long ago." "Then did you divine your fortune before coming here today?" "I did. Heh." "Heh." Both men smiled. Buken's form dissolved into black mist, drifted out the window, and settled onto the blood-red octopus. Below on the meadow, the three figures bowed in the direction of the creature. The octopus began to glide away. Up to this point, Karen remained somewhat bewildered as to why the Whip-Wielder had called him here so abruptly. With his back turned to Karen, the Whip-Wielder said, "He rarely comes out, because he knows I want him dead. Yet his death would tear apart numerous networks of influence—such as the one gathered below today. That is why the position of Whip-Wielder is so vital, and so sensitive." "Yet you still wish for his death, don't you?" "Indeed. We have an old grudge. The cold poison in my body was his doing." Karen remained silent. "There are things I can do in the name of the High Priest, but there are also things the High Priest will not permit me to do. It is much like your current situation; you should understand." "Not entirely, because you seem to support everything I wish to do." "Your answer brings me comfort." Foden turned around. Holding a cigar between his fingers, he patted Karen on the shoulder, deliberately letting an ash flick fall onto Karen's coat before personally brushing it off. Karen stood smiling in place, not flinching at all—the very image of Foden himself before the High Priest. A slight smile curved Foden's lips as he continued, "Ever since he lost the contest against me, he has never set foot outside the Blood Degree Space. He knows it is perilous there, but he knows even better that out here, with my presence, he would be in far greater danger. "Yet he still harbors sentiment for the Whip of Order—or more accurately, an obsession. After I elevated you, he grew curious about you as well. He wanted to come and see you in person." "I hope I did not disappoint him." "He, however, disappointed me. The seat of Whip-Wielder demands interaction with many factions across the ecclesiastical world, but there are certain forces that must never be touched. "He should not have made contact with the Silent Ones." Hearing the words 'Silent Ones,' Karen's heart surged with turbulence. He had first learned of the 'Silent Ones' through Bernard on Dark Moon Island. It was an enigmatic organization operating entirely outside the orthodox church order. Under their instigation and orchestration, Bernard had betrayed and executed Philias, and they had bestowed upon Bernard the Eye of the Dark Moon. Under interrogation, Bernard had confessed that the two Silent Ones who approached him were a Priest of Light and a Priest of Eternity. They had promised that if Bernard served them, once the gods returned, he would be allowed to integrate Dark Moon Island into the newly formed Church of Light. Karen had never abandoned his investigation into this shadowy group. Yet despite his current rank and extensive security clearance, he had failed to uncover a single explicit record concerning them. This did not mean records did not exist; rather, they were classified under the highest level of suppression. If such an organization truly existed, church archives would inevitably contain at least circumstantial references. To be completely scrubbed clean was an abnormality in itself. Evidently, the Whip-Wielder knew of this organization, and in Foden's eyes, it was a forbidden boundary never to be crossed. Foden had been closely observing Karen's reaction. Karen's response appeared entirely natural, resembling someone who had never heard of the organization before. Yet even the most masterful disguise and acting were futile before the chief intelligence head of Order. Through pure intuition alone, Foden could sense that Karen knew of this group. However, Foden had no interest in prying into how Karen knew. After the trial at Augurev Fortress, Foden had, in essence, developed complete trust in him. He glanced out the window once more. The blood-red octopus was weaving its barrier, preparing an ad-hoc teleportation array to carry its master away and return to the perilous yet protective confines of the Blood Degree Space. "As I mentioned earlier, every time he travels, he has that octopus divine whether it is safe. If any crisis is foreseen, he will never step out." Karen chimed in, "Was the divination successful this time?" "What do you think?" "It seems... not quite." Foden nodded, thinking to himself: *Because this time, I brought you into the fold.* Who could have guessed that the second-in-command of the Whip of Order was a Child of God? How could Buken ever have imagined that Foden would dare establish a Child of God as his successor right under the High Priest's nose? He would think Foden had gone mad. Indeed, Foden himself felt he was already mad. Out upon the sea, blood-red ripples expanded, and the teleportation array was about to activate. Foden tilted his head up and lightly tapped the back of his hand with his left fingertips. *Roar!* In the next instant, a colossal frost dragon surged from the depths of the ocean. Its massive form coiled around the departing blood-red octopus in a flash, and terrifying frost instantly froze the entire expanse of the sea! Foden's figure vanished from the study and reappeared floating over the frozen waters. Standing atop the head of the blood-red octopus, Buken narrowed his eyes. Staring at Foden, he smiled faintly. "You have many duties and a busy schedule. There is no need to see me off; I can find my own way back." Foden replied placidly, "Regrettably, your divination was mistaken this time."