The dramatic turn of events unfolded just like that. Standing by the window, Karen could see the expressions of Labota, Delsen, and Simiris on the meadow below. While not dramatic enough to turn their faces pale, their furrowed brows clearly showed that they hadn't anticipated this scene either.
It was rather amusing when one thought about it. These three had come here secretly to meet with the Whip-Wielder of Order to do things detrimental to their own churches' interests. Then, as if to ease their awkwardness, the Whip-Wielder staged an internal clash within Order right in front of them, allowing everyone to blend in seamlessly.
Dissolving into black mist, Karen left the office and appeared at the edge of the meadow below. The three immediately turned their gazes toward him, clearly hoping for an explanation.
Karen merely smiled and said nothing.
He couldn't provide an explanation, so he could only project an aura that everything was well in hand.
Fortunately, the slightly awkward atmosphere did not linger for long, as the Whip-Wielder officially made his move.
Deep, rolling thunder echoed continuously from the dome of heaven, and arcs of black lightning brewed at blinding speed in the depths of the dark clouds.
Foden spread his hands. The lightning above poured down eagerly, centered around him to form a vast storm zone over the sea.
Augie chose this moment to uncoil her dragon form. A large expanse of red patches appeared on the flank of her dragon body—corrosion from the red octopus.
However, these wounds were quickly covered by new dragon scales formed from condensed frost. Having accompanied the Whip-Wielder for so long, Augie certainly did not lack dragon combat experience.
Seeing this, Little Kanna reflexively reached out to touch her own arm. She had always harbored an obsession with the big, clumsy dragon's scales.
Daina was already fairly familiar with Little Kanna from their time in the military camp. Seeing her reaction, she immediately suggested, "You could cover yourself with a new layer of bone, right? The effect should be about the same."
Little Kanna looked at Daina with the same look she gave Augie, saying, "If I were as big as Augie, that octopus would have been gone long ago."
Daina was momentarily stunned before realizing what Little Kanna meant. Indeed, the frost dragon was a magic-specialized dragon race, whereas the bone dragon was the strongest warrior among dragons!
If the one attacking just now hadn't been a frost dragon but an adult bone dragon, with a physical body practically unmatched in the dragon race, what monster beast could withstand her dragon coil?
Those massive, rigid bone spikes would have pierced through that octopus in an instant, turning it into splattering juices.
Daina asked in puzzlement, "Then why are you still studying formations and spells?"
She had seen Little Kanna's homework notebooks; they didn't just contain spell formations and techniques, but even humanities, history, painting, and music.
When she could clearly rely on natural physical growth to make a living, she still insisted on pursuing well-rounded moral, intellectual, physical, and aesthetic development.
Little Kanna stole a glance at Karen standing on the meadow, and then replied using a quote from Purr: "Because being a pure warrior is too dull; it doesn't look sophisticated or elegant enough, meow."
Far out on the sea, the red octopus, freed from the frost dragon's coils, began preparing for a short-range spatial teleportation. But as soon as the teleportation aura manifested, it was blasted apart by the surrounding lightning.
Forced teleportation under such conditions carried a high risk of being thrown into a spatial countercurrent—either shredded instantly or lost forever.
Having no alternative, if it wanted to leave this place, it had to break through by force.
The octopus's massive tentacles lashed out toward the area where Foden stood. The sheer force was so tremendous that it produced a succession of visual distortions in the air.
Foden remained motionless. Before him materialized the colossal silhouette of an armored warrior—not his dharma body, but a summoning spell.
The warrior was clad in black armor, holding in his left hand a giant tower shield bristling with barbs, and in his right hand a greatsword entwined with dragon totems.
Seeing this, Labota of the Church of Samsara frowned slightly. "An undead summoning spell?"
An instant-cast advanced war spirit summoning spell.
When it came to undead arts, the Church of Samsara was the authority; after all, they possessed the Gate of Samsara, an experimental vessel capable of endlessly providing powerful soul entities.
Thus, Labota could clearly discern the rank of the Whip-Wielder's summoning spell, as well as the underlying reality behind it.
He could cast this summoning spell too, but he could never achieve an instant cast. In this single technique alone, the Whip-Wielder surpassed him.
Yet the problem was that this was his own church's specialty, whereas the Whip-Wielder walked the Path of Order—he was operating across disciplines.
Simiris smiled and said, "Is it really so strange? The Church of Order has always been devoted to absorbing sequences from other churches to complete itself. From the last era to the present day, that project has never ceased."
When the Church of Order was first founded in the last era, it was still weak. Back then, under the blueprint drafted by Tyrannus, it absorbed and imported the systems of other churches for supplementation and learning. At that time, the God of Order joined the Light camp, which facilitated Order's sequence imports.
As the Church of Order gradually grew stronger, its appetite expanded. Especially over a thousand years ago, Order emerged victorious from its prolonged confrontation against Light, and as the victor, it thoroughly harvested the sequences of the churches in the former Light faction.
Consequently, many systems within the Church of Order today could be traced back to other churches. If it were merely copying and reproducing, that would be one thing, but the Church of Order actively developed and refined them.
This led to an exceedingly awkward predicament: in an era where gods no longer appeared, the major churches generally suffered a decline in their technical expertise. Sometimes, when certain churches sought to reverse-engineer and restore their lost arts—arts that were originally their own—they actually had to come study under the Church of Order.
Take dragons, for example. If raising a high-blooded dragon to full maturity required the resources of an orthodox church, that was understandable. But the issue was that in dragon magic, dragon combat techniques, dragon bloodline enhancement, and more, the Church of Order was more professional than the dragon race itself.
That the slow-witted Augie could be nurtured into a complete form was no accident; it showed just how comfortable her life had been.
Labota remarked, "So, once Order has drained other churches dry, their existence becomes a burden."
Boom!
The giant warrior touched down, triggering a tsunami. He blocked the red octopus's barrage of tentacles with his shield, then swung his greatsword. In an instant, a rain of crimson blood poured over the sea.
The red octopus's main body suffered severe injuries, letting out agonizing wails.
In a battle of this caliber, as a support-oriented monster beast, it was completely out of its depth.
Buken moved then. A blue longbow appeared in his hands. Nocking an arrow, he aimed straight at Foden.
Buzz!
A piercing sonic screech instantly obliterated all other noise across the sea. Even the manor was thoroughly engulfed by the sound, its built-in defensive formations collapsing under the shockwave of the sonic boom and sending lavender blossoms flying everywhere.
Augie opened her jaws and exhaled frost energy, erecting an icy barrier before Foden.
However, the blue arrow did not continue toward Foden; it shifted silently, heading straight for Augie.
You hurt my monster beast, so I'll make your dragon pay the price!
Pfft!
Augie's dragon form was pierced through, a massive puncture wound tearing across her belly. However, the injury was quickly sealed in frost once more. Red light swirled within Augie's dragon eyes—she was thoroughly infuriated.
Buken smiled, reaching down to pat a small tentacle of the octopus beneath him as if consoling an old companion: Don't feel aggrieved, see? I got payback for you.
Delsen said to Karen, "Should we step in and help?"
Labota echoed, "Indeed, it's not like we have anything else to do."
Although they all had deep past ties with Buken, when it came to whether to support the current Whip-Wielder or the former one, they were very clear on where they stood.
Karen shook his head and said, "You are our guests. How could we ask guests to help clean up? Daina."
"Present!"
"Pour water."
"Yes, Corps Commander!"
To ensure absolute secrecy, Heart Sea Manor had not a single servant. So when Karen arrived earlier, these three prominent figures—holding exalted statuses in their respective churches—had literally been sitting on the meadow chatting dryly.
Daina deftly began pouring water and setting out tea and snacks. An amused smile played at the corner of Simiris's lips. She could tell that Daina's obedience to Karen wasn't just a matter of habit, but carried a genuine sense of enjoyment.
According to recent intelligence, Order's High Priest had originally intended to betroth Daina to Karen, only for the Whip-Wielder to turn it down on Karen's behalf.
From Karen's expression and tone, his relationship with the High Priest's adopted daughter was strictly superior and subordinate.
Tsk, comparisons really were maddening. Why couldn't her stud of a husband be more like this? The moment she lowered her guard, he would scurry off to breed outside.
In recent years, under her strict discipline, he had reined himself in considerably—no longer fooling around outside, only responsible for siring offspring for his brothers.
That bastard son...
Simiris thought of Dalivenro. She had once been criticized by her father over that matter; a genius like that within the church should have called her 'Mother' as well.
In her youth, she hadn't felt she was in the wrong. Now, she felt a trace of regret. Fortunately, he was already dead.
Karen raised his glass and offered a distant toast to the three guests. The three raised their wine glasses in response, though they felt something was off:
Your direct superior is fighting in front, yet you sit here with guests drinking water and watching the show. An ordinary subordinate would never dare do such a thing.
Karen didn't feel there was anything inappropriate about his behavior, because he understood the Whip-Wielder's temperament.
A prismatic gleam surfaced in Foden's eyes. The giant war spirit's heart began throbbing violently.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The resonant heartbeat carried an overwhelming resonance. Karen and the three guests were fine, as was the little bone dragon, but Daina was in such discomfort that she clutched her chest with both hands.
Little Kanna looked at Daina and asked, "Does it hurt?"
Daina nodded. "Mm."
Little Kanna consoled her, "It's fine, you're just developing."
Daina: "..."
Suddenly, it hurt even more.
Whenever Purr occasionally turned back into human form, besides walking the dog, she loved playing with Little Kanna—playing dress-up games, standing before the mirror, and trying on matching parent-child outfits without ever tiring of it.
Sometimes the young miss would twirl in a gown, have Little Kanna touch her, and ask proudly, "Is it big?"
Little Kanna would nod.
"Hmph, and he dared say I just got fat from eating!"
In this world, Miss Purr Allen was probably the only person who would compare her bust to a bone dragon.
The heartbeat accelerated until a black heart became distinctly visible from the outside.
"Order—Hymn of Life!"
The war spirit shattered, its spiritual essence transforming into extremely pure life energy that merged into Augie. The wounds on Augie's skin and the massive puncture across her belly began healing at a rate visible to the naked eye.
"Cough..."
Simiris choked, wine spraying from the corner of her mouth.
Delsen and Labota wore gloating grins, intentionally glancing toward her.
Hymn of Life—an advanced sacrificial healing spell of the Church of Life.
Seeing this, Karen couldn't help wondering if the Whip-Wielder was doing it on purpose.
The Whip-Wielder was carrying out retribution under the righteous pretext of the Silencers, while simultaneously taking the opportunity to display Order's formidable foundation to these three.
Unlike the conversions used by the Light faction, these two spells Foden employed were the products of the Church of Order adapting and ordering the sequences of other churches.
So, would the next one belong to the Moon God Church?
Karen glanced at Delsen. Simiris and Labota seemed to have realized the same thing, turning their gazes toward him as well.
The smile on Delsen's face gradually faded.
On one hand, he didn't want to see the Whip-Wielder use a Moon God spell, as having their arts openly and brazenly stolen was humiliating; on the other hand, if the Whip-Wielder didn't use one, wouldn't that imply that the Moon God system's spells weren't worthy of Order's regard?
However, the Whip-Wielder was, after all, a perfectionist who pursued every detail.
After healing Augie's injuries, he first closed his eyes and slowly raised both hands.
Behind him appeared a giant, closed eye—the Eye of Order.
Immediately after, across the sea and in the sky, more Eyes of Order began to emerge, exerting an immense mental pressure.
Foden opened his eyes. All the Eyes of Order opened, but what appeared within them were not pupils, but black crescent moons.
In an instant, an endless mental storm swept toward Buken, the invisible mental force whipping up tangible hurricanes over the sea.
The already grievously wounded red octopus let out an even more agonizing shriek. It possessed divination and teleportation, making such a functional monster beast all the more sensitive to mental attacks.
A pained grimace appeared on Buken's face, his eyes turning somber.
Karen recalled the energy leak he had sensed earlier upon entering the study; it indicated that Buken's injuries were mental or spiritual in nature. Now, Foden was deliberately rubbing salt into his opponent's wound.
When the black crescents appeared, Delsen felt relieved instead. He wasn't particularly uncomfortable; well, at least he was part of the club now.
He silently drained a full glass of wine. When he wanted a refill, he noticed Daina squatting on the ground, clutching her head.
He hooked his finger, intending to draw the wine bottle over, but the bottle wobbled, nearly toppling.
Under the impact of the immense mental wave around them, even those on the periphery of the battlefield were affected.
Clack!
A firm, stabilizing force dispelled Delsen's control and steadied the wine bottle.
Then the bottle floated before Delsen, pouring wine along the rim of the glass.
Next, it refilled glasses for Labota and Simiris respectively. Finally, Karen raised his cup and toasted the three once more.
Karen had no intention of deliberately showing off. At his current level, except when facing bigwigs of the Whip-Wielder's caliber or the High Priest, he no longer needed to put on deliberate performances.
After all, half a month ago, he had been locked in a grinding struggle against hunger addiction, so he really felt very little from this level of pressure.
Yet this simple act gave the three delegates quite a minor shock coming from the successor to the Whip of Order.
Buken let out a furious roar:
"Foden, are you deliberately putting on a show?!"
Having an old wound intentionally ripped open was excruciatingly painful.
Foden smiled. He could guess how Buken's soul wound had come about.
That was what you got for putting blind faith in divination. Setting aside whether it was accurate, if you accidentally divined an inviolable existence one day, you were truly ordering your own coffin.
Foden had read the frontline battle reports. On his desk was a report on special battlefield conditions submitted to the higher-ups by Corps Commander Tartas of the Church of Life, which highlighted one point: the wisdom sprites commonly favored by Church of Life commanders had failed during the war against Order.
Not only did they fail to provide the wisdom effect, they even reduced the commanders' intellect.
But the Church of Life did not take this seriously, thinking Tartas was simply inventing a clumsy excuse for his defeat and abandonment of his corps.
In contrast, the Whip-Wielder on Order's side paid close attention to it. Once you had an established hypothesis, all that remained was filling it with supporting evidence. What could cause wisdom sprites to be corrupted?
This evidence had also prompted Foden to take the risk of testing Karen at Augurev Fortress.
Thus, the concealment Karen took pride in was riddled with flaws in the eyes of a true spymaster.
If Karen hadn't personally led a team down into the corrupted sinkhole, and if Karen weren't the Child of God of their own branch god... he would have been suppressed long ago.
Buken's hair was disheveled—no act this time. He roared:
"Foden, you're younger than me! My body and soul have long entered decline! I can't beat you, and I don't intend to run! So give me a clean duel, can you?!
You wouldn't want to bore yourself to death grinding me down like this, would you? Where's the pleasure of revenge in that?!"
The moment his words fell, the black crescents turned into closed eyes, then vanished altogether. The terrifying mental storm dispersed in an instant.
Foden raised his arm. Above, Augie shifted from dragon form to human, descending behind Foden. She reached out with both arms and hugged him around the waist from behind.
In her youth, Augie had loved doing this. Sent to the Church of Order by her parents at a young age, Foden's back had always given her a fatherly sense of security.
Later, however, as Foden's status rose, the occasions for him to take action grew fewer, and such experiences of security became practically nonexistent.
An ice armor radiating holy light formed over Foden's body. Then, a ring on Foden's finger gleamed, opening a small black hole. He reached inside and withdrew a spear.
Golden patterns flickered across the spear—a sub-artifact.
It lacked an artifact spirit and might even be severely damaged, but regardless, it was still an artifact.
Seeing this, Buken flew into a greater rage and cursed:
"You're actually using that?! Have you no shame, bullying me because I have no way to use church resources to cultivate my octopus, and bullying me because I don't have the authority to requisition an artifact?!"
The treatment while in office was naturally different from that in retirement, not to mention Buken had been on the losing side of a political purge.
Foden turned his head slightly and said with annoyance, "Are you done whining? Are we fighting or not?"
Buken pointed at Foden and continued cursing, "Hah, so you think you're impressive just because you backed the right boss? That's all you've got!"
"Heheheh..."
Foden chuckled:
"The difference between us isn't between our bosses; it's the difference between the entire teams. The High Priest once said that yours was the most difficult opponent he had ever faced in his life, and the most worthy of respect.
So, the reason your boss lost was that he had too many people like you around him, dragging him down."
Enraged, the longbow in Buken's hands transformed into a blue scimitar. In a flash, he appeared before Foden, slashing down with his blade.
Foden flicked the tip of his spear.
Bang!
Buken was thrown back by the impact. Foden followed immediately, and countless afterimages of both figures flickered across the sea. Buken, who had initiated the attack, was immediately reduced to taking a one-sided beating.
One could clearly see that the Whip-Wielder did not rely solely on artifacts and his dragon; his close-combat capabilities were formidable on their own.
Considering the barrage of advanced spells he had displayed earlier, one could only say that Foden truly lived up to his status as a direct confidant chosen by Norton—the inheritor and suppressor of Tyrannus.
At this moment, even Little Kanna couldn't help turning to Karen and saying:
"Karen, your Whip-Wielder looks an awful lot like you."
Chapter 831