A Treat for You!

Karen reached out and patted Little Kanna's head. He understood why she perceived things that way. A "genius" could sometimes appear dazzling, but at other times, the word was merely a statistic among disposable trial products. Every era had its tide-riders. Who among those who could rise to such heights hadn't been a "genius" in their youth? No matter how many secrets Foden revealed, Karen wouldn't be surprised. If Foden were truly ordinary, that would be truly absurd. It was just that Little Kanna had another layer of confusion: if the Whip-Wielder were foolish, it would make sense for Augie to be foolish too. But the Whip-Wielder felt very similar to Karen, so how on earth did Augie manage to stay so dumb? Over on the battlefield, once both sides abandoned the clash of spells and monster beasts in favor of the most direct method of combat, this duel between two successive Whip-Wielders officially entered garbage time. In terms of condition and equipment, Foden already held an absolute advantage. Even setting those aside, Karen felt Foden was still stronger in pure capability, completely stripping Buken of any possibility to stir up trouble or pull off an upset. Therefore, Buken's furious cursing wasn't a facade, but a genuine venting of his frustration. Beneath and above the sea's surface, their figures flickered into view and vanished in rapid succession. With every thrust of Foden's spear, a circular black hole dozens of meters in diameter formed where he struck, lingering for a long time without immediately dissipating. Seawater poured in, and clouds were sucked into the voids. Soon, dozens of massive whirlpools churned across the sea, while the sky looked as though it had been punctured with dozens of gaping holes. Looking out from the ground, the sea, the sky, and everything before them seemed unreal, resembling a painting where Foden stood outside the canvas, repeatedly flicking ink onto it with a fountain pen. As the black holes in the sky sucked in clouds, folds formed along their edges. Little Kanna couldn't help muttering, "They really look like the meat buns Xili makes." Karen chuckled. "Don't talk nonsense." With each brief clash, Foden held an immense advantage, and this advantage steadily accumulated. He fought with consummate stability—so steady that Karen felt a deep sense of resonance. Normally, by Karen's habits, knowing his opponent had a soul injury would most likely prompt him to keep wearing him down with mental storms, draining him to death. But looking at it now, close combat actually offered an even greater advantage. The absolute defense provided by Augie and the absolute offensive power provided by the artifact fundamentally turned this duel into a mere formality. Yet what Karen admired was that Buken had said he wouldn't run, and he truly didn't run. Although obscenities never stopped spilling from his mouth, his body obediently held its ground, wearing itself down as he awaited death. He was a former Whip-Wielder after all; this much dignity remained. More likely, though, Foden had dared to strike at him here, going so far as to use a special method to disrupt his travel divination. The pretense had been completely shattered. Even if Buken escaped, he could never return to the Church; he would be reduced to an apostate of Order. To him, that was probably harder to accept than death. "Bang!" Another collision ended. Buken knew he had reached his limit. "Foden, I concede! Leave me an intact corpse!" Foden ignored him and thrust with another strike. "Bang!" Sensing his body on the verge of collapsing, Buken shouted harshly, "Can I not even enter the First Knight Order?!" Foden paused slightly and shook his head. "You are no longer qualified to enter. Ever since you contacted that organization... what the First Knight Order needs are devout believers who, upon being awakened, will without hesitation sacrifice their second life for Order. You are no longer one of them." "Do you know what news I got from that organization? That High Priest of yours hasn't made any preparations to welcome the return of our Lord at all! Your High Priest has betrayed our Lord!" Foden frowned slightly. Seeing this, Buken grinned savagely. "Haha! Surprised, aren't you?" Buken had misunderstood. He assumed Foden was astonished by the news itself, when in fact Foden was astonished by how such top-secret information could have leaked. Only those closest to the High Priest, in frequent contact with him, could have sensed even the slightest hint of this. No wonder the High Priest tested me again and wanted to rescreen his inner core. Foden's gaze sank slightly. That meant the High Priest had realized there was a traitor within their circle. Back then, although Morindi had stepped forward to oppose and denounce the High Priest, enduring prolonged imprisonment at his hands, she hadn't caused any substantive harm to their group. The loss was limited to forfeiting an exceptional and promising archmage of the undead. But this current person had leaked such an intensely classified secret. Their intention was already obvious. So which one was it? Buken said, "This is my only demand—or call it a plea. Let me enter the First Knight Order. I can commit suicide, or stand here and let you humiliate me to your heart's content before choosing how I die." Foden shook his head. "You are no longer loyal to the High Priest." "Is he worthy of my loyalty? That's your High Priest—the High Priest of you people—not the High Priest in my heart!" "Yet the one who issues the order to awaken the First Knight Order is him, not anyone else, and certainly not the one in your heart. Buken, when you are awakened, would you unhesitatingly dedicate your life to the cause of Order?" "If it is for the Church, of course I would! After awakening, it's only three days anyway—it's not like truly living a second life." Foden raised his spear, aiming the tip at Buken once more. "The moment you set preconditions, you disqualified yourself from the First Knight Order. Do not defile it." "Heheheh..." Buken laughed, his eyes reddening. "You bastards really know how to bully someone! You really do!" Foden meant every word sincerely, but in Buken's eyes, this was nothing but shameless persecution of the defeated by the victor. "Buken, you've been away from this position for too long." "Oh, trying to flaunt it in my face before I die?" "If you were still sitting in this seat, you would understand what I just said." "Laughable! If our positions were reversed and I treated you this way, could you be as magnanimous as you claim?" "I wouldn't set preconditions." "Of course you can say whatever sounds nice now." "Perhaps that's why we won and you lost. I don't know about that person himself, but the crowd around him—you, all of you—felt somewhat vulgar to me even back when both sides were competing. Back then, I knew—I was certain—that we would win. Order will choose its most devout defender." Buken sneered. "Yet your boss betrayed our Lord." Foden said, word by word: "Our Lord should not return!" Buken froze. Hearing those words, his gaze began to wander. He stopped looking at Foden, staring instead at his own hands and feet, turning flustered and helpless, like a confused, timid old man. He had thought Foden was ignorant of this secret, yet Foden had told him so bluntly that he knew. Buken loosened his grip, and his weapon tumbled down into the sea. Seeing this, the mutilated red octopus immediately dived into the depths to retrieve the weapon. But when it tried to hand it back to its master, it found Buken had no heart to take it; instead, he was gnawing frantically at the back of his own hand with his teeth. Foden was in no hurry to strike again, uncharacteristically remaining motionless. In truth, not even he had expected that he would one day utter such words. He had always felt tense and anxious after sensing the High Priest's secret stance. Taking the assignments handed down by the High Priest and running to Karen for answers to report back had been a crafty shortcut—both above and below were "Children of God" anyway. Only now did he realize that, imperceptibly, he had already been influenced. Karen's contribution was secondary; what mattered most was that Foden had followed the High Priest for so long. Even after divining the High Priest's inner thoughts, he had still chosen to follow him... Even if he had never admitted it out loud, deep down, he had long accepted this outcome. Buken's expression twitched and froze in turns. Most ordinary believers viewed the God of Order, the Church of Order, and Order as one and the same; the God of Order was the symbol of everything. Yet things were not so simple. Otherwise, fundamentalist groups would not exist within the Church, nor would there be so many struggles over paths and doctrinal directions. Buken couldn't deceive himself. Just as he had said he wouldn't run and didn't, he could not conceal the resonance in the deepest part of his heart with this blasphemous notion... The doctrine of Order did not state it explicitly in words, but every chapter, every section, and every passage seemed to cry out incessantly: A world without gods is a true world of Order. One could disagree with their concepts and thoughts, one could condemn them to the abyss on doctrinal, ethical, and faith grounds, but one still could not stop oneself from admiring from the bottom of one's heart their courage and audacity in daring to pursue such an ideal world. Buken's panic stemmed from finally recognizing the gap between them at this moment. Losing to this bunch of madmen... was not unjust. Buken let out a long breath and asked, "Without a god, when the gods return, what will our Church do?" This was an unavoidable practical question. Their god was the most powerful, the overlord of the late previous era. Their god was the first to show movement, the first to manifest signs of return. They could have done everything within their power to welcome their god back, allowing the Church of Order to stand in a transcendent position in the new era once more. The ideal was magnificent, but it required giving up their greatest advantage and plunging themselves into the most terrifying peril... When the deities of the other churches returned, what would the godless Church of Order do? Foden replied, "The living will die; the dead will die once more." Buken spread his hands. "But we will lose everything." It was no longer "your High Priest"—it was "we." Foden turned his head, his gaze traversing space to land on Karen, who was sitting on a chair drinking iced water at Heart Sea Manor. Sensing the Whip-Wielder's inexplicable long-distance aura lock, Karen instinctively stood up with his glass, feeling embarrassed to remain seated. His action prompted the other three to stand as well. Though they didn't know why they were standing, guests followed the host. Labota said in bewilderment, "Why are they chatting now?" Delsen said, "Yeah, it should have been over by now." Simiris suddenly joked, "Say, if the three of us joined forces, could we suppress this Whip-Wielder?" Labota analyzed seriously, "Unless each of us holds a sub-artifact, even if the three of us joined forces, he'd stab us to death spear by spear, like skewering cockroaches." Delsen reminded them, "Don't forget there's a little Foden over there. That little bone dragon just said the Whip-Wielder resembles him." Labota said, "He's too young. Even if his realm is high, it shouldn't..." Simiris countered, "What's wrong with being young? The number of priests who've died by his hand is countless times more than the three of us combined. My husband barely escaped him alive." Labota sighed, "Ah, he's heading straight for the level of a temple elder. What a pity. If we met him elsewhere, we ought to find a way to kill him." Simiris: "Killing him won't be that easy either." Karen turned his head toward them and laughed. "I say, everyone, are you always this candid?" Simiris returned the smile. "You didn't avoid speaking in front of us, so of course we don't need to avoid you. Even if we didn't say these things aloud, wouldn't everyone know them in their hearts anyway?" Labota added, "Exactly. Minister Karen, don't you want to kill us?" Karen replied, "No. You're old. Killing you has no value." Stroking the pet in his arms, Labota said ruefully, "Ouch, young people these days really don't mince words." Simiris asked, "What about me? Am I old?" She was gorgeous, with a mature, sultry allure. Moreover, she knew exactly how to use it—even more skilled than a priest of the Church of Mills. A slight frown, a smile, or the simplest gesture was enough to drive the opposite sex wild. Karen, however, had zero interest in her—not the slightest bit. This distinguished figure of the Church of Life wasn't even as attractive as Xili at home. At least when he was at home, he could let his gaze linger on the maid for a moment, openly appreciating something pleasant. When looking at her, though, Karen's mind instantly recalled the scene from when he "awakened" Daliwenluo. That woman, on an upper floor of the Defoe family manor, sipping afternoon tea while watching a boy—forcibly brought by his birth mother—kneeling in the snow until his whole body turned purple with cold. Karen replied, "You're not old. You are very beautiful." "Heheheh..." Simiris chuckled and said, "I manage my husband, but my husband can't manage me." Little Kanna immediately whipped her head around vigilantly, glaring at Simiris. Before Sister Purr had gone treasure hunting, she had specifically instructed Kanna to keep an eye on Karen on behalf of her great-great-great-great-niece. Little Kanna didn't dare glare at Karen, nor did she dare speak, so she fixed a ferocious, menacing draconic glare squarely on Simiris. Karen said, "If given the chance, I would like to kill you. Crushing something beautiful in one's hands can bring intense pleasure." Simiris's expression suddenly turned grave. She asked, "What Minister Karen just said isn't your real reason. Is there a grudge between us?" There's no grudge between us, but there is a bald guy. Simiris continued, "Minister Karen, the Holy Child of the Moon God Church died in the region under your jurisdiction. The assassin was from my Church of Life and left behind a branch of the Tree of Life. My legal son, Daliwenluo, died in the desert, yet among the severed heads of the observation delegation youths displayed by your Church, his was missing. You hid that branch away, didn't you?" "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Do you know how precious that branch is? You actually had the heart to use it as planted evidence. Heh." Karen replied, "Compared to the Tree of Life itself, a single branch is nothing." "Our Morin family is actually quite willing to convert to the Church of Order, provided Order entrusts the management of the Tree of Life to our family. So... I like your frame-up. Truly." "I met Daliwenluo. I killed him with my own hands." "Look, you admit it now. Ah, my poor legal son." "He loved you very much as his legal mother, as well as his biological father and all his blood relatives, including... the Church of Life." "He was an outstanding boy. Such a pity." Karen didn't pursue the conversation further, turning his attention back to the battlefield. Over there, it was time to wrap things up. Withdrawing his gaze from Karen, Foden said to Buken: "What is true victory, and what is true defeat? In this era, no god has descended upon the world; we have already won. Moving forward, no matter what excuse or pretext is used to bring the gods back, we would have lost utterly." Buken fell silent. After a while, he looked up at Foden again and asked curiously, "Why aren't you in a hurry now?" "Because I just had many realizations myself. Indeed, one can learn quite a bit from a loser." "Those fellows in the manor, and the framework and networks I laid down in the past—toy with them, tease them, but don't truly trust them, and never truly rely on them." "I don't need you to lecture me on that." "The organization of the Silencers—if there's an opportunity, strike at them. Their stance is the opposite of ours." "You're rambling." "Someone beside the High Priest joined long ago." "I guessed as much just now." "Hey, Foden, it couldn't be you, could it?" "You overestimate me." I'm too busy being the filling in a sandwich to have the energy to be a mole. "Actually, what happened back then was my fault. I struck too hard and left you with an incurable root ailment. I've always wanted to apologize, but never had the chance." "It's fine, understandable. I didn't have much chance of reaching the Temple of Order anyway. There are too many matters dividing my attention, and I don't have the energy to focus on cultivation." "Just say your talent wasn't enough. Why make excuses?" "Hmph." "Did my boss really die?" "I can't say." "Your boss is far more magnanimous than you." "Are you done yet? Drop the pose. Let me just pierce and detonate you with one spear thrust. Nothing will be left anyway." "Heh." Buken looked at himself, then at the blood-red octopus beside him. "It has a symbiosis contract with me. If I die, it won't survive either." Foden responded without emotion, "Oh." "Since I can't enter the First Knight Order, let's not let things go to waste." A faint smile curled Foden's lips, as if understanding his intention. "Got an idea?" "I do," Buken said, "though I don't want you to benefit from it." The blood-red octopus made whining sounds. A monster beast adept at divination was very intelligent. Buken continued, "Yeah, and I won't let that dragon beside you benefit either." Foden: "I couldn't care less." "Do you trust me? On this matter." Foden shook his head. "No." "Huh?" Foden sighed. "I have to ask for his opinion." "Hey, you're his superior. Since when are you so polite to your subordinates? As Whip-Wielder, you're really regressing." "Heh." If you sat in my seat, you'd probably be worse off than me. "I'll give my legacy to him, and give my octopus to the dragon beside him to eat. As much as she can eat, she eats. Whatever the case, he counts as two generations below me." Foden: "Heheheh, hahahahaha!" Buken asked in confusion, "I'm taking advantage of you in seniority. What are you laughing at?" With the artifact in his right hand, Foden covered his mouth with the back of his left hand, laughing as he said, "Nothing. Take advantage if it makes you happy." How pitiable, Buken. Even now, you still don't know what injured your soul. "Find a quiet place. You watch by the side. I'm afraid I might accidentally burst him from overstuffing, which would be bad." "You're overthinking it." "True. How could you allow such a thing to happen?" "All right, let me stab you with one more spear." "Come on." Buken stood motionless. Foden hurled the sub-artifact spear, piercing into Buken's shoulder. The spear then dissolved into golden runes, remaining inside his body. This restriction, mediated through an artifact, was the most crucial layer of insurance. Both had served as Order's top secret agent chiefs; at all times, they upheld absolute caution. Buken touched his shoulder and said, "A bath, a clean divine robe, and a meal—let me send myself off with dignity. Is that alright?" "That's fine." "Let him attend to me on this final stretch of the road. After all, he's getting such a huge bargain." "Are you dreaming?" "Is he that proud? Would he refuse?" "No, he would agree." "Then..." "I don't agree." I only dare to pat him on the shoulder, and you actually want him to bathe you and cook for you? "I can't even enter the First Knight Order. Can't you take pity on me?" The treatment you're asking for isn't even enjoyed by the First Knight Order. "No." "Sigh." Buken sighed, and his figure suddenly vanished from where he stood. Foden instinctively reached out. He could have stopped him—with a single thought, the restriction left inside Buken's body would completely lock him down, or even shred him in an instant. Yet after a moment's hesitation, he didn't do so. Buken appeared at Heart Sea Manor. Labota, Simiris, and Delsen immediately took out sacred artifacts and scrolls, entering defensive stances. "Ah!" Daina let out a terrified shriek and, by military instinct, moved to step in front of Karen, but Karen raised an arm to hold her back. Little Kanna grabbed Karen's hand, ready at any moment to bite down and transform into armor to defend him. Karen looked at Buken with a smile. Buken walked up to Karen and asked, "Are you putting on a brave front, or are you truly not afraid?" "Truly not afraid." "Why? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" "Because I know you once served as the Whip-Wielder." "Interesting. Don't worry..." Buken raised his hand and snapped his fingers, setting up a barrier enclosing only Karen and himself. "Your Whip-Wielder has a root ailment left by me. So rest assured, he won't be in that seat for too long. Your rise won't be far off. Hurry up and thank me." "I will pray for the Whip-Wielder's health and well-being." "Heh, you brat. Fine, no more teasing. I lost. Couldn't beat him." "Yes, I saw." "He cheated. Using an artifact and bringing a dragon—it's unfair, isn't it?" "A little bit." "I'm giving my octopus to your dragon to eat, and my own things to you. Do you want them?" "Personally, I do not." "Oh?" "However, this is the property of the Whip of Order. It is my duty to protect it and prevent its loss." "Heh, but I have one more request." "Please go ahead." "I want a good meal, a comfortable bath, and a change into clean clothes, before finally sending myself off. I want you to do all these personally. Are you willing?" "I worked my way up from the grassroots." "I'm asking if you're willing—don't change the subject! If you're not, forget it. I'll just find an empty stretch of sea and blow myself up. At least I can blast some fish for fun." "When I was an Order servant, I worked in an Inquisition branch. That Inquisition branch was a funeral parlor." "And?" "When it comes to end-of-life care services, I am a professional."