God's Shepherd!

So fragrant... Standing guard outside the office door, Bern caught that scent once more, even richer and heavier than before. Just how exaggerated was it? When Bern looked down, he saw a radiant glow steadily spilling out from the crack beneath the door. It flowed forth like liquid water, then transformed into vapor, drifting, expanding, and diffusing into the air. Bern's eyes widened. For the first time, he realized that a person's thoughts could exert such a tangible, physical influence on the surrounding environment. This was not aura, not presence, not fluctuations of power, nor did it even belong to the mental plane. Furthermore, the defensive arrays within his office were exceptionally tight, yet they still could not contain the overflow of this radiance. How terrifyingly concentrated must it be inside? Bern was deeply shaken, yet he felt no surprise. After confirming the identity of the person inside, nothing incomprehensible that happened around him could truly surprise Bern anymore; it only felt natural. Still, the sensation of witnessing a miracle with his own eyes was hard to put into words. It inevitably reminded him of how the people around Karen treated him—a deference that far exceeded that of subordinates toward a superior. Bern hadn't understood it before, but now it dawned on him, accompanied by a touch of jealousy. Those expressions and everyday interactions were clearly the result of having been stunned countless times, stunned to the point of numbness. Then he recalled Vic's hint to him: he had said there weren't many empty seats left. It seemed that on this track, people had gathered at Karen's side long ago. He wasn't in the first wave, nor could he even be considered part of the second. Yet Bern didn't mind. His ambitions were practically the exact opposite of Alfred's. Alfred harbored a deep obsession with making it onto the murals, whereas Bern preferred to live in the shadows. Yet judging by the current situation, Karen clearly had no intention of letting him return to the ranks of schemers. Karen's arrangement was for him to die in office, and then "live" in office. It made sense. Leon was the Yorktown Regional Chief, and he was the Head Bishop. In this way, their control over the region couldn't be any tighter. "The old Head Bishop..." Bern thought of Wolflen, his former superior who had paved the way for Karen with his own death. "You found the best possible path for your grandson." Even now, Bern remained unaware of what was truly taking place inside his office. By the traditions of the various religions of the previous era, this office of his would have been severed from space, forged into a miniature world, and enshrined as a sacred sanctum. Every single item within—from the desk to the lamp, the sofa, even every floor tile and scrap of paper—would be revered as an extraordinarily precious "holy relic" of the church. And Bern... He only thought about returning to this office to continue working once Karen finished and came out. ... Inside the office, dense threads covered every corner. Each thread was an infinitesimally fine Chain of Order, weaving, circling, and crisscrossing. This scene was practically a miniature reenactment of what Karen had once witnessed when the God of Order mechanically responded to the prayers of believers. At this moment, the solemnity on Karen's face remained, but the worry and gloom previously mingled within it had been thoroughly swept away. Sitting there, he radiated a soaring vigor, like the morning sun. True courage stemmed not from ignorance, but from resolute drive once the path grew clear; true optimism came not from naivety, but from calm composure after making a definitive choice. Karen's eyes were now crystal clear, yet without any distinct focus. He was not looking forward, but looking inward, looking at the silhouettes lined up behind him. At the victory banquet at Augurev Fortress, a bigwig from Order's diplomatic corps had once invited Karen to join them. Though it was only in jest at the time, it was undeniable that Karen's background and presence were remarkably suited for diplomatic occasions. He never had stage fright, always brimming with confidence and composure. Like now, Karen seemed to be delivering a speech. When reaching an emotional high, his voice rose in pitch, yet this time, there were no rhetorical tricks, only the purest outpouring of emotion: "Defeat does not belong to the faithful of Order. "Even if we are ultimately swallowed by this calamity, even if we are washed away in the long river of history, we have nonetheless stamped the indelible brand of Order upon this era. "The writings of this era, the history of this era, the people who have lived through this era—they will sing and pass down our story, letting those who come after know that such a wonderful world once existed. "Even when facing profound darkness, those who come after will still have light in their eyes; "they will not sink into suffering until they become entirely numb, because they will know that hope must exist. "Even if the gods truly return, "will they, "will they dare treat this world like a livestock pasture as they did in past eras? "Will they dare treat humanity as mere raw material, to be consumed and discarded at will while still being forced to bow in worship? "No, "impossible, "they will not dare. "Because they are afraid, "afraid that the spark of Order will be kindled again, "afraid that another Church of Order will rise to shut out divine influence, "afraid that another God of Order will appear to drive these lofty deities out of this era!" Karen took on a pensive look, pausing his speech. After a moment, he smiled again: "'After my death, what care I if the deluge follows.' "For no matter how fierce the slander and defamation, even if this world is thoroughly overturned and washed away, they still cannot erase the trace that we once were here! "I believe in the wisdom of posterity. "By posterity, I do not mean the next generation of believers in the Church of Order, but humanity itself. I believe that no matter what setbacks and suppression human civilization encounters, it will ultimately lift its head, look toward those towering figures in the sky, and question from the bottom of its heart: By what right do you stand above us? "My High Priest, "Norton..." Karen crossed his arms before his chest and spoke with sincere reverence: "Thank you for your teachings." ... The Administrative Temple of Order. The High Priest sat before the desk, resuming his past routine, handling the church's various affairs amid documents delivered from all directions. Ahead, within an enclosure of flowing water invisible to outsiders, Norton sat inside. A lit cigar rested upon an ashtray, untouched for a long time; the book resting on the coffee table had not been turned to another page since he last read it. Although the wound between his brows had vanished, Norton's expression remained somewhat listless. Last time, sparing no expense to borrow the power of that "turtle," he had forcibly witnessed the fates of those Order branch gods through his connection with Tyrannus. To gaze directly upon gods was taboo, and he had looked at so many all at once. If he were not the High Priest of the Church of Order, if those had not been legally designated branch gods of Order, and if he had not made so many preparations, he might have ceased to exist already. Even so, he had paid a tremendous price. Yet he did not regret it. Quite the opposite, he was genuinely happy; that pleasure welled up from the bottom of his heart. He was now willing to loudly praise the "God of Order"—not because she was a god, but because on this path, she walked ahead of him. At this moment, a third "High Priest" appeared in front of Norton. Norton's current state was in fact extremely precarious, for his ego consciousness was in an intensely weakened state, which gave the previously suppressed Tyrannus an opportunity. Tyrannus looked at Norton, asking with mild curiosity, "I originally thought that after seeing all that, you would be deeply disappointed." Norton shook his head and replied, "I originally thought that you would be the most steadfast followers and defenders of Order." "We are." "No, you are not. What you follow is merely the God of Order." "Is there any difference?" "It is hard to imagine that such words would come from the mouth of Tyrannus himself. You are the one who founded the Church of Order and penned the Light of Order." "God said we should have a church, so we created a church. God said we should have a complete doctrine, so I authored the Light of Order. "We forever follow God's will. "It is only... "that God betrayed us. "Norton, in truth, you are the same. You are doing the very same thing God once did. The Church of Order, which could have continued to endure, will walk into demise by your hands. "Without divine protection, in an era where the gods return, Order cannot possibly survive." Norton smiled. "Do you know? Sometimes I resist communicating with you, not because I fear being bewitched by you, but because I have always felt that you cannot represent the true Tyrannus." "Oh?" "The real Tyrannus could not possibly be so shallow." "Then what of the real Tyrannus? You saw his fate as well. What did he gain?" "Sigh." Norton exhaled a breath and urged, "If you want to try, start now. Don't wait until I recuperate and recover." "In truth, there is indeed resentment in our hearts. Yet our Lord remains our Lord. I believe that all of us are awaiting our Lord's return." Norton picked up the cigar that had been burning for so long, gently tapped off the long column of ash, and said, "On that point, I believe you. You truly are awaiting God's return—not merely a return in form, but a return in choice." "Yes, precisely. So long as our Lord is willing to return, she would not even need to apologize to us. All it would take is a single sentence: 'I have returned.' "And all of us would once again assemble beneath our Lord's banner. "What if the gods return? So what? "Did we fight few divine wars in the previous era? "We helped our Lord dominate the previous era; in this era, it is nothing more than fighting it all over again. "Even if beings far more powerful from multiple eras ago descend and return in this era, what of it? "We were only worried that fighting through it all again, slaughtering our way through once more, would be dull and tedious. We would love nothing more than a few new tricks and changes to add some fun." Norton puffed on his cigar, watching Tyrannus quietly. Tyrannus continued, "We hope that when our Lord has played enough and had her fill of fun, she can return to our side. Even an entire era of torment and torture—we can treat it as nothing more than a dream. We will not care. "Because in this world, we are unequivocally the beings most loyal to our Lord!" Norton pursed his lips. "I am truly curious: what kind of creatures are you all, really?" "Norton, do you know what you are saying?" "I know. If you are truly like this, then my Lord is truly pitiable. He is so lonely, so profoundly alone." "Are you lamenting that you were not born in the previous era?" "Yes, indeed. I would be willing to follow such a Lord to forge a grand blueprint." "And then she would imprison and torture you." "I would face it with a smile." "If that were truly possible, you really would have had a chance, Norton. You had the qualifications to make an attempt at the position of a branch god in the previous era. Even if you failed, if you performed meritorious deeds and gained our Lord's favor, she would have found another way to seat you among the branch gods. "Unfortunately, in this era, you cannot do it. "Neither can that other person." Norton smiled. "It seems you have been surreptitiously peeking at quite a few memories in my head." "Anyone who can condense three godhead fragments would inevitably have attained godhood in the previous era. But this era lacks the crucial factor that allows divinity to endure. "The spark cannot be sustained; a godhead cannot be formed. "Each fragment is merely a created spark. "And even that, our Lord takes away. "She has always been mortgaging the future of our church." "By 'future,' you mean leaving an exclusive slit for our church, granting our church's believers a chance to attain godhood, is that it?" "Do you not think that is the optimal choice? To sever the possibility of branch gods appearing in other religions, to stifle the soil for new gods outside to emerge, and to grant only the believers of Order the chance to become gods. "If our Lord had arranged things that way, our Church of Order would have had no need to go through the trouble of promoting any Code of Order. "The entire religious circle would have been swept clean by our church in this era already. "Our church would have become the sole religion of this world." Even without a god, the Church of Order was already the foremost religion of the present world. If gods were to appear and bless it with divine power, it would have been a waking nightmare for all other religions. It could be said that what Tyrannus described—destroying the entire religious circle and leaving only the Church of Order—was no mere fantasy, but a reality that would have had a very high probability of coming to pass. Tyrannus walked up before Norton, staring into his eyes. "There would have been some operational difficulties, but our Lord could absolutely have achieved it. At most, the time he sat upon that seat would have been much shorter, but even so, it would have been more than enough. "Once Order destroyed the foundations of faith for all other deities in this world, what could the gods do even if they returned? "They would become utterly enfeebled, like rootless, withered wood. "Do you know? The original plan was supposed to be like this. But our Lord betrayed us." Norton's eyes narrowed slightly. He asked, "Is that last sentence of yours true?" "Do you not believe me?" "I don't even believe you can represent Tyrannus. Do you think I'd believe you?" "Norton, do you not want to become a god? Yet because of our Lord, you cannot touch that supreme plane of life. And that includes the one capable of condensing three godhead fragments. I imagine that in his heart, he harbors immense resentment toward our Lord as well. "Because our Lord not only snuffed out his possibility of attaining godhood, but also treats him as rations." Norton shook his head. "Compared to gods, I even find prostitutes holy and noble." Exhaling a smoke ring, Norton continued, "As for that person, I do not know. We will need to make contact." "You hold illusions about him? You think he will stand on your side?" "I am the High Priest of the Church of Order. He poses no threat to me, but I would be glad to see such an outstanding person acknowledge me." "I will ask you one last time, Norton: do you not crave the plan I described?" "Heh, no, not in the least. Destroying all other churches, obliterating every foundation of faith besides Order—what meaning would that hold for me, or for my Lord? "It would be nothing more than moving from one world of gods into another world of gods. "When our church becomes the only one, who will be left to restrain our church?" "Surrender your body, your soul, your everything to me. Even if our Lord is unwilling to return, I will find a way to harness the power of the Church of Order and summon back us 'Lords' first. "Even if our Lord never turns back in the end, "with us here, "it will be enough to protect the Church of Order." "I told you long ago to strike earlier, yet you always insist on 'persuading' me. See? You've granted me another moment of respite to recover, and your chances of success have dropped again." "It doesn't matter." Tyrannus shook his head. "When the gods return, we will return just the same. Even if the Church of Order is destroyed, with us here, we can rebuild a new Church of Order." Norton's gaze turned stern, as if subjected to an intolerable affront. He snarled in fury, "The likes of you dare to defile 'Order'?" "That is not for you to decide..." Tyrannus reached out a hand toward Norton. Yet right at that moment, a whisper suddenly arose, like the murmur of a god... no, this was a divine oracle! ["My High Priest, Norton..."] "Aaahhhhhh!!!!!!" Norton looked around somewhat blankly. He did not know where this voice had come from; everything was just like what had occurred that day at the garrison of the First Knight Order. Tyrannus, meanwhile, let out a piercing shriek. His counterattack, timed to exploit Norton's wounded and weakened state, had failed before it could even begin. Because at this moment, Norton received the blessing of a "divine oracle," and the duration of this empowerment was more than enough for Norton to recuperate back to his peak condition. Yet the protected Norton showed no joy; instead, his expression turned bewildered and lost. Nor was the screeching Tyrannus angry; instead, he laughed malevolently and maniacally: "Hahaha! Did you hear that, Norton? Our Lord has returned! She truly has returned, and she will soon be back at our side!" Norton's face went ashen. He turned to look at the massive mural of the God of Order on the wall of the Administrative Temple: "Lord, have You truly gone back on Your word?" ... "I finally understand where I should place God." Sitting on the sofa, Karen closed his eyes once more. Before coming here, he had never imagined that a single "awakening" granted to Bern could bring him such profound enlightenment. Of course, this wasn't solely due to Bern. It was merely that his previous reflections, quests, insights, the impact of the First Knight Order, and the several devourings by the hunger addiction had allowed him to accumulate enough foundational groundwork, both in faith and in reality. At this moment, an accumulation of quantitative change was finally triggering a qualitative leap. Deep within his soul, the swamp. The Hunger Addiction Sculpture was bound there, bearing the agony that Karen had transferred onto it. Upon seeing Karen, the [Scythe of War] grew excited once more, swaying back and forth. Karen, however, paid no attention to the scythe. He simply walked calmly up before the Hunger Addiction Sculpture, raised his head, and looked up at the towering statue standing in his soul. The eyes of the Hunger Addiction Sculpture also slowly drifted downward, gazing upon Karen. Karen smiled. In the next moment, chains emerged from the mire one after another, binding Karen as well. This was not a counterattack from the hunger addiction; it was entirely Karen's own initiative. He bound himself together with the Hunger Addiction Sculpture. In the past, Karen had done everything in his power to evade the hunger addiction; now, he was actively establishing a connection with it. The Hunger Addiction Sculpture began to tremble. It seemed to foresee something—it raged, it roared, it was... panicking. Endless ages ago, there had once been a person who stood before it just like this, wearing the exact same smile. He has returned! He has returned! He has returned! Ancient, long-buried memories were reawakened. The hunger addiction had already realized what sort of end awaited it. The thread-like chains that had been looping around the office all retracted into Karen's body. Outside the door, Bern noticed that the overflowing fragrance vanished in an instant. Within the soul space, Karen spread his arms. His body was lifted by chains, raised high into the air. The Hunger Addiction Sculpture wanted to break free of its current restraints, but due to the [Blade of Sighs], it could not succeed. In truth, even without the [Blade of Sighs], it would have found escape nearly impossible, for this was Karen's soul. Only Karen could evade it; once Karen actively sought it out, it had nowhere to hide. Karen landed atop the head of the Hunger Addiction Sculpture. Upon the colossal sculpture stood a single man. "The place of God should be here." Chains of Order completely bound Karen and the Hunger Addiction Sculpture together. The Hunger Addiction Sculpture attempted to devour Karen. Karen's consciousness was annihilated time and again, yet re-condensed time and again, because the Karen present here was no longer a mere ego consciousness. He had established "God" right here, making himself part of divinity—which meant part of the hunger addiction. He had stepped on God, trampling it beneath his feet. Like a piece of meat tied in front of one's face, moving wherever one moved—no matter how far you ran in pursuit, no matter how close you drew to it, you could never take a bite of it into your mouth. The Hunger Addiction Sculpture fell into a frenzy, but all its struggles would prove futile. Even it knew this, no matter how unwilling it was to accept it. For this same scene, this identical encounter—it had experienced it once before. Now, it was reliving it for the second time, detail for detail. It felt as if the one standing atop its head was not Karen, but that person. He... once again stood upon that spot! Crack... A minuscule trace of sculpture debris flaked away from the corner of the statue's eye. Relative to the statue's massive size, it was utterly insignificant. Yet if an accomplished master sculptor were to examine this tiny mark at the eye's corner closely, they would discover that the detailed lines of the brow and eye had already changed. And if one compared it to Karen's facial contours, one would find that the origin of this subtle change mirrored Karen himself. In other words, the Hunger Addiction Sculpture was gradually transforming into Karen's likeness! Although this was merely a beginning, and no one knew how long it would take to completely transform it into his own image, the hardest first step had already been accomplished. For Karen knew well that the moment the Hunger Addiction Sculpture completely became himself would mark the success of his God's Shepherd breakthrough! Down in the swamp, the [Scythe of War], which had been so eager to strike Karen earlier, froze instantly, not daring to twitch. Among divine artifacts, it was unquestionably of the proudest, top tier. Yet facing the Karen of this moment, it recalled the feeling of standing before that entity all those years ago. It dared to strike Karen, but it did not dare show the slightest insolence before the God of Order. One could say that at this very moment, Karen was truly qualified to stand upon this path. The frenzy of the Hunger Addiction Sculpture could not perturb the calm within Karen's heart. Still wearing a smile, he lifted his head to gaze upward, seeming to see, across boundless ages, that lonely silhouette sitting in solitude with his back turned to the entire era: "You are God, but I know that you do not want your believers to worship you as 'God.' "Therefore, my God's Shepherd is not inviting 'God' into my soul, but inviting you. "I will still not worship you, nor will I praise you. "Yet I promise you that when you are tired, when you can hold on no longer... "when you are gone, "I will become you."