Rebellion!

At this moment, Foden dearly wished the two High Priests would share a smile and say to him: "So easily frightened? It was just a joke." Because if the High Priest of the Church of Order lost control or lost himself, the consequences were simply too terrifying. Especially this one. The weight of his authority ranked at the very pinnacle of the church's history. Not only did he maintain a profound grip over the Holy See, but he was also fortified by the full legitimacy of divine right. Even Budalas, who over a thousand years ago had led the church to victory in its clash against the Light, had never held a status as exalted as his was now. Yet the hopeful outcome Foden prayed for did not materialize. As the two High Priests locked eyes, the clear antagonism between them was unmistakable. It was neither an act nor could it possibly be a joke. Foden's heart instantly sank. It was bad. Things had truly turned terrible... As a member of his direct inner circle, he had long known that his boss had been dedicated to suppressing the consciousness of Tyrannus, a struggle that had later escalated to the point where, at regular intervals, he had to "slaughter a batch of himself." Yet out of trust and admiration for his boss, Foden had always believed he could resolve the problem. As the Whip-Wielder, it was his duty to monitor the church for lapses in faith, yet he had truly never worried that his boss might go astray, let alone made any advance preparations for such an event. Of course... before this man, any preparations he could make would have been futile anyway. Now, the bloody reality tore itself open before him at the most unexpected moment. At the Garden of Life, they would face the cruelest, most unpredictable divine war in just one week. Under his forceful leadership, the Church of Order had embarked on the arduous path of confronting the returning gods. And now, he, the guide leading the way, had simply lost himself? The two High Priests confronted each other for a long time before the one holding the book spoke to Foden: "That coffin you personally escorted last time—it's time to bring it back. Make another trip." Wasn't Karen already ordered to take charge of that coffin? An edict you handed down to Karen personally. The covert mission team Foden had sent out had already reported back to him. The High Priest holding the cigar spoke: "Call Karen back to report on the situation at the Garden of Life." Didn't you already listen to Karen's report through the communication array? Then was the High Priest who gave Karen those orders earlier one of the two of you, or was it yet another High Priest? Or have you already forgotten what you did? Foden stood up impassively and bowed. "Yes, High Priest. I shall see to it immediately." After stepping out of the tea corner, Foden glanced back toward the desk. Normally, a High Priest would be seated there, handling church affairs. At this moment, a High Priest was indeed sitting behind the desk. But his hands were clasped beneath his chin, his gaze fixed squarely on Foden, who had just walked out of the tea area. If the two High Priests at the tea table had still borne traces and shadows of his boss, then from this one, Foden felt a terrifying strangeness. He seemed to be smiling at Foden—a smile Foden, after serving his boss for so long, had never once seen upon his face. The murals along the walls of the administrative temple featured Tyrannus as their primary subject. Tyrannus's true face was rarely shown in these murals; deliberate blurring or selective angles were typically employed out of deference. Yet now, the murals seemed to come alive, similar smiles appearing across their faces, mocking and deriding Foden. In an instant, an overwhelming wave of despair crashed over him. Foden swayed slightly, nearly collapsing to the floor. Yet once his senses cleared, the murals returned to stillness, as though everything had merely been his own imagination. But Foden knew with absolute certainty: that had been no hallucination! Foden turned around and hurried out of the temple. As he walked, countless thoughts flashed through Foden's mind. Could his boss quickly pull himself together? And he himself... did he need to do something right now? Yes, even the most extreme thought had surfaced in Foden's mind. The beads of sweat oozing from his forehead betrayed his internal agony: Should I take the initiative and bring the High Priest under control? Such a treasonous notion could never have crossed Foden's mind before. He was loyal to Norton, but he was first and foremost a devout believer in Order. As the Whip-Wielder of Order, he simply could not bring himself to blindfold his own eyes and pretend nothing was wrong. As he neared the temple exit, Foden tried to console himself: It hasn't reached the absolute worst stage yet. At least, while the High Priest's current edicts have issues, they're still within the bounds of comprehension. The High Priest hasn't made any outrageous decisions yet. Yet as he stepped out of the temple and the sunlight shone down on him, Foden's heart sank into darkness: If I wait until the High Priest makes an outrageous decision, won't any remedial action be too late? Descending the steps, Foden saw Mobiten standing there. If he were to adopt the most extreme measure of control, even setting aside any resistance from the High Priest's own immense power, how was he supposed to deal with this man and the guard unit under his command? Foden felt that even if he informed Mobiten of the High Priest's condition, Mobiten would never agree. His family held the hereditary post of Captain of the High Priest's Guard; they were loyal not to the man, but to the office. He had no reason to take such a gamble with Foden—it violated his creed. And if he couldn't get Mobiten to stand down, with such an elite guard perpetually protecting the administrative temple, how could Foden ever hope to control the High Priest? Inform the Temple and request aid from the Temple Elders? Heh. They would probably assume he was once again digging a pit for them to jump into on the High Priest's orders. A carriage drew up before the temple gates, and Cardinal Kred stepped out. Seeing Foden descending, he offered him a smile. In the past, they had long grown accustomed to these consecutive summons from the High Priest. This time, however, Foden took the initiative to ask, "The High Priest summoned you?" Kred replied with some bewilderment, "Yes. What's gotten into you?" Evidently, the Cardinal had noticed something off about his old colleague—he actually seemed flustered. Among their circle, Foden had always been renowned for his grim, icy composure. "It's nothing. Go on in." Foden waved his hand, brushed past Kred, and climbed into his carriage. Inside the carriage, Vigulin moved to offer a blanket to the Whip-Wielder. But before she could finish the motion, he snatched it from her hands and clutched it to his chest. Vigulin's eyes widened. She saw the Whip-Wielder curled up on the seat, his mouth parted, shivering as though overcome by an uncontrollable chill. "Whip-Wielder, I'll arrange for a priest to—" "Shut up." Vigulin clamped her mouth shut at once, even lowering her head and closing her eyes. The carriage rolled away. Through the window, Foden watched the administrative temple recede into the distance. He had a premonition: very soon, matters would unfold toward his worst possible prognosis. Returning to headquarters, Foden walked into his office. The moment the door closed, a chill frost descended, freezing even the ice pool where Augie resided. Foden sat in his chair, his gaze somewhat hollow. Augie, who had only just recovered after having his head crushed underfoot by Diss while possessed by the God of Order, dared not break through the ice to poke his head out and see what was wrong with his master. He simply stayed deep in the ice pool, quietly blowing bubbles. Foden had no intention of obeying the High Priest's edicts, but he still activated the communication array on his desk: "Connect me with Karen." Soon, Vigulin replied through the array: "Whip-Wielder, Miss Daina says Department Head Karen has gone to investigate the Black Sea and is away for the moment. I've instructed her that once Department Head Karen returns—" Snap! Foden cut off the communication. After sitting in silence for a short while, a black crow flew out from an independent teleportation array in the office and landed on Foden's desk. Immediately afterward, a second crow flew out in the same manner and landed nearby. Foden waved his hand, and the messages carried by the two crows appeared: Urgent Report: Unusual movement from Cardinal Kred. Urgent Report: Unusual movement from Administrator Xisa of the containment space. The two crows soon burst into flames on their own, erasing all traces. "Heh..." Foden chuckled. Both Kred and Xisa had Whip of Order informants around them, and more than one. Some informants needed to remain deeply concealed, while others were kept out in the open, understood implicitly by both sides. The ones who had just delivered the intelligence were the semi-public informants. This did not mean the two had actually made suspicious moves; rather, at this critical juncture, they were using this method to sound out Foden's stance. ... In contrast to Wien's bleak, cold climate, Saint Anties was blessed with bright, abundant sunshine. Before an open-air coffee stall in Friendship Square sat several chairs. Farther away, pigeons cooed softly from time to time. Three people arrived here by tacit agreement and sat down. They were Foden, Kred, and Xisa. However, Kred and Xisa wore masks that concealed their true appearances; only Foden, though dressed in a trench coat rather than divine robes, had retained his actual face. Kred raised a hand and called to the stall owner, "Three coffees." Foden corrected, "Two coffees, and one glass of ice water." Xisa asked with a smile, "Is this the secret meeting place you arranged?" Foden took the glass of ice water brought out first, took a sip, and replied, "Didn't you two want to know whose side I'm on? I'm using concrete action to show you: we are on the same side right now." Kred and Xisa exchanged a glance, then took off their masks to reveal their true faces. When the couple running the stall served the coffee, they muttered something among themselves, along the lines of "We must be exhausted lately, seeing things." Indeed, as long as they confirmed that Foden was on their side, there was no need to worry about security and secrecy. Three titans of the Church of Order could sit right in the middle of a bustling square and discuss the church's highest secrets. As for what "that side" specifically meant, it was quite simple: those who had noticed the High Priest's abnormality and stood trembling on the sidelines together. Xisa began, "The boss is having problems. He ordered me to unseal the 'Silver Dust Knuckles' that were just sealed in the containment space, and then dispatch people to deliver them to the Garden of Life to be secretly hidden and guarded." The "Silver Dust Knuckles" were Augurev's exclusive divine artifact, a melee weapon worn over the fingers. Legend had it that within each ring segment, imprints of vicious melee beasts had been sealed, gathered by Augurev with the assistance of other branch gods. However, in this epoch, having had no opportunity for use, the artifact had gradually developed hairline fractures, its power greatly diminished. In terms of practicality and constructive capability, it fell far short of the Scythe of War. Yet because it was an artifact of a branch god of their church, it had always been preserved like an offering. Not long ago, after the collective signs of apostasy appeared among the returning branch gods led by Augurev, it had been the High Priest himself who ordered all divine artifacts left behind by those branch gods to be transferred into the deepest level of the containment space and sealed away, preventing them from summoning their weapons to bolster their strength upon their return. Yet now, it was once again the High Priest ordering this artifact unsealed, and even having it specially delivered to the Garden of Life. This was practically handing it over on a silver platter, as if terrified Augurev wouldn't be able to get his hands on it when he returned. Foden said, "Things on my end are a bit better. The High Priest merely issued contradictory edicts." Kred took a sip of his coffee without speaking. Xisa asked, "Has the boss truly run into trouble this time?" Foden sighed. "The boss might have failed in suppressing Tyrannus." "Heh, heheh..." Xisa chuckled. "Why couldn't he fail earlier?" Hearing this, Foden and Kred instinctively looked toward Xisa. Xisa countered, "What? Don't tell me you two aren't thinking the same thing?" Had he failed earlier, everyone could have accepted it. They were loyal to their boss, but if the boss became Tyrannus, bluntly speaking... the boss would still be the boss. Emotionally it might be hard to stomach at first, but rationally they would ultimately bow, acknowledge him, and obey. After all, Tyrannus's presence held deterrent power not only over the Temple. If the boss had run into trouble earlier and failed his suppression sooner, everyone could have adapted to it earlier. Whatever adjustments needed to be made to their policies, they could have worked together to carry them out. And in terms of difficulty, wouldn't it be much simpler for everyone to take a bath, don brand-new divine robes, and welcome their "Lords" back? Yet right now, following the boss's instructions, they had laid out schemes long ago. Round after round of struggle, fighting tooth and nail to seize power, take control of the church, unify their consensus, and steer the church down the path of preventing the gods' return... and in the end, everything had to be overturned and restarted from scratch? Foden sighed. "Right now, we can only pray the boss comes to his senses soon. If it's just sending the Silver Dust Knuckles over, it's still somewhat comprehensible for now—perhaps it's the influence of Tyrannus's consciousness, feeling the need to grant his former companion a measure of dignity and respect..." Xisa retorted, "Foden, do you even believe what you're saying?" Foden shrugged. "I'm doing my best to make something up. Are we supposed to discuss how to confine and restrict the boss right now, so he can no longer exert influence over the church?" Kred spoke up: "I think that's worth considering." Foden and Xisa both turned their gazes to Kred. Kred pursed his lips and said: "The High Priest ordered me to withdraw two of the three knight orders deployed to the Garden of Life." Silence. Silence. Silence... It was Kred who broke the silence again, but his next words created an even longer silence: "The High Priest also ordered me to cease construction of fortifications at all other descent locations." In this catastrophe of the gods' return, the Church of Order possessed a colossal advantage: they could discern the batch-by-batch return locations of the first major wave of deities in advance. They could make early preparations and strike the moment the deities returned and were at their weakest. Now, the High Priest was ordering them to abandon these preliminary preparations. Foden drained his glass of ice water in one gulp and marveled grimly, "I can hardly believe this is real." Kred nodded. Xisa said, "We could just accept it, couldn't we?" Before Foden and Kred could reply, Xisa slammed the table himself: "Except I really can't accept it!" The growth of any political faction often depends on the guidance of its standard-bearer, yet it inevitably develops an inertia of its own. Along the way, Norton had been exceptionally strict in forging and vetting his inner circle. Even after becoming High Priest, this process of repeated purification had never ceased, instilling in them a transcendent conviction that went far beyond mundane transactional interests. Therefore, even if Norton himself wanted to change course now, the political faction he had built with his own hands would sweep him along with its momentum. The three sitting here knew full well that if Norton fell, their own positions would be stripped away alongside him. Yet none of them were truly considering their vested interests. This was also why Karen had been willing to join this system. Norton was a High Priest he respected, and Karen held the same respect for the people around the High Priest, including Foden and the others. Kred spoke: "For now, we proceed in three steps: "Step one: do not carry out any of the edicts the boss just issued. Stall for time. "Step two: Foden, you will be responsible for sounding out and rallying others who have sensed the boss's change. "Step three..." Reaching the third step, Kred paused. The first two steps were merely passive delay and defense, but the third step had to address resolving the problem itself. Yet at this critical juncture, any course of action could trigger even more horrific repercussions. Kred pursed his lips—a gesture he had repeated several times today, indicating that one particular matter was being weighed over and over in his mind: "Either we do nothing, or... we do it completely. Failure cannot be permitted; it must be decided in a single stroke! "I will personally contact Daan." As expected of the Cardinal in charge of military affairs. To ensure absolute certainty, was he planning to launch a mutiny right from the start? Indeed, no matter how many conspiracies or ingenious deployments they devised, none would be as secure as leading knight orders into the Holy See to take the High Priest into custody. Xisa said, "Kred, are you insane?! Even if you can win Daan over, even if Daan can march those knights into the Holy See, do you believe for a second that the moment the boss stands before them, those knights wouldn't turn on us? Doing this could easily trigger a civil war within the church!" Kred asked, "Do you have a better idea?" Foden extended a finger, lightly tapped the table, and said, "I might know a better way." "Where?" "Mink Street."