Sinners

The dragon's head dipped slightly, as though issuing a final warning. Throughout the Church's history, power struggles and transitions of leadership were hardly rare, but the Church of Order had always maintained a tacit tradition of contending without fracturing. Thus, for someone like Karen to advance aggressively on the Holy See astride a giant dragon in such a posture was entirely unprecedented. Still, the priests serving in the Holy See naturally had the best inside information. They had already heard about what had taken place in the temple recently. Compared to that... well, what was unfolding before their eyes didn't seem so unacceptable after all. Little Kanna parted her draconic maw, within which the powers of ice and fire gathered simultaneously, ready to unleash at any second. To humanity's pinnacle figures, dragons—even those of noble blood—did not amount to much, but before middle- and lower-tier humans, their aura truly exerted overwhelming dominance. Bikmain scratched his head. He was shocked, yet showed very little panic. In fact, without much hesitation or attempt to dissuade them, he stepped back several paces to the side and crisply waved to his subordinates. "Open the gates and let them through." Tightly woven formations were arrayed inside and outside the Holy See; had they chosen to sound the alarm instead of opening the gates, Karen would have found it exceedingly difficult to force his way in. The problem was, Bikmain had no reason to do that. It wasn't that he feared death, but that Karen's standing was exceptional. On one hand, there was Karen's dazzling record; on the other, the political privileges the High Priest had granted him. The gatekeeper section chief knew very well that standing on principle here was meaningless. Regardless of how impudent and insolent Karen was today, even if he flew his dragon straight into the Administrative Temple, whatever scolding and disciplining took place between him and the High Priest, in the end, he would still be who he was. Matters between you "insiders" are not for us outsiders to meddle in. The gates swung open, and the aerial barrier vanished. Little Kanna lifted her head. The spell gathered in her mouth extinguished, dissipating into exhales through her nostrils. One nostril puffed scalding smoke into the sky, while the other blew out a trail of ice crystals. To an amateur, the sight might have looked a bit comical, but an expert would realize with shock that this dragon had not only mastered multi-element spells to perfection, but could also summon and dismiss them at will. Immediately afterward, the bone dragon swept inside, casting a vast shadow across the Holy See, which was perpetually blanketed in holy light without night. Yet Karen did not go so far as to ride the dragon into the hall. Halfway there, he signaled Little Kanna to transform back into human form. After touching down, he took her hand and walked to the front of the Administrative Temple. Along the way, many guards were stirred, but they merely watched from the sidelines; no one stepped forward to block Karen. Even Mobiten, standing atop the steps, wore a troubled expression. As Karen stepped onto the flight of stairs, the High Priest's guard immediately formed a defensive line. Mobiten took the initiative to approach Karen and said in a low voice, "The High Priest does not wish to receive guests." "I am not a guest." Karen's gaze remained resolute as he continued up the steps. "Please do not make things difficult for me, my Lord Secretary-General." Karen ignored the dissuasion and kept climbing. The tips of the guards' spears were practically pressing against Karen's chest, yet as he pressed forward, they were forced to retreat in unison. Everyone looked back and forth, madly exchanging glances, but no one dared strike. The last time such a scene had occurred was when that terrifying old man arrived here, but back then, what everyone feared was the old man's overwhelming power; now, what they feared was Karen's status. Not to mention the High Priest's current ambiguous stance, having only issued a decree to refuse visitors; even if the High Priest had decreed to strike Karen down, Mobiten wouldn't dare act upon receiving the order without seeking confirmation and obtaining a second, identical decree. Finally, a figure flew out from the hall—Ukonga. "Stand down." Mobiten immediately ordered, "Fall back." At a time like this, whether it was a direct order from the High Priest or not, they might as well treat it as one. Karen continued up until he stood before Ukonga. Ukonga leaned in close. He erected no barrier, nor did he lower his voice, quipping directly, "Even if you fucking want to rebel, you should bring more people! Coming here alone with just a dragon, don't you look a bit like an idiot?" Karen looked at him and said, "Your wounds healed remarkably fast." "Well, there's work to be done. The skin under my clothes isn't properly finished yet—it's full of folds, and I haven't even had time to cut double eyelids. Looking in the mirror feels really weird right now." Karen skirted past Ukonga and walked alongside him. Ukonga raised an arm, blocking Karen. "Don't go in. He doesn't want to see anyone right now." Karen countered, "Since when has the High Priest of our Church of Order become unfit to be seen?" "You insist on going in?" "I must." Ukonga nodded and withdrew his hand. As Karen walked inside, Ukonga followed him in. As soon as he stepped inside, Karen saw three tombstones arranged in each corner behind the hall's doors—six in total, all relocated from the temple. Karen knew that when his grandfather ran amok in the temple, the temple had held back contingency reserves—for instance, those old fellows who "scraped by" through special means had no intention of squandering their precious longevity on resolving internal conflicts of Order. This current method of relocating graves truly provided immense protection for this place, and for the High Priest. The Administrative Temple had ceased its routine operations, and the hall was filled with a pervasive chill. Behind the central desk sat the High Priest, dignified and solemn as ever. Karen did not hesitate. Stopping at an appropriate distance, he bowed respectfully to the High Priest: "Greetings, High Priest." The High Priest gave no response. After a long silence, Karen turned to look at Ukonga. Ukonga rolled his eyes and chuckled. "You don't think I took control of the High Priest and turned him into my puppet so I could seize the chance to bark orders, do you?" Karen shook his head and turned his gaze back to the motionless High Priest. "Hey, hey, hey, what's that supposed to mean? Am I not allowed to have some ambition?" "What happened to the High Priest?" "I don't know whether something's wrong with him or not. He's been like this these past few days—lucid one moment, then sitting there completely still the next. But I can assure you that all those decrees were issued while he was conscious." "And the temple is just obeying so submissively?" In the past, those temple elders wished for nothing more than to wash away the last traces of mortal dust from their bodies. Now, however, they were rushing out in droves to implement decree after decree from the High Priest. Even when the High Priest was completely normal, commanding them at whim had never been this easy. It made no sense that now, when the High Priest had run into such an issue, the elders would suddenly become so eager to serve. "You don't understand, but you will soon enough. We're not just obeying the High Priest's decrees..." "Then what is it?" "Don't rush. He should be waking up soon." The corner of Ukonga's mouth twitched into a grin. "Hey, this is a golden opportunity. You should try rallying a faction and stage a coup while you can. That way, you'd shave decades off your climb." "That joke isn't funny in the slightest." Karen knew full well that even if Foden and the others succeeded in a coup, the new High Priest position would not go to him. Norton was the legal basis for his status as successor; overthrowing Norton would mean negating his own claim as heir. Furthermore, the issue right now wasn't who would become the next High Priest. Norton had painstakingly unified the entire Church; at this critical juncture, no matter who replaced him, the Church would disintegrate back into scattered sand. That was why Karen had insisted on coming for a face-to-face confrontation. He wasn't giving Norton one last chance; he was hoping Norton would give the Church of Order a chance. Just then, the High Priest, who had been sitting motionless, seemed to gradually "return." His gaze once again grew penetrating. Ukonga turned and left, seemingly reluctant to face the High Priest in this state. Karen remained standing where he was. The next moment, the surrounding murals began to shift from their timeless static state into motion, as if the figures and stories within them were springing to life—and the source driving it all was the "awakened" High Priest. Suddenly, a wisp of consciousness flew out from one of the murals and sank into the High Priest's body. The High Priest let out a sigh and said, "You're here." So, earlier, the High Priest had been immersed in the murals? Karen's heart sank a little deeper, because the High Priest was slipping more and more into the persona of that "Lord." "High Priest, I've come back to see you." A smile touched the corner of the High Priest's lips—a smile that felt utterly alien to Karen. Even if a person underwent drastic changes, there should at least be some pattern, some trace to follow. Yet right now, the High Priest gave off the distinct feeling of an entirely different person. "Have you come back to question me?" "Yes, High Priest." "Heh heh heh..." The High Priest chuckled. "So direct?" "I believe directness is necessary at a time like this. It is also what I demand of my subordinates. In my team: no secrets sleep overnight." This was actually an old tradition between Diss and Karen: In the Inmerles household, no secret sleeps overnight. There was no need for two people to second-guess each other, breed misunderstandings when guesses missed the mark, and end up wallowing in regret. "A fine habit," the High Priest said as he slowly stood up. "Foden and the others do not share it." The High Priest was hinting at something, which proved he was not oblivious to Foden and company's intentions and plots. Yet the question was: if he had already noticed, why hadn't he taken steps to resolve it, instead choosing to commandeer the temple's power to protect himself and enforce his will? "Can you dispel my doubts, High Priest?" The High Priest walked over until he stood before Karen. "Ask." "Why did you order the troop withdrawal from the Garden of Life? A single knight order cannot possibly halt the return of those three, and in all likelihood, a host of minor deities will follow behind them." "Withdrawing two first was merely the prelude. I have no intention of leaving the last knight order there either; I will order them all to withdraw." "You don't intend to resist?" "Because I suddenly realized that resisting is meaningless. For certain things destined to happen, there is no need to expend excessive effort trying to intervene. We might as well save our energy for other matters. "You return just in time. Through the Temple of Order, I have already extended invitations to the temples of the Church of Reincarnation and the Church of the Moon Goddess—and, of course, to the temples of the other orthodox churches as well. "Talking with their Popes can sometimes be tiresome, because not every church is like our Church of Order, where the High Priest's words actually carry absolute authority. "I intend to sit there with their elders—the true holders of power—sipping tea, smoking cigars, and taking in the magnificent spectacle of the deities' return. "I imagine it will be quite beautiful. "And I trust you can arrange it splendidly, can't you?" "I can carry out the arrangements according to your decree. After all, as an Order priest, obeying the High Priest's will is only natural." Karen paused. "However, I also wish to know whether the High Priest issuing decrees to me right now is the High Priest I trust and acknowledge." "'Trust' is understandable, but 'acknowledge'?" Norton looked into Karen's face. "What, does the person holding the position of High Priest need to be vetted by you, Karen?" "There is no such legal procedure, but in every person's heart, there exists their own metric of evaluation." "No, that is not it. If that were so, you would have asked whether I am still myself before asking about the withdrawal. In truth, you don't particularly care whether I am still myself; what you care about is whether I, the High Priest, will act in the direction you desire." Karen nodded. "You are right." "Do you not find that absurd?" "No, not in the least. Because this direction was given to me by you, just as you gave it to everyone around you. We follow you because we acknowledge your direction." "Then whether I am here or not makes no difference?" "If your absence meant we would simply scatter, then the direction you found for us would be far too shallow and ridiculous." "Do you know? I enjoy the feeling of talking with you." Norton walked toward the wall, where magnificent murals stretched across the surface. "Now, I can answer your second question first: whether I am still Norton." Karen turned to face the High Priest's back, quietly awaiting the answer. "I thought I could suppress her; I thought I could be the exception. I was confident, immensely confident, especially after seeing the one on Mink Street, which solidified my confidence even further. "I am Norton, and he is Diss. What Diss could accomplish, there was no reason I couldn't. "Starting as an ordinary mortal, step by step, trampling the lofty veil of divinity beneath my feet, telling them: you are not noble. "I had always stayed vigilant against the return of my Lord, but I never dared forget that she, too, would suddenly gain greater power during this period. I had prepared myself to resist her. "Yet in the end, all my preparations turned out to be a joke..." The colossal murals before Norton suddenly began to transform. Originally, three separate murals depicted Tyrannus receiving enlightenment from the God of Order, founding the Church of Order, and drafting the *Light of Order*. Now, they merged into one. Upon a massive cross, Tyrannus was pinned, blood bubbling and flowing down from below, enduring endless torture. *Crack...* "Look at me, Karen." The voice did not come from the High Priest's mouth. Instead, the mural moved, and the voice emanated from the depiction of Tyrannus within it. Karen looked at the mural; this was practically an open revelation. Within the mural, Tyrannus continued, "I have been somewhat lost in thought these past few days, because I still cannot accept that I lost so utterly. Do you know? Right now, I feel as though my life as Norton was nothing more than a joke." "At least... you still consider yourself Norton." Tyrannus replied, "No. There is no Norton anymore." Then, the High Priest turned around, looked at Karen, and said with utter seriousness: "I am... Tyrannus." ... Whip of Order Headquarters, the Whip-Wielder's office. Two cups of shaved ice sat before Foden, one for himself and one for the person opposite him. The person asked curiously, "Doesn't the Whip-Wielder suffer from cold poison in his body? Yet you remain in such a frigid environment and even eat this?" Foden smiled. "Because of joy." "Joy?" "Because I no longer have the energy or the chance to strive for godhead fragments, unlike you." "In truth, there isn't much difference. Aren't I sitting right here with you, Whip-Wielder, eating shaved ice as well?" "Heh heh, true." ... Court of War office. "Care to take a look?" Krede handed a document to the elder standing beside him. "No need, I wouldn't understand it anyway. I'll just stand here and not interfere with your work." "I was only worried you might be bored." ... Containment space. "Which divine artifact catches your eye, Elder? Just say the word, and I'll have someone deliver it to your star." "That... wouldn't be appropriate, would it?" "Nothing inappropriate about it. Consider it your security fee." ... Similar scenes played out beside the heavyweights of several key departments. If even someone like Karen could be assigned Rohan to watch over him, to say nothing of Foden and his peers. Yet having the temple monitor them was giving far too much credit to the temple, and underestimating them far too severely. In this world, fists could resolve many things, but not everything could be solved by force. In the shadows, squad after squad of knights from knight orders outside of Daan's purview were entering the Dinge Region disguised in ordinary clerical robes, then heading in batches to secret staging points to draw their equipment. With the Holy See as the hub, personnel at every critical nexus began swapping shifts and substituting for one another. Countless more detailed maneuvers, like toppling dominoes, proceeded with methodical precision. The entire Vien Region began reorganizing into legions along the former framework of the Whip of Order Legions, throwing open armories and distributing all manner of war materiel and implements. Even though every one of them was being watched, once they truly set their minds to acting, nothing could stop them. After all, this was the team Norton had personally forged. ... At dusk, an old man holding a book in his right hand and leading a dog with his left appeared on the beach of Saint Antis. ... Garden of Life. After Karen's departure, the spellcasters of the knight order had chanted in unison to erect towering viewing platforms along the shore. Though somewhat rudimentary and unpolished, they appeared majestic and imposing. In the distance, beyond the teleportation formations of the logistics supply base, newly constructed teleportation formations activated one after another. The origins of those formations were not regions controlled by the Church of Order, but were linked directly to the temples... of other churches. Connecting a teleportation formation in a strategically vital location to foreign churches was an immense taboo; the reason Order's "First Day War" against Reincarnation had been waged so cleanly and smoothly was precisely because they had utilized this very method. Here, however, there was no cause for concern on that front, because as Order's forces continually withdrew, what church would deploy organized military forces here to face returning deities? They would have to be mad. "Commander Silma, please execute the High Priest's decree," Massichen urged expressionlessly. Silma sneered, "You had better understand the consequences of doing this." Limonis said, "The commander should also be well aware of the consequences of disobeying a decree." "Of course I am." Silma gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. In the end, he dropped his hand. Beside him, an adjutant relayed the order down through the ranks. Relying on the altars erected earlier, the spellcasters of the sole remaining knight order began channeling wide-area destructive spells of immense power. Instantly, meteors rained from the sky, crashing wildly into the Black Sea, accompanied by countless bolts of lightning relentlessly pounding the darkness. Priests summoned phantoms of the goddess; with wands in hand, their purifying power washed outward, drastically consuming the aura of corruption within the Black Sea. *Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!* The magic crystal cannon batteries fired in unison, sending the Black Sea churning violently. The gods had not yet officially returned; therefore, the consequence of this barrage was not harm to the deities in the deepest depths, but rather the destruction of the surrounding environment, loosening their shackles and ultimately allowing them to break free even sooner. After three consecutive waves of bombardment ended, the surface area of the Black Sea had shrunk considerably. Yet three towering figures suddenly emerged. Terrifying divine majesty broke through the barrier of the Black Sea, washing over the shore. Heavy footfalls echoed. Flanking either side were the main Gods of Life, and in the center was Augurev. Behind them trailed a group of smaller deities. Though shackles still clung to their bodies, those fetters were already decayed and now battered by destruction; they could no longer impede their stride. The projected timeline of one week... was thus cut down to a single day. One day from now, the feet of these deities would stride out of the Black Sea, tread upon this earth, and return to the world. Massichen bowed solemnly toward the central figure: "We respectfully welcome Your Eminence's return." Limonis looked on with conflicted emotions and sighed silently. Tears welled in Silma's eyes as he said: "We... will be sinners."