Karen opened his eyes, and Dicarost opened his immediately after. The two angels, previously held in check, instantly calmed down the moment their master woke.
Ukonga released his suppression, and Karen took a step back. The holy angel and fallen angel swiftly flew back to Dicarost's side. The holy angel transformed into his white walking cane, while the fallen angel turned into his black hat.
He looked less like an explorer and more like an understated nobleman living in a suburban estate.
His eyes, however, were mismatched—one gray, the other blue.
In this era, the highest tier of explorers were effectively grave robbers. Yet rather than excavating tombs in pursuit of worldly wealth, they specifically preyed upon divine ruins.
Over time, they were either thoroughly corrupted by pollution or simply rebuilt themselves into part of the pollution itself. Without personal modifications, they felt they lacked style.
In Purr's words, these were an explorer's medals of honor.
Dicarost opened his arms wide.
"My dearest classmates, I missed you all to death!"
Neo quipped, "Yes, you died, all right—a thousand years ago."
"Do you know how I spent this past thousand years? Dreaming nonstop, and every single dream was full of you guys."
"Heh, I don't believe a word."
Despite his cynical words, Neo still stepped forward and shared a light embrace with Dicarost.
There was no passionate eruption of emotion, nor any tearful breakdown. Everyone remained calm and composed.
The sentimentality of former classmates and dorm mates was, at its core, a wistful yearning for the green, tender years of one's own youth. What they could not let go of was not just their peers, but themselves.
"Philias, I can sense the pure aura of Light coursing through your body. How did you pull that off? It's countless times hotter than what I felt in the ruins of Xiromango, the branch god of Light."
Neo replied, "That's because my love for the Light runs deep."
Ukonga walked up and embraced Dicarost. Dicarost patted Ukonga's back, sighing.
"Ah, Ukonga, back when you wrote to tell me you were planning to be with a beautiful artifact spirit lady, I knew this day would come. Why put yourself through it?"
"For love."
"Yet I don't think you truly loved her. You just wanted to bed her to check off some personal milestone you'd always obsessed over."
"That is slander, and a misunderstanding carried over a millennium!"
"You regret it."
"No, I don't."
"Whatever you say. Either way, right now it's not just your mouth that's stubborn—your entire body is stiff."
Ukonga pointed at Karen and said, "Come, Dicarost, let me introduce you to my remarkably promising son, Karen Silva."
Dicarost said nothing.
"What's wrong? Don't tell me you forgot who he is?"
"I remember," Dicarost replied.
"Then why is your reaction so lukewarm? Didn't we discuss his existence back then? Now he has appeared, standing right before us—our long-lost beloved son!"
"Uh..."
"Why are you being so restrained?"
"It's not that I'm restrained. I just didn't expect the priests of the Church of Order nowadays to be so wild."
"Heh, he was the one who awakened you. You should thank him."
"Aha, I've already thanked him. Truly, I have."
Not only had he thanked him, he had even gotten down on his knees—though his "classmate" had told him to stand up.
Dicarost changed the subject, pointing toward the sarcophagus. "Budalas is lying inside, right?"
"Yes, indeed." Ukonga glanced at Karen. "Take a rest. I'll awaken him."
"No need."
"Son, listen to your father. Papa is doing this for your own good."
Dicarost subconsciously glanced at Neo, who stood beside him. Seeing the meaningful smirk playing on Neo's lips, Dicarost understood everything.
Catching Dicarost's glance, Neo leaned over with an intrigued expression, resting a hand on Dicarost's shoulder. "Oh? So you've been given an official posting?"
"Ah, yes, indeed, haha. Why not come along too? You know how it goes among dorm mates—whoever makes it biggest, you just tag along with them. That's only natural, isn't it?"
Neo said as if it were obvious, "I *am* a devout believer of Order."
"Oh, really? Well, your 'Order' isn't particularly noticeable."
"Can't help it. I was sent on an undercover mission among the Light remnants and got a little too immersed in character."
While Neo chatted nonsense, Ukonga had already reached out and pressed a hand against Karen's shoulder, motioning for him to step back.
Karen moved to shrug it off, but Ukonga exerted force, and the two clashed in a tight contest of strength.
In the end, Ukonga failed to budge Karen an inch. Naturally, Karen did not do anything exaggerated like sending Ukonga flying, either.
Ukonga's curiosity was piqued. The luminous sheen of a dharma body surfaced across his skin. The same shimmer emerged across Karen. Their dharma bodies grated against one another, releasing a blinding gleam as two terrifying pressures mounted, poised to erupt.
Fortunately, both voluntarily pulled back before their power spiraled out of control.
Ukonga staggered back five consecutive paces. Karen took three steps back, then smoothly added two more to match.
"You really have condensed a godhead fragment."
"Yes."
"How did you do it?"
"It wasn't too difficult."
"You absolute monster!"
"Remember to keep it a secret for me. I don't want to report to the temple."
"Hey, do you realize how much face you're costing me?"
"How so?"
"Out of the five in our dorm, my cultivation level was the only thing I could comfort myself with. Now even that's gone. Doesn't that make me the biggest failure among our roommates?"
"I apologize for that." Karen chuckled. "So let me handle awakening Budalas. I won't have any problem."
Ukonga drew a deep breath. Turning to Dicarost, he said, "Look at that. See how incredible our son is? A temple elder at such a young age."
"Heh... heh heh..." Dicarost could only offer a hollow laugh.
Neo teased, "Not as incredible as you. That quail between your legs could thrust against even a divine artifact."
Ukonga shot back, "The two of you are never going to let that go, are you?"
Dicarost shook his head. "Honestly, Ukonga, when you seduced that spellcraft teacher and her department-dean husband caught you, it was a real shame he didn't blast your little bird to cinders with lightning spells. Without that burden holding you back, your achievements would have been unimaginable."
Neo added, "You should put it this way: even with that burden dragging him down, this fellow still managed to condense a godhead fragment."
"Keep talking, both of you. In a bit, I'll drag you two to the pastry shop in Yorktown and order up girls from the entire street for you to enjoy for three whole days and nights!"
*Click.*
Neo lit a cigarette, blowing out a ring of smoke as he said, "Remember to give my friend 'Young Master Aisen's' name. You'll get a discount."
While the atmosphere of a class reunion was brewing on one side, Karen placed his hand on the lid of the sarcophagus, preparing to awaken Budalas.
"Order—Awaken."
Unlike when he awakened Dicarost—in fact, unlike any awakening he had performed in the past—Budalas's awakening proceeded with exceptional smoothness.
This was because every figure kept within the First Knight Order had long been prepared comprehensively, purely to reduce the difficulty and cost of revival.
Karen was in no rush to wake him immediately, however. Some matters were better discussed beforehand within his memories.
*Hum!*
Karen entered Budalas's memory scape.
It was a familiar place, with familiar stone stairs. Above them stood the Administrative Temple.
*What a model-worker High Priest.* Even in the spiritual power left after death, the deepest memory was his workplace.
As Karen ascended the steps, a middle-aged man materialized, barring his way.
Karen did not know his name, but in all likelihood, the man bore the surname Benda.
Karen had no intention of interacting with the incidental figures of a memory. With a flick of his form, he bypassed him entirely and appeared inside the Administrative Temple.
Yet the interior was drastically compressed. Far from the vast grandeur of the real Administrative Temple, it felt as though Karen had stepped into a small study or modest office.
Documents and scrolls were piled high on the desk. Behind them sat a man with graying temples, maintaining the appearance of middle age, hard at work.
Senior figures in the church circles had the means to avoid looking decrepit, unless they deliberately chose to experience old age. A High Priest of the Church of Order had no need for excessive vanity, but he inherently embodied the image of Order. Even Rasma had been meticulous and dignified while in office, only adopting a slovenly, casual lifestyle after settling into the church on Mink Street.
Budalas had failed to condense a godhead fragment. A year before his life reached its natural end, he handed over the position of High Priest, after which he passed away.
Thus, the Budalas standing before Karen now was likely in his seventies.
The space was compact, yet suffused with an immense oppressive weight. In him, Karen caught a distinct impression of Norton.
After all, the man before him was one of the foremost High Priests of real power in the history of the Church of Order. Moreover, unlike Norton, he lacked the innate halo of Tyrannus.
At that moment, Budalas set down the document in his hands and looked up at Karen.
Karen noticed that he seemed to be making an effort to project a warm, genial demeanor. He tried, but failed.
Budalas spoke: "Classmate, your lingering spirit truly refuses to disperse."
Clearly, he recognized him.
Dicarost had mentioned that as they grew more mature and powerful, their impression of Karen's image only grew clearer.
At first, they might have brushed it off as a vague dream—a hazy notion that such a person had existed, without giving it much thought. Yet after graduation, after entering service, and across the decades that followed, whenever they recalled those days, the image of that fifth roommate became increasingly distinct.
Ukonga's relentless pursuit of Karen's whereabouts was not only because he had lived so long, but also because he was the only one among the four to condense a godhead fragment. The higher one's realm, the sharper the perception.
After a brief pause, Karen offered a formal bow.
"Greetings, High Priest."
From the standpoint of a simple Order priest, showing respect to a towering titan of the church's history was only proper.
"You hold a high station within the church. From the Whip of Order... a director?"
"Yes. Concurrently, I serve as the Secretary-General of the High Priest's Office."
"How long has passed since my death?"
"Over a thousand years."
"Has the Church of Light revived?"
"They remain scattered as isolated remnants."
"Good." Budalas nodded. "It took tremendous effort to seize the opportunity of their internal schism to bring about their demise. We cannot permit them to rebuild. That adversary was far too troublesome."
"However, the problem now is no longer just the Church of Light."
"What has happened?"
"The gods are returning."
"They must be stopped." Budalas's eyes turned stern and resolute. "This world no longer welcomes their presence."
"It will be difficult."
"Certain undertakings require weighing the difficulty, but there are others where such things need not be considered. If our Church of Order fails to stand on the front lines blocking the return of the gods, then our church has no reason to exist."
"You are correct. That is precisely what we are doing."
"Then it seems the current High Priest has done reasonably well."
"Yes. His name is Norton, though he has another name: Tyrannus."
"Lord Tyrannus has descended?"
"Yes."
"Whose side does he stand on?"
"Along with the other lords, he stands firmly on the side of Order."
"Then matters have become simple. Regardless of whether the gods' return can be thwarted, our church will at least be spared internal self-adjudication, free to fulfill its mission at its own pace."
"Yes, you are quite right. You were awakened because Lord Tyrannus no longer has the energy to oversee church affairs, and the environment across the church circles is currently fraught with chaos."
"What would be the point?" Budalas asked. "I have only three days. In three days, one can draft a decent campaign plan, but it is not enough for a temporary High Priest to prop up an entire divine church."
"No, you have ample time." Karen straightened slightly, meeting Budalas's gaze on equal terms. "I can ensure that, once awakened, you remain sustained indefinitely. However, you will have to bear a slight grievance."
"A grievance?" Budalas murmured as he stepped out from behind the desk, stopping before Karen. "Classmate, what exactly do you mean?"
The revolving laws of Order manifested beneath Karen's feet. Simultaneously, the identical power of those laws appeared upon Budalas's chest.
Budalas's eyes went wide. In the next instant, he dropped to his knees in reverent prostration.
"Praise be to the great God of Order!"
"A thousand years ago, you eliminated the threat of Light. This time, your mission is heavier still. I need you to operate from the shadows, controlling the church and reigning in the entire church circle."
"I obey the divine decree!"
***
Karen opened his eyes.
*Crack... crack...*
A series of crisp fractures echoed from within the sarcophagus.
*Bang!*
The heavy lid was cast aside.
Although he had stepped down prior to his death, the First Knight Order had laid him to rest dressed in the full ceremonial vestments of a High Priest, adhering strictly to protocol.
As Budalas slowly sat up inside the coffin, the majestic aura befitting a High Priest of Order poured out in waves.
Ukonga pressed his lips together, instinctively straightening his posture before offering a greeting: "Welcome to the class reunion, Budalas."
Budalas stared at Ukonga. "You used that divine artifact to cling to life until now?"
Ukonga scratched his head awkwardly. "Well, yes... I suppose I lived a bit longer than expected."
"Producing no value, while wasting over a thousand years of resources to maintain your existence. Ukonga, you are an utter parasite on the church."
Ukonga lowered his head without a word of protest. It was not merely the crushing weight of Budalas's status, but because Budalas was right. Had Karen not gifted him the godhead fragment of Order on Diss's behalf, Ukonga would still be a useless, marginal figure in the temple.
Even so, that frigid tone was far from pleasant to hear.
Neo stepped in to defuse the tension. "All right, all right. It wasn't easy to get everyone together for a reunion, so why make things so awkward? Budalas, can't you tone down your High Priest aura a little so we can reminisce about our youth?"
Budalas countered, "Philias, how do you still have the shamelessness to remain alive?"
Neo was struck speechless.
"If I were in your shoes, I would never have permitted any legacy of mine to survive, for I would lack the face to ever face our church's believers again."
Neo grumbled, "Hey, that's crossing the line. You're going too far."
Dicarost tapped his walking cane against the floor with steady thuds. "Look, it truly wasn't easy for all of us to gather. We were looking forward to your awakening. We're all classmates, all friends—can we leave factional stances aside for once?"
Stepping down from the coffin, Budalas said, "I had the Whip-Wielder secretly fund your expedition; you must have noticed long ago. Yet just before reaching that place, you deliberately abandoned the team and entered alone. In the end, you died there, and only your remains were cast back. Aren't you the one most obsessed with factions, Dicarost? You would rather die than allow our Church of Order to obtain the clues to that location."
Dicarost cast an awkward glance at Karen. The past was the past, and the present was the present. Much like Old Saman, his previous life had fulfilled his faith to his old church; in this new life, he could choose freely without psychological burden. Yet he worried that Karen might lose trust in him because of this.
"All right, that's enough." Karen smiled and turned, intending to put an end to the acrimonious exchange.
Yet before Karen could fully turn around, Budalas—the newly sworn knight who had prostrated himself in reverent worship within the memory scape moments ago—suddenly produced a scepter in his hand.
The gemstone at its tip shattered, unleashing a blinding anti-magic brilliance that instantly enveloped Karen. From within the fractured gem, a razor-sharp spike thrust forward, driving straight into Karen's chest.
*Squelch!*
The two stood locked together, their faces almost touching.
"Ugh..."
Karen's gaze drifted slowly downward, staring in disbelief at the spike driven into his chest.
Budalas whispered coldly:
"You have betrayed Order. You should never have descended. You belong in heaven."
Karen was silent.
Chapter 929