Led by a Ritual Priest, four Tailor Priests, twelve micro-array masters, eight Rune Priests, and four Material Forging Priests filed into the Cardinal's office inside the War Courtyard in two neat columns.
Resting in the Ritual Priest's hands were the newly crafted vestments of the High Priest.
This single robe required the concerted efforts of all these priests, and whenever modifications were needed, everyone had to be present before a final revision plan could be approved.
Kred was busy working. Nearly level with him on his left sat Budalas's desk.
Originally, Budalas's desk had been placed lower down, but whenever Kred sat in the elevated seat, he felt an unbearable prickling itch all over. In the end, he had simply had their desks aligned side by side, differing only in the color of the wood.
It had to be said that anyone capable of climbing to this height was the pinnacle of their generation. Although Kred did not know the exact identity and background of the secretary-general Norton had deliberately assigned him, he could always feel an unspoken weight of pressure whenever he faced the man.
In truth, it was a literal rendition of "sharing an office with a legendary historical figure."
Nearly everyone of Kred's generation had grown up hearing stories of Budalas. After all, the preeminent status of the Church of Order as the world's foremost faith—a reality they had long taken for granted—had been laid down by Budalas himself.
Budalas looked up at the new High Priest's vestments held in the Ritual Priest's hands, a glimmer of reminiscence surfacing in his eyes.
Once, that too had been the garment he knew best. It symbolized the supreme glory of the Order faction, but it also carried the heaviest of burdens.
Serving as the High Priest of the Church of Order was the most exhausting role of all. Barring any mishaps... no, even if mishaps occurred, anyone who had served as High Priest was destined to enter the First Knight Order after death, designated into a separate "Section of Past High Priests."
Having no face to meet one's ancestors was an obscure exaggeration elsewhere, but in the Church of Order it was a visible reality. At any moment, the whole bunch might be awoken together to discuss their respective achievements and misdeeds.
The Ritual Priest addressed Kred:
"High Priest."
Kred immediately put down his pen and rose to his feet out of habit, his gaze darting around as though searching for that familiar figure.
Only then did he realize that the "High Priest" the Ritual Priest addressed was actually him.
For a moment, Kred's face was etched with loneliness and unease.
It was no act. With Norton—Tyrannus—gone, he no longer had to walk on eggshells or put on a performance. He had truly grown accustomed to that title belonging exclusively to his boss.
The Ritual Priest prompted him once more, "High Priest, the inauguration ceremony is tomorrow. Please try on the vestments once more."
Kred nodded, stepped out from behind his desk, and spread his arms.
The four Tailor Priests stepped forward and draped the vestments and accessories over him.
Kred said, "That's fine. Leave it as it is."
"Understood, High Priest."
In truth, there were still many details to verify and areas that could be adjusted, but the Ritual Priest could tell that the new High Priest had no stomach for it right now. He had no choice but to lead the others out.
Kred shook his hands out, exhaled a long breath, and turned to Budalas, who was still seated there. "I feel anxious," he said helplessly. "Like I've overstepped my bounds."
Budalas replied, "You must summon your courage and shoulder your responsibility."
"You're right."
Kred had already gotten used to his secretary not using honorifics with him.
Just then, an adjutant entered to report, "High Priest, the Whip-Wielder has arrived."
"Send him in."
"Yes, High Priest."
Foden reached the door of the office but did not step across the threshold. Instead, he called out, "My, my. Now, if I want to see you, I have to be announced."
In the past, when their circle dropped in on one another, no one dared stop them; they would walk straight into each other's offices.
Kred glared at Foden standing at the door and snapped, "The subordinates don't know any better, and you don't either?"
"Is that supposed to comfort me or fucking warn me?"
"Think whatever you like."
Foden strolled in, gestured outside, and asked, "On my way in, I saw the people making your robes leaving. I was hoping to get an early look at you in the High Priest's vestments. Pity I missed it."
"What's there to see?"
"I wanted to see how much you resemble the boss once you have them on."
At those words, both Kred and Foden fell silent.
Having followed the boss all the way as he held the supreme authority of the Church of Order, they had been tormented within an inch of their lives. Later, when the boss revealed his identity as Tyrannus, facing him had filled them with even greater trepidation.
They had rebelled against the boss, yet the boss had been pleased and gratified by it.
On the day the boss fell, cries of mourning echoed throughout the entire church. Neither of them had shed a tear, yet they felt countless times more agony than anyone else.
Kred broke the silence. "Like I said, we might as well just let Karen take the oath and assume the position of High Priest in my place tomorrow."
Hearing this, Foden looked left and right.
Noticing his reaction, Kred asked, "What are you looking for?"
"I'm checking if Daan is here," Foden said, "wondering if you had him secretly lead a knight squad into the Holy See to ambush and prune away threats."
"Bullshit!"
Foden shrugged. "Karen was brought up under my wing. Don't you dare think of taking that step, or the Whip of Order will rebel against you first."
"Foden, what kind of person do you take me for!"
There was another thought Kred left unsaid: Even if I wanted to prune him, could I even pull it off?
Never mind Karen's current strength and standing within the church, or the blessing of being handpicked by Tyrannus as the successor of the next generation—just the backing of Mink Street made him someone no one could push around.
The last time that elder got angry, he had overturned the entire Temple.
Budalas lowered his head and continued reading the documents in his hands. After the divine battle above Wien ended, the political landscape of the church circles had undergone an immediate, tremendous shift.
The orthodox churches had not united in shared grief and indignation over the fall of their respective main gods to turn their weapons on the Church of Order.
What belongs to gods belongs to gods, and what belongs to mortals belongs to mortals. Previously, people thought only the people of Order believed this, but "realism" was universal.
The orthodox churches were about to convene a new alliance conference, and Order would attend as well. The theme of the meeting was how to handle the "resettlement issue" of the second wave of returning deities.
Everyone's main gods had fallen, and that was that. But if the remaining ordinary deities about to return truly descended, they would quickly propel the lower-, medium-, and large-scale churches to a higher tier, which would directly threaten the collective status of today's orthodox churches.
This was unacceptable to the entrenched interest groups. In the face of shared interests, unprecedented cohesion arose: they urgently needed to join hands to suppress the "insolence" of the lower churches.
The Church of Order naturally welcomed this. Order's objective was to target deities anyway, and as long as that fundamental premise held, the more helpers they had, the better, and the fewer liabilities dragging them down, the better.
Foden sat down in an adjacent chair and said, "Kred, I'm just here on behalf of everyone to give you a reminder."
Kred's succession to power derived from Norton. Naturally, the political bloc Norton left behind would unite to nominate and support Kred, who came from their own ranks.
However, Karen was also a member of this bloc, and Karen was younger, more promising, and more outstanding. Ensuring Karen's succession in due course would help prolong the lifespan of this political faction. Therefore, the faction did not want Kred to resort to internal infighting, which was why they were issuing a warning in advance.
Kred chuckled. "After I take office tomorrow, I'll announce Karen's appointment as Acting High Priest. Whenever he wants to drop that prefix, he can just tell me, and I'll immediately start stepping down, just like Lord Rasma did."
Foden was somewhat surprised. "Kred, can you tell me why you're being so open-minded about this?"
Foden had originally expected factional friction and infighting, yet who could have guessed that Kred would be so accommodating?
Kred countered, "He was brought up by you. You don't know?"
"I fucking don't!"
Foden practically shouted.
The branch gods of Order had all fallen. Raniedal had been proven not to be Him. Even the Child of God, Mavaglio, had recently fallen into a deep coma. Yet Karen remained completely unaffected, like nothing had happened.
Then just whose inheritor was he?
"Why are you so jumpy? The boss is gone, and none of us feel good about it, but you need to control your emotions. Your post is very special and sensitive; you have to keep your cool."
"Shut your fucking mouth! My business is none of yours. If you want to replace me, do it right now! Acting High Priest is just an empty title anyway—why not just let Karen replace me as Whip-Wielder right now!"
Budalas's eyes narrowed slightly, though his expression remained impassive. He could sense that Foden's loss of composure stemmed from his closing in on the truth.
And indeed it was so. In the past, when there were many cards in the drawer to test against Karen, annoying as it had been, there was at least something to do and clues to deduce.
Yet once so many wrong answers were eliminated all at once, Foden no longer dared guess. He was terrified!
That was also part of the reason he was willing to negotiate with Kred face-to-face on behalf of their political bloc.
Old friend, you'd better keep your head clear! If you lose your wits and make a wrong move, you'll be competing for power with that very Person!
Foden stood up, preparing to leave, and asked, "You're moving into the Administrative Temple tomorrow, right?"
Kred sighed. "I really don't want to move."
"Why not?"
"Once I move in, my heart won't be at peace. It feels like the boss's avatar could step out at any moment."
"Heh, hahaha."
Foden laughed as he walked out of the office.
Kred tapped his temple and asked Budalas, "Do you think he's losing his mind?"
Budalas replied, "The Whip-Wielder's mind has always been far too clear."
"What do you know?"
"A great deal that you do not." Budalas took out a list. "Let us discuss the list of Hierarchs attending tomorrow's inauguration ceremony. After the ceremony concludes, the new alliance will hold its first talks."
Kred took the list, looked at the long string of names on it, and couldn't help but chuckle.
"The ways of this world can sometimes be unimaginably bizarre."
"Though piety remains on their lips, their hearts have long grown accustomed. Look at the efforts of those churches trying to welcome their returning gods—rather than welcoming their faith, it would be more accurate to say they are bringing back their church's supreme war weapon.
An era of godlessness spanning an entire epoch—
we
have in truth already changed this world."
...
Foden returned to the Whip of Order headquarters. The moment he teleported back to his office, he saw Little Kanna playing with Augie on the glacier.
Little Kanna was tossing gemstones, and Augie was gliding through the air, catching them in her mouth.
No matter how one looked at it, his dragon seemed completely foolish.
In truth, Augie had her own hardships. She had always harbored a bone-deep trepidation toward Little Kanna to begin with, and now that Little Kanna had received the blessing of the Rebel Dragon God, the little bone dragon held a natural hierarchical supremacy over all dragonkind in this era.
Vigulin stood by the desk.
Foden asked, "Where is Karen?"
Since his dragon was here, the man himself was bound to be here as well.
Vigulin reported, "The Minister is waiting outside."
"Send him in."
"Yes, Whip-Wielder."
Karen walked into the office.
Foden grabbed the documents from his desk and hurled them straight at him, snapping, "What are you putting on airs for? If I'm not here, can't you just come in and take a seat? Why wait outside?"
Karen dodged the documents and smiled faintly. "After all, you are my superior."
With that, Karen walked up to the desk.
"Sit."
"I just sat for a while; I feel like standing now."
Hearing this, Foden stood up from his chair as well.
"I just came back from Kred's place."
"You should address him as High Priest."
"In my heart, the only High Priest is the boss."
"That is a very dangerous line of thinking. No wonder every newly inaugurated High Priest replaces their Whip-Wielder first."
"Kred doesn't have the power to replace me. Without us, he wouldn't even be sitting in that seat."
This was simply the dynamic shift of power. When Norton had been in power, he could treat the chiefs of each department like hounds at his beck and call—the peak of authority. Once the successor became Kred, authority immediately contracted.
"These are special times. The elders have gone ahead first; next, it will be our turn."
Foden grunted in acknowledgment. "I know. By the way, Kred wants you to serve as Acting High Priest."
"I don't think that's necessary."
"My advice is to take the position first. Who knows if Kred might drop dead from exhaustion one day?"
"Whip-Wielder, it is truly inappropriate for you to say such things."
If the church's supreme spymaster speculated that the new High Priest might meet an untimely end, the likelihood of that sudden death would increase dramatically.
"Karen."
"Yes, Whip-Wielder."
"All this time, how have I treated you?"
"You have treated me very well, and you are someone I deeply respect."
Foden turned his back to Karen, suddenly feeling as if an immense weight had lifted from him.
After collecting himself, Foden turned back around, doing his best to make everything appear completely natural. "Is there something you need?"
"It's about this."
Karen took out a document, presented it to Foden, and explained, "This is the declaration for the re-establishment of the Church of Light. Please look it over."
"You should show this to Kred."
"It's for you to see."
Cracking down on Light remnants had always been within the jurisdiction of the Whip of Order.
Foden took the document and tossed it straight onto the desk without glancing at it. "Whatever you want to do, I approve."
Karen smiled. "I originally thought I would encounter some resistance from you. After all, the re-establishment of Light is emotionally difficult for most people in the church to accept."
"The one who should find it most unacceptable is Budalas. Take some time to go to the First Knight Order's garrison and explain or repent before his coffin."
Karen smiled politely, because Budalas had not only accepted it, but had personally drafted the plan.
"Then I have nothing else. Please take care of your health."
"I'm fine. In the past, I worried I might die of illness. Now I don't have to worry about that."
Karen gave Foden a somewhat meaningful look.
Foden countered, "What? Dying in battle is better than dying of illness, isn't it?"
"Oh, so that's what you meant. Yes, that is indeed better."
For a moment, I almost thought you were hinting that you wanted to enter a coffin.
"This subordinate takes his leave."
"Safe travels."
Karen beckoned Little Kanna over. Little Kanna placed a gemstone on Augie's forehead, patted Augie on the head, and said:
"Be good, okay? I'll come play with you again next time."
With that, she leaped down from the glacier, took Karen's hand, and walked out of the office.
The moment the doors closed,
Augie breathed a long sigh of relief, collapsing limp onto the glacier.
Foden also breathed a long sigh of relief, slumping limp into his chair.
Augie whispered, "Gods above..."
Foden wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Yeah..."
...
Red Leaf Street.
Young Master Aisen had once again graced Red Leaf Street, which remained ever loyal to him.
Philomena stood at the shop's entrance, watching heavily made-up aunties and matrons bustling in and out, looking remarkably like pilgrims coming to worship.
In the past, Richard had frequented this place because the Alter bloodline inside him was too dense, forcing him to neutralize and ease it through the faith power of Goddess Mills.
He hadn't come for worldly pleasure; he had come for medical treatment.
Yet who could have imagined that the cure would only make the condition worse, until one day, the treatment ended up summoning the God of Eternity.
In the distance, a second-hand black Ponce drove up to the mouth of the street.
Alfred was driving, while Karen and Neo sat in the back.
Karen remarked, "You sure unified things fast."
Neo replied, "They stopped short of deploying the knight order directly to help me. How could it not be fast?"
"How does it feel, our new Pope of Light?"
"You'd better hurry up and oust Kred, or next time we share a ride, you won't be qualified to sit in the back with me—you'll have to sit in the passenger seat."
"Then I'd rather take the passenger seat."
Neo glanced into the street and asked, "Down to business—why hasn't He left yet?"
Karen said, "I don't know, but it works out well. It's a rare opportunity for us to communicate first."
"Let's go then. Time to meet Him."
Neo and Karen got out of the car and walked inside.
Sitting in the driver's seat, Alfred took out his black notebook and quill pen. He hesitated for a long time, unable to put ink to paper.
How should he record this?
He could hardly write:
"On this day, the three Epoch Overlords gathered on Red Leaf Street."
Chapter 942