The God of War had long been impatient.
However, His divine body had always remained sealed within the coffin beneath the pyramid—this was the epoch's most flawless protection, yet also its most unyielding seal.
Thus, He could only convey His will to Order repeatedly in this manner, thoughts that were received by Karen. Moreover, having grown all too accustomed to these dreams over an extended period, Karen would deliberately disregard them. Following the God of War, what emanated forth was the will of the God of Chaos.
He was a formidable main god of the Eternal camp who had once brought immense trouble to the Light camp. Later, He was defeated and slain by the God of Order, but before He fell, He had made a wager with the God of Order over whether the new world Order yearned for would ever come to pass.
"Order... has that world you desired appeared?"
Compared to the urgency of the two main gods, War and Chaos, Taoris seemed remarkably composed.
Yet as the Betrayer Knight, even without displaying any overt sign, Karen dared not truly underestimate him.
After all, this was an existence who, having witnessed the sheer might of the God of Order, had still dared to mount a challenge against Order.
Had he not committed betrayal back then, Alfred most likely would have had no room for artistic liberty when compiling *New Light of Order* and ranking the combat power of the previous generation's exalted knights.
Such was the state at the pyramid's very pinnacle; further down, an anxious resonance yearning for battle had already formed.
They had not yet awakened, but in this state, they were infinitesimally close to the critical threshold of a disorderly awakening.
Most of the awakening priests looked panicked and distressed, and quite a few broke down in tears on the spot, well aware of what it would portend if this situation was not brought under control in time.
Strictly speaking, however, they were not the overseers of the First Knight Order, but rather servants—attendants who provided the knights with everything required beyond combat.
In the face of an impending collapse like this, there was nothing they could truly do to stop it.
*Hum! Hum! Hum!*
The resonance of consciousness was no longer enough; the knocking and scraping against the coffins climbed in frequency without pause.
The foundation amassed by the Church of Order across two epochs had swelled to an extent that even the church itself could barely govern. The epoch's most terrifying and wasteful rampage was on the verge of erupting.
Just then, however, Karen raised his hand. Behind him, the colossal dharma body raised its hand as well.
The instant the hand was raised, the entire pyramid plunged into dead silence.
In this world, only two individuals could hold dominion over this pyramid, making the slumbering believers of Order willingly comply so that every command was executed without question.
One sat beyond the epoch, while the other was Karen.
Even the High Priest of Order, who legally possessed the authority to command the First Knight Order, had in fact long lost the capacity to fully mobilize them.
Perhaps the original intention of the God of Order in founding the First Knight Order had always been to reserve it for His future "self" to wage war with.
This was a legion garrison, yet also His mausoleum as the God of Order. Interred here were the most devout believers of Order, awaiting their Lord's "awakening" so He could lead them once more in raising the butcher's blade against gods.
In any other context, this would be the lingering poison of feudal dregs; yet in the present circumstances, it was a brand of devotional romance carried to its absolute extreme.
"Kanna."
The bone dragon spiraled down, catching Karen, and bore him aloft to soar back and forth before the pyramid.
The slumbering beings here did not know Karen was the God of Order—they had not yet been awakened, after all. Yet even in their state of dead sleep, they remained sensitive enough to perceive their Lord's presence.
Karen had to remain here for now, keeping them soothed so the awakening priests could finish the final phase of awakening preparations.
Everything felt like a return to his days as corps commander, when Karen often stood upon the dragon's back so the entire army could behold his figure.
Zhongtasen flew down from above steering his massive tome, shouting incessantly, "What are you all standing around for?! Hurry, begin awakening preparations! Quick!"
He yelled at the top of his lungs, straining his vocal cords to bursting.
Although they had just weathered terrifying turbulence, the exhilaration of seeing the final culmination—guarded across countless generations of predecessors—come to fruition in his own hands was beyond words.
Generations of Awakeners had buried their names and lives for the foundation of Order, willingly sacrificing their prime years. Was it not all for the single moment when their mission was fulfilled?
At this moment, none of them fought alone; they carried the steadfast vigil and dreams of their forebears.
Array after array was activated, artifact after artifact set into motion.
The dormant barracks finally stirred to life, an aura of resurgence flooding every corner.
*Boom!*
Amid the rumbling roar, the middle section of the pyramid began to rotate. Ramps branched out from various points on the pyramid, reaching down like densely clustered tentacles to touch down across different areas of the vast open ground.
Right after, coffin after coffin slid smoothly down the tracks, settling steadily onto the ground.
Above, Karen could see clearly that they were filling into place according to battle formations.
Every sleeping soul had long been classified according to profession, power attributes, and more from their mortal lives.
Much like an emergency military mobilization in Yorktown where clergy from each department would report to the parade grounds and enter their designated zones, here the order was even more immaculate.
Soon, the first battle formation took shape: shieldbearer units, war engine units, knight units, priest units, spellcaster units...
Unlike an ordinary legion, the soldiers here still lay within coffins, yet they exuded a chilling, immaculate neatness that would satisfy any perfectionist.
*Hum! Hum! Hum!*
The churned, softened earth began to split open, and from beneath, equipment was hoisted upward.
Across countless eras, this gear had been sealed beneath the glaciers, waiting solely for this moment.
Armor and shields for the shieldbearers, undead puppet warhorses for the knights, wands for the spellcasters, materials for the array masters, and massive war engines...
Watching this scene from afar, the knight order commanders felt a surge of covetous envy. Many of these war engines could no longer be replicated, their craftsmanship lost to history, impossible to equip even in their own knight orders.
The gods had been gone for so long that regression had inevitably set in across many areas. Fortunately, when these deities returned, each was as emaciated and feeble as a hungry ghost, offsetting the churches' disadvantage of decline.
Karen had once discussed this with Old Hoffen. Old Hoffen believed that blindly rejecting gods was incorrect; gods had brought progress and divine civilization to this world, and outright denial of the gods meant that the churches—representing the highest echelon of humanity—suffered comprehensive regression in technology and combat prowess.
Karen held the opposing view. Granted, pursuing progress and development seemed politically unimpeachable, but within divine civilization, there was no place for humanity.
Furthermore, the root cause of regression was not humanity's betrayal of the gods, but that this path was bestowed by deities in the first place. What you thought belonged to you was never yours. It might allow you to swagger in your prime, but the day a god was displeased and took it back, you would be knocked right back to your original state.
A civilization incapable of independence was inherently deformed and flawed, devoid of true agency or personhood.
After burying the gods once and for all, short-term regression would be unavoidable, but humanity would give birth to its own true civilization and set sail anew.
The God of Order had kept the gods shut out for an epoch. The current facade of "unity" forged by the Church of Order also demonstrated, from another angle, that once severed from their divine masters, the seemingly formidable "Adventists" instantly laid bare their feeble and craven core.
The God of Order, in the stature of a deity, brought an end to gods, while the sleeping believers of Order below, as worshippers within the church's framework, would launch the fiercest onslaught against the paradigm of divine faith.
Karen felt that this must be the distinct sensation he experienced every time he said "Praise Order." Drawing an analogy to the fallen God of the Abyss: although the believers of Order had their feet planted in the abyss, their gaze was forever fixed upon the true Heaven.
The second battle formation had also been established, and the third was now being deployed.
This was a mighty army assembling before one's very eyes; what constrained it was not combat capability, but time.
Dozens of teleportation gates, passed down from the previous epoch and constantly expanded and maintained, also began their preheating warm-up.
Once explicit combat orders were issued, the Sleeper Legion would be resuscitated. There would be no time for pleasantries or reminiscing. They would immediately don their armor, take up their weapons, identify the commander of their formation, and swiftly march in orderly units through the teleportation gates to their designated battlefields, grinding the enemy before them to dust as quickly as possible.
For they hoped that if only they were frugal enough with time, perhaps within their fleeting span of awakening they might have the opportunity to step onto a second battlefield to expend whatever remained of their dying embers.
Establishing such a church and such a creed was undoubtedly arduous in the extreme. Fortunately, Karen was not the founder, and this was precisely why he was willing to serve as a successor.
Karen swept his gaze toward Daan and the others and spoke: "Commanders, return to your posts. Everything will be carried out strictly according to the operational plan."
Daan took half a step back, as did all the commanders beside him, bowing solemnly to Karen. "We respectfully obey the decree."
After the commanders departed, little Kanna asked curiously, "Mm, then when are we leaving?"
Standing atop the dragon's head, Karen answered, "We can't leave for now. We have to stay here."
The official awakening had not yet begun. Karen worried that once he departed, the prior turmoil would resurface; he had to remain here to keep it suppressed.
He couldn't help but feel fortunate that outside, Kred was there as the bona fide High Priest, along with Budalas, Alfred, and an intact bureaucratic apparatus capable of running normally.
Had he truly assumed the position of High Priest early on, stepping out to conduct these concrete operations would hardly have been so convenient—yet here of all places, his role was utterly irreplaceable.
Little Kanna asked tentatively once more, "Oh dear... but I didn't bring my homework."
Her schoolbag was a divine artifact, its capacity vast enough to effortlessly swallow a herd of elephants.
Karen saw right through her, but refrained from exposing it, saying, "Then don't do it."
"How can that be! Studying is so much fun, studying is so important—"
"Shall I send someone home to fetch it for you?"
"Uh..."
"Never mind. During wartime, let's not waste war resources on that."
"Meow meow woof!"
***
"What, Karen isn't coming back?" Inside the Administrative Temple, Kred asked Alfred.
"Yes. The Acting High Priest said the First Knight Order requires someone watching over it, lest trouble arise."
"Ah, that is fine as well. With him keeping watch there, I can rest a bit easier."
As Kred spoke, he rubbed the nape of his neck, where a bloody mark remained—a backlash from when his third decree, infused with his spiritual imprint, was torn to shreds by the First Knight Order.
Just then, Budalas walked in.
Kred feigned relaxing his posture. As Budalas drew near, he stood up and gently stretched his waist.
"High Priest, the various knight orders have complied with the decree and completed their war preparations. Preliminary work for the First Knight Order is also ready. The War Court suggests launching the purge campaign ahead of schedule to secure a timing advantage."
"I have no objection. Proceed. By the way, how are things on the alliance side?"
"The resource supplies we demanded are already in position. I don't believe we need to worry about them for the time being, as they have already begun large-scale annexation wars of their own."
"They really couldn't wait, could they?"
In the past, the existence of the Church of Order and the mutual vigilance and restraint among orthodox churches had granted medium and small denominations the room to grow and survive. But once the top orthodox churches reached a genuine unified consensus, it was absolute disaster for the rest.
Days of old, where a feeble church like the Church of Pamires could thrive simply on its spatial toolcrafting techniques, had never been normal nor could they last indefinitely. Once the time came, they would have to return to the rightful place where they belonged.
Budalas said, "This works to our favor as well. The best outcome we originally envisioned was that they wouldn't oppose us; now, not only do they not oppose us, but they have even provided us with war supplies. It is already the best possible scenario."
Kred: "Indeed. However, to launch the purge campaign ahead of schedule, we must notify the Temple. Those hidden gods and certain obscure corners still require monitoring by the Temple. I am concerned..."
Budalas: "Please rest assured. Though our Temple can be short-sighted and foolish like those of other churches, at least they are willing to act and know how to get things done."
Kred was momentarily at a loss for words. Even he, the legitimate High Priest, dared not assess the Temple in such blunt terms, yet this mysterious secretary assigned to him by the Chief spoke of it with absolute ease.
"Pass down the orders: let everyone carry out their duties. I shall remain here overseeing affairs. Wherever I am needed, tell me directly."
"Understood, High Priest."
As Budalas stepped out of the Administrative Temple, he happened to see Foden walking up the steps.
The two nodded to each other, but as their paths crossed, Foden came to a halt.
To be polite, Budalas paused as well.
Foden looked toward Budalas and smiled. "The current situation is quite complicated, and challenging."
Budalas responded, "You are quite right, Whip-Wielder."
"So, the present state of affairs cannot help but remind me of over a thousand years ago, back when Light still existed. Before Light truly vanished, who could have imagined its demise? Because of that, I admire High Priest Budalas of history all the more. He was truly extraordinary. Lately, I often take out his biography and the essays he wrote to read them over and over, hoping to draw strength and confidence from them."
"History is inherently part of our foundation, and one of the wellsprings of confidence and power."
"Indeed, I agree."
"I have other duties, Whip-Wielder."
"Go ahead."
Budalas walked down the steps, while Foden remained standing where he was, watching his retreating figure.
This mysterious secretary parachuted into his post had been around for a very, very long time.
Which meant...
Foden shook his head and thought to himself: *Forget it, what the hell is there to analyze.*
Walking into the Administrative Temple, Foden saw Alfred seated before Kred, and his eyebrow couldn't help but twitch. Glancing at Kred, who rose with a warm smile on his face, seemingly in fine spirits, Foden felt an inward sense of amusement. Fortunately, his old comrade had long come to terms with things and let go; otherwise, facing a predicament where he was utterly sidelined as a figurehead, what agony it would have been!
"I came to check on our High Priest. Heh, exhausted?"
"Not at all, quite relaxed," Kred replied. "The subordinates under me are a bit too competent."
Foden: *No shit, do you know the person who just walked out doing your work is quite likely THAT figure from history?*
"The Church of Light is about to announce its establishment. Karen was originally supposed to handle this, but since he can't get away right now, I will go in Karen's stead to attend the event."
For the Whip-Wielder of Order to attend the opening ceremony of Light—years ago, this would have been utterly unimaginable.
"Mm, go ahead. If there is any criticism or pressure within the church, I will shoulder it for you. Just say you went in compliance with my decree."
"No need for that. You underestimate me too much; I couldn't care less about such chatter. Anyway, I only stopped by to let you know in person. I'm setting off immediately."
"I'll see you off."
"Stay seated."
Foden turned and walked outward, while Alfred stood up to see the Whip-Wielder off on Kred's behalf.
The two stepped out of the Administrative Temple. Foden climbed into his carriage, while Alfred stood respectfully outside the carriage to bid him farewell.
Before the door closed, Foden suddenly spoke: "My body is giving out more and more. In the past, I counted on Karen taking over my post, but now that Karen has gone up, there's no suitable candidate to succeed me instead, so I have to keep toughing it out."
Alfred: "Whip-Wielder, sacrificing oneself at one's post in Order—the Lord will see it."
This was quite a common conversational phrase among clergy, much like how Wien people could never converse without touching upon the weather and bean paste.
Foden: "Haha, tell me, when the Lord sees it, what will He say to me?"
"The Lord will say... 'Get up and keep working.'"
Chapter 947