How could a real grandfather bear to make his own grandson sad and grief-stricken?
In truth, while Karen's identity as the God of Order made Diss feel proud and delighted, it did not fundamentally exceed the boundaries of what he could understand and accept. After all, back when he had mistakenly believed Karen was an "evil god," Diss had still chosen to shelter his grandson.
No matter how fiercely the wind and rain battered outside, once one stomped the mud from one's boots at the door and stepped inside the home, identity returned to its purest state.
What Diss savored most was still hearing the bell ring from the second-floor dining room, walking downstairs, and watching Karen look at him and say, "Grandfather, dinner is ready."
Of course, descending from lofty heights to rediscover that simple, unadorned flavor of ordinary life was not something just anyone could achieve—especially when facing the identity behind Karen. Even the high-and-mighty branch gods of the previous generation would have had to address Him respectfully as "God."
Yet Diss had done it.
It was like in his youth, when he constantly sought peak after peak to scale and overcome. This time was no different.
Karen was his new rival. He had to surpass him, stand higher than him, and stand before him so that, as he did now, he could carry himself before Karen as grandfather to grandson.
He knew, of course, that Karen wouldn't mind either way. But that was how he had lived and conducted himself his entire life, and he had no wish to change now.
"Is your injury serious?"
Karen stepped forward, wanting to check his grandfather's condition. Yet though Diss stood right before him, Karen could not close the distance no matter how he moved.
Karen stopped in his tracks. He realized that this was not his grandfather's true form; what appeared before him was merely a projection so lifelike it was indistinguishable from reality.
Diss slowly raised his head. Golden patterns gradually surfaced, as if someone were using a pen to sketch simple strokes across an infinite canvas.
Head, neck, chest, limbs...
The divine body was repairing itself.
Karen finally understood why he hadn't been able to locate his grandfather earlier, no matter how hard he probed. As it turned out, he was currently inside his grandfather's "body." Even a being as colossal as Kanna was like a little gecko clinging to him.
Why was it that the mighty magical beasts and divine beasts represented by the dragons, despite possessing such massive, formidable physical bodies, had failed to claim an adequate place in the Divine Realm of the previous era, relegated to mere side dressings?
The reason was that their so-called physical bodies were simply not worth mentioning before truly powerful deities.
"I don't know how to measure my injuries," Diss answered. "I am still very unfamiliar with this."
Though he had only just ascended to godhood and had just slain a chief god, that didn't prevent him from claiming a lack of experience.
Old Hoffen chimed in, "If Kevin hadn't left, we could at least have asked that dog of a god."
Karen said, "Kevin probably wouldn't know much either. The difference between one god and another is far greater than between ordinary humans."
Diss looked down before him and said, "I cannot return to my true form right now, not only because my divine body is damaged, but also because the true form simply isn't suitable for moving about. For instance, if I stood on this dragon or faced you directly, Kanna wouldn't be able to bear it. Still, this should be solvable, though I have no clue how just yet."
"Then Grandfather, can you still return to Mink Street?"
"I can return in the form of an avatar, but my true body will have to remain here," Diss said, spreading his hands. "The feeling of becoming a god is quite wondrous. It's like tearing a piece right out of this world and claiming it for oneself—just like Hoffen's cause of death."
Old Hoffen asked, "Cancer?"
"Precisely. That is the most fitting analogy I can think of right now. Take the present, for example. My true body stands here, and even without me making any conscious movement, it still instinctively and spontaneously strips away the parts it needs from this ruined crypt world to repair itself."
Old Hoffen said, "Diss, what you're doing is beyond ordinary gods. According to the records in the notebook, only chief gods can turn their divine body into a divine kingdom and strip small worlds to replenish their own deficits."
"Are you saying I stepped directly into being a chief god?"
"How should I know? I'm not the one who became a god. But I saw with my own eyes that the God of the Crypt couldn't outlast your health pool."
Old Hoffen paused, then continued:
"Although a deity's power cannot be measured precisely—my Lord, for instance, was an extreme case—a combat-oriented god like you is actually fairly easy to compare. The branch gods of Order had to drag other chief gods down with them through mutual destruction, yet you weren't dragged into the grave by the God of the Crypt. Granted, the former had spent countless eras sealed away and were severely depleted, but at the same time, within the barrier, they also had the blessing of the God of Order's power... To put it crudely, you must have already become or come very close to a chief god. The God of Order's prediction about you was truly spot-on. And another thing..."
Old Hoffen flipped "himself" open, as if searching for something:
"My Church of Principles once analyzed the patterns across past epochal shifts and discovered a constant commonality: regardless of what caused the shift between eras, a new, powerful god would inevitably rise to lead a fresh reshuffling. Eternity rose this way, and so did Light after Eternity. Diss, you are that kind of person."
Hearing this, Diss showed not the slightest excitement. He merely said calmly, "Old friend, even if you want to write a script, you should show some originality. Tropes like 'the Chosen One' or 'Child of Destiny' are far too cliché."
"Then why do you think the God of Order chose you to be His grandfather? Was He truly making amends, or was He using this method to forcibly pull someone with the potential to become an era hegemon in the next era into His camp?"
"The God of Order took a liking to Karen."
"Eternity left on His own, and Light yielded His throne, but when the God of Order made arrangements for His ideal, He explicitly left seats for the two of them. If we add you to the fold, Diss—if there are four era hegemons—I suddenly feel that the final battle isn't so hopeless after all."
Diss reached out and closed the book, effectively forcing his old friend to shut up for the moment.
"You don't understand Him. He disdains such transactions. He is proud."
The two grandfathers finished their conversation, and Karen spoke up again. "Grandfather, I will issue orders immediately for the church to muster resources and manpower to repair your divine body here."
This wasn't abusing public resources for private ends. For a newly risen deity, and a formidable one at that, He was entitled to the church's resources to begin with.
"Can the church still spare the strength right now?"
"It depends on what it is. For this, there won't be any problem."
At this moment, multiple figures appeared in the distance. Several tombstones requisitioned temporarily from other sectors arrived first, followed by a vast host of priests further back. Karen even sensed the erection of a massive teleportation gate—a whole knight order was being transferred straight here.
Clearly, the Temple had sensed the miscalculation here and immediately scrambled to make amends.
Though their response was swift, had Diss not been holding down the line beforehand, the God of the Crypt would have likely feasted to her heart's content before departing.
Seeing Diss's divine body faintly coalescing and repairing itself, the tombstones shuddered in shock, then bowed in unison toward Diss's divine silhouette:
"Greetings, My Lord."
"Greetings, My Lord."
The title "My Lord" here was not an everyday courtesy, but a specific honorific.
The Temple Elders arriving shortly after were equally stunned before promptly joining in the worship.
They knew full well that any hope of avenging the grudge against the man who had single-handedly upended the Temple was gone forever. And they, this generation of Temple Elders, would likely serve as little more than background dressing in the divine histories of later generations, chronicling this deity's glorious exploits before His ascension.
Diss asked, "Do you have urgent business next?"
Karen smiled faintly. "My duty next should be to properly receive and win you over."
"Accompany me to the Extreme Cold Lands. I want to see Eternity."
"Grandfather, you want to see Him?"
"There are questions that only He can answer for me."
Beyond that, there was another reason: Order and Light were up in the heavens; only Eternity remained in an indeterminate state, having descended yet not fully descended.
Karen knew that the questions and answers his grandfather spoke of were actually about learning.
For members of the Inmeles family, as long as there was a model and instruction laid out before them, learning was the simplest thing in the world.
"Grandfather, I need to arrange matters here first. I'll also notify Richard to come over so we can go together."
"Mm."
Diss tapped the notebook in his hand, but it gave no response.
Evidently, Old Hoffen was sulking over Diss forcibly shutting him up earlier.
"Old friend, make some room for me."
At that call of "old friend," Old Hoffen ultimately softened. He opened the notebook, and Diss merged inside.
Because his true body had to remain here, Grandfather would have to move around in the same form Old Hoffen once had for quite a long time to come.
The notebook settled into Karen's hands, and Old Hoffen's grumbling drifted out:
"Hey, Diss, what do you think you're doing? Laundering the book? A thousand or ten thousand years from now, should this notebook be called the Principles Notebook or the Order Notebook? Hey, hey, hey! You're still expanding! How many pages do you plan to take up? You're about to squeeze the original text right out of the book!"
Karen looked down. Beyond vast expanses of blank pages, only a faint, slender section of paper still retained ink, and the handwriting had shrunk to an absurdly minute scale, requiring the Eye of Order just to decipher it.
This book was like a bed: if one person hogged too much space, little was left for the other.
"Grandfather, how about I find Sisa and get you a suitable divine artifact to inhabit instead?"
To his surprise, Old Hoffen was the first to object: "Don't! I think things are just fine as they are."
Seeing this, Karen shifted his attention. Standing atop the bone dragon, he flew out from the range of the divine body. The tombstones and Temple Elders bowed to him in turn:
"Greetings, Acting High Priest."
Karen's gaze swept across the area, finally settling on a streak of light hurtling toward them from behind—it was Ukonga.
"Greetings, High Priest."
The Temple's most maverick troublemaker was, paradoxically, the most deferential when facing Karen.
"There are three things I need you to do."
"Yes, High Priest. Please instruct me."
"First, you will oversee the mobilization of all available resources to repair this divine body. Bear in mind: I mean at any cost."
"Understood."
"Second, seal off the crypt world. Enforce a complete information blackout on what took place here."
In so vast a cavern world, with such monumental upheavals, total secrecy was impossible. When the battle raged earlier, monitoring departments across countless orthodox churches had likely already detected it.
Yet this was just like how the outside world constantly speculated about how much strength the Church of Order had expended to resist the gods and how much it had left. You could let the outside world know you were weakening, but you couldn't let them know just how weak you were.
Diss's ascension to godhood could serve as a concealed trump card to ensure the Church of Order continued to brandish its title as the "First Church," keeping the entire church circle suppressed and awed.
"Third, send people to bring Richard Guman from the Yorktown Region here at top speed."
***
"He's already gone."
On Red Leaf Street, Philomena, walking behind Richard, gave the reminder just as Madame Tangli had instructed.
Madame Tangli had warned her countless times:
*Child, you must learn to express displeasure at your partner's fondness for visiting pastry shops! Not just stand guard outside while he fools around inside.*
Philomena had explained to Madame Tangli that Richard was "treating his illness."
Madame Tangli had merely scoffed with disdain. "If Delon caught that disease, I'd rather let him die of it and pick out a nice coffin for him."
"Come on, follow me."
It was the same pastry shop as last time, and still the extravagantly generous Master Aisen.
With a thick fistful of hundred-riel bills tossed across the counter, the young master booked out the entire parlor once again for the day.
Meanwhile, the aunties working in other shops along the street who caught wind of it rushed over to queue up if they were free, and those in the middle of a customer hurried their pace so aggressively they dealt a brutal blow to their clients' self-esteem.
Today, however, Richard had no intention of listening to songs, hearing stories, or hosting a tea party. He led Philomena straight to the back of the establishment, where a battered sofa sat next to a dilapidated door leading to the washroom.
Richard rubbed his hands, muttering something under his breath, before solemnly grasping the doorknob and pulling it open.
Behind the door was not a washroom, but the passage leading to Mount Anlamende.
Eternity had once used this door to take Karen and Neo to the summit for a meeting; Richard, on the other hand, was bringing Philomena here for a date.
"Come, let's head in."
Richard gathered his courage and took Philomena's hand. Philomena looked curiously at their entwined fingers.
Richard asked nervously, "What's wrong? Er... is this moving too fast?"
Facing the girl he liked, he couldn't help but feel uneasy and overly cautious—even Master Aisen, who ruled Red Leaf Street, was no exception.
Philomena said, "I've seen Karen and Eunice together. When they stand side by side, they wrap their arms around each other's waists and lean in close."
"Huh?" Richard immediately nodded. "I can do that too."
Then, Richard's waist was seized, and the girl's hand firmly pressed his head against her shoulder.
Richard: "..."
Evidently, the daughter of the Felscher family had only picked up the visual composition while overlooking the gender details.
And so, locked in this exact pose, the two walked through the doorway and arrived at Mount Anlamende.
"How's the scenery here?" Richard asked.
"Very nice," Philomena replied.
A solemn ceremonial altar of the Divine Realm across the past two eras had now been turned into a quiet park for young lovers to stroll in.
Before the throne in the palace of the Extreme Cold Lands, two light screens flickered. One displayed the crypt world, while the other showed Mount Anlamende.
In the former, Karen was issuing commands to the Temple in his capacity as High Priest, his bearing and competence utterly flawless. In the latter, Richard was held tightly around the waist by a girl, his head awkwardly pressed against her shoulder, looking profoundly uncomfortable yet thoroughly enjoying himself.
The God of Eternity's voice echoed through the hall:
"Why is it that compared to Order's chosen successor, the successor I picked looks like an absolute idiot?"
***
Master Aisen had paid the money but requested no services. Granted, Master Aisen had never asked for that "final service" in the past, but the ladies were at least used to putting on a display of their talents.
This left the aunties queuing outside the pastry shop rather perplexed.
One auntie, who had gone out of her way to put on a pair of expensive stockings today, sighed in disappointment at having missed her chance to show them off:
"Sigh, did the sun rise from the wrong direction this morning?"
No sooner had her words fallen than a "sun" indeed rose.
A dense ray of light descended from the heavens, shining brightly down upon Red Leaf Street.
Rohan descended, looking bewildered. The aura that was just here a moment ago... vanished?
Then a second sun rose as another Temple Elder arrived.
Immediately following came a third... a fourth...
This was an emergency decree issued by Karen, and Ukonga had pressed the matter with immense urgency. Consequently, Temple Elders descended one after another. After all, to Ukonga, this wasn't merely carrying out a decree of the High Priest—it was a divine decree!
The garrison forces of Yorktown were alarmed. Everyone assumed another battle had broken out in Wien. Even Bern rushed over atop a falcon to investigate.
What he saw gave him quite a fright: a total of eight Temple Elders, eight towering figures, all crammed into tiny Red Leaf Street, pressed so tightly together they were almost cheek to cheek.
The dazzling radiance caused the minds of everyone not just on Red Leaf Street, but across the entire district, to grind to a halt. When it passed, they would think nothing had happened at all—just a momentary daze.
Richard and Philomena finally emerged after having had their fill of fun on the mountain.
Stepping out of the pastry shop doors, the first thing they saw was the dazed, queuing aunties, followed by dazzling rays of light and eight towering figures reaching into the sky.
All eight bent over together, as though leaning close to inspect an ant.
"Is it him?"
"Should be."
"There can't be a mistake, right? We've already wasted a lot of time, and they're pushing hard over there."
"Let's just ask."
"What is your name? Are you Rich—"
The inquiry boomed from the manifestation. Though the aunties in line possessed no clear consciousness, their instincts were triggered, and they shouted in unison:
"Master Aisen!"
"It isn't?"
"Did we get the wrong person?"
"He's an Order priest, no doubt, but the name..."
Richard immediately blurted out, "I'm Aisen—no, I mean Richard. Richard Guman."
When men walk out of a pastry shop, their minds are as clear as a sage's, and the last thing they want is to run into an acquaintance outside the door, which is why they usually hurry away.
Even with psychological fortitude as formidable as Richard's, he was thoroughly spooked by this colossal and absurdly high-end formation. His brain short-circuited for an instant, so after admitting his identity, he instinctively tacked on a polite greeting:
"Ha, what a coincidence! Did you elders come for pastries too?"
Chapter 955