Destination!

“Dicarost, didn’t you say this was only an illusory miasma?” Dressed in a long black gown with a red cowl over her head, Purr questioned Dicarost, who stood beside her. The intersection straddling the two fractured spaces before them was clearly filled with a black quagmire radiating a terrifying aura of corruption. Its contamination was so severe that taking a mere bowlful back to the secular world could effortlessly trigger a horrific plague capable of wiping out an entire nation. Dicarost pondered for a moment. Just as he was about to speak, Purr cut him off: “Don’t tell me the last time you came here was over a thousand years ago. For some places, even a hundred thousand years wouldn’t change a thing.” Dicarost nodded and said, “Yes, that’s true. This isn’t a change spanning a hundred thousand years, or even a thousand years—it’s a change from the past year alone.” With that, Dicarost pointed ahead. A fallen angel flew straight into the mire. Before long, the angel’s once-resilient body began to melt away, looking like a block of wax placed upon a scorching pan. Dicarost pressed his lips together. “During the time we embarked on this journey, the world has also been undergoing drastic upheaval. The fall of numerous deities within such a short window has caused an accumulation of consequences.” “What direct connection does the fall of the gods have to this place?” “If there were no connection, why would our new God of Order send us specifically to find it? The previous God of Order had clearly become the hegemon of an era, so why did He resort to exiling all the gods, only to forcibly drag them down with Him in mutual destruction at the end of that era as funerary sacrifices?” “That’s merely your speculation. In fact, even Karen isn’t certain of Heaven’s true purpose.” “He doesn’t need to be certain. You, me…” Dicarost gestured to their surroundings. “None of us need to be certain. Not everything demands an obsession with answers, because it’s very likely that we ourselves are part of the answer.” “I don’t care for fatalism.” “This isn’t fate. A grand ideal, a meticulous plan, a monumental undertaking—the overarching momentum driven by generations stepping forward in succession, fueled by unending sacrifice and toil, is like a massive wheel. Whether you wish it or not, it will crush its way through.” “Dicarost, are you praising Order?” “Don’t forget, I graduated from Order University. In our original purpose, Philias and I were of one mind. We were exchange students, hostages, bound together for mutual ideological infiltration. The similarity between us was that both Philias and I came to truly know and deeply understand Order through the lens of an enemy. Without exaggeration, the two of us understood the true meaning of Order far better than Ukonga and Budalas, who were already Order priests back then. “Both of us knew that the Church of Order, developed to its present scale, is entirely invincible. The founding purpose of this church was never to compete within church circles in the first place! “The difference is that Philias chose to keep trying. He failed, and he went mad. As for me, I broke away from my duties in the Church of the Abyss to become an explorer. “Heh, I know you’ve always kept your guard up against me.” Purr replied, “You were my idol. I still remember the thrill when Karen awakened you and I saw you for the first time. But after spending so much time together, you haven’t bothered to hide anything. Karen gave you a second life, yet you remain a devout believer of the Abyss.” “I don’t change, nor do I hide, because I understand there’s no point in doing so. When I agreed to embark on this journey once more, I already had a rough idea of the outcome. “Oh, there was one thing I concealed: I deliberately didn’t explain the full peril of this journey to him, especially the changes that might occur here during this phase of gods continually perishing. “Otherwise, he might not have had the heart to let you lead this expedition.” The expedition was sizable, assembled from elites across various departments and specialties within the Church of Order. Even so, after traveling all this way, their casualties had been severe. Worse still, a third of the survivors were already exhibiting signs of corruption. Even turning back now would mean retracing the path they had come by, which would only double the number of contaminated individuals. By then, hardly anyone in the entire group would remain sound. Only an expedition from Order could still hold together through sheer faith; any other team would have disintegrated into infighting and collapsed long ago. “You misjudged him. He had the heart to do it. This is a gamble where every chip is destined to be thrown in. He has no way out.” “Oh, really? Including you?” “Including his entire family. He threw himself into the pot long ago. Too many people have sacrificed themselves; he has no room left for evasion or selfishness. He is also the one hurting the most.” “Very well, then let’s not overcomplicate things. We’ve come this far, so it’s up to you to decide: do we cross, or not?” Dicarost smiled. “He’s already placed his bet. It’s your turn.” Purr surveyed the priests around them, all tormented by corruption, injuries, and the harsh environment. Resolutely, she declared: “Only by witnessing Heaven will our sacrifices have meaning. Forward!” The expedition began to advance. Formed like a compact military phalanx, array masters, spellcasters, and priests maintained the perimeter defense, while those in the interior rotated to rest. As for Raniedal, he stood at the very core, his divine power unfurling to sustain the entire collective. Yet, not long after entering the polluted mire, breaches began to appear one after another. Those who were abruptly swallowed up and vanished were the fortunate ones. Far more horrifying were those who steadily lost their minds, showing signs of attacking their comrades. Fortunately, discipline prevailed. Having made it this far, everyone operated on ingrained instinct. Whenever corruption was on the verge of erupting within a companion, those beside them would act swiftly to end their life, and then press onward. Halfway across, Raniedal rubbed his bald head in helplessness. His voice resonated in the minds of Purr, Dicarost, Count Recal, and the other expedition leaders: “I can’t hold out much longer.” Even a deity could not endure this river of mire for long. Dicarost answered, “Don’t tell them. Retract your divine power to rest and gather strength. Let them use their lives to help carry us a little further.” Purr spoke up, “It seems you still don’t fully understand the Church of Order.” Purr raised her hand. Her voice traveled through the mental chains of the expedition’s psychic masters, echoing in the ears of every surviving priest: “The deity in our ranks no longer has the power to shield our entire group. He needs to rest and preserve strength for the final sprint. “Our objective lies just ahead. Right now, I need you to use your lives to buy us more ground and time. “Back home, the Church of Order is locked in battle with the gods. Countless priests have fallen. “And here is our battlefield. This is where we lay down our lives. “Now, your sacrifice is required.” Silence fell over everyone. Yet after that brief silence, prayer after prayer echoed back to Purr through the mental chains. She heard voice after voice murmuring: “Praise the great God of Order.” Immediately, Purr sent a private transmission: “Stupid dog, drop the defense and rest.” Raniedal withdrew his divine protection. In an instant, priests began losing their minds at several times the previous rate, and breaches multiplied. Yet the expedition did not descend into panic. Everyone seemed to have accepted their fate. Just as before, they struck down companions on the brink of losing control while holding fast to their posts, propelling the entire team forward. It was fair to say that every step they took now was tread upon the corpses of their comrades. Dicarost sighed with emotion. “Once, our Church of the Abyss possessed this kind of spirit as well.” Those had been the most tumultuous years recorded in *The Abyss Sings* during the previous era, when believers of the Abyss followed their god to suppress the deep abyss and hells while blazing trails for humanity in search of the glorious Heaven. Purr said, “The moment the God of the Abyss voluntarily destroyed the path to Heaven, that spirit came to an end.” Dicarost remarked, “Indeed. My Lord betrayed the God of Order.” Purr countered, “No, He betrayed Himself.” Dicarost was left speechless. Purr continued, “Had He not turned back, He wouldn’t have fallen in the skies above the Wien Empire. Instead, like Light and Eternity, the God of Order would have reserved a place for Him, standing side by side.” Dicarost remained silent. As priests perished one after another, the expedition shrank rapidly. Total collapse was imminent. Count Recal spread his arms and began to chant the epic of the Allen family. It was a chronicle of the family’s glorious pirate days—insignificant and unremarkable when compared to the grand history of a divine church, yet it was the tale every generation of the Allen bloodline had grown up hearing since childhood. The surviving members could no longer sustain their defense. Count Recal began to burn his life force, and the remaining priests followed his lead, igniting themselves alongside him. The phantom of a pirate ship manifested beneath their feet, coalescing the final power of the sacrificed. This was a newly developed vehicle technique, synthesizing the collective wisdom of every coffin-dweller gathered in Allen Manor at the time. The ship stirred, sailing from the cluster of fiery radiance into the boundless dark. Purr stood upon the vessel, watching the fading lights at the stern. Perhaps it was because the distance was growing greater; or perhaps, they had simply burned to ashes and extinguished. Count Recal had fallen, just like that. Purr hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye. Yet this was the way of explorers and pirates; partings always came too abruptly, so everyone had long grown accustomed to leaving without farewells. Raniedal touched his ear and said, “He actually left one last sentence. It was a bit far, so you might not have heard it, but I did. Do you want to hear it?” Purr shook her head in refusal. Raniedal chuckled. Because before his body was consumed by the flames, Count Recal’s final shout had been: *If you make it back alive, hurry up and have a few more children with him!* Evidently, Purr knew what he would have said. “He got his worth. Lying in the family mausoleum for centuries, yet getting to move around for so long after waking up.” With that, Purr pulled off her cowl and summoned her wand. Bending down, she pressed the wand against the phantom ship and said: “Stupid dog, help me undo my symbiosis contract with Karen.” This was the Allen family’s pirate ship. Now, she would offer herself as a sacrifice for the family vessel so it could sail further. Raniedal didn’t move. Purr shouted, “Stupid dog, do it!” Raniedal still didn’t move. Purr didn’t yell again. Flames surged from her body as she began to burn herself. No matter how mighty a god’s power was, it could change nothing when facing someone determined to die. Moreover, Raniedal knew that interfering further would only provoke an even more extreme reaction from her. “Sigh, why must it be like this?” Raniedal let out a sigh. He couldn’t help but recall that midday when he had stood on the hillside, watching Mills board a small wooden skiff and sail into the ocean’s vortex. He had originally thought that ascending to godhood would allow him to change such outcomes—at the very least, prevent similar scenes from repeating. Yet it seemed… nothing had changed. Raniedal reached out, touching Purr’s body, and began helping her sever the symbiosis contract within her. Since he couldn’t stop her, he wouldn’t let Karen be harmed through her. The pirate ship accelerated, gaining enough momentum to sail for a while longer. Engulfed in flames, Purr looked at Dicarost. “Once we reach the other shore, establish the resonance node so our Karen can sense Heaven’s precise location.” Dicarost nodded, then turned to Raniedal: “What kind of array do you think could guarantee transmitting a message before Heaven, ensuring that the most precise coordinates are sensed?” Raniedal’s gaze sharpened. Dicarost pointed at the burning Purr. “Her symbiosis contract with a god is the ultimate resonance.” With a sweep of his palm, Kevin extinguished the flames on Purr, instantly halting the dissolution of the symbiosis contract. “Stupid dog!” Kevin tapped the back of Purr’s head gently. Having already depleted a vast amount of energy, her consciousness instantly slipped into darkness. Raniedal turned to Dicarost. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” “It’s not too late now.” Dicarost shrugged. “She just gave the order for the entire expedition’s priests to sacrifice themselves. If she didn’t do something to die alongside them, she would have lived in agonizing guilt.” “Heh, you’re even more considerate than I am.” “Hardly. Others couldn’t tell, but I saw it: you’ve been holding back your strength. You haven’t touched the taboos of time this entire journey. Heh, even if I hadn’t spoken up, you wouldn’t have let her perish. “You want to bring her back. You don’t want her to die. “Do you know what that means? If you truly take her back alive, you won’t just face that person’s wrath—she, too, will suffer immensely.” Raniedal said nothing. “Sometimes, what we call protection born of care, or intervention for their own good, might not be what the protected person wants. God, press on.” Dicarost reached up and gouged out both of his eyes. Two bloody eyeballs flew toward Raniedal, who caught them in his hand. In an instant, amidst the black mire, he saw the path forward. Having lost his eyes, Dicarost opened his mouth and let out a long howl. Phantoms of angels emerged, serving as trackers to haul the ship forward. The price was Dicarost’s rapidly aging body. “Keep going! I know your story. I once visited the lost palace of the Sea God, and there, I saw the traces left by the Goddess Mills. “She said she never regretted walking into the sea that day to appease the Sea God’s wrath and secure peace for the courtesans on the island. “You don’t need to feel guilty for failing to stop her. What you did later was right—you killed the Sea God. “Now, you don’t need to torment yourself over protecting her, either. You should head for Heaven!” Dicarost’s flesh had already peeled away, leaving only a white skeleton, yet the bones continued to speak: “Even though Order awakened me, I never converted to Order. Even though my Lord betrayed Himself, I never abandoned the Abyss. “Tell Karen… “I never truly had faith in him. The reason I brought you here had nothing to do with gods—it was merely to do my roommate… my dear son a favor.” As his words faded, Dicarost’s skeleton crumbled into fine dust. The angels acting as haulers fell one after another; the ship, too, gradually dissolved. Raniedal gathered the unconscious Purr into his arms and faced backward, but looking down at the woman in his embrace, he let out another pained sigh. The power of time radiated from his body. He turned around once more, facing forward, and pressed on against the mire. An unknown amount of time passed. Raniedal’s divine body steadily wore away, his divine soul grew feeble, and even his godhead developed cracks. *Crack!* His godhead shattered, and his divine seat plummeted. Back then, for the sake of the elder sister who had danced along the beach, he had cultivated into a deity; now, for the sake of this little sister who loved riding on his back, he stepped down from the divine altar. When Alfred was penning *New Light of Order*, he had once been unable to write, at a loss as to how to describe the dog before his Lord. For its life trajectory was simply too baffling for future generations to comprehend, entirely detached from the narrative scope expected of a deity. He seemed to have lived in total confusion and absurdity, yet also with profound clarity and purpose. Perhaps he was just such an exception. In the end, Alfred decided to record it truthfully, for he faintly sensed that Kevin’s experiences would strike a deep chord with a certain segment of future readers. “Ahhh! Woof!” Raniedal reverted into Kevin. Deprived of his protection, Purr also turned back into a cat. Yet the large golden retriever continued forward, carrying the black cat upon its back. At last, it grew exhausted. Its vision began to blur, but right before it completely lost consciousness, its front paws brushed against something hard. With a heavy thud, it collapsed, slumping onto the lowest tier of the steps. Purr tumbled off, rolling several times. Opening her eyes hazily, she looked up at the towering, majestic gates above and asked in bewilderment: “Stupid dog… “Did we go to heaven, or did we actually reach Heaven, meow?”