The Epochal Hegemons Descend!

Smiling, Ankara raised her small hand, and the God of Order took it in his. The scene looked exceptionally heartwarming. Perhaps this was a conventional, storybook ending: the former hegemon, at the final moment of his life, choosing an ordinary resting place. Yet Karen did not believe that such father-daughter affection could fit the God of Order so seamlessly. For no other reason than that he and this god were simply too alike. Other believers might rack their brains for generations trying to interpret a divine oracle, but for Karen, it was as simple as putting himself in the god's shoes. He had descended ahead of time, and now he was leaving. He had offered Karen many words of encouragement, and he had even helped sweep this place clean. He was who he was, yet this time, he hardly seemed like himself. Order was a mask. Karen wore one upon his face as High Priest; could the face of god truly be so clear and pristine? If that were truly so, why was one forbidden to look directly upon God? Ankara skipped along happily, walking step by step into nothingness with her father under Karen's gaze. She was the God of Order's daughter, but the purpose of her birth had actually stemmed from an experiment by the God of Order targeting the hunger addiction. *Thump!* His heart gave a violent, sudden throb. Karen clutched his chest with his right hand, his eyes widening. He suddenly understood. At this moment, from the God of Order's grand design, the sealing of the epoch, the fall of the pantheon, down to this final descent—everything coalesced into a crystal-clear thread in Karen's mind. *So that's how it is.* "Hehehe... Hehehehehahaha..." Karen let out a laugh. He was joyous, yet also despondent. Yet at the very least, the confusion and dejection that had weighed on his heart for all these years were gone. "So it turns out you can be hypocritical too." Hearing this, the God of Order, who was on the verge of dispersing entirely, came to a halt. Curious, Ankara turned her head to look back at Karen, tilting her head with puzzlement in her eyes. The God of Order did not turn around; he merely said calmly, "I told you: it was you yourself who chose Order." Karen closed his eyes and nodded. He said nothing more. Instead, he turned around of his own accord and walked away in the opposite direction. He did not linger in place to watch the God of Order meet his end. Rather, it was the God of Order who finally turned around, looking at Karen's receding figure: "This is also the world you love, is it not?" The two figures stretched and drew further apart. Two generations of the God of Order parted at this moment, and passed the mantle at this moment. The figures of the God of Order and Ankara slowly faded away. As he walked away into the distance, Karen suddenly sensed the call of a great power. The laws of Order within him swelled, turning profound and majestic. The "path" that had been completely barred now opened into a boundless rift. The God of Order had fallen. This meant Karen could now fully ascend to godhood. Yet he was suddenly in no rush. If he ascended like his grandfather, his true self would have to remain outside; in that case, he might as well wait a little longer. He lifted his head and looked upward. Powerful, terrifying auras were already drawing near, and traces left behind from the ancient epochs across the world were gradually stirring back to life. This was the final battle: mighty, dreadful, extraordinary adversaries wielding despairing power. Yet Karen no longer felt his previous panic and urgency. He even wanted to take this last brief stretch of time to be alone in peace. With the fall of the God of Order, the entire Church of Order plunged into profound grief, and its upper echelon fell into deep bewilderment. However, just as Karen was about to step out of the shattered space, altars rose one after another before him. Upon each altar stood a figure, with a colossal avatar towering behind them. There were several dozen people in all—several dozen temple elders, clad in the vestments of various churches and wearing masks. This was likely the final reserve of the Silent Ones. The dozens of altars radiated light, converging in the air above to manifest an enormous masked face. The masked face spoke: "High Priest of Order..." Karen showed no fear. Calmly, he asked, "Who are you?" "The Ancestor of Prophecy—Ximojia. I am about to return." Many of the prophetic lineages surviving today, such as the Church of the Mural God, traced their origins back to him. Yet no one could have anticipated that he was the true creator of the Silent Ones. Yet on second thought, it seemed hardly surprising. Only he could have prophesied the arrival of this godless epoch across vast stretches of time and prepared countermeasures so far in advance. By comparison, the God of the Crypt's approach seemed far too crude and devoid of finesse. The God of Order had brought Karen here, and now that the God of Order had fallen, Karen was left alone. Of course, this was by no means a miscalculation on the God of Order's part, nor an oversight regarding Karen's safety. Because his death was itself the best guarantee of Karen's safety. Therefore, facing the encirclement of these temple elders, Karen was not afraid in the slightest. "Your god has fallen. He fulfilled his ideal and forged an entire epoch devoid of gods. Now the dream has ended, and it is time to face reality—and that goes for the Church of Order as well." Karen remained silent, though he understood Ximojia's intention. The epochal hegemons were returning, and Ximojia was relying on the organization he had left behind in this world to secure an advance outpost. "Swear fealty to me, and I shall grant the Church of Order my protection in the new epoch." Karen chuckled. "Do you know? I've never liked prophecies or divination. Every time a result comes out, it's either forced nonsense or utterly ridiculous. Even if the resulting vision happens exactly as seen, the true meaning turns out completely opposite." "You do not have long to consider, nor will we give you time. It is your responsibility to choose the best path for the Church of Order." The dozens of temple elders unleashed their collective might. The instant Karen refused, they would strike without hesitation. Karen nodded. "The direction of Order was not chosen by me. It has weathered two... no, now three epochs, without changing in the slightest, unwavering from beginning to end." Ximojia said, "Then meet your end." Karen closed his eyes, preparing to ascend to godhood. One had to admit, the timing chosen by this Ancestor of Prophecy was impeccable—if Karen were merely an ordinary High Priest of the Church of Order. Karen was annoyed, because Ximojia had robbed him of the small, simple peace he had wanted to savor at the very end. Just then, however, a massive scythe tore through space and appeared there. Closely following it was an imposing... grandfather. Karen opened his eyes, halting his nascent ascension. Looking at Dis, who had rushed over, he suddenly felt his eyes moisten. Dis was also slightly bewildered, having sensed a faint trace of helplessness and grievance emanating from his grandson—emotions that, by all rights, should have been completely foreign to him. Then, Dis turned his divine gaze toward the temple elders from various churches within the Silent Ones. It was very much like a grandfather whose grandson had been cornered and bullied by a gang of bad kids in the alley outside their home, now stepping forward to back his boy up. Ximojia said, "You too should submit to me—" Before the Ancestor of Prophecy could finish, the Scythe of War slashed through the colossal mask, reaping the lives of seven or eight temple elders in the same stroke. When Dis had just ascended to godhood, he had been capable of slaying chief gods. Now, after spending over half a year studying the memories of Eternity, he had grown even stronger; dealing with these temple elders was child's play. "Await being torn completely to shreds, fodder for defying the age!" Ximojia's voice still echoed from the void. Dis responded, "I await your arrival." The remaining temple elders tried to flee, but Dis showed no mercy, crushing their avatars and annihilating their souls. Gathered together, their presence was intimidating, but one could hardly expect these elders drawn from different churches to possess coordination or tactical formations. What was more, what they faced was not a weakened returning god, but a newly ascended one. Once everything was settled, Dis walked over to Karen and asked, "What happened?" Karen shook his head. "Nothing, Grandfather." "And him?" "Fallen." "So are you a god now?" "I can be." "Those epochal hegemons will descend in one day. There is not much time left for us." "We will win, Grandfather. We will definitely win." "Of course. With your grandfather here, how could I let you lose?" "Let's go home, Grandfather. I miss home." Dis's expression grew solemn. Sensing something, he hesitated as if wanting to speak, but in the end he asked nothing, simply nodding. "All right. Let us go home first." ... Allen Manor. Eunice stood by the bedroom windowsill, clad in a long blue gown. Holding architectural blueprints, she studied them while basking in the sunlight, the gentle rays draping over her and accentuating her radiance. At that moment, inadvertently, Eunice caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the corner of the bedroom. Yet when she looked closely, it was gone. "Hmm?" Eunice did not believe her eyes were playing tricks on her, for just moments ago, she had felt his presence—and even now, that presence had not dispersed or departed. *Honk, honk... honk, honk...* The honking of a car horn sounded from outside. A secondhand black Ponce had stopped there without anyone noticing. Karen stepped out of the car and looked up. The window swung open, and Eunice leaned out. Seeing the person standing below, she broke into a smile; at that moment, it was as though two suns had appeared in the sky. Hearing that familiar horn, Old Anderson hurried over with his family to kneel before his grandson-in-law, who was now High Priest. But when the group reached the castle's rear gate, they found the car gone—and vanished along with it was his granddaughter. Up in the sky, a bone dragon was soaring merrily. At the dragon's head stood a young man and woman. The girl held onto the dragon's horns with both hands, while the boy stood behind her, gently encircling her waist with his arms. Behind them, secured by the skeletal frame so it wouldn't slip off, was a black car. Little Kanna had not the slightest complaint about having to haul a car; after all, Sister Puer had raised her with the constant lesson that "our family isn't wealthy, and we can only afford to keep her supplied with coffee." "Was that you in the room earlier, too?" Eunice asked. "Yeah." "Why did you go back down?" "Because I wanted to see you open the window and smile at me again." Once, Wien and Roga were far apart, requiring a long journey by ship; now, they were close, traversable on dragonback. Karen brought Eunice to the door of No. 13 Mink Street. Little Kanna picked up a pill, took a bite, and asked with feigned nonchalance, "Um, isn't it time to pick up Sister Puer?" "We will." Pushing open the door, Karen led Eunice inside by the hand. "Oh, heavens! Either nobody comes back, or everyone comes back all at once!" Aunt Mary wore a look of pleasant surprise. Her father-in-law, who had been missing for over half a year, was back, and her nephew, who had also been unheard from for over half a year, had returned as well. "Hello, Aunt Mary." "Huh, you two made up again?" Aunt Mary asked in astonishment. Just then, the hearse pulled up. Stepping out were Uncle Mason and his assistant, Ron. "Damn it all! We lost out to Coroman Funeral Home again. They're just too fast—they actually pitched tents in the hospital parking lot a week in advance! Aha, Karen! Look at that, you brought back another beautiful young lady! Just like I said, even without the young lady from the Allen family, you could easily—" After getting a clear look at Eunice's face, Mason's eyes bulged. Mainly, the narrative of their nephew being jilted by a prominent family and living a solitary, destitute life had already been dramatized and analyzed countless times during their nightly pillow talk. Who could have thought there would be another twist? Karen said, "Aunt, Uncle, I'm cooking tonight." "Sure, sure! As long as you don't mind the work, haha." "A few friends and colleagues will be joining us. There will be quite a crowd, so let's set up a buffet down in the mourning hall on the first floor." This was a revenue-generating model Karen had introduced back when he worked at the funeral home. "Whatever you say, Karen, whatever you say." Karen walked up to the second floor and entered the kitchen. Eunice followed: "I'll help." "Mm." While Karen prepared dinner, Mina, Lunt, and the other kids came home from school first. They buzzed around Little Kanna, and Lunt asked inquisitively, "Kanna, how come you don't seem to have changed at all?" Mary smacked the back of her son's head hard enough to nearly knock him flat. "Can't you see your little sister is taking medicine?!" Mina reminded her, "Mom, you're messing up the generations." Next came Neo, Richard, and Philomena. Mason grew excited the moment he saw Neo, stepping forward to give him a hearty embrace. "Hey! Where have you been all this time?" "Haha, I tried to buy the dip on a stock." "Did you save it?" "It's half-dead. Probably hopeless—can't see a speck of light." "What a shame. Why don't you stay here with us again? Looks like you're out of money anyway." Richard stayed on the first floor, while Philomena went up to the second floor. She stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Karen and Eunice bustle about inside. Karen glanced at her and asked, "What are you standing there for?" Philomena said, "Keeping up appearances." Alfred arrived, followed by Muri, Ventura, Vic, Leon, Bern, Dalivenro, Madame Gandiro, Budalas, and the others. In the first-floor mourning hall, plenty of dishes Karen had personally cooked were laid out. Mason and Mary treated it as a family reunion dinner; Bern and the others viewed it as a rallying banquet before the final battle. Alfred stood alone in a corner holding a plate, eating quietly. Budalas came over, munching on a spring roll as he asked, "Feeling down?" Alfred said, "This is a mourning hall. It feels like we are mourning at a funeral, having a meal on the side." "Oh?" Budalas looked around. "A bit, yeah. But who are we mourning?" Alfred pointed toward the empty mortuary slab in the center. "Perhaps only the Young Master knows." Before dinner had ended, Karen slipped out of the house and arrived outside Piaget's door. Mr. Bede was tending flowers and plants in the courtyard. Seeing Karen appear, he looked visibly flustered. "Eunice is here too. Go over to the house and see her." "Yes, of course." Mr. Bede did not refuse; putting down his tools, he left. Karen walked toward the front door, only to see it slightly ajar. Behind the gap sat Piaget in his wheelchair. Karen paused before the door and asked, "Won't you invite me in to sit for a while?" "You are my friend forever, Karen. Truly, my best friend." With that, Piaget closed the door. Karen lingered for a moment, then asked, "No new paintings lately?" "N-No." "Then I'm leaving." "Mm." Karen turned and left Piaget's home. Tears streaming down his face, Piaget looked at the special paints in his hand. "You said believers of the Church of the Mural God are madmen, but the real madmen are all of you who believe in Order... heh." Beginning in the latter half of the night, the changes across the world grew increasingly distinct. Marvels unseen in a millennium emerged one after another in rapid succession. Towering silhouettes were already standing tall across this realm. Without the barrier of the God of Order, they were descending. The orthodox churches couldn't help but halt their annexations and begin pulling back their strength. Outside the Whip-Wielder's office, Viglin was tearfully paying homage to the God of Order, while the Whip of Order headquarters was filled with clerics in silent mourning. Inside the office, Foden gazed at the glass container on his desk, within which was a miniature ant kingdom. Foden reached out and lifted the lid of the glass terrarium. The glacial cold within the office rushed inward rapidly. Foden stood by, preparing to watch the ants freeze to death. Just then, a hand appeared, took the lid, and set it back in place, sheltering the ants inside. "Hey, I say, you really have less and less respect for your old superior nowadays. Barging into my office whenever you please—do you really take yourself for Big Mhm?" Foden chuckled and cursed as he sat down in his chair, crossing his legs and eyeing Karen. Karen asked, "Who is Big Mhm?" "The Chief! Didn't the Chief love popping into my office out of nowhere with a clone back then? He's Big Mhm, and you're Little Mhm. Those are the nicknames I gave the two of you. Well? Aren't they fitting?" "I am not Little Mhm." "Ah, it's just a nickname. If you don't like it, we can change it." "I am the God of Order." *Thud!* Foden slid straight off his chair and fell to his knees on the floor. The entire motion was impossibly smooth, looking not only as though it had been rehearsed countless times, but as though he had been mentally prepared for it at every single moment. "Stand up." "It's fine. Now that I can finally kneel, I feel much more at ease." Foden crossed his arms and bowed to Karen. "Praise the great God of Order. Please bestow your divine decree." "There is no divine decree." "Then you..." "Before Big Mhm left, he specifically instructed me to come before you when the time was ripe and reveal my identity. Big Mhm wanted to see the look of shock on your face. However, my Whip-Wielder, you had already figured it out." Foden smiled wryly. "No helping it. All the wrong options had already been eliminated..." Karen nodded. "I must go." "God?" "That person disliked being called God; so do I." "Little Mhm?" "Mm." "Where are you going?" "He just finished sweeping this world clean, yet how long has it been? The world is filthy once more." A godhead slowly emerged before Karen, and his aura began to surge violently. The believers of Order, still submerged in grief over their god's demise, froze one by one, for they felt it: God... had descended once again. At the base of the 1st Knight Order, the final two tiers of the pyramid opened. All the coffins were rolled out, and the awakened clerics began to chant. Outside No. 13 Mink Street, Alfred produced the *New Light of Order*. Holding a quill pen, he brushed gently over the emblems representing the inheritance of the godhead: "Everyone, the Young Master is summoning us." When the aura of the God of Order manifested in the world once more, a furious roar came from Eternity: "I want to fight him, not you!" The other epochal hegemons sent forth their divine will one after another: "Even if a new Order is born, it is too late! All has become unchangeable!" "We have returned! This world must be restored to its proper course!" "New Order, if you do not join us, we will destroy you!" "This world no longer needs this burdensome Order!" Karen's divine manifestation expanded continuously, standing just as colossal and towering to the heavens. His will swept across the entire world, and facing the threats and provocations of the epochal hegemons, he responded with utmost calm: "The leftover trash of past epochs belongs in the garbage dump."