Chapter 89: Water

Chapter 89: Water

"The son-in-law... of the Allen family?"

Count Recar cast the queen from his knees, rising to his feet and fixing his gaze directly upon Karen, who stood below.

To meet his eyes was to stand upon the shore, marveling at the boundless expanse of the ocean while the sea itself, in mute mockery, reminded you of your own insignificance.

"The sea tells me you speak no lie."

Karen strove to maintain a facade of calm, offering a nod.

He had indeed spoken the truth, though as it turned out, a selective rendering of the facts could yield a vastly different impression.

Here was a being arrogant to his very marrow. It was as though his character were a towering trunk of pure defiance, adorned only with a few minor traits for decoration.

Karen had deliberately avoided the First Ancestor and his monument earlier, yet the man had dragged him into this space of his own accord.

It seemed that even in death, the very corpse within the tomb retained its insolent instincts.

"The year is..."

Recar’s voice faltered, his brow knitting slightly as though he had plunged into deep thought.

"Agh..."

At that exact moment, a sharp pain flared in Karen's forehead, as if someone were violently tugging at his mind.

"Not long ago, I annihilated the pirate coalition in the Sea of Pulos, and drowned three eighth-tier believers of the Merovingian family as sacrifices to the depths. I should have only just returned to port.

The Queen received my letter three days past. She bathed early, donning her most precious gown and the crown that symbolizes the royal authority of Wien, awaiting my pleasure.

I even gave her the Purple Soul Crystals of the Merovingians as a token, so she might encrust them upon her crown upon her return.

Such is the tradition of us pirates. We never default on our debts to whores.

For they are our greatest solace, the faith that keeps us alive to return when facing the tempest and the foe.

Yet...

Something is amiss.

Why does it feel as though this scene did not just occur, but transpired long ago?

Ah,

I remember now.

Afterward,

I seem to have engaged in the naval battle of Marciel Island, and the encounter at the Dickenon Straits...

No,

I can see even further..."

"Agh..."

As Count Recar continued to dredge up his memories, the agony in Karen’s head intensified. It felt as though a pipe had been driven into his brain, violently siphoning away his thoughts.

"...In the Third Battle of the Long Harp Sea, I vanquished the Westland Coalition, slaying their commander with my own hands. Yet my blood brother, Bowen, and my five most trusted lieutenants all perished.

I myself was grievously wounded.

It seemed I had grown weary of the corsair’s life. I went ashore, returning to the Allen Manor.

I lay upon my bed,

Watching the autumn outside my window.

Suddenly, I understood.

I had not grown weary of the sea, for I had already left the finest years of my life, the finest memories, to the deep."

Recar’s gaze hardened.

He spoke:

"I am already dead!"

"Ah..."

Karen collapsed to his knees, clutching his head with both hands.

The sensation had escalated from a pipe draining his mind to an axe cleaving his forehead open.

In the next breath,

The reveling sailors upon the deck vanished entirely. Queen Gloria III, who had been pushed aside moments before, was also gone.

Upon the entire vessel, there remained only Recar standing above, and Karen kneeling below.

To Karen's immense relief, though his head still throbbed, the progressive escalation of the agony ceased.

Pressing his right hand against the deck, Karen attempted to rise, only to find he could not even maintain his balance. After several futile efforts, he remained on the floor.

But soon,

Karen felt a pair of hands grasp his shoulders, lifting him bodily upward.

Count Recar stood before him.

"I am already dead."

"Yes..." Karen nodded to him.

"Given that I am dead and yet you can still see me, you must belong to the Church of Order.

You are of Order... Yes, only the Church of Order possesses the power to 'Awaken' the dead. Not to control a corpse, but to 'Awaken' it.

No,

That is not right...

In life, I was an eighth-tier believer of our family faith, and had briefly touched the threshold of the ninth tier.

Those of the Church of Order indeed possess the ability to 'Awaken' a corpse, but for a vessel endowed with spirituality, the price of such an 'Awakening' is immense.

And for a corpse that possessed a system of faith in life, the difficulty and the cost multiply manifold.

I once jested with the Chief Bishop of York City from the Church of Order, asking him if he could 'Awaken' me should I perish.

He told me that even at the cost of his own life, he could not 'Waken' me, for my faith system was too elevated.

To 'Awaken' me, perhaps only the Archbishop of the Wien Region would possess the capability, and even then, only by paying a monumental price."

Above the rank of Inquisitor lay the Adjudicator; above the Adjudicator stood the Law-Speaker; and above the Law-Speaker was the Regional Bishop.

In a lesser nation like Rulan, the entire country constituted a single domain known as the Rulan Region, whose primary authority was the Chief Bishop.

The status of the Wien Empire was beyond comparison with Rulan; after all, Rulan was merely a tributary state to Wien.

Thus, the capital of Wien, York City, held a rank directly equivalent to the entire Rulan Region. In the hierarchy of the Church of Order, the Chief Bishop of York City stood on equal footing with the Chief Bishop of the Rulan Region, and the former even held a subtle half-rank advantage.

The Archbishop of the Wien Region, however, possessed a rank that completely transcended that of the Rulan Region.

An Archbishop of this echelon, should they ascend further, would become a Patriarch, entering the true pinnacle of the Church of Order’s decision-making circle—a great round table where they might sit to advise and chart the course of the Church's development.

And Lasma, as the High Priest, was the arbiter who presided over that very round table.

Besides, the High Priest was merely a position, its actual rank equal to that of a Patriarch.

Which meant that when the Chief Bishop of York City predicted that Recar was qualified to 'Awaken' his Archbishop of the Wien Region, if he just advanced one more tier, the next step would be just like Rasma, to strive for the qualification to enter the Temple of Order.

"Hahahahahahaha..."

Recar suddenly burst into booming laughter,

releasing his grip on Karen's hand,

his demeanor shifting into something akin to reverence.

"So, after my passing, my Allen family has flourished to such heights that we can intermarry with an Archbishop?"

"..." Karen.

Count Recar seemed immensely exhilarated, even breaking into an excited dance, entirely devoid of the cold, supercilious air he possessed when sitting aboard the ship with his arm around the Queen;

at this moment, he was as joyous as a child.

Watching this scene,

Karen suddenly came to an understanding.

That was the spiritual shackle formed by the concept of "family" for people of this era and cultural background.

Even though I am dead, upon 'learning' that my family continues to thrive and grow, I still feel a profound, heartfelt joy.

For "family" was their glory, their continuity, their totem—an inseparable part of their very existence, the vessel of their lives and being.

This was something Karen had never truly understood, his past knowledge merely skimming the surface and form;

because the environment of his previous life, the very soil that nurtured a "family" atmosphere, had long since dissolved, and he himself had never lived under such a familial culture, and even where it persisted in some places, its core had faded, leaving only the shell of form.

And when he first woke up in this life, the Inmmers family was actually very similar to his "small family" from his past life, not a clan.

The warmth of the Inmmers family that Karen perceived could be seamlessly accepted from the perspective of his previous life.

Therefore,

even after being a cat for so many years, Pu'er still remained deeply attached to its family.

That day, holding Pu'er while standing on Aceros's head, Pu'er's vulnerability was not simply "homesickness," but a "family complex," the realization of returning to where the other half of its life resided.

This was a profound sentiment that one could never truly comprehend without genuinely experiencing and stepping into it.

People like Pu'er and Recar possessed a very faint concept of "nation" and "state"; as one waned and the other waxed, the concept of "family" actually absorbed a portion of the emotional bonds that would belong to "nation" and "state."

Karen understood why that black cat became so intensely devoted and excited upon returning home, even making him feel it was a bit much at one point, like it was fitted with a little electric motor, bustling about all day and constantly urging everyone;

due to the difference in their respective "cultural spheres," to him, Pu'er was busy for the family's interests, but that black cat riding around on a golden retriever was actually "saving the nation from extinction."

Karen felt his mind go blank as the boundary between reality and simulation began to grow starkly clear.

Yet at the same time, he could feel that Count Recar possessed the ability to "imprison" him here.

Just as "he" had actively dragged him in earlier, he must now be situated within the spiritual world preserved inside Count Recar's corpse.

Mandila's warning was correct.

The greatest difference between the Order Network's "Awakening" and the corpse manipulation of the Bewitching Demons lay in the fact that "Awakening" allowed the deceased to truly wake with their living memories intact, naturally granting them a greater degree of freedom, though the price of this "freedom" was that after some time, their spirituality would completely evaporate, turning them into pure carrion;

moreover, while his own abilities were indeed quite special, his strength was not sufficient, allowing him to cross multiple tiers to "awaken" a corpse, but leaving him without the capacity to resist the accompanying risks.

Count Recar could easily strangle his soul right here, if he so wished.

Therefore, the grand plan he and Alfred had envisioned—to seek out the corpses of legendary figures and unearth them for summoning—though beautiful in theory, was indeed a pure act of seeking death.

Fortunately... he was the son-in-law of the Allen family.

"I am not fully awake..." Count Recar seemed to recover from his excitement, looking at Karen with a calm countenance. "Can I fully awaken now? I feel I could give it a try."

"No... there is no need." Karen immediately spoke to stop him.

Count Recar's previous conscious awakening and cognitive recollection had already caused him excruciating pain; Karen could hardly imagine whether he would be instantly drained into a desiccated corpse if the man attempted a full awakening.

However, there was another possibility: once his spiritual consciousness awakened, he could spontaneously complete the "Awakening" of the corpse himself.

But Karen dared not gamble; after all, it was not yet time to stake everything on a bet.

The reason he came to the Allen family cemetery in secret to conduct this experiment was to quickly find external military support for the currently destitute Allen family—at the very least, giving them the ability to protect themselves, so they wouldn't wake up one day facing the doom of the entire clan being herded into a pigsty.

Keeping it from old Anderson's family was, first, because Karen was only making an attempt, and if it failed in secret, no one would know and it wouldn't matter; second, if it succeeded, this would be his special trump card, which he did not wish to reveal too early unless absolutely necessary, especially while he was still weak.

Though Karen also knew that if he told old Anderson he possessed such an ability, the man would probably be the first to come with a shovel to help dig up his ancestors, letting Karen pick whichever one caught his eye, since there were so many ancestors to choose from.

Because once the Allen family was utterly ruined, not only would the living members face a wretched end, but the bodies of the ancestors buried within the estate grounds would certainly not be preserved; spiritual corpses were, after all, rather precious materials.

For the survival of the Allen family, old Anderson was willing to give the position of patriarch to an outsider like him, let alone the corpses of his ancestors.

"No need... then shall I return to my slumber? I can feel that while speaking with you, my spirituality is slowly slipping away," Recar said. "Why did you awaken me?"

Due to his identity as the "Allen family son-in-law" certified by the sea, Count Recar bore no malice toward Karen; coupled with his own assumptions, he even used honorifics when speaking now.

"Before long, a major event may unfold in the Allen family. Due to the Church of Order, I cannot personally intervene, but I can awaken you to witness it."

Karen did not know if "the sea" still possessed its lie-detection capability in this state, but he was still very careful to speak the truth.

"Then it must be a grand event for the Allen family. Truly, my heartfelt thanks to you, thank you for giving a dead man like me a chance, a chance to rise and look once more upon the powerful family of today!"

Karen squeezed out a smile.

A powerful family... did he mean the family with only three tier-three members, one of whom was a cripple?

Karen even worried that if Count Recar truly awakened one day and found the Allen family reduced to this state, would his pride drive him to simply slaughter these disgraceful descendants to avoid tarnishing the family name;

of course, as an outsider sitting in the patriarch's seat, he would probably be the first target choked to death as a symbol of shame.

"I am leaving now..." Karen said.

Recar said with great respect:

"Thank you for your visit."

The last trace of restriction, or perhaps "detention," was released;

Karen's body floated upward,

the pirate ship beneath his feet growing smaller and smaller.

A thought suddenly crossed Karen's mind: if after death, one merely lives within one's own dream, then death seems to be quite a fine destination?

But then, how many people possessed the strength of Recar, whose corpse could still retain its spirituality without completely dissipating after death?

Finally,

Karen opened his eyes.

"Young Master?"

"Young Master!"

The voices of Alfred and Borg came from beside his ears. Karen found himself kneeling before that pirate ship tombstone, blood trickling from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, his entire face feeling somewhat sticky;

on the ground, a pool of it was still continuously dripping.

In his mind, a sentence he had read in the book Light of Order echoed:

The God of Order once awakened twelve powerful experts to become the Twelve Knights of Order guarding his side.

Then,

Cullen lost consciousness completely.

...

Mike's wife, Lady Lisa, tucked Cullen's hand back beneath the quilt and spoke to the family gathered around:

"Master Cullen has likely overexerted his mind. This fainting spell is due to severe exhaustion, so a good rest should see him recover. It's just..."

"Just what, Lisa?" Old Anderson pressed.

His daughter-in-law's family also possessed a belief system, but it was a minuscule clan whose path lay in the healing profession.

"It is just that while Master Cullen is still young and his body and mind can endure it, he cannot afford to overextend himself frequently, or it will leave irreversible damage."

"Oh, I understand."

Old Anderson let out a long breath and turned his gaze toward Borg, asking, "What did Master Cullen do to cause such mental exhaustion?"

Borg shook his head and replied, "Without the Master's permission, I will not disclose his matters to anyone."

Old Anderson gritted his teeth instantly, yet he did not flare up. Instead, he reached out and patted Borg on the head:

"Very well, you have done well. That is exactly how it should be.

Let us all leave and allow the Master to rest. After a good sleep, he will wake."

...

"What on earth did Cullen do to end up like this!" Purr asked, glaring at Alfred. "What exactly have you two been hiding from me!"

Alfred looked back at Purr and answered, "The Master practiced the formation array from Mr. Hoffen's notes."

"He is mad! He hasn't even undergone purification yet. How could he possibly sustain the energy consumption of a formation array? This could drain him dry!"

"Is it not because a certain cat has been rushing him day after day lately, incessantly chattering and piling on the pressure?"

"..." Purr.

Alfred turned and departed;

Purr silently padded into the study, leapt onto the windowsill, and slowly lay down, watching Cullen as he lay on the bed.

This posture was maintained for a very long time, until the sky turned entirely dark.

Kevin the Golden Retriever walked into the bedroom at that moment. He froze, for he saw two Purrs upon the windowsill.

One Purr wore a top hat with a pearl necklace around her neck, sitting upright on the windowsill with an elegant, prideful grace;

The other Purr appeared utterly indolent, as though lying on the sill, sleeping while basking in the "moonlight," the cool beams casting a softer sheen over her fur.

The golden retriever lowered his head, rubbing his eyes with a paw. When he looked up again, only a single Purr remained on the windowsill, slowly standing up.

And at that moment, Cullen had also awakened.

"Woof!"

The golden retriever barked excitedly, drawing near to lick the back of Cullen's hand.

Purr, meanwhile, moved from the windowsill to the bed, lightly treading up Cullen's quilt until she finally stood upon his chest, staring into his face.

"How long was I asleep..." Cullen asked.

Purr did not answer, choosing instead to lie silently prone across Cullen's chest.

"How long was I asleep?"

Purr remained silent.

Cullen reached out to stroke Purr's head, but she extended a paw and gently pushed his hand away.

"What is wrong?" Cullen asked.

"Cullen..."

"Hmm?"

"Leave the manor. It would be best if you took Eunice with you; she ought to be willing to go with you.

The Radio Sprite is by your side and can look after you.

Oh, and take this stupid dog along too."

"And what about you?"

"I... I don't know." Purr lay down on her side, her tail erect as she hugged it with her paws. "Every time I enter that study and look at those portraits, I cannot help myself."

"I understand. After all, this place is your home."

"But Number 13 Mink Street is also my home. I have lived there for an even longer time than I have here."

Purr rolled onto her back upon Cullen's chest, her feline limbs splayed out:

"Go on. Living lightly is what matters most, is it not?

This was also Diss's wish; he wanted you to always live happily and freely."

Cullen reached out, resting his hand on Purr's belly to give it a gentle rub.

"That tickles, meow..."

Purr clasped Cullen's hand with both paws, her entire body curling into a fluffy ball that seemed to hang from his arm.

"But Diss also told me something else."

"What did he say?"

"He told me to take good care of you."

---

I will try to finish writing "Pur