Chapter 99: Spear of Punishment!

Chapter 99: The Spear of Punishment!

“I hereby declare the inaugural meeting of the Ace of Spades organization a resounding success.”

Clap, clap, clap!

Alfred, presiding over the gathering, rose to his feet and initiated the applause.

Yet, though Purr and the golden retriever both slapped their paws in obliging compliance, they could conjure no actual sound. Coupled with Karen’s merely superficial gestures of courtesy, the concluding atmosphere felt somewhat fractured.

These, however, were trivial details. Alfred remained certain that this very scene would be afforded prominent, sweeping brushstrokes upon future murals.

With their plans established, Alfred summoned Borg. While Borg possessed no right to join the counsel, the fruits of their deliberations and the projects ahead demanded a reliable errand boy.

It could not be helped; Alfred bore the duty of safeguarding his young master, while a cat and a dog were ill-suited as emissaries—especially since the hound remained mute.

Before long, Old Anderson arrived at the study, accompanied by Mike and Mr. Bede after a grueling day. Karen withheld any mention of the royal family’s designs against the Allen estate. Instead, he simply instructed that once Prince Henry’s funeral date was set, the precise itinerary must be coordinated with him, adding that they must strengthen communication with the crown—specifically, the Queen herself.

After all, she had just lost her beloved great-grandson… or perhaps her grandson, for who truly knew?

Old Anderson nodded in seamless agreement; this was already the established compact between the Allen family and the crown, and he would have pursued it even without Karen’s bidding.

When evening fell,

Karen, freshly bathed, reclined in bed with the notebook Purr had provided to address Mike’s physical affliction.

Truthfully, Karen could not entirely decipher it, but this did not deter his absolute fascination.

A family’s belief system, awakened through the bloodline, manifested in a fashion entirely distinct from a church's faith, which flowed from true gods and cosmic laws.

Yet once channeled into the physical vessel, many paths converged toward a singular truth.

Only, the diagrams Purr had sketched regarding the human body and elemental circulation verged on the metaphysical. Prior to his purification, Karen would have found them utterly incomprehensible; now, he could trace the lines, mimicking the gestures with simple sweeps of his hand.

At this juncture, restoring Mike offered a swift avenue to bolstering their combat strength, though it could not be rushed. As a physician, he had only just graduated, with his residency still ahead.

Upon the windowsill, Purr and the golden retriever lay facing one another. Purr flipped a page:

“Meow?”

“Woof!”

“Meow?”

“Woof!”

The two were locked in debate over the selection of spells for Karen’s cultivation, set to begin the following morning.

The Church of Order was a colossal faith. Its current evolution and vast scale differed immensely from its infancy under the God of Order, having grown considerably richer and branched into numerous facets.

The trajectory from Divine Shepherd to Inquisitor, and up through the higher echelons, formed merely the primary trunk.

Within the holy see lay myriad other paths of ascension, including systems adopted and refined from entirely separate religions.

The spells were truly overwhelming.

Attempting to master them all resembled memorizing a comprehensive library of textbooks. It required experienced mentors to circle the core knowledge, tailoring the curriculum to Karen's specific circumstances.

Fortunately, the feline instructor had resided within the Inmoles household for nearly a century and possessed an intimate familiarity with the architecture of the Church of Order.

The canine mentor required even less justification. By Purr’s deduction, since the beast could be summoned through an exceptional ritual of the Church, it had highly likely been suppressed by the God of Order in ages past. Even if the deity had not acted personally, the high authorities of the Church had certainly sealed it away.

One mentor knew the path intimately, having witnessed Dis’s own cultivation; the other had endured the lashes firsthand. Their combined focus would undoubtedly yield twice the result for half the labor.

As for Alfred, he sat apart, utterly absorbed in studying Mr. Hoffen’s notes. His grasp of fundamental arrays had advanced rapidly of late, a debt he owed to the canine mentor.

Furthermore, his innate Demon Eye afforded him a supreme advantage in learning. Had it been otherwise, Rasmar would never have coveted his eyes; as High Priest, Rasmar wanted for no ordinary treasures.

Alfred’s current endeavor was to fully master a fundamental blessing array within the Church of Order, known as Order—Primary Rendering.

The array itself offered neither offensive nor defensive utility, yet it elevated the efficacy of spells and formations of the same attribute within its domain. In short, it provided a buff and redistributed pressure.

Ever since the young master had suffered a severe overdraft and fallen unconscious after attempting to awaken Count Rekar, Alfred believed this formation could alleviate the strain on his lord.

Though he knew not whether the black chains emerging beneath the young master’s feet at the time constituted an array or a spell—and suspected the young master himself was equally ignorant—it mattered little. Either would suffice.

Man, cat, and hound were all consumed by labor.

Karen set his notebook aside,

turned,

and switched off his bedside lamp.

Sensing their master’s impending rest, the bickering between the cat and dog on the windowsill quieted instantly, and Alfred softened the rustle of his turning pages.

Karen closed his eyes.

In that moment, he felt a fleeting resonance with the university dorms of his past life.

Yet considering the reality,

it felt more as though several brilliant scholars were burning the midnight oil to prepare lessons for a mere primary student.

Regardless,

before long,

Karen drifted into sleep.

***

Morning arrived, bringing a rare, brilliant sunshine, though the dawn breeze carried a distinct chill.

Borg arranged the cushions ahead of time, and Karen took his seat.

They were surrounded by lush, verdant grass—a spectacle truly rare in winter. The Allen family’s choice to erect their castle here in the early years had indeed factored in many considerations; even the current greenery stood as a testament to the family’s enduring heritage.

Yet such remnants, once a family fell into ruin, easily transformed into an original sin.

Purr sat perched upon the golden retriever’s back, her head adorned with a small red hood.

Karen accepted a sandwich from Borg and began to eat. After yesterday’s ordeal, he would not permit himself to dine in unearned tranquility for some time.

He even postponed instructing Old Anderson to construct a small kitchen for him on the third floor.

Occasionally, one could not help but lament that only after departing from Dis did the peace of preparing a meal for one’s family reveal itself as such a luxury.

“Borg.”

“Yes, young master.”

“Demonstrate your abilities first.”

“Right away, young master.”

Karen wished to observe the manifestation of the Allen family’s faith system first, and Borg was undoubtedly the ideal candidate.

Borg advanced to the center and closed his eyes. When he opened them, a brilliant spark of fire flared within his left eye. Immediately following, two fireballs materialized over his outspread palms.

Purr, who had been idly watching the landscape drift in the wind, fixed her gaze upon Borg the instant the flames appeared.

“What of their destructive power?” Karen inquired.

Borg cast the fireballs forward. After traversing five meters, the spheres fractured, dissolving into drifting embers.

Karen chewed his sandwich, reflecting silently: In actual combat, this is entirely useless.

It might be flashy enough to inflict psychological pressure upon a foe, but its true potency and effect fell miserably short of a common rifle.

"Master, this is how the first level of the family's faith system works. It merely proves that I have awakened the lineage and possess the ability to use the bloodline power. I have seen second-level users in the family demonstrate their abilities; they can ignite blazes, create water mist, or freeze things from a great distance."

"Oh," Karen muttered, nodding. So if it really came down to a fight, one had to be at least at the second level.

Those at the first level were nothing more than a cheerleading squad. Yet, the dilemma remained: if there weren't enough first-level practitioners to provide a sufficient base, there would be no way to nurture and develop more second and third-level individuals.

"What about the third level?" Karen inquired.

Borg answered, "I have heard other family members mention that at the third level, one can condense and coat oneself with the power of fire or water. This increases defensive capabilities while simultaneously enhancing physical attributes across the board in that state, such as speed and reaction times."

Karen nodded. Looked at this way, only the third level truly matched the impression of an "expert" in his mind.

No wonder Purr had said that the third level of the Allen family's faith system was roughly equivalent to Alfred. After all, the first level was like performing magic tricks indoors, and the second level was like performing them outdoors; only upon reaching the third level, with the mastery of elemental powers complete, could it actually be used for combat.

Purr narrowed his feline eyes, keeping his gaze fixed on Borg.

"Very well, you may rest now," Karen said.

Borg did not step down, however. Instead, he licked his lips and spoke to Karen:

"Master, I have another secret."

Upon hearing these words, Purr's gaze softened considerably.

"Oh?"

Borg closed his eyes once more. When he reopened them, a faint blue hue manifested within his right eye—the lucid sheen of water.

Immediately following this, two spheres of water appeared in his palms, which he then cast outward.

"Splat!"

The two water spheres struck the ground and burst apart.

"You have both water and fire?" Karen looked at Borg with a hint of astonishment.

Karen was well aware of how difficult this was. After all, Michael had blown his own legs to pieces in his single-minded pursuit of harboring both water and fire within a single body.

The portrait of the Ancestor Allen had hung in the study for generations, urging descendants one after another to pursue this dual-attribute template, which invariably led to the geniuses of each generation ending up crippled or maimed.

Yet the youth before him possessed both attributes while still at the first level.

This was a genius, a true genius of the Allen family.

Considering that Judia was born into royalty—even if her family relations were chaotic, the resources she received were bound to be different—whereas the boy before him had spent his entire childhood growing up in a brothel.

Thus, though Judia was slightly younger and had already reached the third level while Borg was only at the first, they were, in essence, geniuses of the same tier. Most importantly, Borg's potential for future development was vastly broader than Judia's.

Karen instinctively reached up to stroke his chin.

Could it be that the Ancestor Allen, from the ethereal realm, had perceived that his descendants had degenerated to an utterly pathetic state and had begun to spark forth geniuses?

Or perhaps, since the Ancestor Allen had died long ago, this lineage passed down through time could be regarded as a living entity. After all, even bacteria could be viewed as a "colony" and observed and defined through colonial developmental patterns; why couldn't a bloodline be viewed the same way?

This bloodline had sensed the imminent danger of its own total extinction, so it had awakened geniuses in this generation to save itself.

Except this method of self-salvation was somewhat farcical.

One had awakened in the Gloria family, and the other in a brothel.

At this thought,

Karen turned his head to look at the distant castle architecture, lost in reflection.

Perhaps his own view had been too narrow?

The bloodline merely sought to preserve its own existence, but the bloodline possessed no sense of belonging to the Allen Estate.

To extend this premise, was the relationship between the laws, the Church, and the True God not the same?

They appeared to be in a symbiotic, conjoined state, yet each actually operated according to its own set of fundamental rules. In the eyes of outsiders, their relationship was actually that of the most familiar strangers.

Borg had intended to wait for Karen to question him, but seeing Karen suddenly look into the distance with no intention of continuing the conversation, he could only drop to one knee before Karen and volunteer:

"Master, the Allen family does not know that I also possess the water attribute ability."

He had concealed it from the Allen family. He could have just as easily concealed it from Karen, but he chose to voice this secret. After all, the most direct way to draw closer and integrate into a group was to "share a secret."

Purr turned his face away, silently twitching his feline lips at the empty air before him.

Karen brought his wandering thoughts to an end and nodded to him, saying:

"I understand."

A smile surfaced on Borg's face. He stood up, retreated to the perimeter, and then, leading his horse, walked further away to come to a halt.

"He is a genius," Purr remarked, offering his assessment.

Beyond that, he did not say much else. After all, judging by the outcomes of yesterday's meeting, he felt that he had actually been overtaken and squeezed out by that radio sprite. It was clearly this cat who had arrived first!

Human perception required a process. After passing through the initial phase of "excitement" upon returning home, Purr clearly recognized a new crisis: the bond was fading.

"Can you teach him?" Karen asked Purr.

"I can. I will discipline him as much as possible, and just have the radio sprite convey my words. When you feel the time is right, you can pull him into the Ace of Spades, and I will be able to speak directly to him then."

"Mm." Karen nodded. He wiped his mouth and hands with a handkerchief, stood up, and walked to the center of the clearing.

The golden retriever trotted over with a notebook in its mouth. Karen took the notebook and opened it; four spells were recorded inside.

"These are four fairly practical spells for the Divine Servant stage. The difficulty is considered quite high for this level; an ordinary servant would need to practice them for a very long time, but you should be able to manage quickly."

"How long did it take Dis to learn them back then?" Karen asked.

"Dis..." Purr frowned slightly. "It seemed Dis always knew them the moment he looked at them."

"Right, I see."

Karen examined the first spell closely and asked, "Does the incantation need to be this long?"

"The incantation is an aid to help you better resonate with the laws or the God of Order. It is like when you beg someone to help you; you would certainly say as many pleasant things as possible, wouldn't you?

Of course, once you become powerful, it is like having an established rapport; a simple, brief phrase to convey the intent will suffice, or even a direct glance."

"Mm." Karen indicated his understanding.

"Now then, stand properly first, open your right hand. We brought the book 'The Light of Order,' but you can also pretend you are holding it in your hand; this can better help you communicate with the God of Order.

Imagine the majestic God of Order; you are praying to him, calling out to him, begging him to bestow the radiance of order upon you. What an immense blessing that is."

Purr attempted to guide Karen through the process using traditional teaching methods.

Yet what surfaced in Karen's mind was the image of the God of Order walking along, casually flicking a vast, boundless expanse of starlight from his fingertips.

While you were praying to the god with utmost sincerity, the god was actually responding in a highly perfunctory and casual manner en masse, and this response still depended on identity, status, and rank.

The most absurd part was that this god... lacked a divine will. He was merely a divine husk, or what could be called a puppet named "God," coldly executing divine duties.

Once this scene and this realization appeared in his mind, Karen found himself utterly unable to conjure the kind of emotion Purr spoke of.

That sort of sacred prayer, warm calling, and sincere gratitude... no matter how he looked at it, he felt like a sycophant without a bottom line. Furthermore, you knew that the object of your flattery was merely the mechanical gears of a running apparatus; in the end, managing to lick a drop of machine oil would be counted as a divine gift.

However, at this moment, the image of Dis surfaced in Karen's mind once more:

Dis: The God of Order was raised by a whore.

Therefore, respect was not entirely necessary.

Karen took a deep breath.

His left hand lay open before him,

As he chanted:

"O Great and Supreme God of Order, O Chain of Order that decrees all things;

Hear my sincere calling, grant sanctuary to your believer, and guard this heart of mine that yearns for order and my unswerving faith in it!

Order—Primary Shadow Armor of Sanctuary."

The moment the words left his lips, the shadow behind Karen surged upward. His face, his skin, and his clothes instantly darkened in tone, as though a cloak had been draped over his form.

Alfred's mouth fell open: A success on the very first try?

The golden retriever's jaws also parted wide, its tongue lolling out as it gave a panting shake of its head.

Purr was instantly thrown back into memory, recalling the scene of Dis practicing Order arts after completing his purification in his youth. This grandfather and grandson pair, to say they were alike was an understatement; they were simply... identical.

Oblivious to the reactions of the surrounding cats, dogs, and the radio, Karen merely glanced down before continuing to recite the next spell;

Well, the nonsense at the beginning was exactly the same.

"O Great and Supreme God of Order, O Chain of Order that decrees all things;

Hear...

Order—Primary Mist of Concealment."

A faint layer of mist manifested around him, swirling toward Karen and enveloping his figure.

Next,

Karen proceeded to the following one:

"O Great and Supreme God of Order, O Chain of Order that decrees all things;

Hear...

Order—Primary Door of the Wall."

"O Great and Supreme God of Order, O Chain of Order that decrees all things;

Hear...

Order—Primary Black Feather Encirclement."

In front of Karen, the phantom image of a black door panel appeared; on either side of his body, two black wings materialized, wrapping him within.

At this moment,

With the black shadows, the black mist, the black door, and the black feathers, Karen was completely blanketed by an assortment of dark elements, making it utterly impossible to tell that a person was still standing inside.

"Cough..."

Karen let out a cough,

And the black shadows, mist, door, and feathers all dispersed at once. His complexion remained ruddy, showing not the slightest sign of excessive spiritual energy depletion. He only asked with a hint of perplexity:

"Did you guys painstakingly select these four last night? How come they are all defensive?"

Purr replied, "Because everything studied at the Servant of God stage consists of defensive arts, as a Servant's sole purpose is to protect themselves well and allow themselves to grow."

"Are there none with offensive attributes?" Karen asked.

If every fight from now on meant simply pulling a turtle shell over himself and waiting to be beaten, what was the point?

"The Revelation stage is also primarily focused on defensive arts, combined with learning arts to better hear revelations from God. Things change once you reach the Shepherd stage, where spells with offensive attributes appear. After all, if an Inquisitor is viewed as a local police chief, then a Shepherd is equivalent to an investigator under his command."

"Are there any here?"

Karen began flipping through the pages.

"No," Purr said. "I think at this stage, being able to stack defenses to protect yourself, or buying as much time as possible to wait for the radio to rescue you, is already enough. I was worried that over-loading too early might cause you to overdraw yourself, though looking at it now, your performance is far better than I anticipated. I might consider looking for more..."

Karen flipped to the later pages and discovered a page where the handwriting was terribly hideous;

If the previous handwriting could be called cat-scratch text, then this page was, in every sense of the word, a dog's scrawl.

The Spear of Punishment?

Karen shifted his gaze to the golden retriever, who gave him a knowing twitch of its eyelids.

But instead of reciting this dog-scrawled text directly, Karen asked Purr, "Which stage does the Spear of Punishment belong to?"

"The Primary Spear of Punishment? That's studied by Shepherds... Damn it, you stupid dog, how dare you secretly include advanced material!"

Purr realized something instantly, her cat paws swatting straight toward the dog's head.

"Can I try it?" Karen asked.

Purr stopped her scratching and hesitated, "Well, you can try, but if you feel your body cannot bear the burden, you can choose to stop early just like before."

Receiving confirmation, Karen nodded.

He truly did not want his very first lesson in magic to end with him continuously putting turtle shells on himself.

With a solemn look on his face, Karen chanted according to the dog's scrawl:

"O Great and Supreme God of Order, O Chain of Order that decrees all things;

Permit me to borrow your strength to punish acts that violate order, and to wipe away the dust for order;

Order—Spear of Punishment!"

After the recitation concluded,

Karen opened his eyes and looked around him, finding no sign of a spear appearing anywhere.

So,

Did it fail?

As expected, skipping grades to learn magic was not that easy.

Just as Karen decided to face reality, he suddenly noticed that Alfred, Purr, and the golden retriever ahead were all staring above him, looking as though they had seen a ghost.

Karen raised his head as well,

And discovered,

Floating above his head was a black spear, surrounded by black mist, its shaft rippling with ancient and mysterious inscriptions.

It succeeded!

Karen instinctively reached out his hand, intending to grasp the spear, but the weapon merely drifted higher following the motion of his hand.

It seemed it could not be held by hand;

How was he to control it?

Karen shifted his right hand toward the east, and the Spear of Punishment above his head began to turn its direction accordingly, aligning almost perfectly with the path of his right hand.

Oh, so that was how it worked.

Karen raised his right arm,

And the Spear of Punishment flew even higher as a result,

Karen pointed his finger toward a patch of green land in the distance,

As though with absolute clarity in his heart, the word slipped from his lips:

"Chastinement."

"Buzz!"

Karen staggered, his head jerking back as if struck by an open palm, and he could feel the faint warmth of liquid about to drip from the tip of his nose, but... it was bearable, a far cry from the days when he would instantly overdraw his strength and plunge into unconsciousness. This sensation made Karen feel that he could manage another shot.

The Spear of Chastisement flew straight ahead, plunging into the vacant expanse of green.

Immediately following,

"Boom!"

Though Karen had consciously aimed a bit further away, the sheer force of the explosion still defied his imagination. Moreover, because of the continuous rain over the past few days, the ground was already soft and damp. In an instant, a massive deluge of soggy black mud along with green grass was blasted into the sky, raining down entirely upon Karen and his companions, leaving every cat, dog, and human present utterly drenched in filth.

Purr murmured, "Impossible, this is impossible. How is this a novice Spear of Chastisement? This is clearly chasing after the advanced rank. Oh, heavens, damn it, Karen! You didn't chant 'novice' during your incantation, so it automatically defaulted to the maximum level of magic your body could withstand! You missed a word, Karen!

Stupid dog, you actually didn't write it out in full!!!

I am going to scratch you to death, you stupid dog! Do you have any idea what could have gone wrong?!"

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

Karen first wiped away the mud from his face with the back of his hand, then used his palm to dab at the nosebleed currently trickling out.

Exhaling a long breath,

He smiled and said:

"Not bad."

——

While writing the previous chapter and trying to think of a name for the conference, I happened to have a deck of playing cards right by my hand. I flipped through them and thought the Ace of Spades looked the most pleasing to the eye, so I chose it. Additionally, I only remember that there seems to be a brand of wine also called Ace of Spades. When I wrote in the previous chapter that Karen felt a bit unnatural hearing this conference name spoken aloud, it was because the protagonist felt it carried a sense of adolescent chuunibyou cringe that made him uncomfortable.

Furthermore, I only know the traditional rule of "concealing the faults of the honorable, the close kin, and the worthy." Any other taboos or mysterious metaphors are completely irrelevant and need not be strangely linked together; when the heart is clear, the sky is naturally bright.

Since you have subscribed all the way to this point, you are at least an apprentice by now. If you still think I am intentionally playing with internet memes to disgust people, then you truly underestimate the standard and professional integrity of an old author like me. Everyone read through the free period of the new book before deciding to subscribe after it went on sale. Since you chose to spend your money, you surely chose to believe in the free content and this author.

Therefore, could you please have a little confidence in your own aesthetic taste?

There is another update tonight, though it might be a bit late, and I will strive to have it written by one in the morning.