Chapter 104: Awaken, Count Recar!

Chapter 104: Awaken, Count Rekar!

"One, two, three, play!"

The conductor raised his baton, and the music swelled.

It was a deeply moving, melancholic piece titled *Wien, Please Do Not Cry for Me*.

Karen was quite fond of the melody, and it was precisely because of this fondness that he could not help but feel a tinge of regret. This composition, penned centuries ago by the musician Delmens exclusively for the royal family, had assumed a rather different guise in the long torrent of history.

Presumably, after keeping Count Rekar company at the docks, Queen Gloria III would return to her palace, wiping away her tears while listening to this very tune.

With that shift in perspective,

the music, which originally possessed a grand and solemn majesty, now carried a subtle, lingering air of grievance and resentment within his mind.

Melodies were much like garments; one looked at the style and the cut, but ultimately, it was the person wearing them that mattered most.

Of course, in the eyes of the ordinary citizens of Wien, the royal family and Her Majesty remained objects of deep affection and reverence. Perhaps, this was merely a case of distance lending enchantment.

Accompanied by the music, the Queen entered the Allen Estate riding in a royal-edition "Diamond" limousine, flanked before and behind by escort vehicles—a grand and imposing motorcade.

Furthermore, the Palace Guard Cavalry had also ridden into the grounds. Yet, as Karen watched them astride their horses, he felt a spark of concern, genuinely fearing they might tumble off at any moment.

Even as mere window dressing for the palace and the Crown, they were utterly incompetent.

According to custom, the Queen’s motorcade entered through the main gates but did not come to a halt until it reached the rear of the ancient castle.

The Queen stepped from the vehicle. At ninety-five years old, the frailties of her advanced age were impossible to conceal.

She had, however, applied a thick layer of powder, so under the flash of the journalists' cameras and the current state of photographic quality, the Wien media could continue to boast that their Queen remained ever youthful.

Yet Karen could clearly discern the liver spots upon her wrists and neck.

Old Anderson went personally to receive the Queen, and then, Mr. Bede took his place to offer her his arm.

With the playful demeanor of the elderly, the Queen gently brushed Mr. Bede’s hand aside, turning instead to say,

"Have your daughter support me."

Eunice, attired today in formal black evening wear, stepped forward to take the Queen’s arm.

The Queen reached out and patted the back of Eunice’s hand, murmuring, "It has been long since we last met. You grow more beautiful by the day."

"Your Majesty grows younger with each passing year as well."

"Heh-heh."

The Queen let out a soft chuckle and, leaning upon Eunice, walked into the castle.

Karen, maintaining his guise as an ordinary youth of the Allen family, walked forward alongside his two brothers-in-law. While observing the Queen, he also cast an analytical eye over the attendants surrounding her.

Among them, there were bound to be adherents of the family’s faith system, or perhaps even devout followers of the Church.

Upon entering the castle, the Queen seated herself in the parlor and began to take some water.

Everyone stood waiting at her side, the faces of the footmen and maids of the Allen Castle glowing with a reflected pride and honor.

It was fortunate that Purr was not present; otherwise, she would surely have lamented, *How fallen we are, how fallen.*

To go to an extreme, Purr might even have sneered, *A harlot of the Gloria line comes to the door, and you think it a cause for grand celebration and pride?*

The Queen began to grant audience to the core members of the Allen family in the parlor.

Meanwhile, the Queen’s master of the household began instructing the accompanying palace servants to carry Her Majesty’s personal belongings upstairs for arrangement. During the handover, upon learning that the Queen’s bedchamber for the night was to be the master bedroom on the third floor of the Allen estate, the master of the household could not help but feel a flicker of surprise.

According to royal chronicles, successive Queens had frequently visited the Allen Estate and often stayed overnight, yet the Allen family had never before surrendered the master bedroom of their patriarch.

However, the surprise was only fleeting. After all, the declining Allen family of today could only continue to lower its posture before the Crown.

In truth, the master bedroom had been vacated by Karen’s deliberate design.

Old Anderson had tried to persuade Karen that such measures were unnecessary, but Karen had remained steadfast.

For within the Allen Castle, the two safest locations were the patriarch’s study and the patriarch’s bedroom.

Yet from another perspective—namely, from Karen’s previous experience—the safest places were often the most impregnable cages.

Purr had already reacquainted herself with the family’s magical arrays. Once Her Majesty retired for the night, they would be able to "settle" her within.

When the time came, Karen would awaken Count Rekar, leaving him to settle this lingering debt of ill-fated romance.

Old Anderson sat beside the Queen, while Bede brought his wife Jenny, and Mac brought his wife Lisa, to pay their respects.

The Queen offered a few words of comfort to Mac, who sat in his wheelchair, but Karen noticed that the elderly maid standing behind the Queen cast several pointed glances at him.

Ah, had she detected that the malady within Mac’s body had been resolved?

Next came the younger generation. Karen’s two brothers-in-law, along with Mac’s son and daughter, stepped forward in turn to greet the Queen and receive the gifts she bestowed upon them.

The gift given to Eunice was the most precious: a strand of pearl necklace.

Once the formal protocols of hosting were complete, the Queen took a brief rest. Afterward, she rose and, still supported by Eunice, walked out through the main doors of the castle toward the performance hall.

It was not a long walk, but for the Queen, it proved arduous.

In truth, the performance hall was located right at the entrance of the Allen Estate. Had the Queen disembarked directly at the gates, she could have gone straight to mourn her great-grandson.

But clearly, rules and etiquette were far more important than the dead.

Karen did not follow her any further; satisfying his curiosity by beholding Her Majesty’s countenance was quite enough.

To Karen’s slight surprise, however, Judia had not followed.

Yet this was easily understood. For this visit, not only had Prince York abstained from coming, but not a single member of the immediate royal family had accompanied her. If they had come, would they not have been required to stay overnight at the Allen Estate alongside the Queen?

In that case, would they not risk being caught in the crossfire?

Still, Karen suspected that Judia would find a way to steal in secretly, for she dreamed of nothing less than seeing the progenitor of her bloodline—the man she called her father, Count Rekar.

After the Queen finished viewing her great-grandson’s remains in the performance hall, Old Anderson arranged for dinner, even though it was only mid-afternoon.

The Queen herself was accompanied by Old Anderson and the core members of the Allen family, while her retinue was entertained separately by the estate's stewards.

Following the meal, the Queen’s lady-in-waiting announced that Her Majesty was feeling unwell due to overwhelming grief, and thus requested that arrangements be made for her to rest early.

The Queen’s retirement meant there would be no further activities for the remainder of the evening.

The journalists from the various major newspapers were the first to depart, followed by the accompanying officials and other mourning guests.

By dusk, Prince Henry’s funeral service had officially drawn to a close. Within the Allen Estate, virtually none remained save for the inhabitants of the manor and the Queen’s personal servants.

Old Anderson finally removed himself from the frantic business of hosting Her Majesty. At his advanced age, such exertion was truly becoming too heavy a burden.

Since the Queen had retired early, he intended to lie down as well. Consequently, after giving a few instructions to his two sons and several stewards, he returned to his chambers, supported by his youngest son, Bede.

Old Anderson was remarkably devoted in matters of the heart. Following his wife's passing, he had never remarried, maintained no mistresses, and held no interest in the maids of the estate. On many occasions, he would not even permit the maids into his room to clean.

For a man of his status and position, living such a austere life was indeed astonishing. One had to consider that in York City, even a widower with meager savings would often require his housekeeper to share his bed.

Nevertheless, his display of true devotion earned him no extra favor in Purr’s estimation.

In fact, Purr had already grown despondent regarding this family:

The old patriarch was a hopeless romantic;

The current patriarch was consumed by artistic creation, abandoning his own family’s faith system to worship a heresy;

The eldest son was fiercely bound by honor and blunt by nature; while the second son was a martial fanatic, who had not hesitated to turn himself into a cripple merely to follow in the footsteps of their first ancestor.

In a certain sense, none of them could be considered bad people, and they even possessed admirable merits, yet not a single one was suited to manage businesses or lead the family's resurgence.

Mike had intended to wheel himself away, but he noticed his younger brother giving him a meaningful look before helping their father into the room.

Though he did not understand its meaning, Mike followed them inside anyway.

"Snap!"

Once the three of them, father and sons, entered the room, Alfred turned on the light, and the once-dim bedroom instantly became brightly lit.

The portrait of the black cat that originally hung in the study was now placed right in the center of the room.

Beside the portrait stood a chair, upon which sat a living black cat, dressed exactly like the one in the painting.

"This..."

Old Anderson looked at the scene with some confusion.

"Isn't this the black cat brought by Young Master Garen? This is inappropriate, it is inappropriate to do this."

In Old Anderson's view, this was Garen's pet putting on an "imitation show";

to even take down the portrait of the First Ancestor from the study for a comparative arrangement was already a great disrespect to the ancestors of the Allen family.

Yet Old Anderson suppressed his anger, and even toward this black cat and Young Master Garen's manservant standing in the room, he did not speak any harsh words, only repeating "inappropriate" a few times.

Mr. Bede scrutinized the black cat intently; he was an excellent painter, so his perspective on oil paintings differed from others. While oil paintings often only conveyed the spirit, certain details were deliberately preserved.

Before this, Mr. Bede had felt the black cat looked somewhat familiar, and now, actually putting the two together for a careful observation, he discovered that the cat in the painting and the one in reality matched with astonishing precision in their details!

Mike bit his lip, wanting to curse, but held back, merely turning his head to look at Alfred:

"Mr. Alfred, what is the meaning of this?"

In the next instant,

Old Anderson and Mike both opened their mouths in astonishment, and even Bede's face showed a look of utter amazement;

for this black cat sitting on the chair actually opened its mouth to speak;

it said:

"You really are a bunch of completely worthless descendants;

now,

you have finally succeeded in waking your ancestors up with anger!"

...

The sky gradually darkened;

Allen Castle, the master bedroom on the third floor.

The Queen sat by the edge of the bed, completely stripped of her clothes;

at this moment, she resembled a withered, dehydrated old ear of corn.

If that face could still be slightly concealed, the other parts of her body covered beneath her garments were already somewhat unbearable to look at, like plastic bags fastened together with a stapler.

The old maidservant held a water cup and, using a small cloth, carefully wiped Her Majesty's body; when rinsing, she would squeeze the cloth inside the cup before continuing to wipe.

After wiping the entire body, the old maidservant squeezed all the water from the cloth into this small cup, then proffered the cup to the Queen, who opened her mouth and drank this cup of her own bathwater.

The old maidservant's expression remained unchanged, evidently long accustomed to such things.

After the Queen finished drinking, she prepared to help the Queen dress, but was pushed away by the Queen's outstretched hand.

"No clothes tonight."

The Queen stood up with some difficulty, and the old maidservant rushed to support her.

"It has been hard on you. Tonight, you will likely have to die."

"To sacrifice everything for Your Majesty is my honor."

"Mm."

The Queen walked over to the bedroom wall, where several chests were placed, containing the Queen's clothes and jewelry. Though the Queen certainly could not wear so much, let alone don so many pieces, necessary and sufficient preparations were a must; she was the symbol of the royal family and the nation, and her image allowed no room for error.

"Since ascending the throne, this is the first time I have felt so light. I mean, finally not having to wear such elaborate clothes or carry so many complex jewels.

Just thinking about this makes me feel very happy and relaxed."

"Your Majesty deserves everything, including... freedom."

"Yes, quite right, freedom."

The Queen raised her hand,

The old maidservant stepped forward and opened the exquisite chest in front of them; inside lay not clothes, but a young girl, sitting in the chest with a purple nail driven through her chest, pinning her to the inner wall.

Judia raised her head with some difficulty, looking at her legal great-grandmother standing outside the chest.

"My dear granddaughter, do not be afraid, and do not worry. Your grandmother merely felt that the rank of the family's faith system practitioners within the Allen estate was too low, and their numbers too few.

Though the conclusion researched by those old scholars in the family is that it only requires the bloodline of the Allen family as its blood-food, surely the higher the spirituality, the better the nourishment, is it not?

And so, your grandmother worried, what if it isn't enough?

Isn't this just perfect? You have awakened the Allen family faith system, and you are already at the third tier.

So this time, your grandmother brought you along.

Rest assured, if this estate is already sufficient, your grandmother will not harm you.

When your grandmother regains her youth and her freedom, I will hold your hand and take you horseback riding on the grass outside, alright?

Of course, if it is not enough, then your grandmother can only consume you. This is your contribution as a member of the Gloria family, for the family, for the royalty, for Wien, and for all the subjects of Wien. You should feel honored."

The Queen reached out, gently stroking Judia's face;

On Judia's face, there was no resentment, nor was there despair; instead, she bore a smile.

The Queen smiled too, saying: "That's more like it. Have you already felt that sense of honor?"

"Ye... s..."

The severely wounded Judia lifted her head:

"I have... already... felt... my blood... boiling..."

"Good, very good, this is what an excellent descendant of Gloria should be.

Your grandmother promises you that once your grandmother succeeds, your grandmother will arrange for you to become the next Queen Gloria; this is your grandmother's reward for your loyalty and devotion."

Having spoken, the Queen turned around, and the old maidservant helped her back to the bedside to sit down.

Meanwhile, Judia inside the chest revealed a ferocious grin.

"It is time," the Queen said.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The old maidservant took out a glass bottle containing a black seed with a tiny green sprout budding upon it. When the stopper was removed, a bizarrely fragrant scent rapidly diffused.

The Queen looked at this seed with a gaze of utmost reverence,

and let out a groan:

"Youth, freedom... I am coming!"

...

The dining room;

"That is enough. Place your hands here, and as I have just instructed, raise the bedroom's protective array to its highest tier. You will experience some distress, and you may spit up a bit of blood, but rest assured, it will not kill you."

"Yes, I understand. I shall give it my utmost effort, even unto death."

Old Anderson dared not show the slightest irreverence toward the black cat ancestor perched upon his shoulder; he pressed both palms against a silver plate, drawn from the corner of a cabinet and nearly bolted to the wall.

From his body, the aura of the family's system of faith began to surge, funneling entirely into the plate!

...

"Begin,"

Cullen commanded.

"Yes, Master Cullen." Seated in his wheelchair, Mike wheeled himself before the pirate ship tombstone, slit his palm with a dagger, and let the blood begin to drip. Until Cullen called a halt, he would continue to squeeze the wound to keep the crimson flow constant.

Standing beside Cullen, Bede asked in a low voice, "May I... as well?" He wished to share the burden with his brother.

Cullen shook his head, replying, "Do you truly believe your ancestor would relish the scent of your blood?"

A bitter smile touched the corner of Bede's mouth, and he spoke no more.

"Alfred."

"Yes, Master!"

Alfred rose from the center of a prepared circle, his eyes flushing crimson; simultaneously, the ring beneath his feet gradually manifested a deep black hue, steadily expanding outward.

"Primary... Rendering!"

"Woof!"

The golden retriever lept onto the very peak of the pirate ship tombstone at that moment, inserting an ace of spades held in its jaws right into the position of the pirate ship's flagpole—an indispensable part of the ritual!

Cullen stepped forward, taking his place before the pirate ship tombstone.

He closed his eyes, and in that instant, gave the illusion that the surrounding winds had fallen utterly still;

Beneath his feet, dark chains materialized one after another, rendered sharper and more distinct under the reinforcement of Alfred's array;

He began to chant:

"O King of the Pirates who once galloped across the great seas, proud wanderer in the history of the Allen family;

With the blood of your descendants as a guide, I fulfill the covenant made with you of old;

Granting you the opportunity to descend once more and open your eyes,

That you may witness with your own gaze the current might and prosperity of the Allen family, and behold the descendants who shall make you swell with pride and honor!

Order—Awaken!"