Chapter 105: Here It Comes, Baby!

Chapter 105: Here It Comes, Baby!

After Cullen finished his incantation, the chains appearing beneath his feet began to deliberately encircle the pirate ship tombstone, greater in number and far more orderly than before.

During their last meeting, Count Recar had told Cullen that although the Church of Order excelled in the arts of "Awakening," awakening an existence of his caliber would require at least the Archbishop of York City, and even then, only at an immense cost.

This was why Count Recar used honorifics with Cullen, and also why he felt the Allen family's current momentum was exceptionally promising.

For the Church—especially an orthodox grand church—truly looked down upon family belief systems; the status of the Church of Order needed no elaboration, and now that a York City-level Archbishop from the Church of Order had become a son-in-law of their own family, was that not the ultimate proof of a thriving clan?

Only when you are powerful enough will those who consider themselves noble and aloof hold their noses and willingly associate with you.

Cullen had also gathered a great deal of useful information during his last conversation with Count Recar; he had always known he possessed a unique ability to awaken corpses, which had nothing to do with his own "realm," as he had not even completed his purification at the time.

Therefore, if the Church of Order's "Awakening" was a high-level transformation of energy, using incantations as a medium to resonate with the spiritual power inside a corpse...

Then he himself, by virtue of his "resurrection from the dead," did not need such a medium; he could directly resonate with the residual spiritual power within the corpse.

To use an imperfect metaphor, the corpse was a cage, and the spiritual energy was locked inside;

The Church of Order possessed the method to unlock the cage, but the cost was staggering because the cage’s durability varied depending on the level of the corpse;

Cullen suffered from no such confinement; he could step directly inside the cage, but igniting the spiritual energy within required sufficient torches and fuel, so even if Cullen could bypass the greatest cost, it was impossible to yield something for nothing.

Fortunately,

He had now undergone purification.

As for God's Revelation... in truth, Cullen himself did not even know whether he could currently be considered a recipient of Revelation.

Because he had rejected the divine revelation, and because his degree of purification completion was simply too high, leaving his foundation extraordinarily robust, the boundary between Revelation and Purification had already been blurred.

Yet one thing was certain: having already attained the ability to hurl the "Spear of Punishment," the amount of kindling his body could carry was vastly more abundant than before.

Most importantly,

Count Recar was simply too arrogant and overbearing.

Last time, it was Count Recar himself who had actively dragged Cullen into the fold;

In Cullen’s perception, Count Recar belonged to that category of... highly flammable temperaments.

This time was no exception.

Not long after Cullen completed the summons, the same suction force as before manifested beneath the tombstone once again, dragging all the black chains surrounding Cullen down into the earth.

"Is it to be... a total awakening... Lord Archbishop?"

Within Cullen’s sea of consciousness came the voice of Count Recar, who still addressed him as "Lord Archbishop."

This meant their last "face-to-face exchange" had been recorded by the spiritual energy inside the corpse, becoming a piece of his memory.

Taking a deep breath, Cullen responded firmly in his mind:

"Yes."

"Very... well..."

"Hum! Hum! Hum! Hum!"

Cullen watched as the black chains surfacing beneath his feet were pulled under the tombstone at an utterly staggering speed; at this moment, he felt like a silkworm having its silk frantically unraveled by someone else.

An surge of anxiety quickly rose in Cullen's heart; he was truly terrified that a fully awakened Count Recar would completely drain him dry, yet stopping now was clearly impossible, leaving him only to pray that his reserves would suffice.

Alfred, who was holding up the "Rendering Array" nearby, shared the exact same sensation; his rendering array was essentially powered by his own strength, and now, he could feel the energy within his body being frantically drawn out, transformed through the array to bear the burden for his young master.

The golden retriever crouched beside them, observing the scene intently, glancing between Cullen and the ground beneath the tombstone.

Mace continued to squeeze his wound, letting blood drip onto the tombstone; Cullen could no longer afford the distraction to tell him to stop, so he resolutely carried on.

The impending "Awakening" of a once-mighty ancestor—this sense of awe was enough to make the blood of any descendant boil;

Even Mr. Bed's eyes were filled with intense excitement; he deeply regretted not bringing his easel along, for he felt an overwhelming urge to paint right now, and losing control of his emotions, his hands began to move involuntarily as if holding a brush and palette before a blank canvas.

Finally, that sensation of his brain being vacuumed out struck once more, and Cullen began to lose his balance.

However, right at that moment, the chains beneath his feet ceased their infusion and shifted from black to red; in the mystical haze, a distinct feeling surfaced in his heart:

A node had been reached.

It was a strange feeling, one difficult to describe why it appeared, yet it gave an extraordinarily vivid illusion of "you are mastering all of this."

Red signified that the conditions for Count Recar's awakening had been met, though more could still be funneled inside.

Only Cullen no longer possessed the strength to continue the infusion;

Cullen recalled that when Grandfather "awakened" Mr. Hoffen, he had actively provided Mr. Hoffen with extra power, allowing him to maintain clarity for nearly three days afterward; though Mr. Hoffen still perished in the end, the quality of that "Awakening" was entirely different.

So

Cullen could not help but recall the Terracotta Army he had seen in his past life, remembering how those clay warriors had been vibrant with color when first unearthed.

So,

In future summonings, would he not only have to open the crypt in advance but also apply an anti-oxidation treatment to the corpse?

After all, whether it was the deceased themselves or their descendants, everyone would presumably prefer to see a more humanlike visage.

Finally,

A hulking figure clad in a pirate’s garb emerged fully upon the earth, a testament to the fact that this peerlessly unyielding ancestor in the annals of the Allen family had been buried in nothing less than a corsair's raiment.

His skin was blackened, parched and clinging tightly to the underlying bone, exuding a dense, stifling aura of death, though he remained in better condition than a mere withered mummy.

He opened his eyes; at first, the sunken sockets revealed only a stark, pupil-less white, but soon, a brilliant blue luminescence began to radiate from within the rims as he commenced his inspection of this world.

Mick finally stanched the bleeding wound upon his palm, gazing at the entity before him with an expression fraught with profound reverence.

"Great Ancestor!"

Mick slid from his wheelchair onto the ground, offering his devotion in the most pious manner conceivable.

"Hiss... Hiss..."

Count Recar’s nostrils twitched as though drawing in a breath;

Cullen noticed a few faint crimson traces beneath the tip of the Count's nose, suggesting that the blood Mick had shed earlier had indeed been absorbed by him.

It appeared that employing the blood of a descendant as a catalyst did, in fact, exert a positive and active influence upon the summoning.

"Ah..."

Count Recar opened his mouth as if to speak, yet only a raspy hiss issued from his throat.

Much like the eyes, when one has been interred for so many years, numerous bodily organs cease to function normally and require a peculiar sort of substitution.

Before long,

A clear voice resonated from Count Recar's mouth:

"A little piece of trash from a collateral branch?"

With these words, Count Recar took a step forward, his knee directly striking and overturning Mick, who had been kneeling prostrate before him. Once knocked over, Mick immediately propped himself up with both hands to climb back up, offering his respects to the ancestor once more despite the loss of his legs.

A piece of trash from a collateral branch?

In truth, Count Recar’s mindset was perfectly comprehensible if one were to look at it through the lens of Purr.

Only to those with a profound adherence to the family’s belief system would such ancestors truly feel close, deeming them their genuine kin.

It was the same even now; Borg had spent his childhood in a brothel, neglected by all, but the moment his lineage talent awakened through testing, he instantly gained the right to live and train within the Allen Manor.

In Count Recar's eyes, how could a descendant of the third order possibly belong to the direct line? He could only be a useless piece of refuse dragged out from a collateral branch to provide a blood meal.

And yet... Mick truly did belong to the direct line.

Cullen, however, hesitated and did not dare speak up to Count Recar.

Yet, he could not evade him. Count Recar extended a hand toward Cullen, and a sudden gust of wind whistled violently past Cullen’s ear; subsequently, Cullen discovered that Mr. Bede, who had been standing beside him, was now gripped in Count Recar’s hand.

Count Recar opened his mouth, extended his tongue, and gave Mr. Bede’s face a lick.

Cullen surmised that Count Recar must have detected the aura of the Order of the Wall upon Mr. Bede, for the latter, immersed in the emotional upheaval of the ancestor's "resurrection," had entirely failed to conceal his presence—an aura so palpable that even Cullen himself could perceive it, to say nothing of Count Recar.

After tasting Mr. Bede, Count Recar held him by the throat, pulling him slightly away as a pair of blue-lit eyes scrutinized Bede up and down.

Cullen grew deeply concerned that Count Recar might throttle Mr. Bede right then and there, given that Mr. Bede’s choice of faith was an act of rank rebellion.

To his surprise, however, Count Recar suddenly burst into a roaring laugh:

"Hahahahaha..."

His laughter was coarse and rugged, imbued with a harsh rasp owing to the condition of his vocal cords.

"Has the Allen family already begun attempting to infiltrate the forces of the Churches?"

With that, Count Recar loosened his grip, and Mr. Bede crumpled to the ground.

"Good, very good! This is exactly how a family at the pinnacle of the belief system ought to behave. Sooner or later, we shall trample all those high-and-mighty Churches beneath our feet!"

Count Recar’s gaze swept toward the golden retriever that had been sitting quietly, watching the spectacle;

His blue eyes shifted into a swirling vortex, and a matching vortex materialized beneath the golden retriever's paws.

"Woof!"

Devoid of fear, the golden retriever stood up and barked directly at Count Recar.

"This dog is unusual. It feels as though something is sealed within it—a presence so powerful that even I find it formidable."

The vortex beneath the retriever's paws dissolved into nothingness,

And Count Recar nodded with supreme satisfaction:

"Good, very good! The family today has grown so prosperous that even a mere dog is this extraordinary!"

Saying this,

Count Recar extended his hand once more, and a beam of blue light tore straight through Alfred’s defense, pinning him instantly to the spot.

Although Alfred had exhausted a vast amount of his strength to share his young master's burden earlier, he knew all too well that even at his peak, he would be no match for this Lord Count.

"I quite like your eyes, and as it happens, I find myself in need of a pair of eyes right now."

As Count Recar spoke, he reached out with his other hand. Simultaneously, a pair of hands fashioned from water vapor materialized before Alfred, their fingertips extending as they drew steadily closer to his eye sockets.

Cullen spoke up:

"Recar. He is my servant."

Cullen was certain that from the very moment this Lord Count had crawled out of his sepulcher, his attention had been fixed squarely upon him.

His previous actions toward Mick, Bede, and the golden retriever were merely a stall for time to allow him to think.

At this moment, Cullen’s body was largely depleted, yet under the premise that he deliberately concealed his nature and refrained from employing any divine servant powers, it would be difficult for an outsider to discern that he was a clergyman.

Thus, in the eyes of Count Recar at this present juncture, he likely appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary human.

This was well and good; it was far better than letting Count Recar discover he was a divine servant or an awakened soul. At the very least, the Count would probably rationalize it by assuming he was some hidden master in disguise.

And indeed, so it was.

Count Recar laughed:

"Hahaha, I merely wished to play a small jest upon him."

The moment the words fell, the restraints binding Alfred dissolved entirely, and Alfred regained his freedom.

Count Recar strode over to Cullen, a dense, musty odor of decay washing over them.

Cullen held his breath slightly, striving to maintain an air of absolute composure, and then extended his hand, pointing toward the distantly lit ancient castle.

Recar turned to look, the blue light swirling in his eyes softening considerably in an instant.

"To welcome your return, Her Majesty the Queen is currently waiting for you within the Patriarch's bedchamber."

"The Queen?" Count Recar inquired, a note of doubt in his voice.

"It is Gloria IX."

"Heh..."

Count Recar gently stroked his chin with the back of his hand.

"So many years have passed, yet the Gloria royalty remains as sensible as ever."

"This is a gift your descendants specially prepared for your awakening today."

"Truly... thoughtful descendants."

"Go on, Recar. I believe that right now, the young and beautiful Queen has already stripped her clothes and is lying in bed, awaiting the favor of the former Pirate King!"

Count Recar turned around, facing the ancient castle.

He took a step forward with his right foot, but suddenly paused.

Karen's eyelids twitched at this. He had not actually intended to deceive Count Recar, but ever since the Count awoke, he had been concocting his own delusions, which instead left Karen riding a tiger that was difficult to dismount.

Most importantly, the man was a... scumbag.

"Lord Bishop, if I simply go in like this, would it not be somewhat lacking in etiquette?"

"Hehehe."

Karen let out a chuckle,

And countered with a question:

"Since when does a pirate need to worry about etiquette?"

Hearing this, Count Recar nodded:

"True indeed."

Karen added:

"Keeping Her young and beautiful Majesty waiting too long is the real breach of etiquette."

"You are absolutely right, Lord Bishop."

"Please, indulge to your heart's content. Once you have had your fill, your clansmen will stand in formation, awaiting your review."

"Then... I shall go."

Plumes of water mist enveloped Count Recar's body.

Immediately following that,

His frame was lifted aloft, rushing straight toward the ancient castle ahead, directly toward the master bedroom on the third floor.

An arrogant, roaring laugh

Pierced the silence of the night:

"I am coming, my dear little darling of the Gloria family!"