Chapter 127: Karen's... Family Belief System!

Chapter 127: Karen’s... Family Belief System!

Karen extended his hand, pressing it down gently to signal the old man to quiet down.

The old man spoke no more, merely watching Karen in silence.

He understood well enough the profound significance of these three fundamental stages of the Orthodox Church;

The Divine Servant marked a purification of the self; the Divine Awakening was the listening to divine instruction; and the Divine Shepherd was the act of inviting the image of God into one's own heart, allowing the deity to guide one’s steps and illuminate the path ahead.

It was the most basic stage, yet simultaneously a critically vital one; it was fair to say that a priest’s future prospects and upper limits could be roughly discerned at this very juncture.

God was like a parent, supporting you as you learned to walk, teaching you anew how to perceive this world.

The transition through each stage was, in truth, an act of reviewing and examining one’s own past, for the past remained clearly visible, and only by scrutinizing it afresh could the future be better clarified.

Yet, what shocked the old man was that this young man before him had just committed blasphemy in his presence, so how could he, in the blink of an eye, begin the "Divine Shepherd" stage?

You doubt God and abandon God,

So how could God possibly remain in your heart?

Or perhaps,

When you clearly already doubt and abandon God, how can you invite God in once more?

In truth, the answer was exceedingly simple;

If Karen’s purification stage as a Divine Servant had been a bit noisy, it had at least remained within the framework of proper procedure;

Then, from the subsequent Divine Awakening onward, Karen had actually embarked upon a path that belonged to him alone and suited him perfectly.

The Divine Awakening merely established a goal, a direction; the Divine Shepherd now was the filling of his own courage and hope.

Having a grand, towering figure standing ahead certainly provided a sense of peace, but on the path Karen intended to tread, he himself would be the one standing at the very front;

He had no silhouette to look up to; those behind him could only look upon his back.

At this moment, within Karen’s consciousness, the old man appeared, his body carrying an ethereal quality; he was not alive, nor a clone, nor a puppet, but was enveloped in a white radiance—or rather, he was entirely composed of this cluster of light.

Puer, Kevin, and Alfred had all inspected the house thoroughly and found nothing amiss;

For this old man was truly nothing more than a remnant of past thought, left behind because the former master of the house had read and pondered here, leaving the traces of his mind within this study;

Thus, putting aside the risk of this "old man" leading one astray, he was actually harmless, possessing no ability whatsoever to do anything.

Within Karen’s consciousness, the figure of Puer emerged.

The black cat stood there, its fur distinctly black, yet deep within that darkness lay a hidden hint of dark red, like a fire suppressed to the absolute limit.

Puer was the inheritor of the fire attribute in the Allen family's belief system, so this color came as no surprise.

Immediately following, the golden retriever appeared in Karen’s consciousness;

The retriever stood there as well, its body radiating a gentle, milky-white luster alongside a mass of black shadow; the two were neither mutually exclusive nor antagonistic, but rather co-mingled continuously, blending entirely one moment and gradually parting the next, only to merge once more after a period of separation, neither side showing any intent to conflict, having instead found the most suitable posture for each other.

Subsequently,

Alfred’s figure appeared within Karen’s consciousness, a red glow shimmering in his eyes, yet upon his body flowed a faint purple thread, trailing down to the top of his foot and extending beyond it, stretching all the way toward Karen’s "line of sight" until it connected to Karen himself.

Karen could clearly perceive the faith and adoration directed toward him from Alfred.

As the object of this adoration, Karen found the phenomenon quite bizarre, for even he could not fathom how on earth Alfred managed to do it!

Right now, Karen felt as though he were a single point, expanding his field of vision step by step, re-examining every individual he had ever encountered.

In reality, these were merely the versions of them stored in his memory; these lusters and colors had not been absent before, but had always existed, at least up to the very last moment Karen had seen them, though he had been unable to perceive them back then.

It was just like an aphorism;

When you are very young and first learn to read, you can recite it, you can understand it—or at least, you think you understand it.

But as you grow older and look at the phrase again, a different flavor emerges;

When you reach adulthood, middle age, and old age, after you have experienced things and weathered storms, every single time you look at that phrase, it offers a different realization and reward.

The aphorism itself has not changed a single character over all these years, but you have changed.

Life is often compared to a road, so people subconsciously project the path of life onto some street they have walked in reality, flanked by all manner of people and the mottled light of trees.

In reality, when you halt your steps, the road stops too; but on the road of life, when you halt your steps, you discover to your astonishment that the path beneath your feet continues forward, independent of your will and your actions.

Sitting in his chair, Karen raised his hand, gently massaging the space between his brows, his expression showing no pain, but rather deep immersion.

The reflection and discovery brought about by this self-examination felt remarkably comfortable, even somewhat intoxicating.

He saw Eunice, Borg, Judia, and the various people of the Allen Manor;

He saw the white light upon Miss Bertha, which shared many similarities with the old man before him;

He saw Little John, a crimson shadow swirling around the position of his heart, the very source of his pollution;

He saw Mr. Pavarotti, that balding, unkempt middle-aged man, around whom a remarkably pure darkness flowed.

He saw Mr. Hoffen, and Mrs. Molly,

Yet alone,

Karen did not look at his grandfather.

Not because he could not, but because he was unwilling;

Deep down, Karen wished to preserve the most beautiful memories of his grandfather, waiting until the day arrived when he would return home, look upon him with his own eyes, and awaken him once more.

For Dis was not a mere point in his memory, but a part of his past itself.

...

From the old man’s perspective, a black mist was continuously emanating from around Karen at this moment, rolling and transforming into a black, liquid-like substance before sinking back into Karen's body—a continuous cycle.

The trouble was, this cycle was lasting far too long.

Just as Mr. Bed had felt during Karen’s previous Divine Awakening, the old man was now beginning to feel astonished by Karen’s "depth." What sort of terrifying accumulation must this be to continue until now without any sign of stopping?

Puer had once given Karen a very down-to-earth analogy: when everyone scores a hundred points, for Karen, it is merely because the exam paper only goes up to a hundred points;

An accumulation that vastly exceeded that of ordinary people would bound to yield an extraordinary manifestation at specific moments.

As for Karen himself, he had already grown somewhat accustomed to this sensation.

He continued to select individuals from his past memories to examine, constantly exploring those special traits he had previously seen but failed to notice.

Such an opportunity was exceedingly rare; just as an ordinary priest’s true chance to receive divine instruction occurred almost exclusively during the Divine Awakening, this self-examination of the Divine Shepherd could only yield its best results within this brief window.

Finally,

Karen finished reviewing his memories, yet he still felt a lingering desire for more, the fundamental reason being that he still possessed residual strength.

...

Is it about to end, is it finally about to end?

The old man lamented in his heart;

To what sort of person had he actually sold his house?

Regrettably, his existence was confined entirely to this study, or rather, limited solely to his "contact" with Karen; from anyone else’s perspective, he did not exist at all, just as he did not from the perspective of his actual self in reality.

"I can only hope that the version of me who sold the house decides to come back and take a look," the old man thought to himself.

Hmm?

What is this?

The old man saw a figure emerge behind Cullen—a mere phantom that radiated no tangible aura, yet anyone who looked upon her could sense her presence.

It was a woman;

The old man finally understood: "He is observing... scrutinizing his own guide?"

Cullen was like someone who had just finished a masterful work and, still craving more, had begun reading its side stories.

Seeking out existences bound by some special connection, only to re-examine and understand them anew.

A guide shared exactly that kind of relationship; in the mundane world, a priest who baptizes an infant belongs to this category, while within the church circles, it referred strictly to the person who ushered you into this realm—specifically, the one who guided you through your purification.

Undeniably, Cullen's guide was Purr, or rather... Purr Allen.

The silhouette behind him gradually grew distinct; this woman wore a wide-brimmed black hat, a scarlet ceremonial gown, and enchanted boots encrusted with glittering gems, while her hand clasped a violet wand.

Huu...

The old man exhaled a long, slow breath,

He could feel that this was an immensely powerful entity, someone whose very existence could be considered the zenith of a family's belief system;

For behind the woman, a cluster of nether-fire flickered incessantly, and an existence capable of manipulating nether-fire possessed a terrifying mastery over the element of flame.

Rising from his chair, the old man bowed to the woman's visage in a display of profound respect.

Though she appeared remarkably young... the path of cultivation was never measured by mere age; besides, the old man suspected this woman might not actually be younger than him, and could very well be vastly older.

What the old man did not know was that the physical body of this powerful woman was currently fast asleep on the bed in the opposite bedroom, her feline mouth smacking occasionally and her whiskers twitching, as if she were dreaming of feasting on sweet and sour mandarin fish.

Yet from Cullen's perspective,

He beheld a completely different scene,

In this vision, he seemed to be a painter capturing the likeness of the noble existence before him; she sat upon the chair, transforming one moment into a dignified noble lady, and the next into a proud, aloof black cat;

This left him, the artist, drenched in cold sweat, forcing him to press on with a trepidatious heart.

As he painted,

Cullen discovered that the floor beneath his feet had turned to magma, and this terrifying, churning breath of consumption and incineration burst forth like sudden volcanic ash, not only clogging his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, but also annihilating his very consciousness and senses.

He began to claw frantically at his eyes and dig at his ears, desperate to see and hear once more;

In the haze, he felt a strange sensation, as if some specific, ancient power were guarding against and thwarting his "scrutiny"—or perhaps, his "spying."

His eyes remained completely blind, yet next to his ear, he heard a woman's voice, exceedingly proud and dissatisfied.

"Sigh, why did I ever choose to believe in you, Primordial Ancestor? I truly never imagined your achievements would be so limited. Had I known, I would have found some regular church to believe in; anything would be better than being this young yet already having no room left to grow.

What is the point of a life like this;

Heh,

I might as well just go be a cat."

With that, the voice cut off abruptly.

Just as Cullen thought it had all come to an end,

Suddenly,

A burst of light exploded, instantly scattering every obstacle before him and enveloping his entire being in its luminescence.

At that moment, Cullen was like a moth pressed flat against a burning lightbulb, somewhat dazed and rather awkward.

The old man, seeing a halo manifest behind Cullen, gasped in sheer astonishment:

"He... he... he was a believer of the God of Light all along?"

The old man placed both hands over his chest,

And intoned with utmost sincerity:

"Praise the Light."

The appearance of the Light was not entirely unexpected; Purr was indeed Cullen's guide, but the "holy relic" she had utilized was none other than a finger of the God of Light.

Before long, the Light dissipated, and with it, the visage of Purr vanished as well.

Cullen showed symptoms of severe mental exhaustion;

The old man pushed himself up from the floor, his gaze softening as he looked at Cullen; though the youth was heterodox, though he spoke without filter, and though he possessed all manner of flaws, he was ultimately one of their own.

Nevertheless, it should be over now.

Not only did the old man believe this, but Cullen himself felt the same way.

He could tell his "scrutiny" had lasted a long time, and he had witnessed many vistas he had previously overlooked; therefore, it was time to conclude, after which he could enjoy a deep, proper sleep.

Thus, Cullen actively brought the process of the "Divine Shepherding" to a close, and the sequence ceased in accordance with his will.

Yet, when he attempted to awaken and open his eyes, he found himself utterly unable to do so.

An invisible force was suppressing his reflexes, preventing him from opening his eyes or rising; this force did not originate from the outside world, but from deep within his own body.

The Divine Shepherding had ended, but the "scrutiny" had not.

Since you have already scrutinized others, how could you omit the scrutiny of yourself?

One could say the Divine Shepherding was merely a catalyst, a fishhook cast into the depths; it had caught a fish, but the line had dragged back a massive tangle of water weeds along with it.

A gray shadow materialized before Cullen, staring down at him with an icy gaze.

From this shadow, the old man perceived a freezing, horrific aura—just what kind of existence was this?

Even though the old man was no ordinary remnant of the Light, he still could not bring himself to associate the gray figure before him with an "Evil God," for the existence of an Evil God was far too mysterious and far too distant.

Yet Cullen's physical vessel had, in fact, been thoroughly reconstructed by an Evil God;

This was a body the Evil God had modified for his own eventual use, only for Cullen to usurp his place, reducing him to nothing more than a dog.

Finally,

The silhouette of Ranyedal faded away, his brief appearance seemingly serving no purpose other than to prove he had been there.

In the dog bed inside the opposite bedroom, the golden retriever rolled over and continued his deep slumber, completely unaware that his visage had been dragged out once more in the study across the hall to be thoroughly desecrated.

The old man was already somewhat stupefied; because he was merely a fragment of an ideological imprint, this successive chain of spectacles was beginning to distort his very consciousness;

He now felt that his living counterpart in the real world—the one who had sold the house—had best never return home for a visit, because there was no telling what miserable end that real-world self would meet upon encountering this unfathomable young man.

However,

This was still not the end...

Well, the old man was no longer capable of surprise; he even found it somewhat to be expected—fine, fine, proceed, proceed.

Cullen's Divine Shepherding had eschewed invoking a deity, choosing instead to place himself upon the pedestal where a god was originally meant to stand within his heart.

This was not a simple distinction between the idealistic and the materialistic, nor was it a pure contrast between "praising" and "mocking" a god;

It did not mean that adhering to materialism would grant one preferential treatment, much less that blindly criticizing a god would earn one special favor from the divine;

A subjective consciousness detached from the foundations of reality had already lost all inherent meaning.

It is much like a wealthy man saying he does not care for money versus a beggar on the street saying the same; the impression they leave is entirely different.

After all, no matter how a beggar mimics the tone of a rich man to declare his indifference to wealth, he can never truly possess the fortune of the rich man.

Take Kaelen, for instance.

He dared to use a dialectical method to deliberate upon the path of the gods, while simultaneously stepping from divine servant to divine revelation, and from divine revelation to divine shepherd; at its core, this was because he had long held the qualification to stand upon this path.

This world has never lacked for thinkers, nor has it ever lacked for skeptics, much less truly brilliant minds.

Yet the crux of the matter lay in this:

None of them possessed the sublime advantages that Kaelen did.

As it stood now,

Certain things flowing within his very lineage began to manifest.

Behind Kaelen's form,

The silhouette of an old man emerged; though advanced in years, his spine remained unyieldingly straight.

When Diss used the blood sacrifice ritual to extract the spirituality from the veins of the latter-day descendants of Inmerice, it meant that Kaelen was the sole remaining vessel of the Inmerice bloodline.

One might even understand it, perhaps somewhat loosely, in this way:

This grandfather and grandson duo of the Inmerice house could well be called a fresh dawn—a new beginning formed after purging the weeds and impurities, and severing all ties with the Church.

Perhaps in all this world, only this grandfather and grandson could have achieved such a feat.

The elder remnant of the Light collapsed back into his chair.

If the preceding scenes had merely caused this brand of his consciousness to warp and distort,

Then,

The vision now unfolding before his eyes could almost be said to have shattered his understanding.

For,

From a cleric who had only just ascended to become a divine shepherd,

He actually beheld:

A family faith system!