Chapter 133: The Kill

Chapter 133 Slay

Pavaro, I am giving you one last chance. It is not too late to regret your choices now.

It is too late, for you already know all too well that I am not of your kind. Even if I were to declare my submission now, would you dare accept it?

Faith is the grandest thing in this world. It can bind together different genders, different regions, different ethnicities, different nations, and even different races, uniting them like family.

Yet, to those who once walked the same path, a betrayer of faith becomes the most utterly irreconcilable enemy in existence!

You misunderstand, Pavaro. My meaning was that if you take your own life now, we will spare your family.

Pavaro shook his head.

There is no need.

Can you truly bear to watch your family suffer the consequences of your stubbornness?

If I am gone, the blood-soul powder for my two daughters will no longer be supplied. The pollution within them will spiral out of control, and they will soon succumb to its overwhelming weight.

I know my wife well. She appears strong on the outside, but her heart is exceedingly fragile. Losing me, compounded by the loss of our daughters, will strip away her will to live, and she will choose death.

Therefore, your threat carries not a shred of meaning to me.

You could have received an ample supply of blood-soul powder every month. Your two daughters could have lived lives akin to normal human beings. All of this, you rejected yourself.

To uphold the dignity of order, the God of Order cast His own daughter into the jaws of a ferocious beast.

That is,

The light of order.

Regrettably,

There is no longer any light in your eyes.

Tyris raised the leather whip in his hand and commanded the four subordinates beside him:

Suppress him!

The four members of the Whip of Order instantly closed their eyes, pressing their hands to their chests as they began to chant. Dark walls manifested before them, transforming in an instant into an open cage that descended upon Pavaro.

The twin bursts of black fire within Pavaro's palms erupted instantly, yet they were directed not at his surroundings, but slammed into the ground before him. The resultant recoil propelled his figure backward, breaking free from the confines of the cage just before it could seal him completely.

Yet Tyris had already materialized behind him, a sneer gracing the corners of his mouth.

Still thinking of escape.

The leather whip cracked against Pavaro's back, unleashing a barrage of explosive snaps alongside a dense flurry of flying sparks. Immediately following the strike, the whip wound tightly around Pavaro's waist.

Order—Incinor Curse!

Array upon array of black runes materialized across Pavaro's skin, creeping upward along the length of the whip.

Just before the runes could make contact with the hand holding the weapon, Tyris hesitated, ultimately choosing to release his grip.

For this was a curse invoked at the cost of one's own life force. Once the runes established a connection with the target, Pavaro would perish instantly, but his curse would also take effect.

Tyris would not be killed by it, of course, but purging it completely would prove immensely difficult, and it might well plague him for the remainder of his days.

Freed from the restraint, Pavaro was suffering the backlash of his interrupted spell, yet he could not afford to care. Slapping his hands onto the ground, a black astral crest appeared:

Order—Forest of Black Mist!

The dark fog surged outward in an instant, shrouding Pavaro's form.

The four members of the Whip of Order formed their array once more, resuming their chants. Waves of power capable of cleansing all illusions and concealments rapidly washed over the dark fog, forcing Pavaro, who had just managed to conceal himself, to manifest once again.

Tyris caught sight of Pavaro, clawing downward with one hand before thrusting it upward.

In a flash,

A black vine erupted from the earth, its razor-sharp tip piercing straight through Pavaro.

Unable to dodge in time, Pavaro's left shoulder was impaled by the vine. As it continued to grow, he was hoisted bodily into the air.

The four cloaked figures abandoned their array, though their chanting persisted. Daggers materialized in their hands, and a dark, gleaming shroud of protection enveloped their forms as if they had received a divine blessing. They charged directly into the mist that had not yet fully dissipated, intent on executing the impaled and bound Pavaro.

Furthermore, they intended to destroy the vessel entirely, utterly obliterating any lingering fragments of spirituality.

However, at that very moment, the leading cloaked figure suddenly felt his foot step upon shards of shattered glass, and watched in bewilderment as a faint, greenish vapor began to diffuse through the air.

Suspended in midair by the vine, Pavaro smiled.

This is the concentrated essence of the pollution source I extracted from my two daughters. It is a toxin capable of corroding the soul, and it was scattered into the mist long ago.

Upon hearing this, the four cloaked figures halted in their tracks instantly, sealing their own bodies while chanting to perform a self-purification.

The toxin was not actually as terrifying as they imagined. Pavaro's daughters were in their current state because their treatment had been delayed after the initial pollution. For a clergyman, as long as it was dealt with in a timely manner, the issue would essentially cease to exist. In theory, they could have even postponed the detoxification until after slaying Pavaro, given the ample amount of time available.

In truth, each of the four cloaked figures assumed their companions would step forward to slay the target while they paused to neutralize the poison. Embarrassingly, every single one of them shared the exact same thought.

Following this brief pause, they then assumed their companions would cease their purification to strike down the target, allowing themselves to continue the detoxification. More embarrassingly still, they all thought the same thing yet again.

Thus, the four members of the Whip of Order stood frozen in place, bathed in the soft, dark light of their purifications. Instead of executing the kill, they left Pavaro hanging there entirely unattended.

Pavaro found nothing strange in this spectacle. How could men who had lost their faith ever view death as a return home?

In the next instant,

Pavaro slapped his hand against the black vine pinning him, intending to sever it with the flames emanating from his palm.

Tyris clawed downward once more and thrust upward. A second vine erupted from the earth, driving toward Pavaro.

With no time to dodge, Pavaro forced his own body downward, gaining his freedom at the cost of tearing his wound open wider. He dropped to the ground, narrowly evading the pierce of the second vine.

Upon landing,

The left side of Pavaro's upper body was drenched in blood, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. He immediately pressed his right hand to his brow, and the black mist swirled around him once more as he drifted toward the distance.

Taking several strides forward, Tyris overtook the cloud of mist and declared in a deep voice:

Order—The Cage.

...

Woof. (This inquisitor is no good.)

Meow. (Compared to the inquisitor who sealed you, of course he falls short.)

Woof. (He follows the administrative branch; combat is his weakness.)

Meow. (True enough. What he has studied and mastered is primarily suited for the daily duties of an inquisitor.)

Woof. (Indeed. Those from the Whip of Order basically only master arts related to fighting.)

Meow, meow, meow. (Therefore, when choosing spells for Karen this time, we need to select more practical armor-enhancement magic. It can boost physical attributes and reaction times, which works wonders in situations like this. The Church of Order does have the Armor of Order, though its effects cannot rival the Light Armor of the Church of Light.)

Woof. (I have a better one I can teach.)

Meow? (Armor of the Evil God?)

Woof. (Not of my own creation. I know the Sea God's Armor, stolen in the past.)

Meow. (That is excellent. Karen's deep foundation can perfectly accommodate the fluid nature of the Sea God's Armor, allowing for continuous hydration.)

Woof, woof. (We still lack a close-quarters offensive spell. For low-to-mid-tier combat, that style is still the most effective. This inquisitor suffered precisely from this disadvantage, completely suppressed.)

Meow. (Blade of the Dark Moon?)

"Woof?" (The Dark Moon family's sorcery? You even know that?)

"Meow." (Back then, a foolish young master from that family wanted to court me and gave me this spell as a gift.)

"Woof." (And then?)

"Meow." (I accepted the gift, told him I was deeply moved, and then rejected him. He left quite heartbroken.)

"Woof." (No matter how powerful a family is, it's inevitable they'll breed such fools.)

"Meow." (The Blade of the Dark Moon paired with the Sea God's Armor—both are sorceries that heavily consume spirituality, but they happen to be perfect for Karen to use.)

"Woof, woof." (True. Besides, if he still can't win a fight with the two of us by his side, he wouldn't just be losing face for his grandfather; he'd be losing face for us first.)

"Meow." (Yet, what suits him best remains the orthodox sorcery of the Church of Order, though it must wait until he truly grows up to display its genuine effect.)

"Woof." (What suits him best, in truth, is... his own Knight of Order.)

"Meow, meow?" (This inquisitor is dying; wait, someone else is coming.)

...

The Cage of Order entrapped the black mist attempting to escape. As the mist dissipated, it revealed the figure of Pavaro within.

Tiers raised his arm and said in a deep voice,

"Spear of Punishment."

A Spear of Punishment hovered above his head, radiating an aura of destruction.

"It's over, Pavaro."

However, just before Tiers's arm swung forward, a ring of pink light suddenly rippled open before him, revealing the phantom of a woman within. She was chanting:

"God said: I shall choose to walk into the freezing sea, leaving the warmth to my sisters."

Seawater seemed to materialize from nothing, suspended in midair, enveloping Tiers and his entire surroundings.

Tiers did not panic much. He merely conjured three defensive walls around his body in silence, and then chose to detonate the Spear of Punishment right on the spot.

"Boom!"

Tiers dropped back to the ground. The prior explosion left his consciousness somewhat dizzy, but his body had escaped harm thanks to the preemptive defenses, and the barrier that had attempted to trap him was now shattered.

Yet, Pavaro was already nowhere to be seen ahead.

Four black-robed figures arrived behind Tiers. He cast a glance over them, and just as he was about to reprimand them, the words Pavaro had spoken earlier suddenly surfaced in his mind: "We are not the same kind of people..."

"It's someone from the Church of Mils. His accomplice has appeared."

Tiers looked up, glancing at the moonlight tonight. Because it was raining, the moon was obscured deep within the clouds. Tonight was serene, save for the cats and dogs running across the distant eaves, bringing a trace of movement and vitality.

"Continue the pursuit."

"Yes, Captain."

...

"Annie, you shouldn't have come," Pavaro said. "The ones hunting me aren't just that group."

"I'm already here, so say something useful."

"My plan failed because the judge who tried me is the very person standing behind them."

"Is that useful to say now?"

"Put me down and leave York City directly. You still have a chance to live."

"More nonsense."

"I have no options left."

"In truth, you ran out of options long ago, starting from the moment you first chose to report this matter to your superiors."

"Yes."

"The wisest path would have been to leave York City and report to the districts of other nations, but that's unrealistic. Your investigation had already alarmed them. Besides, if you didn't investigate, what would you even have to report?"

"Annie, you're starting to talk nonsense too."

"The cathedral ahead belongs to the Church of the Abyss. I'll take you over there."

"It's useless. The Church of the Abyss wouldn't dare interfere in the internal affairs of the Church of Order."

"Why do I hear a touch of pride in your voice when you say that?"

"Is there?"

"There is. Besides, what was your purpose in escaping? Do you have any other way?"

"The reason was simply wanting to try and break out, to seek an opportunity to report to a foreign district."

"You admitted yourself just a moment ago that such a reason is nonsense."

"The real reason, perhaps, is just not wanting to sit there and wait for death in vain. Even if coming out means certain death, death might also be a form of release. So, you shouldn't have come out. I'm sorry, Annie."

"I have a premonition that our time is short, so I want to say something useful."

"Go ahead."

"I have already handed our investigative notes to the person you arranged to come over."

"The person I arranged to come over?"

"Yes, a very handsome young man."

"Oh, him. He wasn't arranged by me, but I know he is no ordinary person. I still owe him thanks for his lighter."

"It doesn't matter anymore. At least we know that after we die, there is still someone continuing the investigation. Even if the hope is faint, at least a shred of it remains."

"You're right."

The cathedral of the Church of the Abyss lay just ahead, separated by an inner-city river spanned by a pedestrian bridge.

Annie supported Pavaro as they made their way onto the bridge. Upon reaching the center, a figure dressed in a black uniform appeared ahead. The uniform was emblazoned with black lightning and the many fierce beasts sealed and suppressed by the Church of Order throughout history;

This was... the Adjudication Robe.

Pavaro spoke, "Lord Adjudicator Luke."

Luke raised his hand, and a black sword materialized within his grasp;

His raspy voice followed:

"Is your accomplice this believer of the Church of Mils?"

Annie smiled and said,

"Yes, I work at a pastry shop. Because I'm getting old, while others charge forty Reals, I only charge twenty. Even so, my business isn't particularly good, and I can only rely on helping to clean the shop to earn a bit of extra income.

Lord Adjudicator, have you ever been to a pastry shop?

We are half a soul, you know. Aside from the most direct entry, services by any other means are open for negotiation."

"Heh."

Luke let out a soft laugh, and the sword in his hand began to float.

Pavalor spoke up, "What are you thinking, Annie? How could the Lord Inquisitor possibly go to a place like yours? The Lord Inquisitor would find it low, would feel it beneath his status."

Annie nodded and said, "Indeed, I carelessly offended this lord. Oh my, our place is dirty, but the question is, why would the clean Lord Inquisitor appear here and block our path?"

Pavalor said, "Because the Lord Inquisitor himself is actually even filthier. Your bit of dirt, to the lord, is so clean it would practically trigger his obsession with cleanliness."

"Pavalor, do you know why I came out, even though I knew that without a doubt I would be marching to death right along with you?

Because I am different from you. I have always felt that within the pitch-black interior of the Church of Order, nothing but filth is hidden.

Until I met you."

"Rest assured, Order will adjudge them," Pavalor said, his gaze resolute. "I firmly believe it."

Luke did not speak much,

instead saying in a deep voice:

"Order—Sword of Judgment!"

That black sword instantly split into streak after streak of sword shadows.

Pavalor placed his hand over his chest and chanted:

"By my absolute loyalty, I recite Your great name, praying that at this moment, You open Your eyes and let Your gaze descend upon the world;

Forbidden—Eye of Order!"

A black vortex appeared behind Pavalor, and deep within it, a tightly closed eye could be faintly seen.

This scene had also occurred in the performance hall of the Allen Manor, but it had been much clearer than it was now, and the Eye of Order had been just a hair's breadth away from opening.

Luke was not flustered in the slightest, and even deliberately paused for a moment, waiting until the vortex behind Pavalor slowly dissipated once more...

Pavalor fell completely to his knees on the ground, blood continuously spilling from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.

Even before he was injured, a forbidden spell of this level was something he absolutely could not complete, let alone now.

"Pavalor, you really are an idiot."

Kneeling on the ground, his voice already indistinct as he spoke, Pavalor could only say:

"I just wanted to hope for a miracle, and while I'm at it, leave no regrets."

Annie began to chant:

"God said: When this world is submerged by the sea, all filth shall also be buried deep beneath it!"

The water on both sides of the bridge was instantly drawn onto the bridge, turning into two massive barriers that were about to crash down toward Luke.

Luke's hand merely gave a gentle push forward;

streak after streak of sword shadows instantly pierced through that barrier, boring through Annie's body, and boring through Pavalor who was kneeling on the ground along with her.

Boreholes appeared across both of their bodies, and the aura of the Sword of Judgment, while destroying their physical flesh, was also strangling their souls.

This was a confrontation destined to have no possibility of a turnaround;

the moment Luke's figure appeared here, the outcome was already predetermined.

Because of Annie's death, the water curtain she had summoned lost its control, falling down and washing over the bridge surface.

A black aura ring appeared around Luke, shutting out the rushing water, not even wetting his clothes.

However, Annie and Pavalor's corpses were washed beneath the bridge by the current, drifting down along the river.

Luke reached out his hand, and a black chain emerged, but before he could throw the chain out to seize the corpses in the river, an elderly man's voice came from behind him:

"Years ago there was an agreement that the various churches would take a step back for the peace and stability of the world, for the Church of Order.

But now, the Church of Order has forced its way right up to the doorstep?"

Luke turned around, looking at the elderly man ahead who wore a robe of red and black colors.

"The Church of Order is purging apostates. If there has been any disturbance, please forgive us."

"Heh, so that's how it is. Originally I didn't intend to come out, but until I sensed the aura of a forbidden spell, I worried that if I didn't come out, this auditorium wouldn't be here when the sun rises.

Next time there is such a matter, I must trouble the Lord Inquisitor to send an official letter in advance and give a notice, if you please?"

"Of course."

"That is well." The elderly man turned and walked back into the auditorium. This was all he could say; nowadays, the Church of Order was just that dominant.

Luke then looked in the direction where the corpses had been washed away by the current, where the shadows of those two corpses could no longer be seen.

Tiers's figure appeared on the bridge, and he asked:

"Lord Inquisitor, where are those two people?"

"Dead."

Looking at Tiers, Luke's gaze showed an undisguised look of revulsion.

"Where are the corpses?"

"Fell into the river, drifted away."

"Why didn't the Lord Inquisitor bring the corpses..."

"The people, I have killed; the corpses, you find them."

"Hiss... all right then."

A cloud of black mist enveloped Luke, immediately scattering away.

"I really hate his aloof manner." Tiers turned his head to glance at his four subordinates behind him. "Still standing there motionless? Go and get the corpses back!"

...

On the distant riverbank, Purr sat on Kevin's back, while Kevin broke into a sprint, running desperately.

"Faster, faster, faster still, it's drifting right up ahead, right up ahead! Charge, meow!"

"Woof!"