Chapter 139: Pigsty

Chapter 139 The Pigsty

Mr. Bede's series of movements was utterly seamless, forcing one to suspect that he had done this many times before, until it had hardened into a habit.

Piaget licked his lips and murmured in wonder:

"Mr. Bede told me he has a daughter. I wonder if his future son-in-law would feel a chill in his heart if he saw this scene. He probably wouldn't dare abandon his wife for the rest of his life."

"..." Karen.

Karen turned his head to glance at Piaget, while Piaget looked back at Karen and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Heh."

Karen felt that Piaget must have guessed the relationship between himself and Mr. Bede, and was merely pretending not to know.

Mr. Bede walked back. The fighting was still raging above, so the three of them squatted back down into the corner of the wine cellar.

Karen squatted in the middle, Piaget to Karen's left, and Mr. Bede to Karen's right.

"How much longer will they fight?" Piaget asked.

"It won't be long. This is York City," Mr. Bede said.

Karen nodded.

Both opposing sides up there would be incredibly desperate to end the battle early, no matter by what means.

This was York City, the capital of Wien, one of the greatest metropolises in the world. Every major church maintained offices here with ample personnel, which naturally included the Church of Order.

The remnants of Light feared that if the stalemate continued, reinforcements from the Church of Order would arrive.

Yet the Order Inquisitors above were also worried that if the stalemate continued, their own reinforcements would arrive!

Karen kept chanting his opening prayer: "O great and supreme God of Order, O chains of Order that judge all things..."

...

Rayson sat inside the carriage, while the old butler stood outside the door keeping guard.

The violent explosions echoing from ahead and the thick, choking aura of faith that could be felt even here made it unmistakable how fierce the battle was at that location right now.

A look of heartache appeared on the old butler's face. He could not help but lean down and whisper:

"Eldest Master, our losses..."

The more fiercely they fought, the more members of the Raphael family would die. These people were the foundation of the family, the very support of their faction.

Rayson remained unmoved.

In the distant sky, a dark cloud appeared. Its emergence seemed exceptionally abrupt at this moment, because its presence was so conspicuous even against the pitch-black night.

The old butler's heart shook, and he immediately cried out:

"The Justiciar!"

Rayson tilted his head out of the carriage window, looking up at the dark cloud.

"Eldest Master, Lord Justiciar has made his move. The remnants of Light should be suppressed very soon."

Rayson thought nothing of it and said:

"If the remnants of Light were so easily suppressed, why would Lord Justiciar need to make a move?"

Saying this,

Rayson lifted his wrist to check the time.

"This means they can't drag it out any longer."

"Eldest Master!!!"

Rayson looked out the window again and saw a massive silhouette of light and shadow appear on the ground. At first, its shape was unclear, and it only seemed immense, but once it was slowly erected, he recognized it to be a glowing high tower.

"That is the Tower of Light, Eldest Master. This is a high-level spell within the Church of Light. Legend has it that in the dark lands of nothingness, as long as a Tower of Light is erected, it won't be long before that territory is purified by the Light."

As the Tower of Light rose, its spire pierced directly through the dark cloud above. A

Rook felt a touch of confusion; to deploy a wide-area effect spell when both sides were already engaged in combat seemed thoroughly ill-timed.

Immediately after,

Rook understood completely:

"He is sending out a warning signal!"

The light enveloping Helen and Vernon transformed into wings of flame, a fierce tenacity gleaming within the eyes of both.

Tiers took three steps back, not daring to meet their strike at such a moment.

Rook did the same;

The remaining members of the Order squad were even more hesitant; had the Arbiter not appeared in time, they might have been utterly broken by this Radiant Knight long ago. Though they clearly possessed the capability to counter and suppress him, they simply lacked the courage to face such a self-destructive, death-defying style of combat.

Helen and Vernon did not choose to press their attack either; instead, their figures floated upward, hurtling toward the Tower of Light.

Yet just as they drew near the high tower,

The mass of dark clouds in the sky suddenly descended like a hand, pressing directly against the structure, which instantly began to shudder violently.

Standing upon the roof with wand in hand, Elder Doak’s white hair whipped wildly about him as a roar echoed in his heart:

"Begone!"

This single word was not directed at the presence above, but rather at his two students.

The white radiance within the Tower of Light swept over them once more,

And subsequently, the two streaks of light broke away from the curtain of radiance, vanishing into the distance.

"Buzz!"

At that very instant, the power of the dark clouds intensified once more.

Blood began to seep from Elder Doak’s eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, while a series of sharp cracks echoed from deep within his body.

The Inquisitor atop the dark clouds was immensely powerful, yet Elder Doak was not without the strength to wage a battle against him; the only reason he had fallen into a disadvantage from the very start was that he was not looking to fight a duel right now.

When your church has already perished and the label of 'remnant' has been affixed to your brow, wishing to enjoy a satisfying battle becomes an utter luxury.

For Elder Doak knew well that while he might hold this Inquisitor at bay, he would stand absolutely no chance of victory once the reinforcements from the Church of the Order arrived.

He had erected this Tower of Light solely to broadcast a warning to the surroundings:

We have been exposed!

This Radiant Elder, whom Karen had once evaluated as a "reckless brute," had indeed always found the Divine Envoy, Miss Bertha, rather disagreeable, and had been exceedingly casual and unbridled in his personal conduct.

Yet at this defining moment, he truly shoulder his responsibility, choosing to fall directly into a disadvantage in the ensuing clash just to convey the message of approaching danger to his comrades.

"Boom!"

The black clouds pressed down once more, and the Tower of Light began to fracture.

Elder Doak gritted his teeth, straightening his bent knees once again as his body caught fire; the flames surged upward along the Tower of Light, enveloping the entire structure in a searing blaze within moments.

Meanwhile, several more masses of black clouds drifted in from the surrounding sky;

Below, the black whistle within Tiers’s breast pocket emitted a faint hum, signifying that other squads from the Whip of Order were currently converging on this location!

Rook pursed his lips and surveyed the surroundings, sensing the auras of the other Arbiters who were rushing over.

The first to arrive was the strength of the Church of the Order, but it was foreseeable that the forces of the other churches within York City would soon follow suit.

The dark clouds in the sky suddenly enveloped the high tower regardless of the flames, a scene that caused a look of stark astonishment to surface in Elder Doak's eyes.

He was destined to lose; he had never expected to win, nor did he even believe he could escape. All he wished to do now was buy time for the other believers within York City to evacuate;

The opponent was assured of victory, for their reinforcements had already arrived;

Why, then, would they force a strike at this moment, even at the cost of sustaining injuries themselves?

Another point Elder Doak could not fathom was why the Church of the Order was deploying reinforcements in separate batches; if they had already discovered them, why had they not concentrated their forces to strike from the very beginning?

However, none of this mattered anymore.

When the figure clad in the dark red divine robe appeared before him, Elder Doak merely let a smile touch the corners of his lips.

Ignoring how his own body was being violently scorched by the aura of light, the figure extended two fingers and tapped them against the center of Elder Doak's brow.

Yet in the breath just before, Elder Doak had completely ignited his own soul;

It was you who gave me this opportunity!

There was no explosion, for Elder Doak’s flesh and soul melted rapidly to form a sphere of light less than three meters in diameter. A mere explosion would look spectacular, but it would achieve no real effect against a true powerhouse;

Once condensed, however, it was entirely different.

There was no sound of a blast, only dissolution.

As the ring of light dissipated, only a single figure in a dark red divine robe remained in its place. The robe concealed his body, but in truth, from his chest to his thighs, it looked as though magma was churning within; white bone and internal organs lay completely exposed.

"Hunt down the Radiant remnants!"

His voice echoed from above, and then, his figure vanished.

Tiers and Rook immediately saluted to acknowledge the command, though a shadow of gloom surfaced in both of their eyes. Could this matter truly be kept a secret?

They could silence their own people like Pavaro, but they could never silence the Radiant remnants unless they managed to kill as many of them as possible before this point. Yet now, with the involvement of other forces within the Church, it seemed rather difficult.

"Lord Arbiter?" Tiers looked toward Rook.

Rook responded coldly:

"Hunt down the Radiant remnants."

With that, Rook’s figure vanished from the spot, heading in the direction where those two streaks of light had previously disappeared.

What they could gamble on now was that only this group of the Radiant remnants knew about that matter, so those two could not be allowed to remain alive!

Tiers gave a low snort and transformed into a mass of black mist to give chase.

...

"Young Master, the Tower of Light has collapsed; the Lord Inquisitor has won."

"The other reason I deployed my people here was precisely because I did not want any fish to slip through the net. You think he lost, but in truth, he was sending out a signal."

"Young Master, you mean?"

"Alas, our men died in vain."

...

"Lady Envoy, the Tower of Light!"

"It is a signal. Immediately command all believers in York City to evacuate by the fastest means possible. Do not believe you can remain hidden, for what follows immediately will be a massive dragnet conducted jointly by all the churches, led by the Church of the Order."

"Yes, my Lady, but as for Elder Doak..."

"His soul shall be cast into the embrace of the Light."

Miss Bertha produced a piece of red paper, rolled it up, and swallowed it down. Consequently, her countenance began to alter, her hair color shifted, and even her height and physique showed differences.

No longer resembling Linda, she restored her original appearance—a tall, cold woman with long red hair.

She stepped out of the clinic and entered the elevator.

Meanwhile, inside the clinic, the security guards, cleaning staff, assistants, receptionists, and nearly half of the psychological physicians all abandoned their posts well before closing time.

The entire establishment instantly grew desolate and cold, prompt a few of the newly hired doctors to crack open their office doors, poking their heads out to glance around in complete bewilderment over what had transpired.

"Has the boss gone bankrupt?"

...

"This power of light is so incredibly comforting," Piaget remarked.

Mr. Bede replied, "That is exactly how the practitioners of the Church of Light used to proselytize in the old days. They would first preach their dogmas and then summon the light, ensuring everyone present felt a deep, radiating warmth within their bodies and minds. Many would mistake this for a divine caress from their deity and subsequently convert into faithful believers."

"A mere speck of light like this could never make me betray Linda."

Karen, however, felt somewhat dizzy from the intense luminescence that had flared moments ago. Even though they were deep within the basement, the light seemed capable of penetrating solid physical barriers; in short, its presence could be distinctly felt.

He wondered if this could be considered a form of radiation...

Karen stood up and said, "It seems the people upstairs have all dispersed."

Mr. Bede spoke, "Let us leave this place first, Karen. I shall head back to the Allen Manor."

"And you?" Karen turned his gaze toward Piaget.

"Judging by the state of this basement, my house is likely ruined, and the neighboring property must be in even worse shape. The company has probably ceased operations by now. I intend to follow Mr. Bede back to his manor."

Piaget had always been a remarkably easygoing and detached individual. Of course, Karen suspected that this carefree attitude stems partly from his genuine nature, and partly from the fact that he had never lacked money a single day in his life.

"Just to be safe, I shall check once more."

Mr. Bede walked over to the corpse he had personally slain, dipped his fingers into the fresh blood, and began to paint upon the wall before him.

"Can it really be done so crudely?" Piaget whispered.

Mr. Bede replied, "Is that not precisely how the most primitive cave paintings came to be?"

As he painted, Mr. Bede suddenly froze.

"What is it?" Karen asked.

"There are still people. Two of them. I recognize their familiar auras—it is that man and woman from the Church of Light."

"It is not over yet?" Karen questioned, puzzled.

"They have been sealed, entombed deep underground. The old fellow used the Tower of Light to transmit a message on one hand, but what he truly intended to achieve was likely a diversion to shield his two prized students and keep them safe.

No one would ever suspect that his two disciples are currently sealed beneath the earth, slumbering while slowly recovering from their injuries."

"Could they not have hidden inside a basement?" Piaget inquired.

Mr. Bede swept a glance over him and said, "You are an ordinary human, I possess no familial faith, and the believers of the God of Walls are virtually indistinguishable from regular folk. Though Karen walks the path of ecclesiastical faith, his peculiar purification process renders him an 'ordinary person' as well for the time being.

The three of us are all 'ordinary people.' In their perception, we are merely three drops of water within a vast ocean.

They, however, cannot blend in. Even if a fish hides in the darkest depths beneath the surface, it remains easily discoverable. That is why such measures were necessary."

"Beneath the neighboring plot?" Karen asked. "How deep?"

"Thirty meters."

"How long will their seal last, and when will they awaken?"

"It will take some time, perhaps a month, perhaps three. Because they are currently just sealed to isolate their aura from being detected, the seal will likely only gradually convert into nourishment to aid their healing after a month has passed, just to be safe. That will take quite a long time.

Why do you ask? Do you wish to dig them up?"

"I am merely asking." Karen shook his head. "I am not insane."

The basement door had become twisted and deformed, jammed so tightly that it was utterly impossible to open.

Fortunately, several makeshift "skylights" had been blasted through the ceiling, allowing the three men to scramble out.

The ground above was strewn with numerous mangled corpses, most of which belonged to the Raphael family, while the few intact bodies had been reduced to blackened charcoal.

"How does it feel?" Karen teased.

"Exhilarating," Mr. Bede replied. "Follow me, we go this way."

With Mr. Bede leading the way, they guided Karen and Piaget away from the street, and it was only after stepping into a twenty-four-hour cafe that Mr. Bede finally breathed a sigh of relief.

From this vantage point, the distant wails of sirens and fire trucks could be heard, yet they seemed stuck in place, showing no signs of approaching.

The cafe owner stepped forward, presenting himself before Mr. Bede.

"Arrange for our return to the manor."

"Yes, Patriarch."

"Karen, what about you?" Bede inquired.

"I need to make a phone call."

Karen dialed his home, spoke briefly, and hung up the receiver. Upon walking back, he found Bede and Piaget standing there, waiting for him.

"The carriage is outside, so we shall take our leave first," Mr. Bede said.

Piaget stepped forward, offering Karen a gentle embrace before walking toward the cafe entrance alongside Mr. Bede.

Mr. Bede paused in his tracks, looking back at Karen to offer a reminder:

"Find some time to visit the manor and see Eunice."

The tone of these words felt precisely like a father-in-law reprimanding his son-in-law: How long has it been since you last bothered to come home!

Yet due to Karen's unique status, Mr. Bede could only choose to express it in a roundabout manner.

Upon hearing Eunice's name, Piaget did not seem surprised in the slightest, even nodding along in agreement:

"Exactly, exactly."

"I understand, sir. Once the matters at hand are settled, I shall return to visit her."

Karen stood in place, watching the carriage bearing Bede and Piaget depart.

The ultimate outcome of these events did not seem to change much, for Piaget had come to York City specifically to wait for someone, and now he had found him.

Instinct told him that Mr. Bede harbored incredibly deep secrets; after all, he was a man capable of sitting face-to-face with grandfather in the study just to chat.

Karen had sought confirmation from Puer, and had personally instructed Alfred to leaf through Mr. Hoffen's notes and various church texts, all of which led to the conclusion that followers of the God of Walls were not particularly adept at fighting.

Yet observing Mr. Bede, Karen began to harbor doubts regarding this conclusion.

But surely one could not dispatch assassins to eliminate him simply to verify a theory?

What proved even more absurd was that he might very well foresee that Karen was the one sending killers after him.

Nor could one use his family to threaten him, for he was entirely capable of sitting on a distant hillside, drawing inspiration from the scenery to paint while watching his own manor crumble to pieces.

"Sir, do you require anything at the moment?" The cafe owner was a member of the Allen family, though only the core inner circle knew of Karen's true identity.

Karen glanced down at his filthy, dust-covered garments and asked, "Is it possible to take a bath here?"

The second floor of the cafe featured private rooms, complete with bathing facilities and beds.

Only then did Karen realize that the world contained not only pastry shops of a certain repute, but cafes of a similar nature as well.

No wonder it operated twenty-four hours a day; the patrons who frequented this establishment came for far more than mere coffee.

Nevertheless, Karen politely declined the owner's suggestion to call a maidservant to assist with his bath. Indulging in such services within an establishment owned by his wife's family would require his brains to be thoroughly stuffed with canned herring.

After a shower, and having changed into the fresh cafe waiter uniform provided by the proprietor, Karen felt a profound sense of rejuvenation wash over him.

Descending the stairs, he took a seat and began to partake of the modest meal that had been set out for him.

As the last morsel of veal disappeared into his mouth, a battered, black second-hand Ponce pulled to a halt right before the cafe doors.

Karen offered a polite nod to the owner, who bid him farewell with a deep and reverent deference.

Alfred stepped out of the vehicle to hold the rear door open, and Karen glided into the backseat.

Once inside, the quarters proved exceedingly cramped; young John occupied the passenger seat up front, while Mr. Pavaro sat beside him, the congestion owed entirely to a large dog sprawled across the center floor and a cat that had immediately claimed Karen's lap.

"Did the snake emerge?" Mr. Pavaro inquired, breaking the silence.

"And wounded, at that," Karen replied with a faint smile.

"You have endured much suffering," Mr. Pavaro said softly.

"It actually bears very little relation to the case you are investigating. Without this particular business, I might not have broken the deadlock so smoothly."

"Let the boy give us the address then. I questioned him at the house, but he insisted that without your explicit command, his