Chapter 141: The Source of Sin (Please Subscribe!)

Chapter 141: The Source of Evil

At this moment, Mr. Pavaro exuded a deeply "sacred" aura, though this holiness had nothing to do with divinity.

In Karen’s eyes, forcibly linking the man before him to the "gods" would be raising the gods too high, while simultaneously defiling him.

Even Pu'er, perched upon Kevin’s back, was now gazing intently at Mr. Pavaro.

He was not about to die, nor was he merely dead; having already crossed that threshold once, he was now on the precipice of absolute eradication.

Beneath this inevitable end, he remained steadfast, adhering strictly to the tenets and principles of his inner heart.

Pu'er began to fathom why Karen, after "awakening" Mr. Pavaro, had consistently addressed him with the respectful honorific.

As these words left his lips, Mr. Pavaro’s frame grew significantly more stooped, the luster in his eyes dimming perceptibly, for his internal spirituality, having endured the previous trials, was now plunging into a rapid decline.

Just then, little John, who had been shivering with crossed arms in the background, slowly lifted his head, his pupils turning a stark white as his entire demeanor turned freezing cold:

"What a sickeningly hypocritical ritual, what laughably absurd words."

Everyone turned around to face little John, including Alfred, who stood by the sliding door observing the conditions outside.

Little John extended a finger toward Mr. Pavaro,

then pointed down at the "pigsty" below,

sneering:

"Do you see it? This is the miracle wrought by the Holy Church you believe in. How tangible, how impressively real."

Karen locked his gaze onto little John and asked,

"Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Little John gestured to his own face with a smirk. "Did you not bring him here precisely because you wished to converse with me?"

Karen shook his head, saying, "I brought him here because he has no home to return to now."

"He was the very first to be corrupted. His essence, his flesh, are the most suited to temporarily harbor my consciousness. Do you dare claim now that this was not your design?

I stand before you, and you have seen me. I have no desire to waste words debating trivialities here, reducing myself to his pitiful state."

Little John pointed once more at Mr. Pavaro.

"Very well," Karen conceded with a nod. "I intended to speak with you, which is why I brought him along. So, can you now tell me who you are—the very target I supposedly arranged to converse with?"

A savage malice flared across little John’s face; he flung his hands wide, and a piercing shriek erupted from his throat!

In an instant,

a sound so agonizingly sharp it could pierce the very soul rippled outward.

The golden retriever folded his ears flat, and Pu'er, upon his back, did the same;

the cat and the hound remained perfectly composed;

they might fear a fork thrown their way, but they held no dread for this so-called spiritual onslaught, for the caliber of their souls was exceedingly high.

Mr. Pavaro possessed no soul within his frame; his current existence relied entirely on the residual spiritual energy lingering in his corpse, so he, too, stood unmoving.

Alfred, who had been walking over, knit his brows; by the Church's classifications of aberrations, he belonged to the psychic class, granting him a potent immunity against such soul-rending attacks.

Thus, the only person present who truly had to confront and endure this assault was Karen.

Karen felt a sudden dizziness wash over his mind, followed by a violent spinning sensation, but he adapted almost instantly, for though he lacked Alfred’s innate immunity, he was intimately familiar with this brand of cranial agony.

He even found that little John’s current onslaught paled in comparison to the pain he used to endure while practicing the Spear of Punishment back at the Allen Manor.

As practice had proven, it was not only the palms that grew calluses from labor; the mind and the soul did the same.

A look of profound astonishment crossed little John’s face, for he realized his assault had failed to bring down a single soul present, including that cat and that dog!!!

"How dare you!"

Alfred stepped forward, but Karen raised a hand, signaling for him to hold.

Sensing Alfred’s presence behind him, little John lowered his hands and ceased his attack.

"Young Master..."

"Watch the outside. He poses no danger."

"Yes, Young Master."

Alfred returned to the sliding door, keeping a watchful eye on the perimeter.

Karen looked back at little John, asking once more with utmost gravity,

"Who are you?"

Little John tilted his head back, his mouth agape as a continuous, guttural rattle escaped his throat, his body trembling slightly in tandem.

A moment later,

little John lowered his head,

his voice dropping into a deep resonance:

"I have re-examined his memories regarding you."

"Oh?"

"His memories tell me that you had already orchestrated everything."

"Children always view things through a narrow, radical lens; it cannot be taken as absolute truth. I truly do not know who you are."

"I still do not believe you."

"Woof!"

Just then, the golden retriever let out a bark, turning his head back to look at the cat resting on his spine.

An exasperated Pu'er smacked the foolish hound’s head squarely with her paw.

Witnessing this display, Karen redirected his focus onto little John and inquired,

"Are you... a Sacred Tool?"

Little John stared back at Karen intently, recognizing that the youth had absolutely no reason to continue feigning ignorance.

"So, you truly had no inkling of my identity?"

"None."

"Then why on earth did you come here!"

Karen gestured toward the vast pigsty behind and below them, answering, "I came to resolve this matter."

"You did not even know who I was beforehand, yet you claim you came to resolve this?"

"I have pieced together a rough guess. That Lord Adjudicator did not orchestrate this for some mere Blood Spirit Powder; he did it to nurture something here. And that something is you. In all likelihood, you are that Sacred Tool, are you not?"

After being awakened, Mr. Pavaro had informed him that the moment he discovered the Lord Adjudicator standing behind them, he realized the ultimate objective of this affair far exceeded simple Blood Spirit Powder.

"And then?" little John pressed.

"There is no 'then,'" Karen said, shrugging. "I did not come for your sake. I came to save the people down there."

"They no longer require your salvation. Having consumed the forbidden elixir, their lifespans have already entered their final countdown. Hehehe, from the moment they were dragged into this place, their solitary destiny was to perish amidst agonizing torment, so that the resentment squeezed from their bodies could serve as your nourishment."

"Oh, during this process, they bleed heavily from their bodies, and it seems they were even taken to be used as materials.

So, you do not need to save them, it is meaningless."

"No, it has meaning, at least no one else will be sent in here in the future," Karen said.

"Hehehehe..." Little John laughed, "Do you mean that you and he possess the same nobility of character?"

Karen glanced at Mr. Pavarotti, shook his head, and said:

"No, I am not as noble as he is."

At this moment, Purr patted the golden retriever's neck again and let out a "meow." The golden retriever immediately turned around, carrying Purr as he ran down the high platform.

"This place has a grand array along its perimeter."

"We know."

"But did you know that there is actually a much more exquisite surveillance array inside?"

"That, we truly did not know."

"If I had not helped you obscure the surveillance array's perception of your entry, those few divine servants who have always been responsible for observing it would have already issued an alarm."

"Mhm, alright, thank you." Karen then called out to Alfred, who had been guarding the sliding door, "No need to keep watch there anymore, someone is helping us watch it. Go do your business."

"Understood, Young Master." Alfred turned and walked over, casting a wary glance at Little John before following the direction of Kevin and Purr, running down as well.

On the high platform, only Karen, Pavarotti, and Little John remained.

"Intuition tells me you are not very strong," Little John said. "Though for some reason I cannot see through your inner self, if you were truly strong enough, you would not have sneaked in stealthily."

"You are right." Karen agreed once more.

Little John hesitated, opening his mouth but stopping; strictly speaking, it was Karen's simple response every time that left him not knowing how to continue the conversation.

"What are they doing down there?" Pavarotti asked Karen.

Below, Kevin was incessantly sniffing the ground, while Alfred took array materials from his pocket, following behind the cat and dog to prepare.

"Did you not keep asking me before what we should do once we found this place? This is my way."

"I cannot quite understand it." Pavarotti looked at Little John, and after confirming that Little John could not pose any threat to Karen, asked, "Should I go down and look as well?"

"Of course you can, I will support you as you go down."

"No, no need, I will walk slowly. You stay, and talk to this... this one."

"Mr. Pavarotti," Karen called out, stopping him.

"Hmm?"

"You may watch, but you cannot stop it."

"Of course, I am already dead. A dead man, what can he stop, and what right does he have to stop anything?"

Finishing his words, Pavarotti staggered down the steps.

At this point,

On the entire high platform, only Karen and Little John were left.

Little John raised his hands, opened his mouth, and screamed once more!

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

But this time it was no soul attack; he simply, purely wanted to scream, to vent his emotions.

Finally, he finished screaming.

"Oh, I guess, you must have thought we came for you, right?"

Little John did not answer.

"And when you discovered that our target was not you, you felt very disappointed?"

Little John still did not answer.

"I am very sorry to have disappointed you."

Karen nodded at Little John, then simply turned his back to him, sitting down on the high platform to watch Kevin, Purr, and the others busying themselves below.

Just then, footsteps came from behind Karen;

Immediately following, a pair of small hands touched Karen's back, and then slowly shifted toward Karen's neck.

"Sit."

"Why are you not afraid of me?"

"Because you seem to lack capability."

The ability displayed by the possessed Little John at this moment... well, was only slightly stronger than the unpossessed Little John.

Even that opening scream was merely a bit startling at first, but one quickly adapted to it; it was nothing major.

"I really dislike talking to you, truly. I feel very pleased when talking to them, but when talking to you, the anger inside me surges up irrepressibly time and again."

"You might not believe it if I say so, but I make a living by accompanying people to talk."

Karen patted the space beside him again, motioning for him to sit.

Little John hesitated for a moment, but still sat down next to Karen.

"Why are you not afraid of me? No, not just you, but them as well..." Little John pointed at Purr and the others below, "None of them are afraid of me."

"I just told you the reason."

"But I do not like that reason."

"Alright, it is indeed not just because of that reason. It is mainly because the moment you appeared, you insulted Mr. Pavarotti, that one over there."

"The one without a soul?"

"Yes."

"Why is it that because I insulted him, you all are not afraid of me instead?"

"Because your insults were correct, mhm, and most importantly, the words you used to insult him just happened to explain your stance."

"My stance..."

Karen pointed at the people lying in the pigsty below:

"You pity them, you feel angry for them."

"I..."

"Therefore, you demonstrated your stance from the very beginning, and our stance happens to be the same."

"I feel... very strange."

"There is nothing to be strange about. I am not interested in you. Although I imagine a sacred artifact nurtured in this manner by a Justiciar must be incredibly powerful, or possess some other unimaginable ability, if it were merely to steal a sacred artifact, I would not have come here at all."

"Why?"

"Because it is too dangerous. To stake one's life here for a sacred artifact is not worth it."

"For them... it is worth it?"

"It is not worth it, either." Karen shook his head. "If I had not known of them, or if I had simply overheard their tale upon the road, I might have feigned deafness, or willfully dismissed it as an unreliable rumor, striving to banish it from my thoughts."

"I do not understand your words."

"Some matters are not a question of worth, but rather that one happens upon them, and cannot bear to flee."

"I still dislike speaking with you." Little John shook his head. "Yet if you can grant them deliverance, I should be glad to see it."

"They exist to nourish you, do they not?"

"Yes. Without them, I could not have been born."

Was this... the nurturing of an artifact spirit?

"He who buried me here wished to use them to birth me, to cultivate me, and to bring me to maturity."

"You will soon lose this soil of your growth. Do you not resent it?"

"You see, they call them 'sows in the pigsty,' while you call them 'soil';

but in my eyes, they—the generations who come wave after wave, and die wave after wave—are the kindred who raised me."

"I understand."

It was entirely unexpected that in this place, an artifact spirit of a holy relic, bred through such cruel means, would possess a consciousness so pure.

"This is the second time I have possessed him," Little John said. "The first time, I had only just learned to walk, and save for that old gentleman who ever wore the dark crimson divine robes, no one could see me.

I was somewhat lonely. Having only just learned to walk, I was very lonely.

Then, I beheld him. He was even smaller then than he is now, and I wished to play with him. Yet we played for only a brief moment before his father took him away. I could not leave this place, so I could only detach myself from his body."

It was in this manner that Little John had been corrupted.

"Later, upon discovering that I could walk, that old gentleman imposed another layer of sealing upon me. Since then, at intervals of half a year, he would apply a new seal in accordance with the measure of my growth."

"Do you not hate him?"

"Without him, I could not have been born. Therefore, I regard him as my kindred."

"Oh."

Little John pointed toward the pigsty below.

"It is a beautiful wish."

"Do you know? Every time I converse with them in dreams, when our talk reaches its end, they always beg of me the selfsame thing."

"What thing?"

"They beg me to kill them.

Therefore, I hope that one day, he might meet the same fate as these kindred of mine."

Karen fell silent.

"It is difficult to achieve, is it not? I know his identity, for I have corrupted several divine servants and read their memories. I know their faith as well. Ah, faith.

Their faith, much like that soulless man below, is in the God of Order."

"It is not the same," Karen corrected. "They believe in the God of Order; that man believes in Order itself."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes."

"I have ever been curious about one thing. Because I have read their memories, I wonder why a man who commits such deeds can still possess faith, and how he can become so powerful.

This completely contradicts the 'Regulations of Order' and the 'Light of Order' that I beheld within their memories."

"The place where we now stand is called Wien, and Wien is a nation.

When the civil servants of this nation enter office, they swear an oath to uphold the constitution. Yet this does not prevent a portion of them from becoming corrupt and degenerate later on, climbing ever higher and wielding greater authority. No matter how much they embezzle or neglect their duties in private, they can still 'perform' an image of incorruptibility and integrity before the electorate."

Most importantly, Karen recalled the occasion he had beheld the God of Order, when the deity had bestowed his starlight to answer his believers in a manner that was almost mechanically numb.

"I like your explanation very much." Little John looked toward Karen. "Therefore, I intend to answer a question of yours in return."

"The same question from the very beginning."

"You already know that I am a holy relic."

"Be more specific."

"I am... a copper coin."

"The Larks Copper Coin? You are the source of sin?"

An image immediately flashed through Karen's mind: Ron clutching that copper coin, salivating as he cried out: "My money... my money... my money..."

"It is a surprise that you should know of it."

"Are you an imitation of the Larks Copper Coin?"

"In theory, I have eight brothers, or perhaps sisters."

"So, you are the genuine article?"

"I must inform you of an unfortunate piece of news."

"My apologies, my phrasing was offensive. I should not have called you a genuine article."

"Though I am indeed discomfited by that title, it is not of this matter that I wished to tell you."

"What is it then?"

Little John stood up, facing the sliding door, and said:

"I sense that Grandfather has returned."

…

[The Larks Copper Coin: The True God Larks commanded his believers to gather the sources of sin in the world, smelting them into nine copper coins, which were sealed into a bronze coffin alongside his own corpse.]

—

PS: There will be another update tonight, please cast your monthly votes!