Chapter 144: Wake Up!!!

Chapter 144: Awaken!!!

Behind the Shield of Jurisprudence, as the contamination was steadily reeled in by the ebbing tide, Thiers’s expression finally began to ease. The burden borne by the caster was directly tied to the strain of the active formation.

Qi He removed his hand from Thiers’s shoulder. By now, he no longer worried that the captain of the Whip of Order would try to flee.

To pull the man into his orbit and forge a mutual bond of profit, Qi He had turned a blind eye when Thiers used this very layout to run his blood elixir powder business—an enterprise that had deeply displeased Luke.

In Luke’s eyes, accepting that these women made a grand sacrifice to mend the flawed artifact was one thing;

allowing that sublime sacrifice to be tainted by sordid, worldly corruption was quite another.

Thiers looked up at the Jurisprudent standing before him, his eyes swimming with profound terror, though deep within that fear lay a well of bitter resentment.

In the darkest moment of the crisis, had a single thing gone awry, he would have been drained dry in an instant, his soul sucked into the formation to serve as the final handful of fuel to keep the mechanism running.

Without even needing to employ his insight, Qi He knew precisely what the captain behind him was thinking.

The relationships among their cohort were simple because they were pure—purely transactional.

Thus, there was no need to decipher the complexities of human nature, for they possessed very little of it to begin with.

The ebbing continued. In ten minutes—perhaps even less—the contamination would be reclaimed. Then, he could dissolve the Shield of Jurisprudence, leap down, seal the remaining corruption with one hand, and effortlessly crush them all with the other.

No, crushing them easily would be too merciful. He would torture them exquisitely.

Those succubus eyes would be his.

And that young man who had wielded the Spear of Punishment—Qi He instinctively sensed something wrong with him. When the youth cast spells, he radiated the aura of a Divine Priest, yet he had summoned the Spear of Punishment. Logically speaking, setting aside whether a Divine Priest could even manifest such a thing, what could a Divine Priest possibly offer to fuel the spear's creation?

Still,

they had given him an excellent blueprint. When he cultivated the next Loya, he could use this exact method to detonate the contamination source, bury every last witness, and emerge as the grand savior.

Just then,

Qi He saw the young man stand up. From beneath the youth's feet, a chain of Order manifested.

The moment he saw the iron chain, Qi He’s gaze narrowed.

Chains of Order were standard issue for the clergymen of the Church of Order, a physical manifestation of their faith, yet the chain beneath this young man gave Qi He a deeply unsettling feeling.

It was too simple, so simple it seemed utterly devoid of spiritual energy, as though it had materialized out of thin air.

But was it not supposed to be a spell?

As the young man manipulated it, the chain seemed less like a spell and more like an extension of his own arm—natural, fluid, and effortless.

When he saw the chain stretch toward the groove, Qi He jolted, suddenly realizing what the youth intended.

Yet his composure returned just as quickly, and he shook his head with a quiet chuckle.

"Heh, futile."

"My Lord... is he planning to... use Awaken?" Thiers’s voice trembled as he spoke.

"It seems so. He has found the second source of contamination."

"The second... source?"

A wave of sheer despair washed over Thiers.

"It is useless. I personally placed a restriction beneath that groove. He cannot detonate it. If he dares to probe inside, his soul and flesh will be corrupted instantly. He might very well dissolve into a puddle of foul water."

"That is good... that is good... My Lord... I can barely... hold on..."

"You can manage a bit longer. Don't worry, it will be over soon. All of this is about to end."

At that moment, the figure of a young girl peeked out from Qi He’s chest.

"Did you tell him?" Qi He asked.

Loya looked down at Karen walking toward the groove, a slight smile brushing her lips. Then, she twisted around to face Qi He.

"Old man, I can see your injury. You are wounded so deeply, and there is still the power of the Light attribute lingering in your wound, gnawing away at your flesh without pause."

"You should focus on the situation before you, for it is entirely under my control."

"Old man, for some reason, I have a premonition. You are going to die today."

As she spoke, Loya leaned further outward, but after a certain distance, black chains bound her feet, preventing her from fully separating from the Jurisprudent's body.

Even so, she stared stubbornly at Thiers, who was still straining to maintain the formation.

"And you will probably die tonight, too."

"He cannot hear you."

"How can you be so sure he can't?

Hehehe... the people under you, including yourself, have all betrayed Order. They could even betray the God of Order, so why would they ever be loyal to you?"

"I do not need loyalty."

"Oh, what a self-inflicted slap to the face. You happen to need my loyalty."

"Not yours. Once this matter is resolved, I will obliterate you immediately. The next Spirit of the Copper Coin will have absolutely nothing to do with you."

"How terrifying. But do you see me shaking?"

"You will fear it. Any conscious existence instinctively dreads non-existence."

"Then what about him?"

Loya pointed downward toward where Mr. Pavaro sat, with only a final, fading spark of spirituality left within him.

"He doesn't seem to fear death... oh wait, non-existence, does he?"

Loya turned back around, drawing close until her face was level with Qi He’s.

"Grandfather, my dear grandfather, why are you silent?"

"Or is my grandfather simply at a loss for words now?"

"Hehehe, those who lose their faith are always enraged by those who hold onto theirs. Because the mere existence of those people is a humiliation to them."

"Furthermore, grandfather, I am really not lying to you, nor am I trying to disturb your mind on purpose. I truly feel that you probably won't live to see today's sunrise."

"You spoke a great deal with him?" Qi He inquired.

Loya turned once more to look at Karen down below. "Yes, I sat beside him, and we talked a lot. Ever since I was born, I have never spoken so much with a normal, living human being.

Oh, I forgot to count you, grandfather. But in my eyes, you were already a dead man from the start."

"I see. Next time, I will use a spell to alter my appearance. Young girls always prefer handsome youths. Next time, I will make sure that when you see me, you will call me brother instead of grandfather."

"Blegh..."

Loya leaned down, making a gagging sound.

"Grandfather, you truly are disgusting."

...

The chain beneath Karen’s feet had already plunged into the groove, while he remained standing still.

Little John came stumbling over. He still did not understand what was happening around him; he only saw a massive, transparent shield ahead and a compressing mushroom shape above.

Instinctively, he wanted to find Karen, because only Karen could give him a sense of security now. Oh, and the orphanage—I won't go to the orphanage...

Wait, but when was it ever said that I was to be sent to the orphanage?

"Woof!"

The golden retriever barked at young John, forbidding him from stepping forward and disturbing Karen.

Pu'er went a step further, speaking outright:

"Sit, don't move!"

"Oh, alright."

He found it remarkably easy to accept that this cat could speak human tongue; just as "Loya" had remarked while searching his memories, from the very moment he had joked in the office and Karen had been ready to murder him on the spot, a profound reverence and dread for Karen had been deeply embedded in his heart.

Young John sat down, raising a hand to tap at his own forehead;

shrouded beneath such a thick, suffocating aura of pollution,

he felt somewhat intoxicated by the sheer lack of clean air.

Mr. Pavaro watched this display, a tinge of sorrow coloring his voice:

"I still believe we ought to leave right now."

He tilted his head back, looking toward the ceiling, where that black mushroom cloud—already shrunk by more than half its original size—was still being compressed, a sign that the time remaining for Karen and the others to escape was dwindling rapidly.

"We can always try; who knows, perhaps a miracle will happen?" Pu'er spoke up.

"Relying on miracles, is it..." Pavaro was somewhat at a loss for words;

discouraging remarks were ill-suited for the moment, yet words of encouragement would sound utterly hollow.

Pu'er did not bother to explain further; naturally, one could not rely entirely on miracles for everything, but the problem was that the titles and identities Karen carried were simply too numerous, and far too dazzling.

Miracles could not happen every single time, but if one were to occur, it would undoubtedly choose someone like Karen;

for he possessed too many of the conditions that miracles favored.

Alfred now stood at Karen’s side, gazing down at his master, whose eyes were tightly shut.

"Alfred," Karen spoke, his eyes remaining closed.

"Master, I am here."

"If I fail, we shall die."

"To be able to die by Master's side is my utmost honor."

Karen offered a faint smile,

and then,

following the sensory perception traveling up from the tip of the chains, he began to synchronize it with his own consciousness.

Karen's expression instantly contorted into one of immense agony and struggle; he knelt down involuntarily, then collapsed into a prostrate crawl, propping himself up with both hands on the ground before him while straining his neck upward.

For he perceived a dense, swirling mass of resentment, so thick that it caused his soul to plunge into a profound despair, and the physical reaction to this was akin to the suffocation of drowning, which was why Karen instinctively threw his head back, subconsciously believing that only this would allow his head to break the "water's surface."

Karen had, once again, miscalculated.

The first time, he had miscalculated the hour of the Inquisitor's return, unaware that what was being sacrificaly nurtured here was actually a divine artifact;

this time, he had miscalculated because he had never before tasted what it meant to experience the "swamp" used to breed the spirit of a divine artifact, or just how terrifying this swamp truly was.

Yet there was no sense of defeat in Karen's heart; under the premise that the scales of strength were entirely disproportionate, miscalculating in a few areas was only to be expected.

If his own strength were grand enough, there would be no need for calculations at all, just like back when he handed the list over to his grandfather; thereafter, it would be nothing more than showing up at their doors to have them sign in.

Regardless, that he could engineer such a situation was already quite a remarkable feat.

Karen bore no psychological burden.

Alfred looked at Karen prostrate upon the ground, making no move to support him; instead, he silently covered his mouth with his hand, and immediately after, a rhythmic cadence began to emanate from his throat.

It was a deep, low rhythm, carrying a stark, palpable sense of oppression, yet as one followed the cadence down, a glimmer of hope could be felt.

Mr. Pavaro watched the scene in utter astonishment; he truly had not expected such a spectacle to unfold before his eyes, and the meager scrap of spirituality left within his body seemed entirely incapable of helping him comprehend it.

Young John craned his neck, watching Karen kneeling in agony on the floor, and watching Alfred standing beside Karen, crafting the rhythm while his body swayed in time with the beat, his leather shoes continuously tapping against the ground.

For a moment, young John felt his mouth grow dry;

he was a playful child, a boy who fully unleashed his childish nature, and at this very moment, a violent urge suddenly surged within his heart:

I, I want so badly to join in!

Pu'er opened her feline mouth wide: "Meow." (Has he gone mad?)

"Woof!" (And so, his faith was born.)

Strands of black mist began to exude from Karen's body; this did not belong to Karen himself, but rather, on the contrary, it meant that his body and soul were currently enduring a horrific pollution!

When you forge a pact with the abyss, the abyss gazes back and rewards you with its own gifts.

Veins bulged across his flesh, but these "veins" were entirely black, gradually manifesting upon Karen's skin.

"Ah..."

Karen could not help but let slip a low, agonizing wail from his throat.

...

Up on the high platform, Loya watched the situation below with immense gravity.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, does your heart ache for him?" Qishe asked.

"Suddenly, I think he is truly beautiful, even in his current state."

"Rest assured, when the next 'you' is born, I shall alter my own appearance to match his."

"Grandfather, you do not understand; it is a feeling. Beauty is not merely about looks; some people look handsome, but the moment they open their mouths to speak, to chat, to walk, they give off the impression of a collapsing building;

yet there are others with whom, when you speak to them, your emotions are naturally drawn out, stirred instantly by their words and their expressions."

"Who told you these things?"

"The elder sisters here, of course; I often chat with them in my dreams, and they have people they love too. Some hold secret unrequited crushes, some have long been married, and some even have children.

They simply love chatting with me about what it feels like to love someone."

"Then let us look forward to it, to watching with your own eyes as this young man dissolves into a puddle of foul, stinking pus."

"Even if he turns into a puddle of pus, he still wouldn't be half as disgusting as you are right now, Grandfather, hehe."

Qishe’s hands began to draw inward, signifying that the technique of the 【Resurgent Tide】 was on the verge of completion.

Behind him, Tiers felt the heart that had been suspended in his throat slowly settle back down; he even found the leisure to curse: Ruke, why haven't you arrived yet, you must be doing this on purpose!

...

Outside, Adjudicator Ruke finally took a step forward, seeing that the situation had already been brought under control.

Though he knew that entering now and appearing before them would surely invite a scolding, he did not care, for there was never any warmth to speak of within their circle to begin with.

Yet as his body prepared to liquefy into mist during his advance to accelerate his speed, he suddenly froze, staring up at everything in the air ahead in absolute disbelief.

...

The black lines on Karen's skin grew denser and denser, looking from a distance as though a person had been carved all over with countless small incisions; though no blood flowed out, the sensation was practically identical.

It felt as if he had transformed into a fragile balloon, swollen with water, while on the outside, razor-sharp blades hacked away at him in a violent frenzy.

He had no idea which of the impending slashes would finally rupture him;

he was not even certain he could survive until the next stroke fell.

Alfred continued his performance, utterly consumed and lost in the moment;

the birth of this faith was the ultimate testament to his loyalty to Cullen, believing blindly that Cullen would rise again, a belief so eternal that even in death, he would trust it was not the end for Cullen, but merely the path toward a new beginning.

Kevin bounded over on all fours until he stood before Cullen, and looking at the youth who was now contorted in agony, the dog blinked his eyes.

Purr dropped down from the golden retriever's back and stared at the hound. "You stupid dog, do you have any ideas?"

The golden retriever shook his head.

Purr asked again, "Kevin, do you have any ideas?"

Kevin shook his head.

Purr practically shrieked, "Ranyedal, do you have any ideas?"

Ranyedal shook his head.

"You really are a useless piece of trash for an evil god!"

The golden retriever wagged his tail, nudged closer, and extended his tongue to lick Cullen's forehead, then crouched low before him, crossing his front paws, letting his tongue loll out as a grin spread across his face.

By then, the level of contamination radiating from Cullen behind him had reached a critical breaking point.

Yet, just as Cullen himself felt on the verge of being swallowed whole by this terrifying concentration of corruption, everything began to recede like an ebbing tide;

not only did the sensation of agony begin to fade, but even the suffocating pressure swiftly diminished.

The golden retriever looked at Purr:

"Woof!"

His body was personally modified by me; it was originally meant to serve as the vessel for my own form.

"Woof!"

Who am I? I am a great god, I am the great Ranyedal!

"Woof!"

They all call me an evil god, so let me be an evil god, for what places in this world could possibly be more plagued by contamination than the body of an evil god!

"Meow?" (Then why was he in so much pain just now?)

"Woof! Woof!"

Just like how he developed a resistance to ordinary spiritual attacks after practicing the Spear of Punishment, it is the same with contamination; expose him to it a few more times, and it won't hurt as much as the first.

At that moment,

Cullen began to slowly stand up;

extending outward from beneath his feet and plunging deep into the recesses of the groove, the single black chain began to splinter, fracturing into dozens of chains that buried themselves into the corpses floating above the groove, and into the pale bones faintly visible beneath the water's surface.

The countless dense chains that split off were white!

Witnessing this sight, the golden retriever gaped his jaws wide and slowly stood up, barking at the scene before his eyes:

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

This required no translation, for it was purely the excited baying of a hound.

Mr. Pavarotti watched all of this, and for reasons unknown, a sudden wave of profound emotion swelled within his chest, causing him to instinctively cup his hands over his heart:

"Praise Order!"

Alfred accelerated his rhythm, still playing with reckless abandon, though two streaks of tears now coursed down the corners of his eyes.

As Cullen's eyes slowly opened, the scattered white chains began to emit a faint white luminescence, acting like a soothing caress, whispering softly like a murmur.

The previous resentment had been their weeping;

now, Cullen felt as though he were wearing a white lab coat, seated inside a clinic office, except the seat before his desk was occupied not by a single client, but by a dense, suffocating crowd of them.

I am terribly sorry,

I cannot offer psychological counseling to each of you one by one, and perhaps you do not need me to do so, for it has already lost all meaning;

I do not possess the power to save you, nothing before us can be altered, and your fates were sealed long ago;

all that I can achieve,

is to help you unlock your shackles,

and then,

allow this city,

to hear the weeping that comes from you!

At this very instant,

Cullen finally stood perfectly straight,

he spread his hands wide,

and spoke:

"Awaken!"