Chapter 162: Learned to Fight!

Chapter 162: Learning How to Fight!

Cullen gathered the two shovels from the ground, returned them to the hearse, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Pulling the rearview mirror down to face himself, he muttered,

“Decent?”

He wiped the glass with a single finger, then looked at his reflection once more.

“Is this considered decent as well?”

Looking out the window, Cullen had to admit that a cemetery at night was a place that truly brought peace to one's heart—mostly because everyone lying here was already at peace.

After sitting a while longer, he checked the time, started the engine, and drove toward the cemetery gates.

Reaching the exit, he saw the old keeper sitting there, boiling macaroni over a small stove.

“Not sleeping?” Cullen called out.

The old man glared at him crossly. “If I’m asleep, who closes the gates?”

“It’s almost dawn.”

The cemetery opened by day and closed by night.

“Heh, the dead are far more punctual than the living.”

“You really are dedicated.”

“If your kind comes around in the dead of night a few more times, I’ll likely end up lying inside there myself. Do you have any idea how hard it is for an old man to get a proper night’s sleep?”

“My apologies. There won’t be a next time.”

“No, next time will just cost extra!”

“Fair enough.”

The old man smiled, stirring the macaroni in the pot with a spoon as he asked in a casual, half-hearted tone, “A pity you’re in such a rush to get back, otherwise I’d treat you to breakfast. Oh, wait, I suppose this still counts as a late-night snack.”

Cullen opened the car door, stepped out, and approached the small stove. “I actually am starving.”

“…” The old man stared.

From the first batch of macaroni, the old man took half, and Cullen took half.

“Ketchup, here.”

“Is there any chili sauce?”

“Only ketchup. Anything else is heresy.”

“Very well.”

Each holding a plate and a fork, they began to eat.

Before long, both of their plates were wiped clean.

The old man smiled and asked, “Full?”

Cullen shook his head. “No.”

The old man went inside, brought out another bag, and dumped it into the pot. As he poured, he remarked, “I see how it is. You’re planning to eat back the gate fee you just gave me.”

“Do you have a refrigerator in your shack?”

“Yes.”

“Then some other day, I’ll have someone bring over some meatballs and sliced meat, so we can prepare for a hotpot next time.”

“You’ll have someone?” The old man stroked his chin. “Aren’t you Puccini’s boy?”

Cullen shook his head. “Not exactly.”

“Are you his son-in-law?”

“Uh…”

The old man slapped his thigh and laughed. “Puccini’s son-in-law, well, well. You certainly look decent enough.”

Helpless, Cullen took the spoon and began stirring the decent macaroni in the pot.

“What’s your name?”

“Cullen. And yours?”

“They all call me Saman the Piper.”

“Oh, the macaroni is done.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me why they call me ‘the Piper’?”

“No, because I don't particularly want to listen to a performance right now.”

“That is your loss—a loss for your ears and your soul, I guarantee it!”

“Yes, I believe you.”

Cullen began scooping the macaroni out.

“Leave some for me! Are you going to eat it all, you scoundrel!”

After sharing two pots of macaroni, a sense of deep satisfaction finally set in.

“I’d like to make a call to the funeral home.”

“Go ahead, and fetch my pipe while you’re at it.”

Cullen stood up, walked into the keeper’s cabin, and first picked up the telephone to dial the funeral home.

“Hello, Young Master?”

“It’s me.”

“Young Master, where are you right now?”

“Ivy Cemetery.”

“Young Master, I will come to pick you up immediately. I’ll bring Dincom along so he can drive the hearse back, and I will drive you straight home.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

Cullen found Alfred’s arrangement quite satisfactory.

Hanging up the phone, Cullen glanced around the room and spotted a flute on an office desk. Picking it up, he walked out onto the steps and handed it to Saman.

Old Saman took the pipe and raised it to his lips, but just as he was about to play, he lowered it again and said to Cullen:

“Young man, I think you should learn to show a bit more respect to your elders.”

“For instance?”

“For instance, when an elder wants to play the pipe, you should first say that you are looking forward to it.”

“But I really don’t want to listen.”

“Hey, don’t you find this boring?”

“No, I just want to sit here for a while.”

“You might not be bored, but they will be.”

"Who?"

"Here—aren't there so many people? They've all gathered round, waiting to hear me play. This is everyone's morning lesson, a custom of our place; no one is ever late!"

As he spoke, Old Saman observed Karen, but seeing that Karen showed no sign of being "frightened," he knitted his brows and said with a touch of pique, "I forgot you're in this line of work. How could you be afraid of ghost stories?"

At that moment,

Karen’s gaze suddenly turned deep, and in a very calm tone, he said:

"Hush. Listen—they are speaking."

For reasons unknown, Old Saman gave a violent shiver;

Then, Karen smiled.

Realizing he had been fooled, Old Saman rose immediately in a fit of rage, raising his flute to strike Karen, but Karen took the opportunity to hop into the hearse and shut the door.

"Get down here!"

Karen shook his head.

"Come down!"

Karen smiled faintly, retrieved a half-empty pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and tossed it directly to Old Saman.

Saman caught the cigarettes and muttered a few more words at Karen, but found it awkward to press his anger any further; he sat back down on the steps and smoked his troubles away alone.

As he puffed, he wondered to himself—how on earth had he been frightened just now?

Meanwhile, Karen sat in the vehicle, eyes closed, resting his spirit.

He had no idea how long he lay there before the sound of a car approached from the front; opening his eyes, he saw Alfred had arrived. Karen stepped out of the vehicle and waved to Old Saman, who was still sitting on the steps:

"I'm off."

Old Saman turned his head away, refusing to look at him.

Dincomb stepped out of the car and bowed very respectfully to Karen.

"The car keys are inside."

"Very well, I understand. Please go back and rest quickly, sir."

Karen climbed into the car, and Alfred turned the vehicle around, driving straight toward the apartment without waiting for Dincomb’s hearse.

…

"Young Master, I don't think you need to concern yourself too much with this matter. Having that captain discover your unusual nature—doesn't that just prove you are an extraordinary person?"

"I am no longer concerned with that. What I care about is having no other choice but to sit there and look decent."

"So that is what was on your mind, Young Master."

"When Dincomb was pushed down by Edith's bodyguards, I actually saw it, but I could do nothing."

"They are all dead now, not a single one left. That is the consequence of provoking the Young Master!"

"Alfred."

"Yes."

"Next time, don't force it so hard, otherwise it sounds like sarcasm."

"You could have signaled me at the time, Young Master; I was actually waiting for your cue to act. I know that although Dincomb and Pick are quite useless, they represented the face of our funeral parlor at that moment."

Karen shook his head: "It’s pointless. If you don't know how to fight yourself, it feels very dull."

"The two spell scrolls from Purr and Kevin should be nearly finished. The Young Master will be able to fight very soon."

"Mm. By the way, go to the hotel tomorrow and move Mrs. Lake and the others to a different place. The backyard of the funeral parlor can be remodeled; running back and forth like this all the time is too troublesome."

"Yes, Young Master, I understand. In fact, the backyard of the funeral parlor is quite large; using so much space as a warehouse is truly a waste."

"Once those two scrolls are ready, I will first attempt to practice them. If I can master them relatively quickly, I ought to take advantage of this period to visit the Allen Manor.

Mr. Bedard reminded me once before, and tonight I was 'reminded' yet again by Captain Neo, heh."

"Does the Young Master miss Miss Eunice?"

"I miss home."

…

Dawn was already breaking by the time he returned home. After taking a shower and walking into the bedroom, Karen saw Purr fast asleep on the bed, while Kevin lay snoring in the dog bed; it was the first time Karen realized a dog's snoring could be so deafening.

The family cat and dog had indeed been exhausted these past few days. Karen first picked up a blanket and covered Kevin’s head with it, and the snoring instantly subsided a great deal.

Afterward, Karen scooped Purr up, placed her on the pillow beside him, and slipped into the covers himself, pulling the blanket over both of them.

Rest.

…

Having slept too late the previous night, it was already afternoon by the time he woke up. Karen got out of bed, and the moment he pushed open the bedroom door, he saw Purr riding Kevin, charging toward him at a sprinting pace.

"We've finished, Karen!"

"Woof!"

Karen pushed open the study door and found two exquisite scrolls resting upon the desk.

"I'll begin practicing once I've washed up," Karen said with a smile.

"Heavens, are you mad, practicing at home?!"

"What's wrong?"

"I mean, if you happen to misjudge your strength, you might tear the house apart."

"Is it that exaggerated?"

"Of course! These are the two spells that stupid dog and I meticulously selected as the ones most suited for you!"

One was a former family faith at the ninth tier, the other a malevolent deity once suppressed;

such a teaching staff, and a two-on-one at that, was an absolute luxury.

"Very well, I shall wash up first."

Karen walked into the bathroom and began preparing to brush his teeth.

Purr rode Kevin to the bathroom doorway and said, "I thought you'd be so excited that you'd blindly drive out to find a spot immediately. I didn't expect you to insist on washing up first. Karen, you truly are forever so decent."

Karen paused his movements and looked at Purr.

Purr tilted her head in slight confusion,

and Kevin tilted his canine head in confusion as well.

"Lately, I've been a bit sensitive to the word 'decent'."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know."

Purr smiled.

Kevin smiled too.

After washing up, Karen found Little John sitting on the sofa, a box resting on the coffee table before him.

"Why didn't you go to school?"

"It's the weekend," little John said.

"Ah," Karen nodded.

"Master, I've made some pies in the kitchen. I'll go pack your clothes and luggage now."

"Pack my luggage?"

"Yes, Mr. Alfred said you're going on a long journey tomorrow to visit relatives."

"Tomorrow? Alright, go ahead and pack."

Siri walked into the bedroom.

Karen stepped into the kitchen, picked up a pie, and took a bite. The flavor was excellent; Siri already knew his taste, adding neither a heavy hand of sugar nor any sauces.

"Where are we going for our practice?" Karen asked.

Little John spoke up: "Mr. Alfred said the woods near the old sausage factory would be perfect for practicing."

"What about the car? Alfred went out."

"Master, Mr. Alfred said he borrowed Mr. Alaye's car to go out today. He left our family car behind; the keys are right here."

Little John opened the box on the coffee table. Inside, alongside the car keys, lay a revolver.

"What's the handgun for?"

"Alfred said it was Mr. Gross's pistol, which he picked up yesterday. There are bullets inside for you to test with, Master."

Purr remarked, "Oh, what a thoughtful little radio sprite."

Since Alfred had arranged even this before his departure, he must have discussed the previous night's events with them. Thus, outside the bathroom door earlier, Purr had deliberately used the word "proper" with him.

"Then let us set off."

With a cheerful grin, little John carried the schoolbag and cradled the box as he followed along. He had to go, for neither dog paws nor cat paws could pull a trigger.

And so, Karen drove the car, carrying little John and the two household pets to those woods. After parking by the roadside, the group ventured deeper into the thicket.

Once they had selected a secluded spot, little John sat down, set the box containing the pistol aside, and opened his schoolbag. From within, he produced several bottles of water and a thermos filled with ice cubes.

Karen, meanwhile, unrolled a scroll.

Purr spoke up: "This is the Aegis of the Sea God."

"How do I use it?"

"Channel your spiritual energy into it. Once it reaches a certain threshold, it will activate. It's that simple. After all, neither the stupid dog nor I can set up any restrictions right now."

Karen nodded and began to pour his spiritual energy into the scroll in his hands. Before long, the parchment began to glow, and a surge of conscious power sought entry into his mind.

"Do not resist it; that is the stupid dog's mental imprint."

"Woof!"

Karen let down his mental guard and attempted to communicate with this wave of consciousness. Soon, his awareness plunged into a brief darkness, followed by the realization that he was standing in a vast, white expanse.

Beneath his feet, arrayed lines of a formation materialized, while before him, a phantom image began to evolve. Above his head, a suit of azure armor shimmered with brilliant light, continuously sundering and recombining.

At this moment, Karen finally understood why a scroll had been used for the imprint. This kind of inheritance was something "language" and "words" could never convey; even the medium of film would fall short.

Only through this immersive method could a learner perceive the true, deep-seated mysteries.

This was precisely where the difference lay between ordinary spells and true, high-tier magic. It was not merely difficult to learn, but even more... difficult to teach.

Therefore, advanced spells of this nature were bound to be exceedingly rare and precious.

Furthermore, Karen understood that during the transmission process, if the instructor made even the slightest error, the entire spell would be ruined. Fortunately, Karen held great faith in the professional competence of his two pets.

Very well, let us begin. Use the power of light to transform and replicate.

...

Within the woods, Karen stood with his eyes closed, his body radiating a faint, white light.

"How long do you think he'll take?" Purr asked Kevin.

"Woof."

"Five hours? Then there won't even be time for me to teach the Blade of the Dark Moon today."

"Woof."

"You mean five hours to finish learning both?"

"Woof."

"That's still a bit slow. Be bolder—an hour for each. That is the kind of treatment a genius like Dis deserves."

Little John placed two cups of water before Purr and Kevin in turn, then offered them two handfuls of dried fruit. Squatting beside them, he asked:

"Um, could I learn this too?"

Purr turned her head to look at him and asked, "Do you believe in the light?"

Little John froze for a moment, then immediately slapped his chest and said, "Of course, I believe in the existence of light!"

"Very good." Purr took a sip of water and nodded. "A pity you don't possess the attribute of light energy within your body."

"..." Little John.

"Woof."

"Miss Purr, Mr. Kevin, what did he say?"

"He said you could go and faithful to the Church of Light."

"Can I? Truly?"

"Woof."

"He said you can, and then the power of light will instantly purify you, a little aberrant demon, out of existence."

"..." Little John.

"If you wish to practice, you can go ask the radio sprite."

"Mr. Alfred?"

"Yes, his strength seems to have grown unaccountably greater recently." Purr looked toward Kevin. "I'm not mistaken, am I?"

"Woof." Kevin nodded.

"Sometimes I really think it's nonsense, but the problem is, he actually managed to conjure a path out of nonsense."

Just then, lines of blood appeared across Karen's body. As these bloodlines rippled outward, the white light enveloping him grew even more dazzling.

"Woof, woof!"

"Yes, yes, I know, I know, this is even more nonsensical. A cleric who is just one step away from becoming an Inquisitor can actually deploy the power of a family's belief system.

Suddenly, I feel that the radio sprite's side of things has become much more reasonable."

"Woof."

Little John said with deep reverence, "The Master is a genius, isn't he?"

"Do you know the meaning of despair?" Purr asked.

"No," little John replied, shaking his head.

"It is when a genius stands upon the shoulders of giants."

"That sounds a bit exaggerated."

"No, not in the slightest. A single shard of a godhead is enough for a family to receive the gospel of the Church of Order. But three shards?

Dis has placed the entire bloodline of the family squarely upon his shoulders."

"Woof!"

"Oh, I know, there is also that body of yours which he mended."

"Woof!"

"Yes, and the sheer peculiarity of his own soul—after all, he is a man capable of squeezing an evil god out and turning him into a dog.

Oh, no, I take back what I just said. This is a gathering of giants stacking themselves into a ladder, purely to lift him high above."

The words had scarcely left her mouth

when the white radiance enveloping Karen instantly shifted into blue. A suit of armor covering his entire body materialized upon him, a harness that seemed to fluidly flow, exuding a mysterious aura.

Purr murmured in admiration, "The Armor of the Sea God. Truly magnificent."

"Woof! Woof!"

"I know, it is because Karen was inherently handsome to begin with."

Karen opened his eyes, extended his hands, and looked down at the armor he wore. At this moment, a profound sense of absolute security filled him, and he could feel his body becoming extraordinarily light.

Instinctively, he leapt. Under the influence of the Sea God's Armor, his entire being vaulted over six meters into the air. Lacking balance upon his descent, he was on the verge of tumbling when a pillar of water suddenly shot forth from the armor, steadying his equilibrium.

Purr turned her head to look at little John. "How long?"

Little John lowered his gaze to his pocket watch. "Half an hour."

"Meow!" Purr let out an excited feline cry.

Karen began to run, discovering that his speed had also been immensely heightened. Far from weighing him down, the armor instead generated a kind of propulsion that responded directly to his consciousness.

Finally, Karen came to a halt and looked toward little John. "Try it with the revolver."

Little John opened the case and drew the pistol, his hands trembling slightly.

Karen walked over, the blue gauntlet on his right hand receding as he reached out to take the weapon from little John, aiming it at his own left arm.

"Bang!"

It was worth noting that Karen was an exceptionally cautious man; he only dared to conduct such an experiment because he possessed absolute confidence in the defensive capabilities of this Sea God's Armor.

Sure enough, the bullet did not pierce the plate, yet neither did it ricochet away. The tip of the bullet, originally glowing red, embedded itself into the surface of the armor, sending out ripples. It spun rapidly at first, but soon the crimson glow vanished, and it dropped to the ground.

As for the indentation left by the impact, it mended itself swiftly, leaving behind no trace whatsoever.

Most importantly, his arm felt not even the slightest vibration; the force had been entirely dissipated by the flowing water on the exterior.

Purr patted her paws together. "Congratulations, Karen, you finally no longer need to fear firearms. However, I must remind you that the Church possesses firearms loaded with specialized ammunition that carry armor-piercing and anti-magic enhancements, so..."

"If I can dodge them, I will."

"Mm, true, your approach has always been rather... prudent."

"Next one, then. The Blade of the Dark Moon."

"You do not require rest?"

"No."

"Very well, come, take this scroll."

Karen picked up the second scroll. Before infusing it with his spiritual power, he remarked, "For some reason, while copying and learning these, I feel as though I am reading inside Grandfather’s study."

Purr replied, "Thus, you can now comprehend the phrase often uttered by the adherents of our family's belief system: 'May the First Ancestor protect us.'"

The Sea God's Armor receded from Karen's body. He closed his eyes and funneled his spiritual power into the scroll.

Before long, the white light manifested once more.

Purr extended a paw and patted Kevin on the head, saying, "Look at this young man of our house. Doesn't he seem brimming with potential?"

"Woof," Kevin nodded.

"So, you ought to abandon any lingering notions of being an evil god. In the future, you might even manage to snag a title as a true deity. Look, even the radio sprite has beaten you to the punch."

"Woof?"

"You are asking me?" Purr flicked her tail. "In the future, I am going to become his symbiotic artifact spirit. None of you can surpass my speed."

Meanwhile, little John kept his eyes glued to the watch.

Finally, the white light surrounding Karen transitioned into a dark crimson.

Little John instantly cried out, "Fifteen minutes!"

Purr nodded with a touch of numbness. "So, the previous one took half an hour simply because he spent a great deal of time familiarizing himself with this method of learning."

The dark crimson enveloped Karen. From the palms of his hands extended two trails of scarlet light that resembled both whips and swords; as they trailed along the ground, the withered leaves beneath were instantly severed and scorched away.

Karen raised his hands, and gradually, the dark crimson upon his form stabilized, settling upon his arms like a pair of scimitars.

His silhouette began to dart backward. For a moment, it felt as though the wind was howling past his ears; his reverse velocity was so great that his back slammed directly into a tree trunk.

"Thud!"

"Cough, cough..."

The collision left him somewhat breathless.

"So, this Blade of the Dark Moon also augments agility, and its effect on speed is far more pronounced than that of the Sea God's Armor."

Karen closed his eyes. While the Blade of the Dark Moon remained active, the Sea God's Armor manifested once more upon his body.

Subsequently, Karen spread his arms wide, raising the twin crimson scimitars, and began to sprint forward.

"Buzz!"

"Buzz!"

"Buzz!"

"Buzz!"

After a full charge through the woods, two rows of trees were sliced clean through at the trunk.

Purr said in astonishment, "Is he not fatigued? For it to endure this long."

"Woof!"

"Smack!"

Purr struck the golden retriever's head with her paw. "No vulgar language allowed!"

"..." Kevin.

At long last, Karen came to a stop, the falling branches and debris automatically deflected away by the Sea God's Armor.

Cullen walked toward Purr, the Armor of the Sea God and the Blade of the Dark Moon completely dissolving from his form. Though he was exhausted to the point of bracing his hands against his knees, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, his mind remained clear, free of any vertigo or tearing pain.

Purr and Kevin were right; these were indeed the two spells best suited for him at this moment, fitting him even more perfectly than the Spear of Punishment.

Little John handed over a glass of ice water. Cullen took it and sat down, draining the chilled liquid in one long draught. Passing the empty glass back to Little John, he leaned back on his hands, allowing his body to recline halfway.

Though bone-weary, he felt an exhilarating sense of fulfillment. Above all, the sheer security of having mastered such power was truly beyond words; the deep-seated dread and unease that had hovered over his heart ever since he first opened his eyes to this world was finally beginning to dissipate.

"I have finally," he whispered, "learned how to fight."