Chapter 195: Gentle Dog

Chapter 195: The Gentle Hound

Before Karen's eyes, the phantom of Mr. Hoffen seemed to materialize, the old gentleman himself stomping his feet in a frantic frenzy, likely convinced that by flipping to this very page of notes, Karen had somehow succumbed to the "beguilement" of an evil god.

Karen could well understand Mr. Hoffen's "anxiety," for regardless of appearances, what lay sealed within Kevin’s flesh was indeed a deity of malice and corruption.

Even if this dread divinity had fluidly transitioned into the docility of a domestic pet—performing chores like opening doors and dousing lamps as if born to the tasks, not only offering arcane spells but also allowing itself to be ridden about all day by Purr as a mere mount—

Karen had never truly regarded it as a common hound raised by his own hand.

In fact, mapping the depths of the human heart, one could infer that however warm and guileless the hound appeared on the surface, an equal measure of bitter resentment and dormant wrath likely festered in the deepest recesses of its soul.

And yet, Karen still resolved to unseal Kevin.

It was born neither of mercy nor of sentiment, but rather because his own retinue was already meager; if he failed to maintain a rule of clear rewards and punishments, the flock would become utterly impossible to lead.

Since the seal was structured layer by layer, he would unravel it layer by layer, ensuring his absolute dominance could suppress it at every turn.

Compared to the awkward predicament of being "venerated" out of existence should his own identity be exposed, Kevin’s exposure would inevitably bring down the ruthless suppression of the orthodox churches, meaning Karen had no fear of the hound leaping the wall to betray him.

At that moment, Kevin, crouching on his haunches, seemed to sense something amiss, his gaze drifting repeatedly toward the writing desk, though he maintained his warm, genial golden-retriever smile.

Karen began to examine the details further down, noting that the true method for lifting the seal commenced from the second stage; from the second to the tenth step, spanning nine phases in total, Mr. Hoffen had effectively provided a series of equations, leaving Karen with nothing to do but apply the formulas systematically, solving the riddle step by step.

Yet at the conclusion of each method, a postscript from Mr. Hoffen had been appended:

"Step Two... have you truly thought this through?"

"Step Three... I think you might want to give this some proper reconsideration?"

"Step Four... he is an evil god, after all!"

"Step Five... it is not too late to awaken to your senses!"

"..."

"Step Nine... are you truly determined to proceed like this?"

"Step Ten... you are about to fling open the cage for a demon!"

Having read through it all once, Karen stretched his limbs and idly turned to the final page, preparing to receive the last piece of advice from Mr. Hoffen.

Instead, the final page read:

"Because Ranyedal, prior to being sealed, was plucked by Dis first from your chest and then from his own, his soul... no, his medium of existence, as well as my seal upon him, was inevitably tainted by the aura of the Inmoles family.

Therefore, there is one last piece of good news to impart to you, young Karen: this grand array of mine can only be successfully undone if performed by someone bearing the true bloodline of the Inmoles family.

Furthermore, considering the enduring influence of the blood sacrifice Dis performed, there are only two individuals in this world capable of aiding our Lord Evil God in breaking the seal: aside from yourself, there is only Dis.

Of course, one cannot rule out certain exceedingly exceptional existences—such as those Supreme Beings you might perceive as if looking up into the heavens—who could undoubtedly dissolve my seal with ease, but the question remains: does the Lord Evil God dare seek their aid?

Please show this passage to him; I believe that since you have already resolved to unlock a portion of his seal, he must have attained the capacity to read words by now.

Lastly,

I must offer a greeting to our Lord Evil God,

Which is to say:

'To be a good dog is your only way out in this lifetime!'"

Karen rubbed his nose and picked up his teacup to take a sip of water, feeling that forcing Kevin to read this text was rather cruel to a dog.

But such was life; one had to endure setbacks and tribulations to grow mature, and if human life was so fraught with hardship, a canine existence could hardly expect to be spared.

Thus, Karen pointed to that very page of the notebook.

Alfred stepped forward, picked up the notebook, and seeing Karen nod, placed it directly before Kevin.

From the slight tilting and shifting of the hound's head, it was clear that it was indeed reading, and with meticulous care.

Upon reaching the final sentence, Kevin blinked, continued to lolled his tongue in a guileless smile, his tail still wagging rhythmically.

Alfred knelt down before Kevin and spoke:

"Whether you are sincere or merely biding your time, I only wish to remind you that you are facing the most precious opportunity of your existence.

The Great Existence shall manifest to you his mercy and the vastness of his magnanimous heart,

Which has nothing to do with whether you are a golden retriever or Ranyedal; even if you were a stray dog sitting in this position, you would still be bathed in the radiance shed by the Great Existence.

The heavens and the earth are not benevolent; they treat all things as straw dogs."

"..." Kevin remained silent.

"Can you perceive the profound meaning within these words?" Alfred inquired.

Kevin nodded, then shook his head.

Alfred smiled faintly:

"It matters not, truly. I only wish to tell you that your submission, your endurance, including your betrayal and your resentment, are of no consequence to the Great Existence.

Whatever your actions, the ultimate outcome they produce will remain identical;

Which is to say, the great glory shall shine only more brilliantly!

Your choice will merely dictate your future standing.

Shall you be banished forever into the void of eternal darkness,

Or,

In a corner of the sacred fresco, attain a place that belongs to you?"

Kevin stared fixedly at Alfred,

Yet Alfred had already risen to his feet, turning to face Karen who sat behind the desk:

"Master, the materials are prepared. Shall you begin upon waking tomorrow, or commence right now?"

"Now," Karen replied. "I shall rest after it is complete."

Sleep had always been of great importance to Karen; he preferred to face each new day with the abundant energy of a fresh awakening.

"Very well, Master, please wait a quarter of an hour; I shall arrange everything."

"Mhm."

Alfred stepped out of the study and headed toward the storeroom.

Karen, meanwhile, rose and walked into the bedroom.

Purr lay curled beneath the blanket, snoring softly in a deep, sweet slumber.

Alfred had mentioned that the cat had been so excited today that she used her newly recovered sliver of ability to stoke the boiler, only to end up completely exhausting herself;

Visualizing this scene, an irrepressible smile curled the corners of Karen’s lips.

Before long, rustling sounds echoed from the study; Karen walked back to find that Alfred had already established the ritual environment.

Kevin sat squarely in the center, his smile vanished, looking somewhat solemn and rather tense.

Before the hound stood a small stool with a backrest, which Alfred had specially arranged for Karen.

Karen took his seat upon the stool, and Alfred moved two small side tables closer, placing the notebook upon the left-hand table, and a glass of ice water, a plate of dark chocolate, and a plate of cream pastries upon the right-hand one.

Anticipating that the process would take some time, Alfred had thoughtfully prepared everything for his master in advance.

Notebook in hand, Karen began from the second step, proceeding strictly according to instructions.

Gradually, the array surrounding Kevin began to flow with a faint luster. Karen kept the notebook in his left hand while extending his right forward, continuously beckoning his fingers toward Kevin.

It was akin to solving a complex mathematical problem; even if the formulas and procedural steps were laid bare before you, brushing aside the rustiness of initial contact, the foundational calculations still required one's own labor, meaning the process naturally could not be rushed.

As Karen delved deeper layer by layer, halos exuding the aura of Principle surfaced one after another upon Kevin's body.

When these halos emerged, the figure of that old man, the remnant of Light, materialized in a corner of the study.

This was the first time Alfred had ever "seen" the old man, yet he had long been aware of his existence, and now he offered a slight nod: "Hello."

The old man returned the nod: "Hello."

Promptly, the old man moved a fraction closer to the ritual, observing silently, and Alfred took a few paces forward to stand beside him.

"I cannot influence any of you, rest assured. I exist only in thought, and what I can influence is merely thought. Do you truly think I could influence him?"

The old man gestured toward Karen, who sat there entirely focused on the steps of the array.

"To be able to exchange thoughts with the Young Master is your blessing."

"No, it is contamination," the old man said without the slightest evasion. "I am already doubting."

What he doubted was his own faith.

"To be guided by the Young Master and to glimpse the truly clear path ahead is your grand fortune."

"I am merely an imprint of thought. I am not myself, nor can I affect the true me."

"The heavens and the earth are not benevolent, treating all creation as straw dogs."

Alfred uttered this line from the quotations once more, not because he was short of words, but because he felt it particularly fitting for the occasion.

Previously it had been said to a dog; this time it was said to an imprint of thought. Neither counted as human, and the latter was not even a living being.

"Straw dogs, what does that refer to?" the old man inquired.

"I understand it as a kind of... offering used by people for sacrifice under a specific cultural background."

"An offering? Then the heavens and the earth, do they refer to gods?"

"Yes, but I am more inclined to believe it is a title far grander than gods—at least, it should be the collective will of the deities."

"I see. This phrase possesses great flavor, yet it is also highly subversive, for the propaganda of every church binds its respective god and believers in an intimate relationship.

I recall that the people of the Church of Principle once devised a theory, treating divinity as a single point and a vast plane.

This exposition of yours stands an entire tier higher than the theory of those folks from the Church of Principle.

Very well, I find it quite comforting, for I, surprisingly like my main body, am also referred to as a straw dog.

Alas, I can already sense my faith peeling away, and along with it, my very sense of self-identity."

"It is the Young Master who allowed a fresh version of you to be born, granting you a self."

The old man looked at Alfred with a hint of astonishment, and then, instinctively, he perceived a creeping sense of crisis.

For he had a premonition that in the future, he might very well tend toward transforming into the likeness of this man clad in a red suit standing before him.

Thus, the old man immediately chose to divert the topic, pointing at Kevin in the center of the ritual:

"This dog, is there something sealed within its body?"

"Yes."

"What is sealed?"

"An evil god."

"Ah?"

"The evil god—Ranedal."

"Uh..."

The old man's expression grew somewhat exaggerated, as though he had utterly forgotten how remarkably composed he had been during his very first appearance.

"So, what is being done now?"

"The Young Master is personally unsealing the evil god."

"I did not mishear?"

"You did not."

"He hasn't gone mad?" the old man asked once more, his expression shifting from exaggeration to a frozen stillness. "Or has this thought imprint of mine become distorted and begun to hallucinate?"

Alfred smiled gently. "In the eyes of the Young Master, both you and this evil god are but straw dogs."

"Oh."

The old man responded numbly, his silhouette fracturing into large patches of distortion, his voice turning erratic as well:

"I still... firmly believe in... the Great Light... the God of Light."

Alfred replied:

"But the God of Light is too far from you, whereas the Young Master has always been right before your eyes."

"You speak... very truly..."

The old man's figure began to dissipate. The duration of his appearances was growing shorter each time, yet the shock he endured each time grew heavier.

At this moment,

Karen's steps to undo Kevin's seal had entered a critical phase.

Kevin, along with the entity residing within him, completely opened his mental defenses to Karen at this juncture.

Under such circumstances, with the two soul auras in such close proximity, the stronger side could often glimpse certain memories buried deep within the other's soul. Out of professional habit, Karen did not refuse this opportunity.

...

"Crash..."

"Crash..."

The sound of surging waves echoed continuously.

Karen found himself standing upon a sandy beach. On a reef ahead of him sat the silhouette of a man. Karen walked over, climbed onto the reef, and stood beside him.

Then, Karen saw that on the other side of the shore blocked by the reef lay a colossal harbor, wherein numerous pirate ships were moored.

The harbor was densely packed, crowded with an immense throng of people.

Following this, Karen saw a woman dressed in a long white gown, escorted by the crowd, walk to the edge of the harbor. She boarded a small boat entirely on her own.

Upon the shore, the women all knelt down toward her, beginning to chant and praise.

All around, the fierce and brutal pirates fell uncharacteristically silent at this moment.

The small boat bearing the woman began to drift into the deep ocean, and a soft white glow gradually emanated from her body, resembling a gentle moon that had descended into the sea.

In the depths of the ocean, a wall of water suddenly rose up, climbing higher and higher until it nearly blocked out the sun behind it, plunging the harbor into darkness.

Yet the moon represented by the woman completed the replacement of light at this very instant.

Within the wall of water, a gargantuan maw appeared, looking as though it could swallow everything in this world.

The woman's boat drifted into that gaping maw.

In an instant,

The maw snapped shut, the light dissolved, as if everything before had been a mere illusion, yet from the heavens, rain began to fall.

From the harbor, the weeping of women echoed.

The man beside Karen turned toward the sea at that moment,

And spoke:

"I swear, one day in the future, I will bring about the demise of the Sea God Cult, and I will make the Sea God... fall!"

...

The memory fragments ended there, and a cluster of light rings appeared within Karen's vision—twelve rings in total, symbolizing the twelve layers of the seal.

Karen placed his hand upon the first ring of light, and before long, the first ring dissipated.

Immediately after,

Karen voluntarily ended the ritual, his consciousness returning to his own body, and as he opened his eyes, he did not see a golden retriever ecstatic over the partial shattering of its seal, but rather Kevin, prostrate on the floor, his eyes pooling with tears.

The hound hid its head beneath its paws, burying itself as deeply as it possibly could.

Karen said nothing, merely gesturing to Alfred that he could dismantle the arrangements.

Then, Karen stepped out of the study and into the washroom to begin his bath.

The warm water cascading over his body caused Karen to inadvertently recall the images he had just witnessed through Kevin.

That woman sitting in the small boat, drifting into the mouth of the sea—was she the Goddess Mills?

Ranyedal's lover was the Goddess Mills?

According to the records Karen had unearthed:

For the survival of the prostitutes on the islands, and to protect them, the Goddess Mills had willingly journeyed into the depths of the ocean to be swallowed by the sea, becoming the paramour of the Sea God; from then on, a rule emerged among the pirate factions:

No matter the circumstance, one must never default on money owed to a prostitute!

Otherwise, when you set sail, the moon would whisper the news of your voyage to the ocean, and the waves would capsize your vessel, swallowing everything you possessed.

This was the pact the Goddess Mills had struck with the Sea God; after all, the only force capable of striking terror into those lawless pirates was the sea itself.

Thus, in a strict sense, the Goddess Mills was not a principal deity; the orthodox churches did not even recognize her as a true goddess, viewing her more as a subordinate divinity tethered to the Sea God's flank.

Yet later, with the collapse of the fundamentalist Sea God Cult, faith in the orthodox Sea God began to fracture, and the Goddess Mills, who had once been a mere subordinate deity, gradually stepped into the foreground;

Her devotees were no longer confined to the island prostitutes serving the pirates, but spread across the entire continent.

Was the collapse of the Sea God Cult the handiwork of his own dog?

But then, for what reason had he been branded a heresy by the Church of Order and subsequently sealed away?

Finishing his bath, Karen walked out of the washroom and climbed into bed; after tucking in the corner of Pu'er's blanket, he switched off the light and closed his eyes.

Beneath the shroud of night,

A dog sat upon the roof of the funeral parlor, its head tilted upward, gazing at the moon in the sky;

It craned its neck,

It opened its jaws,

Yet there was no long howl, nor any frantic barking,

Instead, it extended a paw, clawing tentatively toward the heavens, grasping nothing at all.

Somewhat helplessly, it crouched down, turning onto its side; lying on the roof, it seemed at this moment to be resting side by side with the moon.

A dense hatred and unwilling resentment surfaced in its eyes, only to dissolve into a lingering desolation and exhaustion;

At last,

It reached out its canine paw once more, mimicking a gesture a certain member of the household often performed for the family cat at night;

And for the moon in the sky, it tucked in the corner of the blanket;

Gently uttering a call:

"Woof~"