Chapter 201: Acting

Chapter 201: Act One

"You misunderstand your father's intentions. While the Church of Pamireth is not a massive congregation, the mantle of its Hierarch is not so easily assumed.

The prerequisite ritual before ascending to the throne requires entering the 'Messenger Space' of Pamireth, where one undergoes the baptism of inheritance, thoroughly suffused with the insights and memories of every past Hierarch.

If you truly undergo this process,

Delius,

will you still be yourself?"

"Are you questioning my loyalty to the God of Order?"

"I do not doubt your loyalty to the God of Order, but the you of that moment will no longer be Delius. Indeed, you could hardly even be considered human."

"So, Father, should I thank you instead? Thank you for rescuing me in the nick of time, while I am still myself?"

"You are my son and a devoted believer in the Holy Church. Whether as a father or as a Bishop of the Church, I will protect you to the utmost of my ability."

"Heh..."

Delius released his grip on Bishop Bourne’s collar, walked back to the sofa, and sat down.

Bishop Bourne continued, "The negotiations will proceed as normal. You still need to carry yourself as the true Holy Son of Pamireth, fighting for as much autonomy as possible for them during this merger. Once the treaty terms are accepted by those old fogies in the Pamireth Church and the 'Messenger Space' is opened to our Temple of Order, your sacred mission will be truly complete.

Your name, your contributions, your very image—all will be enshrined in the history of the Holy Church."

"You don't need to tell me that. I know what to do."

"Good, I have always been reassured by your capabilities."

Bishop Bourne turned his gaze toward Karen and said, "It is time for me to leave."

"Of course, Your Grace."

Karen opened the door for Bishop Bourne and accompanied him to the elevator. While waiting, Karen had thought the Bishop would specifically instruct him on something, perhaps regarding confidentiality, but he did not.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing Richard standing inside.

Bishop Bourne stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed.

When Karen walked back to the room's entrance, he saw Peg standing there. "My apologies, Karen, but you need to make another trip. The food and drinks have arrived."

"Is a team leader responsible for this sort of thing?" Karen asked.

"Yes, it is standard procedure. Don't worry, the Captain and the others have already inspected the food and drinks beforehand. You just need to receive them. Vanny did it last time; this time, you're the team leader after all."

Karen nodded and walked back to the elevator. The doors opened, and Richard pushed the dining cart out, solemnly handing it over to Karen as if transferring a divine relic.

"Keep a sharp eye on the surroundings, do not slack off," Karen added to the performance.

"Yes, understood!"

Richard marched into the elevator with resolute steps, spun around with a sharp click of his heels, and stood perfectly straight.

Karen pushed the dining cart into Delius's room and found the Holy Son sitting on the sofa, staring blankly into space.

It seemed he had quite lost his appetite.

If the Holy Son truly said as much, Karen would not hesitate to push the cart back to his own room.

"Your meal has arrived, please enjoy."

Delius stood up, walked over to the cart, pulled a bottle of red wine from the bottom shelf, opened it himself with a corkscrew, and returned to the sofa.

"Drink with me. I am not accustomed to drinking with women."

"My apologies, but while on duty, it is inconvenient for me to drink alcohol. However, I can substitute it with another beverage."

Delius nodded. "Very well."

Karen fetched two glasses from the cabinet. He placed one in front of Delius for the wine, and into the other, he added ice cubes and poured water.

Delius took a sip, swirled the wine in his glass, glanced at Karen, and said,

"I envy you."

"Envy that I can openly praise Order?"

"Yes." Delius sighed. "For the past twenty years, this is a dream I have frequently had. In a grand public setting, I wish I could place both hands over my chest and shout at the top of my lungs: Praise Order."

With that, Delius tapped the rim of his glass with his fingernail, producing a crisp ring.

"Do you find this ridiculous?"

"No. What we take for granted may very well be what others yearn for in their dreams. Such things are, in fact, quite common."

"True. My status as the Holy Son is something many would envy. Tell me, do you envy it?"

Karen assumed a serious expression. "Are you questioning my loyalty to the God of Order?"

"No, that's not it."

Delius rested his hand against his forehead. He had only taken a single sip of wine, yet he looked as though he were intoxicated.

"My apologies, I should not have answered you in that manner," Karen said. "In truth, I admire you. I admire your dedication and your sacrifice."

"Is that so."

"Yes. I believe the great God of Order will look upon your sacrifices with favor. After all, His gaze is omnipresent."

"Mmh." Delius sighed, setting his glass down on the coffee table. "I am tired."

Tired already? Didn't he want to drink and chat with me? Is it over just like that? There shouldn't have been anything wrong with my responses.

Since that was the case,

"Please rest well."

Karen stood up and added,

"For the sake of your health, please eat a little something."

"I have no appetite, I just want to rest."

"Then I shall wheel this out for you, lest the aroma disturb your sleep."

Delius nodded.

Karen pushed the dining cart back outside.

"Aha!" Peg said, watching Karen roll the cart out. "You haven't lost that tradition of yours."

Vanny walked over, glanced at the food on the cart, and remarked, "The culinary standards here are exceptionally high."

The standards were naturally tailored to the guest's status.

Since Bishop Bourne had not explicitly ordered him to keep it a secret, Karen directly recounted what he had seen and heard to Vanny and Peg.

"How astonishing. To think the Holy Son of Pamireth is actually one of our own," Peg murmured in wonder.

"This is probably what makes our Church so terrifying," Vanny said.

Karen noted that Vanny had used the adjective "terrifying," whereas normally, one would expect a commendatory term like "powerful."

Then again, it was only natural. The atmosphere of Neo’s squad had never been particularly orthodox.

"What I find even stranger is that the Bishop didn't require me to keep it confidential," Karen voiced his confusion.

"Because there is no need. This Son of God will certainly not be leaving the hotel, and even if he requested an excursion, it would be denied; naturally, we cannot leave the Ankara Hotel either before the negotiations conclude successfully.

Moreover, our squad's contact with the outside world has surely been severed as well."

At this moment, Peige reached out to touch the blue seashell hanging by her ear and said:

"The captain has issued a command for squad silence."

That explained everything. It meant their squad, much like this Delius, was effectively imprisoned during the negotiations, only to be released upon their completion; thus, there had been no need for Bishop Bourne to demand his discretion.

Those who knew were all within this hotel anyway.

When negotiations ended... and the Messenger Space opened to the Temple of Order, that would mean a complete stranglehold on the core of the Pamireth Cult, with no further need to worry about their vacillation?

"Then this mission will be quite easy," Karen said with a smile.

"That is why security details are so popular among the Whiplash of Order squads," Fanni remarked. "Those with a need to go out midway, like Miss Ophelia last time, are the exception."

Karen went to the washroom to take a shower, changed into the hotel pajamas, and lay down on the bed.

Peige and Fanni were sitting opposite each other by the French window, drinking juice... yet Karen detected the heavy scent of alcohol; these two women had poured liquor into the juice bottles, as if that somehow bypassed the security regulations.

However, it was normal enough... since there could be no outside missions and their own squad was in a state of silence, with the captain and the others protecting the floors above and below, their close-protection security team truly had nothing left to do; drinking a little alcohol was no great matter.

If they were to encounter any danger at all, it would have to be an attacker launching an assault on the entire Ankara Hotel.

Karen closed his eyes; even though he had slept for most of the day, he still felt a wave of drowsiness overcome him now.

Upon waking, Karen glanced at the wall clock; he had only slept for three hours, and there was still some time before dawn, but his energy was as full as it could possibly be, making further sleep impossible.

As he rose, his hand pressed against a soft spot, and looking down, he saw that it had indeed landed on the backside of Peige, who was sleeping beside him.

Karen withdrew his hand, pulled the blanket over her, and stepped out of bed.

Fanni, who was on night watch, sat on the sofa reading a newspaper; seeing Karen awake, she smiled and said, "You do not need to keep watch, my group leader."

"I simply cannot sleep."

Karen sat down on the sofa.

"Then shall I go to sleep?"

"Yes, go on."

Fanni set down the newspaper, walked over to Karen, leaned down, and brushed the tip of her nose against his cheek:

"Do you know? The last time we stayed here, Peige and I toyed with you like you were a little colt."

"And now?"

"Now we are carefully teasing you as if you were a wild wolf; the feeling is completely different. Last time it was amusing, this time it is thrilling."

With that, Fanni removed the blue seashell from her ear and placed it onto Karen's.

Karen smiled faintly, took a sip from the water glass on the coffee table, and picked up the newspaper Fanni had just set down, asking casually:

"By the way, why is the dining cart still here?"

"The captain said they did not require an extra meal today," Fanni said as she climbed into bed.

About two hours passed; it remained dark outside the French window, but dawn was already brewing.

Karen stood up and walked over to the dining cart to retrieve some food when he suddenly heard a bell ring.

It was Delius calling from the room opposite; was he awake as well?

Karen opened the door, walked over to the opposite entrance, knocked first, and then opened it, but the moment his foot stepped inside, a sudden alarm flared in his heart, though nothing appeared amiss in the room.

Yet, compared to the apparent normalcy before him, Karen preferred to trust his intuition.

Consequently, without even entering the foyer, he immediately took two steps back out of the room, closing the door with his right hand while placing his left hand on the blue seashell at his ear, prepared to notify the captain.

However, before the door could latch shut, a hand thrust through the gap and gripped Karen's collar.

Subsequently, Delius's face appeared through the crack of the door, staring at Karen.

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Please let go first, my Lord."

Delius released his grip; Karen noticed that within the doorway, his complexion was somewhat ashen, and his originally golden hair looked as though it had just been stained with a thick layer of cement dust.

"Heh heh."

A slightly eerie laughter issued from Delius's throat as he let go.

Pretending to straighten his collar, Karen took another two steps backward.

At that moment, the door was pushed completely open from within, and Karen saw Delius behind it; he was not standing, but had his hands braced against both sides of the foyer, maintaining a bizarre posture with his face down and his legs upward.

"You may certainly notify your people first, but please do it quickly; I need you to do me a favor."

Karen channeled a bit of spiritual power into the seashell and tapped it rapidly three times with his finger.

This blue seashell artifact possessed only a one-way transmission function; the captain could issue orders to his members through it, but the members could not reply with voice, able only to feed back a few simple messages to the captain through the small vibrations of such taps.

"Are you ready?" Delius asked. "Come in!"

"I am coming," the captain's voice emerged from the seashell.

Karen nodded to Delius, who immediately turned and scrambled inside along the wall like a spider; Karen followed him in and saw a small blue tray on the coffee table, covered by a layer of luster that resembled a miniature barrier, within which a dozen black granules floated.

"Take one out and give it to me, quickly!" Delius urged.

The barrier was not powerful—indeed, it could be described as very weak, like a barrier designed by a divine servant—except for a slight aura of Order flowing on its outer layer; Karen dissolved his own aura of Order into it and quickly mastered the array.

With that, the barrier was dissolved by Karen.

"Buzz!"

Delius swept past like a gust of wind, pinching a black granule in his hand and tossing it into his mouth.

"Ah..."

It was not a scream of agony, but rather a long, comfortable sigh.

With his hands and feet gripping the walls, his face and hips arched, his countenance was entirely filled with an expression of intense pleasure.

In the light of day, Karen truly could never have imagined that the Son of God of the Pamireth Cult would possess such a side.

"Thud!"

Like a gecko suddenly losing its adhesion to the wall, Delius fell from the wall onto the sofa, yet his hands and feet maintained the same posture as before on the wall; at this moment, he resembled an overturned turtle.

Neo's figure appeared beside Karen at that instant, the captain's face concealed behind a silver mask.

"Captain, what is wrong with him?" Karen asked.

"Poisoned," Neo replied.

"Poisoned?"

Neo reached out and placed his hand upon Delius's abdomen.

Delius snapped his eyes open, glaring at Neo.

"I will help you suppress its reaction," Neo said.

A look of doubt surfaced in Delius's gaze, but he closed his eyes once more.

A dark radiance emanated from Neo’s palm, pressing into Darius’s body, causing his limbs to tighten once more as he fought the instinct to curl into a ball.

Standing beside them, Cullen clearly saw a protrusion in Darius’s abdomen, moving as if possessed by some vital spark.

The black luster within Neo’s palm began to swirl, forcing the entity hidden inside Darius’s belly to shift.

With this movement, the ashen hue on Darius’s face and hair began to recede, and his stiffened hands and feet finally relaxed.

At last, he let out a long breath.

The bulge in his stomach vanished.

Neo withdrew his hand and stood up.

“Captain, what was that thing?”

“A bug. He is using his own body to raise a bug.”

Darius had sat up by now, though cold sweat still poured from him.

Neo picked up the small blue tray, which was actually a medicine bottle with an internal barrier that could be opened when needed.

“Inside are granules of Dark Soul Shark essence blood, meant to feed the bug in his body; when it hungers, it wakes, and once it stirs, the host suffers.

The issue lies with this bottle; its minor barrier is usually fine, but the Ankara Hotel is enveloped in a massive guardian array that instinctively probes all internal seals.

Infused with this scent of Order, you couldn't open it normally; forcing it would have shattered the barrier and destroyed the granules.”

Darius spoke up: “You know quite a lot. Yes, when it wakes, my spiritual power cannot be channeled; it gets devoured before it can even leave my body.”

“Why not take it earlier?” Neo asked. “Did the array here stimulate the bug?”

“No, a sudden surge in my own emotions today woke it up unexpectedly.”

“Then you haven't mastered it yet, nor built a mental bridge; otherwise, you could have pacified it through spiritual reassurance.”

“Not yet, because I cannot do it for now.” Darius looked at Neo. “Can you guess what bug this is?”

“The Worm of Space—Semis.”

“Indeed, that is it.”

“You shouldn't have swallowed it. You can fool everyone in the Pamires Faith, but not the creature inside you. It seems you lack a mental bridge not from inability, but fear—fear that it will glimpse your true faith.”

“Yet to become a Divine Son, one must first swallow this worm. So, I can only use feed to appease it at intervals.”

Neo remarked: “Whether consuming shark blood or enduring its periodic awakenings, the pain is beyond ordinary tolerance.”

Darius smiled: “No matter the agony, I will not submit to it. If forced to alter my innermost faith for Pamires, I would rather die.”

Cullen found the words familiar, reminding him of old Saman in the Ivy Cemetery.

“Rest well. We will protect you here.”

Darius nodded: “Thank you.”

Neo stepped out of the room, and Cullen followed, closing the door behind them.

Each room possessed its own restriction; once the door shut, it became isolated, blocking out any outside commotion.

Neo spoke: “Tonight, the food and drinks in the dining cart were drugged.”

“Drugged?!!!”

“Harmless to humans, but it stimulates the Worm of Space. Go back to rest; I must report that he hasn't formed a mental connection with the worm.”

Cullen lingered in place.

Neo walked a few steps, then turned back to Cullen:

“I don't blame you for pushing the cart out. After all, if the food and drink posed a real threat, I would have warned you beforehand.”

“But if you knew it was harmless, Captain, why did you skip tonight's meal?”

“Well, not knowing is one thing, but knowing—even if harmless—ruins the appetite. Why? Do you suspect there is a bug inside me too?”

“No, Captain, how could that be?”

How could a hound be indifferent to harmless food?

This was a captain who would gladly accept plastic rings for free, never missing a chance to exploit a benefit.

“Get some rest. A rare easy mission—take it as a vacation.”

With that, Neo turned and continued toward the elevator.

“Captain...” Cullen called out.

Neo stopped again, glancing back at Cullen: “Is there something else?”

“Darius might have mistaken me for the captain of this Whip of Order squad today.”

“And?”

“He specifically invited me for drinks and took a sip of red wine right in front of me. Looking back, it felt a bit deliberate.

Therefore, I suspect Darius knew all along that the food was drugged.”