Chapter 295: Something Went Wrong

Chapter 295: Something Has Gone Wrong

Count Recal chewed on the words, asking in confusion:

"But gods truly exist, do they not?"

Old Saman spoke: "The godlessness here does not imply a disbelief in their existence, but rather that these gods are not worthy of devotion, unlike the absolute Truth."

Count Recal looked toward Old Saman and asked, "How do you know so much?"

Old Saman rolled his eyes at Count Recal, replying with open disdain, "I have listened to the quotations for many more days than you."

"From that same valet?"

"Indeed."

"I never had the chance to finish listening, and much of what I heard eluded my understanding. It felt as though it had been translated from another tongue, laden with far too many allegorical layers."

"It matters not. It is only natural for the elderly to be slow of comprehension. I, a young man, can instruct you."

"Heh," Count Recal said, clapping a hand upon Old Saman’s shoulder. "Very well, very well. I do like the sound of that, young man."

Old Saman then turned his gaze back to Cullen, inquiring, "Is the defining characteristic of your Inmemis family's belief system truly nothing more than 'learning'?"

Evidently, in Old Saman’s view, a collection of so many disparate faiths piled together like a general store could hardly be encompassed by a word as mild as "learning."

Count Recal spoke: "In my younger days, when I commanded the high seas, I would often join forces with the Wien navy to breach the military harbors of foreign nations. Do you know what those blood-frenzied sailors and soldiers would do once the gates were breached?"

Old Saman replied, "I can well imagine."

"You might venture an adjective."

Old Saman shook his head. "I dare not."

"Very well," Count Recal nodded in understanding. "Yet the newspapers and propaganda machines of Wien at the time proclaimed that we had brought civilization to those unrefined savages, allowing them the privilege of learning our advanced culture."

"Ah, I see."

"You are young, and your experience is brief. This is something you must cultivate slowly. To press the matter to its absolute bottom would be unseemly."

Cullen watched the two men trade barbs, disinclined to interrupt their banter.

In any case, within his own mind, the family belief system handed down by his grandfather was indeed defined by "learning." How could any member of the Inmemis house ever be a brigand? As for the sheer abundance of things within the household, they had not been plundered, but gathered through the earnest process of learning.

"Very well, it is time I departed," Cullen said, rising from his seat to take his leave.

Old Saman stood up and said, "Our thanks to you for taking time from your pressing schedule to visit us."

Count Recal added, "Our thanks to you for sparing a moment to see us while visiting my descendant, my granddaughter."

A dark vortex materialized before Cullen; he stepped into its depths, and the anomaly vanished.

Old Saman looked at Count Recal and asked, "That fiancée of his is your descendant?"

"Precisely," Count Recal said, tilting his chin up intentionally.

"Why then are they not yet wed, and why are there no heirs?"

"Because that young girl of my line awakened her bloodline, requiring a half-year slumber to digest its power. Once that digestion is complete, she shall..."

"To be carted off as a Sleeping Beauty instead of marrying posthaste to breed? What genius of an idiot conceived such an arrangement?"

Count Recal: "..."

...

Cullen opened his eyes and stepped out of the performance hall. A light rain had begun to fall outside, and Borg stood ready, holding an umbrella aloft to shelter him.

Upon entering the castle, no servant arrived to inform him of Eunice’s waking, which meant she remained fast asleep.

Cullen did not disturb her slumber. Instead, he ascended to the third floor, entered the study, and took his place behind the desk.

Borg brought in coffee and tea before withdrawing from the study to stand attendance outside.

Cullen pulled open a drawer. He recalled having left several books here, and the residents of the Allen Estate would never disturb anything he left behind.

Inside the drawer, however, were several new photographs and a painting.

In the photographs, Alfred sat before a grave, holding a notebook in his hands like a priest delivering a sermon.

The painting depicted the very same scene, though it employed considerable artistic hyperbole; a divine luster had been painted over Alfred, making him appear far more sacred, as though he were the earthly vessel broadcasting the voice of a deity.

Upon the grave, subtle shifts in color lent the impression that the occupant within was being summoned, hovering on the precipice of awakening.

Before his departure for the Dark Moon Island, Alfred had been tasked with transporting Old Saman’s coffin back, as well as arranging the formation within the Allen Estate's performance hall and preparing the remaining coffins, empty though they currently were.

Cullen had warned Alfred that Count Recal might not be easily awakened by his efforts alone, suggesting it would be wiser to wait until his own return to transfer the Count's coffin.

Yet upon his return, the report Alfred delivered stated that everything in the performance hall had already been settled.

Learning this had left Cullen mildly astonished.

Alfred had explained that he had simply read Cullen's own quotations aloud to Count Recal, which ultimately moved the Count to wake of his own volition and choose a new place to rest.

Cullen did not credit this explanation, even with the photographs and the painting laid before him.

Was it because Alfred’s "voice" ability had already advanced to a degree that it could penetrate such mediums?

Ever since leaving Rulan for Wien, Alfred had become an almost indispensable presence in Cullen's life; strictly speaking, no one could refuse the convenience of having an Alfred by their side.

Yet Cullen had still overlooked Alfred’s personal progression. Having shed every trace of his aberrant demon aura, his faculties of listening and vocal authority had experienced a tremendous elevation.

This "tremendous" had always remained a vague approximation in Cullen's mind.

Looking at it now, however, the advancement of Alfred’s capabilities had shattered his previous estimates.

Constrained by the fact that he was still working for the Whip of Order squad, his valet had found little room to stretch his limbs of late, rarely needing to engage in combat and serving primarily as a butler.

This was undoubtedly why Alfred wished to consolidate the disparate aberrant demon factions within York City; he, too, yearned to act, to find an outlet for his utility.

Cullen reached up, gently pinching the bridge of his nose.

As the leader of a small cabal, while one enjoyed the support and convenience the group provided, one also had to shoulder the burden of orchestrating the advancement of its members.

It appeared an elevation in rank was indeed required.

If he could form his own Whip of Order squad, then everyone within the funerary society would have affairs to occupy them.

If only for this purpose, he was entirely determined to secure a spot in the selection for the Gates of Samsara.

To claim such a vacancy was to be recognized as one of the twelve most exceptional individuals of this generation; stepping into the captaincy of a Whip of Order squad with such credentials would leave him with influence to spare.

To rely on the slow accumulation of merit for promotion would simply take too long.

Even someone as exceptional as his captain had languished for a considerable duration in Sampur City.

Nevertheless, Cullen did not believe these photographs and the painting had been placed here at Alfred's behest to solicit favor; Alfred had long outgrown such clumsy overtures.

Yet it could not be ruled out that someone else, seeking to curry favor with Alfred, had made the arrangement.

Cullen pressed the desk bell.

Borg pushed open the study door and entered, carrying an insulated bucket. He opened it to reveal ice cubes and a pair of tongs. Setting the bucket down upon a corner of Cullen's desk, Borg took a step back:

"Master, what are your commands?"

"It is nothing."

"Understood, Master."

Karen picked up the tongs, dropped a few ice cubes into his water glass, and leaned back slightly to the right, swirling the glass as he gazed out the study window into the vast expanse of the night.

As he watched, exhaustion gradually washed over him.

Karen set the glass back on the desk, crossed his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes.

When he slept until the sky outside was turning a faint grey, Karen heard a knock at the door, opened his eyes, let out a yawn, and pressed the desk bell.

Borg pushed the door open and reported to Karen:

"Young Master, Miss Eunice is awake."

"Alright, I understand."

Karen first walked into the bedroom, only to find that Purr and Kevin were not there; they should be setting up the array through the night.

After a brief wash, Karen walked out of the bedroom and came to Eunice's room on the second floor, where the two maids at the door were led away by Borg, and Karen pushed the door open to enter.

"Mm..."

Eunice had just finished her bath and walked out in her pajamas, her hair still wet.

"I told them to call you in a little while."

"But I couldn't wait."

Karen stepped forward, took the towel from Eunice's hand, and began to help her dry her hair.

Eunice spoke up: "Next time you come back, just wake me up directly, don't wait."

"I like waiting."

After helping Eunice dry her hair, Karen sat down on the sofa, the doorbell rang, and Eunice walked over to bring in a tray with breakfast on it.

Karen picked up a glass of milk and took a sip, and Eunice peeled an egg and brought it to Karen's lips, Karen took a bite, then reached out to take it.

"I made some clothes for you." Eunice stood up, "I'll bring them out for you to try on."

"Eat breakfast first," Karen said.

Eunice nodded and sat back down to continue her breakfast.

Karen stopped after eating two eggs and a piece of bread, having woken up in the middle of sleep, his appetite was not very good.

Eunice also finished quickly and looked at Karen with anticipation: "Shall I go get the clothes?"

"I'll go with you."

Karen stood up and walked into the cloakroom with Eunice.

Eunice brought out three pieces of clothing, one was a black robe of the Order, one was a coffee-colored trench coat, and one was a thin blazer jacket.

"You made all of these?" Karen said, quite surprised.

"Yes, it's actually not hard, sometimes I even design the styles in my dreams while sleeping, and can put them into practice immediately upon waking up, of course, I have a few helpers making them with me.

It's just that I heard the robes of the Holy Church are usually embedded with arrays, which I cannot do."

"I have always felt that the arrays in the robes are quite a burden, clothes should just fit comfortably next to the skin." Karen took off his outer coat and put on the robe, the silk was very comfortable, especially at the collar, where the details were designed very thoughtfully.

Walking to the mirror to take a look, a smile curled at the corner of Karen's mouth as he said:

"I think you could totally open a garment shop in York City in the future."

"But I have no interest in making clothes, I only like making clothes for you."

"Then set up a separate studio at home, specifically to make clothes for me, there are plenty of empty rooms in the backyard of the funeral parlor."

"That works."

"Oh, right, Mr. Pavaro's two daughters are also learning painting and design now, they can be your helpers."

"But, have you already arranged their future for them? Sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

"I know, but unless the illness on them can be completely eradicated, a protected and comfortable life is already their most precious and cherished thing."

"Yes, they are so pitiful, I have gifts prepared for them, and according to what you mentioned last time about the people living in the funeral parlor, Mrs. Lake, your employees, I have prepared gifts for all of them."

"They will certainly be thrilled."

Karen knew that this was a way of claiming sovereignty, although she still had to stay at the Allen Manor for now, she eagerly longed to move into the backyard of the funeral parlor early to start a new life.

He tried on the remaining two pieces of clothing, and both fit perfectly.

"No alterations needed, I'll take them back to wear right away."

Karen walked over to the sofa and sat down, and as Eunice walked past him, Karen reached out and pulled her directly into his arms.

Eunice did not resist, but instead proactively reached out to wrap her arms around Karen's neck.

"Want to hear about the stories that happened to me recently?" Karen asked.

Eunice shook her head and said: "In the future, I want to experience them together by your side."

"Alright."

Eunice whispered: "Shall I go change my socks?"

Karen released his grip around her and said: "No rush."

Eunice bit her lower lip with her pearly teeth and asked: "Which kind do you want?"

"Can I choose for myself?"

"You can, in the very bottom drawer next to the mirror in the cloakroom."

"Alright."

Karen stood up, walked into the cloakroom again, and opened that drawer.

"Black, white, nude, fishnet..."

Karen suddenly felt that the home studio wouldn't need to be busy designing and making clothes in the future, it could design and produce stockings first, since they were for personal use anyway.

After a while, Karen returned to the small living room;

In his hands, he carried the entire drawer.

"I'm so sorry, I suddenly found that I seem to have a bit of a choice anxiety."

...

In the early morning, Purr sat on Kevin's back coming out of the basement, they had been busy setting up arrays in what was originally Mr. Bedd's art studio since finishing their midnight snack, setting up three arrays in total, one connecting to Dark Moon Island, one connecting to Corona Island, and the other connecting to the Pavaro Funeral Parlor.

They were all communication arrays, not teleportation ones, and even so, the people of the Allen Manor could not manage to set them up alone now, the decline of a family was bound to be comprehensive.

"Sigh~ finally finished."

Purr let out a yawn,

"Stupid dog, let's go back to the bedroom to rest, exhausted to death, meow."

At the top of the stairs, Purr saw Karen and Eunice just walking out together, mounting a tall and handsome white horse together.

Purr lamented: "Oh, the energy of young people is truly vigorous."

Kevin nodded in deep agreement: "Woof!"

"Speaking of which, stupid dog, have you ever fantasized about riding a horse together with your goddess?"

Kevin shook his head.

Purr extended a paw and slapped Kevin on the back of his head:

"Good-for-nothing."

…

In the late morning hours, Eunice fell asleep in Karen's arms, and he brought her back to the manor on horseback, carefully lifting her down before walking up the stairs.

After settling her onto the bedroom bed, Karen pulled the blanket over her and finally pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

In truth, she, like Count Recar and old Sarnan, was in a "prison" of her own.

While riding earlier, Karen had asked if she found it painful.

She said: Yes.

Just as Karen was preparing to offer some advice to ease her psychological distress,

she said:

"So, every day before I sleep and when I wake, I think of you once."

After standing by the bedside for a short while, Karen walked out of the bedroom and came to the third floor.

"Young Master, a call from Mr. Alfred."

Karen entered the study and picked up the receiver.

"Hello."

"Young Master, your captain called."

"Is there a mission?"

"He asked me to inform you that Captain Gendi's squad took on a cargo escort mission, and now, Gendi's squad has lost contact. Their last known location was on Corona Island."

"Corona Island?"

That was the island where Wood Allen resided, and the very place where Karen had first set foot before landing in York City. The Allen Manor owned a small town on that island dedicated exclusively to smuggling operations, which now also handled commercial trade with Dark Moon Island.

To some extent, that route was already backed by shares from the Church of Order, but relying on the prestige of Dark Moon Island, the Allen Manor was permitted to join in and skim some profits.

As for Mr. Wood, though he had only crossed paths with Karen once, he had left an exceptionally deep impression, particularly when he had thumped his chest right in front of Karen:

"The Allen family never fails to repay a kindness!"

He had even worried that the people of the manor would look down on Karen for being far from home, promising that if the family refused to marry Eunice to him, he would willingly marry his own daughter to Karen instead.

In short, he was a man possessing the old-fashioned values of a pirate.

"What did the captain say?"

"The captain said he knows the connection between that island and the Allen Manor, so he wanted to ask if you wished to handle this matter personally. If so, he can call upon a few people to organize a rescue and search squad. After all, Gendi can be considered half a subordinate of his."

So, because he was only half a subordinate, the captain lacked the motivation to initiate a rescue on his own, waiting instead for Karen to tip the scales?

Karen felt that this must be exactly what was on the captain's mind, for the captain, like himself, should be resting right now. During their last excursion to Dark Moon Island, the two most exhausted individuals were himself and the captain.

"Wait for me a moment."

"Very well, Young Master."

Karen hung up the telephone and instructed Borge to notify old Anderson and the others, while he himself walked into the master bedroom, reaching out to shake awake Purr, who had been fast asleep on the bed.

"What is it?" Purr asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Is the communication array fully set up? Can we contact Corona Island directly right now?"

"Yes, we can. They already have an array stone over there, so once we finished setting up our side, the connection could be established."

"Good, establish contact now."

"Is it that urgent? Can we not send a telegram or dispatch someone to make contact?"

"There might not be enough time."

"Oh, alright then."

Purr could only scramble out of bed. After all, Corona Island belonged to the Allen family, and those respectful calls of "Honored Ancestor" had not been uttered in vain.

By the time Karen went downstairs, old Anderson and Mr. Mac were already waiting.

"Young Master, has something happened on Corona Island?" old Anderson asked anxiously.

His eldest son was on that island. Now, with his second son crippled and his youngest son having run away from home to pursue art, the eldest son, who had originally been the least favored, had ironically become the most normal one.

"Has the manor had any contact with Corona Island recently?" Karen asked.

Mr. Mac replied: "According to our usual routine, the exchange of telegrams and letters has been normal, and the transfer of cargo has been standard as well."

Because Corona Island served as a smuggling transit point, it required a certain degree of isolation from the outside world. Running a direct telephone line there was impossible; they usually dispatched someone to the nearby shore to establish contact.

Karen nodded and led everyone down to the basement.

"Stupid dog, go calibrate it," Purr commanded.

Kevin stepped forward, using his dog paws with practiced familiarity to adjust the array, while nearby, old Anderson and Mr. Mac watched the dog, both swallowing hard almost simultaneously.

As a low-grade array crystal was dropped into the groove, the array activated.

A blue halo of light rose, forming an ellipse.

After about five minutes, Mr. Wood's voice drifted from the other side:

"Is the home array finally set up? I've had this array stone in my hands for ages."

Karen spoke up: "Mr. Wood, this is Karen. Is everything alright on your end?"

"Hmm? Karen? Hahaha, it's you, you rascal! When are you coming to the island to play again? You can't just sleep with my daughter Camilla once and shirk your responsibility."

"In a while. I am currently helping the family calibrate the communication array, and this time was to test its efficacy. It seems to work well."

"Yes, yes, I can hear you very clearly here, no problem at all. It will be much more convenient to contact home from now on, though the communication fee is more than just a little bit higher than a telegram."

"Alright, Mr. Wood. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Karen."

The array ceased operation, and the blue ellipse vanished.

Karen spoke:

"Something has happened on the island."

Old Anderson said immediately: "I will gather men at once."

Karen raised his hand and said, "No need. This matter involves the Whip of Order; we will handle it. I will return now to rendezvous with my captain and the others, aiming to land on Corona Island with the utmost speed."

Purr spoke up: "The stupid dog and I are coming too."

Karen responded: "I believe that perhaps leaving you here or sending you back home right now would be the better choice."

Purr asked: "Did you not say you wanted to land on the island with the utmost speed?"

"Yes."

"Then notify your captain and have him bring his men to meet us at Port Montost, midway between the Allen Manor and York City. Oh, and have the Radio Sprite transport our puppets here in the hearse. We will all assemble there."

"This way, it is much faster than driving back to York City and then boarding a ship at York Port pier. Moreover, from a straight-line perspective, the distance between Port Montost and Corona Island is even shorter."

Karen looked toward Old Anderson and asked, "How is it that I have never heard of Port Montost?"

Old Anderson replied immediately, "It used to be a small port, but it has been abandoned for decades."

Hearing this, Karen said to Puer, "An abandoned port means there are no ships."

Puer flicked his tail and countered with a question, "Karen, have you forgotten what you rode to get to Wien?"

"You intend to summon it?"

Puer nodded and said,

"Yes, I shall summon the sea beast, Aceroth!"

——

There will be more tonight.