Chapter 313: Determination!

Chapter 313: Resolution!

Cullen held the cup, gazing at the crystal-clear blue liquid within.

Believing Cullen was burdened by the thought of it, Purr tried to console him, saying, "It is fine. Just think of it as drinking fish sauce."

"You could choose not to make such wild analogies," Cullen replied.

"Oh, I am sorry, my dear little Cullen. I was only trying to help you, you know." Purr flicked her tail and continued, "True enough, you never seem to use fish sauce when you cook."

Alfred spoke up, "Young Master, your subordinate has already purified it. There are no impurities whatsoever; it is perfectly clean."

Cullen shook his head and said, "It is not that I feel disgusted. I simply feel that having absolutely no resistance in my heart seems a bit amiss, so I wanted to stir up a sense of aversion first."

Alfred came to a sudden realization and said, "So that is how it is."

Having said this, he instinctively reached into his pocket to draw out his notebook, but he managed to control himself. Recording the Young Master’s words and actions to his face was a form of disrespect, as though he were spying on him.

Cullen hesitated no longer. He raised the cup, drained the blue liquid in a single gulp, set the cup down, and then leaned back against the chair, folding his hands before him and closing his eyes.

Alfred stood facing the study door, and Purr stopped speaking as well, perched upon Kevin’s back, staring intently at Cullen’s reaction.

Soon, a faint trace of agony manifested upon Cullen’s face.

"Hiss..."

Taking a deep breath, Cullen reached up and clutched his chest.

Now, he felt as though every beat of his heart was being struck by someone wielding a hammer, and his body trembled with each thud.

However, Cullen also understood that this was a period he had to endure by himself.

The agony persisted for about ten minutes, leaving Cullen’s face drenched in cold sweat and his lips turning pale.

At this moment, the hammering of his heart began to decline from its peak; the turning point had arrived. Though the pain had only just begun to recede, Cullen’s spiritual aspect had already received an immense boost.

Yet, accompanied by the subsiding of the strikes, the frequency of his heartbeat also began to drop.

Cullen gradually perceived his body as though it were placed inside a vacuum chamber, where the pressure was continuously falling, bringing a powerful surge of suffocation that was both physical and psychological.

Because he was in the presence of his own people, Cullen had no need to hide anything, and every feeling showed on his face. Consequently, though the others present saw his agony clearly, they were not overly worried, for they knew the limits of Cullen’s endurance.

Cullen clenched his fists, imagining himself rising rapidly through the water, desperate to thrust his head above the surface to catch a breath of fresh air.

It was impossible to tell exactly how much time had passed; time seemed to have temporarily lost its meaning as a measure.

Not until a crisp sound echoed from his chest did Cullen feel as though he had broken through the water's surface, opening his mouth to gasp for deep breaths of air.

By the time Cullen had completely regained his composure, he sat up straight, placed his palm over his chest, and a faint blue light emerged from the position of his heart.

When Cullen turned his palm upward, the water within the teacup on the desk floated into the air, and the fountain pen and the thermos flask also floated up. As Cullen slowly lowered his palm, everything returned to its place.

Following that, the Poseidon’s Armor manifested upon Cullen’s body. This time, the lines and details on the armor were several times clearer than when he had used it previously; where it had once been a rugged, primitive style, it was now meticulously crafted.

Cullen waved his hand, and the Poseidon’s Armor vanished.

"It was a success."

"Congratulations, Young Master!" Alfred placed a hand over his chest and bowed.

Kevin lowered his head, mimicking Alfred's posture by bending his front paws like a sycophant.

Inadvertently, he caused Purr to tumble down.

Purr did not scold Kevin, but instead laughed and said, "The Eye of the Dark Moon, the Heart of the Sea God. My dear little Cullen, do you intend to upgrade every part of your body in the future?

What will you upgrade next, the Hand of Light?

The Brain of Principles?

The Elbow of Samsara?

The Whip of Order?"

Cullen frowned.

Purr realized at once, "Oh, that is right. The Whip of Order is not a body part, and you do not have a whip on you."

"Heh."

Cullen stood up and said, "I am going to bathe and rest. The Heart of the Sea God needs to replenish its energy."

Watching Cullen walk out of the study, Purr said with some confusion, "Huh, his reaction just now seemed a bit strange, as if I said something wrong."

Alfred analyzed, "I believe it might be because of the Whip of Order."

"What is wrong with the Whip of Order?" Purr asked in confusion.

Kevin also turned his head curiously to look at Alfred, for he knew that Alfred did not just study the words and thoughts in his notebooks; he also deeply pondered and extrapolated based on Cullen's word choices and the unusual phrases he habitually used. In other words, Alfred was studying another language system entirely—a system only Cullen understood.

No, it might even be a linguistic system Cullen had created himself.

Alfred gestured with his hands and said, "A whip, you see, is very long, so it should be a metaphor. Combined with the fact that metaphors and derived meanings frequently appear in the Young Master's self-created linguistic system, I believe the word 'whip' in that language might also represent a man's private area."

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

Kevin barked while raising a paw.

"Thank you."

Alfred bent down and high-fived Kevin's paw.

His analysis and research had garnered affirmation from the Evil God himself—no, it was admiration!

Purr blinked,

muttering to herself:

"Oh, if that is the case, it makes perfect sense that he got angry."

...

Inside the bathroom, Cullen had already stripped off his clothes and lay down in the bathtub.

Possessing the Heart of the Sea God was equivalent to adding another reservoir to his body, alongside the original reservoir and the Eye of the Dark Moon reservoir, and it also meant having three outlets.

This kind of boosting effect was never a simple matter of addition and subtraction, but rather multiplication.

In short, Cullen had now lost an accurate metric to judge his own strength. If he strictly had to find a comparison, he truly felt confident now to exchange blows with a Captain utilizing the Power of Light.

The outcome would be hard to say; he would likely stand a higher chance of losing, because although the Captain had no other secrets, the battle experience he had accumulated and the sheer number of artifacts he carried meant he was by no means inferior.

However, the enhanced Dark Moon Blade and the upgraded Poseidon’s Armor could grant him high offense and high defense, supplemented by his reserves of spiritual power, and his diligent efforts to learn various spells during his three daily meals...

It would be difficult for the Captain to defeat him easily.

Right now, he was probably the most troublesome opponent in the eyes of any adversary without a generational gap in strength.

Unless they could instantly crush him with a power that completely exceeded his cognition and endurance, he could drag any opponent into a painful, protracted battle.

Cullen took a towel and wiped his face. Although his realm had not advanced during this period, the increase in his strength was remarkably obvious.

He had remained stationary on the path, seemingly making no forward progress, yet he had cleared several more traffic lanes than anyone else.

"Little Cullen?"

Purr’s voice came from outside the bathroom door,

"Do not drain the water after you finish bathing. It is time for Doradoleen to take a bath."

"Understood."

Karen rose, dried his body, and changed into his pajamas. Since he hadn't soaked for very long this time, he casually channeled some extra Light power into the bathtub.

Lying down on the bed, Karen was just about to have a sip of water before sleeping when Dora and Dorine walked in, carrying a basket filled with toiletries and clean clothes. The two girls bowed to Karen before stepping into the bathroom.

They were all family, so there was no need for too much avoidance or awkwardness. Karen pulled up the blanket, lay down, and went to sleep. He had to set off for the final selection tomorrow morning, so he needed to seize the time to replenish his energy.

When Dora and Dorine finished their bath and came out fully dressed, they couldn't help but stop by the edge of the bed and stare at Karen for a moment longer.

They held immense affection for Karen. It was the appearance of this older brother that had brought them their current life, delivering them from the torments of agony. Moreover, this brother of theirs was exceptionally handsome, even more good-looking than the male stars in the picture books, and in their daily interactions, his demeanor and conduct were always deeply comforting.

However, the two girls' fondness for Karen was entirely pure; they simply liked him and had never thought about anything happening between them.

As the two girls walked out of the bedroom, Mrs. Lake, who was standing by the door, gave them a somewhat helpless look. Both daughters bowed their heads in embarrassment, and seeing this, Mrs. Lake couldn't help but smile again.

She was very fond of her current life—secure, peaceful, and quiet. The only lingering regret was that sometimes at night, she would still think of that dead scoundrel of a husband.

Purr was sitting in the kitchen while Sely was preparing a private afternoon tea for her. Sely knew that the coffee she was currently brewing seemed unavailable for purchase even with Riels. The last time the coffee ran out, she had asked Mr. Alfred about the brand, intending to use her own salary to buy it as a gift for her employers. In the end, Mr. Alfred had laughed and told her that this coffee could only be exchanged for gold, as they didn't accept Riels.

Thus, the maid understood that the combined daily expenses of the entire family couldn't even match a single afternoon tea for this feline lady.

The young master truly doted on her; he only drank ice water himself and never touched this coffee.

On this point, Sely had actually misunderstood Karen. Karen simply hadn't learned to appreciate coffee in his past life, treating instant coffee merely as a tool to stay awake. In this life, though he had the means, he was too lazy to force himself to learn how to drink it.

"I say, Big Butt."

In the beginning, when Purr addressed her this way, Sely would be terrified, because a cat could actually speak.

Gradually, she would feel embarrassed, because a cat actually described her like that, sometimes even right in front of the young master.

And slowly, she grew accustomed to it, because she knew the young master liked looking at her rear. Therefore, she would even thoughtfully and deliberately pose at a nice angle for the young master in the morning.

It was just that the young master always only looked and never touched, which made the maid, who had recently received another salary raise, feel quite apologetic in her heart.

A friend of hers who grew up with her in the shantytown worked as a maid for another household and had become the master's secret lover, yet her monthly salary wasn't even a third of Sely's, and that was without counting Sely's various bonuses and allowances.

Therefore, Sely was always filled with gratitude, feeling incredibly lucky and happy, completely forgetting how she had initially endured so many frights to persevere in this household, if not for the sake of such a high salary.

By now, she was completely used to it.

For instance, she could respond to this elegant black cat quite calmly:

"What are your orders, Miss Purr?"

"Under my tutelage, your pastry-making skills have become quite decent."

"Thank you for the praise, Miss."

"Mm."

Purr took a sip of her coffee. Indeed, though she was a cat, she never lapped at her coffee; she always sipped it.

Alfred’s room contained an attached study alcove. Though it wasn't as large as the young master's independent study, it was more than enough.

There were three desks. On the small desk lay the account books, recording the household income and expenditures, including even social gifts and favors.

Whenever a festival arrived, Alfred would prepare gifts and send them to places like the Allen Manor, the Lemar Pottery Gallery, the Guman family, and anywhere closely associated with his young master. Even Karen himself didn't know about this, as Alfred felt the young master had no need to be bothered by such trivial matters.

On the medium-sized desk lay the notes left behind by Mr. Hoffen, along with the spellbooks and registers he had transcribed and collected himself.

The largest desk—on top, underneath, and inside its drawers—was stuffed with Alfred's transcriptions, insights, quotations, analyses, and other materials.

At this moment, Kevin was sprawled across the large desk, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his canine nose, reading Alfred's analysis of the unique linguistic system Karen had created.

Alfred turned on the radio, which began to play a song he had recorded himself—the divine hymn in his heart.

"There has never been any savior, nor do we rely on gods or emperors..."

Kevin turned his head, looking at Alfred in bewilderment.

Yet he saw Alfred with his hands resting behind his head, leaning back so that the chair legs tilted, his posture completely relaxed and comfortable.

"Woof?"

"Mr. Hoffen once taught me that the greatest purpose of my eyes is to learn. I have gradually come to understand the profound meaning within Mr. Hoffen's words."

"Woof?"

"What I am researching is a great civilization."

...

Karen slept until four o'clock in the morning, waking up fully energized.

When he got out of bed, he saw Purr still sprawled on the nightstand reading a romance novel. He couldn't help but reach out and stroke the soft fur beneath Purr's neck.

Purr had already grown used to Karen occasionally treating her like a pet and petting her—after all, he liked making fish for his pet to eat.

Seeing that Karen was awake, Purr pressed the bedside bell.

Karen rose, washed up, changed into the divine robe that was a size too large, and walked out of the bedroom ready for breakfast.

Entering the kitchen, Sely was already busy inside, and a bowl of hot soup had just been served.

Karen picked up a spoon, took a sip, and asked, "Who sent this?"

"Young Master, the old matriarch of the Guman family brought it over personally last night. Mr. Alfred has verified it; this soup is safe for you to drink, Young Master."

"Mm, it tastes quite good."

Madam Tangli had actually come in person, likely because Richard had broken his leg and could no longer help run errands.

Karen truly held a favorable opinion of this old lady because he could feel that her affection for him carried no impurities. It allowed him to feel the warmth of family once again, reminiscent of Uncle Mason and Aunt Mary, after leaving Ruilan.

The breakfast was very sumptuous, with rice as the staple food. Since he had to participate in the final selection after this meal, he needed to replenish himself well.

After finishing his meal, Karen went for a walk, breathing in the rare crisp morning air. Only at this time did the air of York City not feel suffocatingly irritating.

As he walked to the shop entrance, he saw someone stepping out of a taxicab. It was Ventura.

Ventura walked over holding a bag and smiled, saying, "My grandmother made some pastries for us."

"Have you had breakfast?" Karen asked.

"I have."

"Then bring it along; we can eat it on the way later."

"Alright."

A VIP carriage drove up. The one driving was Mr. Santos, and the one accompanying Eisly down was Madam Celina.

In truth, Karen had not made plans to go together with them, but they naturally gathered here ahead of time.

Mr. Santos unloaded three large boxes of magical cabinets from the carriage, containing the first batch of supplements meant for Purr and Kevin.

Karen expressed his gratitude to them.

They didn't linger either; the husband and wife immediately got back into the carriage. But before the carriage could even drive away, a shadow appeared in the sky. Soon after, a falcon began to glide at low altitude, and a figure leapt down from the falcon, landing steadily. It was Bart.

According to the Order's regulations regarding the Knights, the Knights were not permitted to set foot in areas outside the military camp without a transfer order.

The falcon didn't land on the ground, so it didn't count as a violation.

Of course, this instance of "misusing public property for private affairs" was already quite obvious.

The Santos couple waved goodbye to their daughter, and Eisly bid them farewell as well.

Bart was somewhat surprised that Ashley’s parents had personally escorted her here, which likely meant Cullen’s status was even higher than his own parents had predicted.

With this, four of the five slots from the York City region had gathered; as for the missing sleepy girl, Philomena, she had long been excluded by this small group because she did not fit in.

"Let us agree beforehand: if the final selection process allows for teamwork, we will stick together. The requirement is simple—you do not need to sacrifice your own interests for others, but please do not actively trample on the interests of the other three among the four of us.

Do you agree?"

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

Alfred had been standing by the side. He heard the young master propose a very broad, verbal agreement, and he knew all too well that the reason the master was willing to take on this trouble was because if the final selection succeeded, or even if it did not, the master would secure connections from Mr. Santos and the Order of Knights.

As for Ventura, well, he was the member the young master had already earmarked for his future squad.

Once this selection ended—no, once the trial of the Gate of Reincarnation was over—the young master would begin assembling his own squad and carving out his own domain.

"It is about time; let us head to the examination grounds." Cullen looked toward Alfred. "You drive us there."

"Understood, young master." Alfred walked toward the second-hand Ponce sedan.

"That car is too cramped," Cullen remarked. "Choose a more spacious one."

"A more spacious one?" Alfred froze for a moment. "Master, do you mean for me to drive..."

...

In front of the Academic Affairs Building, Chief Bishop Wolfrun stood at the entrance leading a gathering of bishops and high-ranking priests, preparing to welcome the five candidates from their region. He had even prepared an inspiring speech for the occasion, hoping these young people would strive valiantly to win honor for their region.

Although his grandson, Leon, had failed to pass the selection, he had long since adjusted his mindset and remained clear about his responsibilities.

Only, this batch of candidates seemed a bit late; for such a crucial final selection, how could they arrive right on the dot?

If the youth were indiscreet, did their elders not know the gravity of the matter either?

Bishop Wolfrun sighed softly in his heart; because of this, his speech would have to be shortened somewhat.

"They are here!" someone announced.

A liturgist in charge of etiquette waved his hand: "Play the music!"

The band struck up a stirring melody, and journalists raised their cameras, preparing to shoot; these photographs would be published in the Order Weekly.

And then,

Under the gaze of the various bishops and the crowd of high-ranking priests,

There drove up,

A hearse.

...

"Why is there a ceremony?"

Cullen felt quite surprised. He had only thought that it would be more spacious and comfortable for so many people to ride in the hearse, and had never intended to be unconventional.

The hearse came to a halt right