Chapter 318: Brother Karen

Chapter 318 Brother Karen

The phantasmal beasts born within the void shared a singular physical trait: they were not formed of pure flesh and blood, but rather, their bodies resembled a kind of gelatinous glue.

As the salamander clung to Zogai, the white smoke rising from its burning flames looked like plastic being melted over a low fire.

Granted, the analogy was rather crude, yet it was undeniably the most vivid.

Small plumes of white smoke drifted upward in succession, revealing to Karen a steadily weakening Zogai; though the process might take some time, if it sustained, Zogai's demise was inevitable.

If an adult were rendered entirely immobile, unable to dodge, even the meager flame of a single match would suffice to burn him to death.

The reason Karen chose to confront Zogai in this manner was not because he sought to flaunt his authority as captain, but because he considered that if he could not freely wield the Dark Moon Blade and the Eye of the Sea God for the time being, his massive reservoir of spiritual power would have nowhere to go, and letting it sit idle was pointless, so it was better to expend a portion of it this way.

In doing so, he could also provide his team members with ample time to rest.

Ventura and the others were exceptional, but their endurance was a vulnerability, whereas in this regard, Karen excelled; when one's accumulation reached terrifying proportions, what seemed like waste instead became an exceptionally worthwhile bargain.

Karen simply hovered there, never shifting his position, while Zogai remained firmly locked in place, equally unable to move.

Suddenly,

Zogai opened its mouth, spewing forth a mouthful of crystalline black liquid.

It seemed to anticipate that Karen would intercept it, so mid-flight, the liquid burst apart on its own accord, turning into a shower of crystalline black droplets that rained down toward Karen.

Karen would either have to retreat and grant it freedom, or be enveloped by the contamination.

A halo of purification manifested around Karen, the lowest tier of Order's purification arts.

The moment the crystalline black spray swept over, the purification of Order shattered instantly, but Karen immediately cast another upon himself, and when that broke, he cast yet another.

This lowest tier of magic consumed very little, and Karen was not truly relying on it to cleanse the contamination; it was more for appearances.

After all, he harbored no concern whatsoever regarding contamination of this caliber.

Instead, it was Zogai who faltered slightly, and seeing Karen neither dodge nor evade, it began to spit at him continuously.

Karen chose to ignore it entirely.

Blanche spoke up, "To be able to withstand contamination using low-tier magic proves that the Captain's level of understanding regarding priestly arts far surpasses my own. It turns out that when the Captain previously mentioned he only knew low-tier buffing spells for now, it was simply because they were already more than enough for him."

Ventura, as a veteran member, took it for granted and said, "Of course!"

Bart, however, sighed with emotion, "The Captain is doing the work of all three of us combined, all by himself."

All three of them subconsciously overlooked the salamander; although it was the one responsible for dealing damage, in their eyes, it seemed more like the Captain had conjured it merely to give Eisley a sense of purpose so she wouldn't feel bored.

Mars was still setting up the array, and as he paused to catch his breath and contemplate the next step of the arrangement, he could not help but glance at the barriers where the other squads were located, where most were staging dramas of squad members locked in fierce battles with octopus monsters.

Meanwhile, on their own squad's side, things were somewhat too tranquil.

Yet Mars did not find it dull; on the contrary, he thoroughly enjoyed this sensation of composed orchestration.

Mr. Hoffen's notes to Karen had mentioned that a composed orchestration was almost an obsessive-compulsive trait for every array master, most of whom believed that hastily setting up practical arrays was a commercial compromise and a desecration of the art of arrays.

What an array master relished most, and the highest aesthetic they pursued, was that upon discovering a mosquito in the room, they would have sufficient time and conditions to construct a forbidden-grade array just to expel that mosquito from the room.

Bart spoke up, "Are there two more phantasmal beasts after this?"

Ventura said, "Each should be stronger than the last."

Blanche added, "In truth, each is more expensive than the last."

The Ogurev Fortress floated within the void, and being stationed here was truly a banishment among banishments, rendering one more despondent than being stationed in the frozen mountains or the desolate barrens.

Consequently, the treatment at Ogurev Fortress was far superior; besides daily patrols and monitoring, hunting the phantasmal beasts within the void was also a long-term task for the garrisoned forces.

After regularly turning over a sufficient number and variety of phantasmal beasts to the Church of Order, the fortress could sell the remainder on its own, a practice to which the Church high officials turned a blind eye, treating it entirely as a gray benefit for the garrison.

The more powerful a phantasmal beast was, the more difficult it was to capture, and the higher its price; arranging them by strength served on one hand to gradually eliminate squads, and on the other hand, releasing certain expensive phantasmal beasts in the first round would incur a cost that was simply too high.

Later on, when the number of squads dwindled, releasing the expensive ones would see the overall cost come down.

"The First Squad has finished," Bart said.

The First Squad had once again been the first to eliminate their target.

Blanche spoke up, "They are from the Dingle Region. When we first entered, I saw them together."

Bart smiled and asked, "Did you initially want to join their squad?"

"Yes, I did," Blanche replied without any concealment, "But it seemed they had already finalized their selection long ago, who is also a priestess with a background in the Knights Templar. I know her."

"It seems they guessed the exam questions correctly well in advance too," Bart said.

This was hardly surprising, for Bart's own parents and Eisley's parents had also guessed the questions correctly.

The Dingle Region was not densely populated, being a region pieced together from several nations, but... the Holy See itself was located within the Dingle Region.

"Do you regret it now?" Bart asked.

"There is no point in asking that question now," Blanche shrugged, "While we envy how quickly they eliminate their targets, they might very well envy the tranquility we have here."

"True," Bart said, flexing his hands, "In fact, our pacing is better."

"Yes, the Captain is clearly controlling our expenditure to ensure we maintain our condition to handle the subsequent targets. I even suspect the Captain is already preparing for the final confrontation with the divine artifact inside the sealed space."

Within the barrier of the First Squad, the resting members turned their collective gaze intently toward the Third Squad.

"Tsk, I feel somewhat relieved. There will be two qualifying slots in the end, so we won't be in direct competition with that Third Squad."

"Indeed, our speed is fast, but they are playing the long game with rhythm. Is that their captain?"

"Yes."

"Suppressing Zogai all by oneself... could you do that, Muri?"

"I could manage it, but I wouldn't be able to achieve that level of composure."

"His reservoir of spiritual power is immensely abundant."

"Heh, abundant is no longer the word for it, Pasio. I wouldn't mind if you used the word 'terrifying' to describe the captain of that other squad, because he truly earns the title."

"To dare control Zogai with the Chains of Order like that, either he is a fool, or this slight expenditure means absolutely nothing to him."

"I have no desire to fight such an opponent, you know? Unless I can succeed in a swift ambush or crush him directly with an external force like a sacred artifact, once caught in a stalemate, the one to lose will definitely be me."

"By the way, Digat, your grandfather is away on business, right?"

"Yes, Captain, just yesterday."

"Mm, your grandfather is the deputy director of the Grade-A department of the Sealed Space System. Sigh, I suspect that if we run out of phantasmal beasts by the end and there are still more than two squads left on the field, the higher-ups will deploy the power of a soul-type divine artifact against us."

"Will it really come to that?"

"Uncertain. It depends on whether there is a third squad as exceptional as us and the Third Squad. If things truly get bottlenecked at the very end, nothing is impossible... No, the Third Squad is still setting up an array. Pasio, can you discern what the second array their squad's master is setting up actually is?"

"The first array was the Kendos Triple Defense Array. What is being set up now is... the Spiritual Bridge Array."

"The Spiritual Bridge Array?" Muri's expression grew solemn, "He is preparing to counter the trial of the divine artifact! Because the power of a divine artifact is sufficient to take effect on everyone present in an instant, a Spiritual Bridge Array is needed to connect everyone for a collective defense. They must have sent that bird to steal the questions beforehand."

"I understand. I will begin setting it up right now."

"Mm, you don't need to participate in the next round. Hurry up and set it up."

"Understood, Captain."

...

"This fellow named Karen is rather intriguing," Moswat observed, studying the projection within the mirror before him.

Gleriven nodded in agreement, adding, "He possesses quite a sharp mind. Though a member of the Whip of Order, he is merely an auxiliary officer. Moswat, here lies your opportunity."

Moswat offered an exaggerated sigh, "Verden would absolutely murder me."

Gleriven countered, "He has only himself to blame for failing to recognize talent; otherwise, the man wouldn't still be without an official commission."

Moswat corrected her, "You ought to know well enough that he hasn't even bothered to renew his God-servant certificate. That implies he harbors no great obsession with official status and holds it in little regard. After all, even a full inquisitor earns a monthly stipend of barely over a thousand Order Coupons."

"True enough. The stipend and treatment of grassroots clergy remain rather meager, which hardly fosters effective operations at the foundational level."

At this point, the two fell silent.

Strangely, Cardinal Krayd, who usually offered a concluding critique after their exchanges, remained uncharacteristically silent this time; instead, he closed his eyes and began to snore.

...

As events demonstrated, if a team failed to suppress a Zogai immediately, its abilities would inflict immense trouble upon them.

One squad after another faced elimination because of the beasts, and there were even instances of severe injury—the kind that, even after treatment, would likely leave lasting sequelae.

Such outcomes were inevitable. This was not a selection held within the realm of consciousness; when the physical body truly participated, risks could no longer be kept under absolute control.

Commander Punk’s expression grew progressively darker.

He already anticipated the sheer weight of the pressure that would descend upon him once the trials concluded. Those youths either possessed well-connected parents or were seen by regional authorities as the rising stars of their respective sectors. If they were driven mad by a selection he had organized, even he would find it utterly unacceptable.

Ah...

Perhaps,

it would be wiser not to request a transfer back?

Commander Punk looked up at the absurd sky, which resembled a chaotic splatter of paint, and thought that remaining stationed at Fort Augurev might actually be a form of happiness.

...

Philomena's final fist punched clean through the Zogai's torso. The creature's form began to dissolve, volatilizing rapidly into the air.

She cast a cold gaze toward her teammates, whose expressions returned a look of equal frostiness.

Philomena took a deep breath, suppressing the word "useless" before it could escape her lips, for she still intended to vie for that singular spot.

Yet, as things stood, the probability of success appeared exceedingly bleak. This team had been cobbled together from the remaining stragglers; setting aside their varying levels of strength, not a single one possessed a mild temperament.

Those willing to bow their heads and speak pleasantries could always find a welcoming group beforehand; no one would refuse the addition of a humble filler, for such individuals were easily commanded and understood how to prioritize the greater good.

Conversely, those who refused to lower themselves to seek a partnership, unwilling to offer polite words or soften their posture, simply stood there with cold, detached countenances—and it was these people who ultimately gathered together.

If anyone were to ask Philomena now if she harbored regrets, her answer would be a definitive "yes."

She regretted it. She knew that Karen's squad possessed a far greater advantage; in that team, she could have spent the entire duration sleeping on the sidelines, only stepping forward to resolve a crisis when Karen called upon her, before returning to her rest to recuperate.

She would not conceal the true yearnings of her heart, for she was accustomed to facing her inner self directly. Given another chance, she would accept that pastry, even if she had no intention of eating it.

...

The Zogai facing Karen had fallen into utter despair.

It had initially intended to wage a war of attrition, only to realize that as long as this young human stood before it, movement was rendered entirely impossible. Even the bursts of pollution it spat toward him seemed to be of no consequence to its adversary.

Unseen by onlookers, its mental assaults against Karen had never wavered for a single moment, yet they remained entirely ineffective.

This young human stood as unshakable as a mountain, firmly pinning it down.

Relying on the flames enveloping its body, the fire salamander had already eroded more than half of the Zogai’s form. This was a gradual grinding process, one that simultaneously plunged the Zogai into a profound abyss of hopelessness.

At that moment, Karen noticed that the other squads had concluded their battles.

They had either vanquished their respective Zogai or been eliminated from the field.

Karen had originally intended to control the tempo to allow his teammates more time to rest, but it now appeared unnecessary, as two of the squads had locked themselves in bitter struggles that lasted far longer than he had anticipated.

However, such circumstances could not be foreseen, making it imperative to retain the initiative in his own hands.

Now, it could end.

Karen released all the binding chains. Instantly granted freedom, the Zogai lunged at Karen in a frenzy. For a phantom beast to resort to a direct physical assault meant it had been tortured to the brink of madness, betraying a desperate longing for a swift release.

"Order—Spear of Punishment!"

Twelve spears of punishment erupted from the ground before Karen. The Zogai saw them but made no attempt to evade or maneuver around, throwing its body directly over them.

Karen raised his hand, and the twelve spears pierced straight up into the Zogai's form from below.

"Roar!"

The Zogai unleashed a cry that was both agonizing and ecstatic.

"Boom!"

Immediately following,

it burst into nothingness.

Karen massaged his wrist, feeling a slight dizziness in his head, a dryness in his eyes, and a faint tightness in his chest—the standard physical responses to a prolonged, high-intensity output of spiritual power.

Nevertheless, his remaining reserves were sufficient; indeed, they were more than sufficient.

Compared to his past tendency to faint at any moment, he was still far from his limit, though he did require a brief respite. The ammunition remained plentiful, but the barrel had grown red-hot and needed time to cool.

Karen turned around and issued his command:

"Prepare for the next round."

"Yes, Captain!"

Presently, only ten squads remained on the field.

Karen felt no sense of relief. The first and seventh squads had consistently exerted pressure upon him, and among the surviving teams, stubborn adversaries might yet emerge.

If the battle truly dragged on until the end, when the divine artifact made its appearance...

When an artifact representing absolute power manifested, the element of luck would come to carry immense weight.

"Sigh, I really do not wish to gamble on luck."

...

"La-la-la... La-la-la... La-la-la..."

A young girl sat upon a glass display case, her legs swinging casually as she hummed a tune.

Beneath her, inside the glass case, rested two copper coins.

In a distant corner, a gathering of artifact spirits—comprising men, women, the young, and the old—had clustered together to debate their escape plan for the day.

This had become their nearly indispensable daily ritual; they never grew weary of discussing how to mobilize everyone for a grand flight, though some among them had been deliberating this very matter from the previous era into the present one.

The young girl felt a strong urge to remind them:

"Look there, that silver gateway has already opened. Right now is the perfect opportunity to flee."

Yet young Loya remained kind-hearted; she knew that doing so would be far too cruel.

They did not dare to flee. The price of a failed escape and subsequent recapture was to be submerged into an even deeper, sealed layer of space. Here, at the very least, they could converse and enjoy each other's company; in the deeper voids, nothing awaited but eternal loneliness.

They treated the plotting of their escape merely as a game, while the act of escape itself had long since lost its fundamental meaning.

At that moment, a gentle woman materialized by Luo Ya's side, the incarnate spirit of a harp that had once been a gift from the God of the Sea to his lover, Miels.

"Sister Lonidel."

"Little Luo Ya, let me whisper a secret to you."

"Hmm?"

"Do you know why this door has swung open today?"

"Oh? Isn't someone coming to claim an artifact? I certainly hope no one sets their sights on me. Hmph, if anyone takes me away, I'll find an opening to bring about their demise, and then go search for my Brother Karen."

"No, it seems they intend to select a divine artifact to serve as an examiner in an upcoming trial."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, they originally chose me to go, but I declined."

"Ah, why refuse, Sister? Opportunities to venture outside are so rare."

"Because the music of my harp is not something I wish to bestow upon just anyone."

"I see."

"However, I recommended you to them, and they will be coming to question you shortly.

Remember, you must project the right attitude. The participants in this trial are all youths from the Church of Order. What they fear most is that we might inflict massive, irreversible harm upon those young souls; after all, they are the finest of their generation.

Thus, they are exceedingly cautious when choosing an artifact. As long as you appear sweet and obedient, you will secure your chance to go out and breathe the fresh air."

"Understood! Thank you, Sister, hehe."

Excited, Luo Ya resumed swinging her legs and humming her tune. Then, as if a sudden thought had struck her,

she murmured to herself:

"Hmm, the finest group of youths in the Church of Order. I wonder... will my Brother Karen be among them?"