Chapter 321: Praise!

Chapter 321: Praise!

If given a choice, Puxi'en would not remain here; it would flee.

Even though it well knew the consequence of refusing to cooperate with the selection was the activation of the restriction embedded within its body, causing its very form to instantly disintegrate.

Every mythical beast that had appeared previously actually had a restriction embedded within them in advance, a mechanism linked directly to the formation inside the plaza, with a dedicated formation master overseeing the barrier of each individual squad.

Defeating the squad within the barrier meant gaining freedom.

Refusing to cooperate with the selection meant immediate execution.

Each formation master could judge for themselves whether the squad under their charge had lost all hope of winning, thereby ending the selection prematurely; the mythical beast would then be restrained by the formation to prevent further casualties.

In principle, Puxi'en's spiritual domain—its soul blessing—produced a "boiling" effect within the soul, thereby raising the target's spiritual ramparts in a highly realistic yet "false" state.

It did not transmit any soul energy itself, acting merely as a catalyst.

Yet now, this very catalyst found itself hopelessly shackled within this unfolding reaction.

Puxi'en would rather face death now than continue any longer; in this world, there were things far more terrifying than death itself.

Especially the imagery unfolding "before its eyes,"

Was this something it was even meant to see?

Damn it,

I agreed to enter this trial ground to help your Church of Order perform selection tests solely to gain my freedom;

But,

Do you yourselves even know exactly who you are selecting?

No,

Is he someone you even need to subject to a selection in the first place?

...

"This is all fake, fake, all of it is fake... this is... an illusion."

Karen gradually emerged from his initial panic, possessing far too much experience in dealing with illusions, and boasting sufficient reliance to counter soul-type attacks.

Yet, as Karen grew clearer and his self-awareness returned, the illusion did not dissipate, nor did he wake up; instead, the surrounding environment began to expand and grow increasingly refined.

Had the intensity of the illusion increased?

Karen could only surmise as much, because the intelligence Aislie provided regarding Puxi'en was scarce, and further compounded by the organizers' near-shameful method that allowed Puxi'en to launch a sneak attack on the entire squad the moment it appeared, leaving absolutely no opportunity for gradual contact or familiarization.

Thus, Karen had not yet realized that the illusion he currently inhabited was, in fact, a rampart he had built for himself.

A noose had already been placed around his neck, and the hands gripping the rope were his own; the clearer he became, the tighter the rope around his neck strangled him.

The world before his eyes began to tilt, and Karen subconsciously tried to maintain his balance, only to find it completely impossible; under the disruption of this tilting world, his center of gravity shifted, and his entire body fell backward.

"Thud!"

Only when the back of his head slammed heavily against the ground did Karen realize that the world itself had not tilted; rather, in his own perception, everything had overturned.

It had been a very, very long time since he last felt himself this weak; even when overdrawing his spiritual power, he had never been so feeble.

"Karen, Karen?"

Hmm?

Karen opened his eyes to find himself lying on a bed, with many people either sitting or standing by his bedside.

"Oh, thank goodness, Karen, you're finally awake." Aunt Winnie wept with joy.

Aunt Mary smiled, then her expression darkened, but soon, she smiled once more.

Uncle Mason beat his chest and said, "My nephew is awake, haha."

"Brother Karen?"

Mina, Lunt, and Chris stared at Karen with curiosity.

"Uncle... Aunt... Auntie..."

Karen sat up from the bed, the expressions of those around him still so genuine, and this sense of familial warmth was so wonderfully detailed, yet... it felt as though something was missing?

What was missing?

Karen could not help but place his hand on his head; what exactly was missing?

"Karen, don't scare me, is there somewhere else you're feeling unwell?" Uncle Mason asked with concern.

Enduring the tearing sensation echoing in his mind, Karen forced himself to raise his head, his gaze sweeping across the faces of everyone by his bedside once more.

Everyone was here, so who was missing?

"Karen, you've just recovered from your illness, quick, lie down and get some more rest."

Aunt Winnie reached out, placing her hand on Karen's shoulder, gently pressing him downward.

Karen's body gradually softened as he lay back down.

Yes, I have just recovered from my illness, I need to rest.

"Be good, Karen, rest a bit longer, take another nap, and you'll feel much better." Uncle Mason said.

Yes, a nap will fix everything.

The back of his head touched the soft pillow, and that feeling of comfort and ease immediately washed over him.

But just as Karen was about to close his eyes, his expression suddenly turned solemn, and his eyes instantly snapped wide open:

"Someone is missing!"

Propping his hands against the mattress, Karen forced himself back up.

"Karen, you need to rest." Uncle Mason said.

"Yes, sleep a bit longer, it's good for your body." Aunt Mary said.

"Be good, Karen, listen to us, be a good boy." Aunt Winnie urged.

"Brother Karen, take a good rest, and you can play with us once you're well." His younger cousins also began to persuade him.

"Someone is missing!"

Karen glared, squeezing the words out of his throat once more.

At that moment, Uncle Mason, Aunt Mary, Aunt Winnie, and his younger cousins all extended their hands, pressing down upon Karen's body, intending to force him back onto the bed.

"Someone is missing!"

Karen let out a low growl, then violently flung away the hands resting upon him, rolling off the bed and scrambling toward the bedroom door; the moment he stood up, Karen slammed the door shut, pressing his back against it, lowering his head as he began to gasp heavily for breath.

"This is fake, this is fake, this is fake..."

This voice began to rise within his heart, and Karen began to softly repeat it aloud.

The bedroom behind him had fallen completely silent, turning utterly still.

Looking down at the floor beneath his feet, Karen grit his teeth, his eyes betraying his bewilderment:

Was the illusion this time truly this powerful?

All past experience and composure when facing soul-based attacks proved entirely useless this time.

Though his own resolve remained steadfast, why did he feel more and more like a white lab rat trapped in a glass jar, scurrying frantically without direction?

Karen lifted his head and looked toward the third-floor window ledge directly ahead.

There lay a person, a person identical to himself, whose face was haggard and expression numb; he simply lay there as the outside sunlight spilled over him, bringing not a single trace of vitality, but rather draping him in a layer of deathly pallor.

His gaze was utterly vacant, staring fixedly upward where two figures lay upon the ceiling—a man and a woman, darkness continuously flowing out from their bodies as though they were still bleeding.

"Why am I seeing you?" Karen pressed a hand to his forehead as the groggy, heavy sensation he had just dispelled came rushing back once more.

The man lying on the window ledge turned his head toward Karen and smiled, revealing flash-white teeth.

Simultaneously, a horrifying wound manifested on his chest, right where the heart belonged, yet that space was completely empty.

"I am useless, I am a piece of trash, I am useless, I am a piece of trash..."

He kept repeating these words.

Karen took a deep breath to maintain his balance—an illusion, it was still an illusion!

The best way to break an illusion was to look it dead in the eye, confront it, and then conquer it!

Karen stepped toward the window ledge, and the version of him lying there ceased his ceaseless, repetitive murmuring, shouting instead:

"So he killed me, forcing me to vacate this body and clear a space for you to move right in!"

Karen's footsteps froze.

"This is how I died, this is the cause of my death; because he wanted you to come, I died, he murdered me, and it was your arrival that cost me my life!"

"No... that is not how it is."

A sudden pang of panic struck Karen's heart; he could not allow himself to be drawn into this rhythm.

"He loves you, he loves your parents, he..."

Karen continued somewhat blankly,

"Who is he?"

The figure on the window ledge began to laugh again, a sound that grated severely on Karen's nerves.

Just then, the window on the ledge was pushed open, and the figure stood up on the sill, facing the open window with his back to Karen as he spoke:

"Push me down, push me out of this home, and then this home will be entirely yours."

Karen extended both hands and walked toward the window ledge.

Yet just as his hands were about to brush against the man's back, Karen froze, took a deep breath, and struck his own forehead with force.

Then he turned around and walked in the opposite direction.

Arriving at the study door, Karen stopped.

This study gave him a peculiar feeling, as if merely pushing this door open would resolve every single problem.

Karen placed his hand upon the doorknob, twisted it, and pushed the door open.

Behind the desk inside the room sat an elderly man.

The old man sat upright, his eyes fixed on Karen.

"Grandfather..."

In this very instant, Karen finally realized who exactly had been missing from the bedside earlier.

It was Dis; Dis had not been by the bed!

"I am tired," Dis spoke. "I will find a reason to sleep for a while, and once you have truly matured, I will wake again to take what I want from your hands."

Hearing these words, Karen drew a deep breath as the groggy sensation in his head manifested once more, several times more intense than before.

"Rest assured, I will watch you forever; your every move and action will be under the gaze of my eyes. If you do not believe me, why not look behind you?"

Karen turned his head and saw the phantom image of Dis behind him—this was his own family belief system.

Dis continued: "You see, in order to keep watch over you, I conducted a blood sacrifice ritual."

"It is not like that..."

Karen clenched his fists tight and began to pound against his own head, desperate to force himself back to clarity; he utterly loathed this illusion.

"How could unconditional love ever exist in this world? You know full well in your heart who you are; why would I show you affection just because you occupied my grandson's body?

Heh, so it turns out you are actually this naive and childish?"

While continuing to strike his own head, Karen growled low: "Creating this kind of illusion for me—I will kill you, I will kill you! Puxian, I will kill you!"

"You ought to face your inner heart; are there not things you have doubted, things you have pondered over?"

Karen lifted his head, his expression distorted and fierce, yet his gaze grew clear once more:

"Do you know? If Dis truly wanted it, I would willingly surrender it to him; even if this is a dream, I am willing to keep dreaming it."

"Look, you have doubted it, haven't you? It is merely that your emotion overrode your reason." Dis stood up and looked at Karen. "You should face your inner heart directly."

"Heh..."

Karen let out a laugh.

He backed out of the study, slamming the door shut with a loud bang, and staggered toward the staircase, where he saw a black cat perched upon the banister.

The black cat spoke: "Karen, did you know? The plan of the Allen family has actually never failed; I, Purr, am the true executor of this plan.

How could those fools ever understand how to utilize this finger?

I shall find the most suitable master for this finger—oh no, what could possibly be more suitable than its original owner?

When the time comes, I can find a pretext to form a symbiotic relationship with you, and I shall transcend the absolute limits of the Progenitor Allen family belief system, this damned system that has locked me, a genius, away!

I will select the one among my clansmen with the absolute best bloodline talent to marry you, so she can bear your bloodline.

That way,

my Allen family shall receive your bounty in both flesh and soul.

What does a brief period of silence matter?

The Allen family will eventually usher in true glory under my arrangement, and the future Allen family will possess the right to be looked at as equals even by the Sacred Church!"

Karen began to flee, that groggy sensation returning yet again.

But right at that moment, a cat tail jabbed toward him, followed immediately by a pure white finger tapping directly onto his forehead.

"Order... come out and face me!"

"Bang!"

Karen instantly fell into severe dizziness, his entire body tumbling down the stairs.

Before he could even scramble to his feet, a golden retriever trotted over to lick his hand:

"I have waited for you for so long, just as agreed; this time, you absolutely must not abandon me again. I still need you to help me bring my Mils back; you won't lie to me again, right?"

Karen instinctively raised his foot, wanting to kick the dog away, but he stopped himself midway.

He climbed back up, grasping the stair banister with both hands, and continued his arduous descent; he had to leave this place, leave this place!

Here, it was rife with absurdity and oppression.

Yet what tortured Karen most was that he could wake up time and again, only to remain completely powerless to affect his surroundings, while the environment itself never failed to strike him with the most visceral impact.

When Karen reached the first-floor staircase, he saw an old man sitting by the tea table, drinking tea.

"Mr. Hoffen... Grandpa Hoffen?"

Mr. Hoffen looked at Karen, offered a smile, and said:

"My good friend Dis, what an exceptional man he is; he shouldn't have lived such a flat, melancholy life. In my eyes, he should stand in the most brilliant place.

So, I helped him summon you.

You must work hard, mature quickly, and become the stepping stone for him to ascend to godhood, heh heh heh..."

A heavy, dizzying sensation struck once more, and Karen could only grip the banister tightly to maintain his last shred of balance, but he still failed, his body sliding down uncontrollably. Once his back hit the carpet, he turned his head with great difficulty, only to see that the morgue platform in the first-floor mourning hall of the Immoles house held no coffin, but instead bore a Throne of Order.

"Come here, come here, this is where you should sit; this place belonged to you all along, Karen.

You are me, and I am you.

I must return before they return, I must block their path back, I must create a world where only I exist as a single god, I must make Order the sole metric of this world!

Forget those memories of yours, abandon those struggles of yours.

Those are merely a bit of dust caught on this gemstone from being left out too long; a single breath will blow it clean.

Perhaps, because of my deep slumber, I dreamed a few dreams, dreamed of many stories, dreamed of many identities, and the identity you remember is nothing more than the last simple little dream before I awoke, yet you, ridiculously, mistook that dream for reality.

Karen,

you are me,

you are Order,

you are the one the Church of Order worships... the God of Order!"

Karen clutched his head with both hands, a powerful urge to surrender welling up within his heart.

This damned illusion was saturated with cheap artifice!

Yet it was precisely this cheap artifice that ground over him time and again, crushing him until he had no strength to fight back, crushing him until he began to despair, crushing him until he wanted to bow his head.

This carpet was so soft; he really wanted to just lie here forever like this.

Karen knew with absolute clarity that the Uncle Mason and the others he had met earlier—"Karen," Dis, Purr, Kevin, Mr. Hoffen, and that throne—were all fake!

But the more sober he was, the clearer it became, and the more intense the agony grew.

This was no simple pain; it was as if he were strangling his own neck with his own hands, and the more sober he remained, the harder he choked himself.

This paradoxical tearing and twisting plunged Karen into a bottomless abyss of despair.

Sleep, then,

and resist no more.

Right then,

a faint sound drifted over, coming from the basement.

Karen slowly opened his eyes; he wanted to pretend he had not heard it, but the sound continued, still faint, still blurred, yet it set a buzzing ring inside his consciousness, making it impossible for him to sleep.

Slowly, Karen rolled his body over; he wanted to stand up, but found that his current self simply could not manage it. Out of options, he could only crawl, crawling toward the basement.

He was going to shut off that sound, just like turning off the lights in the basement.

Finally, Karen crawled to the corner, and with a tilt of his body, tumbled down the slope leading to the basement.

Stumbling and crashing, with no idea how much time he spent floundering, Karen finally arrived in the basement corridor.

The sound came from Aunt Mary's workshop, and the workshop door was closed.

"Stop it for me, I am tired, stop it for me, stop it, don't bother me anymore, you are not allowed to bother me anymore..."

Karen cried out hoarsely as he crawled toward the spot.

"Stop it for me, just stop it, your voice makes me uncomfortable."

Karen slowly crouched up.

"I don't want to hear your voice, I want peace, I need peace!"

Karen slowly stood up.

"What are you... saying?"

Finally,

Karen walked to the workshop door, and from inside came the sound of prayer:

"You are the great God, the incarnation of the supreme truth in the world;

allow me to praise You, for You have lit the lamp for me in the darkness;

allow me to sing of You, for You have washed away all the dust upon my body;

allow me to follow You, for You have deliberately left footprints behind You for me;

I shall forever bathe in Your glory, I shall forever bear Your will, I shall forever guard Your vow;

praise You, my God, my Lord, my heaven and earth, my... Young Master."

The door

was pushed open by Karen:

"Alfred..."