Chapter 328: Grandpa's Youth

Chapter 328: Grandfather's Youth

Excusing himself under the pretext of a sudden and urgent matter, Karen took his leave of the Guman family. Lady Tangli stood by the wooden garden fence, watching him step into his car, and Karen smiled, waving to the old lady once more.

Yet, as he started the engine, he paused for a brief moment, brushing his fingers against the folded piece of black paper tucked inside his pocket.

Driving at the highest possible speed, Karen soon arrived before the entrance of the Lemar Pottery Shop.

Exiting the car, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. A corpse lay upon the table, its belly slit wide open, its neck twisted sharply to the right.

In the broad daylight, such a spectacle felt profoundly discordant, particularly since the shopfront boasted glass doors.

But drawing closer, one could see that the cavity of the corpse contained no flesh or blood, but rather a dense, intricate cluster of gears.

Lemar emerged from the back room just then, carrying his "dissection" tools. Spotting Karen, he spoke immediately: "Mr. Karen, Mr. Memphis went to pursue them."

Karen pointed at the puppet on the table.

"There were two of them. This one was silenced, but it is merely a puppet."

"How did Memphis pursue them?"

"Oh, he asked me to give you this." Lemar handed a ruler to Karen. "Mr. Memphis found staying in the shop these past few days rather tedious, so he laid tracking arrays across my shop and the road outside."

"Very well, I understand." Karen accepted the ruler and infused it with a fraction of his spiritual power. The ruler responded, emitting a vibration that conveyed a distinct sense of direction.

This tool was likely meant not to track the fleeing target, but to locate Mr. Memphis himself.

"I see. You stay here in the shop."

"Yes, sir, I understand."

Returning to his car with the ruler, Karen placed it beneath the windshield. As the vehicle moved, the instrument adjusted its orientation on its own accord.

...

In a field in the southern reaches of York City, Philomena moved with swift grace, her body swaying slightly from side to side though her eyes remained closed, her speed astonishing nonetheless.

Behind her, runes continuously materialized beneath the feet of Mr. Memphis. Though his steps did not appear hasty, the distance he covered with each stride was formidable, maintaining his pursuit behind his target with an unyielding rhythm.

At last, the target halted.

Philomena wore a mask that concealed her true countenance. With a flick of her left wrist, a bundle of threads manifested upon her arm, condensing into a remarkably short, silver scythe.

Memphis came to a stop and immediately began to construct a defensive array around himself and beneath his feet.

He knew full well that combat was not his forte, so the moment his adversary showed any inclination to strike, he promptly prepared himself to endure the assault.

Beholding this sight, Philomena found herself momentarily at a loss for how to proceed. She sheared away her scythe, veered sideways, and resumed her flight.

Memphis instantly dismantled the array he had just established and took up the chase once more in his previous manner.

Thus, the two engaged in a prolonged game of pursuit.

Along the way, both parties halted simultaneously several times, yet the situation remained identical on each occasion. Memphis possessed no intention of launching an offensive—not in the slightest.

And gazing upon the defensive array he erected, Philomena understood that it would be terribly difficult to breach. Consequently, she could only redirect her course, and the chase endured.

During the latter half of the ordeal, the two were essentially running in circles within this singular region.

The one who shattered this amicable equilibrium finally appeared. A shroud of black mist blocked Philomena's path ahead, and from its depths stepped the figure of Karen.

Philomena checked her reining form, her gaze fixed upon Karen.

"You know me?"

Karen noted the shift in the masked figure's eyes.

Philomena pulled away her mask, revealing her face.

Karen frowned slightly. "It is you?"

Philomena retracted her scythe and raised both hands slightly, palms upturned toward Karen, signaling that she had no desire to fight.

Karen likewise gripped the small bead he intended to use for summoning the Sword of Alius, refraining from crushing it just yet.

Philomena spoke. "I do wish to fight you, but not over this matter."

"That pottery shop is owned by a friend of mine," Karen stated, making his position clear.

"Someone was able to craft puppets for me. He required a favor in return, so I assisted him. It is as simple as that. Do you believe me?"

"I can choose to believe you, but you must hand that person over to me."

Philomena shook her head. "I cannot."

"Is there no room for negotiation?"

"Do you have any?"

"None," Karen replied resolutely. "I must apprehend that person. It is a promise I have made."

"I cannot tell you where he is. Though I made no promise to him, it is the rule. You should understand."

"Yes, I understand."

Karen pinched the bead between his fingertips.

Sensing the shift in Karen's aura, Philomena asked, "You mean to fight?"

"What do you think?"

"To draw weapons against a fellow member of the Church?" Philomena's hand flipped, and the scythe she had previously put away materialized once more. "I thought you would be like me, and find fighting over such matters a rather tedious affair."

"Tell me his location."

"Do you often do this sort of thing?" Philomena gradually lowered her posture, bracing for a charge. "You are very decisive. It feels as though this is not your first time. If you defeat me, will you silence me?"

"You have violated the Regulations of Order."

"I imagine the occupants of that pottery shop are hardly ordinary folk. Therefore, I have not violated the Regulations of Order."

"You have read the Regulations of Order?"

"It gets tedious in dreams, so I read them."

"The volume you read is different from mine."

"Yours? Which edition is it?"

"It is in my head. It has not been printed yet."

Karen crushed the bead, and a miniature teleportation array flickered to life. He then grasped the hilt and drew forth the Sword of Alius.

The one Purr used was merely a phantom summoned through ritual magic; the one he summoned was the tangible, immense greatsword itself.

The cold gleam of the scythe and the grim severity of the greatsword had already begun to intertwine between the two.

Yet at that very moment, an eagle soared out from the sky above, circling several times overhead before flying away.

Philomena straightened her posture and once again put away her scythe.

She said:

"Very well. Come with me, I will take you to catch him."

"Hmm?"

This sudden reversal caught Karen somewhat off guard, for he had clearly discerned the battle lust in the girl's eyes just moments before.

"Don't you believe me?" Philomena asked. "I don't like to lie in my dreams."

"I do, but next time you could tell me a bit sooner."

Karen looked down at the Sword of Arius in his hand, sighing in his heart:

Alas, three thousand Order vouchers wasted just like that.

...

"Is there no tea in the house?" Lady Tangli looked at the cup of plain water in her hand, taking a small sip. "Well water?"

"I don't drink tea."

"You should always prepare some for guests."

"You are the first guest in nearly ten years."

"Some teas are meant to be aged."

Madame Felsher smiled, picking up her needles to resume knitting her sweater, and said, "You are just as you used to be, always so particular about life, as if nothing has changed—except you've grown a bit older."

"You could have left out that last half of the sentence."

Madame Felsher let out a sigh, saying, "Ah, old is old, what is there that can't be said, and what is there that can't be heard?"

"Alright, alright." Lady Tangli set down her cup. "In truth, I didn't want to come to your place; today's visit was merely a minor accident."

"I know, because you didn't bring a gift."

"Do you know, when I saw that drowsy, nodding girl, I immediately thought of the old you, and I guessed she must have something to do with you."

"She is my granddaughter, Philomena."

As she spoke, Madame Felsher reached her foot under and gave a kick; the man beneath the table clucked twice, crawled out to peek, and then nudged up to Lady Tangli's feet, sticking out his tongue and craning his neck.

"It's his child."

"Why torture yourself like this?" Lady Tangli asked. "And if torturing yourself isn't enough, you must torture your family too."

"Because... the pain." Madame Felsher finally set down her yarn work, her eyes widening. "Have you ever experienced such a feeling?"

"I suppose I have; my eldest daughter left me forever, and yet, I dare not even think of her, ha-ha-ha..."

"Speak then, your purpose in coming here."

"To resolve a misunderstanding, one related to that granddaughter of yours."

"A matter of the younger generation has involved you?"

"Mm, yes, it involved my son."

"Very well." Felsher gave a nudge to a wrapped ball of black yarn beside her; the yarn ball unraveled upon hitting the floor, condensing into the silhouette of an eagle that flew out the window.

"Do you need me to sit a while longer?" Lady Tangli asked.

"You haven't been here in so many years, yet you're in such a hurry to leave the moment you arrive?"

"I thought you would take the hint and let me go; tell me, what is it you want my help with?"

"A while ago, I had Philomena seek out a few of my old subordinates to investigate a surname, the surname of an Inquisitor family from the Church of Order, but the results showed that this surname seemed to have never existed at all.

Heh, if it weren't for the fact that so many people died in my family, I would have believed it."

"Isn't it quite normal that it can't be found?"

"Quite normal?"

"You tell me, within the Church of Order, what kind of person is qualified to place a family surname completely under absolute secrecy."

"You mean..."

"Dis has already entered the Temple of Order, becoming a supreme Temple Elder."

Felsher fell silent.

Lady Tangli looked down at Madame Felsher, offering words of comfort: "You know his talent better than I do; he was already so powerful back then, it could be said that the gates of the Temple of Order had long been opened for him in advance.

You have no chance for revenge, ever."

Lady Tangli stood up, walked to the doorway, stopped, and with her back to Madame Felsher, spoke: "Your granddaughter really looks like you when you were young; be a bit kinder to her."

"Ha-ha-ha..."

Madame Felsher's face was instantly filled with venomous malice, and she said through gritted teeth:

"No, he did not enter the Temple of Order! No, absolutely not!"

Lady Tangli's expression remained calm as she asked, "You are that certain?"

"Have you forgotten what he once said? He said the Temple of Order is a place for retirement."

"I am old, you are old, and he surely must be old too, so he went to retire."

The venomous look on Madame Felsher's face quickly faded away, a glimmer of remembrance and infatuation surfacing in her eyes as her voice turned tender:

"No, in my heart, he is forever young."