Chapter 426: Consciousness of the Pen

Chapter 426: The Consciousness of the Pen

"Awaiting your instructions."

Then,

The quill fell silent.

Karen, too, fell silent.

They sat thus for about ten minutes—which is to say, both sides maintained a mutual silence for ten minutes.

Yet, according to what Vice Dean Davinci had said earlier, the "flow of spiritual time" inside this little room differed from the perception of the outside world; it might have been mere moments.

Karen's thoughts traveled in a circle.

Though he could not see the dynamics within the neighboring two rooms, he knew without guessing that the quills in their rooms would absolutely never speak to them like this.

So,

What had this quill perceived?

Though in terms of path, he and the God of Order had differences—one could even say their paths were opposed;

What Karen could not deny was that on this road of Order's faith, he walked the exact same pattern as the God of Order did in those years.

Furthermore, because both he and the God of Order were individuals who had "returned to life from death," certain aspects would naturally yield a few coincidences.

This quill was not the original entity; it was merely a single projection cast from a divine artifact. Once he walked out of this little room, the quill would wipe its own memory.

It was like buying a car where the requirement was to strip down, strip down, and strip down further, eliminating everything that could be eliminated until only a chassis and four wheels remained.

The Church of Principles called this phenomenon the "Mechanical Mode." The phantom of the quill before his eyes was the lowest-configured mechanical mode.

It was very difficult to deceive because its core was still present, allowing it to test faith here;

Yet it was also very easily deceived. If it could but open its eyes to take a single look, it would know he was not the God of Order. But now, it seemed to have mistaken him for the God of Order.

It was a very strange feeling, and a situation that felt utterly absurd, yet it had truly happened.

This was not due to mere coincidence, for before this, every single piece of groundwork had already been laid.

Then,

What next?

Karen pondered this question. Should he directly command it to give him the highest score, so that the big shots who reviewed his archival records in the future could see his loyalty to the Church of Order at a single glance?

But if he really made that request, Karen felt his horizon would be terribly narrow.

After all, from the standpoint of this quill, it had already identified him as *that* person. how could it possibly give him a low score?

Would that not be opposing itself, being disloyal to itself?

So,

What ought he to ask?

Karen formed a fist with his hand, placed it before his mouth, and coughed.

"Ahem."

Immediately after, Karen adjusted his seating posture anew, rested both hands upon the armrests of the chair, and leaned his body back slightly:

"Who am I?"

The quill phantom began its flickering and distorting once more. At last, it calmed down, answering in a tone akin to a hymn of praise:

"You are the true supreme of the world;

The final destination of all laws;

The sole sovereign above the gods;

The end of all chaos and confusion;

Your gaze pierces the infinite, discerning the past and the future;

Your palm tightly grips the chains, binding the rotation of eras;

Your will merges into the codex, establishing the imperishable order;

Great... God of Order."

Karen licked his lips, confirming that he had indeed been mistaken for another.

So, what should the next question be?

"How did the God of Light perish?"

The quill flickered and distorted once again, then answered:

"I am guilty; I do not know."

Did not know?

This low-spec "brain capacity" truly seemed rather small.

Karen still wanted to try again. It was not easy to come by such an opportunity; if he failed to ask something of substance, it would truly feel a pity.

"How did the previous era end?"

"I am guilty; I do not know."

"Where should the God of Or... where should I be right now?"

"You are everywhere. Wherever Order operates, there is your shadow."

Karen wanted very much to laugh. So this quill knew absolutely nothing of other useful information besides discussing faith with you?

"I am guilty.

I beg your permission to send a request to my superior branch. After ascending through the tiers, my slumbering original body will also awaken.

It will be able to bring you better service."

"No need."

"Yes, complying with your will."

Karen propped his elbow upon his knee and cradled his chin with his palm. If the quill's original body were to awaken, his identity would surely be impossible to hide.

When that time came, it would not be a matter of satisfying his own curiosity; it would likely mean he would be captured and sliced up into specimens to satisfy the curiosity of the group at the very top.

Still, he truly felt a bit unwilling to resign himself to this.

Karen prepared to make one final attempt, asking: "Where is Tyranus now?"

This quill belonged to Tyranus; Tyranus was its original master. If it could not even answer this, then it would completely prove that it was now just a pure "tool pen."

To Karen's surprise, this time, the quill actually gave an answer other than "I am guilty":

"Lord Tyranus is currently slumbering, awaiting your summon."

Slumbering?

Summon?

Karen could not help but recall the night after he received the certification of the [Scythe of War]. In his dream, he had been oppressed by a terrifying aura, and from the abyss before him came a roar:

"Order, how much longer must I wait?"

So, what exactly happened at the end of the last era?

An era is a unit of time, and simultaneously, a record of historical events.

The conclusion of the era before last was marked by the fall of the God of Eternity; the rise of the faction of Light and its assault against the faction of the God of Eternity was the defining event that initiated the last era.

Yet the end of the last era could not be pinpointed to a specific year; rather, after a sudden passage of time, everyone abruptly realized that the gods seemed to have not appeared for a very long while.

Gradually, "the absence of the gods" became the commencement of this current era.

What on earth led to this situation where the gods no longer appeared?

Tyrannus was in a deep slumber, waiting to be awakened, which meant he had not fallen, and to some extent, it even implied he still possessed his freedom; otherwise, the concept of awaiting a summons would not exist.

Did this also mean that the four great retinues and the twelve Knights of Order still existed as well, all locked in a state of slumber just like Tyrannus, waiting for the return of the God of Order to awaken them?

No... no, he should not think this way.

Karen reached up and lightly tapped his own forehead; to the God of Order, whether his former followers were dead or alive made absolutely no difference at all, for he only needed them to preserve their physical remains, and when the God of Order returned, he could "resurrect" them one by one.

Moreover, in Karen's conjecture, the twelve Knights of Order might originally have been twelve powerful existences resurrected by the God of Order.

Once the God of Order departed, they lost their source of sustenance and naturally reverted to a state of "death."

"Heh..."

Karen let out a self-deprecating smile; he was clearly undergoing a faith examination, so how had his thoughts drifted all the way here?

Some matters were still far too distant from him at present, and there was simply no need to waste peace of mind over them, just like that secret Gaetanburt and Funitas had been guarding all along, which Karen had quite decisively chosen to hand directly over to his superiors.

Alright, let it end here then; nothing else could be pried out anyway, so it was time to finish.

Karen stood up and spoke, saying, "The examination is over, produce the results."

Right at that moment, the quill pen said, "According to the primal rules, I am to erase the traces of my own memory after completing a task. Your will is superior to the primal rules; may I ask if I should erase the memory regarding this conversation with you?"

"Erase it."

"Your command is to erase this segment of memory. May I ask if this includes the third consciousness thought-thread?"

"The third consciousness thought-thread?"

"Yes."

"Whose thought-thread?"

"My scribe... my scribe... my scribe..."

Just then, a phantom silhouette appeared behind the quill pen, its hand tightly grasping it as if writing something, but it was not Tyrannus; Karen had seen murals of Tyrannus, and had seen his statues even more.

That phantom silhouette was an elder, the old man gripping the quill in his right hand while holding a cigarette between the fingers of his left.

It was the deputy director of this chivalric order hospital, the head of this faith examination department... Davins.

Yet this scene appeared highly illogical, because his duty resembled that of a magic formation maintainer; when someone needed to use this place, he would activate the formation, and on ordinary days he was responsible for maintenance, and that should be all.

But in this vision, he was actually able to hold this quill pen and engage in writing.

This defied logic entirely, akin to a member of the airport ground crew stripping off his uniform and directly taking the controls to pilot the airplane.

A third consciousness thought-thread?

Karen sat back down; matters that were too distant and pitched at too high a level were useless even if known now, but he did not mind knowing a bit more about the people right under his nose.

"What is the third consciousness thought-thread?"

"Lord Tyrannus is the first consciousness thought-thread, possessing mastery over everything of mine. I, after the division of branches, belong to my own second consciousness thought-thread. He is the third consciousness thought-thread. The third consciousness thought-thread can exert a limited degree of influence over the second consciousness thought-thread."

"To which consciousness thought-thread do I belong?"

"You are the supreme sovereign; your will is the sole criterion for all my principles."

"How much influence does the third consciousness thought-thread have over you?"

"Ninety-nine percent."

"And you call that a limited degree of influence?"

"When I am not performing a faith examination, the second consciousness thought-thread enters dormancy, and the third consciousness thought-thread shall possess the authority to take custody of me."

Karen's gaze narrowed as he asked, "Can he perceive what is happening here right now?"

If that were the case, wouldn't it mean his identity had already been exposed?

"He cannot. I am currently in a working state, and the third consciousness thought-thread is unable to interfere with or influence me; here, everything concerning you shall be kept strictly confidential."

"What does he use you for? I am referring to the third consciousness thought-thread."

"Writing and recording; I cooperate to write and record his spiritual imprint."

"Let me see it."

"I am guilty, because that portion of memory has already been erased and does not exist."

"Then how do you know it occurred?"

"The remaining one percent."

Karen let out a somewhat helpless sigh.

"If the great you permits, I can contact the other eleven quill pens here to make inquiries; if the third consciousness thought-thread has an uncompleted spiritual imprint, it can be located."

"An uncompleted one?"

"Yes, uncompleted spiritual imprints will be temporarily preserved inside the quill pens."

"The other eleven quill pens?"

"There are twelve of me here in total. I do not have an uncompleted spiritual imprint here, but one might exist within one of them; the third consciousness thought-thread is not restricted to using only a single pen to write spiritual imprints."

Karen quickly reasoned through the motive for doing this; writing with only a single quill pen would cause higher wear and tear on that pen, subsequently triggering suspicion, whereas if the pens were rotated for writing, the overall wear could be controlled.

"Twelve quill pens. Counting you, three are currently in a working state. Can the ones in a non-working state be connected to?"

"They can. Your divine decree is the highest principle I must obey, and it is the same for them."

"What I want to ask is, when you connect to them, will the outside world notice?"

There ought to be twelve small rooms here, but when entering, Karen had only seen three, and the other nine quill pens had not tangibly manifested; if investigating this matter caused the magic formation to activate on its own, it would definitely arouse suspicion.

Especially now that it was practically confirmed that Deputy Director Davins was anything but simple.

"They will not. Even in a dormant state, a minimum of one percent of the second consciousness thought-thread remains preserved. I am of equal rank with them, but your supreme will can allow me to awaken them to cooperate."

"Then let us begin, start with the nine dormant ones first."

"Yes, please wait a moment."

Following this, Karen watched as a second quill pen began to appear beside the one in front of him, and then that second one disappeared, reappeared, disappeared again, reappeared once more...

This process felt somewhat protracted; of course, Karen also understood that it was merely the time within his spiritual perception being stretched out.

Stepping into this small room was equivalent to automatically acknowledging and establishing a "spiritual bridge" with the room and the quill pen inside, and it was the effect of the highest-tier spiritual bridge formation.

But right now, Karen still wished a glass of iced water could magically appear by his side.

Finally, the quill pen came to a halt, and it spoke, saying, "There are no uncompleted spiritual imprints within the nine dormant pens."

"Could they be among the remaining two quills currently at work?"

"Forgive my ignorance, for I am guilty of not knowing."

"If we establish a connection with them, what would the consequences be?"

"It will cause those currently active to cease their labor, and simultaneously, the subjects under inspection will be able to perceive what is transpiring here with equal clarity."

"May I take control myself? What I mean is, can I soothe the subjects they are presently dealing with?"

"You can. You may hold me."

"Very well."

Karen rose to his feet, walked behind the desk, and reached out to grasp the quill before him.

There was no physical sensation of mass, yet in spirit it felt as though he held it, a feeling akin to a numbed hand, though your appendage was not truly fluttering at high frequency like sealed wings.

Now, Karen stood facing the chair where he had previously been seated.

...

"I am not contradicting you; I concede that your thesis was correct in the era of your birth, for that was an age rife with divine conflicts and ecclesiastic wars, where even deities fell with regularity and the succession of churches was only more rapid.

In such an epoch, survival was surely the absolute priority, so in cultivating believers it was necessary to adopt a net-casting method, diluting the concept of Order to make it more readily grasped, thereby blanketing and reaching more potential converts at the first opportunity.

Yet that was a choice born of necessity in the absence of deep cultivation. Times have changed; in this current epoch the gods do not manifest, and divine wars are no longer so frequent. If we persist in that old, crude method of spreading faith, it will only result in a decline in efficiency.

First of all, the Church of Order already possesses a highly mature and comprehensive internal structure..."

"That will do, Alfred."

"Hmm?"

Caught in the heat of his eloquence, Alfred stared blankly for a moment, then looked ahead of him, only to discover a figure holding a quill had appeared behind the desk.

"Young Master?"

"We will speak of this after we leave. For now, allow me to work in peace."

"Yes, Young Master."

Alfred lowered his head and wrote in his small booklet with a fountain pen:

"I am struck with trepidation, for when that great existence manifested a 'miracle' before my eyes, I was no longer as thrilled as I once was.

I am filled with pride, for I know this stems from a devotion so absolute within my heart that anything occurring to that great existence is accepted as entirely natural."

Karen tapped the quill in his hand against the one on the desk, and after a short while received a response: nothing.

"Alfred, you may continue."

"Understood, Young Master."

Karen's figure vanished.

Alfred resumed, "Come, let us continue. Where exactly was I when I was correcting you?"

...

"Your devotion to Order lacks clarity; you must comprehend the meaning of Order more profoundly, using your heart to perceive its true essence!"

"You must use your eyes to observe the beauty of Order with care, and use your ears to harken to the beautiful rhythm that belongs to Order!"

"You cannot remain in this muddled state any longer, or else your faith will fail to deepen further. Though I can sense your acknowledgment of Order and your reverence for the God of Order, these are not enough; you possess far more potential waiting to be unearthed!"

"I can grant you a passing grade this time, but do you know that a mere passing grade is an insult to a child of a church family like yourself!"

Richard's buttocks had already left his chair; he was crouching on the floor, holding his head in both hands like a prisoner of war.

Under the spiritual oppression of the quill's faith, a sense of suffocation had overtaken him, as though your tutor had extracted your soul, held it over a candle flame to roast, and scolded you all the while.

This had nothing to do with martial strength; unless one wished or rather dared to shatter this with brute force, anyone whose faith lacked sufficient piety was bound to suffer such immense pressure.

Just then, Richard suddenly realized that the voice of the quill had fallen silent.

Plagued by doubt, he raised his head and saw Karen standing behind the desk, holding the quill.

It must be understood that from childhood to adulthood, his grandparents had spoiled him, his mother had abandoned the family, and his father was mentally unhinged;

Consequently, Richard had rarely been disciplined by anyone. Even if his father had recently taken a liking to leather-belt education, that could hardly be counted as proper guidance.

Now, the only one truly capable of disciplining Richard, and the only one Richard was willing to obey and learn from, was Karen.

Thus, upon witnessing this scene, Richard did not immediately assume it was the real Karen like Alfred had done; instead, he instantly pulled a long, aggrieved face and cried out in utter misery:

"Damn it, do you have to be this ruthless? It even comes with character-simulation features?"