Chapter 468: He Smiled

Chapter 468: He Smiled

The concluding ritual was not complex—one might even call it simple—for the true difficulty lay in deriving it from absolute nothingness.

Alfred and Mars quickly arranged the disposable ritual setup, and once finished, Mars wiped the sweat from his brow and spoke:

"From the looks of it, there was supposed to be a permanent altar here to perform the concluding ritual."

"Yes, indeed," Alfred nodded, "it must have been destroyed in advance. Everything was meticulously planned."

Purr asked, "Is it ready?"

"It is ready, we may begin." Alfred placed a small energy stone into the central hub of the formation, "Ask the young master for his word; we can commence at any moment."

Purr turned toward the mouth of the pit and shouted below, "Karen, everything is ready up here, can we begin?"

Karen gazed down into the pitch-black depths beneath him. The puppet from earlier had fallen down there, and a fleeting thought crossed his mind to go down and fish it out.

Yet, the day's alternating twists of pleasant surprises and sudden frights, repeated over and over, had been far too overwhelming; he felt entirely exhausted in both mind and body, and merely wished to bring this to a swift end.

"Begin."

"Radio elf, start!"

Alfred activated the concluding ritual, and soon, wisps of a faint red aura drifted toward them, before cascading down into the well.

All around, there arose a sound akin to the whistling of the wind, or perhaps the gentle song of a woman.

"What melody is that?" Mars asked in confusion.

Alfred, drawing upon his past experience as a radio host, replied, "A lullaby."

The soft, black soil of the earth began to coalesce, shaping itself into a sculpture that bore a striking resemblance to Karen.

Everything, absolutely everything, was returning to a state of quietude and serenity.

The violent energy fluctuations within the bone before Karen also subsided at this moment. He pulled its remaining section from his chest; it floated there peacefully, then slowly drifted downward.

A beam of red light shot into the well, sinking to the very bottom along with it.

With a splash of water,

Karen climbed out of the pit. Upon reaching the ground, he sat down first, letting out a long, deep sigh of relief.

"Young Master."

Alfred immediately knelt down to tend to the wounds on Karen's chest, but as he tore away the divine robes covering that area, he found that only a red friction mark remained on Karen's chest.

Purr said, "His body has been remolded; the wounds are bound to be healed."

"Young Master, let me support you so we can leave."

Karen shook his head, extended his hand, and pointed at the newly formed statue, saying to Alfred:

"Scratch out the face."

...

"To think you actually arranged the concluding ritual," the woman in red sighed, "well then, I must return to the bottom of the well to continue my imprisonment."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye? Will you come back to see me again?"

"If I defeat my grandmother, I suppose I will."

"I hope you win."

"When I return next time, if the opportunity arises, you can reside in my dreams, and I will take you away from here."

"Seize control of your own destiny first. You are not yet worthy of saying such things. Just as you mentioned, sunshine and kindness are not inherently positive traits."

The figure of the woman in red vanished.

In reality, Philomena opened her eyes, looked at Muri and the others standing around her, and spoke:

"I am fine now. The captain should have resolved everything over there."

Muri let out a breath, remarking with emotion, "Even though I did absolutely nothing from beginning to end, I feel so exhausted."

Bart and Ventura nodded in unison; running around pretending to be busy was far more agonizing than doing actual, earnest work.

Eisly spoke up, "Look, the captain and the others are coming out of the forest."

Karen allowed Alfred to support him. It was not that his body was currently too weak to walk, but rather that he felt like a "newborn infant" right now, not yet accustomed to his own body. The sensation of walking felt somewhat foreign, and his balance was rather difficult to master.

"This island has already been marked with coordinates. In the future, this will serve as a special secret base of ours, and we will certainly return." Karen paused, then continued, "Now, we can set sail for our return journey."

"Yes, Captain!"

...

The sea beast sailed through the waters, accompanied by the moonlight in the sky.

Alfred sat near the edge with a small notebook, a fountain pen in his right hand, while his left hand brushed through his own hair.

Sitting before him were Purr and Kevin. A cat, a dog, and a radio were engaging in a secret exchange via the "antenna."

Purr and Kevin spoke of the matters that had been inconvenient to disclose publicly earlier, while Alfred listened in silence.

"Do you know how I felt at that moment? When I stood between the God of Light and the God of Order."

Alfred replied, "If the three of you were to strike together, there probably wouldn't be anyone in this world who could defeat you. Even the Main Gods would have to retreat immediately."

Purr said, "Hmm, radio elf, I know you are teasing me, but I still feel very pleased hearing it. You have provided a rather excellent perspective. The three of us standing together makes for the strongest combination in the world, haha-meow!"

"So, did you agree to help the Goddess of the Dark Moon seek vengeance against the Moon God Church on behalf of the young master?"

"Eh?" Purr stared at Alfred once more, "Radio elf, what do you mean by that?"

"Woof, woof."

"Yes, if circumstances do not allow us to break the promise, it was you who agreed to it anyway, and it has nothing to do with the young master. When the time comes, the divine curse will only fall upon you."

"I am hardly afraid of that. Is there any curse in this world more dreadful than being a cat for over a hundred years?"

"There is," Alfred pointed at Kevin.

Kevin glared.

"Alright, there really is," Purr sighed, "but back then, I feared that if I didn't truly agree, that bone would have exploded. We wouldn't even be here right now discussing whether breaking a promise would bring a curse upon us."

"True," Alfred agreed with Purr's reasoning, "in any case, no specific time was agreed upon. We can take our time and see, there is no rush. When it comes to revenge, the young master has always managed things with absolute steadiness. Vicolai is still alive even now."

Purr asked in confusion, "Who is Vicolai?"

"The one who stole Mr. Pavaro's credit. The young master said he would put an end to him."

"Oh, that one. I had almost forgotten about him."

"Since even you forgot, then others must have forgotten about it as well, which means it is precisely the time to strike.

His grandfather is the Bishop of the York City Archdiocese. The subsequent chain reaction of killing him will be massive; we cannot allow people to instantly link it back to Pavaro.

Previously, the young master had actually considered taking action, but the incident with Madam Sidra stirred things up and tightened the scrutiny again. However, it should be about time once we return this time. The young master has kept his name recorded in his notebook all along."

"Actually, I feel that our little Karen holds quite a grudge."

"I believe the young master is even better at remembering those who are good to him."

"I can never win an argument against you, radio fairy," Purr said, lying on his side upon the ground, idly catching his own tail with a paw. "I suspect that scene is something I shall savor for a very long time."

"You said that just a moment ago."

"But I wanted to say it again, because I know you are envious."

"Indeed I am."

"Still, do you think Cullen will become more and more..."

"I have faith in the Young Master. He will surely forge a path of Order that bears his own unique signature."

"Tell me, once we return, will there be a promotion in order?"

"Theoretically speaking, yes. Should the Whip of Order be reconstituted, both the Young Master and Captain Neo ought to be heavily relied upon. That is, of course, assuming Captain Neo did not perish in the Mipos Archipelago."

"What sort of position are we talking about?"

"A mid-level post within the York City Region. The exact nature will depend on how much authority the Headquarters of the Whip of Order grants to the lower echelons following the reforms."

"You certainly have analyzed this thoroughly, radio fairy."

"This is merely what is expected of me."

"It is rather amusing. Two other churches are waging war, yet your lot simply wades in to make a brief appearance, accomplishes nothing of actual substance, and yet can return home to claim the laurels and rise through the ranks."

"This is standard practice. State dignitaries and actors in the mundane world do precisely the same thing. After all, it is a political show that costs them nothing; one would be a fool not to indulge in it.

The first sentence is always an expression of concern for the situation, and the second is invariably a plea for peace;

yet in truth, it is no different from someone standing by their apartment window during a neighborhood brawl, shelling peanuts while watching the spectacle, shouting 'stop fighting' with their mouth while secretly wishing the brains would be bashed out just for a grander show."

"Do you view the divine churches as worldly states?"

"I believe it is a manifestation of weakening the mystical attributes of religion. However, I am still far too distant from the sort of resolve the Young Master possesses to tear away the 'mantle' from the gods themselves."

"The Goddess of the Dark Moon bowed to a more powerful deity, not to a mortal. At least, that was the case in that particular scene."

"When a god is capable of bowing, the brilliance of their divinity grows dim."

At this point, Alfred turned his head to look at Kevin, who was crouching beside him.

Kevin immediately raised a canine paw, gesturing for him to hold his tongue.

Yet Alfred continued regardless. "In truth, merely looking at Kevin every day is a process of continuously desecrating the divine in our ordinary lives."

Kevin rolled his eyes at Alfred. Very well, he had brought shame upon the gods.

"I truly hope we return soon. I miss the large bed at home. I genuinely never realized before that drifting upon the vast sea could be so detrimental to one's fur."

"Is it possible that you simply did not possess so much fur in the past?"

"You speak with great accuracy."

...

Aside from the select few holding their secret council, the vast majority of the people were actually asleep, resting.

Memphis lay there, the expression in his slumber gradually contorting into one of agony. He was dreaming, trapped once more in the nightmare that had tormented him for many a year.

Within the dream,

he stood upon the floorboards, watching his elder sister curled into a corner up ahead.

Instinctively, he wished to draw closer, but the moment he took a single step, his sister flinched like a startled beast and suddenly glared toward him.

Within his sister's eyes, he beheld nothing but fury and violent malice.

"Ah!"

His sister parted her lips, baring her teeth at him, while terrifying plumes of black mist continuously spilled and unfurled from her form.

In his memories, his sister had always been a deeply gentle soul. Every thunderous, rainy night of his childhood had been spent with her cradling his small frame to sleep.

His sister was remarkably gifted; she would teach him the Key to the Magic Square and explain countless intricacies of formation arrays to him. Even their father, a man habitually austere, would soften into gentleness in her presence.

He could still recall the scent she bore—that faint, pleasant fragrance of lavender.

His sister had once asked him what sort of girlfriend he wished to find when he grew up, and without the slightest hesitation, he had replied that he wanted someone just like her.

Then, he had asked what sort of boyfriend she hoped to find in the future. She had replied that she did not know; perhaps she would never seek a boyfriend in this life, let alone marry or bear children. She remarked that merely attempting to contemplate such a life felt entirely exhausting.

He had believed her;

yet what he did not know then was that those who fancied saying such things were often the quickest to find their other half.

At a very tender age, his sister had been admitted exceptionally into the department where their father worked, and subsequently, owing to her extraordinary talents, she was drafted into another, specialized department.

Their father had been overjoyed at the time, for he felt he no longer needed to place any expectations upon his son; relying on his daughter alone would suffice to elevate the renown of the 'Guman' house.

His sister was the pride of the entire family.

Then, one day, he discovered his sister sitting alone in her room, staring intently at a letter.

Fulfilling the role of a mischievous youth, he leaned against the doorframe, asking with a smile: "A love letter?"

In posing that question, as a brother, he felt neither bitterness nor a sense of loss. As family, as the closest of kin, the deepest yearning of one's heart was always for the other to fare better. A selfish desire for possession was, conversely, a baser instinct.

His sister sighed, waving the envelope in her hand toward him as she lamented:

"I rather wish he had written a love letter to me, yet he is actually introducing me to which model of coffin from his family's business has been selling quite well of late."

Upon hearing this, he understood instantly, asking: "It seems he belongs to our own church then? It appears you harbor feelings for him?"

"Yes, he is of our church. We met during a joint mission."

"Does he possess any quality that particularly draws you to him?"

His sister fell into contemplation for a moment, before countering with a question of her own:

"Being exceptionally handsome—does that count?"

"I imagined you would tell me of some other virtues, Sister."

"If someone is exceedingly handsome, it makes one far more willing to discover his other virtues."

"That makes a great deal of sense. However, do Father and Mother know of this?"

"They do not. I have not told them. There would be no real issue with Mother, but I do not wish Father to know, for his family background is quite ordinary, and Father would never approve of him."

"I do not believe family background matters in the slightest."

"Indeed, Eisen. Family background itself does not matter."

"Will you continue to correspond with him, Sister?"

"Presumably, possibly, perhaps. With the next mission, we might very well be deployed together again."

Over the course of the following year, Eisen witnessed the transformation within his sister. From the courtesy their father extended to her at the dining table, it was evident that her position and status within that secret department were steadily rising.

In daily life, whenever she returned home between missions, Eisen could also discern that she seemed to be anticipating something. She had even packed dresses into her luggage for her next deployment!

From childhood to adulthood, he, as her brother, had scarcely ever seen his sister wear a dress.

Then,

on the eve of that fateful mission.

His sister confided in him that the man had confessed his love to her.

Oh, that slow-witted yet strikingly handsome fellow has finally found the courage to profess his love to my sister!

"He said his courage stemmed from his father. He told his father he had fallen for a girl, though her family stood far above his own. Then, his father encouraged him, urging him to pursue me."

"Sister, I feel that writing this to tell you only makes him seem... so very immature."

"Does it not rather show his sincerity, holding absolutely nothing back from me?"

"Fine, sister, whatever you say. So, do you intend to write back and tell him you accept?"

"No, I must remain a bit reserved. Who told him to make me wait so long before confessing? Regardless, our next joint mission is fast approaching; I shall give him my answer when we meet."

"Will he come to York City?"

"I do not know, but I would much rather visit his home."

"Hmm? Why is that?"

"Because he always tells me that in his home, family always comes first. I adore his family's atmosphere, that feeling of real family being together."

"Is our home not like that?"

"I do not know. When I was very young, I always felt Mother was a bit... toward Father, though it is much better now, and it should get even better from here."

"But you should at least have him come over, so I can take a look at my brother-in-law."

"Of course, I will bring him home. I want to hold his arm right in front of Father and Mother, and tell you all that he is the man I have chosen."

Esen had been waiting all along for his sister to bring her "brother-in-law" through the door.

Yet, what he received instead was tidings of a great calamity.

Father returned that night with a darkened face, telling him and Mother that his sister's mission had met with a terrible disaster, and the entire squad had perished.

Their usually stern father wept aloud there,

Mother did not weep, nor did he.

For he believed his sister could not be gone; she must still be alive, perhaps having already gone to the "brother-in-law's" home.

Because he could perceive no grief.

Many years passed, and he grew up, becoming a man and meeting his own wife. He remembered the words his sister had spoken—that family background mattered not, so long as there was love.

Then, his son Richard was born, and watching his son gradually grow filled him with joy. He reasoned that his sister must be unable to return or contact the family for some reason, but surely, she must be living happily.

Until one day,

At night,

The nightmare arrived!

"Little brother... little brother... save me... save me..."

He watched as his sister's body was bound by chains, links coursing out from within her form to wrench her tight. His sister was in agony, immense agony, shrieking and wailing.

Anxiously, he urged the Key of the Rubik's Cube forward, seeking a way to unlock the shackles of his sister's torment.

In nightmare after nightmare, he tried time and again, only to fail time and again.

He could not even calculate what manner of horror his sister had actually encountered!

And what brought the nightmare to an end was a sword that suddenly fell upon his sister, terminating it all, causing her shrieks to stop abruptly.

He did not hate that sword; though it had slain his sister, he knew clear