Chapter 487: They Are My People!

Chapter 487 They, Are My People!

For the past few days, Cullen had been waiting for Thyessen’s summons, but the elderly man showed absolutely no intention of meeting him alone. Since the day Cullen had been reprimanded by him, the two had not seen each other again.

In this, there was bound to be an intention to protect him, and of course, there was definitely a sense of disappointment as well.

Picking up a rare and valuable long cigar from the Castle family’s private collection, Cullen held it in his hand, slowly stroking it from top to bottom. Encountering a hard knot, he applied a little extra force to knead it open; yes, this process was quite stress-relieving.

Picking up the cigar cutter, he made a "click" sound, cutting a "V" shape.

He then picked up the blowtorch, directing it at the cigar head to light it. He blew on it slightly, and after confirming that the central area was glowing red, he handed the cigar to Alfred.

Afterward, Cullen leaned his body back against the chair, folded his hands over his lower abdomen, and closed his eyes.

Alfred began to puff on the cigar, maintaining a proper frequency and a consistent density with every exhale. As an excellent valet, whenever his young master needed it, he could become a perfectly qualified incense burner.

Time passed by slowly.

Finally,

The sky outside suddenly turned dark.

Alfred placed the cigar flat across one end of the ashtray.

Cullen opened his eyes, stood up, and walked over to the window. He looked at the vast expanse of black yet seemingly weightless sky ahead. Two completely different atmospheric qualities were interwoven harmoniously, giving the impression that a thin layer of rendering had been brushed over the primary black background. Perhaps, this was what was meant by holiness.

"Young Master, the Grand High Priest has arrived."

"Yes, he has."

Squads of black-armored knights approached from the distance. Every single one of them exuded an intimidating aura, and with each stride of their undead warhorses, a charred hoofprint was left upon the ground.

The Castle family pirates, who were originally responsible for the security of this villa, began to withdraw. It was quite orderly at first, but when the knights drew near and the gazes beneath their visors swept over them without a shred of emotion, the pirates' orderly retreat turned into a total rout.

They were clearly not enemies, and no battle had broken out, yet the way they fled was truly as pathetic and wretched as could be.

Miris looked at the miserable state of his family’s "elites" and smiled. He really wasn't angry; he only felt fortunate.

The Deland family and the Watson family had still not shown the slightest reaction, and the agreed deadline had already passed.

An old geezer who couldn't afford to lose, a woman devoid of courage, and a small child—their families would completely enter extinction because of their stupidity.

People, sometimes, were just so strange. He himself was already miserable enough, having witnessed his own children dying in droves before his eyes over the past few days, yet right now, Miris actually tasted a hint of happiness in his mouth.

Though a direct lineage had died out, the family’s true strength was actually still intact. At worst, a collateral branch would take power.

Perhaps, by relying on this sort of sacrifice and submissive attitude, Order would still use the Castle family to govern Fire Island.

In short, having someone more miserable than himself made his heart feel much more comfortable.

Nearly a thousand knights surrounded the perimeter of the villa, and immediately following them, a group of priests wearing God of Order robes marched inside in a neat line.

Above the villa, three giant eyes appeared. They began to scan the ground below, eradicating any possibility of concealment.

In the dark clouds above, a massive figure seemed to be swimming. However, because it did not fully reveal its true body, it was unclear what kind of ferocious beast or perhaps... divine beast it was.

Giragong, who had been crouching there all this time, lifted his head and looked toward that patch of dark clouds. A look of terror arose in his eyes, as if he had encountered a natural predator—and a natural predator that he could never hope to match.

"Stupid dog, guess what it is?"

Pu'er sat on Kevin's back. The cat and the dog were not inside the villa right now, but rather on a hillside along the outer perimeter.

"Woof."

"Yes, a Frost Dragon. I perceive a kind of natural suppression. This Grand High Priest’s travel arrangements really involve a grand display."

"Woof, woof."

"You're saying this was originally just his regular routine display? That seems true. When Lasma went to see Dis that time, it seemed like he just snuck over secretly."

"Woof."

"Right, this is the Divine Religion of Order."

...

Mobiten stood waiting at the courtyard gate. A black carriage drove up to the front, and he stepped forward to open the door. Grand High Priest Norton stepped down from inside.

Upon seeing the Grand High Priest, Miris took out a prepared medicine bottle, pulled out the stopper, drank it in one gulp, and then walked toward the cellar. He sat down on the steps at the entrance of the cellar, leaned the back of his head against the wall, and closed his eyes.

Cullen had originally intended to lead his team members to pay their respects to the Grand High Priest, but Wick had come out and demanded that everyone stay inside the villa, stating there was no need to go out to greet him, because he was afraid it would represent him.

Regarding this, Cullen could only obey the command.

However, he did not believe the elderly man was merely throwing a tantrum at the Grand High Priest. This should also be a form of political posture consideration. Sometimes, a clear conflict brought to its final resolution was far more effective than continuing to act in a passive-aggressive manner.

Grand High Priest Norton walked up the stairs, with Mobiten walking ahead of him.

When the Grand High Priest’s footsteps landed on this floor, Cullen and all his team members knelt down on one knee together, chanting in unison:

"Praise the God of Order, greetings to the Grand High Priest!"

Mobiten spoke to introduce them: "Grand High Priest, this is that observation group squad."

At this moment, Mobiten did not add any other further introductions.

"Foden," Grand High Priest Norton said with a smile, "they are your people."

"Yes, they are my people," Foden’s voice rang out.

The Whip-Wielder had come as well?

Because everyone was bowing their heads and kneeling, they had no way to lift their heads to face the truly great figures directly.

However, the Whip-Wielder beside the Grand High Priest would certainly not be an impostor.

Cullen raised his right hand, clenched it into a fist, and placed it against his chest. Seeing this, the other team members followed suit, making the exact same motion, and chanted in unison once more:

"Greetings to the Whip-Wielder! The Whip... for Order!"

Foden smiled: "Grand High Priest, I specially reviewed the report before I came. They made a massive contribution to stopping this disaster on Fire Island."

"Yes, a fine group of young people. They are the treasures of your Whip of Order. You must hide them well, lest they be poached by other departments."

"That won't do. Don't worry, I have made all the arrangements."

"Mm."

Simple pleasantries. This was practically an instinct for great figures. If Cullen and his group had not all been kneeling here on one knee to salute, this exchange probably wouldn't have occurred at all.

No, Cullen knew clearly that if Muri’s grandfather, Mobiten, had not spoken that single introductory line, this group of great figures would likely have walked right past them.

Whether or not to speak that single introductory line was, in fact, very important.

From this perspective, Mobiten had indeed lent a hand. Of course, this was also easy to understand; no matter how angry he was with Muri, it was impossible for him to neglect guiding his own family member.

The old geezer was rigid, stubborn, and serious, but he wasn't suffering from senile dementia.

This was precisely the advantageous effect of having someone close to the big leader. Sometimes, even if it was just for the sake of appearances, speaking a single sentence to the big leader or sharing a simple handshake could change the destiny of a person, a group of people, or even an entire industry.

The Grand High Priest of the Divine Religion of Order—his every word and action could indeed produce such an effect.

However, it stopped there.

The room door was opened, and the Grand High Priest walked inside along with Foden.

More than twenty other great figures of highly extraordinary status and position all remained in the corridor. These were individuals who, if they wished to publish an article, could directly occupy several large layouts of the "Order Weekly."

Yet right now, they could only stand outside obediently and wait, their expressions solemn.

Karen hesitated. Should he continue to remain here on one knee?

He had no idea how long the High Priest and Lord Thaisen would be speaking, and kneeling was a thoroughly uncomfortable posture.

Slowly, Karen stood up. Seeing their captain rise, the rest of the team followed suit. Though they were still essentially standing guard, this was undeniably far more comfortable.

...

Thaisen sat in his wheelchair, with Vik standing by his side.

The moment Norton stepped inside, Thaisen immediately crossed his hands, lowered his head, and spoke with profound sincerity:

"Praise be to the God of Order. I greet the High Priest."

Vik immediately brought over a chair.

Norton took his seat.

When Vik went to fetch a second chair, Foden shook his head slightly, indicating that he had no need for it.

Vik silently stepped back to his position behind Thaisen. He had cast aside his usual cynical demeanor. It was not an act; the moment this High Priest sat down, Vik felt his breathing tighten, as if his very soul were being gripped by an invisible force.

He could say with absolute certainty that his own mentor possessed nowhere near the commanding aura of the man before him!

Norton spoke, "A man of your advanced years truly ought to rest."

Thaisen smiled. "Soon. I will have plenty of time to rest very soon."

"Is there anything you wish to pass on or entrust?"

Thaisen raised his hand and said, "Could we speak a bit more bluntly? In a moment, you will wheel me down, and I will cooperate with you to play this scene out to perfection."

Hearing this, Norton nodded and replied, "Very well."

"I have always been deeply curious about one thing. In that expanded roundtable vote, why did I suffer such a devastating defeat? Speak plainly to me."

Norton opened his mouth to reply, "Before that meeting, did you believe that the factions and people standing on your side were numerous?"

"Indeed, I did. I originally thought that the expanded roundtable meeting could enforce a limitation on your authority. I never expected that it would end in a crushing defeat for my side. I simply cannot fathom it."

"That is because some of the factions shouting and waving banners for you were intentionally arranged by me to go to your side."

"Arranged by you? They were under your control all along?"

Norton shook his head and said, "I have no interest in controlling them. They had their own demands, but I deliberately suppressed them, effectively driving them over to your camp."

"And then?"

"I understand your aspirations. You and those behind you do not belong to the classical faction, nor are you fundamentalists. You are open-minded. You advocate for reforms based on the current situation, aiming to formulate an orderly system better suited for the present day, to recreate the balance that the 'Light of Order' once brought to the ecclesiastical circle.

In truth, I agree with many of your viewpoints and policies, and I will adopt your suggestions in the future. However, as things stand, I cannot do so—at least, not openly.

I require more power. I have my own blueprint and planning, and I do not wish to be hindered or restrained.

Those factions I drove to your side joined your ranks, which seemingly made your momentum grander. In reality, however, they acted far more ostentatiously, frantically, and extremely than you ever would.

Gradually, they aroused the animosity of those in the middle ground. That is the true reason you lost the expanded roundtable meeting."

"Is it really that simple?"

"Yes, it is just that simple. Of course, the primary reason remains that the believers, in their hearts, have grown weary of a system that demands all-encompassing sacrifice just to maintain a balance of order. My strategy catered to the current desire for change within the church.

Perhaps you are the rational one, but everyone has already begun to tire of this so-called 'rationality.'

Your relationship with the previous High Priest was far too close, and the High Priest before that was your mentor. People are simply bored of it.

When people desire change, no matter what your propositions are, they will instinctively feel aversion and rejection. They do not want to hear your explanations and expositions; they simply do not want to see your lineage continue to control the Holy Church.

It was not that I won the expanded roundtable meeting, but rather that you and those around you can no longer represent the inner voice of the majority of believers in this church."

"Is the voice of the majority... necessarily correct?" Thaisen inquired.

Norton shook his head and said, "Leave it to time. Between us, there is no right or wrong, only different paths. Just as our great God of Order slaughtered the deities wholesale at the end of the last era—if we do not remove all the stones obstructing the long-term operation of order, then the functioning of order becomes nothing more than a compromise built upon a fragile balance."

"You will lead the Holy Church into the abyss of war."

"I am no Last Pope of Light. In my heart, I am eternally loyal to the God of Order. This is a fact that even the Temple of Order cannot deny. In this world, no one can doubt my devotion to order."

Thaisen closed his eyes; he was exhausted.

High Priest Norton leaned back slightly as well. "In truth, I quite hoped that you and that group could live a bit longer, so that you might witness the changes I bring to the Holy Church. I hope to see a sense of resonance in the eyes of my detractors."

"I also hope you succeed, High Priest." Thaisen opened his eyes once more, a profound weariness reflecting within them. "But unfortunately, I will be unable to bear witness."

"I find it most regrettable."

"I do not wish for internal division within our church."

"I know."

"I will cooperate with you, but there are still some words I must continue to speak. This does not belong to the dispute over our paths, but rather in terms of concrete execution, where I believe improvements can be made."

"I came here precisely to listen to your criticisms and advice. Please, speak freely."

"Take this Island of Fire, for instance. It is one thing for the Remnants of Light to dare cause trouble; this is merely their current method of asserting their existence. However, the Light has been dormant for a thousand years. A thousand years is more than enough time to wash away a pile of gravel repeatedly.

This time, I witnessed the internal division within the Remnants of Light. When the true Light replaces the Remnants of Light and becomes the mainstream, the Holy Church must re-examine its attitude toward them."

High Priest Norton's expression turned grave as he asked, "What do you think should be done?"

"Either Order recognizes Light once more, but that is practically impossible. The entire ecclesiastical circle would never agree to the return of Light."

"Indeed." Norton nodded.

During the demise of Light, and over the past thousand years, all orthodox holy churches contributed to suppressing the Remnants of Light. Precisely because they knew how powerful Light once was, it was all the more impossible to allow it to reignite.

Thaisen spoke, "Alternatively, begin to secretly support it from the shadows."

High Priest Norton was somewhat surprised. "I thought you would suggest intensifying our crackdown."

"Continuing the crackdown will only cause the false Light to dissipate faster, accelerating the rise of the true Light. Why should we help our enemy become purer and stronger?

Any Light willing to accept our funding cannot possibly be the real thing. We cannot allow them to be replaced or perish, or else we will face a far more formidable enemy.

Cough, cough... This world already possesses Order. Light is somewhat superfluous."

"Yes, I understand. I will follow your suggestion and have plans drawn up and implemented upon my return."

"Furthermore, it is still about this Island of Fire. The pirate families, the Abyss—they all dared to perform such acts so flagrantly. Your initial series of actions was, in truth, a form of indulgence toward the ecclesiastical circle. I hope..."

"I will correct and remedy it. I am merely waiting for a more suitable opportunity."

"Heh..."

"What are you smiling at?"

"It is nothing. It is enough that you know. You must ensure the ecclesiastical circle continues to respect Order."

"I will."

"What about the Mipos Archipelago? I have already submitted the report."

"I have reviewed it. Sanction plans are currently being formulated."

Hearing this, Thaisen felt a wave of exhaustion. The High Priest's attitude was far better than he had anticipated, but deep divisions ultimately remained between the two sides, a point that could never be reconciled.

What he could not achieve during his lifetime would be even more impossible after his death.

"One last thing. Once I have spoken it, I will accompany you downstairs to face everyone and bring this matter to a complete end."

"Please, speak."

"I am not speaking on behalf of the internal families of the Church or the conservative factions you speak of. However, if something exists, there must be a reason for its being. They may indeed hinder the speed of this great vessel of our Church, but they also serve as its ballast. Radicals and their reforms can easily shatter the original ecosystem and tempo of our Church's progress. If you force a person who has walked slowly for years to suddenly burst into a run, complications will inevitably arise—especially among the youth, who are the very future of our order.

Wick, call the members of that observation group outside to come in."

Wick immediately looked toward the High Priest, who gave a slight nod of approval.

Only then did Wick open the door, gesturing toward Karen and the others to signal them inside.

Karen felt a twinge of doubt, but he nevertheless led his subordinates into the room one by one, where they lined up neatly along the wall.

Once Karen and his group had entered, Wick remained standing by the doorway, intentionally refraining from closing the door immediately, which meant those outside could still see and hear the events unfolding within.

Theisen extended a hand, saying, "I am thirsty."

Wick was stationed by the door, and the High Priest remained seated.

Forden, the Whip-Bearer, smiled as he walked to the side, picked up a cup of tea that had been placed there, and delivered it into Theisen's hand.

"Splash!"

Theisen threw the tea directly into Forden's face.

The Whip-Bearer possessed ten thousand ways to evade the oncoming spray of tea at that moment, yet he chose not to dodge, permitting the liquid to drench his face, leaving quite a few tea leaves clinging to his hair and visage.

The magnificent Whip-Bearer now appeared thoroughly disheveled and pathetic.

Theisen cursed, "What a fine group of young people they originally were, and now they have turned into petty opportunists at such a tender age, knowing nothing but how to gamble and place bets! I feel pity for these children!

If we continue to instruct the youth of our Church in this manner, where then lies the hope for our Church's future?

The members of this observation group ought to be dismissed from office, interrogated, and exiled to set a negative example, thereby cleansing this corrupt atmosphere!"

Forden did not grow angry, his face still wearing that faint smile as he used his hand to wipe away the tea leaves from his face. Wick trotted over to offer a towel, but Forden gently pushed it aside.

The Whip-Bearer looked at Theisen, staring at this dying old man, as he extended a finger toward Karen and the others standing there, pronouncing his words one by one:

"They, however, belong to me."

———

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