Chapter 543: Evil God Accepting Disciples

Chapter 543: The Evil God Takes an Apprentice

"Master Cullen, here is the menu for the late-night supper."

Madame Jenny handed the menu to Cullen, who took it, swept his eyes over it, and shook his head, saying:

"It is far too much. There are only five of us, a cat, and a dog. We cannot possibly finish all this, and it would be a terrible waste.

Let us do this: keep only the first five courses, one portion per person. Remove the alcohol, and serve ice water for everyone. That will be all."

"Very well, Master Cullen." Madame Jenny took back the menu. After a moment of hesitation, she summoned her courage and asked, "Shall I have Eunice come in to arrange the settings?"

"Could Eunice arrange the formal dinner tomorrow instead, Madame? Tonight’s circumstances are somewhat peculiar, and I do not wish for my fiancée to be exposed to these matters prematurely. I ask for your understanding, Madame."

"No, no, no, I meant nothing else by it, I was merely asking, merely asking. You have the final say, Master Cullen."

Madame Jenny immediately shook her head with a smile, then, cradling the menu, walked out of the dining room to instruct the servants to prepare.

Cullen, of course, understood Madame Jenny’s underlying intent. As a mother, looking out for her own daughter was her fundamental right.

It was just that this simple supper was rather extraordinary. For anyone who had been led into the theater by Alfred, the secret was something that had to be kept even from their own families.

As for telling Eunice the secret now and having Alfred proselytize her into one of his believers?

That would be sheer madness!

Ventura, who had showered and changed into fresh clothes, walked into the dining room with damp hair. Upon seeing Cullen sitting in his wheelchair, a smile instantly broke across his face.

"It seems you had a wonderful time playing with your companions today."

"Mm-hmm."

"Where are the other two?"

"They were carried off for medical treatment."

Cullen nodded, entirely unsurprised by this outcome. After all, he had personally witnessed Ventura pummeling them for the entire afternoon.

Just then, Muri walked in and took a seat on an adjacent chair.

Ventura said to Cullen, "Brother Muri said he will begin guiding my training starting tomorrow."

Cullen said, "Treasure this opportunity."

"I will, Captain."

"Master."

"Captain."

Alfred and Philomena walked in together.

Philomena stood by the edge of the table, looking at Cullen, and asked, "Should I bow to you?"

"I believe I told you before: how things were in the past is how they remain now. There is no need to make a conscious effort to change, whether regarding your grandmother's matters or my own."

"Very well, I understand."

Philomena sat down, and it was evident that she was repeatedly regulating her breathing and heart rate.

For someone accustomed to utilizing assassination as her method of combat, this should have been the simplest and easiest task—an instinct, even. Yet now, it proved somewhat difficult.

Ventura and Muri exchanged a glance, a slight smile appearing at the corners of their mouths. When the two of them had first emerged from the theater, they had been exactly the same. No, truth be told, the socially withdrawn girl from the Felsher family before them was far more composed than they had been back then.

Purr dashed inside, leapt onto the dining table, and commanded Ventura:

"Little Pebble, tie this for me."

"Right away."

Ventura stood up and helped Purr tie on her small dining bib.

"Where is Kevin?" Cullen asked.

Purr glanced at Philomena, who was sitting across from them, and said, "The stupid dog went up to the roof to chat with his goddess."

There was one more thing Purr did not mention: that stupid dog had likely been quite "hurt" by this autistic girl of the Felsher family.

The late-night supper began to be served. Once everything was set, the servants all withdrew, leaving the space to Cullen and the others.

Just as Cullen was about to raise his glass of ice water, the dining room door was gently nudged open, and Kevin came trotting inside, swaying as he walked.

Ventura lifted a steak from his own plate, poured a glass of water, and placed them before Kevin.

"Stupid dog, is your journey of melancholic remembrance over so soon?"

"Woof."

Kevin responded, and then fixated his gaze intently upon Philomena.

"What is this? Does it hold some special, allegorical meaning?" Muri drew an Ace of Spades from beneath his plate.

Beneath everyone else’s plates lay the exact same card, including beneath the vase at the center of the table.

"Ah, it has no special meaning, just a token to commemorate this gathering," Purr explained immediately. Evidently, she was the one who had arranged it.

"A memento?" Muri slipped the card into his pocket, and Ventura and Philomena followed suit.

Purr was highly satisfied with their performance; she had always been a feline who relished a sense of ritual.

Cullen raised his water glass and spoke, "It is my honor to have your companionship on the path toward the future and toward faith."

Everyone raised their glasses in succession, with Alfred responding first, "To follow you is our glory."

The others joined in turn, "It is our glory."

Purr also placed a meaty paw over her chest, "Glory, meow!"

"Alfred?"

Hearing his master call his name, Alfred stood up and said:

"Everyone;

We should not look only at how small our circle currently is; what we ought to see is the absolute purity of our group.

We should not merely feel that our voice is not yet loud enough; in truth, it is precisely at a time like this that we can hear the inner voices of one another most clearly.

We already possess the present, and we shall likewise master the future.

Order,

A new Order,

Shall be born from our hands!

Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

With the ceremonial transition concluded, everyone began their meal.

As the supper drew to a close, Alfred wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, "Please remain behind after we finish eating. I shall organize a small study session on the Master's notes."

The group nodded one after another.

Alfred felt immensely gratified by everyone’s cooperation. Yet, when the servants cleared away the plates and set up a small blackboard in preparation for the study session, he discovered that his own master had actually remained in his seat, producing a notebook and a fountain pen.

"Master, you may go and rest first. I shall summarize and report the progress of the study session to you later."

Cullen shook his head and said, "We learn together."

"Yes, Young Master."

Alfred stood up, walking toward the small blackboard while speaking, "Philomena, I will provide you with individual tutoring for the material you missed previously. Our study topic for tonight is:

The Principle of the Repetitive and Infinite Nature of the Cognitive Process: Cognition possesses reflectivity, and due to the limitations of objective and subjective conditions, mankind's pursuit of truth is not smooth sailing..."

...

When the study session concluded, Alfred personally pushed Cullen's wheelchair back to the bedroom. Upon entering the room, Alfred could contain himself no longer, bending down to whisper:

"Young Master, do you feel there is anywhere my study session tonight requires improvement?"

"You spoke very well, exceptionally well."

"Thank you, Young Master." A content smile blossomed on Alfred's face.

"Rest early."

"Young Master, please rest early as well."

Alfred backed out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Cullen remained seated in his wheelchair, his mind retracing the contents of Alfred's lecture. He would write things down in his own notebook, but rarely did he conduct systematic exposition and organization. In this regard, Alfred had helped compensate for his lack, and furthermore, much of his original content remained well within the established framework.

"No wonder many great works were compiled and completed by students and later generations. It is entirely possible that those ancient sages themselves did not think so deeply at the time."

...

The following morning, the weather was clear and bright.

If the wheelchair beneath him were replaced by a fine steed, Cullen would have felt much more comfortable.

Today was the first time he intended to loosen up his body since he began his recuperation.

"Someone come forward, serve as a target," Cullen said.

Muri looked at Ventura and said, "You go."

"Alright."

Ventura walked to the opposite side of Cullen, then measured the distance with his hands, asking:

"Captain, do I need to step back a bit more?"

"No need, that is sufficient." Cullen beckoned to Ventura, "You may come over."

Not understanding the true intent, Ventura thought Cullen was genuinely calling him over, so he rushed forward.

Cullen's left hand reached downward and then gripped upward, saying in a deep voice:

"Order—

Judiah closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again: "Suddenly, I feel that guarding the tombs peacefully is a rather grand thing."

Over here, the duel between Karen and Muri was drawing to a close, Muri having successfully reached Karen's front, marking his victory in this martial exchange.

Yet, Muri felt no joy in it, for he was panting heavily, whereas Karen remained perfectly composed, the preceding cascade of spellcasting clearly having exacted no great toll upon the captain himself.

Most crucial of all, the captain's injuries were not yet healed, and from beginning to end, he had never once risen from his wheelchair.

"After ascending to the rank of Adjudicator, one's mastery over power elevates to an entirely new echelon; the efficiency of spell execution becomes higher, and far more effortless. I feel I can now begin learning some higher-tier arts, though I still need to resolve the matter of matching and fusing the two aspects once my body is fully restored."

Muri offered a bitter smile: "When facing you just now, I felt as though I were facing an Expositor; the sheer efficiency and tier of your spellcasting are truly not inferior to one."

"Haha, your flaw is somewhat similar to mine, Muri."

"Please, enlighten me."

"It is that you rely too heavily on safe, stable defense. I favor that as well, but the purpose of defense should be to forge a superior opening for a counterattack, to cultivate one's own path to victory. Perhaps it is also because you were sparring with me that your counter-offensive did not manifest with much sharpness."

"Captain, it was because under the crushing weight of your spells, I found it exceedingly difficult to locate an opening grand enough for a counterattack."

"Once we return, you should seek out the Director for guidance; he integrates those two elements beautifully."

"Yes, I understand."

"Very well, that will be all for today. I shall not come down for dinner; I promised the hound at home long ago that I would undo a layer of its seal, and it is time to fulfill that. If I delay any further, I fear the hair atop its head will begin to sprout anew."

...

"Mr. Alfred, are we to have a supplementary lesson now?"

Philomena asked, seated upon the sofa.

Alfred shook his head, replying: "It was not I who summoned you, but rather..."

"Woof!"

Philomena beheld the great golden retriever as it trod out from behind Alfred’s sofa.

Kevin walked over to stand before Philomena and sat down, his canine eyes beginning once more to map out a pie chart of expressions, wherein arrogance and aloofness were distributed in precise proportions.

Seeing this, Philomena began to lock eyes with the hound, continuing just as they had the previous night.

"Ahem..." Alfred coughed softly, reaching out to gently pat Kevin on the back, reminding him, "You have forgotten the business at hand."

"Woof!"

Kevin barked with immense "majesty," still refusing to relinquish the pie chart within his gaze.

"Alas." Alfred sighed, turning to Philomena. "You should be a bit more mature as well, do not bicker with a dog."

Kevin: "???"

Hearing this, Philomena withdrew her gaze, stood up, and spoke to Kevin: "I apologize to you for my conduct last night."

With those words, she stepped forward and reached out to pat Kevin upon his head.

Kevin’s eyes instantly froze; in this household, only Karen and Pu'er were permitted to pat his head. Anyone else, even Alfred, could only pat his back!

Philomena continued: "Mainly, after learning of your true identity, seeing you now gives me a sensation akin to looking at my father."

Upon hearing these words, Kevin’s gaze softened at once.

Alfred chimed in: "She has gone so far as to describe you as a father; shouldn't you show some form of acknowledgement?"

Kevin nodded, then raised a canine paw toward Philomena, signaling that he was prepared to receive her respectful obeisance.

Philomena, however, raised her hand and gave Kevin a high-five.

Kevin: "..."

"Is it incorrect?" Philomena inquired. "My father often engaged in such interactions with me."

Suppressing a smile, Alfred explained: "What Kevin means is, he can become your teacher."

"Teacher?"

"Woof, woof, woof!"

"In history, the reason the Sea God Cult fractured was because he successfully assassinated one-third of their highest leadership."

Philomena stood straight and bowed deeply to Kevin:

"Teacher."

Kevin knitted his brow: "Woof."

Alfred looked at Kevin: "Are you serious?"

"Woof."

Alfred bent down, leaning close to Kevin's ear to whisper a warning:

"Let me tell you, you know this young lady's temperament. If you demand she address you by that title, she will undoubtedly call you that right to the Master's face. Just think of the consequences if the Master hears it."

A shock rippled across the dog's face, its jaws parting slightly.

It could already envision the transformation in Karen's gaze should such a scene transpire.

Promptly, it shook its furry head, flinging away its malicious amusement, and raised its paw once more.

Alfred looked toward Philomena: "Call him that once more."

"Greetings, Teacher."

"Woof!"

"Very well, Philomena. You may go to the Master now to report this matter; it still requires the Master's approval."

"Understood." Philomena walked out of the room.

Alfred poured himself a cup of coffee, asking with a smile:

"I am quite curious, why did you suddenly wish to take her as your student? I mean, is it merely because you have taken a fancy to her character and talent?"

Alfred took a sip of his coffee, then continued:

"Or is it because you feel she harbors a vendetta against the Inmemores?"