Chapter 656: I Know Them

Chapter 656: I Know Him

The carriage rolled to a halt before the side gate of the Wien Royal Palace. Kallen stepped down, clad not in his divine robes but in a gray trench coat he had hastily changed into at the hotel, topped with a black cashmere rolled-edge beanie.

This was the exact palette that, in most literary works, York City was "supposed to have."

Two rows of guards stood before the side gate, their scarlet dress uniforms paired with towering bearskin hats, chests puffed out so deliberately they seemed eager to burst the buttons right off their tunics.

A man in a leather jacket emerged from within, approaching Kallen with a formal salute: "Minister, please follow me."

Led by the man, Kallen entered the palace, meeting no resistance along the way as he was conducted straight to the back garden.

The garden was not particularly grand, its four borders visible at a single glance; many novels used the Wien Royal Palace as a backdrop to weave countless tales, but once one actually stood here in person, it became clear that such a small patch of earth could never bear the weight of so much love, hatred, and intrigue.

The classic trope of a queen trysting with some count in the garden was an absolute impossibility, for the king needed only to push open his bedroom window and, without yelling too loudly, call his queen home for supper.

Still, the palace's modesty was relative; many nearby estates were actually held in the royal family's name, maintaining a false air of understated humility merely for the public eye.

Furthermore, the watchful gaze of the Church forced them to remain cautious and well-behaved.

Inside a pavilion within the garden, Kissen sat enjoying his dinner, a modest spread consisting of steak, red wine, and a vegetable salad.

Beside Kissen, an elderly man held a violin to his shoulder, playing with absolute concentration as a melodious tune poured forth.

Yet, from the twitching of the old man's calves and the paleness around his lips, it was evident he was freezing; winter had already arrived, and the old man's luxurious garments, though splendid to look at, offered little warmth.

The old man was the former Prince of York, the current King of Wien.

He had spent nearly seventy years as the crown prince, and had the former Queen not "perished" at the Allen Estate, he might never have worn this crown in his lifetime.

So, closely considered, Kallen was practically his "benefactor."

Stepping beneath the pavilion, Kallen paused; around the structure, he sensed several other presences, presumably bodyguards tasked with Kissen's security.

Bern had mentioned that Kissen's status was exceptional, being a next-generation leader groomed intensively by a certain faction within the Church.

An old man looking like a butler stepped down: "Minister Kallen, greetings. I am Drew, valet to my master, Young Master Kissen. Please come up, my master has been expecting you for some time."

Kallen nodded, ascended the steps, and entered the pavilion.

Kissen held his knife and fork, methodically slicing his beef and eating with intense focus; even though Kallen now stood before him, he continued to chew his food with deliberate care.

Kallen knew that after thoroughly chewing and swallowing, the man would rise and greet him with great warmth, blaming his slight delay on the fine cuisine while omitting any official titles—thereby establishing the status gap between them and an air of top-down familiarity.

Sure enough, the moment Kissen swallowed his food, he immediately stood up, smiling warmly at Kallen: "My apologies, exquisite food always makes me lose track of time."

Kallen replied, "That is a form of happiness."

"Indeed, you are quite right. Might I invite you to share in this happiness, Mr. Kallen?"

"It is my honor, Mr. Kissen."

Drew set out a new plate and utensils, and shortly after, a steak was served.

"Come, have a taste." Kissen watched Kallen, glass in hand.

Kallen cut a piece and placed it in his mouth; it was an aged steak, perfectly grilled, tender and juicy.

"How is the taste?"

"Delicious."

"I am glad you like it, haha. I once accompanied my father to York City in my youth and dined right here, so I have always missed the steaks of this palace. Though, back then, it was the former Queen who stood beside us.

A pity the Queen has passed."

Kissen glanced at the King playing the violin nearby, and the King offered a compliant, ingratiating smile.

Kallen felt it a true shame that this scene had not been captured in a painting; future generations would surely have studied it repeatedly—the secular royal power bowing and scraping before the divine.

"Mr. Kallen is a native of Wien, have you been to the palace before?" Kissen asked.

"According to the 'Regulations of Order,' it is inappropriate for us to frequent such places."

On the surface it was forbidden, and in private there were numerous taboos; Kissen summoning the King to play the violin for amusement had, in truth, already crossed the line.

"Mr. Kallen is strict indeed. In truth, had it not been to specifically entertain you, I would not have gone to such lengths. It was my oversight, my mistake. You may step down, Your Majesty."

"Yes, milords."

The King walked away with trembling steps, and Drew, Kissen’s valet, made no move to assist him.

One wondered if the old King, after such an ordeal, would catch a fever and take to his bed, never to rise again; at that age, an old man could easily vanish overnight.

Though, ever since this King ascended the throne, the populace had been calculating exactly how long his reign would last.

When the Queen died, many merchants had stocked up on funeral supplies at one-and-a-half times the usual volume, and even ordinary families kept their provisions from the last funeral stored away, believing they would soon be needed again.

Kallen raised his glass, took a sip of wine, then set down his knife and fork.

"Are you finished eating?" Kissen asked. "I thought you would join the gathering, but you did not."

"My apologies, there were duties to hand over regarding my work."

"Oh, quite well. When I was your age, I had a temper too." Kissen tapped his own chest. "Especially when others attempted to meddle in affairs under my charge, resentment would rise from the depths of my heart, making me think: just who do you think you are?"

"You flatter me with such weight."

"It amounts to much the same thing. Therefore, I must ask for your understanding; this is the will of the higher-ups, and I am merely executing it. I hold you in high regard, Minister Kallen. Come."

Kissen raised his glass, and Kallen raised his own; the two clinked glasses and took a drink.

The last person who had told Kallen "I hold you in high regard"—or rather, that skeleton—had her avatar beaten into a paste by Kallen.

Kallen thoroughly disliked these "games"; he did not mind maintaining good terms with his superiors or those of higher rank, but he despised this sort of self-satisfied complacency that assumed personal charm alone could subjugate another.

People of their ilk always treated others like beasts grazing in the wild, thinking they could just call out a name and declare "I choose you," before tossing a binding scroll to tame them.

To put it bluntly, they were a bit detached from the grit of the real world.

Among those lying in the coffins at Kallen’s home, and the believers Alfred had converted, not a single one had been lured over by Kallen "playing the mystic"; all had been drawn to his side through "relationships" forged in the crucible of daily life.

Susu was such a "mercenary" person, yet even he understood the concept of give-and-take.

But this young master before him did not, because life through his eyes was entirely different from the life of an ordinary soul.

"Kallen, I wish to make a friend of you." Kissen said, picking up a napkin to wipe his mouth. "I know you currently face certain difficulties, but I believe there will be opportunities to resolve them in the future. Furthermore, crisis and opportunity often coexist."

"Thank you for your encouragement."

Kallen replied with utter flat neutrality; the man was already laying the groundwork, and it was obvious he too had recognized Kallen's value as a "stubborn fixture" in the York City Region.

Yet, unlike the Dark Moon Island sending him men or the Moon Goddess Church sending him vouchers, this man wanted a free ride.

Next, he would surely say he could offer his assistance.

"Mr. Kallen, perhaps I can lend you a hand."

Kallen replied, "I do not believe I am currently in a predicament. I feel that wherever I am, as long as I labor within the Church, that is my greatest happiness. The Great God of Order will see my piety."

Kissen’s expression darkened; he had not expected Kallen to refuse so cleanly.

The atmosphere at the table chilled instantly, and Kallen, disinclined to warm the room, began looking around, so detached that an onlooker might think he was merely admiring the scenery.

"Mr. Kallen is indeed a straightforward and candid man. I rarely encounter individuals like you."

"Then Mr. Kissen should truly spend more time among the grassroots; there are many down there who are just like me."

"Very well, I accept your advice."

Giesen waved his hand, and Drew, the manservant at his side, stepped forward to clear the plates and utensils as tea was brought out.

Although it was not the custom here to serve tea to signify the end of a guest's visit, the meal was over, and it was indeed time to disperse.

But Karen had no such inclination; he lifted his teacup, took a sip, and proactively reopened the conversation: "Director Giesen, you must know something about the Desert Cult, yes?"

"Oh, what about them?" Giesen asked.

"Not long ago, the residence of my region's Chief Bishop was attacked by assassins, and practically his entire family perished."

"I am aware. It was a tragic accident, and I feel deep sorrow and anger over it."

"There are rumors that the assassin was dispatched by the Desert Cult, with the purpose of forcing Order to intervene and help them break away from the wasteland."

"Oh, are there such rumors? How is it that I did not know?"

"There are."

"Then do you have any evidence, Minister Karen?"

"I am not the one responsible for investigating this matter, so I have no evidence."

"Without evidence, one should not speak carelessly. As the Minister of the Enforcement Department of the Whip of Order, you should understand this principle better than anyone."

How could there possibly be no evidence?

Karen believed that with the capabilities of the Order Cult, they would certainly have uncovered evidence, and the earlier hints had been distinct enough; without absolute certainty, it would be impossible to directly arrange for subordinates to prepare for murder and retaliation under the guise of a meeting.

"You should be well aware, Director, that this is the truth."

Giesen set down his teacup, enunciating each word: "I do not know."

Immediately following this, Giesen continued: "In my eyes, there are only the interests of the Cult. So long as doing so maximizes the Cult's interests, I will choose to do it without the slightest hesitation. Is that not correct?"

"What you say is correct, but the difference lies in the fact that our measurement and perception of 'interests' are not the same."

"Heh, it seems inviting you here tonight, Minister Karen, was a thoroughly correct decision on my part; otherwise, I would truly worry about what actions you might take."

"Me?"

"Of course. Of the actions you have taken before, which one was not exceedingly rebellious?"

"Rebellious? The things I did before were all in compliance with the 'Regulations of Order' and the principles of Order in my heart."

"I have no interest in debating these matters with you on such a beautiful night. If everyone held a copy of the 'Light of Order' or the 'Regulations of Order' in their hands, responsible only for reciting and discussing them each day, would the Order Cult truly become any better?"

"I believe that without theory leading the way and serving as a guide, practical development can easily veer off track."

"Very well, Minister Karen, you may leave. You have worked hard these past few days; you may go back and have a good rest."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you intend to return to the hotel?"

"I wish to sit a while longer."

"Then I shall sit a while longer as well."

"Heh..." Giesen laughed out of sheer exasperation. "What exactly do you mean by this, Minister Karen?"

"Nothing else. Your safety was supposed to be... well, it is currently the responsibility of my superior, but you left the hotel without authorization and refused the company of security personnel, so I believe you may face a potential threat to your personal safety."

"You need not worry about my safety. There are those who can protect me."

"I imagine those who wish to threaten your safety are likely aware of that as well."

"Does the honorable Minister Karen possess some form of intelligence?" Drew asked immediately.

Karen shook his head and replied, "No intelligence, merely a sixth sense."

"Then why did you not say so earlier?"

"I only just premonitioned it myself."

Drew immediately looked at Giesen, advising, "Young master, we should return to the hotel first."

Giesen frowned, clearly unwilling to depart just yet.

This could not help but arouse Karen's curiosity; what was his purpose in insisting on remaining here?

He had mentioned that he had been here in the past with his father, and when one recalled the decadent atmosphere within the Vien royal family, it was difficult not to let one's suspicions wander in that direction.

If that were truly the case, then the artist had indeed painted too early; what should have been depicted was that secular royal power, in the presence of divine authority, was practically nothing more than a chamber pot.

However, the development of events clearly did not intend to reserve time for Karen to become a "painter" or a "philosopher," because as Drew released a black crow, the bird, having just flown into midair, instantly lost all "vitality" and plummeted to the ground.

Drew shouted instantly, "There are assassins! Protect the young master!"

"Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!"

Three black figures materialized in the garden, their faces concealed behind black masks.

One of them pressed his hands downward, his entire form rushing swiftly toward the pavilion.

"Bang!"

Around the pavilion, eight guards appeared; two of them raised their blades to block, while another two launched attacks diagonally from behind the black-clad man, these guards clearly being well-trained.

But the black-clad man raised his hands, and his body instantly expanded, transforming into a giant nearly four meters tall; with a downward smash of his fist, the two guards blocking his path were sent flying directly, while the other two who attempted a sneak attack had their upper bodies instantly dissolved by the black flames he spewed with a turn and a roar.

This caused Karen, who had originally been sitting back intending to enjoy a good fight, to stand straight up; it was not that these guards were weak, but that the attacker was... too strong.

The remaining four guards dared not strike out, switching entirely to a defensive posture instead.

Yet at that exact moment, the second black-clad man dissolved his form into a shadow that seeped into the ground.

The shadow appeared beneath Karen's feet with incredible speed, then continued to move swiftly toward Giesen on the opposite side.

A black gemstone appeared in Drew's palm; he crushed the gem, grasping from within it a spear shimmering with a red hue, and thrust it directly down into the shadow on the ground.

"Bang!"

A violent surge of energy rippled outward, yet immediately contracted back, transforming instead into a red barrier that shielded Giesen inside.

The shadow's assault failed to succeed, and he may have even been injured under Drew's strike; his body quickly withdrew, retreating out of the pavilion and back to his original position.

On the other side, the first black-clad man, already giantized, was frantically hammering away at the defense formed by the four guards, and the guards were clearly failing to hold out.

Drew opened his hand again, another gemstone appearing in his palm, which he crushed just as before; the phantom of a purple longbow appeared in his hands as he drew the bow and notched an arrow, the arrow entirely condensed from his own spiritual power.

The moment the arrow formed, Karen clearly perceived the other party directing his killing intent onto him first, evidently suspecting that he was the organizer of this assassination.

But Drew's mind had clearly not gone entirely addled; he quickly shifted his killing intent away and loosed the arrow toward the giantized behemoth.

The arrow pierced through the giant's defense, boring through his body; the giant coughed up blood, but this blood was like molten magma, likewise piercing through the defense of those four guards and invading their bodies, whereupon a succession of miserable shrieks rang out as the guards lay on the ground screaming in agony.

Meanwhile, the giant retreated swiftly, returning to his starting position.

Under a single round of sudden assault, the eight guards who had originally been hidden in the shadows were entirely stripped of their combat capability; had Drew not forced his hand, the assassins might have completed their mission with this wave alone.

Karen found himself quite interested in Drew's method of combat; he was highly curious as to just how many gemstones this old manservant carried on his person.

However, Karen was even more curious about that third black-clad man who had been standing there the entire time; he had not moved his position, yet the array that had silently enveloped the surroundings was under his control, and now, from beneath his feet, two black lines extended outward, connecting to the two black-clad men in front.

He was healing them, and the breathing of the two men immediately smoothed out from its prior fluctuation;

No,

It was not merely the mending of flesh,

For as a singular radiance enveloped the giant warrior and the assassin before them, their presence swelled with a power far exceeding what it had been, and Karen perceived with absolute clarity that he was bestowing blessings upon his two companions.

This was a priest of exceptional capability.

Most critical of all, despite the figure being completely cloaked and concealed, Karen still detected a hauntingly familiar aura emanating from him.

Thanks to the sharp discernment forged during the skeletal incident, Karen could be entirely certain:

He,

Knew this person!