Chapter 658: Our Power!

Chapter 658 Our Strength!

Karen's sequence of movements was perfectly fluid, without a shred of hesitation.

After all, the defensive array he had painstakingly laid down was meant to protect Gisen; as a formation master, when a problem arose with his own creation, it naturally had to be resolved, excising whatever was jammed, whether it be a low-level spell or a secondary forbidden curse.

In his formation notes, Mr. Hoffen had explicitly written: A superb formation master must possess their own distinct confidence.

While Karen could not yet attain the realm of "a divine servant sealing an evil god," he could at least attempt to treat a secondary forbidden curse like a dog made of straw.

Gisen turned his head to look at Karen standing behind him, his features twisting grotesquely.

It was not that he had never suspected Karen of being tied to this assassination, but he had been deliberately trying to maintain the final veneer of civility without tearing it apart; he truly had not expected Karen to be the one to viciously rip that mask away first.

He did not reflect on whether his last provocative words had successfully goaded Karen; there was no need for reflection, because Karen had been standing behind him from the very beginning, meaning this young director had already made up his mind the moment he arrived.

"Karen, anything... anything can be negotiated."

Stripped of pride and drained of reserve, his trump card shattered before it could even take effect, Gisen voluntarily softened his stance.

Karen had seen too many identical transformations; once the halo of status was stripped away, the vast majority of people were actually cast from the same mold, much like how in a public bathhouse, before clothes were shed, some so-called "differences" could still be discerned, but once everyone entered the pool stark naked, they were fundamentally indistinguishable.

"Heh."

Karen merely offered a faint smile.

"Name whatever conditions you have, just say the word, so long as you can guarantee my safety!"

Karen remained silent; he did have conditions, but there was no need to voice them himself, much less did he require any promises from the middle-aged scion before him.

This attitude of Karen’s caused Gisen's heart to plummet to rock bottom, and like a drowning man, he cried out in a frantic panic:

"You can name any condition, really, anything at all. I’ll pull strings for you, get you promoted out of the York City Region, pour my family's resources into you! You're still young, you have a better path ahead of you, truly, Karen..."

Immediately after, as if struck by a sudden realization, Gisen shouted:

"I will overturn the results of this conference! I will have the people from the Desert Pantheon arrested, I will hold them accountable for Wofflen's matter, I will ensure they suffer a wretched death!"

Karen still did not respond, a restraint he owed to the fierce scolding Lord Texisen had given him before passing away; those old men associated with his grandfather’s generation were truly intriguing, for even their rebukes toward the younger generation carried a trace of "indulgence."

The old lord had told him to abide by the Regulations of Order, which, from another perspective, meant that with the Regulations of Order in hand, he held the ultimate truth, and on that basis, he could completely disregard everything else.

How was this a restriction... it was simply another form of indulgence.

Just then, the attackers launched their assault.

It was the same pattern as before: the giant warrior led the charge, the assassin drifted along the periphery, while that old acquaintance remained standing in place.

They were likely a hastily assembled team; to put it kindly, they fought with great caution, but to put it bluntly, they were downright cowardly.

Had it not been for Karen’s earlier assist in breaching Gisen's protective spell, their assassination attempt tonight would have already been deemed a failure.

At that moment, Karen finally offered a reply to Gisen: "Rest assured, I will protect you well."

With that, Karen's feet left the ground as he drifted back three meters, standing further behind to provide better protection.

The giant rushed into the pavilion, and Drew, lying on the pavilion steps, opened his mouth like a dying horse in its final throes, but his injuries were far too severe; because the enemy had that "old acquaintance" present, even though Drew had exerted a monumental effort, its effects were ultimately "erased."

Drew wished to use the last vestiges of his strength to help his young master fend off the peril; though he should have been utterly feeble, his chest suddenly collapsed inward entirely, as if his thorax had been cleanly corroded away.

This meant that within Drew's body, a gemstone had always been kept.

The gemstone's effect manifested as a ring of amber halo rippled outward with Drew at its center, forming a quagmire-like vortex; when the giant stepped into it, his feet ground to a halt.

Gisen instantly manifested an advanced spell, and from beneath the vortex, a colossally thick black tree violently erupted, completely shredding his valet Drew's body the moment it surged forth;

the tips of the tree's branches pierced into the giant's flesh one after another, eliciting a howl of agony from the colossus.

To successfully unleash an advanced spell in such a short window meant Gisen possessed no small measure of strength; he did have talent, which was likely why his family's ancestor had chosen him.

Having scored a hit, Gisen continued to drive his magic, forcing more tree branches to pierce the giant's body, intending to seize the opportunity to deal a heavier blow.

Standing behind him, Karen spotted the flaw at a glance—this director truly did not know how to fight.

Half the purpose of the giant's earlier wails was to lure him into overextending his spell, when in reality, it was to create a better opening for his assassin companion.

That assassin still seemed to be drifting in the distance, but that was merely an illusionary shift; by now, he had already closed the distance.

He really is quite similar to my own uncle.

The assassin materialized at Gisen's side, his right hand lightly brushing toward Gisen's face, four long needles clamped between his five fingers; if that touch connected, Gisen's head would instantly explode.

Gisen had not expected the assassin to arrive so abruptly; he had believed himself to be keeping a close eye on the assassin's movements, never realizing he had still fallen for the trap.

Yet his next reaction was swift; a barrier materialized before him instantly, its colors layering in gradients to protect the targeted area.

Abandoning the assault on the face, the assassin whipped his arm downward; everything unfolded in the blink of an eye.

The naturally holistic defensive barrier now had a weak point due to its shifted focus, and the assassin's four long needles pierced straight through that fragile defense, sinking into Gisen's body.

Gisen was sent flying by a tremendous force, and the assassin elegantly clenched his hand into a fist, his mouth beneath the black mask presumably mouthing the word "Pop."

But the anticipated explosion of the long needles never came, because Karen caught Gisen, the Fire of Order swiftly forming a membrane that enveloped Gisen and severed the link between the assassin and the needles.

His task complete, Karen released his grip, letting Gisen collapse to the ground; though the long needles in his chest had not detonated, the placement of each puncture was highly problematic, causing Gisen's body to twitch involuntarily as bloody froth spilled continuously from his mouth.

Alas, a quite powerful... weakling.

The valet Drew's realm and strength were actually lower than Gisen's, yet the valet had held out for so long, whereas Gisen was flattened in a single exchange.

Karen held the Sword of Diamans across his chest, his gaze locked onto the assassin.

The moment his long needles failed to detonate, the assassin had already attempted a second-wave assault thrice, but the instant his intent surfaced—before his body could even follow through—he perceived Karen's aura locking onto him in advance.

Thus, though neither side had yet traded blows, a confrontation of consciousness and experience had long since commenced.

"Roar!"

The giant broke free from the constraints of the spell, but this time he did not retreat, for that "old acquaintance" had appeared behind him, casting a healing spell directly onto his body.

The old acquaintance spoke: "Step aside. You won't be held accountable for his death."

Karen shook his head and said, "If he dies, my superior will be held accountable."

Hearing this, the old acquaintance seemed to freeze; even behind the mask, his expression was surely stiff with disbelief.

Karen glanced back once more at Gisen, who lay twitching behind him, and cast a healing spell:

"Deep Sleep!"

It was an anesthetic-like spell; upon settling over Gisen, though his body continued to twitch, he slipped into a deep coma, entirely insensate.

Promptly, Karen refocused on the three attackers ahead, plunging the Sword of Diamans into the ground and resting both hands upon the hilt, adopting a posture that said he was right here and they were welcome to try him.

The old acquaintance said, "Then we will kill you... along with him."

Karen smiled and replied, "Agreed."

......

"My dear, is there any need for such haste?"

Old Delon had returned home from work tonight and pushed open the door, expecting to be greeted by a nourishing soup his wife had meticulously prepared, only to find his wife hoisting him up with a single hand.

The last time he had been carried through the air like this by his wife was a very, very long time ago, back before they had even established their relationship; his relentless pursuit had annoyed her, so she had hoisted him up in this exact manner and dumped him in an area teeming with powerful demonic beasts.

Yet a few hours later, his wife had retraced her steps, letting out a long sigh of relief upon seeing he hadn't been devoured as a midnight snack by the beasts, before hoisting him right back.

Distraught on the way there, but purely blissful on the way back.

Old Master Delon truly never anticipated that, at his advanced age, he would suddenly have to relive a touch of his youth.

One could only say that his wife's physical constitution was truly magnificent; those born of warriors, even when advanced in years, were still not something an array master could dare compare themselves to.

Ahead lay the Wien Royal Palace, and upon a certain rooftop, Madam Tangli dropped Delon down, commanding:

"Do you see the array over there?"

Delon shook his head and replied, "No."

"No array?"

"Sections have been laid out, but it lacks a core sacred artifact for communication; anything that does not possess 'complete vitality' cannot be considered a true array."

"Are you giving me a popular science lecture?"

"No..."

"Find a way to break it open."

"It hasn't even been activated yet..."

"Can you not make arrangements in advance, so that once it activates, you can break it open faster?"

"It is possible, I suppose, but doing so will be very draining on my energy. My dear, I must at least know what this is for, mustn't I?"

"I told you to do it, so do it. This is what you ought to do, Delon."

Hearing his wife call him directly by his name, Delon's neck instantly shrank back;

Though he did not know why his wife's temper was so fierce, he still immediately materialized a massive Rubik's cube to begin his deductions; this was the proper realization a whetstone ground into a preferred shape by a blade ought to possess.

And beside Old Master Delon, Madam Tangli silently produced a kitchen knife and began to hone it against the rooftop railing.

Her Nightmare Blade had already been given to Philomena, and having been a housewife for decades, she naturally had no interest in forging some second blade; thus, when it was time to move, she naturally carried out whatever was convenient at home.

A kitchen knife would do; at her realm, she could truly follow her whims regarding the choice of a weapon.

Although the old master felt his wife's temper was very fierce right now, in truth, Madam Tangli was currently very happy in her heart.

Because her grandson had, for the first time, sought her help, making a phone call where his very first words were:

"Grandmother, I beg you to help me with a favor."

When she heard those words, Madam Tangli's entire heart almost melted; as an elderly person, the situation one least wished to encounter was actually finding oneself useless.

This had nothing to do with whether one's children were filial, but was rather a sense of blurring and absence regarding one's self-worth.

What was more, this grandson of hers was simply too outstanding, so outstanding that many times she wished to help, yet could find no place where she could do so.

Clearly, as your maternal grandmother, I am a fine hand at fighting, yet the only thing I can do for you is buy you clothes for the changing seasons;

Sometimes I want to cook something delicious for you... yet I know your culinary skills are even better than mine.

Other grandmothers cooking delicious food for their grandsons is called an expression of maternal love, but on my end, it is called exposing my own clumsiness!

Tell me, is that infuriating or not!

In short, opportunities were rare.

And the reason Madam Tangli had displayed such great anger at her husband's prior inquiry was also because what she ought to do was precisely what her husband ought to do as well.

A grandson did not belong to her alone; for the child of your own daughter, for your own grandson, why are you talking so much nonsense!

It had to be said that the old master's attainments in arrays were truly high; very quickly, he deduced the operational mode of the sacred artifact enveloping the palace, and additionally calculated its twelve variations.

Next, there only remained the drawing of the corresponding array scrolls.

Like a locksmith picking a lock, once the internal structure of the lock cylinder was understood, the rest was merely a simple process.

Madam Tangli flicked the kitchen knife with her fingertip, finding herself well satisfied with its sharpness.

Beside her, Delon asked as he drew the array scroll, "Is it for Karen?"

"Yes," Madam Tangli murmured in response.

"Oh."

Old Master Delon merely gave that response and asked no more; though he did not know Karen was his own biological grandson, the relationship between Karen and the Guman family had long since become close to the point where no reasons were needed when help was required.

The scroll completed its drawing, and Delon used his fingernail to slice open his palm, letting fresh blood soak into it; doing this was to ensure the quality of this scroll and reduce the risk of a defective product.

"Phew..."

The old master sat down hard on the ground; the grand Bishop of the York City Archdiocese of the Order of Sacred Church, dragged out in the dead of night to be used as an apprentice—aside from his wife, there was probably no second person in this world who could order him about like this.

He looked at his wife and asked, "Do you intend to strike tonight as well?"

Madam Tangli nodded, "I want to, it just depends on whether Karen gives me the chance."

Immediately after, Madam Tangli looked toward her husband, "In a moment, you will be responsible for breaking open the array; as for the rest, do not concern yourself with it."

"Must I also cover my own eyes?"

"You may."

"What is there that cannot be seen?"

"Everyone has their own secrets, do I not?"

Delon hesitated for a moment, then replied:

"Very well, I shall be obedient."

Madam Tangli smiled.

The old master was instantly dazed by the sight.

...

"I wish to know the mission plan, Mr. Alfred."

Before the hotel's floor-to-ceiling window, Vic walked to Alfred's side and voiced his inquiry.

This hotel was separated from the palace by only two streets; whenever the royal family held major ceremonies, this hotel would be packed to capacity, though on ordinary days, its business would not be very good.

At this moment in this guest room, there were only Alfred and Vic; inside the two adjacent guest rooms were the remnants of Light organized in small groups, led respectively by Vernon and Helen.

Alfred replied as he gazed at the moon in the sky, "Things have changed, which forces our plan to change as well."

"The change... is it good or bad?"

"It cannot be spoken of as good or bad, it has merely become complicated."

"What can I do?"

"This time, you are the key."

"Does that refer to my identity as the student of the former Grand Priest?"

"Yes, exactly; it is worth far more than you imagine."

"I understand."

"Ah." Alfred let out a sigh, "Do you still remember last time? When the Young Master faced the sudden trouble from Bernie, we could only choose to use the most extreme method to launch a counterattack, which was almost turning over the table."

"Then this time..."

"It is different now; one cannot turn over the table every time, otherwise there will always be a time when one slips up; moreover, thinking of turning over the table the moment a mishap is encountered only shows that we have never truly matured and grown up."

The new operation was planned in a rush, and because the counterparty is also a faction within our Holy Church, we couldn't mobilize the district's forces for fear of alerting them beforehand; we can only rely on our own loyal lineage.

But when we pool our hidden trump cards and connections together, picking through them, we find they are actually quite sufficient. Truthfully, the Young Master deeply dislikes this manner of internal factional strife, yet many times he is simply forced to do so."

"I know, the Director wants to avenge Wolfrun."

"The assassin actually made it to our home; the Young Master is avenging himself."

"I... I did not think of that layer."

"It is normal that you didn't, for the Young Master is far more authentic than you imagine. Ideals, style of conduct, factions, and power—all of these are actually shaped and implemented during the course of action itself.

Vick, this time is a test for you."

"A test for me?"

"Yes, if you pass the test, I will bestow upon you a reward, a reward beyond your expectations."

"Like the one Philomena Ventura and Muri received?"

"Yes, believe me, if you make the right choice, your teacher will feel greatly comforted when he returns in the future.

In the past, you couldn't find pride in being your teacher's student, but in the future, your teacher will take pride in having you as his student."

"I will seize this opportunity, Mr. Alfred."

"Mm." Alfred took out his notebook, turned to a blank page, and began sketching the background with his fountain pen. "Do you know what I am drawing?"

"My apologies, I cannot make it out just yet."

"You will understand in the future, and you will even be grateful to me."

...

In the communications room of the Ankara Hotel, Sousse dismissed everyone and sat there entirely alone.

Before him was an active communication array, with a memory crystal prepared beside it; usually, this was only used to record full-screen footage during extremely important remote conferences.

Sousse's gaze was grim, his small body curled on the sofa as he bit his nails from time to time.

He was very nervous,

He was very terrified,

But he was also very excited.

...

Behind a desk in the corner of the Chief Executive's office in the York City District Ecclesiastical Building, Bourne sat holding a cup of tea, sipping it mouthful by mouthful; before him, the communication array was already active, and the memory crystal was properly deployed.

But on the sofa opposite him sat an old man, wearing a somewhat faded divine robe—it was none other than Da Vince.

Da Vince spoke up: "I originally thought you would be delighted to see that new District Chief pack his bags and go. That way, the Whip of Order would take a hit, and the District Management Office under your command would have a chance to reclaim the power surrendered recently due to the rise of the Whip of Order."

"You underestimate me, Da Vince. I am not like you people; struggle is meant to secure a better framework to get things done, not for the sake of struggling itself."

"Are you criticizing me?"

"Not exactly," a smile surfaced on Bourne's face, "it depends on the person."

"I am quite surprised that you appreciate him so much."

"He is my colleague, Da Vince—my colleague. Before Wolfrun passed away, I was already prepared to take charge of this district together with him."

"Fine, so I am not surprised that you could discern our plan. I am only surprised that you actually told him. Are you so certain he has the capability to handle this matter properly?

I can tell he is fiercely stubborn; when it comes to that pack from the Desert Cult, he is dead set on slaughtering them."

"Should he not be?" Bourne countered. "What are you people doing?"

"We?"

"Yes, you people should be the ones dead set on slaughtering that pack from the Desert Cult. So I am truly curious: between you and Karen, who exactly is the true zealot?"

"He is doing it for vengeance."

"No, he is acting in accordance with the *Regulations of Order*."

"Heh, hypocrisy."

"I will not arrest you, Da Vince, and not because I fear the chain reaction that might follow. I admit your faction has value in its existence. But tonight, before the results of this matter come to light, you can only keep me company and drink tea here."

"So, you have finally noticed the fact that I have been sitting here for so long and you haven't even brewed a cup of tea for me!"

...

"Meow-la-la, meow-la-la, meow-la-la-lu!"

Purr sat atop little Conna's head as little Conna dashed forward, dragging a wooden cart behind her.

Seated upon the cart were Aisley, a dog, and a skeleton draped in a lady's human skin.

A tiny stature, a massive cart, yet this small body erupted with immense strength, pulling the cart at a blistering speed!

If anyone else dared ride on the little bone dragon's head, the little bone dragon would fight them to the death;

Yet Purr could command the little bone dragon to pull a cart—this was perhaps Purr's true "talent."

At this moment, Purr looked back at Aisley and inquired once more: "Her Highness Aisley, the greatest summoner of this era, are you certain our sneaking out won't be discovered?"

"It won't. That tunnel is the path I used to sneak out in the past. Aside from Sindy, no one else in the research institute knows about it, and Sindy won't snitch."

"If it dares to snitch, I'll pluck all its fur out when we get back, meow!"

"Woof, woof!"

Purr shouted to Conna beneath her:

"Faster, little Conna, our little Karen needs us, meow-meow-meow!"

"Meow!"

...

"Snap!"

Beneath a streetlight, a man lit a cigarette, took a drag, slowly exhaled, then tossed the butt to the ground, grinding it beneath the sole of his boot.

Neo rubbed his face, adjusted his angle, and then with a tearing sound, "peeled" his face right off, revealing a crimson visage beneath.

"How could a game this fun go on without me."

Neo gently rolled his neck:

"Vacation is over. Back to work!"