Chapter 705: Appearance!

Chapter 705: Entrance!

"Screech..."

With a sudden brake, the car ground to a halt.

Richard opened the car door and stepped out, only to find another vehicle parked ahead, its license plate familiar, though the interior was empty.

Glancing toward the adjacent flowerbed, he immediately spotted his young uncle-in-law sitting there at that very moment, smoking a cigarette.

Inquisitor Dark... no, he was Arbitrator Dark now.

In the Abyss Angel incident, thanks to his connection with Karen, Inquisitor Dark had earned an immense amount of solid merit without having it diluted by others, jumping directly from the lowest rank of Inquisitor to Arbitrator.

As a son-in-law of the Guman family, though this position was still considered "marrying up," it was a vast improvement over before.

Yet, arriving before his in-laws' door this time, he had still chosen to sit in the flowerbed first to compose his state of mind, just as he always used to do.

People, at times, do not refuse to break so-called habits because they cannot, but because they are somewhat reluctant to let go of their past selves.

"Uncle?"

"Ah, Richard." Dark stood up, patting his backside. "Morning."

It was the small hours of the morning, so wishing him a good morning was not technically wrong, though it felt rather out of place.

"Uncle, do you have some business here?"

"Yes, I came to find your grandfather. I want to ask him to help arrange something for me."

"What could be so urgent that you had to come at this hour? By the way, is my grandfather home?"

"He’s back. I saw him in front of the Educational Administration Building. He’s at home now; his shift must have changed, and the meeting over there should be finished too. Are you off duty now as well?"

"No, I came back because I have business with Grandfather too."

"What business?"

"The matter of the volunteers. Karen is in charge of selecting the list, and he won't let me sign up unless my grandfather nods and gives permission."

"Uh..." Dark scratched his head.

"Uncle, are you coming inside with me?"

"No, no. On second thought, my business isn't all that important anyway. Never mind, I won't go in and disturb Father's rest. Go on back, I'm leaving."

"Uncle?"

"I'm really fine now, I'll head back first."

"Alright, Uncle."

Arbitrator Dark climbed back into his car, watching Richard walk into the house.

In truth, he had also come tonight to use the back door, hoping that through his father-in-law's influence, he could get himself onto that list.

He had not discussed this with his wife, Lucie; he had come purely on an impulse of the moment, and even sitting in the flowerbed for so long in the cold wind had failed to cool his fervor.

Having just achieved merit and earned a promotion, a person was prone to excitement, making their enthusiasm in all aspects somewhat stronger.

But hearing that Richard had actually come for the exact same thing, Dark knew his own chances were dead.

Richard was bound to be scolded and stopped by his grandparents. If Dark followed him inside to ask for the same thing, it would only make them think he was blindly jumping on a trend, or that he had instigated it;

as for helping him pull strings, that was out of the question now too.

So, it was better to go home, head back and get a good sleep. Who knew, maybe he would wake up to find he had been selected anyway?

...

Richard stepped through the entryway and happened to see his grandfather, Delon, sitting on the sofa in the living room, holding a bowl of nourishing soup brewed personally by his grandmother.

It was obvious that his grandfather looked extremely exhausted, but upon seeing his eldest grandson return, he still spoke up automatically:

"You're back."

"Yes, Grandfather, I'm back."

"Dear, your grandson is back. Scoop a bowl for him too; he must have had a hard day today as well."

"Yes, yes, everyone in your Guman family is a busybody. You lot are the most hardworking people in this world; the Church of Order simply couldn't function at all without your Guman family."

Madam Tangli grumbled as she brought out the soup, handing it to Richard.

"Hehe, thank you, Grandmother. I love Grandmother's soup the most. Once you taste Grandmother's cooking, you can never forget it, I’ve missed it so much."

"I learned this soup from Karen's maid. Today is my first time brewing it."

"Ah, I suppose I must have drunk it at Karen's house too."

"Old man, your grandson probably wants to beg a favor from you."

"Heh, I can hear that." Delon put down his soup bowl and raised his hand. "Speak, what favor do you want from Grandfather?"

"It's like this, Grandfather. You know about the selection of volunteers, right?"

"I know."

"What do you think of it, Grandfather?"

"As a believer of Order, one ought to face it calmly and accept it proactively."

"Yes, so I want to go as a volunteer."

Hearing these words, Delon's eyelid twitched.

Standing behind the sofa where Richard sat, Madam Tangli’s expression instantly turned cold.

Delon spoke up: "The list will be chosen and arranged by those above. I imagine there will be plenty of people signing up. If you want me to use my influence to get you on it, that would not only be against the rules, but also unfair to the other applicants."

The divine pollution incident was a taboo subject for the couple, Delon and Tangli.

If it were any other dangerous mission and their grandson went, they would not say anything. As a Priest of Order and a member of the Whip of Order, the nature of his work dictated that he would inevitably face danger often, but it absolutely did not include this matter.

Thus, Delon used an official platitude, intending to push away his grandson's request.

Hearing this, Richard grew anxious immediately and said, "But I'm already being treated unfairly! Karen is going to lead the team himself, and he even signed up the people around him, yet he excluded only me!"

"Karen has his own considerations. The reason he didn't sign you up is because..."

Delon suddenly choked on his words.

Madam Tangli’s eyes widened even further!

What? Karen was going to lead the team himself?

Misunderstanding the silence, Richard chimed in, "It's not because I'm weak! He said it was out of respect for the two of you that he didn't sign me up. He's playing favorites, he's violating regulations, he's trading personal favors, he's..."

"Thump!"

Before Richard could finish his sentence, he blacked out and slumped sideways onto the sofa.

Behind him, his kind grandmother slowly withdrew her hand.

That strike just now had landed squarely on the back of Richard's neck, knocking him unconscious with perfect precision.

Immediately after, Madam Tangli spoke to the unconscious Richard: "Little bug, if you dare stimulate him to wake up, I will dig you out of his body and stew you into soup to drink!"

Little Jerry did not dare to move, but it felt deeply wronged. Why was it that tonight it was either about to be stepped to death, or about to be stewed to death?

Yet it understood clearly that whether it was the previous Karen or the current grandmother, both were entities that neither it nor its host could afford to cross.

Delon let out a soft sigh and muttered, "Alas, I knew it."

Madame Tangli, however, spoke up. "He promised me he wouldn't go."

Delon closed his eyes.

Madame Tangli pressed on, "Call your grandson right now and tell him he is forbidden from going!"

Delon waved his hand dismissively and replied, "His rank is equal to mine, and we operate within entirely different systems. I have no authority to order him around. Besides, in matters like this, one can only hint; there is simply no way to state it plainly."

"You old codger, are you going to make this call or not?"

The whetstone rarely refused the blade's command, but now he shook his head. "Ah, I simply don't have the face to make that call."

"Fine. If you won't do it, I will. I want to ask him if he has forgotten exactly how his mother died!"

...

"Hello."

"Karen, it's me."

"Grandmother, is Richard asleep?"

"He is. Sleeping very soundly."

"That is good. He truly needs to rest properly."

"Karen, you must be exhausted too, aren't you?"

"I dozed off for a brief moment just now. I'm not sleepy anymore."

"This is your home telephone number."

"Yes, I am preparing to head over to the administrative building."

"If I step out of the house right now, I should still make it in time to bring you some breakfast."

"Grandmother, I am grown up now and can look after myself. I was actually just about to boil some noodles for myself."

"Have you forgotten what you promised me during the first half of the night?"

"I haven't forgotten."

"You said you wouldn't go. A man cannot go back on his word, especially when it is given to an elder of advanced years."

"Indeed, one cannot break a promise. When I became a servant of the gods and received my cleric's certificate in the administrative building, I swore an oath to Order. I cannot break my word. The God of Order, in his venerable age, is someone who absolutely must not be deceived."

"Don't you dare use that rhetoric with me, Karen. Have you forgotten how your mother died?"

"I have not."

"And yet you still dare to go!"

"I do dare."

On the other end of the receiver, Karen's voice sounded remarkably light.

"I am your grandmother, and I must answer for your safety. As your elder, there are times when I am forced to adopt rather drastic measures. You understand that, don't you?"

"Grandmother..."

"Speak, I am listening. You have always been the most silver-tongued, and I enjoy listening to you most of all. I should very much like to see just how you intend to persuade me."

"I have no intention of persuading you, Grandmother."

"It seems, then, that you have absolutely no intention of listening to your grandmother's words?"

Madame Tangli extended her palm, and the newly carved rolling pin in the kitchen flew across the space, settling firmly into her hand.

Sitting on the sofa, old Delon witnessed this scene, his eyelids twitching slightly.

"Grandmother, I will return alive."

"Nonsense! I have already lost your mother to the exact same sort of thing. Do you truly believe such words still hold any weight with me?"

"If Grandfather were here..."

"If your grandfather were here, he would undoubtedly be faster than I am. He would probably have materialized right behind you by now to knock you unconscious with a single slap. He wouldn't be like me, forced to race against your carriage the moment the receiver is put down!

I lost my daughter, and your grandfather witnessed their final, tragic state with his very own eyes. So, do you truly believe your grandfather would agree to let you—"

"He would, because he is Dis."

"You..."

"I, too, wish so deeply that I could be like my grandfather, carrying a light within me."

"Karen, you are already exceptional enough. In my eyes, you, my grandson, are not a single bit inferior to Dis in his youth. You simply need time..."

"Grandmother, my time is running short."

"What?"

"Grandmother, the time left for me, and the time left for Grandfather, is truly running short."

"You..."

"Please understand me, Grandmother."

Karen knew well that he could not convince his grandmother by using loyalty to Order. That particular approach worked on Delon, but it held little sway over his grandmother, as she was not a member of the holy church. Thus, he could only attempt to dissuade her through other, more circuitous means.

After all, if his grandmother truly decided to "go wild," it would be quite a headache to deal with.

"Karen, even if time is running short, that is no excuse for you to abandon yourself to despair. You may hang up the phone now; I am coming to find you this instant."

"Grandmother, I am not Richard."

"In my heart, you and Richard hold the exact same status."

Hearing this, Delon silently sniffled: Richard's grandmother, can you truly say those words without a pang of conscience?

Yet, looking over at the unconscious Richard, even Delon could not deny that ever since learning of Karen's true identity, his mind was occupied almost entirely by this grandson, Karen—even if Karen's surname was Immeris rather than Guman.

It was an unavoidable truth; Karen was simply far too exceptional. He was so brilliant that the matter of a surname became a triviality of the smallest order. Being his grandfather provided a profound sense of pride and connection.

"Grandmother, my meaning is that you likely possess no means to suddenly make me fall asleep the way you did with Richard."

"Do you even realize what you are saying?"

"I do."

If you come to drag me back, I will resist.

"Karen, you have truly made your grandmother angry."

"I am deeply sorry, Grandmother. I must carry the responsibility that belongs to me. Your grandson's wings have grown strong."

Madame Tangli's expression suddenly faltered slightly, the words leaving her caught somewhere between irritation and amusement.

"Click!"

Madame Tangli took the initiative to hang up the phone.

Delon inquired, "About that..."

"Did you not hear him? He said his wings have grown strong. I cannot lock him away, because it is impossible for me to ever break his wings."

Delon let out a heavy sigh and remarked, "That stubborn, wretched temper of his is truly mirror to my own."

"Ahem..."

Madame Tangli choked slightly on his words, turning to cast a sharp glare back at her husband.

This time, however, she refrained from uttering any cutting sarcasm, nor did she deliberately use Diss to wound his pride; after all, the old man had truly undergone a profound change of late.

"Since we are no longer going to stop him, then let us give him our blessings," Delon said, raising a hand to ruffle through his hair. "I have faith in Diss's upbringing, and I have even greater faith in my own grandson. My dear, if he manages to emerge from this alive, then through this crucible..."

"What then?"

"He will have shattered every subjective limitation that was ever placed upon him."

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"If Gaspoole receives her promotion as well, then the next regional director is highly likely to be him—a soldier of Order, fiercely loyal, possessed of true duty, and willing to sacrifice his everything for the cause...

There will be no remaining reason, no excuse left to obstruct his advancement. He will have thoroughly washed away every negative label previously attached to his name, earning the right to be absorbed by those great factions above as a prospect for future cultivation, perhaps even as... a standard-bearer.

For he has withstood the ultimate test of fire."

...

"Will your grandmother come charging over here?" Neo asked, his hands busy tossing the noodles.

"She will not," Karen replied.

"It is quite fascinating—I mean, the whole concept of having a family."

"I am certain Miss Elisa would not mind in the least if you chose to form a new household, driven by your loneliness and the desperate yearning to be fussed over."

"Slurp..."

Neo chewed the noodles in his mouth, his expression perfectly serene as he spoke: "If those words had come from anyone else's mouth, I would have sewn his lips shut."

"Did you dish up a portion for me?"

"I did not."

"How utterly selfish."

"Heh, our tastes differ."

Just then, the telephone rang once more, and Karen could only lift the receiver yet again.

"Hello, Karen."

"Grandfather."

"Let Richard go."

"What?"

"I said, take Richard along with you."

"Grandfather, is Grandmother beside you right now?"

"She is. She consented to it; indeed, she was the one who spoke up first, saying we must not show favoritism."

"Must not show favoritism?"

"Oh, Karen, between you and Richard, losing either one would be a harrowing agony too deep for us to endure."

"Which is precisely why I wanted Richard to..."

"Therefore, whether we lose one or lose both, the difference to us is naught."

At that moment, the receiver on the other end seemed to be taken away, and his grandmother's voice filtered through:

"The bond between the lines of Arte can echo one another amidst the divine pollution, for it is itself a blessing derived from the God of Eternity—or perhaps, a curse of the God of Eternity... and of course, it could well be deemed the Eternal Pollution."

...

Inside the auditorium of the academic affairs building, the conference layout was fully prepared, with a specific area dead center in the front rows left conspicuously vacant, while the remaining seats were entirely packed with people.

Upon the front stage sat the dignitaries responsible for handling the incident, including the Chief Bishop and the Regional Director, all arrayed in their proper seats.

Beyond them, over twenty communication arrays remained active on the tabletop, indicating that more than a score of higher-ranking Order officials were listening in on this assembly.

The most prominent were two communication arrays positioned in the absolute center; one of them manifested Joan Smith, an executive committee member of the Whip of Order, whose status ranked within the top ten of the entire Whip system—effectively the second-tier ruler, subordinate only to the Wielder of the Whip, Forden.

The array directly adjacent to his displayed the likeness of a woman, Inraman Dawn, a secretary from the Office of the High Priest. The current High Priest was a man of diligent governance, which meant the influence of the secretary's office had been greatly diminished during his tenure, yet her presence as an observer signified the High Priest's personal "attention" to the matter.

Furthermore, this gathering today was not intended to deliberate upon measures, for the concrete details and strategies had already been thoroughly debated the previous day; at present, it was best understood as a grand mobilization rally.

The central figures were the twenty-four chosen volunteers (including the four experts).

The Holy Church required them to sacrifice themselves, to complete the extraction of the sacred artifact, and to stifle the spreading source of pollution. Right now, what mattered most to them, and what could best bolster their spirits, was the acknowledgment of honor; as for their post-humous compensations, there was naturally no cause for concern.

The volunteers began to file into the hall, taking their places in the center of the foremost row.

Vic's appearance caused several of the dignitaries within the communication arrays to frown slightly.

Karen, however, was the very last to enter. He came to a halt directly before Malina and Queto, beside whom sat two experts from the Church of Principles, a man and a woman.

Queto looked at Karen with a touch of perplexity, while Malina muttered under her breath, "What are you doing?"

To an outsider, Karen appeared very much like a minister leading the volunteers inside to offer a final word of reassurance.

Hoses glanced toward Burn, who sat beside him, and inquired, "What is he doing?"

Chief Bishop Burn replied in a low murmur, "Putting on a show."

"Humph," Hoses snorted coldly. His impression of Karen was remarkably poor, for only yesterday, this young man had truly intended to strike him inside the office. "Young people do seem universally afflicted with such a vanity."

"Indeed. He went so far as to install quite a few of his own direct subordinates onto the volunteer roster this time. Look at those individuals—they are all the directors and secretaries from his own bureau."

"Heh," Hoses shook his head in disdain, entirely oblivious to the fact that he, too, had dispatched his own disciple.

Within Burn's palm lay the newly acquired roster. Indeed, up to this moment, his was the sole copy of the volunteer list in existence, and he beheld the name positioned at the very top: Karen Silva.

"Step aside," Karen commanded Queto and Malina.

At that prompt, Vic, Alfred, and the others all stood up, and seeing this, the remaining chosen volunteers followed suit, rising to their feet.

Karen intended to take the central seat, not out of a desire to flaunt himself, but because for this descent into the cavern, he had naturally designated himself as the "Captain." He would not permit the authority of command to be surrendered to another in a place of such peril.

This was no mere contest of vanity; it concerned the life and death of everyone present, and he intended to seize that responsibility of his own accord.

Beginning from this very moment, through the medium of this assembly, he would establish his position within the team with absolute clarity, including his leadership over the four experts.

Yet, to the observers, this display appeared as though Minister Karen, who had been tasked with selecting the volunteers, was still refusing to miss an opportunity to impart his solemn, repetitive counsel upon them. To the rest of the room, it seemed excessively contrived, a blatant pursuit of performance.

"Ahem..."

Lord Kumute, the official newly arrived from the Dinge Great District to oversee the handling of this crisis, let out a cough of mild displeasure.

At this, Hoses rose from his seat and deliberately declared in a ringing voice, "Minister Karen, I must ask you to return to your proper place now. We are well aware of your profound sense of selflessness and devotion, having placed so many of your own men into the ranks of the volunteers. However, today's meeting is entirely bereft of any journalist friends. No matter how long you stand there or how many poses you strike, it shall be of no avail."

The words were delivered with a calculated malice.

Piro, who also sat upon the stage, cast a deeply displeased glare at Hoses, cursing inwardly at how incredibly petty this fellow's temperament truly was.

The entire hall heard Hoses's declaration, and Karen naturally heard it as well. He turned around, casting his gaze toward the front stage, sweeping past the numerous dignitaries and the great figures within the communication arrays, until his eyes finally came to rest upon Burn.

The roster had been submitted in a timely fashion, yet the Chief Bishop had used his official privilege to withhold it.

It was then that Burn, the Chief Bishop of the York City Great District, stood up. Employing a voice-amplifying spell, he addressed the entire assembly:

The Chief of the Order's Whip Enforcement Department for our region, Karen, will personally lead the team to execute this mission.