Chapter 720: Purification - God's Servant!

Chapter 720: Purification—Divine Servant!

Mavalor was a divine son of noble status, and the descendants of a divine son stood a certain chance of inheriting some of those traits.

Therefore, the matter of a divine son's offspring had always been treated with absolute seriousness within the Church.

The unique nature of the Whip of Order's duties determined its inherent danger; thus, if Gapor became pregnant, she would temporarily be unsuited to hold the position of Regional Director, and would most likely be promoted by the Church to another department to nurse her pregnancy.

"But, Young Master, surely that would be quite difficult?" Alfred paused. "The personalities of those two do not seem particularly easy to get along with."

Karen shook his head and said:

"It is actually not that difficult. Just as the success rate of a scam often depends not on how brilliant your trickery is, but on how willing the victim is deep down to believe it.

Power and responsibility are always reciprocal.

Since Mavalor enjoys the halo of prestige that comes with his status as a divine son, he must endure alienation from his family, as well as the forfeiture of his right to choose a partner, or even his right to reproduce.

Suse left upon being promoted for his meritorious service. With the position of a regional director vacant, countless eyes are burning with envy. Gapor's ability to be dropped directly into this post from her role as a presiding judge in charge of trials in the Dingle region cannot be separated from her identity as the divine son's wife.

They are both highly intelligent people, intelligent enough that even if their temperaments clash—even if they were bitter enemies who wished to draw blades and hack each other apart by day—they would still consciously lie in the same bed at night to fulfill their duties.

This is an inevitability they both understand clearly in their hearts, so we only need to introduce a minor element of intervention to accelerate the process."

"The Young Master is wise."

Alfred's praise came from the bottom of his heart, for his own proposed scheme was indeed somewhat too extreme.

If they could secure that position without resorting to an open, bitter struggle, it would naturally be for the best.

Alfred knew that their circle was in a great rush, because they were racing against time—or more precisely, racing against Lord Lasma.

If the Young Master wanted to preserve this group, and even save his own life, he had to climb as high as possible before Lord Lasma's return.

Just then, the sound of a transmission echoed from the shell near his ear.

Alfred immediately reported: "Young Master, a squad ahead has detected traces of an assassin's concealment. Do we need to intercept them ahead of time?"

Karen: "Intercept."

Without a shred of hesitation, Karen had absolutely no intention of deliberately letting the assassin approach just to play around.

This had nothing to do with whether he had lost his power now; even if he were in peak condition, he had no interest in putting on a show to meet and converse with an assassin.

"Yes, Young Master."

About a quarter of an hour later, Alfred replied: "Young Master, the assassin has been slain. The investigation into their identity is underway."

"Mm. If clues can be found, follow them. If not... pick a suitable candidate from the list of our enemies' factions and fabricate the evidence. Let us not waste the assassin's hard work."

"Yes, Young Master."

Having reached this position, superfluous mercy was no longer appropriate to distribute. Faced with such provocations, one must strike back decisively, or else face endless trouble.

One must remember that on the night the Leon family was nearly exterminated, the funeral parlor at Karen's home had also almost become a river of blood. Thus, assassination attempts had already become Karen's ultimate red line.

As the motorcade neared the Allen Manor, figures of the Whip of Order members were already visible on the road ahead. They had formed a protective guard post to secure the safety of their director.

Puer leaned her paws against the car window, looking outside, and smiled: "Karen, were you also one of those standing guard before, meow?"

Karen nodded.

"It is so fast. How long has it been, and now you have become someone who needs heavy protection, meow."

Alfred spoke: "What changes is the position; what remains constant is serving Order."

"Alright, Alfred." Karen could not help but interrupt him, reminding, "In the future, when only our own people are present, you can be more relaxed."

"But Young Master, this is truly what is in your subordinate's heart, without a shred of hypocrisy."

The VIP vehicle drove into the interior of the manor.

Before parking, Alfred reported: "Young Master, there is still no news of Neo. Since our meeting ended that day, he seems to have vanished. There are no signs of his recent presence at his usual haunts or the Remnants of Light office."

"He will come."

How could someone like him miss this "Divine Servant process"? For a priest, this was practically the second "coming-of-age ceremony" in life, and my own purification requires the finger of the God of Light...

After all, who could refuse becoming the "godfather" to their own good friend?

Before Karen stepped out of the vehicle, the personnel from the Whip of Order had already entered the ancient castle ahead of him, beginning to deploy security on every floor.

Old Anderson, as usual, waited nearby with the core members of the Allen family. However, because today's grand display was unprecedented, Old Anderson did not step forward to greet him this time.

He admitted that he suffered from stage fright today, and along with him, the rest of the Allen family felt the same.

Previously, they only knew how high their grandson-in-law's current position was, but it was not until today that they truly felt the crushing pressure brought by such a title.

Today, Karen was not fully covered in bandages; instead, he wore a looser divine robe and put on a mask, choosing this way to present himself to others.

Alfred pushed Karen, who was sitting in a wheelchair, into the castle and arrived at the Patriarch's office.

"Stupid dog, let's go!"

Kevin carried Puer off to frolic, which was a mandatory ritual every time Puer returned to her maternal home.

Little Conna watched their retreating figures; she wanted to go too.

"Go play together," Karen said.

"But I need to protect you." Little Conna remembered her duty.

"It is fine. Here, I am very safe."

"Safe?"

"For now, yes. Don't worry, go play. When I need you, I will have someone call you over to keep me company."

"Okay."

Little Conna chased after Kevin.

Filomina turned around, intending to leave as well.

"You don't have to leave."

"Oh, okay."

Alfred leaned down and said: "Young Master, I will go outside to coordinate things."

"Mm."

Alfred walked out of the office, leaving only Karen and Filomina inside.

A moment later, a knock sounded on the office door. Karen pressed the desk bell, the door opened, and the figure of Grandmother appeared.

She stopped in her tracks, frowning as she looked at Filomina, and asked: "How can you be so completely devoid of alertness?"

Filomina replied: "Because I recognized your aura."

"Slap!"

A bright red palm print appeared on Filomina's left cheek, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

"Do you not know that an aura can easily be disguised?"

Filomina said nothing, merely using the tip of her tongue to silently lick away the trace of blood.

"A foolish person can never become a top assassin. By the same token, they cannot become a qualified protector. To say nothing of protecting others, even self-preservation would be difficult for them."

Karen sat silently behind his desk, watching his grandmother scold the strongest subordinate he had under his command.

Logically speaking, it was inappropriate for him to interject when someone else was disciplining their pupil, but Karen desperately wanted to remind his grandmother that every single slap she landed on the girl's face today would very likely be paid back upon her own grandson in the future.

Yet on second thought, putting Richard’s other virtues aside for a moment, enduring a beating was his absolute forte, so there seemed to be no need for any superfluous reminders.

Madame Tangli reached out, grabbing the back of Philomena’s neck to force the girl’s face close to hers, and continued her admonishment:

"Therefore, as a fool, the smartest choice is to remember every single word and every piece of experience your teacher imparts to you, and at no time should you let your guard down, do you understand?"

"I understand."

Madame Tangli turned around, looking at Karen, the stern expression on her face