13 Mink Street

Chapter 92: Praise

The candle continued to burn.

Karon leaned back in his chair, his arms braced on the backrest and his head tilted upward. Steam that had risen before now condensed overhead, forming droplets that intermittently splashed down onto his face.

The golden retriever was still sprawled across the floor, its limbs limp and its chin pressed to the cushion. Its tongue lolled out as its belly rose and fell with heavy breaths.

After recounting all that had just occurred, Pu’er fell silent and began grooming her tail again. One man, one cat, one dog just sat there. The hall sank into a long stretch of silence.

At last, Karon drew a deep breath and straightened up.

After completing his purification, he had not noticed any changes to his eyesight or hearing, but there was no denying that the way that he perceived the world had shifted. It was as though a filter had been added, one that allowed him to sense colors that had not previously existed. However, that filter was not over his eyes, but within his heart.

The world was still the same world. Karon was still himself. The difference was that what had once been cold, direct contact now carried something like a resonance, an atmospheric correspondence.

The sensation felt usable, or even tangible. It should apply to basic Church of Order Arts and to the notes Mr. Hoffen had prepared.

For now, though, Karon was of no mind to think about any of that.

“So earlier, it really was almost out of control?” he asked.

Pu’er blinked and answered honestly. “Not almost; it was out of control. Completely. It left my grasp. Fortunately, it ended without incident.”

“At a moment like this, what am I supposed to say?” Karon asked. “Praise the God of Order, or the God of Light?”

Pu’er flicked her tail, checking that it had returned to normal. “This is what this world is really like. Most of the time, we’re walking along the edge of life and death. Even without external enemies, the pursuit of progress alone is enough to lure people into corruption, or even self-contamination.”

“Next time, give me a bit of warning,” Karon said. “I really thought I was undergoing a normal purification. I was even wondering how purification could be so dangerous. If this is normal, ninety percent of believers would probably die during the process each year.”

“I didn’t anticipate this either,” Pu’er agreed. “And I doubt Tiz did. At least this serves as a warning to all of us: anything involving gods can’t be judged by ordinary logic.”

She paused, then added, “I misjudged the risk because this all surpassed my knowledge. For that, I am sorry, Karon.”

“Is that thing,” he asked. “The reason you became a cat?”

“No,” Pu’er replied, shaking her head. “Though without it, I would never have even had the chance to survive as a cat. What happened back then no longer matters, and the one who acted against me is already dead.”

“Oh.”

Karon stood. Pu’er leapt onto his shoulder and reached out to pat his face with a paw. “Cheer up! You are now a glorious Divine Servant! A servant purified by the God of Order Himself! You should be excited. Elated!”

“What’s the difference?” Karon asked. “I don’t feel anything special.”

“Think of it like elementary school vocabulary,” the cat explained. “Everyone studies the same words. You score a hundred, and your classmates also score a hundred, but that’s only because the test covers just what is on the paper.

“However, while your classmates focus on memorizing the required words, you’ve already memorized the entire Marcan Language Dictionary. Maybe even more than that. The classics. The essays. The novels.

“As Divine Servants, you all look to be at the same while in elementary school, but that’s because the limits of the curriculum hide the difference. Once you reach middle school, the gap will become obvious.

“There are likely other effects as well, but you’ll have to discover them yourself. Kind of like how Mary sent Mina and Lent to special interest classes when they were children; You might uncover talents you never knew you had.”

“I understand.” Karon nodded.

He reached out and nudged the chair. The golden retriever finally crawled out from beneath it, slowly and shakily.

“I should be the one who’s the most exhausted,” Karon observed. “And yet Kevin looks like he’s gone through ten purifications.”

“He was frightened,” Pu’er replied. “That’s how heretical gods are. In orthodox myths, the God of Light spent the previous two epochs labeling gods as heretical gods, and then the God of Order rose. Before killing any deity, He would first declare them to be heretical gods.

“So to him, it was like a mouse suddenly seeing two... ah.” Pu’er frowned. “I want a better metaphor!”

“No need,” Karon interrupted. He gestured to the pool. “Is all of this wasted now?”

“You’ve found gold and you’re still concerned about sand?”

“You told me this would take three days and three nights.”

“I really expected it to take that long,” Pu’er protested. “If not, I wouldn’t have arranged a schedule for the radio demon to deliver meals, or assigned the idiot dog to fetch them.”

“We had the hall rebuilt to hold this reservoir,” Karon continued. “Spent manpower and resources acquiring so much holy water. Three days was reduced to two hours, and barely any of the gathered resources were used.”

“Oh,” Pu’er quickly responded. “I see. You’re worried about how this will look to those idiots. Or rather, that they will think you were just putting on a show.

“We absolutely can’t tell them what actually happened here. They are not qualified to know.”

“What I’m worried about is that next time we ask them to prepare things, they’ll cut corners,” Karon said. “I asked for a pool of holy water, and they delivered it, only for barely any of it to be used. If my requests become nothing more than a formality, no one will take things seriously again.”

“That is a problem,” Pu’er agreed. “So far, their attitude has been commendable. I would rather they not lose even that.”

At that moment, the golden retriever stretched out his head to the pool and started to lap up the water. He immediately started drinking much more greedily. His tail wagged, and his lethargy vanished.

Pu’er froze, then jumped down to test the water herself. She reached out with a paw and then licked it. Her eyes lit up, and she immediately bent down to drink with equal enthusiasm.

“What’s wrong with the water?” Karon asked, crouching down.

The dog finished first. He rolled onto his side, his belly swollen.

Pu’er copied him, though in a more composed manner. She laid down and smiled up at Karon. “Problem solved. This pool should now be called blessed water. Outsiders might call it holy water, but that term is descriptive, not absolute. There are grades. The finger of the God of Light and the radiance it released redid the blessing on this water, tripling its quality.

“Before, it was something that could still be bought with secular currency, but this can only be purchased with credits. Drinking it will restore stamina and relieve fatigue, but its true value is as a material for crafting holy relics.

“We can leave now. Seeing this return on their investment, the family will be even more enthusiastic for your next request, and they’ll start to worship you even more.”

Pu’er stretched. “Come on, Karon. I drank too much. You need to carry me.”

He bent down and lifted her.

Kevin hopefully extended a paw. Karon stepped over him.

“...”

“You aren’t going to drink some?” Pu’er asked. “You look exhausted.”

“Physically, yes,” Karon replied. “But mentally, I am exhilarated.”

“That makes sense. You just completed purification.”

Alfred was still kneeling outside. Only when he finally sensed the pressure lifting did he dare to raise his head. He saw Karon emerge, carrying Pu’er. The golden retriever wobbled on its feet behind them.

“Young Master...”

Pu’er gestured for silence. Alfred understood, retrieved his umbrella, and escorted Karon down the steps.

When they reached the eaves of the manor, Master Anderson and the others rushed over, fearing that something must have gone wrong. Master Anderson pushed his grandson aside, ignoring the rain as he hurried forward on his cane.

“Young Master Karon, this...”

“There was an accident,” Karon calmly reported.

“An accident...” Master Anderson’s lips trembled.

“It was a success.”

“Oh! That is good news. We can prepare again, if needed.”

“Seal the hall,” Karon ordered. “Especially protect the remaining water. Arrange for proper transport and storage.”

“Yes. Understood.”

Karon walked past them and into the manor.

Eunice came down the stairs. “Are things delayed?”

“It ended early.”

“Congratulations,” she said. “I was about to help prepare dinner to be taken to the hall. I wanted to do something for you.”

“I missed your cooking,” Karon jokingly replied. “Sending food from the kitchen to the living room already feels like a crime, let alone to the performance hall through the rain.”

She laughed.

Pu’er leapt over onto the golden retriever’s back. The dog shuddered, but managed to steady himself.

Both animals were exhausted, frightened, and far too full. All they wanted for the moment was to rest. They had no interest in lingering to watch dull, pre-birth domestic exchanges.

The golden retriever wobbled as he carried Pu’er up the stairs. Karon glanced at Alfred, who immediately followed behind, catching both the cat and dog when the dog nearly tripped halfway up the stairs.

“Young Master, I’ll head up first,” Alfred called out as he lifted Pu’er and Kevin. He had questions for Pu’er.

Karon noticed a chair in the corridor and walked over to sit down. Only then did he realize there was an easel in front of the chairs, with brushes neatly set beside it. The painting was mostly finished. It showed the manor entrance beneath the eaves. Master Anderson stood at the front of the group, leaning on his cane while facing the distant performance hall.

It was clear that the old man’s gaze was not focused on the hall itself. There was a faint vacancy to his eyes, as well as a tinge of anxiety. Hidden even further below was some clear unease.

Behind him, Mike sat in his wheelchair, accompanied by the rest of the family.

The middle-aged members wore restrained, severe expressions, while the younger ones looked faintly impatient. However, because their grandfather insisted on waiting there, no one dared leave. They could only remain with him.

Karon realized that the glass windows of the corridor offered a vantage point for a perfect view of the main entrance. Clearly, the painter must have used the seat while working.

“My father painted it,” Eunice said.

“I can tell,” Karon replied.

Bede was absent from the painting. As the current patriarch, Bede should have been standing beside Master Anderson, sharing the responsibility of entrusting their family’s future to an outsider. It should have been father and son together, bound by the complicated mixture of hope and unease.

Yet Bede had not been there. Instead, he had chosen to sit in an upper corridor and paint. He truly was unsuited to be a proper leader of the family. Even if one was unwilling, appearances still mattered.

The man was an artist to his core.

At that moment, a wave of noise rose from outside. Master Anderson and Mike were cheering excitedly at the entrance to the performance hall. Clearly, they had discovered the transformation in the holy water.

Not only had their earlier worries concerning whether or not Karon had completed his purification too quickly vanished, they were suddenly marveling at the miraculousness of his result. The value of that single pool of holy water alone was enough to equal the Allen family’s net profits from their workshops for two full quarters.

That was also the credit value, not the value of disposable paper currency.

“Grandfather and the others seem very happy.” Eunice was rather puzzled.

“Yes,” Karon replied, his attention lingering on the painting.

He had initially been admiring the figures, but he found himself sensing the atmosphere of the painting instead. There was a hint of familiarity to it. He could not pinpoint where it came from. It was not in the brushwork, nor in the composition. It was just a feeling of familiarity.

It was a sensation. This must be part of what it meant to become a Divine Servant.

Much to his surprise, he also found that this feeling matched with fragments buried in his memory.

Just then, Bede ran back to the manor through the rain, excitement plain on his face. “Young Master Karon, you are incredible. Truly incredible!”

“Father, I’ll fetch you a towel,” Eunice said.

“Yes, thank you.” Bede pulled a chair over and sat down in front of Karon, still overly excited. “I’ve never heard of anything like this! Father is ecstatic.”

Karon nodded, but offered no explanation. None was needed.

However, Bede had misunderstood the reason for Master Anderson’s excitement. The old man was not excited about the credit-value of the holy water, but the miracle that Karon himself had experienced. That had only served to solidify Master Anderson’s hopes and conviction.

The fact that the family’s patriarch had missed even that was telling.

Karon looked at Bede and asked, “Mr. Bede, may I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Bede replied, calming himself.

“Have you never been able to pass the family faith-system test?”

Bede was surprised by the question, but he answered with a wry smile. “Yes. My bloodline aptitude has always fallen short of my two elder brothers’. I never believed I was qualified to inherit the position of patriarch.

“Honestly, if I didn’t resemble my father so much in old photographs of him, I suspect he might doubt whether I am truly his son.” He laughed. “Thank goodness for photography! If we only had oil paintings, who knows!”

Bede joked without reservation, and Karon laughed along.

Then, amid the laughter, Karon suddenly crossed his arms before his chest and said, “Praise Rilsaar.”

Bede mirrored the motion, almost instinctively. “Praise the Wall God.”