13 Mink Street

Chapter 101: The Lie Of God!

“Order is what I decree, and what you must obey.”

When the words resounded in his mind, Karon, seated upon the steps, quietly closed his eyes.

“Young Master Karon?” Ms. Jenny looked at him in confusion. Just moments before, he had been chatting and laughing with her. She instinctively leaned closer to take another look, but Eunice gently pulled her back.

Alfred also noticed the change in his young master. Though he stood behind the young man, at that instant Alfred sensed a shift in Karon’s bearing. It was as if his master were sitting in a cathedral, devoutly listening to a priest’s sermon.

Alfred immediately stepped down the stairs to stand in front of Karon.

Borg did not know what had happened, but when he saw Alfred move, he promptly took up a position directly behind Karon. One in front and one behind, they enclosed Karon between them.

Seeing this, Eunice immediately drew her mother away.

“What is this...”

“Shh.” Eunice raised a finger. Ms. Jenny nodded once, indicating she understood.

In truth, due to their time together in Roja City and traveling back to Veyn on the cruise ship, Ms. Jenny had long held a fixed impression of Karon. Not only that, the man before her was her future son-in-law. She had already seen him from the perspective of a mother-in-law for quite some time.

That was also why she had found it difficult to adjust after returning home and witnessing the immense respect her father-in-law showed towards Karon, as well as his meteoric rise within the Allen family.

As a daughter-in-law to the Allen family who came from an ordinary background, Ms. Jenny was aware of the Allen family’s peculiar nature and many of the secrets of the inner circle, yet had never experienced them firsthand.

She harbored no ill intent. It was merely that, at times when she spoke to Karon or dealt with him directly, she would make a point to act a bit more intimate, savoring the vanity and satisfaction she felt in front of her sisters-in-law.

In the distance, once Master Anderson personally drove away royal palace’s officials, Bede finally found a moment of respite and began walking back. He truly disliked handling the mundane affairs of his family, yet with his father’s advanced age, his eldest brother absent, and his second brother confined to a wheelchair, whenever serious matters arose, Bede had no choice but to step forward.

However, when his gaze caught Karon sitting on the steps at the entrance of the manor, the man instinctively halted. “Divine Seeker?”

For a very long time, no, across several epochs, the priests who served the true gods had looked down on family faith systems and believers who focused solely on excavating the potential of their bloodlines. It was a deeply rooted hierarchical contempt.

Others might not understand, but Bede knew exactly what Karon was undergoing. He had only just completed his purification... How long had it been?

Each church might have its own unique terminology for the initial three stages of Divine Servant, Divine Seeker, and Divine Shepherd, yet the essence of those ranks remained the same.

Divine Servant referred to adjusting one’s body to the proper state. Divine Seeker meant receiving guidance from one’s god. Divine Shepherd meant receiving that god’s recognition.

Each stage appeared similar to the others, yet they were profoundly different. The most critical stage was Divine Seeker. Whatever guidance a god bestowed would largely determine one’s weight and position in that god’s eyes.

It was said that in the eyes of a true god, all beings were equal, yet that was often nothing more than a platitude. Perhaps gods truly did see things that way, and to a god all mortals were mere ants. It was possible that believers were simply ants of a more pleasing color. Thus, whatever ants did, whatever roles they divided among themselves, even the ant queen could not change the fact that she remained an ant in the god’s eyes.

But the ants did not think so.

It was like departmental divisions within a system. Those engaged in research and those sweeping the floors both served the system and both contributed, but were they truly the same?

So, Karon, what Divine Seeker revelation will the God of Order grant you?

When Bede noticed Karon’s eyes were closed and the aura of devotion surrounding him, a faint smile touched the man’s lips. He had once experienced something similar. After receiving divine revelation, he had entered a state of reverie. He still deeply cherished that moment.

During that brief time, he had held a paintbrush while sitting upon the manor’s green lawn. In less than half a minute, he had witnessed the changing of the four seasons within the estate.

When the god spoke to you, your perspective, your emotions, your inner self aligned with the divine. While the moment could be brief, it was enough to savor for a lifetime. It was the purest exchange between a person and their god.

Only, it was too short, much too short.

Bede had specifically inquired about Divine Seeker experiences and had learned that his half-minute was already considered unusually long. Most Divine Seeker revelations lasted no more than three seconds.

Yet even those three seconds could leave a priest with a memory for the rest of their life.

Moreover, whatever insight and benefits were received during that time could guide one’s future path. How much spiritual elevation one obtained depended entirely upon the individual.

Five seconds have passed, Bede thought.

Ten seconds have passed. Impressive.

Half a minute has passed. Longer than mine...

One minute has passed. Tch. Tiz’s grandson.

***

Karon knew what the Divine Seeker state was like, because Pu’er’s original plan had been to elevate him swiftly and cleanly to the rank of Divine Shepherd before pushing to the level of Inquisitor.

Yet even Pu’er had not expected revelation to arrive so soon. Karon himself had not expected it.

At this moment, however, he was entirely free of all distractions, fully immersed in the sensation.

His eyes were closed, yet his “eyes” were open.

By his ears, he faintly heard the sound of rushing water. Was his reservoir leaking outward?

Having experimented with the Spear of Punishment for more than a week, Karon was no longer unfamiliar with this sensation of flowing water. In fact, simply lacking that sense of tearing pain, as if his forehead was being struck, and having his nose bleed was already quite reassuring. He knew his reservoir was deep and expansive. If there was only an ordinary flow, it could last a very long time.

Before his eyes, the world was rendered in shades of gray and white. He first saw himself, seated upon the steps, and from his body extended a thread, stretching outward.

That first thread was gray. It stretched out far, arriving at the workers who were busy within the performance hall.

“This job isn’t difficult.”

“Yeah. Without those fellows wearing white wigs, it’s much easier.”

“I heard the head of the Allen family personally drove them off.”

“Haha, good. We’ll finish before sunset. We won’t need to rise before dawn tomorrow and rush back here. We can sleep in properly.”

“Right. Once we finish today, we should receive our wages. The Allen family always settles quickly.”

“Then let’s hurry up. Do you think the Allen Consortium will bother withholding such a small sum? Ridiculous.”

The workers continued to labor inside the building while the gray thread that extended from Karon wound itself around each of them, completely unnoticed.

After encircling each worker, it continued on.

Outside the hall, a group of male servants was rearranging potted plants.

“It’s convenient to transplant flowers from the manor itself. No need to bring them from outside.”

“Yes. The ones brought from outside rarely meet proper standards, which is troublesome.”

“Those royal officials even insisted on specific varieties. Why don’t they simply take His Highness back to the palace for his funeral?”

“It’s said to be an aristocratic honor to host a royal funeral.”

“I’m no aristocrat. I get no honor.”

“Still, once the funeral ends, will we have to transplant these flowers back?”

“Probably not, but we will definitely need to repair the turf.”

“Sigh. More work.”

“How long will you continue complaining? As servants of the Allen family, maintaining the beauty of the Allen manor is our sacred duty.”

“Yes, Head Butler.”

“Yes, Head Butler.”

The gray thread twined around the workers, then circled wide and entered the manor.

“The silver all needs to be polished carefully; They’ll be used at the funeral.”

“The plates must be spotless as well.”

“Not a single corner of the manor can be overlooked. Her Majesty may stay here during the funeral. We cannot skip any decorum, nor bring shame upon the master or the Allen family.”

Within the manor, the maids worked diligently as the gray thread passed through each of them.

At last, the thread returned to the entrance and merged back into Karon’s body.

They are all acting according to my instructions: preparing for the funeral and preparing to receive Her Majesty.

I set the requirements. I set the rules. What they obey is the order I established.

Karon frowned. Instinctively, he wanted to affirm that this was correct. The circuit of the gray thread seemed to validate that statement: Order is what I decree, and what you must obey.

Yet Karon instinctively sensed that something was wrong. Perhaps such a statement might satisfy a god, but it could not verify his own heart.

People were acting according to his instructions, yet the workers labored for wages, and the servants acted for the honor of belonging to Allen Manor.

Even without him, they would still be walking forward. His arrival had merely altered the direction of their steps, or perhaps his appearance itself was merely another part of their natural course.

Everything of a god was supreme, and what a god speaks is regarded as truth, as constant and unquestioned as the turning of the sun and moon.

Yet for Karon, dialectical thought was not a skill, but something etched into the depths of his spirit. Even when standing before God, he would not set it aside.

At that moment, Karon saw another thread extend from within him. It wound around Alfred standing before him, around Borg behind him, and then around Ms. Jenny and Eunice. It moved on to Master Anderson in the distance, and then finally around Mr. Bede.

After that, the thread reentered the manor, as if seeking, as if pushing towards something already known.

It wrapped around Pu’er, the golden retriever, and every person within the manor.

The next instant, the threads on each entwined individual began to change color. Each color seemed to represent a different attribute of Order radiating outward, each of them serving as the color’s center.

For a time, Karon’s mind was filled with countless threads of color. The complexity and meaning they carried struck him like an immense spiritual shock.

Boom! He felt as though a heavily rusted iron rod pierced straight through his skull.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!”

After the climax of the impact, silence fell. Yet even then, the anticipated end did not arrive. Before him was utter darkness. Looking up, he saw neither stars nor moon.

He suddenly felt cold. No wind blew, but a biting chill came in waves. He instinctively tried to wrap his arms around himself for warmth, only to be shocked by the discovery that he had no arms.

Looking down, he realized that he had completely merged with the darkness. It was complete; nothing at all remained.

He was like a lone soul.

Upon realizing this, he felt even colder. He had lost all support and security, left confused and helpless, which brought about a despair akin to being abandoned by the world.

He began to move forward. He did not know whether he was truly walking, for he had no legs, and the darkness on either side offered no reference to confirm his movement.

Yet if he wished to leave this place, he needed to advance by instinct. He could not simply remain in place and weep.

Perhaps it was a belief buried in his bones. It was not lofty. It feared death, feared setbacks, and feared pressure. When faced with negativity, it could be dragged out and kneaded.

It could weep, yet even while weeping, it would persist and move forward.

This had nothing to do with ideals, nor with proving anything. The world might abandon you, but you must at least answer to yourself.

Perhaps the word “answer” was too grand. In the end, you must at least allow your heart to accept it.

Gradually, he sensed a new reference point. He was growing colder. That progressive sensation was like a person approaching a bonfire and feeling warmth intensify. In any case, he was indeed moving.

***

“Is he still not done?” Bede had completely lost control of his expression. His shock was unmistakable.

The others in his family were either ordinary people or followers of the family’s faith system, which meant that they lacked a clear understanding of what was occurring.

Bede knew, as he had experienced it himself. It was precisely because he had experienced it that he understood how precious the process was.

At that moment, a memory surfaced in Bede’s mind. An elderly man sat before him, and Bede stood respectfully in his presence.

“I dislike the Wall God Church, not because of the God of Order, nor because of its doctrine.

“It is because I believe you followers of the Wall God Church have long misunderstood your own doctrine. You pursue renunciation with near-madness, hoping to obtain the beauty of artistic devotion through abandonment.”

“Can doctrine be wrong?” Bede asked respectfully.

“Can doctrine not be wrong?”

“Doctrine is the will of god.”

“Can a god not be wrong?”

“Forgive me, but I do not understand you.”

“I am curious whether you will suffer.”

“Suffer...”

“The more you attempt to abandon something, the more it reveals what you truly care about. Some bonds are not confined to a surname or an awakening of bloodline.”

“I... I do not know.”

“I permit your daughter to become my grandson’s wife.”

“Thank you for your mercy and grace.”

“I take pride in this.”

“If you are willing, I would like to hear more.”

“What elders least wish to see is their descendants walking the same mistaken path.”

“Are you saying your present self has taken a wrong path?”

“What if it was wrong from the beginning?”

“Then...”

“The farther you go, the more mistakes you accumulate.”

“I am dull; I do not understand.”

“Perhaps you will understand in the future.”

“Understand... what?”

“You will understand that even the gods will deceive you.”

***

The golden retriever carried Pu’er down the stairs and to the entrance of the manor.

Alfred and Borg were still standing in front and behind Karon.

“Woof,” the dog barked softly.

“So fast... already a Divine Seeker?” Pu’er’s feline eyes widened. “This is exactly like Tiz back then.”

In Pu’er’s established thinking, Tiz had been a singular existence. One might compare certain prodigies to him, but none would ever be able to truly match him. Tiz had been unique.

However, what she saw before her forced Pu’er to acknowledge that Karon, Tiz’s grandson, was retracing his path.

“His foundation is extraordinarily deep; deep enough to make most Divine Servants despair. Thus, when he receives the Divine Seeker revelation, he will gain far greater inspiration. How I look forward to it. I truly look forward to what revelation the God of Order will grant Karon.”

“Woof,” the golden retriever barked again.

Pu’er jumped down and slowly walked over to Karon’s side. While doing so, she noticed the unmistakable shock on Bede’s face.

Yes, shock.

When Pu’er looked at Karon’s expression, she froze as well.

There was no sign of devotion or bliss on that face. Instead, Karon’s brow was tightly furrowed and he was biting his lips. He looked to be enduring pain or trapped within a nightmare.

Was this still the process of becoming a Divine Seeker?

***

Cold. So cold.

Though he possessed no limbs within the darkness, long habit preserved the sensation.

His legs were frozen stiff, unable to bend.

His arms could not swing, fixed at his sides.

His skin cracked, the blood within seeming to freeze.

His mind grew muddled, as though his brain itself were turning to ice.

Even his soul had become an ice sculpture, too fragile to touch, lest it shatter.

In such a moment, any warmth, even a single matchstick, would drive a person mad with the desire to seize it, even to swallow the flame.

In hazy awareness, a sentence began to repeatedly echo in his mind:

“Order is what I decree, and what you must obey.”

“Order is what I decree, and what you must obey.”

“Order is what I decree, and what you must obey.”

So long as he recited it, so long as he followed it, so long as he believed it, all suffering would end, and he would be able to return to warmth.

Beneath his feet lay a frozen kingdom. Before him lay a fallen hell. Only by chanting His name and praising His greatness could true salvation be obtained.

Yet Karon did not do so. He stubbornly continued forward. He longed for warmth, longed for fire, yet the more the sentence churned within his mind, the more indifferent he felt.

It was a strange sensation, like drowning while someone on the shore extended a bamboo pole to pull you to safety, yet instead of gratitude, you found yourself resenting him more and more. It defied logic, and yet that was what was happening.

At that moment, he heard the sound of flowing water weakening. His state was nearing the end.

When the water ran dry, he would fall unconscious and escape his current torment. It would be a release, a forgiveness granted by himself to himself.

It was not that he lacked perseverance, though he did not even know what he persevered for. Nor was it that he lacked effort, though he did not know whether his direction was correct.

But finally, he could lie down. It would end.

Then anger surged within him. Why should it end this way? Why should it end at all?

He continued forward. He did not know what lay ahead; perhaps nothing at all. Yet while water still flowed within him, he would take one more step. As long as it had not completely run dry, he would move as far as he could.

At that moment, his grandfather’s voice sounded within his heart. “Because you, Karon, do not believe in god.”

Karon smiled.

He finally understood. Because he did not believe in god. He could accept purification from a god, he could learn their Arts, but to sit and listen to divine instruction, his natural disbelief compelled him to question it.

If the god’s words were as inevitable as night yielding to day, then he would walk from night into day and verify it for himself, because he feared being deceived.

At last, the water ran dry. He sensed he could no longer move, yet he forced himself to step forward once more, or rather, he hurled himself forward. Even half a meter, half a decimeter, half a centimeter, he would complete it.

He fell to the ground with a loud thud.

The cold vanished instantly. The darkness faded into gray and white visibility.

He looked in astonishment at his hands, able once more to move his body. They had always been there.

Turning his head to look back, he saw that the path he had traversed was a gray and white canyon. He had been following along the groove all along.

I have hands. I have feet. I can walk on my own. I am not lost. I do not need to despair.

The long darkness had concealed the path that was already there. I do not require guidance.

So... Was I drowning?

No.

It was the one holding the bamboo pole who was struggling in the water. The pole extended was not to save me, but to drag me down.

“Order is what I decree, and what you must obey.” The voice echoed once more in his mind.

Karon began to laugh, openly and without restraint. As the scenery surrounding him rapidly collapsed and his consciousness started to withdraw, he drew in a breath and shouted, “Order did not begin with you.”