13 Mink Street

Chapter 109: Another Divine Seeking

Earl Rekar climbed back out of his grave. This time, his movements were gentle, lacking the recklessness he had demonstrated before. Perhaps the first time had felt like checking out of a hotel, but he now understood that this place was his eternal home, and naturally one would treat such a place with greater care.

“I was just down there thinking about which posture I should take when lying dead. Strangely enough, the first time I died, I never considered that question at all.”

Karon did not waste time exchanging pleasantries with the earl and asked directly, “Earl, can you use your own power to freeze this body of yours?”

“Uh... Hmm... Eh?”

The “uh” came when Earl Rekar was merely puzzled as to why he had been summoned back out just for the young master to ask such a question. The “hmm” came as he started to consider the question and realized there was indeed a possibility of success. Since his water-attribute path had already reached the peak, becoming capable of freezing even death itself, then if that was taken literally, was it not the act of freezing “death”?

When the “eh” came, Rekar had already moved further in his reasoning. If he could suspend this body from its irreversible state of continuously dissipating its spirituality, then the purpose could only be for him to wait, and what would the result of waiting be?

For those who have experienced death once, when facing it again, they are unlikely to treat it lightly. More often, they treasure even more the chance to continue living. Karon was like that, and so was Earl Rekar.

At that moment, the former pirate king did not wait for Karon to say anything further. He went down to one knee once again. “I am willing to obey your will and freeze myself.”

As he agreed, the man lowered himself even further, committing himself completely and immediately.

After learning from Pu’er that this young man was truly extraordinary, and after personally being awakened by a mere Divine Servant, Earl Rekar naturally held much greater expectations for the future.

“Good. Try it.”

“Yes.” Earl Rekar stood beside his tomb and spread his hands. A tremendous amount of ice mist began swirling above his palms. He looked straight at Karon and solemnly stated, “If this succeeds, on the day I revive, I will offer you my full loyalty.”

Having spoken, he pressed both palms to his own chest. Frost appeared instantly at the point of contact, and then spread rapidly. In moments, the man was completely frozen, forming a human-shaped ice statue.

Karon stepped forward to examine it carefully, instinctively extending his hand.

“Young Master...” Alfred hurried forward to warn him about frostbite.

Karon shook his head to signal that he was fine. His hand did not make contact with the frozen body, and instead hovered just above it. Karon felt along the surface through the air.

Alfred blinked and activated his Succubus Eye to observe the ice sculpture. Pu’er also drew closer to inspect it carefully. The golden retriever, unwilling to appear out of place, ran over as well and sniffed around the statue.

The scene resembled people examining a dish covered in plastic wrap and placed in a freezer, trying to determine whether it had spoiled.

“He seems sealed,” Karon said. “What do you think?”

“Young Master, I cannot see it clearly.”

“I cannot sense it either.”

“Woof. Woof. Woof.” The golden retriever barked three times, then drew two lines on the ground with a paw; one thick, the other thin.

Seeing this, Karon thought for a moment, then said, “There is still a bit of spiritual loss, but it’s negligible when compared to before.”

The dog nodded.

There was no absolute seal in this world. Food placed in a freezer merely slowed its spoilage. In truth, it was still deteriorating. Earl Rekar was an excellent test subject. It would be impossible to find another like him, as only he possessed this absolute freezing ability. Thus, observing him carefully would be crucial.

Alfred said, “We could arrange for a trustworthy person to come periodically and infuse water-attribute power into the ice, similar to maintaining a ritual array.”

“Borg alone might not be enough,” Pu’er immediately interjected. “I suggest we add another. Judia was brought here in a box by the queen to serve as a backup sacrifice. She was rescued by Rekar and is currently sleeping. She is quite talented, and was even personally acknowledged by Rekar as his daughter.

“She cannot return to the Gloria family. Officially, she will be declared dead as well. I suggest she remain here at Allen Manor and, together with Borg, maintains Rekar’s ice statue. Her power is closely attuned to his, and she will cherish her father dearly, so her work will be meticulous.”

Alfred had originally intended to place another layer of oversight on Borg. He was momentarily surprised, but after hearing Pu’er’s explanation, he understood: Pu’er was making her own move as well.

Good. Very good. Anyone who might remain at Young Master’s side in the future, if they can be moved outward, then position them outward. The struggle for a place on the mural is ruthless.

Karon, however, did not notice the subtle maneuvering. He had not yet developed an awareness of being the “boss.” Though the cat, the dog, and even the radio demon saw him as one, Karon still saw himself as more of a frontline researcher. “Fine. Do as you suggest.”

***

Bede helped his second brother, Mike, back into his wheelchair, after he had been tossed away. The chair was bent and damaged, but still usable.

Sitting in it, Mike dejectedly commented, “We descendants are truly a disgrace. Our ancestor was so dissatisfied that he even revoked our right to kneel to him.”

“I think perhaps our ancestor did not want us to see him kneel...” Bede paused before continuing, “His time was limited, so he omitted such formalities.”

“That must be it,” Mike accepted the explanation.

They waited at a distance for a long time, only daring to glance in the direction the cemetery. Neither dared to approach it.

Finally, someone moved towards them. To be precise, a cat approached, riding on the back of a dog.

Seeing the cat, both Bede and Mike respectfully lowered their heads.

Earlier, they and their father, Master Anderson, had instantly believed that an ancestor would awaken to resolve the family crisis because another ancestor had already appeared before them. When Pu’er had donned her old hat and worn her old ornaments, adopting the same posture as before while speaking in her old tone, even the most absurd events had suddenly seemed believable.

“Rekar’s tomb must be repaired. Mike, handle it.”

“Yes, Ancestor,” Mike replied respectfully.

Pu’er then looked at Bede and somberly stated, “The queen is dead and in pieces.”

Bede froze for a moment, processing the words.

“So what do you think the family should do next?”

“I... I don’t know,” Bede answered reflexively.

“The Young Master is tired. He does not wish to deal with such trivialities. He hopes you, as an artist, can take on this burden.”

Bede smiled awkwardly. “Was the queen dismembered?”

“Very thoroughly.”

“Then we place all her pieces in a box and send it directly back to the palace. The Gloria family has likely already prepared a press statement about the queen and Allen Manor suffering a tragedy together. They can use it now.”

“Is that appropriate? Rekar can’t be awakened again.”

“We can act as if he still can. The Gloria royal family will be even more anxious than we are, provided we put on a show of confidence.”

“Good. Who will deliver it?”

“Since the Young Master is occupied, I will go myself to warn the royal family of the cost of crossing the line again.”

“Very well. Also, your father is unconscious under the dining table. There are three others on top of it.”

“I will handle that,” Mike spoke up. “Bede will deal with the royal family, while I will manage matters here. The queen’s attendants and guards will not cause us trouble; We will confine them until the palace issues instructions.”

“Good.” Pu’er looked back at Bede. “The Young Master once said something I find meaningful, and I would like to pass it to you.”

“Please enlighten me, Ancestor.”

“He said an artist must not only pursue high aesthetics, but more importantly, he must grasp the breath of the earth.”

“The breath of the earth?”

“Not giving faith to the Berai Church, simply the earth itself.”

“I think... I understand.”

“Good.” Pu’er nodded. In truth, she did not fully understand the comment herself. Karon seemed fond of constantly uttering short phrases with an oddly formal cadence and peculiar modifiers. They were strange in a way that made it sound as though they were translated from another language, leaving things somewhat stiff and unnatural.

“The greatest crisis has passed. What you must do now is handle the aftermath properly. The Young Master has more important matters to attend to.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

Pu’er tapped the dog’s head, and it ran back for the manor.

Karon indeed had more important matters to attend to. He first checked on Eunice, who was still asleep, and then went to the room on the third floor that had belonged to Alfred. It was adjacent to Karon’s own bedroom. It was less luxurious, but still had its own bathroom.

The only flaw was that the wall shared with his own master bedroom was now densely covered with cracks. It was structurally sound, yet still unsettling.

After bathing, Karon laid on the bed. He could hear sounds of repairs being worked on next door. The servants, having cleared the pieces of the queen, were repairing the damaged room.

Outside, shouting continued as the manor’s clansmen and guards gathered the queen’s attendants and guards in the courtyard.

Alfred drew the curtains and asked softly, “Young Master, shall we change rooms?”

Karon shook his head. “When you are exhausted enough, you can sleep well even on the side of the road.”

“Then rest well. Mr. Bede has already departed for the palace in York City. When you awaken, Allen Manor will be calm again.”

“Bring me my notebook. I want to write before sleeping.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Karon opened the notebook and began writing:

The chains of the awakening Art turned red. This leads me to believe it may be able to change to other colors, likely corresponding to other functions.

Rekar’s awakening lasted only half a night, while Mr. Hoffen remained awake for days after Grandpa awakened him. Miss Mandira intermittently maintained consciousness for days. Rekar’s was brief. This likely relates to the chain turning red. Red may represent the minimum input threshold, meaning the power was only sufficient to start the engine.

He crossed out “start” and replaced it with “ignite.”

My awakening avoids the most cumbersome steps and costs when compared to the Church of Order’s method, but it depends on my own accumulation. If I were an Inquisitor or higher, it would be easier.

Rekar’s self-freezing is essentially placing him in a freezer. With additional measures, this will greatly slow the dissipation of his remaining spirituality.

I hope it will last long enough. When I next awaken him, I must possess the ability to continuously replenish him. That ability is still far from me.

Once I possess it, I will effectively grant the awakened a chance to continue living. Their life and death would be in my hands.

If only Earl Rekar could remain awakened... with him by my side, how much safer would I be.

Here, Karon had unconsciously written with a tone of exclamation.

He had grown accustomed to having Tiz beside him. After the old man had fallen asleep, there was a very real sense of loss in Karon’s heart.

But considering that others might read his notes, Karon added another line:

But I already have Alfred by my side. He is my most loyal guardian.

He adjusted the period and drew a vertical stroke above it, turning it into an exclamation mark.

But once I possess that ability, will I still need to worry about my personal safety?

Probably. It depends on what you intend to do. Even Tiz, when facing the foundation of the Church of Order, chose negotiation.

Karon was tired and did not want to continue writing. Just as he was about to set down the pen and close the notebook, he suddenly paused again.

I’ve noticed that the mythology recorded in Light of Order has started to overlap with my current experiences more and more frequently. I can always find reflections of what I am going through now within that mythology.

I am aware of my uniqueness and difference, so am I walking the same path the God of Order once walked?

Grandpa said the God of Order is hungry. Grandpa also said the God of Order is not a true god.

So I cannot grow complacent just because I can now find points of overlap. Grandpa’s path was wrong, but the path of the God of Order also seems to have had problems.

Perhaps, like Grandpa, the God of Order walked too far and lost the chance to turn back.

Karon reached for the cup and took a sip of ice water. Setting it down, he continued writing:

Am I, right now, truly a Divine Seeker? How should I verify my current realm?

Or should I simply regard myself as still being a Divine Servant, unrelated to Divine Seeking, and perform Divine Seeking again?

But if the god no longer grants me a second revelation, then what?

Leaning against the headboard, pen still in hand, Karon suddenly fell into deep contemplation.

Alfred, who had been standing quietly a short distance away, felt his heart lurch. Every time he saw his young master pick up that notebook to write, he felt as though he were witnessing history in the making.

That was because Alfred firmly believed that the words his young master wrote now would one day become works like Light of Order and Light Epoch and would be passed down for thousands of years— no, for entire epochs, being read, studied, and revered by countless people.

Hm? Why is the Young Master sitting there motionless?

Oh. He must have fallen asleep from exhaustion.

Alfred tiptoed over to the bedside, intending to help Karon get more comfortably settled in, but as Alfred suddenly froze in place.

He sensed an aura of piety and contemplation from his young master. He had witnessed this exact same aura not long ago, when his young master had been sitting on the manor’s front steps.

Alfred silently parted his lips. Though admiration for his young master already filled his heart, witnessing this moment still left him shocked.

The Young Master is... undergoing Divine Seeking again?

What is greatness? This is greatness!

He said he was tired, to the point that he could sleep even by the roadside. He merely wanted to write a little before bed, and just before putting down the pen and notebook—

He found the time to perform Divine Seeking again?

At that moment, the noise of the repairs in the master bedroom next door could still be heard. Outside, the commotion in the courtyard had not ceased. Alfred desperately wanted to shout and make the whole world quiet, but he could not.

“Ah...” What startled Alfred was that his young master had opened his eyes again and raised his pen once more.

Hm? Young Master’s Divine Seeking was quick this time.

Karon did not realize himself that he had entered the state of Divine Seeking. The reason he had clearly sensed it last time was not merely because of that black-and-white world he observed, but because he had harbored resistance and doubt toward the very concept of “god.” This time, he had simply been thinking on his own.

The pen tip descended onto the paper again. Karon first wrote a single line:

Why must we sit there eagerly, waiting for god to grant revelation?

If there is no god, or if god is busy, are we unable to obtain truth?

Grandpa once said that faith came first, and only then did the gods come into being.

Before the God of Light appeared, was there no light in the world?

Before the God of Order appeared, did order not exist?

Before the Mother of Earth appeared, did the earth not exist?

So—

Must truth only be that which the gods bestow and declare? Why can we not seek revelation ourselves and verify truth on our own?

For the final sentence that followed, Karon was no longer even aware that he was writing. Or rather, he was no longer aware of the act of writing. The writing had become merely an incidental movement, because he was entirely immersed in his own thoughts and conclusion.

But Alfred, standing beside the bed, clearly saw that the pen holding black ink that was in his young master’s hand had started producing golden letters.

Golden words read:

Truth is proven through practice alone.