“Your body is fine, Young Master. Very healthy.” After finishing Karon’s examination, Lady Lisa smiled as she gave her report.

“Thank you, madam.”

“You are too kind, Young Master.”

Karon turned to look at Mike, who sat beside his wife in a wheelchair, having accompanied her for the examination. “Mr. Mike, please stay for a moment. I have something to discuss with you.”

Mike was slightly surprised, but still nodded. “Of course, Young Master.”

Ms. Lisa glanced at her husband, then took her leave, closing the study door behind her.

Karon looked over at Alfred, where he was seated at the secretary desk, the black cat lay sprawled across the tabletop, and the golden retriever lying by a leg of the table. Then, Karon smiled. “I told you. There’s nothing wrong.”

Since beginning his Arts training, and especially after successfully using the Spear of Punishment, Karon had spent the entire morning every day for a full week practicing on the manor’s open grounds.

Everything else was secondary. Only the Spear of Punishment was non-negotiable. He cast it once every day. Each time left him with a headache and a nosebleed, but he persisted. Yesterday, while the pain had still been there, the nosebleed had stopped. That alone counted as major progress.

Karon’s own understanding was that his internal reserves were vast and well stocked, but the channel through which he could draw on those reserves remained extremely narrow. When power was demanded too quickly, that narrow channel suffered tremendous strain.

The pain without loss of consciousness likely came from that imbalance. His foundation was solid, but his rank was too low. It was an absurd problem, though a fortunate one.

Pu’er and Alfred had both urged him not to rush, but Karon insisted on his choice. Judia’s appearance that day had left too deep a mark. The memory of being utterly powerless, without the slightest capacity to resist, still stirred a mixture of panic and rage.

Trying to engage her on equal terms by treating her like a psychiatric patient, balancing each exchange as if walking a wire, brought no sense of accomplishment, only exhaustion.

If he had been able to use the Spear of Punishment at that time, how much better would it have been? Even if it was not enough to kill Judia, it could have at least blown her away.

Still, to put everyone at ease, Karon had asked Ms. Lisa over today to conduct a full examination. She was medically trained, and due to her family faith system, was also able to perceive abnormalities. Her assessment carried weight.

Alfred let out a long breath, relief showing on his face.

The golden retriever wagged its tail cheerfully. The claw marks on its face had not yet completely faded. That fight had been well justified; Leaving out the word “Basic” in its notes had earned the dog a thorough beating from Pu’er.

The cat lay with her head resting on the desk, idly playing with a pen cap between her paws, looking rather helpless.

A body altered by a heretical god, the sole heir of the Immers bloodline, a purification completed by the God of Order, as well as Tiz’s grandson. With all of those qualifications combined, releasing an attack Art of such magnitude while still just a Divine Servant almost made sense.

Still, Pu’er’s attitude towards Karon’s progress remained unchanged. He could afford to grow steadily and cautiously. His potential was high, and she did not want him gambling with his life.

It was, perhaps, an elder’s instinct.

“Mr. Mike,” Karon said as he stepped away from the desk and approached the man.

“Yes, Young Master.”

“I intend to resolve your physical condition now.”

“Truly?” Mike asked, his voice trembling with excitement.

Karon had mentioned this idea before, saying that the treatment method came from Tiz. Mike had been waiting ever since.

After Karon completed his purification, Mike had struggled on a daily basis to suppress the urge to remind him. The daily explosions echoing across the manor grounds had only worsened it.

He knew Karon was training. Mike had even gone with his father and brother to observe.

His father had wept openly. If a Divine Servant could unleash power like that, then once Karon matured, the Allen family would no longer fear the Raphael family.

Mike had felt a quieter joy of his own. The more extraordinary Karon proved himself to be, the more confidence Mike had in his own treatment. People trusted what exceeded their understanding.

“Yes, but I will need your cooperation.”

“No problem at all, Young Master. Please proceed without concern for me.” Mike understood this was not a matter of medicine. The two clashing elements within him would bring immense pain when separated, but he welcomed it. He did not want to remain a burden to the family.

“Alfred.”

“Yes, Young Master.” Alfred rose and stepped before Mike, extending his arms. “Sir, I will lift you onto the desk.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Karon took his water and moved to the window, gazing outside. The view was no longer as open as before. Under his orders, iron security bars had been installed on both the study and bedroom windows.

Master Anderson had explained that ancestral defensive arrays protected both locations, but Karon insisted. If Judia wanted to climb in again, she could try cutting steel first.

There were also two pistols resting in the drawers beneath his desk.

Behind him, Alfred’s voice continued calmly, “Sir, I will remove your clothing.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

“These are disposable undergarments. I will help you put them on.”

“...Thank you. Truly.”

“Sir, your chest hair is rather thick. I will prepare the area. You do not mind?” 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

“...No. Of course not.”

“Young Master, the preparations are complete.”

“Good.”

Karon turned back to see Mike lying on the desk, his chest clean.

The shaving was not strictly necessary, as Karon’s fingers would be guiding the process. Still, the contact felt steadier without hair.

Karon glanced at Alfred cleaning a razor. The man continued his work without acknowledging the approving look.

“Is anything else required, Young Master?” Mike asked.

Karon pressed the desk bell. Borg entered and came to the desk.

“Mr. Mike, there is something unfortunate you must know. You cannot continue to maintain both water and fire. One attribute must be removed. I recommend extracting fire, as the odds are better.”

“Then fire it is,” Mike agreed without hesitation. “My brother walks the path of fire, so I will fully commit to water. Thank you, Young Master.”

Karon nodded and snapped his fingers at Borg. The extracted fire energy would not be wasted, but transferred into him.

Borg removed his clothes, revealing that he had already put on disposable undergarments. Alfred glanced over, prompting a sheepish smile from the young man.

“Prepare yourselves. We begin.” Karon placed the fingers of his left hand against Mike’s chest. The sensation was firm and clear.

He closed his eyes. His fingers began to move across Mike’s chest at a steady pace. “Mike, circulate your faith system.”

“Yes.”

Red and blue light gradually surfaced across Mike’s body, tangled and chaotic. Pain etched itself onto his face. Alfred offered the man a pen to bite down on, but Mike shook his head and clenched his jaw.

Karon continued tracing the memorized circulation pattern provided by Pu’er. He applied no external force. His fingers merely guided Mike’s own internal movement. Anyone could perform these motions. The difficulty lay in knowing when to proceed.

It was like acupuncture. Inserting the needle was simple, but knowing where and how deep was not.

Pu’er had solved the hardest part, and everything else just followed.

At last, the red and blue separated into distinct masses. They still resisted each other, but were no longer fused.

Borg had already completed his own circulation. His red glow was paler than Mike’s. The difference in rank was clear. This was also why Karon had advised Mike to relinquish fire; Borg was officially Tier-1, fire attribute.

“Borg. Place your hand.”

“Yes, Young Master.” Borg stepped forward and placed his palm on Mike’s chest.

The two circulation patterns reacted instantly, like paired ritual arrays. Mike’s red energy surged into Borg. Karon withdrew his hand and stepped back.

Flames erupted from both men. Mike’s hair ignited. So did Borg’s. Their disposable undergarments burned next. Their purpose was modesty and safety. They burned quickly, leaving no lasting harm.

Mike’s expression eased into calm, while Borg’s shifted from calm to pain, but he endured in silence, breathing hard through his nose.

Karon observed Borg; a boy raised in a brothel, who had seized his chance to enter the Allen family. He was sharp-eyed, decisive, and opportunistic.

On any stage, he would be cast as the protagonist. The night before, Karon had joked about that with Pu’er as they lay awake. She had laughed softly and asked, “Then what about you, Young Master?”

“Ah!” Two cries rang out as the transfer completed. Mike’s eyes flooded with pure blue. A mist formed around him, condensing into armor. He stepped down from the desk. The armor supported him like newly formed legs, though the state would not last.

He dropped to his knees before Karon. “Thank you, Young Master. You have given me a new life!”

Borg’s skin flushed deep red, then faded back to normal. A flicker of flame flashed in his right eye. Tier-2.

He knelt as well, striking his chest once with his fist.

“You may dress first,” Karon calmly stated.

“Young Master, I’m truly grateful. Truly.” Master Anderson spoke from where he stood behind Karon, wiping his tears away.

Karon believed that for all the old man’s talent for performance, this emotion was genuine.

“This is what I should do,” he stated evenly.

“No. This is a debt of grace to the Allen family. From now on, the Allen family will be your hooves, your falcon, and will follow your direction. Your will is the Allen family’s path.”

“You’re overstating things.”

If he let go and walked away right now, Allen Manor would probably be gone before long.

Still, Pu’er was absolutely right about one thing; When it came to gathering materials and running errands, the support of a family was vital.

Karon had not expected that once he began studying ritual arrays, he would find that even a basic one required a complicated list of materials.

Karon and Master Anderson arrived at the manor’s entrance. In the distance, the performance hall had been converted into an enormous mourning chamber. It would host Prince Henry’s funeral in three days.

It had indeed proven impossible to find any additional pieces of Prince Henry’s body, so a new body had been crafted for him out of silver. When the time came, it just needed to be dressed and the head left exposed.

If Aunt Mary were here, she would have loved having such an easy job.

At that moment, Karon saw a group of people in royal court dress arguing with Allen workers over by the performance hall, while a middle-aged man in official uniform was speaking loudly to Bede.

“What’s going on?” Karon asked.

Master Anderson replied, “Young Master, we prepared everything according to your design requirements and procedures, but the palace affairs officer believes certain parts violate royal protocol and has been demanding revisions.”

“Then tell them that if they want to hold the funeral here, they will follow our rules. Otherwise, they can take the prince’s head back to the palace and hold it there.

“Don’t worry. In the end the palace will back down.” That was because the old queen still wanted to be housed in Allen Hall on the night of the funeral.

Master Anderson froze for a moment, then quickly nodded. “Yes. I’ll go speak to him myself.”

Karon simply sat down on the steps and watched as the old man went to reprimand the palace affairs officer. After that, he drove out the entire group of palace ritual officials the palace affairs officer had brought as well.

Alfred and Borg stood behind Karon. The wind outside was strong, especially at the manor’s entrance, where the draft cut straight through. Karon quietly pulled his collar higher.

His gaze settled on the performance hall as preparations resumed. He watched as groups of maids carried the necessary items into place. He watched the male servants repair the path from the manor entrance to the hall.

Behind him, Karon could hear the sounds of the manor’s ongoing deep cleaning.

In truth, many of his arrangements did not match the etiquette of Veyn nobility, let alone Veyn royalty. The Immers funeral home in Roja City was only a mid-tier establishment. If he forced the templates followed in that place onto this funeral, there would naturally be mismatches everywhere.

But Karon still wanted to be willful once.

One reason was that he knew the queen would agree no matter what. Another was that he suspected he was simply missing home.

His aunt in the basement, humming as she rejoiced in a job that paid well and demanded little.

His uncle rushing about up front, organizing the setup.

Ron slacking and dozing.

Aunt Winnie comparing the endless list of guests who would attend.

Mina, Lent, Clarice, and the others serving as attendants, preparing drinks.

The third-floor study upstairs...

Without thinking, Karon lifted his head, then slowly lowered it again. Grandpa’s still asleep.

“Cough, cough...” Karon began to cough. He reflexively covered his mouth with his hand. Alfred stepped forward and draped a coat over his shoulders.

At that moment, Ms. Jenny and Eunice walked over from the performance hall. Seeing Karon seated on the steps by the entrance, Ms. Jenny smiled at him. “Young Master, this funeral arrangement really suits our Swillen customs.”

Ms. Jenny was a native of Roja City, and could easily tell where many of the details Karon had requested came from. “The palace affairs officer saw it too. He kept saying things don’t conform to tradition, but Father drove him off.”

As she spoke, Ms. Jenny could not resist adding a little private satisfaction, “Veyn people have always looked down on our Swillen customs and habits. They always think we Swillen are country bumpkins.”

Clearly, after marrying into the Allen family, Ms. Jenny had suffered plenty of such regional contempt while in noble circles.

Karon smiled. “Since the funeral is being designed by me, a Swillen, of course it should follow our rules—”

As he said that, Karon suddenly froze, because a low, unfamiliar voice suddenly sounded in his mind.

It felt very distant, and yet also very, very close. It was as though someone were calling to him from the far side of the forest, yet also as though that voice were right by his ear, speaking softly.

It was a murmur from the divine, ”Order is what I decree, and what you must obey.”