After Karon finished chanting, the chains that had appeared beneath his feet began to circle the pirate ship tombstone with intent. There were more chains than before and they were arranged with far greater precision.

When they had last met, Earl Rekar had told Karon that while the Church of Order had excellent awakening Arts, reviving a being of his power would require at least someone as powerful as Veyn’s Archbishop, and even, they would have to pay a tremendous cost.

That was one reason Rekar had addressed Karon with honorifics. It was also why he believed the Allen family was flourishing. Orthodox churches, especially the great ones, always looked down on family faith systems. The status of the Church of Order required no explanation. If even the Archbishop of York City from the Church of Order had become the family’s son-in-law, what better proof could there be of their prosperity?

Only when you are strong enough will those who consider themselves to be elites deign to associate with you.

From his previous conversation with Rekar, Karon had managed to glean many useful insights. He had long known that he possessed a peculiar ability to awaken corpses, and that ability had nothing to do with his rank. That was because he had awakened corpses even before undergoing purification.

If the Church of Order’s Awaken was a high-level transformation of power that used the Art as a medium to resonate with the corpse’s lingering spirituality, then Karon’s case was different. Because he had died and returned to life, he required no such medium. He could directly resonate with the residual spirituality within corpses.

An imperfect analogy would be considering a corpse to a cage with spirituality locked inside it. The Church of Order possesses the means to open the cage, but at immense cost. That was because each cage’s sturdiness varied greatly with the level of the corpse.

Karon, however, was not hindered by the cage. He could simply enter it. What he needed were sufficient torches and fuel to ignite the spirituality within. He can ignore the greatest cost, but that did not mean he could pay nothing at all.

Fortunately, he had undergone purification. As for the Divine Seeker rank, Karon was not certain if he qualified for that. He had rejected the divine revelation, and his purification had been so complete, his foundation prepared so firmly, that the distinction between Divine Seeker and Divine Servant had blurred.

There was one thing that was certain; Having proven that he could cast the Spear of Punishment, it was clear that he carried enough fuel to ignite what lay within far greater corpses than before.

Most importantly, Earl Rekar was arrogant and domineering. Last time, he had been the one to pull Karon in. To Karon’s understanding, Rekar was the kind who should be able to ignite easily.

This time would be no exception. Not long after Karon completed the invocation, the same pulling force emerged from beneath the tombstone, dragging every black chain that coiled around Karon into the depths below.

“Are we to... awaken fully... Archbishop?” Rekar’s voice echoed within Karon’s sea of consciousness, still addressing him as “Archbishop.” That meant their previous meeting had been recorded by the spirituality within the man’s corpse, preserved as a memory.

Karon took a deep breath and responded inwardly with resolve. “Yes.”

“Very... well...” The chains beneath Karon’s feet were drawn downward at an exaggerated speed. He felt like a silkworm being violently stripped of its silk.

Anxiety spiked in his heart. He truly feared that fully awakening Rekar would leave him completely drained, yet stopping at this time was impossible. He could only pray that his reserves would suffice.

Alfred, sustaining the attunement ritual array, felt the same fears. He was directly powering the ritual array, and he could sense the force within him being extracted frantically, transformed through the ritual array into something that bore a portion of his young master’s burden.

The golden retriever sat nearby, carefully observing everything while glancing from Karon to the tombstone below.

Mike continued to squeeze his wound, dripping blood onto the tomb. Karon could spare no attention to tell the man to stop, so Mike persisted.

The imminent awakening of their once-mighty ancestor was enough to set the blood of descendants ablaze. Even Bede’s eyes shone with excitement. He regretted not bringing his easel. He longed to paint this moment. His hands began moving unconsciously, as though he was already holding a brush and palette and standing before a blank canvas.

The sensation of having his brain siphoned away returned. Karon wavered, and nearly lost his balance.

At that moment, the chains beneath his feet stopped feeding into the tomb, and also shifted from black to red. A vague sense surfaced in his mind.

A threshold had been reached. The feeling was strange, and hard to articulate, yet distinct. It was as though he were grasping control.

Red indicated that the conditions for awakening Rekar had been met, but further infusion remained possible. Karon, however, had no strength left to continue.

He recalled how his grandfather had awakened Mr. Hoffen, and even provided the corpse additional power so that Mr. Hoffen could remain conscious for nearly three days. Though the man had still been doomed to ultimately perish, the quality of his awakening had been entirely different.

If the chains turning red marked a threshold, perhaps it would be possible to develop further stages; longer duration, greater strength, perhaps even breaking the time limit of an awakening or allowing a second infusion.

In the mythological accounts in Light of Order, it was said that the God of Order had awakened twelve powerful beings from death, known as the Twelve Knights of Order. However, murals depicted them as resembling death knights. Those twelve had served as blades in the God of Order’s campaigns.

What sustained their loyalty? Was it simply that only through the God of Order they could continue to exist?

Karon found himself contemplating this, comparing his own path with the descriptions in Light of Order.

A sharp crack interrupted his thoughts. A massive fissure split the pirate ship tombstone. The structure divided and collapsed to either side. Below lay the burial chamber.

The Allen family did not pursue opulence in burial. Each of their ancestors had a chamber below and a tombstone above. Such simplicity was the only reason that so many were laid to rest within the estate’s cemetery.

A heavy, rhythmic pounding echoed from below, as if someone were hammering upward with bare fists.

Imprints bulged outward. The ground trembled. The chamber had been built too well.

Karon suddenly realized that there were ritual arrays and special materials in this world. Even a modest family tomb might employ reinforced construction to prevent theft and decay.

Next time, he decided, he would absolutely not stand directly atop a sealed tomb while performing Awakening. It would be absurd if the summoned being revived only to remain trapped underground.

Rekar would not suffer such embarrassment. With a thunderous blast, a column of force erupted upward, shattering the ground. A hand emerged from the crack, then a figure climbed out.

Black vapor rose from his skin. The previously firm flesh was shriveled and darkened, having oxidized during the centuries sealed away. Karon was reminded of the Terracotta Army, once vividly colored upon excavation.

Next time, he thought dryly. Perhaps I should prepare anti-oxidation measures.

At last, the broad figure in pirate attire stood entirely above ground. Even in burial, Rekar had worn those same clothes.

His dark skin clung to his bones, taut. Death clung heavily to him. He opened his eyes. At first, they were pale and hollow. Then blue light gathered within. He surveyed the world.

Mike ceased pressing his wound and slid from his wheelchair to kneel. “Great Ancestor!”

He prostrated himself in reverence.

Rekar sniffed the air. A faint red trace lingered beneath his nose. He had absorbed some of Mike’s blood. Using the blood of a descendant had indeed served as a catalyst and had a positive effect.

Rekar opened his mouth, but only a rasp emerged. Soon his voice cleared. “A bit of trash from a branch family?”

He stepped forward and casually knocked Mike aside with a knee. Mike struggled back upright and bowed once more.

A side branch? To Rekar, only those who had reached high tier within the family faith system could be truly counted as kin. In his eyes, a Tier-3 descendant could only be a member of a side branch, brought forth to serve as a blood offering.

In truth, Mike was a direct descendant. Karon hesitated, but said nothing.

Rekar extended a hand. A gust swept past Karon’s ear, and Bede was seized. Rekar’s tongue extended and he licked Bede’s face. Karon suspected Rekar sensed the aura of the Wall God Church on the man.

Rekar studied Bede, blue eyes glowing. Then he burst into laughter. “The Allen family has begun infiltrating the churches?”

He released Bede. “Good. Very good! This is what a family at the peak of faith should look like. One day, we will grind those lofty churches beneath our feet.”

His gaze shifted to the golden retriever, and a vortex appeared beneath the dog’s paws. Kevin dog barked once, unafraid.

“This dog is unusual. There is something sealed within it, something even I find formidable.”

The vortex dissipated. “Excellent! Even a dog in this family is extraordinary.”

He turned to Alfred, immobilizing the demonkin with blue light. “I like your eyes, and I happen to need a pair.”

Mist formed hands in front of Alfred’s face, and fingers reached for his sockets.

Karon spoke, “Rekar, he is my servant.”

Rekar’s attention had never left Alfred. It was better for Karon to appear like this was normal than reveal himself as Divine Servant or Divine Seeker.

Rekar laughed. “I was merely joking.”

The restraint vanished, and Rekar turned and approached Karon. The awakened pirate carried the scent of rot.

Karon gestured toward the illuminated manor. “To welcome your return, Her Majesty the Queen awaits in the patriarch’s chamber.”

“The Queen?” Rekar asked.

“Gloria the Ninth.”

Rekar’s eyes softened. “So many years, and yet the Gloria royal house remains so thoughtful.”

“Your descendants prepared this gift for you.”

“How considerate.”

“Go, Rekar. I believe the young and beautiful queen lies upon the bed, awaiting the Pirate King’s favor.”

Rekar stepped forward, then paused. “Archbishop, would it be discourteous to go so directly?”

Karon smiled faintly. “When has a pirate concerned himself with decorum?”

Rekar nodded. “You are right.”

“Making the young queen wait would be discourteous.”

“Your words are wise, Archbishop.”

“Indulge yourself. When you are done, your clan will stand in formation for your inspection.”

“Then I shall go.” Mist enveloped Rekar’s body, and he rose up and shot straight for the manor’s third-floor bedroom. A long, brazen howl split the night, “I am coming, little darling of the House of Gloria!”