“Praise Rilsaar!”

“Praise the Wall God!”

The future father-in-law and future son-in-law sat facing each other.

“Hah,” Bede sighed, his body visibly relaxing. Karon did the same, and he leaned back slightly.

Eunice approached with a tray that held two hot rolled towels. Using tongs, she handed one to her father and the other to Karon. Both men unfolded their towels with their fingers, shook them lightly to release a bit of heat, and then laid them over the backs of their hands.

Bede used his towel to dry his hair, while Karon pressed his to his face.

“Eunice,” Bede said. “Your grandfather and second uncle will come back soon. Prepare towels for them as well.”

“Yes, Father.”

After Eunice left, Bede hung his towel over the easel and stood. “Young Master Karon, I think it would be better if we spoke in the study.”

“Alright.” Karon also draped his towel over the easel, but it failed to catch and slipped down, smearing the center of the painting. It happened to divide the figures standing beneath the eaves from the distant performance hall, creating the impression of two separate worlds within the same painting.

Standing behind him, Bede admired the effect. “That is artistic inspiration.”

Karon smiled. “It was an accident.”

Bede shook his head. “Many artists draw inspiration from accidents. They’re simply reluctant to admit it, or no one believes them when they do.” 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

“I believe the words of an artist,” Karon said.

They went up to the third floor and entered the study.

“Should you sit there, or should I?” Karon asked, gesturing at the seat behind the desk.

“You, of course,” Bede replied, bowing slightly as he sat down in front of the desk.

Karon did not argue and took the seat behind the desk.

“So this is why you were never able to awaken your bloodline?” Karon asked.

Bede nodded. “Most likely.”

By nature, faith was exclusive. You could not believe in two different ones at the same time. Such were hobbies, not faith.

By choosing to believe in the Wall God Church, Bede had naturally lost the ability to activate his family bloodline or follow the Allen family faith system.

Even though the Wall God Church was small and wielded limited influence, and its god Rilsaar had been classified as a heretical god and suppressed by the God of Order during the previous epoch, none of that could erase the fact that it was still a church.

“You surprised me,” Karon commented. “You hid it very well.”

Not even Pu’er had noticed.

Then again, if she had known, she likely would not have gotten angry. She would likely have even been pleased to learn that an anomaly had emerged in an otherwise unremarkable lineage.

Unlike the remnants of the Church of Light, which were tacitly hunted by all major churches, the only group that was truly sensitive to the Wall God Church was the Church of Order.

After all, Rilsaar had been personally suppressed by the God of Order. The two churches were enemies, yet even at its peak, the Wall God Church had only been considered a small one. As a result, even the Church of Order lacked enthusiasm for eradicating the few remnants.

As long as Bede did not openly preach, no one would deliberately target him.

There was, however, a family problem. The Allen family’s black coral powder workshop supplied the Church of Order in York City. If Bede’s faith were exposed, it would affect the family’s business.

“When did you first come into contact with the Wall God Church?” Karon asked.

“When I was very young. I had an interest in painting from early on.”

Karon nodded. He recognized this kind of response. It was a preface people tended to use when they needed time to organize their thoughts. Often, to prepare to lie.

“My bloodline aptitude truly was never high,” Bede continued. “My elder brothers awakened very early, leaving me far behind, though I did sense something faint within myself.

“But you know how children are: competitive. Especially in families like ours. So even though I could sense the ancestral bloodline, I understood that my talent was inferior, and I lost interest in that path.

“Later, I found records of the Wall God Church in the family archive. I felt that this was what I wanted to pursue.

“At first, it was just an interest. I sought out mural painters, spoke with wandering artists, and tried to immerse myself in their circles. Eventually, I met a believer of the Wall God Church. He led me to their sanctum. There, I learned their doctrines and saw an illustration of the true god, Rilsaar.

“I was shaken by the doctrine, and captivated by Rilsaar. In the end, I willingly accepted the faith under that man’s guidance. If I had not done so, perhaps two or three years later, when I reached adulthood, I might have reached Tier-1.

“Though, it’s also possible that our ancestor would have sensed that my faith was impure and would never have chosen me in the first place.”

As he spoke, Bede looked up at the portrait of Allen on the wall behind Karon.

“It’s a bit ironic that you used to sit here,” Karon observed, tapping the desk lightly with his pen. The patriarch of a family believing in another god while sitting beneath his ancestor’s portrait.

Karon then added, “But if this scene were painted exactly as it was, without any embellishment, it would be beautiful.”

Bede closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring those words. True artists were lonely. Their greatest joy was encountering someone who shared their sense of beauty, creating a resonance that proved they were not truly alone in the dark.

“I have wanted to paint this scene many times,” Bede admitted. “You are right. It is beautiful. To outsiders, it would appear to be a simple depiction of the head of the family at work, but to those who know the truth, there would be a sense of silent irony.

“Out of respect for the ancestor, I restrained myself.”

“There is something I am curious about,” Karon said. “Please forgive my bluntness.”

“Go ahead.”

“Can you fight?”

“I regret to say that I excel at painting, not combat.”

“Anything else?” Karon asked. “More specifically.”

“Without your arrival,” Bede replied. “The family would still be facing pressure from the Raphael family. Whether I concealed my faith or not would not change that. If I revealed it, matters would only have worsened.

“My father and I agree on this: your arrival has brought hope to the Allen family, and after seeing that pool of holy water, we can hope for even more.”

Karon smiled.

“You don’t believe me?” Bede asked.

“I do,” Karon lied.

Bede nodded. “Who could watch their family fall into danger and remain unmoved? After all, I am an Allen.”

“Of course,” Karon said. “You are still the head of this family.”

Yet Karon was thinking of Linda’s letter, and of Piaget’s disheveled hair. For faith, Linda had abandoned her husband twice. You could not speak of human bonds with religious artists; They were madmen.

“How do you know of the Wall God Church?” Bede asked. “Or learn about me? Surely it couldn’t have been because of that unfinished painting.”

Karon pointed to his forehead. “Because I completed purification.”

Bede stared. “You saw it in that painting?”

“Yes.”

“Incredible,” Bede murmured. “Truly incredible. Worthy of Sir Tiz’s grandson.”

“I know of the Wall God Church because I have a friend in Roja City whose wife is a believer. Her name is Linda.”

“Linda?”

“You know her?”

“Yes. When I visited your grandfather in Roja City, I met two women. One became my wife, Jenny. The other... at that time, Linda was still a child, small enough to hold her mother’s hand.”

“Were you her guide?” Karon asked.

“No. I met her later at a secret gathering of the Wall God Church. Her parents took her. The entire family believed. One of her paintings impressed me deeply, and I spoke with her. She had a natural sensitivity for murals.”

“Did you stay in contact?”

“We met once years later, not in Swillen, but in Veyn. After taking over my family, I stopped attending those gatherings, out of fear of exposing myself, but I still attended exhibitions. At one, I saw her again.”

“I didn’t recognize her at first. Children change greatly, while men...” He touched his face, “...change less. She recognized me. We had coffee. She told me she was studying at an art academy. We avoided discussing faith.

“She had a boyfriend by then, a psychology major. They were engaged and planned to return to Swillen. We wished each other well and finished our coffee.”

“Do you want to know how she is now?” Karon asked.

“Not particularly,” Bede said. “But she should be happy. Her husband loves her, yes?”

“He does.”

“That is good. She deserves happiness.”

There was a knock at the door.

“That should be for me,” Bede said. “Father likely wants to store the holy water.”

“I am only doing what I should,” Karon replied.

Bede did not ask about how the profits would be distributed. Karon was now the true head of the Allen family.

Karon rang the bell, and Borg opened the door.

“Mr. Bede, the old master is calling for you.”

“I will be there shortly.” Bede bowed to Karon. “Thank you. You have brought hope to the Allen family. Artists may live poorly, but they do not enjoy it.

“Your arrival has allowed me to finally lay down my burdens and devote myself fully to the halls of art. Of course, should you ever need me, I will place myself at your disposal at any time, my respected Young Master Karon.” Bede turned and left the study.

Throughout their entire conversation, the man never once asked Karon to help conceal his secret. Bede understood perfectly well that such a request, much like the matter of how the profits from the pool of holy water would be distributed, did not need to be spoken aloud at all.

Karon remained in his seat, slowly twirling a fountain pen between his fingers.

He did not believe Bede’s words. Piaget had also once naively believed that Linda would never leave him. Moreover, the Immers family had a rule: doubts were never allowed to last overnight.

However, this was the Allen household.

Karon closed his eyes and slipped into thought and recollection.

***

“I told that demonkin of the method Old Hoffen helped me to refine, a grand divine descent ritual of the Church of Order. I also helped them with some preparations. They will fulfill their long-cherished wish, to summon a true heretical god. But they are destined to fail.

“That is because both their strength and realm are not enough. They are destined to be reduced to ash by the ritual. Most importantly, that demonkin does not have enough to offer as a sacrifice.”

“Then why would they...”

“Because of a dream. They know that they can’t really summon their ancestor, yet should they succeed, then before they and the altar vanish, they will be able to see their ancestor once and exchange a few words. That is what they want.”

...

“By the way, Grandpa, I know who the demonkin is, the one you mentioned who is helping us to clean things up.”

“Oh?”

***

The fountain pen slipped from Karon’s fingers, landing on the desk with a soft clack.

He slowly opened his eyes and muttered to himself, “So the reason he sent his wife and daughter to Roja City... was it truly just so he could attend an art exhibition?”

***

“Bede, see to these matters personally. Make sure everything is handled properly and with great care. You understand the value of that pool of holy water.”

“Yes, Father. I understand. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.”

“Mhmm.”

“Since it’s raining today, I think it would be better to wait until tomorrow before we start pumping and storing the water. If rainwater mixes in, it would lower the quality.”

“That’s true. You’ve thought this through well. Tomorrow, then. Mike, take some people to secure the performance hall.”

“Yes, Father.”

After finishing discussions with his father and brother, Bede headed straight for the castle’s basement.

Watching his son walk away, Master Anderson let out a helpless sigh. “He’s going to his studio again.”

Mike offered consolation. “It’s just his passion.”

“Fortunately, we have Young Master Karon now,” Master Anderson said, rubbing his forehead lightly. “I’m not as angry anymore. Forget it, let him be.”

***

Bede entered the basement. There were three underground chambers beneath the castle: a storage room, an old defensive bastion, and his personal art studio.

Click. He turned on the lights and stepped inside. There were numerous paintings strewn about, all draped with white cloth.

He walked straight past all of them, ignoring every one of his works, until he reached the studio’s farthest wall. Another large white cloth hung there.

Bede closed his eyes and lightly flicked his fingers. Smiling, he walked to the small wine cabinet in the corner. He poured himself a glass of red wine and took a deep drink before setting the glass down.

He then picked up a violin that rested nearby, tuned it briefly, and let the wine settle into his body, fermenting his mood.

The next moment, a flowing melody filled the basement.

As he played, Bede paced back and forth, performing for himself alone, acting both as performer and audience. The music shifted from gentle and lingering to lively, then from lively to soaring, until at last it erupted into a fervor capable of igniting fire in the human heart.

Snap. The final note fell. Bede bowed low to the wall, offering a performer’s closing salute. As he straightened, he reached up and pulled the white cloth off.

The fabric fell away, revealing a massive mural painted directly onto the wall.

In the painting, a man stood on the roof of a skyscraper, holding a box in his hands. A gentle smile was on his face as he looked up at a woman floating in the sky above. The woman wept as she stretched her hand towards the man.

Dark clouds filled the heavens, and within their depths loomed the silhouette of a towering giantess. In a lower corner of the mural, an altar had been painted.

Bede lifted his half-filled glass of red wine and slowly savored it as he gazed upon the mural.

It was Linda’s work.

Bede suddenly chuckled softly. “After all, how could a painter ever appear within his own painting?”