13 Mink Street

Chapter 69: Heretical God, It’s All Arranged!

In the study on the third floor of the Immers home, Karon kept his eyes on the candle. The blue flame wavered from time to time, despite the doors and windows all being shut. There was no wind that could slip in.

The sensation of being watched never left. At first it came from two corners of the study.

Yes, two gazes, Karon was certain of it. There were two gazes watching him.

At first, they merely examined him with a bit of curiosity, but then they had started to observe him in earnest. After that, they had fallen into some kind of contemplation. Their attention was gradually turning mild.

The oppressive tension from the start was steadily receding. The prickling discomfort of sitting on needles was gone. Karon’s posture shifted from rigidly upright to something chosen for comfort.

His back rested against the chair, his hands settled on the armrests, yet his gaze never left the flame. He had moved his legs, lifting one and crossing them.

The flame before him resembled a painting, and Karon watched it as though appreciating its continuous dance. At the same time, he understood clearly that the one watching the painting was also a painting in someone else’s eyes.

It was difficult to describe the atmosphere in precise words. It was not cold, nor sinister. There was a restrained subtlety, a faintly hesitant composure. It might leave you slightly at a loss, yet it also brought a kind of reassurance, a quiet steadiness.

The candle had already burned down by half. It did not feel too slow, because time was not dragging. There was also no wish that it would burn slower, because there was no need.

As the flame burned, there was no black, white, or yellow smoke. Instead, something else rose with the substance of the burning itself, and it was called acceptance.

***

Oak Cemetery.

Alfred was controlling his emotions, doing everything he could to regain command over his expression. In fact, if one analyzed his earlier reaction rationally, then at the moment Tiz had asked, “Are you disappointed,” Alfred’s best response, and his only response, would have been to praise Karon.

After all, any other response would have led to Tiz erasing him on the spot.

As soon as one was no longer “loyal” to his grandson, they lost any sort of necessity in Tiz’s eyes.

Even worse, to prevent the shame of being “deceived” to breed into hatred, the simplest, cleanest solution would be to deal with Alfred right away.

For family, Tiz would do anything. The name of Order was merely a rag in his hand, used to clean the dining table at home.

Fortunately, Alfred was an extremely rational person, and extreme rationality often was only a sheet of paper away from obsession.

Once that fire was lit, no one needed to add fuel; Alfred could display absolute subjective initiative. He was a mature fire that would pick up its own firewood, split it, and feed itself.

He already believed his choice to be correct, and in the future, it would only become more correct.

What had begun as opportunism had been elevated to worship, and from worship, condensed into faith.

So, after receiving Alfred’s response, Tiz no longer looked at him.

“The Church of Principle didn’t take my corpse. You watched over it?” Mr. Hoffen asked Tiz.

“Your corpse has little value,” Tiz answered bluntly. “Someone like you, an academic, only has value while alive. Still, yes, I made arrangements. Otherwise your body would not be here now. It has no value to us, but to the church, it could at least count as an extra, better than nothing.”

“That’s why I thought it was interesting.” Mr. Hoffen, since climbing out of the grave, was behaving in a noticeably more unrestrained manner than he had been while alive. “Not long after learning I had a severe illness and little time left, I went with you, going mad that once to perform a grand divine-descent ritual. After dying, I can climb out again and complete a ritual to seal a heretical god.

“Tiz, you really make it so that even dying is exciting.” Mr. Hoffen grew so excited that he raised both of his arms and started to dance, though his facial skin was sagging so badly that, in the night rain, he looked unnervingly grotesque.

Even so, he enjoyed it. Someone who had died once had already let go of what needed to be let go. The man was pure.

Tiz simply stood there, watching as an old friend who had observed doctrine with strict rigor for his entire lifetime finally cast off all restraint.

Alfred, having finally regained control of his expression and some measure of calm, saw what Mr. Hoffen was doing, and lifted his right fist to his mouth while flicking his left hand lightly.

“Three, two, one, start.” A rhythmic sequence spilled from Alfred’s mouth. From the very first beat, the sound aligned seamlessly with Mr. Hoffen’s swaying, as though the song had been composed expressly for him.

Alfred had always possessed a natural advantage when it came to sound. His beatboxing carried a strong rhythm and a metallic edge. It sounded like a full-sized loudspeaker had been set down in the rain, blasting music into the night.

“Yo, yo, yo.” Mr. Hoffen raised a finger and pointed at Alfred. He was thoroughly satisfied with this demonkin, and even gave a thumbs up in approval, praising Alfred’s thoughtfulness.

It was worth noting that, before his death, Mr. Hoffen had been shouting for Tiz to kill his own grandson, yet at this moment, he was freely mingling with a demonkin, showing not even the slightest hint of separation.

The rain continued to fall, steady and unbroken. The atmosphere was unexpectedly harmonious. Alfred’s rhythm, Mr. Hoffen’s dancing, and the pouring rain layered on top of each other in a scene that possessed an unmistakable texture.

The sole member of the audience was Tiz, and that was enough, because it was Tiz watching.

Only at the end did Mr. Hoffen suddenly call out, “Tiz, I’ve been dancing for so long, so why don’t I feel tired?”

Tiz calmly replied, “You can dance until your body falls apart, but you will never be able to dance until you’re tired.”

“Hm?” Mr. Hoffen quickly motioned for Alfred to stop the “music.” He then cleaned the rain off his face with both hands, looking somewhat embarrassed. “Sorry, sorry. It’s my first time being dead; no experience at all.”

Tiz had awakened the man so that he could help seal the heretical god. If he danced himself into a pile of scattered parts here, it would be extremely awkward.

Mr. Hoffen simply sat down, not caring about the mud. He had already been filthy from the moment he had climbed out of the ground.

“Tiz, we can start preparing now. You arrange however we should do it. You know what I’m good at, don’t you?”

Tiz nodded and sat down as well. They were joined by Alfred. I can actually listen to a plan to seal a heretical god from so close.

If being added to a mural was a beautiful wish for the future, then at this moment, Alfred felt that he was experiencing the certainty that what would follow would be placed on such a mural: it was the discussion of the fate of a heretical god.

Heavens. Only people on murals might gather at a table like this.

“I already mentioned that its state of existence is odd. That is because the divine descent ritual was only half completed,” Tiz said. “If it had entered Karon’s body, or if it had taken over a body it had made itself with a high degree of compatibility, its state of existence would change accordingly.”

Mr. Hoffen added, “Just like mist becoming water droplets, which can then be conveniently held in a container.”

Alfred nodded.

“I tried releasing soulfire, but I could not destroy it. Instead, in order to hold up the soulfire, my own arm was burned,” Tiz said. “So the first step of the plan is to make it voluntarily break out of its current state.”

Mr. Hoffen wanted to stroke his chin, but the old skin was drooping far beneath his chin. Instead, he ended up stroking that dangling skin as he spoke, “To fish, you need bait.”

Alfred nodded.

“The bait is already prepared,” Tiz said. “It can no longer modify a second body. It no longer has that capability. I do not know if there is a limit on how long it can exist, and I cannot be sure whether, with the passage of time, it will gradually head toward extinction, like a soul form that has lost its anchor, but it already knows that I am at Karon’s side, and yet it still dares to circle him. Because it can see my true realm, even a heretical god would retreat. That leaves it only one choice: Karon’s body.”

Even a heretical god would retreat after recognizing Tiz’s true strength.

“So Karon is the bait,” Mr. Hoffen observed, not surprised in the slightest. “But if it knows the fisherman is holding the rod. Will it dare bite?”

Alfred nodded.

“So the fisherman needs to leave the rod,” Tiz said.

“You need a fitting reason,” Mr. Hoffen warned. “A reason convincing enough for that heretical god to believe you truly have no choice but to leave.”

As he said this, Mr. Hoffen reached up and tugged at his eyelids. He looked over at Alfred, who was sitting nearby nodding along. “Hey, come over and hold my eyelids up for me. They’re drooping.”

“Alright.” Alfred immediately stood and squatted behind Mr. Hoffen, using two fingers to pull the old man’s eyelids up so he could keep his eyes wide open.

In any case, he would not feel any pain even if he didn’t blink. As for whether doing this would harm his eyeballs or affect his vision, Mr. Hoffen had less than three days of existence left, so why care about potential nearsightedness or presbyopia?

“Good. Pull a bit more to the side, give it bit of an arc.”

“Okay. Like this?”

“Mmm. Not bad. That works.” Mr. Hoffen looked at Tiz with slanted, sinister-looking eyes as he continued, “So you’ve already prepared that reason, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Tiz replied. “Rasma has already come out to see me once.”

“Oh, heavens. That’s not easy, as that takes tremendous courage on his part, but Rasma alone isn’t enough.”

“There are also three elders from the Order Temple. Their consciousness projections have already arrived in Roja City.”

“Hoo.” Mr. Hoffen exhaled. “Three of the Order Temple’s elders? My god, what a show. Then there should also be other clergy from the Temple of Order. Even if they’re only here to make up the numbers, it will be an exaggerated scene.”

“The courier currently delivering meaningless official documents back and forth to the Regional Administrative Office is a squad leader from Order’s Whip,” Tiz continued.

“Heheh, hahahaha.” Mr. Hoffen could not help laughing. “Then there must already be a large number of clergy from the Church of Order from every level rushing here from other countries. They might not have all entered Roja City yet, but when the time comes, they’ll immediately enter.

“Also, with a mobilization on this scale, the other major orthodox churches are certainly paying attention. It won’t be possible to completely avoid their notice.

“So, I can even make a bold guess that there might even be one or two projected consciousnesses of elders from the core of other major churches already waiting outside Roja City. They’re simply hiding for now.”

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Tiz’s mouth. “There absolutely are.”

“Hm?”

“Because once I take that step and fully release my realm, because I am a believer of the Church of Order and because I walk the faith system of the God of Order, I will automatically condense a portion of the God of Order’s divinity. It will be extremely small, to the point that it can only be considered a fragment, but even that will already be enough to make the other orthodox major churches unable to sit still. If they can obtain that godhead fragment, they could even develop a new system of Order within their own church.”

“In the past, they never had such opportunity,” Mr. Hoffen agreed with a smile. “To begin with, those who are able to take that step are powerful and difficult to kill, so taking it from them is out of the question. Additionally, every existence at that level must have long since become a true core personnel of their respective church, cultivated and protected as a priority. Before taking that step, perhaps ten or twenty years before, they would have already chosen to enter seclusion deep within the church.

“But you are different, Tiz. You deceived many people, and that has allowed you to continue holding the office of Inquisitor here in Roja City for all these years. Even someone like Rasma, who knows that you are not what you appear to be and that you are hiding something, would never dare believe that you have already reached that step.

“An elder-level figure about to condense a godhead fragment, yet who has remained isolated outside of the core system of the Church of Order for so many years, and has even become opposition with the Order Temple? Heavens! This is a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity. They won’t be able to sit still. They absolutely won’t be able to sit still, because one more faith system is like giving their own church one more life to continue. So...” Mr. Hoffen suddenly lowered his voice, leaned forward, and asked, “So how did they find out?”

Given Tiz’s existence and his current special nature, the Church of Order would have spared no cost to seal this information. This was an internal fracture, not to mention a fissure at the very highest level.

A smile appeared at the corner of Tiz’s mouth. “I released the news.”

“Hahahaha...” Mr. Hoffen burst into laughter.

As he laughed, his jaw dislocated. “Mmm... mmm...”

Alfred reached out to support Mr. Hoffen’s jaw, and Tiz reached out and gave it a light tap. With a crack, the jaw snapped back into place. “Tiz, I feel like a block man right now.”

“There’s no need to get used to it. In a few days you’ll be gone anyway,” Tiz said, as comfort.

Mr. Hoffen nodded. “Your comfort is always so heartwarming.”

He then tilted his head slightly to press his cheek against his shoulder, preventing his jaw from dislocating a second time. Only then did he continue, “The Church of Order must be suffering terribly right now. If they move against you, even if you submit or kill yourself, it will be a massive loss to the Church of Order.

“But you won’t submit. That’s not your style, Tiz. Once you abandon all pretense and openly oppose them, just dealing with you will demand a heavy price, one that will only grow higher.

“But if they do not deal with you, and they allow an elder-level apostate who has condensed a godhead fragment to remain outside of the church. No matter if you build your own religion, join another, or are actually hunted down and killed by another, it will deal a heavy blow to the foundations of the Church of Order.

“Tiz, you truly are a devout believer of the God of Order.”

Tiz replied, “I still firmly believe that even after I cursed the God of Order as a whore’s bastard, the fragment of the God of Order’s divinity will still form within me. That is the God of Order’s own recognition that I am his most loyal believer.”

Mr. Hoffen laughed again, Alfred supporting his jaw in advance. “This opportunity is enough. Tiz, I believe that heretical god is also waiting for this moment. A heretical god’s wisdom is beyond question. It is waiting, waiting for the moment you can no longer control your realm and are forced to step into the vortex of chaos as that godhead fragment condenses. At that time, you will have no leisure to let your attention wander elsewhere, and Karon will lose your protection. It can then attempt to reclaim the body it improved.

“Oh, I actually feel a bit of sympathy for that heretical god. It’s pitiful. It built a house, only for someone else to move in, forcing it out to live out in the wind and rain, staring at its house with resentful eyes.”

“That is why, a few months ago, when Karon told me he wanted to go to school and pursue further study at a university abroad, I refused.”

...

"I won’t feel at peace if you go."

"But Grandpa... I'm grown. In Roja City, fifteen is already considered adulthood."

Tiz watched him. "To me, you’re still a child. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless... I am dead.

Because that heretical god knows clearly that as long as you remain in Roja City, it cannot act against you, because I will immediately appear at your side.

...

“You really broke your heart over this grandson,” Mr. Hoffen said. “But I understand. Before I died, he called me ‘grandpa’ once. I was so happy I nearly burst. So what if he’s a heretical god? He’s a sweet-tongued heretical god, a heretical god who called me grandpa. If I treat him like my grandson, so what? If I say it out loud, how much face does it give me? This life was worth it.”

“He called you grandpa at your burial as well,” Tiz said.

“Hm? Really? Sigh, what a good child.”

“Turn around and look at the inscription on your gravestone,” Tiz reminded him.

Mr. Hoffen immediately turned and looked below his gravestone. “‘Everyone is like a spider, weaving a web through their life. Whether in hope or in fear, sooner or later, without warning, your web will become entangled with someone else’s. That interconnected web can be vast, so vast it gives the illusion that you can go anywhere you please; Yet it can also be very small, so small that a single gust of wind can scatter what you once believed to be immense.’”

Mr. Hoffen drew in a deep breath and cursed, “I can’t cry now, but this child is truly too likable. He is mourning me, thinking of me. He treats me as a relative worth cherishing and looking back on in the journey of his life.

“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Tiz, I want to seal that heretical god, pack it up, and give it to my sweet and sensible grandson. Oh, heavens, Grandpa loves you, my little Karon.”

Alfred sighed inwardly beside them. So this is a heretical god’s, no, this is the charm of the Great One. I’m the same as Mr. Hoffen. I, too, have been deeply drawn in by the charm of the Great One, and I’m willing to offer everything to him.

“Tiz, come, let’s continue. The bait is ready. It will bite. It will definitely bite, so what about the container? Where are we sealing that heretical god, sir? It must be easy to carry, easy to conceal, and able to be used at any time. We can’t seal it into a cellar; What would be the point?”

Tiz raised a hand. A leash flew into his palm. He gave a light pull forward, pulling the golden retriever in front of the three of them. He blandly stated, “Let that heretical god become a dog.”