13 Mink Street

Karon knew that for some time now, Saman had been discussing the details of his funeral with Alfred. The old man took the matter very seriously. It was likely that few relatives or friends would come to mourn him, but this was the one funeral that Karon intended to attend in person.

What Alfred had told Karon was this: when the funeral was held, Saman would not yet be dead. He would lie in his coffin, alive and his eyes open, personally witnessing as the mourners paid their respects.

When the time came for his burial, he would stand before his own gravestone, deliver his own eulogy, and then return to the coffin, ending his life there.

Karon had once tried to persuade the old man to not die, but while visibly moved, Saman had still refused. From his point of view, he could not accept the Church of Pamireth losing itself and being absorbed into another faith. As he had put it, he had no power to stop the passage of time, but he could at least stop the pendulum of his own clock.

This was Saman’s martyrdom for the god Pamireth, and for his faith.

Originally, Karon had believed that the treaty guaranteeing Pamireth’s independence might persuade the old man to abandon thoughts of death and continue living out his days in the cemetery he loved, which was why he had never told Saman about the Divine Progeny’s identity.

Yet Delius had come in person. As the Divine Progeny of the Church of Pamireth, it was only natural that he knew an elder of his own church lived in this cemetery in York City.

Saman had secluded himself from the world, but unlike Karon, he had never gone so far as to commission the Voss family to make him a mask to wear. If he had, the captain would not have been dropping by the cemetery so often to “visit” the old man.

At the same time, Delius could not openly reveal his own status. His identity was the kind of secret that circulated only within a small inner circle.

Yet Saman recognized Delius’s father: Bishop Byrne.

While the other bishops of the York City region, the grandfathers of Leon and Larry among them, had remained in the dark about the war, Bishop Byrne had already been involved in advancing and arranging the plan. That alone showed his true standing far exceeded what appeared on the surface.

Karon had never thought Delius particularly resembled Bishop Byrne, but for an old man skilled in forging spatial holy relics, his eyes might see a different world than the one seen by ordinary people.

At that moment, Saman finally understood that his Church of Pamireth had, in truth, died long ago.

“I think anything can be discussed if people sit down and talk things through—” A low hum cut Delius off. Saman’s hand shot out, seizing the young man by his throat, and then lifting him bodily into the air.

The members of Gendi’s squad rushed to surround the two, but right as they moved to intervene, blue arms thrust up from beneath the ground. Each one grabbed a part of someone’s body, and then hoisted the squad members into the air as well. Blue light glowed in Saman’s eyes. Within this cemetery, he was the administrator.

“Some things can be discussed, but some things are not worth discussing. Some are not even worth sitting down for.”

Delius did not shout, Do you know what will happen if you kill me?

Instead, with complete sincerity, he said, “I believe in Pamireth.”

“Heh...” Saman scoffed.

He released Delius’s throat, but at the same moment, a pair of hands emerged beneath Delius’s feet, seized him, and violently yanked downward. With a heavy thud, the man was dragged to his knees. Then, his forehead was smashed directly against a stone step.

Blood immediately ran down from his brow, and a corner of the step was broken away.

Gendi, who had been thrown back earlier, charged forward, his blade drawn. Delius was currently under his protection, so even if Gendi knew how terrifying the old man before him was, he still had to move forward.

Karon stepped in front of the captain. “Call your men back!”

Gendi recognized Karon, having seen him beside Nio before. But at a time like this...

“If you insist on forcing him to kill someone, and forcing all your men to die here with him, keep attacking.”

Gendi’s internal struggle could be seen as emotions flashed across his face. In the end, he lowered his blade and issued a defensive order. His squad members either hacked free of the blue hands or tore themselves loose by force, then retreated and formed a wide perimeter.

Karon turned and walked back to Saman. At the old man’s feet, Delius was still kneeling, and blood still flowed from his forehead. His body swayed slightly, but he was at least alive.

“Let them go,” Karon said.

Saman turned to look at him. His expression was dark and grim, looking nothing like the lovable old man who once fought with Karon over macaroni. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”

Karon could have denied it. He was only an ordinary member of a security detail. It was perfectly reasonable for him to not know, but with everything that had just been dragged into the open, he had no interest in lying. “Yes, I knew long ago. And just now, I deliberately chose not to tell you.”

Saman stepped closer.

Alfred had already appeared behind Saman. If Karon had not signaled for him to stay still, Alfred might already have attacked. He knew that Saman would probably not kill anyone, but rage could do strange things to a person. If the old man decided to grant Alfred’s young master the same kneeling treatment he had provided the Divine Progeny, it would be an entirely different matter.

“I don’t need your pity! I don’t need your sympathy! Everything you did was unnecessary, and it disgusts me!” Saman nearly roared the words straight into Karon’s face. Karon could feel the spittle striking his skin.

He closed his eyes and drew a breath. When he opened them again, he raised his own voice, “Then what, exactly, did you want me to say? That you should ignore all the good news outside, because this treaty that looks like it preserves Pamireth’s autonomy is only polished on the surface while fully rotten underneath? That you should stop dreaming, stop hoping, hurry up and kill yourself so I can lay you in a coffin and prepare your funeral? I know you’re emotional, but take it out on him, not on me.

“Fine! At worst, go die, but believe this: if you truly anger me, after you’re dead I’ll arrange a Church of Order themed funeral for you.”

Saman fell silent. After being shouted at in such a manner, he actually drew his neck back a bit. His momentum collapsed immediately.

Older people were frequently like that. Their temper might rise in an instant, only to vanish just as quickly. More importantly, Saman genuinely believed this young man in front of him would do exactly what he threatened.

“I’m not blaming you...” His voice dropped. “Sigh. I shouldn’t blame you.”

Saman lifted his head, smacked his lips once, then walked over to Delius and kicked him. The blow sent the young man flying. He rolled across the ground before several squad members rushed over to help him up and treat his wounds.

Hunching over once more, Saman silently returned to his house.

Karon accepted the handkerchief Alfred offered and wiped his face clean.

Gendi walked over, looking miserable. The person he had just assumed protection of had arrived under his watch, only to end up in such a state. Not only would his eliminate the mission reward, punishment was also quite probable.

Karon understood exactly what he was thinking. “Take the Divine Progeny and your men back to the hotel. Dress his injury so that it looks natural. He won’t report this upward. In fact, he’ll probably help you to cover it up on his own. You’ll be fine.”

“But the wound on his forehead won’t fully heal in the short term, not even with Arts. He still has events to attend.”

“He’ll say he tripped and fell. If he smooths things over himself, the higher-ups won’t bother digging into this just to punish you.”

“Are you sure he’ll do that?”

“He will.”

“That’s good. Good... Ah, do you know that old man?”

“Yes. The captain and I come here often for late-night food.”

“I see.” Anything involving Nio made Gendi easy to deal with. The man practically worshipped Karon’s captain. “Then I’ll go first. You’ll be all right here alone?”

“I don’t need you worrying about me.”

“Right. Understood.” Gendi ordered his men to escort Delius away, yet even injured, the Divine Progeny pushed people aside and stubbornly returned to kneel on the steps. Blood already covered his face, yet only devotion filled his eyes.

Karon could not tell if Delius was truly loyal to the Church of Pamireth and wanted to prove his sincerity to Saman...

Or whether he simply hoped to secure an inheritance this way.

Karon could hardly blame himself for thinking of such a possibility. According to his original understanding, Saman had no heirs. Whoever handled his affairs after his death would naturally receive whatever was left behind. Delius’s arrival felt like a distant nephew suddenly appearing at the bedside of a dying, childless man.

Still, Karon was not the space worm in the man’s belly. There was no way for him to know Delius’s true thoughts.

He bent down and said quietly, “Sir, you should return to the hotel and treat that wound first. If you hadn’t come today, he would probably have gone on living and working here. Now that you have come, he truly intends to die.”

Delius looked at him. “Have you known him for a long time?”

“Yes. You know what people of the Church of Order are like; We enjoy opening funeral homes. A funeral director knowing the keeper of a cemetery is perfectly normal.”

“Please tell him for me that my loyalty to the God of Pamireth is genuine.”

“He doesn’t care about that. Stop pushing him. If you keep kneeling there, he really will beat someone again. He isn’t the sort of old man who can be coaxed by kneeling.”

Delius shook his head. “I want him to see my sincerity.”

He then shouted at the house, “Mr. Saman, you should believe in the greatness of the God of Pamireth! Any of us has the right to believe in Him and follow Him. This has nothing to do with birth, nothing to do with bloodline, nothing to do with who my father is!”

Saman, who had already gone back inside, emerged once more.

Karon stepped aside, and the old man walked straight over to Delius again.

“If my identity offends you, then I ask your forgiveness here and now. Whenever you forgive me, that is when I will rise again.”

Hearing this, Karon sighed inwardly.

He then realized that the sigh he heard had come from Alfred, who stood beside him. In a low voice, Alfred commented, “Young Master, one sees this sort of routine far too often on the theatre stage.”

Karon nodded in deep agreement, though in his current life, he was yet to set foot inside a theatre.

Saman seemed wholly unmoved. He kicked Delius again. This time, the force was clearly greater than before. Karon noticed a bit of blue light shining across the top of Saman’s foot.

Delius was hurled through the air once more. Fortunately, several squad members reacted fast enough to catch him, though doing so knocked them all sprawling.

As for Delius himself, he finally lost consciousness after receiving that kick.

Karon immediately waved to Gendi. Understanding at once, the man ordered his men to carry the Divine Progeny out of the cemetery.

“Fucking mutt,” Saman spat. “He thought kneeling to me would earn him benefits. If I were not considering the believers who still worship Pamireth, I really would have killed someone today.”

“He may have been sincere.”

Saman looked at Karon. “Then are you willing to haul that old refrigerator back for me in return for his sincerity?”

“You truly judge people well. He couldn’t fool you.”

“Tch. You’ve got someone knowledgeable at your side, don’t you?”

“Coincidence. Pure coincidence.”

“If I had known that earlier, you should have brought him here. I might have enjoyed talking with him.”

“He” certainly could have been brought on a leash. Karon changed the subject. “Do you have a grudge against Bishop Byrne?”

Saman tugged his collar down to expose a black depression on the left side of his chest that was the size of the bottom of a bowl. “He left me with this.”

“You suffered a heavy loss?”

“No, I left something for him too, but in the end, I lost. Fighting was never my specialty.”

Hearing that, and recalling the earlier scene of Gendi’s entire squad and even the Divine Progeny looking like chicks before the old man, Karon found that statement difficult to reconcile with reality.

At the same time, it sounded strangely familiar; Karon’s own future father-in-law, Mr. Bede, seemed fond of saying much the same thing.

“Perhaps you could use this chance to visit the Herald’s Domain again,” Karon suggested. “Treat it as fulfilling a final wish before death.”

“I’m too lazy to go. There’s only one Elder lying inside, sealing himself. I never understood why he suffered so much before, but now, I think I do. To remain clear-headed can itself be suffering.

“That is why, if one must believe in a religion, one should choose a great church. Small churches carry too much sorrow.”

“That’s not right,” Karon disagreed. “In the eyes of every devout believer, their own church is always the greatest.”

Saman looked at him. “Help me hold the funeral tomorrow.”

“All right,” Karon said, nodding.

Saman raised a finger, and Alfred immediately offered the man a cigarette, and then lit it.

After taking a drag and slowly exhaling smoke rings, the old man pointed at Alfred. “Your servant is a fine one.”

“Yes, he is.”

“He has spoken with me recently about some rather interesting things. Truly interesting. He almost sounds like a missionary.”

Karon looked at Alfred, who lowered his head slightly. “He is good in every other respect, and is merely a bit eccentric at times. Please don’t mind him.”

“Mind him? Not at all.” Saman flicked a bit of ash away and sighed. “My life has reached its conclusion; It began with Pamireth, and it will end with Pamireth. I think that is fitting. Beginning and ending in the same place.

“A pity I don’t believe in the teachings of the Church of Reincarnation, otherwise, if there is another life, I would like to talk with him a bit longer. Perhaps he might even have converted me. What do you think?”

A slight smirk slowly appeared on Karon’s lips. “Of course. Anything is possible.”

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