Hearing this answer, Kallen smiled, finding this Temple Elder rather amusing.
"Oh, you don't need your sword. You can write with your finger."
"All right, thank you."
Kallen put away the Diamans Sword, extended a finger, and pressed it against the stone stele before him.
The stele was writhing. Logically, it should have been soft, yet it felt extremely hard. When Kallen began to "write," mental fluctuations emanated from the writhing stele, as though it were actively calling to him.
"Young role models" escorted here for execution were, after all, an exceedingly rare minority. Faced with the stele's call before the Gate of Order, the vast majority of the Order God Church's young people would never think of resisting it.
Kallen lowered his defenses and actively welcomed these mental fluctuations.
Then, the instant the connection formed, Kallen sensed a majestic will sweeping downward.
Logically, he should have felt an affinity for this consciousness, for it contained an exceptionally pure aura of Order, an existence all Order Followers truly yearned for.
Yet when this consciousness swept over Kallen, an extremely intense discomfort suddenly arose within him.
This discomfort was countless times stronger than walking into his room to find his bed piled with foul-smelling garbage, with flies and maggots swarming everywhere.
Vaguely, he also sensed something familiar.
Behind him, the little boy floating there showed no surprise at seeing Kallen standing frozen with a finger pressed against the stele. He murmured to himself:
"What a pure will of Order. Almost every young person feels entranced upon first sensing it and stands frozen for a long time. They may even wish this moment would never end."
Urgh...
Kallen forcibly suppressed the nausea surging through his body.
He finally realized where that familiarity came from. This consciousness did indeed contain an exceptionally pure