"The Fallen Creator... fallen..." Alger chewed on the words of the Fool, as though deeply pondering them. Yet within him, resonated the Fool's effortless, natural, and unconcerned demeanor. A posture of equality! Had it not been for the experience during the earlier ritual, Alger might have thought the Fool merely displaying bravado, using his own stature to intimidate him and the "Justice." But now, he felt more inclined to believe that even if the Fool fell short of the True Creator, he had nonetheless approached that level. It was both a threat and an opportunity. Alger murmured this silently, then added a touch of warmth: "Mr. Fool, your description is indeed more accurate. Based on our observations, among the exceptional beings who uphold the True Creator—no, the Fallen Creator—those who experience loss of control far exceed the normal rate. Of the remainder, the majority are, in fact, mad." Indeed, the internal records of the Watchers mention this... And the so-called "madman" doesn't mean losing one's senses—rather, their worldview has become profoundly distorted. Klein remained seated, not engaging with the "Hanged Man's" remarks. He was still pondering how to appropriately inquire about the Convent and the "Jester's" potions, yet had yet to find a method befitting his status. Alas, there's still a fundamental difference between this setting and online social platforms; otherwise, I could simply create a separate profile and join in, dedicated solely to asking questions that feel too personal or awkward to raise directly. Perhaps one day, I'll master a kind of mirror magic, and attempt it—like having half the members represent my profile. There are twenty-two chairs here, and the Tarot deck has twenty-two cards—quite a perfect match. Yet when I first envisioned a temple, I hadn't even yet called myself the " Fool," nor had I thought of establishing a Tarot society. Hmm—does this symbolize the twenty-two sequential paths? I wanted a temple, and so a temple appeared. I wanted a "smaller" one—would one appear, then? Seeing the Fool remain silent beneath the thick gray mist, Audrey of "Justice" spoke with a mix of wonder and curiosity: "That sounds quite daunting, hmm, Mr. "The Turned One." Could you elaborate on the various secret societies and hidden religious orders? I rarely encounter these in my daily life—my knowledge comes entirely through you. I'll pay you a fair fee. What would you like?" After a moment's thought, Aljer said, "I need some money—1,000 pounds, preferably uncirculated banknotes, or freshly mined gems, valued at the monthly average price as set by the Beckettland jewelry market." 1,000 pounds? That's a substantial sum—enough to buy a house in the upscale districts of Tinggen! Not everyone could come up with that amount at once... The captain's annual salary is just that? And Hélia's "death benefit" amounts to only 300 pounds... Though Miss Justice is a noble, she clearly hasn't inherited any substantial estate and can only draw her annual pension... Ah, that explains why the "Hanged Man" suggested using gems as payment. Crain is particularly sensitive to numerical values in money matters, and fortunately, there's a thick gray mist surrounding him. For a single woman, 2,000 pounds would be sufficient to secure a comfortable life for the rest of her days! ——a steady annual income of around 100 pounds. "1,000 pounds?" "Audrey was surprised and exclaimed immediately, then responded with a light, cheerful tone, 'No problem—should we still deliver it to the same address?' It sounded as though Miss Justice found the price quite reasonable. Kline didn't shift his gaze. Alger remained silent for over twenty seconds before saying, 'Yes, to the "Heroes and Sea" bar on Pelican Street in the White Rose District of Prizel Port, addressed to Mr. William's, with the note stating it's for "the Captain."'" "Understood," Audrey slightly reclined, adopting the posture of an observer, "The Hanged Man, you may begin." Alger glanced at the Fool, paused thoughtfully, and then spoke slowly, "Let us begin with the Moes Monastery—it is the earliest secret society. Of course, many believe the true earliest secret societies were the Church of the Night Goddess, the Church of the Earth Mother, and the Church of the War God." "These people must be members of the Church of the Storm Sovereign, the Church of Eternal Sun, or the Church of the Gods of Knowledge and Wisdom." "Audrey quietly countered. "Was the Church of the Goddess the earliest secret organization? That's the first time Caine has heard such a claim. What exactly happened in the Fourth or Third Age? "Alger smiled. "These truths have long been buried within that ancient history. The only thing certain is that no one ever claimed the Church of the Lord of the Storm, the Church of the Eternal Sun, or the Church of the Gods of Knowledge and Wisdom had ever been secret organizations." "Alright, let's save time and get back to the point. The earliest Moth Cult was founded by several human beings who had witnessed the Profaned Tablets. They believed in a deified, impersonal divine being known as the Hidden Sage." "This is described as divine, but it is more akin to an idea—a natural law—such as 'all things are numbers,' where the hidden sage embodies the principle of numerical harmony; or 'knowledge is supreme,' where the hidden sage personifies knowledge itself. Thus, the early Moschian monastic order was a highly respected organization, maintaining excellent relations with the major churches." "The members of this organization practiced asceticism to counteract chaos and mitigate the lingering effects of the magical elixirs, strictly preserving their secrets and adhering to moral principles and discipline, believing in continuous reincarnation after death." "They hold the Sequence 9 known as the 'Seer of Secrets'—and the term 'wizard' itself originated within this organization." Audrey sipped on the description of 'The Hangover,' and with keen insight, asked: "You say the early Moschian monastic order was a highly respected organization—so is that no longer the case today?" Alger gave a barely perceptible nod. "Yes, they have now fallen into a state of evil." "Why?" "I think their ideas are quite good and very reasonable," Audrey expressed her curiosity. This was also Clary's question—his access to confidential materials had not recorded the reasons for the decline of the Moes Monastery. Alger glanced again at the silent, enigmatic Fool and said, "Hmm. I don't know the true reason; it may have been completely buried under the dust of history. But I do know one startling explanation." "In this explanation, the primary reason for the Moes Monastery's decline was that the deity they revered—the 'Hidden Sage'—had actually lived on!" "He had become a personified evil god!" "Living? How is that possible?" Audrey asked in a tone of utter disbelief and incomprehension. Unconsciously, she stepped out of her 'observer' state. It was just like a ghost story—especially one where the ghost was a god. Clary's heart surged with waves of excitement and astonishment. "Sorry, no one knows the answer." Aljer had intended to casually add, "Perhaps the Fool himself knows," but he suppressed that impulse. He'd already tested his resolve at the edge of danger today. In the seventh section, he remembered clearly this phrase: "Do not probe the divine!" Audrey composed herself, didn't press further, and signaled for the narrative to continue. Crain remained seated, silent, cross-referencing the account of the "Emperor of the Hanging Man" with his own knowledge. In the end, he identified four points that required his attention: "First, the female orders of the magical sect were known as the 'House of the Women' in the Fourth Age. At that time, their membership was sparse, sustained through bloodline succession. Moreover, they would kill their children's fathers and abandon male infants, resulting in an all-female membership. Of course, this is Aljer's account—whether it is true or not remains unverified at this time." "Second, the spiritual order that believes in the death of the soul and the Rosicrucian school, which favors bloody rituals, both originated in the Southern Continent. After the arrival of the colonial era, they were severely weakened and nearly extinguished by the Seven Divine Churches, yet this very process enabled their spread to the Northern Continent." "Third, the Psychological Chain of Gold currently resembles the early Monastery of Moes, adhering to a non-personalized existence and believing that human spirit can evolve into all things." "Fourth, the Conventual Order is the least active among all secret societies, thus the least understood by others. Each time they appear, it seems as though they are pursuing something—seeking something." What are they pursuing? What are they seeking? Caine suddenly recalled the journal he had just read: the leader of the Conventual Order, Chalatu, had collaborated with Roserel with the aim of securing an heirloom from the Antigonus family. And this time, their purpose was to recover the lost notes—the Antigonos family's notes... Klein's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he had finally grasped the core of the Conclave's actions: they were pursuing the belongings left behind by the Antigonos family! Klein restrained himself from lightly tapping the edge of the table, his thoughts swirling: Indeed, were they seeking traces of the Antigonos family's remaining legacy? Would that be the way to obtain the "Jester" potion's recipe from the Conclave? After exchanging a few more observations, Klein declared the meeting adjourned. "In accordance with your will," both Audrey and Aljere rose simultaneously. Cutting the connection, watching their figures fade and dissolve, Klein rubbed his temples, striving to imagine what a "Soprano" might look like. As soon as his thought settled, he saw a figure emerge at the very base of the bronze table. The figure wore a black tailcoat and a half-high silk hat, expression呆滞, movements stiff and unresponsive. Even with the ethereal gray mist enveloping it, the strangeness was unmistakable. No good... Kline had tried this several times now, sighed, and abandoned the idea of creating a new account. He tried other things, then settled back into his seat atop the mist, in the principal position at the bronze table, reflecting on Audrey's earlier words and turning his gaze curiously toward the ethereal, deep-red stars. After a moment of silence, Kline began to engage the stars not by establishing connection, but by responding to their requests. Yet, among the ten or so deep-red stars nearby, he gained no information. Could it be that only after first establishing a connection and drawing the person into the mist could one truly "respond"? Kline nodded thoughtfully, slightly disappointed. He didn't want to override anyone's wishes and forcibly draw them into this mysterious space. Hmm... Caine began to prepare to leave, but by inertia, he came into contact with a nearby ethereal star. At that moment, he suddenly sensed a faint, barely perceptible "plea" within the deep red!