Beckland, Queens. Audrey Hall sat in a swaying chair in a shaded corner, gazing at the vibrant clusters of fresh flowers bathed in sunlight, reflecting on the matter that Lady Firth Volle had requested her assistance with. According to Viscount Glaringt, there indeed exists a young woman named Hū D'irch, detained in a temporary prison in the northern part of Beckland. Her charge is that she seriously injured a well-respected gentleman in a property dispute, leaving him still hospitalized—possibly never able to rise again. Firth's explanation is that the gentleman was not a good man; he was the powerful crime boss of Beckland's eastern district, known for extorting high-interest loans. The dispute began when a borrower discovered that the interest charged was several times higher than anticipated, and even after bankruptcy, could not repay the debt. After unsuccessful negotiations with the gentleman, the borrower sought out the locally renowned "mediator," Hū D'irch, hoping she could persuade him to waive the unreasonable portions. The gentleman did not comply with Lord Dillchar's "ruling," even threatening to seize the borrower's wife and children that very evening. Thus, Lord Dillchar shifted from persuasion to physical means, inadvertently causing serious injury. Viscount Graylinth investigated the circumstances and confirmed that Mrs. Firth Wal's account was accurate. He also verified that the mob leader had lost control over his subordinates, and following a nocturnal "visit" by someone, had discharged the borrower's debt and issued a formal statement of forgiveness to the prosecutor—yet the case of serious injury would not be dropped simply because the victim chose not to pursue it. "Lord Graylinth hoped to resolve the matter through conventional means, and dispatched a consultant lawyer well acquainted with the case. The lawyer expressed confidence in securing a light sentence, though the challenge of an acquittal remained high—unless the party could obtain a medical certificate attesting to mental illness or developmental disability..." Audrey murmured silently, aligning herself with her friend's recommendation. Most important to her was to maintain no overt relationship with Furse Wol and Hugh Dillchar—after the "Tarot Society" incident, Audrey felt she was no longer the naive young girl she once was. "There's a ball at the Count Wolff's tomorrow evening. When you get there, tell Gleantrt to follow the advice of the senior lawyer." Audrey nodded slightly, making up her mind. In the Kingdom of Roon, lawyers are divided into senior lawyers and junior practitioners. The latter handle non-trial matters such as gathering evidence, interviewing clients, drafting wills, overseeing estate distributions, and providing legal consulting services. Of course, they may also represent clients in the earliest level of magistrates' courts for straightforward cases. The senior lawyers are those who study evidence and represent clients in court. According to the laws of the Roon Kingdom, they must remain objective and thus cannot have direct contact with their clients. They gather information solely through their assistants—practice lawyers—who are themselves true legal experts, renowned for their exceptional oratory skills and outstanding debating abilities. With a relaxed demeanor, Audrey, now hidden in the darkness and observing the vibrant blooms outside, suddenly recalled an idea: "A medical certificate attesting to mental illness or cognitive developmental issues... a psychiatrist..." "If the psychological alchemy guild has mastered the 'role-playing technique,' does that mean we should look within the group of psychiatrists for them?" As she thought this through, Audrey felt her reasoning was perfectly sound, her eyes shining brightly, like precious stones. At that moment, she saw the golden-haired dog, Susie, slipping quietly behind the fresh clusters of flowers, reaching the spot only the gardeners would visit. "Susie... what is it that she wants to do?" Audrey crouched in the shade, stunned. The golden-haired dog seemed enchanted by the scent of the blooms, oblivious to her owner behind her, and opened her mouth, emitting a croaky, gurgling sound—ah-ah-ah, yah-yah-yah. Then, she caused the air around her to vibrate, producing clumsy, uneven words: "Hello." "How are you?" ... Audrey's mouth slowly opened, completely forgetting the graceful etiquette of a lady, utterly unable to believe what she was seeing and hearing. She suddenly stood up, exclaiming, "Susie, can you speak? When did you start speaking?" Startled, Susie leaped up and turned to face her owner. It shook its tail hurriedly and quickly, then opened and closed its mouth several times before sending a ripple through the air around it: "I... I don't know how to explain. After all, I'm just a dog." Hearing this, Audrey found herself momentarily speechless. ... On a Monday morning, after taking her scheduled break, Kline reviewed and reinforced his knowledge of mysticism before boarding a public carriage for Hoy University. He wanted to get to know Azk better and find out what he knew. In the three-story gray stone building belonging to the history department, Kline chatted with his supervisor, Cohen Quentin, about matters relating to the ancient ruins near the peak of Honaquis. When he didn't gain any new insights, he took the opportunity while the supervisor was away to go to the office across the way and approach the desk of the resident Azk faculty member. "Professor Azk, would you mind if I spoke with you a moment?" he said, bowing slightly as he looked at the faculty member—his warm copper complexion, gentle features, and small mole just below his right ear. Azkir, with his brown eyes holding an indescribable sense of weariness, straightened the books and said, "No problem, let's take a walk by the Hoy River." "Alright," said Caine, holding his cane, and followed him out of the three-story stone building. Along the way, both remained silent, neither speaking. When the flowing river came into view and the sounds of teachers and students passing by faded, Azkir stopped, half-turned, and faced Caine. "Do you have something you'd like to tell me?" After a long pause, Caine had considered many indirect ways to phrase it, but ultimately abandoned them all. So he spoke plainly and directly: "Mr. Azkir, you are a trusted and respected gentleman. I'd like to know—what exactly have you seen in me, or what do you know about me? I mean, regarding the matter last time, when you mentioned that there were inconsistencies in my fate." Azk tapped his staff, sighed, and smiled. "I didn't expect you to be so direct—I'm not sure how to respond." "Honestly, the only thing I can clearly see is an inconsistency in your fate. Beyond that, I don't know any more than you do." Caine hesitated and asked, "But how do you know this? I don't believe it stems from divination." Azk turned his head toward the Hoy River, his tone tinged with a sense of melancholy. "No, Caine, you don't understand—divination can reach this level, but it depends on who is doing the divination. Of course, my divination is merely an excuse I've used to mask the truth." "…Some people are always special, born with certain unusual abilities, and I believe I am one of them." "Should be?" Caine敏锐ly picked up on the nuance in the word choice. "Yes, I'm not sure whether I was born with this ability or not—perhaps the price of such a gift is to forget oneself, to forget the past, to forget one's parents." Azk's gaze, slightly sorrowful, rested upon the river's surface. Klein grew more and more puzzled. "Forgotten the past?" Azk smiled without warmth. "Before entering the History Department at Beckett University, I lost most of my memories—only remembering my name and some basic facts. Fortunately, I had an identity document; otherwise, I would have become a wanderer. For years, I've used that document to search for my parents, but without success—even though I could glimpse fragments of my fate." "During my years at university, I gradually discovered that I possessed certain unusual abilities—abilities that go beyond ordinary expectations." Klein listened intently and asked immediately: "Mr. Azk, could you tell me what caused your memory loss? I mean, did you observe or experience the moment when it happened?" He suspected Mr. Azk was a memory-loss case from the Life School—a possibly high-ranking mid-tier member, the one corresponding to "the Monster," known for its prophetic figures and teacher-student lineage, a secretive organization. Azk shook his head heavily: "No, it's as if I simply slept and then forgot everything." Holding his cane, he took a few more steps forward and said as he walked: "After leaving Bekland, I began dreaming—of many strange things..." Dreams? I'm an expert in dream interpretation! Klein immediately asked. "What kind of dreams?" Azk gave a vague, soft chuckle: "Numerous, varied dreams. Sometimes, I dream of the inner chambers of a dark mausoleum, where ancient coffins lie, and the corpses inside are lying on their sides, with white feathers growing from their backs. Sometimes, I dream that I am a knight clad in full armor, wielding a lance three meters long, charging straight toward my enemies. "Sometimes, I dream that I am a lord, with a prosperous manor, a beautiful wife, and three children. Sometimes, I dream that I am a wanderer, drenched in rain, walking through muddy paths, cold and hungry." "Sometimes, I dream of a daughter—different from those children before—she has smooth black hair, enjoys sitting on the swing I built myself, and always asks for fruit. Sometimes, I dream that I stand beside the gallows, calmly gazing up at the body swinging above..." Listening to Azk's murmurs, Caine found himself unable to interpret his dreams, for the symbols in the different dreams were contradictory and opposing! Azk withdrew his gaze, his voice now steady: "The Kingdom of Feneport in the south worships the Earth Mother. The Church of the Earth Mother teaches a doctrine: they believe every life is a 'plant,' drawing nourishment from the earth, growing slowly, flourishing, and eventually decaying." "When they finally fade, these lives will fall to the earth, returning to their mother's arms, and each year, they will grow anew, bloom and wither, year after year—life itself unfolds in this same way, generation after generation." "At times, I truly wish to believe this. I often feel that, because of my own uniqueness, I can dream of fragments from my past lives, from lives before this one." As he spoke, he turned to Caine and sighed, "I haven't even mentioned this to Coen. I've told you this because—I..." Azkaton paused and smiled, "I'm sorry—I wasn't quite accurate in my description. The inconsistency in your fate isn't the only thing I've noticed. I've also observed another matter." "Caine, you are no longer a normal person. You possess extraordinary, unusual abilities—much like mine."