Audrey, who had already arranged emergency contact details with Hugh and Firth, quickly relayed the clues from the "Knight of Fools" as if they were intelligence she had received through another channel to the two ladies. In a corner of an old church, Hugh pondered how to verify Larnus's identity and how to create chaos, seizing the opportunity to avenge Williams, while unfolding the folded paper. ...No need to verify—it was Larnus? Hugh's eyes suddenly widened. He hurried to scan the rest of the text, where it clearly read: "Only to be communicated to the Church of the Goddess of Night." "Remind them that Larnus bears the divinity of the 'True Creator.'" "Divinity? The divinity of the 'True Creator'?" Hugh exclaimed, startled, turning to the golden retriever who had delivered the letter. To his surprise, the dog looked just as bewildered. "What?" "Vulcan listened intently, then suddenly felt something was off. She quickly snatched the paper from the table and scanned it rapidly. After a moment, she hesitated, her lips trembling, unsure whether to smile or to be angry. 'This... is this all a joke?' she asked. 'How have we ended up involved in matters concerning the evil gods and divine essence?' This is just a clever fraud case worth only 200 pounds! When faced with Vulcan's question, Suzy could only meet her gaze with an expression of innocent bewilderment—like a dog who simply didn't know what was going on. Vulcan didn't expect a dog to resolve her concerns. She turned to Hugh and said, 'Miss Audrey may not be as naive or simple as we thought. She has many secrets.' 'This might well be the result of ongoing struggles between the nobility and the Church, and the occult organizations.' "However, it's clearly evident that she didn't know about her divine nature before—she was also exploited. Perhaps the person who exploited her is even her father, Lord Horbury." "Good news, though—the matter has now come to an end. You no longer need to take any risks. Once you've informed the relevant parties, you can rest assured and collect your reward." Xu paused, murmuring: "Yes... indeed." "Hopefully, the night watchkeepers will be able to avenge Williams' plight. They are so powerful—certainly they can, certainly they can..." As she spoke, she suddenly turned toward the side, speaking to herself: "I'm still so weak." "So weak..." Xu quickly raised her hand, covering her mouth and nose. ……I'm still too weak... Otherwise, I would have chosen to avenge myself personally. But now, I can only settle for something less. Not counting the "giants" surrounding Lan'urus and his hidden allies, merely the fact that he has attained divinity makes me feel I should be unable to stand against him. As soon as he sends word, the Night Watchers' swift response will ensure action tonight. The Bekland District, second only to the Church headquarters, is rich with seals and strong defenders—no need to wait for additional reinforcements. After finishing his tasks, Caine returned to the real world, stubbled his beard, changed his hairstyle, and stood before the mirror for several minutes, lost in thought. He felt a mix of anticipation, excitement, melancholy, and helplessness. Before dusk, he left the Crag Club and returned to Minsk Street. On the way, he stopped by a grocery market, picked a bustling, thriving stall, and bought several masks, including one of a clown. He decided to attend tonight's operation to capture Lan'urus! He wanted to witness firsthand the price Lan'urus would pay for his previous madness! Of course, with his own capabilities, he could only watch from a great distance, never getting close enough to approach. At 11 p.m., when many had already drifted into sleep, Caine donned a gray-blue worker's uniform, as he had done the night before, completing his disguise. Then he put on a baseball cap, walked several streets away, and took a hired carriage to the Beckland Bridge district. There, he switched to walking and made his way all the way to the East Baylant Docks. In his interview questions the previous day, he had asked about Lan'urus's current residence and the surrounding environment, so he was well aware that Lan'urus would be staying in the dormitory provided by the Dock Workers' Association at night. Yet, Caine did not head directly toward that location. Instead, he remained cautious, carefully detouring to reach the clock tower of the East Baylant Docks. — In Bekkan, while large churches are typically equipped with tall, iconic clock towers, many government buildings also feature one—often not particularly tall, not grand, not ornate, but practical, such as this one at East Bayling Dock. Compared to the tallest three-story buildings in the surrounding area, it stands out like a giant, rising into the night sky and overlooking the district. Klein easily ascends into the tower's interior, swiftly moving up the winding staircase that spirals upward without end. Finally, he reaches his destination—the massive wall clock at its center, surrounded by deep yellow railings and a pointed roof just within reach. Taking a few steps forward, Klein hides into the shadow, identifies his position, and gazes toward the dock workers' dormitory. It is a brick-red two-story building, now appearing as a mere black dot to pedestrians passing by. He gazes for several seconds, then steps back, blending seamlessly into the darkness. At the same time, he removed the new mask and put it on his face. It was a clown with a high, cheerful smile and a red paint accent on his nose—a happy clown. ... There was no sound…this must have been a temporary intervention achieved through extraordinary means. Klein, wearing a clown mask, watched the airship descend slowly, forming a certain hypothesis in his mind. At this very moment, his greatest puzzlement was why airships—despite their size—had been dispatched to cover small-scale extraordinary battles occurring in densely populated urban areas. Wouldn’t there be widespread injury to civilians? Wouldn’t the sight cause panic? The leading figure was not wearing a hat, with a short, golden-brown head of hair and deep, still waters-like green eyes that seemed untouched by wind or light. His shirt and coat collars were raised high, and both hands were covered by fresh, blood-red gloves! A silver-white metal suitcase was securely fastened to the left side of his hand by a matching chain. This was Cresta Césima, one of the nine senior stewards of the Night Goddess' Church, and one of the three pillars of the "Red Gloves" team—currently stationed in Beckett. Césima glanced ahead, then turned slightly to his subordinate on the left, saying, "Activate the seal, '1–63.'" "Yes, Excellency," replied the night steward, half-kneeling to assist Césima in unfastening the chain wrapping the silver-white suitcase. Throughout the entire process, Cresta Césima's muscles remained taut, as if resisting an unseen force. The night watcher on the left inhaled silently, then pressed down sharply, causing the surface of the silver box to ripple with an ethereal wave of cracks. The light around suddenly vanished, as if drawn entirely into the box. A bone sword, barely over a meter tall, glowed with a smooth, pure white radiance and drifted upward slowly. Its blade supported an ancient silver mirror. Within the mirror, scenes layered upon one another, accumulating endlessly without end. The night watcher on the left picked up the mirror and aligned it toward the brick-red cottage. The cottage was clearly visible, as though nothing had changed. Césima, however, exhaled gently, then extended her left hand and grasped the bone sword, barely over a meter tall. The surrounding light gradually returned. "Let's go in," he said, stepping forward toward the entrance of the cottage. The three night watchers opened the door and entered the dim, shadowed house, heading directly for the staircase leading up to the second floor. At that moment, a tall yet slender figure emerged from the shadow in the corner, dressed in a black cleric's robe, with light yellow, slightly wavy hair and wild, deep brown eyes. "Are you the Sword of the Goddess?" the giant, nearly two meters tall, spoke in a low, resonant voice. At the same time, his right hand suddenly clenched tightly. Boom! Boom! Boom! One after another, the members of the guild in the brick-red building woke up in their sleep, exploding mid-sleep without a single cry. Their bodies shattered into thick, rich flesh, half flowing toward the giant to form a protective cloak that would absorb magical attacks, and the other half coalescing into a dense, flowing blanket that spread over the three night-watchers. Cresta Sessima merely watched silently, doing nothing. In silence, the flesh dissolved and collapsed, falling like raindrops, leaving the floor unstained. Within each room, figures reappeared, still asleep. "This is the world within the mirror—one tailored for the extraordinary. To the ordinary, the flesh bombs embedded within their bodies here are mere illusions." Cessima took the holy bone sword in her right hand and raised it, and at once, the surrounding light vanished entirely. "Hmph!" Suddenly, the Giant seized his left shoulder with his right hand and tore the entire arm free, hurling it forward, bone and blood streaming. At the same time, at the severed shoulder wound on his left side, flesh and tissue began to surge and writhe, slowly growing a new arm—still bare, glistening with blood. The blood droplets fell precisely, missing Cessima and her companions, landing on the floor and rapidly corroding deep, dark streaks. Yet no matter how hard they tried, they always came within a hair's breadth of the three night-watchers, as though fate had destined it so. "My enemies often aren't quite as fortunate," Cessima remarked, a slight smile playing at her lips, and with a smooth step, she slipped and instantly materialized before the Giant. The Giant's gaze hardened, and suddenly his body melted like wax, transforming into thick, viscous flesh that swiftly seeped into the floor. Cessima promptly knelt on one knee, inserting her holy bone sword into the ground. "No!" A surge of pain and fear erupted in the dense darkness, only to be instantly swallowed whole by calm and stillness. Cessima straightened, drew the sword, and saw a single drop of dark blood slowly fall from its tip. On the floor, flesh rose and solidified into a face of despair—the Giant's mouth slightly downturned. Clap! Clap! Clap! Three shadows appeared around Cessima, only to inexplicably collapse, pulled down by countless unseen forces. Thud! Thud! Thud! Another night watcher fired—his silver bullets seemed etched with the emblem of the Night Saint. Three attackers who had hidden in the shadows and sought to strike now emerged, gasping and then losing their breath. "The Bishop of Roses," "the Hidden Monk"... members of the Aurora Order." Cessima furrowed her brows, speaking quietly without turning to her companions. "Something feels off. It's quite strange. You must be careful." Before he had finished speaking, the sound of steady, rhythmic footsteps echoed through the stillness and quiet. Then, he saw Larnuus descending the dimly lit stairs, dressed in a linen shirt, his face sharp-featured, calm and composed—showing not a single trace of fear. "Curious," Cessima remarked casually, as though she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, "for the Aurora Order, you should be a profane one. Why would they send someone to protect you?" Larnuus offered his characteristic mocking smile. "It's simple." "Because I am no longer merely Larnuus." He paused, his gaze suddenly turning stern: "I am now, truly, the 'True Maker'!" He suddenly pulled open his linen shirt, revealing deep red flesh where skin had been lost across his chest and abdomen. These connected masses of flesh formed the silhouette of a person hanging upside down! At that moment, the surrounding void shattered like glass, and all the scenes collapsed in a dramatic disintegration. This is the presence of the divine. PS: Updates will be posted earlier in the morning.