"An idiot?" The distinguished guests at Mr. A's gathering either mused over the word themselves or whispered to their companions, discussing whether they had ever encountered anyone with such beliefs. "When did such a cult suddenly emerge?" someone murmured in bewilderment. At that moment, Mr. A asked a servant beside him to raise a blackboard, on which several words were written in Runes: "An idiot who does not belong to this age; "The mysterious sovereign above the gray mist; "The king of fortune, of yellow and black." While the crowd studied the blackboard, Mr. A, speaking in a hoarse voice that was quite uncomfortable to listen to, continued: "Do not recite these words in Hermes tongue—nor in Giant, Elf, Dragon, or ancient Hermes tongues. Indeed, even writing them in those tongues would likely bring about something dreadful." "Help me find those who believe in the ' Fool.' Of course, they might also follow the 'Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Mist' or the 'King of Yellow and Black, Lord of Good Fortune.' As soon as you have any clue, inform me immediately—I will reward you handsomely!" "This description... sounds like something truly remarkable. I've only encountered similar references in the scriptures of the Seven Deities!" one gathering member exclaimed in awe. His companion shook his head. "Many heretical sects also describe their deities in a similar manner." "Are you saying they're actually heretical sects?" another gathering member interjected, startled by the conversation. "Indeed. Typically, when we summon spirits from the spiritual realm, we receive such descriptions in three parts—though one of those parts is always something like 'the favor of X' or 'what is uniquely belonging to X.' This particular form is quite different!" a member well-versed in esoteric studies offered, citing theoretical grounds. As they exchanged warm words, Forse stood utterly stunned. Wasn't this precisely the title of the "Knight of Fools"? Though described in Runes, I have no doubt about it! How could Mr. A have thought to seek out followers of the "Knight of Fools"? Was this the intention of the Polar Circle? Forse's mind was in a whirl. She knew Mr. A was a member of the Polar Circle because, during the recent assassination of Ambassador Beckland of Indis, a certain "terror organization" had publicly claimed responsibility. After a brief moment of astonishment, Forse instinctively turned her attention inward, fearing that she might be discovered as a member of the Tarot Circle—some sense of a "follower of the Fools." I simply recited the noble title of "The Fool" as written on that piece of ancient Hermes script, and thus was drawn into the gray mist above—no one knew of this at all, so there was absolutely no fear of investigation. Yet the paper bearing the noble title of "The Fool" had a source: it was hidden within the books we had borrowed from Lord Glayntrit. Folsie's mind flashed with urgency. "A Fool from a time not of this age... Wasn't this exactly what I saw written on that paper? I even dreamed of a malevolent spirit!" At the same time, Thew recalled the event that had left her deeply unsettled, though her long experience as a bounty hunter had kept her from revealing any unusual signs. Then, naturally, she traced the paper's origin further back in time: It was tucked inside the inner folder of *The History of the Noble Houses of Runen*—the very book I had borrowed from Lord Glayntrit's study. Suddenly, both Folsie and Thew simultaneously recalled a name: "Lord Glayntrit!" At that moment, Viscount Glarent was gazing at the blackboard, murmuring to himself with evident interest: "Such a rare name! 'But it sounds absolutely impressive!' "As he finished speaking, he glanced around, puzzled, and asked both Firth and Hugh: "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Nothing at all," both Hugh and Firth shook their heads vigorously. Audrey hadn’t had time to take in the surroundings when she saw a thirty-something gentleman in a gray tailcoat approaching. "This is the owner of the house, Stephen Hampres, a furniture merchant," Islanthe introduced. Just as she was about to mention Audrey’s identity, Hampres chuckled and said, "Islanthe, please hold on—give me a chance to make a guess." He had a neatly trimmed mustache and warm, captivating brown eyes, appearing remarkably refined—more like a university lecturer than a furniture merchant. He studied her carefully and smiled, "Irisland only mentioned that you were her student. Hmm, I believe you're a well-bred noblewoman—someone who's not merely superficial. You can certainly rest assured that your standard of living won't suffer at all... You're a bit excited, genuinely curious, relatively simple-hearted, and full of kindness. Of course, the most obvious thing is your striking beauty—you're absolutely like an angel!" He ended with a light joke, then placed his hand on his chest and bowed slightly. "Welcome, beautiful angel lady." You're absolutely right—no wonder you're a member of the 'Psychological Alchemy Circle.' But the observations you've made all reflect my state from several months ago, the version of myself that I've deliberately cultivated." Audrey was both surprised and stunned. "Mr. Hampres, did you know me before?" She didn't let her expression of astonishment linger too long, because such emotions were inherently fleeting and couldn't persist for long. If someone remained astonished for several seconds, it likely meant he was performing. Audrey hadn't noticed this at first, but after observing others "act," she gradually developed a number of intuitive patterns. "No, I still don't know you. That's simply a basic quality of someone who's interested in psychology," Hampres chuckled. Before he had finished speaking, Audrey had already completed her observations and drawn corresponding conclusions based on the surrounding environment: "His attire and the furnishings of his home clearly indicate that he is someone who places great importance on his personal appearance. The sapphire on his left ring appears substantial, though its actual quality is quite ordinary, and it lacks any symbolic or magical inscriptions. His financial situation does not seem as strong as he presents it—indeed, he appears rather vain. "Although he was very enthusiastic just now, his posture, the direction of his feet, and the subtle shifts in his emotional tone all suggest that he remains deeply cautious and highly alert. "He genuinely praised my appearance, yet his manner does not quite reflect the typical male appreciation of a woman. His face shows signs of skincare, and his eyebrows have clearly been styled—his craftsmanship falls short of that of my makeup maid, Solya, but still surpasses my own. The fragrance he wears is one I've only seen women use—'confused,' I'd call it. Indeed, he seems to be fond of men, and he is playing the role of the more vulnerable party." Meanwhile, Audrey skillfully demonstrated her own aspirations: "Mr. Hampres, I truly admire your keen observational Meanwhile, she smiled gently, guided by Hampres and Islandt, and introduced herself to the other seven or eight people in the sitting room. These dual enthusiasts of esoteric studies and psychology included descendants of fading noble families, university associate professors, and children of wealthy families—such as a young man whose father was the well-known owner of Philip Department Store, one of Beckland’s most prominent retail chains. During the ensuing conversation, Audrey listened mostly without speaking, only occasionally asking questions, clearly expressing her curiosity and enthusiasm. In this academic discussion, Hampres, Islandt, and the others deliberately mentioned etheric bodies and mental bodies, the spiritual realm and collective unconscious, and offered some particularly distinctive perspectives, gradually clarifying the accumulated questions and uncertainties she had long harbored. When the time came to leave the house, Audrey glanced at Islanth beside her, with a touch of naivety, and asked, "Irislanth, Teacher, when will I be as excellent in psychology as Mr. Hampres?" Islanth smiled gently, tilted her head slightly, and looked at her, saying, "Soon." That is to say, knowing only that I am the " Fool" and my corresponding title, knowing that the clues lie in Beckland—who revealed this information? Klyken furrowed his brow, recalling carefully. Soon, he found a possibility: Recently, the young "Sun" had recited my title, specifically during a time when he had interactions with members of the exploration team contaminated by the "True Creator." He had performed a ritual there—there should have been the symbolic representation of the "Fool," an ancient palace rising above a gray mist. Thus, the "True Creator" had detected the presence of the "Fool" and confirmed that I was the one who had previously defiled—no, disturbed—no, observed—Him. Furthermore, at that time, the young "Sun" had used the "Eye of All Black," which carried the spiritual contamination of the "True Creator." Through this, He had clearly identified whether my followers or devotees were present in Beckland. From now on, the "Eye of All Black" must no longer be carried out! After roughly grasping the issue, Kline found himself once again stuck with a dilemma: Was Mr. A genuinely lacking in mental acuity by simply seeking followers of "The Fool" at a fairly open, not overly private gathering of extraordinary individuals, or was he deliberately "casting a net" to attract interest? Ah, the Aurora Circle members are all eccentric madmen—so mentally frayed that it's simply impossible to fathom their true intentions! That's precisely what it means: as long as I'm mad, you'll never know what I'm thinking.