After another wave of relentless bombardment, the corridor leading into the main chamber came into view for the members of the "Heart of Mechanism." Debris covered the ground, and a diamond-shaped extraordinary trait—reflecting faces—lay quietly at the base of the right wall, complementing the other two glowing objects. Throughout the corridor, including the side walls and the stone ceiling, numerous depressions had formed, yet one item remained undamaged: a painted frame suspended several meters ahead, its color a warm brown-yellow with clear wood grain, currently only partially visible from the side. No one needed to be reminded—every extraordinary being present immediately recognized its unusual nature. At that moment, the Bishop of the Steam and Mechanical Church, Horamik Haydon, who had hitherto shown little activity, stepped forward and spoke softly: "It must be the 'Spirit Frame' belonging to the Amun family as recorded in the archives. As soon as someone enters its range and is illuminated by it, their spirit instantly separates from their physical body and becomes a portrait, permanently sealed within the frame. In this state, even if the portrait changes over time, there is no way to free the spirit unless a specific method is employed. If the spirit has been sealed for a long time and the body has already died, even with the correct method to release the seal, the spirit will soon fade away." As he spoke, Horamik took one step at a time, gradually approaching the strange frame. Klein unconsciously felt a bit concerned, hesitating to witness the direct confrontation between the half-divine, half-human figure and the sealing entity. Yet he quickly realized that he was merely observing the holographic feed provided by the magic mirror, Arodes—what could there be to fear? It's perfectly normal, just like the immediate experience of watching a horror film or playing a dark-themed game... Caine murmured to himself, quickened his pace, and caught up with Horamik Haydon. The half-divine, half-human archbishop swiftly entered the range of the magical artifact that needed to be sealed, his figure in a white priest's robe and wearing a soft clerical hat gradually appearing within the glass surface of the frame. Glass... Did glass exist in the Fourth Age? It seemed so—at least, the records of the Fifth Age consistently mention glass, though no one is ever credited with inventing it... Caine watched with growing interest as the half-divine figure engaged in what he perceived as a battle with the strange sealing object. Horamik's upper body was fully visible within the "ghost frame," yet his eyes retained their brilliance! He walked directly toward the frame, face to face. The figure within the frame shimmered, as though continuously contracting inward, yet it failed to fully collapse. Horamik paused, producing a large, nearly opaque black cloth that he had prepared in advance, and covered it over the "ghost frame." The frame trembled several times before finally being completely obscured, settling into stillness. Horamik seemed unaffected, calmly removing the "ghost frame" and wrapping it entirely in the cloth, tying it securely behind him. What... what isn't this mystical? Didn't we expect the spiritual essence to be drawn into the frame, transformed into a portrait? Yet the Archbishop has remained completely unimpressed. Is this a special attribute of half-divine, half-human beings, or is there another reason? Kline was puzzled, carefully observing Horamik. He found no signs of anomaly—his eyes were bright, his expression serene, his flesh well-nourished. Only遗憾ly, he wasn't present at the scene, otherwise Kline could have used spiritual vision to examine him further. Kline turned his gaze away and simply waited in place for Ikonser and the other members of the "Mechanical Heart" to arrive. Horamik handed the "ghost frame" to a member of his team and moved forward toward the main chamber at the end of the corridor. There, a black stone door stood, carved with sharp,斧-like patterns, with a gray-white circular disk embedded in the center. The disk's surface was divided into twelve segments, each marked by a black pointer, much like the clocks outside. Yet the segments were uneven in size and arrangement—uneven, discordant—and each one was half shaded. "the family crest of the Amun family," the Archbishop Horamik briefly noted. He did not elaborate on the symbolism of the crest, as only the steward-level Ikonser Bernard was qualified to know its deeper meaning. Klein drew upon his accumulated knowledge of mysticism to make sense of the patterns: "The combination of the disk, the twelve segments, and the pointers clearly represents time—this aligns perfectly with the 'Clockworm' left behind after Amun's duplicate perished. The twelve segments, which should have been evenly sized, are instead of unequal proportions, each shaded with a certain darkness. Does this suggest that the Amun family embodies the hidden, shadowed aspect of time? And where exactly is the manifestation of their title as 'the渎神者'—the渎神 ones?" As Klein pondered these thoughts, the Archbishop of Horamik simply pushed open the stone door without any protective measures. The heavy door swung wide, revealing an exceptionally spacious chamber. At the center of the chamber stood a raised platform upon which a deep black coffin was placed. Along the walls, iron-lit candle holders extended, each supporting a white candle that burned quietly and steadily. All the candles remained still, undisturbed—so serene and fixed in time that they seemed untouched by the passage of over a thousand years. Along the direct path from the stone gate to the coffins, bodies lay in reverse, dressed either in black wool suits with half-high silk hats, or in ordinary working attire with baseball caps—clearly recent arrivals. Where had the exceptional ones who had been recruited earlier gone? How had they passed through the earlier sections, when the spectral shadows and other monsters seemed still very much alive? Clain stared at the bodies, full of questions. Upon closer inspection, he was immediately struck by a sense of awe. Each body bore sparse white hair, dry, creased skin, and prominent wrinkles—like elderly men in their eighties or nineties. There were no visible wounds, as though they had simply aged and passed away naturally, having died only recently and not yet begun to decay. Clearly, there were no such elderly exceptional beings coming to explore this tomb. Even if the people discovered here were old, the recruitment team would have carefully selected the younger, stronger ones. Something was definitely amiss. Clain furrowed his brow and scanned the surroundings once more. He quickly recalled the "Chrono-creatures" left behind by Amun's duplicates, and the Amun family's emblem on the stone gate bearing temporal significance. Was it one of Amun's extraordinary abilities to cause rapid aging in others? The hidden aspect of time—the flaws in time—perhaps, when others aged swiftly, Amun's own members rejuvenated and lived longer? Wait—maybe these extraordinary beings had reached here precisely because the tomb's occupant had deliberately allowed them to, drawing upon others' time to sustain his own existence. Klein gazed thoughtfully at the black sarcophagus on the raised dais. At that moment, the powerful half-divine, Horamik Haydon, raised his left hand and pressed it downward: "You all stop here." "Yes, Your Grace," responded Ikonser and the others without hesitation. As members of the official organization, they had read countless extraordinary incident reports and knew that, in such situations, absolute obedience to the will of higher-ranking individuals was required—no initiative, no independent action was allowed, or else one would not only perish but would never know how. Horamik glanced forward, his gaze settling on a framed painting inverted at the base of the platform. He maintained his expression, walking steadily and unhurriedly toward the front. Yet, with no preparation at all? Wasn't the defining trait of a half-divine, half-human being sheer boldness? Kline found himself deeply astonished. He could already visualize Horamik's teeth falling out, his white hair thinning, his skin growing dry and wrinkled, rapidly aging. One step, two steps, three steps—normally composed Horamik suddenly trembled, and a sharp, grating friction sound emanated from within him. His gait began to slow, his movements grew stiff, and his skin became noticeably dry. This was not right. It wasn't the natural aging of a human being. What exactly was that friction sound from earlier? Klein murmured to himself. Four steps, five steps, six steps—cracks rippled through Horamik's body, and something clattered to the ground. Without thinking, Klein glanced over and saw a gear. A rusted gear! Horamik continued forward, occasionally dropping items—rusty screws, melted wax blocks, yellowed bones, loose springs—and his form grew increasingly thin, wobbling, as if about to dissolve. This was exactly like a robot… Well, using the terminology of this era, it was like a living puppet. Suddenly, Klein had it clear. He remembered that old Neil had once said the Sequence 4 of the Earth Mother Church excelled at "life forging," and that the "Universalists" path could manage it as well. Horamik was indeed a high-level Universalist. The Horamik before me is not the true one—only a crafted automaton. The "ghost frame" failed precisely because the automaton lacked a soul! The real Horamik should still be hanging far off somewhere... Indeed, a half-god. As克莱恩 suddenly realized, the Archbishop approached the dais, bent his knees, and lowered his back, flipping the frame over, which had been held upside down. Just a few seconds later, the main chamber grew dim, with only the lanterns held by the members of the "Mechanical Heart"勉强 illuminating the path ahead. Horamik picked up the frame lying on the ground and, shaking it slightly, ascended the stairs toward the dais. Upon reaching the black sarcophagus, he extended his right hand and pushed firmly. With a creaking sound, the heavy lid parted slightly—seeming as though it had never been nailed shut. Horamik glanced down and, without changing his tone, said, "No body." The view then zoomed in, and Caine saw the interior of the sarcophagus empty, with a thin layer of soft, pale gold padding laid at the base, embroidered with a creature bearing twelve circular rings. At that moment, Horamik turned around, and the frame came into view for Ikonser and the others. Caine's gaze instantly froze as he took in the scene. It was a portrait of a young man with a smile on his lips—dark eyes, dark wavy hair. He has a broad forehead and a lean face. He wears crystal single-lens spectacles. He is wearing a black soft hat with a pointed crown. Amun!