After confirming it in a single second, Caine clasped his hands and leaned forward. "What exactly is it?" "No," Emlyn White shook his head firmly. Concerned that he might be probing too deeply, Caine didn't press further. Instead, he simply analyzed the situation based on the information just shared by the vampire: Something related to "The Fool"... capable of resolving Emlyn White's current vulnerabilities... high risk... Combining this with his earlier thoughts, it seemed clear that he intended to perform a corresponding ritual—directed toward "The Fool," that is, me—to eliminate psychological conditioning and reclaim the long-overdue freedom he had been experiencing. Yet this was no longer Emlyn's personal ritual; it had been commissioned by a senior figure. Given the vampire's pride, the only person he would be willing to honor as such a figure was likely another powerful member of the vampire lineage. So why would a senior vampire's descendant approach "The Fool"? What kind of collaboration had the vampire house established with the Aurora Society? Klein lifted his head, gazing at Emlyn with a look of expectant anticipation, and mentally muttered, "Do you really think I'll respond to your plea?" After pausing for two seconds, he didn't immediately offer a suggestion. Instead, he said, "According to statistics, when one appeals to an unknown, hidden entity without prior information, out of every hundred such appeals, thirty receive no response at all, sixty-eight encounter various dreadful events that either end in death or leave them living but worse off than if they had died—only two succeed in obtaining what they desire, though the cost often comes at a price they didn't anticipate." As a former keyboard powerhouse, Klein always believed that anyone who, when establishing a fact or reinforcing a point, only cited individual cases or exceptional examples without mentioning the overall sample or statistical data, was simply being dismissive—changing the subject—while such instances typically came accompanied by similar phrases: "I know a friend of mine," "There's a girl I know," "Someone I'm close to." So, to convince Emlyn White, he carefully compiled some data. Of course, this wasn't entirely speculative—there were indeed several case files from when Kline was on the Night Watch team that documented similar situations. "Only two successes? Out of sixty-eight cases, problems occurred in most?" Emlyn was genuinely startled, reaching up to smooth his hair. "That's essentially accurate—this is the level of risk you're facing. If someone has ill intentions, the risk could even be higher," said Kline earnestly. Emlyn instinctively shook his head: "No, no, I have no ill intentions. And, and the important person will protect me throughout the process." No ill intentions? Well, even if they had, you might not be aware of it—you're just a sacrificial pawn pushed to the forefront. Kline raised his right hand, using gestures to emphasize: "That would certainly reduce the risk significantly, but it wouldn't eliminate it entirely. Can that important person truly stand up to the hidden forces?" “...should, couldn't," Emlyn stammered in reply. "So," Kline spread his hands. Suddenly, he smiled. "Emlyn, in fact, you really have no need to take this risk. Even if you fully embraced the Earth Mother's teachings, it wouldn't significantly affect your daily life. Look at the people of Feneport—they still eat what they like, wear what they want, and do what pleases them. By then, Father Utzalowski probably won't insist on making you serve at the Harvest Church anymore; you'll regain your original freedom. Moreover, I believe you've adapted very well to the Earth Mother's teachings—there's no real conflict." "Emlyn White paused a moment, then said: 'To become a believer because one genuinely loves the divine ideals is entirely different from being transformed into a believer through psychological suggestion and pressure. Even if one day I do abandon the Moon and embrace the Mother Goddess, I hope it will be a choice made freely—unconnected to anyone else. That is the last pride of our bloodline.'克莱恩略感诧异地看着埃姆林，没想到对方竟有如此坚持。他沉思了两秒，最终没有再劝说，只轻轻应了一声："嗯"，说道："The issue is actually quite simple—it's whether the command from the powerful figures and the appeal to eliminate potential threats can give you the courage to face a certain level of risk. If your belief is such that you're willing to sacrifice your life for it, then the answer becomes clear. 'Ultimately, this matter must be decided by you yourself.'" Emlyn listened solemnly, instinctively responding, "If I truly decided to make an effort, it wouldn't be for myself—but for the entire vampire race! Resolving the隐患 would merely be a bonus!" For the entire vampire race? What could possibly involve the whole race in my affairs? Is that great person simply deceiving you? Klein chuckled, saying, "A relatively weak vampire has the chance to save the entire race—do you believe that yourself?" "The vampire race, the vampire race!" Emlyn emphasized. "And my own strength isn't bad—equivalent to your human sequence 7, in fact, especially skilled in combat!" "As for whether you'll understand it or not," he stood up, "though your analysis and suggestions lack tangible substance, I still have to thank you—yes, the consultation fee will be offset by the chest and tin box from last time." Ah? Klein momentarily couldn't catch up with what Emlyn was saying. Only when Emlyn had left did he suddenly realize: "In most large-scale transactions, isn't the container always a gift? "What a stingy, grasping vampire!" ... In the still-dark, where the lightning frequency had not yet recovered, the Silver City exploration team arrived at the outer perimeter of the half-abandoned temple on time. Daryl remembered that during the first mission, all the animal-skin lanterns here had gone out, plunging the entire team into complete darkness, while he had distinctly heard young Jack, coming from deep within the temple, emitting a chilling cry of distress. According to the guesses of Mr. The Hangman and Miss Justice, this might very well be the starting point of our cycle. Yet why, upon awakening, were they found at the campfire outside the city, rather than right here? Daryl recalled the discussions from the Tarot meeting and, following the corresponding suggestions, raised his arm, silently praying. A pure, radiant light suddenly blossomed from his body, stimulating the exploration team members to swiftly assume battle stances. "What's happening?" asked Colin, the Hunter, drawing his straight sword and speaking in a steady tone. "Lord Chief," Deric said, looking left and right in alarm, "I just heard children calling out, 'Save me... save me...'" He wanted to test whether this was indeed the key moment! "Now?" asked Colin, remaining vigilant. "Now, there's nothing," Deric listened carefully. Colin glanced at Joshua and the others with a side glance. "Have you heard anything?" "No," the exploration team members shook their heads in succession. After only a few seconds of thought, Colin made his decision, drawing a small deep-blue metal bottle from a hidden compartment on his belt, and spreading the colorless, viscous liquid onto the hilt of his straight sword. Then, he thrust his sword upward. The sky suddenly brightened, streams of silver, serpentine light weaving through the upper air and rapidly spreading outward. The silvery glow instantly enveloped all the exploration teams, as if illuminating every darkest corner within each person's soul. Sssss—these silver serpents plunged into the void, vanishing into the distance. Soon, everything settled into stillness, leaving only the dim, steady glow of the animal-skin lanterns. Colin half-closed his eyes, sensing something, and only after five full seconds did he lift his finger toward the front, saying, "From now on, there must be no lapse—our vigilance must be at its peak." So familiar words… yet this was not the key to breaking through the crisis. Darien settled his mind, remaining fully attentive as he followed the group into the half-abandoned temple. This time, he learned from his earlier experience, choosing not to gaze upon the face of the "Fallen Sovereign," and through active engagement and determination, secured the area where the mural was located. He carried a leather lantern and held the "Galeaxe," moving in a small team. After passing through one wall after another—some weathered, others crumbling—he finally reached his destination. As the light from the leather lantern approached and grew brighter, the mural on the wall gradually came into focus. Deryck first glanced toward the corner and spotted a striking set of unfamiliar words. "Redemption Rose…" he murmured, raising the lantern and closely examining the details of the mural. On the weathered wall, the highest section was blurred, showing a massive black cross with a shadow hanging upside down, its form barely legible. Against this backdrop lay a vast, desolate plain. On the plain, a long procession moved steadily forward, headed toward the distant mountains and the cross atop them, as well as the figure suspended from it. Among the procession, some members knelt on the ground in devout prayer, while others had risen, facing the wind and continuing their journey. Their faces were simply outlined, as if emphasizing the wear and tear of their clothing, except for the leader at the forefront, who was notably clearer. He was a tall, slender man with silver hair reaching down to his back. His features were gentle, his head bowed, eyes closed, and behind him, layers of luminous, feathered wings unfolded. An angel! The very angel from legend! Deryk watched intently, his excitement barely contained, as he observed the surroundings of the leader. Soon, he noticed a winding, shimmering river flowing beneath the man's feet. The river meandered, turned back on itself, and eventually flowed into its own source! A cycle! This formed a cycle! Deryk suddenly felt he had grasped a crucial element. Within a scene of cyclical experience, a river flowing in a cycle appeared on the wall paintings! Clearly, it was signaling or revealing something profound. Derek raised his line of sight, and there, among the countless silver wings, stood the angel with a gentle yet slightly detached expression—like gazing down at a river, at fate itself. Was that truly the meaning of the "Card of the Fool" as the gentleman had indicated? Derek paused to consider, then decided to try—should he succeed, he would attribute all his unusual behavior to the young boy, Jack; should he fail, no one would even remember that he had ever done anything at all! With astonishment in his teammates' eyes, Derek raised the "Fury of the Wind" axe and struck hard at the river depicted in the mural. The passing lightning was instantly sparked, and the silver-white light settled upon the blade.