The matter of the thousand paper cranes remains vivid in Caine's memory, as Wil. Aunseitin—the "serpent of fate"—had initially used that object to locate Dr. Allen's stellar body, guiding it through Caine's dreams, conveying information, and forming revelations that evolved into specific dream visions. Later, Caine replaced Wil. Aunseitin's crane with one that he himself had folded, performing a divination atop the gray mist, but received no clear conclusion. It wasn't until Dr. Allen's wife became pregnant that, through calculations of time and a somewhat vague understanding of the sequence from 1 to 0, Caine conjectured that Wil. Aunseitin was undergoing a tail-swallowing reboot. He surmised that Wil. Aunseitin was engaged in intense struggles with other "serpents of fate" for the position of sequence 0, and that the nightmares brought about by the cranes were merely incidental. The true function of the cranes, he believed, was to enable Wil. Aunseitin to emerge as the infant in a quiet, undetected manner. The most amusing part of this whole situation is that Klein's origami cranes were mistaken by the night watchmen of Beckland for the original version of Willy Osgood, who had them recreated with a more rough-hewn craftsmanship and substituted for the originals. "Willy Osgood's crane—I had always kept it floating above the gray mist, nearly forgetting it. Without it, my divinations were always vague and indistinct. Without any other encounters, it would have been difficult to deduce that the child carried by Dr. Allen's wife was indeed Willy Osgood. Yet, conversely, Willy Osgood could use it to establish his precise position in the spiritual realm, just as the mirror Arados relied on the atmosphere of the gray mist to connect with the radio receiver in the spiritual world... "Hmm, this seems plausible," Klein suddenly sat upright, struck by a truly creative idea. He intended to use that crane to communicate with Willy Osgood in his dreams! This might not matter much to me now, and could even carry certain risks. But if Will O'Conner is indeed the "Fate Serpent" of the Vitalist school, the information I offer will surely earn me goodwill. For such a being of angelic royal stature, early investment is essential—when he finally comes into being, the returns could be数十 times greater. After all, trying won't kill me—well, even if I do die, I can be resurrected. That's what Klein thought in his heart, though in practice he remained cautious. He decided first to consult the Veil of Gray Mist to assess the level of risk, and only then decide whether to act. After a series of busy efforts, he confirmed that the risk was acceptable, and thus used a ritual to bring the thousand-paper crane back from the Veil of Gray Mist into the real world. Perhaps due to its origin as a Sequence-1 "Fate Serpent," the crane did not exhibit any particularly remarkable traits during its time in the Veil of Gray Mist—remaining simply ordinary, unremarkable. "I hope the distinctiveness of the atmosphere above the gray mist hasn't been diluted—otherwise,威尔.昂赛汀 won't be able to pinpoint it. Hmm... The title preceding 'Fated Serpent' is 'Prophet.' Will what I'm about to do fall within威尔.昂赛汀's expectations? He set aside his doubts, picked up the round-bodied steel pen, filled it with ink, and considered what to write on the thousand cranes to catch the attention of Will. Ainsworth—the "serpent of fate." What should he write? Klein recalled Arodes's account of the Vitalist faction's struggles, and felt that one sentence could encapsulate everything, vivid and full of emotional resonance. That sentence was: "Your house burned down!" It was too blunt, too direct, not quite courteous, and Will Ainsworth might not even be the leader of the Vitalist faction. After some thought, Klein gently unfolded the thousand cranes, writing different words across their surfaces to form a concise phrase: "Roy King has been arrested." Having completed all this, Klein placed the pen back, tucked the thousand cranes into his wallet—just as Dr. Allen had done. With a piercing cry, a blue raptor swift as shadow plunged from the sky, crashing heavily to the ground, sending soil flying and blood swirling. Aljer Wilson did not hesitate. Standing at a distance, he raised his left hand, pointing the black iron ring worn on his thumb directly at the formidable creature. At the top of the ring, a sharp protuberance stood out, streaked with ancient blood—both old and eerie. This was a magical item he had purchased from a craftsman for a reported price of 5,200 pounds, though he had actually paid only 3,100. The ring was named the "Spirit Whip," capable of inflicting severe, uncontrollable mental distress upon enemies. Beyond that, it merely enhanced Aljer's mastery of various weapons, making it less costly than its apparent value suggested. At that time, the craftsman and his friend possessed two magical items: the "Spirit Whip" and the "Witch's Ring." The latter was versatile, adaptable, and priced comparably to the former, making it a more favorable choice. Yet after careful deliberation, Aljer chose the "Spirit Whip," believing that without this item, the hunt for the Blue Shadow Falcon would have been several times more difficult—since it was a remarkable, flying creature. His judgment proved accurate. To make this choice, Aljer was willing to endure constant headaches, even longing to collide with walls. After waiting several minutes and observing the shimmering light on the Falcon's body, which coalesced into six crystalline feathers at the wingtips, Aljer finally exhaled in relief and approached. A linen band tied around his forehead bore a blood-red gemstone, radiating a glow reminiscent of moonlight. This was the vampire baron's heritage that was meant for Emlyn White—but once Aljere secured it, he didn't rush to finalize the transaction. Instead, he leveraged its initial capabilities to add insurance to his campaign of hunting the Blue Falcon. Sometimes, being a mediator is quite advantageous… Aljere silently mused as he folded the six crystalline feathers. He straightened, gazing toward the towering mountain at the heart of the island and the dense jungle surrounding it, sensing countless unseen perils hidden within. My current strength isn't yet sufficient to explore this place… Aljere turned his gaze away and walked toward the island's edge, ever alert for the presence of any other "hunters." Soon, he plunged into the sea, using his navigator's ability to glide effortlessly toward the distance—his ghostly ship was already there, his sailors still asleep under the lingering effects of the bloodline anesthetic. — To reach this remote island, ships must deviate from the main shipping lanes, navigating for at least six hours amid sea monsters lurking in storm-wracked waters, with the constant threat of sinking. Only seasoned navigators familiar with the route can successfully guide vessels to its vicinity. ... As night fell, after a day of rest, Caine laid down his newspaper and settled into bed. Just as he was about to fall asleep, a question suddenly came to him: Did Daniz return to the "Golden Dream"? Would he be too wasteful staying alone in such a spacious suite? Caine gave a barely perceptible nod, deciding to check out and move to a different hotel upon waking. Once he made up his mind, he fell asleep quickly, only to wake suddenly in the midst of a half-dream. He sensed that something powerful had invaded his dreams! Even the "Serpent of Fate" could be detected—how impressive! Well, perhaps the gray mist is truly impressive. Caine looked around and found himself standing on a vast, barren plain, with a black, slender tower visible in the distance. This was the scene he had seen in Dr. Allen's dreams, but now the silver-white mythical serpent that had once adorned the spire was gone. Cain nodded thoughtfully, quickened his pace, and entered the dark spire—still ancient and decaying, its layout disordered, with staircases sometimes spiraling upward and at other times sloping downward, rooms either upright or inverted, some embedded within others. Through one door after another, past one wall after another, Cain once again reached the deeper reaches of the black tower. Here, scattered across the floor were a series of tarot cards, gathered around a slightly raised central area. There, a row of silver words stood beside a portrait. The portrait depicted the plump apothecary, and the silver words formed a sentence: "Tell Dacwell." The name of the plump physician is Dacwelle... Wil Ontestin truly is the "serpent of fate" from the Vitalist school, and indeed I can communicate with him in dreams through thousand cranes... Klein waited a while, seeing no further revelations, and then withdrew from the dream, returning to sleep. He waited a moment, then saw the plump pharmacist, Dacwel, yawning as he opened the door. "…You're not ill, are you?" Dacwel remarked, studying him. Klein maintained the reserved expression of Germaine Spalo, politely tugging at his lips. "Good morning, Doctor. I've found your teacher." "Really?"