After a quiet moment of observation, Caine took a step forward and stepped onto the staircase, carefully descending one level at a time. The light around him gradually dimmed, leaving only a hazy, muted tone that enveloped this profoundly still world. As he descended, the sensation of being sealed within a dark, silent, lightless room grew stronger. Slowly, he began to hear the steady flow of his blood and the strong, rhythmic beat of his heart. The heartbeat grew faster, and a growing sense of anxiety and panic began to take hold. Caine quickly focused his mind, visualizing stacked spheres of light to steady his emotions and restore his composure. To his side, the gray-white cliff representing Grolser's unconscious domain stood cold and still, as if lifeless—yet occasionally, within the hazy atmosphere, a single point of light would flicker. Caine gazed intently, and from one of these luminous spots, he saw a giant tearing through the human beings who had been fed to it, with Grolser himself, still no taller than three meters, clearly in his childhood stage, his face filled with fear. A flash of light revealed the setting sun, frozen upon the mountain peaks, as though time itself had slowed to a crawl. While Kline was seeking deeper, more valuable insights from Grolscher's unconscious mind, a low, wild beast-like breathing suddenly echoed in his ears. In a sudden movement, a massive hand emerged from the hazy surroundings—its skin gray-blue, streaked with signs of decay, oozing a distinct yellow-green fluid—that swiftly grasped at Kline's ankle. From below, along the steps, identical hands rose one after another, reaching upward as if pulling Kline's spirit forcibly into the deepest, most elusive realms of his inner world. For a moment, these decaying hands formed a dense forest and sea, pressing upward with relentless intensity, emitting a terrifying, shuddering breath that made each hair on Kline's body stand on end. Startled, Kline instinctively leapt upward, climbing three steps. Yet the countless hands, like the corpses of giants, did not cease. They pressed against the stair surface, flowing upward in a tide, gradually submerging every inch of space beneath. As Cain reached out to grasp his right hand to take the "Hourglass," intending to purify the bullets in coordination with the "Massacre" to deal with this countless host of "monsters," two questions suddenly flashed into his mind: Where did these hands originate? Why had they appeared within Grolser's unconscious? As soon as these questions arose, inspiration struck, and Cain suddenly grasped the essence of what was unfolding. He immediately abandoned the use of the "Hourglass," steadied his breath, and began to visualize the luminous sphere. The decaying, massive hands surged forward, now gathering at his feet, reaching for his ankles and calves! At that very moment, they vanished silently—seeming as though they had never appeared at all. "Indeed, this was a hallucination induced by Grossel's unconscious influence. Here, minds not only directly face each other but also merge. Without exceptional abilities, the deeper one goes, the more likely emotional collapse occurs—gradually eroded by the other's unconscious, ultimately polluting the 'mental body' to the point of becoming a patient with irreversible mental illness. Such a state may lead to complete loss of control. This differs from spirit communication, where mere clarity of mind and rationality suffice to avoid contamination, since one is already immersed within the target's mental body." Klein murmured silently, gaining insight. After hesitating for a few seconds, he turned and began ascending the stairs, choosing to withdraw from Grossel's mental realm, as he lacked the exceptional abilities to soothe his own mind; pressing on downward would have amounted to self-sacrifice. "Once I have gathered sufficient magical artifacts in this area, I will reconsider the question of further exploration." Klein solidified his idea, quickened his pace, and finally leapt back into Groessel's dream, back to the dwelling of the guards at the "King's Court of Giants." He felt weary and immediately stepped out of the dream, passing through the wall of Groessel's forge, once again observing the strange wonders of the world within the book. "I have now met Groessel, Mobert, and Chastas. During my earlier wanderings, I heard of the devout priest Snowman and the 'philosopher' Longzeler, but I have not encountered Anderson Hude, Edwena Edwards, Daniz, nor Garmen Sparrow... So, are only the deceased granted entirely new roles in the book, or do those adventurers who have lived here for a long time, fully expressing themselves in daily life, leave behind a certain unconscious imprint?" Strolling along the edges of the streets bathed in golden afternoon light, Klein pondered this question that held significant weight for him. If the first scenario holds—where the deceased "rebirths" and becomes a new character—then Kline need not worry at all. But if the latter scenario is true, he will have to reduce the frequency of his explorations into the world of the book and strictly limit the duration of each visit. "We can't determine this yet. For now, we'll proceed with the latter scenario—caution is always wise," Kline quickly made up his mind and prepared to return to the Gray Mist. At that moment, he spotted a familiar figure. Drenzel, with black hair and blue eyes, sat on a long wooden bench by the street, gazing blankly at the sky as though it had been scorched by fire, clearly deep in thought. Remembering that Drenzel's ashes were now in his hands, ready to be sent back to the Storm Church cemetery in Béklând, Kline sighed silently and walked over, sitting beside him, and casually asked, "What are you thinking about?" "I'm wondering who I am, where I came from, and where I should return to..." Long Zeler spoke softly, as if dreaming. Before Klein could ask any further, he shook his head and chuckled lightly. "I've always felt I don't belong here. Not the me I am now—there's a place waiting for me to return to. They mock me for always asking these seemingly useless questions, so they've given me the nickname 'philosopher'..." As he spoke, he gazed at the setting sun, and once again fell into silence, lost in thought. Klein said nothing, simply sat quietly beside him, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Then, without a word, Klein simply vanished. Long Zeler didn't notice that his companion had gone, remaining as still as a marble statue, gazing steadily into the distance, motionless for a long time. He had to return to Pasu Island within the specified timeframe to report. At this very moment, in the captain's cabin, he was gazing with eager anticipation at the ethereal gateway on the altar—composed of spiritual elements and glowing, expanding candles. It was the gateway of sacrifice, and also the gateway of bestowal! With a creaking, mysterious sound, the gateway slowly unfolded, revealing beyond it an endless depth of darkness and stillness. Light burst forth from within, then gradually receded. When all had settled, two new items had appeared on the altar, and the grand gateway adorned with various strange symbols had vanished entirely. Aljer remained composed, sincerely thanked the "Knight of Cups" gentleman, and completed the ritual according to procedure before reaching out to take the two items. One was a neatly folded piece of paper, and the other was a translucent "sea anemone" encased in clear, blue seawater. Aljer first examined the latter and noticed that within it, gusts of wind occasionally stirred swirling patterns, flashes of silvery lightning sometimes streaked across, and at other times, a distant, melodious song gently emanated outward. "The tone has a feminine quality... it seems the owner of this trait is a woman." Aljer breathed a sigh of relief, for it meant that it wasn't one of the senior figures in the Storm Church who had been killed. There simply weren't any female senior or mid-level figures in the Storm Church! He set aside the exceptional trait of "Ocean Singer," unfolded the paper, skimmed over the main materials section, quickly glanced at the auxiliary materials, and finally settled his gaze on the ritual section. To him, what mattered most was the ritual: the primary material was of secondary importance and could be addressed later, while the auxiliary materials were of a type easily accessible and thus required little attention. Only the ritual held paramount significance: "Administer the potion within the belly of an Obunis..." Aljere read the ritual silently, and instantly conjured up the corresponding information in his mind: The Obunis was an ancient sea creature capable of swallowing entire sailing ships whole. It possessed a massive, contorted body, three heads, and a multitude of entwined tentacles, often serving as the central figure in maritime legends. Most Obunis had been tamed by the Church of the Storms and now inhabited well-defined regions, though it remained uncertain whether they possessed a level of intelligence approaching that of humans. "It's no wonder the Church seeks to control the Obunis rather than the other sea monsters... It's no wonder so many exceptional ones among the pirates follow the 'Sailor's' path, yet only a few reach Sequence 5—either through direct genetic inheritance or as subordinates of the 'King of the Five Seas' and the 'Mysterious Queen'... Then where should I look for Obunis that aren't under the Church's control?" Aljere furrowed his brow, pondering how to navigate past the Church's promotion system. His first instinct was to go through the "Star General" Gardeleia and seek out the "Mysterious Queen" Bernadette, to learn where Obunis outside the Church's influence might be found. His second thought, however, was that this would pose a risk—since the corresponding Obunis monster might very well be a servant of the Queen, and would report everything it witnessed to its master. "Hmm. This will then be my last resort, should all else fail." Aljere's thoughts raced, and quickly formed a new plan—namely, to pray to the "Ace of Cups"! This revived presence subtly holds the original authority of the "Sea God" Cavitova, capable of summoning marine life—and perhaps even knows where to find Obunis, independent of any single power. "Don't worry. If we ascend now, the uncontrolled dispersion of spiritual essence will simply be visible to others. Wait until we've completed our duties, leave from Pasu Island, and then attempt the prayer..." Aljere calmed, recorded the "Song of the Sea" formula, and then brought the paper close to the flame at the candle's tip. As the flame consumed the formula faster and faster, Aljere's gaze grew deeper. Once all traces had been cleared, his eyes settled upon a sea chart, fixing on a specific location: Banxi! Aljere had originally planned to make a stop at Banxi en route back to Pasu Island, to check on the current state of the port. He has already communicated this idea to the sailors, and there has been no objection, as they too are curious about why Bances Harbor was suddenly destroyed and what it has become like now. PS: Updating at the usual early hour.