Viscount Steward... Lord Steward of the Royal Court... From this position, it's clear that there is indeed a faction within the Royal Court behind the Beckland smog crisis; who exactly that is, remains to be investigated. For now, Caine cannot spare the time to verify Trist's response and can only ask Senior, "You managed to share such clear clues so effortlessly—this genuinely surprises me." Trist replied with a mixture of scorn and self-mockery: "Because this is actually a good thing for me. It's evident that you and the power you represent are deeply interested in uncovering the true intentions of the Royal Court and the hidden players. If I can provide effective leads that spark conflict between you and them, bringing the real schemers to light, I would be delighted. This would not only advance my own cause of vengeance, but also serve as a tremendous advantage." According to this logic, does it also imply that I can use you—to drive you to investigate this matter, to uncover the true mastermind behind the scenes—so that my own power remains safely concealed and secure until I gain access to solid intelligence? Hmm, wasn’t that precisely what Tristess just said—guiding me toward a limited collaboration with her, willingly stepping in as the “clearing agent” to reveal the truth? She has now demonstrated her value as a means to my ends. She fears that I will ultimately decide to kill her. Roughly grasping Tristess’s true intent, Caine maneuvered the “ghostly spirits” to say: “That makes perfect sense. I should indeed take this course of action. I don’t need to threaten or entice you—I believe, once your injuries have healed, you’ll naturally begin reaching out to Viscount Stedford.” Tristess gave a slight upward curve to her lips: “All I hope for is that he doesn’t find men particularly appealing.” "That isn't impossible to resolve either. If you already have Sequence 5, you might consider switching to Sequence 4, 'Ironblood Knight,' under the Hunter path. Have you forgotten your own past self? Why are you increasingly relying on the abilities of the 'Joyful Muse' to handle men? Klein muttered under his breath, prompting a chuckle from Senior. 'That's not an issue at all—show him some photos from your earlier days.' Trish paused, her expression slightly distorted as though a deep-seated sense of shame had been unearthed and exposed to the sunlight. The delicate fire in her eyes flared with indignation, and the pale complexion from injury instantly turned crimson. Trish quickly composed herself, exhaled softly, and said in a low, steady voice, 'Indeed, you're no ordinary 'Blood Above the Field'—you clearly have a deep understanding of the Muse's path." She hadn't been certain at all. I'd assumed there was some collaboration between the Sorcerer's Order and the Rose Order, so she believed the "Lady of the Blood" would know the secrets of the "Assassin" path—hence, her little joke. Still, it wasn't very good to mock someone's gender. Well, that actually did fit the "Lady of the Blood" persona quite well. One of the Master of the Secret Dolls' tenets was: "Remember, every doll has its own setting." When Trish mentioned the old photographs earlier, it seemed she simply wanted to express her joy and excitement at having finally defeated a long-time rival—she hadn't particularly focused on the specific details described. Klein nodded thoughtfully, steering the conversation with Senyor: "By now, I've come to know quite a few hidden things." He didn't pursue the topic further, but instead asked, "How shall I reach you? During your investigation of the Viscount of Steward, I might be able to assist you." Tris reached toward her ears, plucked a handful of smooth, jet-black hair, and then coalesced the pale, deep-blue ice into a slender strand. She immediately spread her palm, palm-up, allowing a silent, black flame to rise from the tips of the hair strands, burning each one to ash. These ashes, untouched by the cold breeze from the drains, contracted inward and gathered into a thick, paste-like mass. "Spread this evenly across the mirror," she said, "and I'll know you've come for me. I'll use that mirror to communicate with you afterward." With a flick of her wrist, Tris tossed the paste-like mass toward Senior, the one known as "Blood Above." "This should last about five uses—more than enough." Since Senior was merely a minor figure, Caine had no concern that he might accidentally catch the dark, viscous mass and merely glanced at it before tucking it into his coat pocket. Tris remained silent for a few seconds, then bit her lip. "If I need some assistance, how should I reach you?" That was a question... Kline really wanted the other person to simply summon the messenger, Lady Renette Tynicol, right away. After all, once Tris inquired about the current status of the "General of Blood," she would inevitably discover that this restless spirit was actually hiding behind Germain Spalro—something that would be hard to conceal. After a moment's thought, however, he decided to remain cautious, believing it would be perfectly fine to adjust the method of contact once Tris actually uncovered the truth. After all, this wasn't someone he could fully trust. Though she may have genuine intentions in seeking justice for Prince Edsak, her motives were likely also driven by personal ambitions—perhaps even a desire for her own revenge. Kline then asked Senior to take a moment and survey the surroundings. "This underground passage holds many secrets. I come here often. You can leave any assistance you need in writing here." "If things are urgent and you don't have time to attend personally, you can reach out to the one I just spoke with and ask him to leave a message here." Trish nodded slowly. "Good." When the conversation had settled, Caine prepared to send the secret figure, Senior, on his way. As his gaze swept over Trish's hands, however, he noticed that the sapphire ring—equal in significance to a Level 0 seal—was gone! I had noticed it earlier, thinking she might have switched hands or fingers, but it was actually missing. This suggests that her escape from Prince Edzask's Rose Estate, breaking free from the control of Inz. Zangewell and "0–08," came at a considerable cost. Has the mark left by the "Primordial Witch" also vanished? Caine thought for a moment, then smiled gently at the "General of Blood" Senior. "There's one more matter. To which dark deity did you sell your soul?" Tiris gazed deeply at the middle-aged man before her and said, "The Primordial Witch." ... Didn't you once want to escape that odd state? Didn't you wish to grow ever less like yourself? Now you're turning around? Didn't you know that they renamed you Tiris Chik specifically to make you the vessel of the Primordial Witch? No, she didn't know that at all—she even didn't understand the significance of the name "Chik." Having struggled so hard to break free from fate, she was now even more deeply woven into it. At this moment, Kline felt an unexpected fear toward fate and the gods. He managed to smile at Senior and said, "It's hard for me to believe that you answer so easily." Tiris' eyes grew slightly misty, and she chuckled with a touch of self-mockery. "Because this is a question for me, not a secret. The more people who know, the greater the hope of solving it—though that hope may be faint, it's still better than having none." "While solving problems, you're likely to be eliminated as well," Caine didn't elaborate, but thoughtfully added, "When you approach the Viscount of Stedford and those figures operating behind the scenes, pay attention to whether you frequently encounter coincidences." The deeper he investigates the great smog event in Beckland, the more likely he becomes to draw the attention of Inz. Zangewell and '0–08.' "Coincidences..." Trish paused, repeating the word. At that moment, memories surfaced of the coincidences she had experienced at the Red Rose Manor. As her thoughts raced, she suddenly looked up, only to find that the 'Blood Above the Blood,' Senior, wearing a dark red coat and an old triangular hat, had already vanished from the opposite side. ... The next morning at dawn, Caine rose promptly and dressed in his coat with the help of his personal butler, Richard. As he entered the dining hall, he saw Walter standing at the door, respectfully waiting. "Mr. Kline, your plans today are primarily centered around attending the afternoon tea at Mr. Mahert's home." Walter, diligent as always, gently reminded his employer. As formal and precise as ever, he showed no sign of having visited the sewer tunnels during the night before. Kline smiled and nodded, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred: "I haven't forgotten." He then entered the dining room and began to enjoy the still decent but increasingly repetitive food. The breakfast had lacked variety... Kline ate thoughtfully, set down his knife and fork, and sighed: "I'm beginning to miss home. Let's have a Daisy tart prepared for tomorrow morning." "Yes, sir. I should have thought of that earlier." The housekeeper, Tania, responded with a touch of apology. Kline waved her off, indicating she need not worry, and then took a walk through the garden. After completing these tasks, he returned to the third floor to read the remaining newspapers until Miss Wahana, the etiquette teacher, arrived. Wahana remained elegantly dressed and gracefully smiled at Dautremer Thonard, saying, "I heard you're going to Lady Liyan's for afternoon tea today—then today's lesson will focus on afternoon tea etiquette..." Klein maintained a warm smile, listened attentively, and occasionally asked questions. Twenty minutes later, the butler Walter entered and announced, "Mr. Thonard, the servant from the Mahert Member's household just informed me that today's afternoon tea has been canceled due to Miss Hayourel, Lady Liyan's daughter, falling ill. They are most sorry and hope to invite you again next week." Had Hayourel been unwell? Due to the shock from last night's incident? For an ordinary person, this is quite possible—but for an exceptional one, especially one with extraordinary physical prowess, the likelihood is quite slim. Moreover, Hairel has clearly not yet witnessed the unpredictable transformations brought about by magic potions, and her mental state remains healthy, allowing her to maintain a sense of superiority and composure, even if startled—she hasn’t developed any psychological ailments. Ailments… Indeed, a Sequence 5 Mage of the Witch Path can infect those around her with illness. Last night, Tiris noticed strangers entering the sewer system and subtly spread the illness—yet the "specter" state of Senior is immune to such infections, so I hadn’t detected it. This is not a serious issue; Hairel hasn’t been exposed to the illness for long, and her delayed recovery is merely due to the initial shock. It seems Tiris has truly advanced to Sequence 5. Klein nodded gently: "Please extend my greetings to Miss Hairel."