The three types of paper in "Lymanno's Travel Notes" differ noticeably in texture. Only the white paper from sequences 7, 8, and 9 has a smooth, thin surface. The yellow-brown vellum from sequences 6 and 5 feels like cured leather—firm and supple, capable of recording the divine. The three thicker, more substantial pages of the deep golden paper, which convey a sense of sacredness, are particularly substantial and textured; one can distinguish them effectively not by sight, but simply through quick tactile contact. Crane's fingers swiftly located these three thick, substantial sheets and gently grasped the middle one. Although the inner pocket was not large enough to fully open the "Lymanno's Travel Notes," the long cloak with a hood that Foulis himself had modified still provided sufficient space, allowing the compact magic book to unfold to nearly 90 degrees. Klein kept his palm pressed against the book, preventing it from closing, while he slid his fingers across the surface of the corresponding page. He felt a subtle texture, allowing the strange patterns and symbols—laden with mystery and antiquity—to emerge directly into his mind through touch. Spirit flowed into him. The yellowed page recorded a semi-divine ability of the "Storm" path: "Tornado!" With this, Klein intended to create chaos, disrupting any possible hidden observers among the Aurora Circle saints, enabling him to strike down Mr. X and then flee the scene on the wind. Beyond this immediate goal, the chaos would effectively conceal traces, scattering the gathering members and leaving them disoriented and in disorder. In their uncertain identities, each would become suspect, making it difficult for the Aurora Circle to trace the movements of Xu. As his thoughts settled, Klein's gaze fixed on a specific spot, and with his left hand, he slowly withdrew the "Travel Notes of Leimannno." At the same time, Mr. X took two brisk steps to join him, aligning themselves in the same direction—like old friends who had not seen each other for years. Immediately, a deep, resonant sound erupted, and a visibly terrifying hurricane spiraled and coiled around the spot where Celine had spiritually designated it. The tables, side tables, sofas, and high-back chairs were lifted into the air. The violent whirlwind cracked the walls, tore off the roof, and surged toward the alley entrance, carrying the guests of the gathering with it. Some were tossed into the air, suspended in the wind's path, while others stumbled forward under the force of the wind, rushing toward safety. Had Celine not carefully controlled the timing and trajectory of the storm, not only would the old house where Mr. X was located be destroyed, but the row of apartment buildings beside it would also be severely damaged. The guests would have been swept away entirely, their survival entirely dependent on luck. The sound of the wind grew turbulent, and the tornado rising straight toward the sky resembled a monstrous giant, staggering toward the alley's mouth, then progressing toward the street. Everywhere it passed, the ground remained pristine, untouched by any trace of debris. Klein was likewise thrown into the air, along with Mr. X, who was haunted by spectral presence, and both were carried to another street. Because their initial positions had been close and the spectral entity could hover, maintaining a certain degree of control over the bodies of its targets at the periphery of the tornado, the distance between Klein and Mr. X remained within five meters throughout this process, with the manipulation of the "spiritual thread" never ceasing. Floating in the air, with the wind roaring at his ears, Klein suddenly grasped his chest with his right hand, tearing through the surface of his long, hooded coat and reaching into his armpit to withdraw the left-hand revolver, "The Bell of Doom." Though X, in his current state, could be dispatched even by air bullets, Caine still decided to proceed with caution, fearing that the magical items held by the other might have passive effects—much like Senyor's necklace. Hunt with full determination! As Caine vigorously drew his gun, the influence of his manipulation over the "Spiritual Thread" became noticeably disrupted. Had X not already been approaching complete control, this single action alone would have restored his basic awareness. Nevertheless, X's thoughts no longer remained as rigid; they began to stir and grow more active. He struggled, only for a brief moment to find his efforts stiffen and contradict themselves once again, as the "spirit of resentment" Senyor reasserted its hold. Then, images emerged within X's pupils—of the enemy falling across the field, of a lean face half revealed, with clear, defined contours. In his gaze, the opponent coldly cocked the hammer of his gun and aimed the dark barrel directly at him. Bang! Cain didn't hesitate—he pulled the trigger, and the roar of the gunshot was swallowed by the wind. Mr. X's head snapped back as if pressed by an invisible hand against his face. His head, his brass mask, split into countless fragments, splashing with red and white fluids, scattering in every direction. One shot—fatal! The bell of doom rang for him. Thump! After firing, Cain landed on his back, crashing to the street. Thump! Mr. X fell beside him, and the splattered blood and fragments that had scattered in midair flowed strangely backward, gathering at his neck to form a head marred with cracks and fissures. This was the power of the vengeful spirit. At that moment, the wind vortex, losing its cohesion, began to unravel, and the tremendous commotion was undoubtedly noticed by the distant half-gods. Inside the Saint Wind Cathedral, the newly appointed Archbishop of Beckland, "Deep Blue High Priest" Radel Valentin, instantly launched himself from the room and floated upward. Seeing the wind pressure had weakened, Klein, who had fallen to the ground, grasped his "Hourglass" revolver in one hand and held his "Leyman's Travel Notes" in the other, preparing to turn the book to the first page of the yellow-brown vellum. Upon receiving this magical tome, he realized that several existing pages already contained references to the "Gate of the Traveler." Klein had initially thought it a coincidence, but after careful reflection, he came to believe it was inevitable—since the "Leyman's Travel Notes" belonged to the ancient Leyman family, which held the path of the "Apprentice" and numerous corresponding magical artifacts. They not only had the resources but also the inclination to document the abilities of the "Traveler," as such knowledge was exceptionally valuable. At this moment, as soon as the "Traveler's Gate" takes shape, Caine can calmly depart with the body of Mr. X, who is possessed by the spirit of Senior, in his arms. He had previously stayed indoors because there was a possibility that the Saint of the Aurora Order, undisturbed by the aurora, might detect and interrupt the process. Moreover, since Mr. X is a "Traveler," there was a chance he could use the "Gate of Transmission" to escape his predicament before he died completely—so Caine didn't want to risk it until then. One after another, silver serpents materialized, weaving and surging through the darkness, illuminating everything in their path. "Lightning storm!" The once-solid blackness shattered, and Klein, without hesitation, slid his right hand—holding the left-hand revolver, the "Tomb Bell"—into the dark pouch, gripping the dark, smoldered stone now stained with burn marks. "Gate!" he murmured, in ancient Hermes. A pale blue radiance burst forth, blurring Klein's form swiftly, and so too did the body of Mr. X, who had clung to his shoulder, now undergoing the same transformation. The two figures became transparent, vanishing instantly, swiftly retreating through the vivid, overlapping realm of the spirit world, skillfully disengaging. In the alleyway, now transformed into a level space, where wooden fragments, stones, cloth strips, and other debris had scattered, shadows remained in the deeper corners. Someone there sighed softly: "Damn it!" At this moment, the other attendees of the gathering had already fled down the street, and a sonic boom echoed from the distance. ........ The ones searching for spirits in the eastern district, Hui and Forse, were startled by the suddenly bright sky and hurried to look toward the distant horizon, where they saw a blossoming silver-white forest. The twisted form and the fierce atmosphere made them tremble even from afar, nearly unable to meet each other's eyes. "What on earth is happening here?" Hui murmured, while Forse glanced at her, and she at him, both looking utterly puzzled. Forse had a hunch in her mind, yet she couldn't quite believe it, as this completely surpassed the strength level she had always envisioned for the world of Gorman Sparrow! ........ Inside a lane without any lights, Caine appeared out of nowhere, carrying the body of Mr. X, and gently settled it onto the ground. He showed no signs of慌乱. First, he left the "Bell of Death" revolver in the inner pocket, then, with his right hand, drew out another book from his chest: *The Travels of Grollese*! Clap! Kline slammed this "Fictional Dragon" travelogue, written by Angerwede, directly onto Mr. X's face, smearing blood across the cover. A moment later, Mr. X's body vanished, leaving behind only Senyore, the "Spirit" wearing an old triangular hat and a dark red coat. Immediately thereafter, Kline closed *The Travels of Grollese* and opened *Leymann's Travel Notes*, placing the next yellowed page face-up. Suddenly, a brilliant light burst from the book, and a translucent angel with twelve pairs of wings rose gently, settling upon Kline. All this passed in an instant, and the alley once again returned to deep darkness, illuminated only by the faint, silent moonlight. Klein then produced another small metal bottle, poured out the stored blood, and evenly applied it to the cover of "Leymanno's Travel Notes." After completing this, he gathered up his other belongings, removed his cloak with the hood, and casually shook it aside. A vibrant crimson flame instantly rose, completely burning the worn garments to ash. At the same time, Klein grew silently by ten centimeters, his appearance now quite ordinary. Then, using the stars in the sky to orient himself, and picking up a fallen branch for assistance, he soon crossed several dark, decaying streets and reached back to the modest inn where he had stayed earlier. Until then, he had no awareness of any new vulnerabilities. In the single room of the modest inn, Klein changed into his own clothes, returning to his identity as Germain Spaulo. Gazing at the mirror, at the lean, stern face of the passionate adventurer, he remained silent for a few seconds, then picked up his half-high silk hat and placed it upon his head. … ... Above the houses that had become flat ground, the storm-teacher cardinal who had failed to catch any mice, Bishop Radul Valentine of the Beckett diocese, remained silent, gazing downward without speaking for a long time. ... ... At 160 Berkland Street, the butler Walter looked slightly surprised at the visitor outside. "Your Excellency, you've come unexpectedly—what is it?" Bishop Elektra chuckled. "I heard that Doun was ill, so I came to visit him. Perhaps under the protection of the goddess, he will recover soon."