Walter went to the third floor and curled his fingers, knocking gently on the door of the master bedroom. "Who?" a slightly weak and hoarse voice from Dautreuil Tangé answered. Walter turned the handle and pushed the door open a crack. "Mr. The Bishop of Elektra is visiting you. Shall we have him come to the living room or the sitting room, or would you like him to come directly to the bedroom?" Normally, guests are not permitted to enter a host's bedroom—this would be considered quite impolite—except in cases of illness. After a brief silence, Dautreuil Tangé replied, "Have him come to the bedroom." "Very well, sir." Walter indicated to Richardson to prompt the maid to prepare tea, then proceeded down the stairs, guiding the Bishop of the Night Church, Elektra, up to the room. Soon, Elektra entered the bedroom and saw Dautreuil Tangé lying on the bed, somewhat worn out. "Richardson, bring the Bishop a chair," Dautreuil Tangé smiled slightly, his face pale. Richardson had already been ready, moving a high-backed chair to a spot not far from the bed. Elektra stepped forward, examined the newcomer's face, and asked with concern, "Dawn, how are you feeling? Shall I call in the internist?" Since his inspiration hadn't yet struck, he made no further attempts—this was simply the usual, thoughtful visit of a devoted parishioner. Dawn Tancrède cleared his throat and smiled, "I'm actually feeling much better. I think I'll be able to return to church, to hear your sermons, by tomorrow or the day after." "That's wonderful," Elektra replied, chuckling, and stepped back to take a seat on the chair Richardson had brought. At that moment, Dawn Tancrède glanced at the bishop and smiled, "I've actually had a question for some time now: can the clergy of the goddess's church marry?" "Electra, who was still two years short of forty, sighed and smiled. "This issue has actually troubled us for a long time. In several ancient theological conferences, the bishops engaged in heated debates. One side maintained that the servants of the goddess must remain pure—regardless of gender—otherwise it would constitute a profanation of the divine; the other side cited passages from texts such as the 'Apocalypse of the Night,' finding the goddess's own words encouraging marriage and balanced, normal interactions between the sexes, and asserting that clergy should serve as models rather than counterexamples—this, they believed, was the truest form of reverence to the goddess. In more recent times, the matter has largely been set aside. The Church neither prohibits nor actively encourages marriage among its clergy, with the only stipulation being that after marriage, clergy members should not allow their families to reside within the church premises." Dawn Thénard listened attentively, nodding slowly and with a slight upward curve of his lips. "Bishop, do you have a wife?" The bishop of Elektra, with a slender face and an appearance that wasn't particularly striking but somehow always felt pleasant, sighed with a smile that was hard to conceal. "Two years ago, under the witness of the goddess, I married. This year, I've welcomed a child into the family. I had originally intended to remain single, devoted solely to the goddess. Yet..." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head with a touch of self-mockery. Before Doun Thantès could delve deeper into this topic, the bishop interjected, "You seem to be single as well—have you been considering marriage?" It seemed he had assumed that Doun Thantès was contemplating such a step, and thus treated the answer as settled, shifting the focus to ask, "What kind of woman do you find appealing? Perhaps I can recommend someone suitable." Dunstan Thorne cleared his throat lightly and smiled, saying, "In the past, to accumulate wealth, I always chose ventures that involved risk, so I've been reluctant to marry, fearing I might burden my partner. Honestly, I like many types—far from picky. I particularly admire women who are a few years older than me, who bring warmth and comfort, giving me a sense of security..." As he spoke, his personal male servant, Richardson, suddenly froze mid-sentence, then turned his gaze toward the side, lowering his head with growing discomfort, his face suddenly feeling unusually warm and flushed. Dunstan Thorne remained unaware, continuing, "And I also find women who are much younger than me—innocent, lively, and full of energy—so refreshing that seeing them feels like stepping into a morning, invigorating and full of vitality." At this, the Bishop of Elektra's smile froze, and he raised his hand, clenched it into a fist, and pressed it to his mouth, clearing his throat twice. Dawn Thantès didn’t stop. He shook his head, sighed, and smiled. "I’ve known women—once in love or married—who, due to their status and position, were too distant for others to approach, only able to admire them from afar. I found them utterly captivating; every gesture, every movement, enchanted me, leaving me utterly entranced, often dreaming of them…" The butler, Walter, standing nearby, suddenly trembled, as though just awakened from a dream he didn’t want to wake up from—one that was so vivid and intense he couldn’t clearly distinguish whether it was good or bad. Dawn Thantès continued speaking, yet once his mouth opened, no sound came out. He then chuckled softly, saying, "This is entirely normal. Human beings are limited by their bodies and influenced by all their senses, so they often experience unusual thoughts. As long as one can manage these impulses, act according to their own will, and doesn’t find it burdensome, they remain a good husband, a good father, and a good man." "Most insightful—when we're angry, we often have irrational thoughts, yet few ever turn those thoughts into reality," the Bishop skillfully diverted the conversation, and both the butler Walter and the personal servant Richardsson soon exchanged thoughtful expressions. The Bishop didn't linger long, sipped a few cups of the Duchess's Earl Tea brought by the maid, and then rose to depart from the Dowager Thonstad's manor. The room quickly settled into quiet, and the window on the balcony opened silently, allowing the slender figure of Clain, once again assuming the appearance of Dowager Thonstad, to glide in. Luckily I arrived in time. If Arodés, the Magic Mirror, had kept talking like this, Bishop Elektra would no longer recognize me as a devout believer. Perhaps by morning tomorrow, people would discover Walter and Richardson hanged in their rooms, and the whole neighborhood would be whispering that Daven Tholès is a pornophile. Caine glanced at the fake Daven, real mirror on the bed, and sighed silently—having personally drafted the answers for the latter part of the conversation, and had Arodés recite them verbatim. Of course, this was his worst-case scenario; he believed Arodés wouldn’t let things escalate to that extent. "Welcome back, my noble lord," Daven Tholès on the bed bowed and greeted. "Your humble servant Arodés, may I say, has done quite well?" Hearing Arodés stammering his questions, Caine sighed again. "It's acceptable—your impersonation is quite good. Just try not to unsettle the guests during the conversation. "Me, I'll keep that in mind!" The image of D'Artagnan quickly faded, and a small mirror appeared on the pillow. Upon the mirror, a shimmer of silver instantly burst forth, flowing and coalescing into words: "Thank you for your confidence. I will always follow your path, and look forward to the next opportunity to serve you." A simple line drawing of a farewell gesture appeared before the mirror returned to normal. Cain stepped closer, tucked the mirror away, and then entered the adjacent bathroom of the master bedroom. Taking four steps backward, he reached the gray mist. He needed to complete the pastoral duties before X's spirit fully dissolved. ... Inside the book world, atop a snow-covered mountain, within a cave. Cain examined the body of X on the ground, carefully comparing the reconstructed head composed of fragments with the portrait of the target provided by the "Magician" lady he remembered. "It's him... who hopes this time to secure either 'travel' or 'recording'—with one of those, the mission is already a success. If neither is achieved, then the 'Sorceress' will have to be charged extra. Hunting a sequence 5 and facing a demigod are entirely different challenges." While thinking this, Kline extended his left hand, spread his fingers, and directed them at the corpse whose spiritual essence had not yet fully dispersed. The "Thriving Hunger" swiftly reverted to its original state, appearing as if made of thin human skin, with two eyes forming at the palm—red pupils, as if stained with blood. Amid the bone-chilling wind, the fading spiritual essence and the brilliant, star-like points of extraordinary light that had once connected to X先生 gradually seeped into the "Thriving Hunger" and settled onto the blank finger. The "Thriving Hunger" first became transparent, like a reflection from the spiritual realm, then resumed its normal form. Kline closed his eyes, sensing the change, and his brows gradually relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. He was truly fortunate this time, drawing one of the most coveted extraordinary abilities: "The Traveler's Gate!" It could simply be referred to as "The Gateway," "Teleportation," or "Travel." This ability enables individuals to traverse between the spiritual realms, sensing and navigating the external environment that can self-locate. The effectiveness, duration, and distance of such spiritual journeys vary significantly depending on the strength of the spiritual bodies of the extraordinary beings—different sequences can endure varying lengths of transit. For instance, if only sequences 9 and 8 are involved, the journey remains within the Bekland region. As for my current level, I'm not certain whether I could directly reach the original island offered by Mr. The Hangman—though if that proves impossible, I could always make the trip in two or three segments. Klein smiled to himself as he thought about it. Only now did he realize that the "Traveler's" frontline combat prowess was truly formidable, since the difficulty of his short-range "travel" maneuvers was only comparable to feats like "Flame Leap." This meant the "Traveler" could continuously dart around his target, able to either close in or retreat at will, making him both elusive and impossible to land attacks on. Combined with his well-documented abilities and his instinct to swiftly retreat when things went awry, Kline began to doubt that even with his "Lightning Storm" and "Tornado," he could hold his own against the "Traveler" in direct combat. Indeed, the "Master of Secret Figures" should ideally remain behind the scenes. While marveling at this, Kline turned his gaze back to Mr. X's body. ——Just moments ago, the "Craving of Movement" had acquired an exceptional ability: a "Scholar's" level "Door Opening," which effectively weakened his mobility but offered little strategic value. As his eyes shifted, Kline's gaze caught the emerald-cut ruby ring worn on Mr. X's hand.