Who? Who is speaking? Caine's muscles went rigid, his eyelids nearly fluttering open. At that moment, cold sweat poured down his back, soaking through his shirt. What frightened him most wasn't the words themselves, but the fact that they resonated directly within his mind, matching the tone and pitch of his own unchanged voice. Though he had remained conscious throughout the dream, had the other's unstable mental state somehow contaminated his spiritual essence? Or was someone using that internal guard just now to communicate with him? A multitude of possibilities flashed through Caine's mind. Combining the content of the message with his current situation, he formed an initial judgment: Few people knew his identity, Caine Moretti; even fewer were aware that he had made his vows through direct contact with sacred objects. And there had been almost no overlap between the two groups. Mr. Azkirk has heard me recount that incident, yet he only needs to make a gentle reminder—have the messenger simply relay it—there's no need for such a dramatic approach... Wil. Oncetin might know, after all, as He is the "Mercury Serpent," the embodiment of Fate; yet the same reasoning applies—He could reach me directly. Of course, it's not impossible that He might suddenly wish to startle me—only this morning did I consider the possibility of becoming His godfather. Does the Antigonus family's journal, eroding the internal wardens, resemble the way it previously used the Fates' puppets to transmit symbols? But if so, why hasn't it simply provided me with the potion recipe? Or, they could negotiate a mutual "note escape plan"... Saint Samuel's Church is the headquarters of the Beckland diocese, superior in status to Saint Serenella's Church—so the note should have no capacity to take any further action; it must be tightly sealed and secured. Besides them, only one being is likely to be fully aware of both developments: the Night Goddess. Yet, with the pride of a deity, She has no need to feign being a mere bystander, nor to adopt a polite, detached tone when addressing herself. I am currently at Saint Samuel's Church—She would only need a single divine decree to summon dozens of extraordinary beings to overwhelm me. And here, as the diocesan headquarters, with proper preparation, the diocese itself is likely to interfere with the journey, making the situation far less complicated than it seems. Hmm. There's one other person who is fully aware of both matters... That is, myself! Before taking action, I actually did consider these issues back then, and my initial conclusion was that there was no need to worry much—after all, once I was elevated to the status of "Faceless," the gray mist began to gain a slight presence in the real world, allowing certain half-gods to sense my uniqueness. Prior to that, only exceptional beings who followed the "Monster" path could detect even a hint of my distinctiveness. And at the time I made the vow to the Sacred Sword, I had not yet become a "Clown." Even though the secret connections established by that vow gradually drew the attention of the goddess over time, no significant action has been taken so far. The female angel from the Church—yes, she is indeed an angel—after erasing Mr. A, even smiled at me. So perhaps the goddess is actually pleased that I've taken the Antigonus family's notes. Though I don't yet understand her reasons, given my current level, I can only accept this situation for now and address it later. That’s certainly safer than climbing the peak of the Honaquis mountain range. Of course, that depends on the woman who erased Mr. A being truly a Church angel. Well… Although during my "Face Just as Caine had thought this, the familiar yet foreign voice echoed once more in his mind: "Hm, you're far too idealistic. All your actions rest on luck. What if the senior steward, Kreishta Sessima, who wields the Holy Sword, comes to Beckland to handle another extraordinary case? Can you guarantee that when you're both in the same church, the Holy Sword won't sense you? After all, you're bound by a covenant!" Once Sessima arrives, I'll have to abandon this plan... and it's not impossible to preempt it either—just find a reason, an excuse, and go on an extended inspection trip." Caine murmured this to himself instinctively. Then, he heard his own voice speaking within his mind: "There are simply too many unforeseen and unpredictable circumstances. Didn't you also fail to anticipate that merely observing the 'Line of Spirits' would itself trigger a change?" My initial anxiety stemmed from the fear of unexpected changes, yet since my role was merely observational—no direct interaction with the other person—I didn’t feel it would pose a major issue. I just needed to remain a bit more cautious going forward… After all, unforeseen events and shifts were inevitable. Who exactly are you? Klein closed his eyes, appearing deeply focused in prayer. The voice hesitated slightly: “I’m Klein, and you’re Zhou Mingrui.” “No, I’m Zhou Mingrui, and you’re Klein…” Indeed—Klein felt his hairs stand on end once again. He decided immediately to leave Saint Samuel’s Church and return home to address his personality fragmentation. When the symptoms first emerged, things were still manageable. But once the personality stabilized and grew strong enough to begin asserting control over the body, external assistance might become necessary! He opened his eyes, calm and composed, and addressed the Bishop Elektra beside him: “I now feel completely at peace.” "Since I've been diagnosed with mental illness, I feel much better mentally... Speaking, Klein quietly mocked himself in his mind. He enjoyed internal monologues—not only due to his personality, but also to emphasize his presence, to stay aware of himself and avoid getting lost in the role. Bishop Elektra smiled, "The goddess is watching over you." As he spoke, he took a cup of water from the arriving priest and handed it to Dauin Tangtases. No explanation was needed; Klein knew it was holy water, something he had drunk before. He concealed his concern, calmly accepting the cup and drinking it all at once. The cool sensation flowed down his throat, invigorating him, as if sharpening his clarity—his mental fog seemed to lift, and the voice in his mind gradually faded. This has a soothing effect on the spirits... The Church does indeed value Doun. Taine, of course, thanks to their exceptional ones. While nodding slightly to Bishop Elektra, and drawing a crimson moon on his chest, Caine moved steadily toward the altar to donate fifty pounds in cash to the offering box. After completing this, he took his personal servant, Richard, and left the church, returning to Berkland Street by carriage. During this journey, he did not feed the white doves again, as the ordinary people he had encountered earlier found it difficult to muster the heart for such a task. Upon arriving home, Caine, who had remained silent throughout, used his excuse of a midday rest to send everyone away, then walked backward four steps into the main bedroom bathroom, stepping into the gray mist. Though he did not feel any sense of purification within himself as he passed through the cries and murmurs, he became increasingly certain that the voices in his mind originated from within himself—emerging as secondary personalities triggered by the contamination. Sitting down at the high-backed chair of the "Fool," Caine immediately assessed the state of his spiritual form and discovered that it indeed bore certain signs of disorder—far from pure—and that the corresponding aura colors were slightly blurred. After carefully considering for two minutes, ignoring the persistent noise echoing in his mind, Caine manifested "World" Germaine Sparrow and asked him to pray sincerely: "Esteemed Sir 'Fool'... kindly convey to 'The Moon' that I would like to rent the 'Heart's Torment Candle' for half a day. I know he has the means to obtain it..." Originally, the identity of "World" was created specifically for Sherlock Moriarty, so Caine had no concerns about this matter. P.S.: Continuing meetings, with fewer words == post-update, then revise.