In the midst of his sighs, Caine allowed himself to relax, settling into the rare peace and comfort of his dreams like a normal person. About a minute later, he finally waited for the church extraordinary to leave his dreams. "Finally... I can sleep soundly..." Caine had intended to open his eyes habitually and fall back asleep, but he found that once he no longer needed to remain highly alert and vigilant, he could simply sink into deep sleep, carried by the lingering tranquility of the dream. That night, his sleep was exceptionally restful—he slept through until dawn, when the sun rose and the crimson moon still hung in the sky, the heavens glowing softly with a gentle breeze. Caine lingered in a drowsy state for nearly ten minutes before reaching for the golden-case pocket watch resting on the nightstand, clicking it open and glancing at the time. "Just past six thirty-five... Should I roll over and continue sleeping, or should I get up now?" Klein assessed his own condition and found himself mentally alert, energetic, with no sense of fatigue. He rose, took a shower, and walked to the balcony, gazing at the orange and red hues of the horizon. In this season, Beckland is generally mild in its fog due to prevailing winds, and with several months of ongoing air pollution control efforts, the sky now shines clear and the air is fresh. Gardeners are tending to their plots, while the kitchen maid and the kitchen steward set out together for the market. Beyond them, the neighborhood is peaceful and serene—this calmness lifted Klein's spirits, momentarily dissolving all his worries and leaving him with a profound sense of belonging, as if the world belonged solely to him at that very moment. He smiled gently, quietly savoring the scene. Within the next half-hour, one by one, the homes around him began to see two or three servants emerge—some carrying baskets, others leading horses—and the entire street gradually came to life, the sunlight growing brighter and more vibrant. "This is exactly how life should be..." Klein murmured silently, suddenly feeling a strong urge to go for a walk. He turned around from the balcony, walked to the door, and turned the handle. Outside his master bedroom, Richardson had already been waiting there, making it impossible to guess when he had risen. It was one of the most demanding aspects of a personal servant's duties—to wake up earlier than the employer and sleep later. Richardson never asked why Monsieur Dantès had suddenly risen so early. "No need to rush," Klein chuckled. "I'd like to go for a walk first." "Very well, sir." Richardson entered the bedroom and, following Klein's preference, selected and helped him put on his coat. Finally, Klein adjusted his silk hat, took his gold-handled cane, descended to the first floor, and stepped out of the door, walking slowly along the sidewalk lined with the Intis elms and black gas lamps, toward the other end of the street. Along the way, each house emitted a delicate fragrance from its garden, while the green leaves high above created a serene atmosphere. The pedestrians moved in small groups, sparse and unhurried, and occasionally a passing carriage broke the quiet before swiftly disappearing. Cain savored the morning ambiance, relished the beauty of waking early, and felt the lingering traces of yesterday's negative emotions gradually evaporating, fading away. Hmm, extraordinary beings must learn to actively create conditions and regulate their mood... With this simple walk, the bishops of Saint-Semar's Church should now know that Daven Tan-Tsai has fully recovered and will no longer disturb my sleep at night. As his thoughts drifted, his gaze casually swept over No. 39 Berkland Street. It was the residence of the Member of Parliament, Mahet. The building's exterior was composed of sharp, long iron rods, allowing passersby to peer through the gaps and enjoy the beauty of the garden within. As his gaze moved, Klein spotted a familiar figure—Hayouru, with her long green hair and deep brown eyes, the graceful and proud young woman walking along the garden path with her maid, occasionally glancing left and right. She also rose so early? Given that he'd been unable to reach the sewers at night, her sleep quality must be excellent. Klein muttered this under his breath, then turned his attention and stepped forward. Glancing at Richard standing steadily behind him, Klein suddenly recalled the recent news reports, magazine columns, and novel stories he'd been reading about the southern continent. — He had been deliberately engaging with content in this domain to enrich the character of Doun Thantès. After all, much of his earlier knowledge about the southern continent had stemmed from pirates, adventurers, and the foremost hunter of the Mist Sea, Anderson—only to wonder whether any of it might have been exaggerated or fabricated. The materials I've read in the past and recently all describe individuals—specifically, certain people—who went to the Southern Continent, made substantial fortunes, and returned, or even settled there permanently. Honestly, this has led the entire population of Beckland to believe that the Southern Continent is rich with gold and full of opportunities for sudden wealth. Even common trees there have their sap with various medicinal or commercial uses, capable of fetching large sums in gold pounds—hence, the kingdom frequently goes to war with nations like Fsaak and Intis to seize colonial territories. If the common people hadn't been unable to raise sufficient funds for passage or had been too hesitant to embark on sea voyages, a much larger population would have already migrated there. Cleverly shifting his thoughts, the lord casually asked his personal servant, "In your mind, what does the Southern Continent look like?" He remembered that Richardson was born in a manor there and only later brought to Beckland. After a moment of silence, Richardson replied, "Sir, I actually know relatively little about the Southern Continent, as I've spent most of my time busy within the manor, rarely having the opportunity to travel beyond it." "Just share your genuine impression—don't worry about anything. I simply want to get a general sense of it. As everyone believes I'm an expert on the Southern Continent, my own experiences have actually been limited to just a few places and the merchant class." Kline chuckled. Richardson slowly lowered his head, gazing at the tips of his advancing feet. "My impression of the Southern Continent is: hunger, exhaustion, pain, and a yearning for the world beyond death..." Hunger, exhaustion, pain—Kline repeated these words silently, walking steadily down the streets of Burkleund, without asking any further questions. She had originally planned to come on Tuesday afternoon, but Professor Michelle Deitert was attending an academic conference in Beekland and wouldn't return until today, so she had to reschedule. "These boots were discovered by a farmer near Storn by a ruin in the mountains; their shape aligns well with the trends of the Fourth Period society," Michelle introduced the items in the glass display case to the graceful and elegant young woman. Audrey looked over with interest and noticed the tips of the boots were noticeably curled upward, as if belonging to a clown. The height of the curl on each side was inconsistent—one by three centimeters, the other by five—suggesting they were not a matched pair. The asymmetrical style of the Fourth Period... which one represented the higher class, left at three centimeters or right at five? Audrey turned her gaze away and followed Professor Deitert to the next exhibit. After viewing all the displays, Michelle pointed to a glass case slightly ahead. "This seal was just delivered a few days ago; it relates to an ancient dragon cult." "The dragon... Audrey stepped forward with grace, drawing near to see that the emblem was engraved with a gray-white great dragon spread out in flight. 'Where does it come from?' Audrey asked, as always, without any change in tone. Michel replied, 'A village called Hédralak. The word Hédralak doesn't have an original form in ancient Fossac; it seems to have been spelled out directly based on its pronunciation.' Hédralak... that's the village I visited previously, where the people have a tradition of venerating dragons—deep within their collective unconscious, there lives a dragon of the mind. The twenty-year war notes I received from Associate Professor Michel belong to a knight named 'Lindriela' from that village, someone who is believed to have been connected to that mental dragon. Audrey nodded thoughtfully, pausing to choose her words, as if preparing to ask who had discovered this emblem." At that moment, Associate Professor Michelle's expression grew unusually grave. "The discovery of this seal was accompanied by a tragedy." "A tragedy?" Audrey couldn't conceal her astonishment. Professor Michelle exhaled and said, "An archaeological team entered the village to study the traditions of dragon worship. One of their members went mad overnight, and this mental illness seemed contagious—eventually, every member of the team became insane. They killed one another or committed suicide; none of them survived. This seal was found among their personal belongings. It was first taken by the police for examination, and only after it was confirmed safe was it donated to us." An archaeological team entered the village, and one member after another fell ill—Audrey's eyes slightly widened as she mentally repeated Professor Michelle's words. Suddenly, an idea flashed through her mind: the Psychological Alchemy Circle! The members of this archaeological team were all part of the Psychological Alchemy Circle! ps: To be posted first, then revised.