"We've got you..." Invisible threads extended forth with Pannatia's words, swiftly coiling around Germain Spalro's body as if to encase him in a silken cocoon. At that moment, the figure dressed in a black clerical robe suddenly thinned and shrunk, transforming into a paper figure stained with "rust." Meanwhile, Caine's form emerged outside the gray-white mill, rushing desperately toward the heart of the town. Having witnessed the true form of the "Eternal Sun" survive, Caine possessed a natural resilience against the spiritual shock and loss of control caused by mythic beings. Moreover, Pannatia was not a complete mythic entity, so even without the support of the gray mist's power, Caine quickly regained his composure, overcoming the mental fragmentation that would otherwise have paralyzed him. As he sensed the illness creeping into him without realizing it, he allowed himself to collapse, using intense coughing as a cover to activate his "paper man" substitute! — The mannequins were no magical artifacts, nor did they possess any spirit at all, so Caine had no concern that they would provoke an overreaction from the sealing core behind the Charnis Gate. He carried several with him. As Caine began to run swiftly, he sharply rubbed his right thumb and middle finger together, igniting the flour stacked in the mill! Boom! The flames erupted, causing a dust explosion that launched the stone mill into the air, uprooted the windmill outside, and gradually shattered Pannatia’s form—layer by layer—into countless crimson fragments, as though she had merely been a mirror. Almost simultaneously, a figure in a pure white robe appeared behind Caine, her loose hair crown instantly flung open and wildly spreading forward. Tap! Klein snapped his fingers, igniting the leaves beside the path, and guided "The Blood-Soaked General" Senyor to materialize beside the two-story residential building adjacent to Panatia, using the "Mirror Leap." Then he attempted to project his image into the eyes of the striking yet terrifying woman, completing the "Wraith Enchantment." With a sudden surge, the crimson flame leapt upward, enveloping Klein and carrying him away from his original position—now appearing within a blaze several dozen meters away—while Panatia's eyes, like precious stones, seemed to hold countless mirrors, each reflecting a figure in an old triangular hat and a deep red coat. These images overlapped and layered upon one another, creating a state of visual chaos. Klein didn't hesitate—he immediately instructed Senyor to detach from the window and transform into a werewolf, charging swiftly toward the sorceress. Yes, Klein had confirmed: Panatia was indeed a sorceress, and a sorceress of divine rank! One by one, the black strands of hair, along with the invisible, translucent threads, rose up and intertwined, forming an exaggerated web that suddenly enveloped Senyorial, whose body was densely covered with short, thick fur. Yet, as soon as contact was made, the figure of the "Lord of Blood" instantly became translucent and diffused, allowing the elongated black hair strands and the ethereal threads of the fairy mage to pass through without adhering—or clinging. The spirit of resentment had been transformed! "Hmph!" Pannatia's expression remained unchanged, merely emitting a soft sound from her nostrils. At that moment, deep, serene flames surged simultaneously along the thick hair strands and the ethereal threads touching Senyorial. Drawing their fuel from the very spirit of the being, these flames ignited the "spirit of resentment" into torches! Pop, pop, pop—Senyorial was burned back into his werewolf form, his limbs and flesh shattered and falling one after another to the ground. Thus, a Sequence 5 Spirit of Resentment was completely extinguished. At this moment, Caine had been continuously tapping his fingers, leaping between the different columns of flame, relying on the sacrifices of the secret figures, and rushing toward the heart of the town. In just a few flashes, he had already pulled hundreds of meters away from Panna蒂a. Suddenly, Caine found his forehead blazing hot, his lungs as if transformed into the bellows of a blacksmith, each breath accompanied by a distinct, resonant sound and carrying a steady stream of hot air. Since his "paper-man" substitute had been activated only after the incomplete mythic being's impact, it had failed to replace the illness already present, only mitigating a portion of the damage. Caine had assumed he could endure until he escaped the influence of Panna蒂a, but the condition had worsened far more rapidly than he had anticipated. Moreover, despite having already traveled hundreds of meters, he showed no signs of breaking free from the infection's source. Then, with a thud, Caine's legs gave way just as he was about to continue his "flame leaps," and he failed to tap his fingers successfully, collapsing to the ground. Then, a soft, pleasant laugh echoed in his ears—Pannatia’s: "No matter how far you flee to the other side of this town, you won't escape my plague. Remember, in Beckland, the entire eastern district was shrouded in my plague mist, and not just the farthest districts—the Queens' district and the western district—were spared; the rest suffered significantly." ...Ah. That woman who had worked with Mr. A—the one who had seemed so desperate. She was one of the true architects of the great smog crisis in Beckland. Clary felt a sudden clarity, a mix of profound resentment and despair, realizing how seriously ill he had become. Though not yet fatal, the relentless, severe cough was making it impossible for him to draw upon many of his extraordinary abilities. Pannatia stepped forward, her beautiful eyes now flushed with a hue that seemed indescribable—like a homeless wanderer who had starved for days finally seeing a perfectly seared, oozing ribeye. In her hands, she carried the remaining body of Senior, along with his two severed limbs. This appears to be her store of food. "Your tapping earlier was quite good—I think the flavors of those two fingers were quite excellent," said Panatia, gazing at Germain Spalro coughing on the ground far off, her voice speaking with a pathological frenzy. As soon as she finished speaking, she lifted one hand and plunged Senior's index finger into her mouth, biting down with a crisp, satisfying crunch, shattering it bone by bone. Kaine's vision slightly blurred as he watched this scene unfold, and for a moment, he felt as though his own fingers were experiencing a similar sharp, intense pain. At that moment, he knew that Panatia—the Lady of Despair—was half-mad, having consumed too much of the extraordinary flesh. Though, with her mastery of mysticism, she would have initially waited for the extraordinary properties to manifest before dining, the deceased prisoners here had no access to any food and were thus forced to turn to one another, inevitably growing more erratic and more frenzied. How could such a diet of extraordinary beings' flesh fail to take its toll? Just as Klein felt a bit desperate, wondering what else he could do to save himself, the soft crimson moonlight suddenly brightened. He saw Panatia's face fill with alarm, and without hesitation, she changed direction and rushed into the adjacent house, slamming the door shut behind her. Klein felt his condition noticeably improve, and quickly looked up, only to see the red moon now piercing through the mist, calmly and clearly illuminating the town. A thought struck him—remembering what Panatia had just said—and he immediately staggered toward the house on the other side, making sure to lock the door behind him: "When the red moon becomes clear, something will change here—something very dangerous will happen." P.S.: Thank you to Wangcai, the loyal servant of the Silver Alliance. Also, this afternoon I had a meeting with the starting point team regarding character merchandise, which took up quite a bit of time. This chapter is relatively short, so I hope you'll understand. I'll prioritize posting first and then revise later. As for the product team, they mentioned that their external contractor has been underperforming—rather slack, only skilled in creating Eastern-style designs. I'll just listen for now. My thought is either to have the merchandise ready by June or to switch contractors. They said they'll communicate the specific timeline with me shortly. For now, I'd appreciate your feedback on how they're doing.