Sitting slightly behind and to the side of the statue was an elderly man dressed in a long black robe, his hood drawn over his head, his chin lowered, eyes closed, and a thick, dense beard stretching from his mouth and cheeks—so long and untrimmed it seemed he had not been shaved in years or even decades, making it difficult to discern his original appearance. To Caine, however, this bearded man appeared far more eerie than the figures suspended in midair. After his "spirit threads" extended from within his body, they did not drift upward toward the lofty ceiling, where they might gather around what seemed to act like a magnetic center. Instead, the threads looped around him once and returned to their point of origin—source and destination merging into a single point! Normally, spirit threads emerge from living beings and extend in various directions, stretching infinitely into the distance. In contrast, the figures hanging from above all had their threads originating from the same point, yet converging at the church's ceiling—clearly indicating a significant anomaly. This was precisely why he remained unattached? Or was this his method of avoiding the dangers within the church itself? Klein manipulated his "spirit threads," countering the upward drift, while silently murmuring, pondering the reason. Suddenly, he saw a pair of eyes—dark, like a surface of water devoid of light. The elderly man seated slightly behind the statue blinked open his eyes. He was still alive! Without realizing it, Klein stepped back, slightly arching his body, his left hand now shielding the space ahead. In an unspoken, profoundly still and tense silence, the pale, bearded man with a faintly trembling gaze and half-closed lips began to speak in a vague, indistinct tone: "Finally, another 'seer' has come to this place..." Another one? Had there been other 'seers' who had passed through the extraordinary ones into this church before? Indeed, besides those beings erased by the "eraser" angels who arrive at the misty town, the spirits who vanished during the night at the divine war ruins will also appear here—among them may be a few who sought merfolk in that sea, or those who have successfully ascended and are now preparing to depart via the "seer's path." Seeing that the other had not immediately launched an attack but instead showed a willingness to engage, Caine forced himself to steady his emotions and asked thoughtfully, "Why do you say that?" The elder with dark eyes, white beard, and hooded cloak did not respond directly, instead speaking in a vague, low tone, "Do you wish to escape from here?" "I can tell you how." Caine remained unmoved and immediately asked, "Then why are you still here?" Knowing the means to escape this misty town, why remain within this perilous church? The elder lowered his head slightly and chuckled softly in his throat, "Because I have already died." "…The hairs on Caine's back stood on end; he could hardly speak. To his eyes, the elder was not an ethereal form at all! Seeing no response from the old man, he slowly lifted his head and glanced at the image of Caine—his appearance now that of Germain Spalro—saying, 'Using a special, extraordinary ability, I have found the fissures in this world's history and destiny, and have cut out my own image, freezing it here, maintaining it until now. My body and my spirit have long since completely perished and dispersed.' How astonishing this ability is! Caine could find no way to verify its truth, so he turned and asked, 'Then, what was the purpose of the "seer" who guided you into this place escaping?' The old man's voice remained hazy: 'Once you open the door, the history and destiny of this place will change, and my image, thus cut out, will vanish as well. Then, you will see a jar of ashes.' "I only hope they can be released into the Serenzo River near Trier, the capital of the Indi—my hometown, where I was born. Do you understand that name? I'm not sure how long the real world has passed since then." "Have I been imprisoned here for at least a century?" Klein responded calmly. "They still exist." "Good," the elder nodded, clearing his throat. Though Klein didn't fully trust the man before him, he decided not to waste time, believing that more information would only strengthen his overall assessment: "Then, how do I escape?" The elder remained seated, with no particularly noticeable movements. "Have you noticed the wall behind this statue?" "Is there a depression on it?" Klein actually didn't want to follow his own description, as he had previously been similarly stunned and injured by Panatia's witch, who had revealed her incomplete mythic being form to him. However, he had just decided to examine the surroundings for clues, so he ultimately moved his gaze carefully toward the wall behind the statue. There, a series of brief and rustic symbols were inscribed, yet a section in the middle remained blank, failing to form a continuous pattern. The empty area was about the size of two palms, clearly indented inward, as though the surface stones had been removed. "As soon as you find the corresponding obsidian slab and place it here, the wall will begin to break free from its state of concealment, displaying a shimmering, ethereal hue. Then I'll reveal a complex, special symbol—this will be the key to opening the door through which you can escape." The bearded elder did not turn his head, maintaining steady gaze ahead, and explained in detail. A complex, peculiar symbol... the key to opening the door... Klein listened to the whispering murmurs behind him—“Hornachis... Freglah...”—and suddenly, a symbol emerged in his mind: a vertical eye composed of numerous hidden symbols! It was information passed to him through the "Fate Dolls," which had infected the Antigonos family's records! And the Antigonos family seemed to have a close connection with the "Land of Night" at the summit of the Hornachis Mountains! Could this be the very "key to opening the door"? Klein remained composed, turning his gaze back and asking, "Why did all the previous 'seers' fail?" The elderly man seated slightly behind the statue, wearing a hood, chuckled warmly, "Some of them were as verbose as you—unable to leave the church before the red moon became clear, and thus were hung up there. That man who had managed to look particularly handsome, for instance, and the young lady with flawless features—both of them were." “…” Kline was nearly at a loss for words from the gentle teasing. Yet, he now understood a key point: when the Red Moon was clear, the danger within the church surged exponentially—even the Master of Secret Doubles could no longer maintain control over his spiritual threads! He had to constantly monitor the light’s changes and, as soon as the Red Moon became clear, he must "pass through the walls" and move out. Kline glanced around, confirming that the outer wall closest to the dark altar was about six to seven meters away, then swiftly formulated a contingency plan in his mind. The elderly man with the hood didn’t look up at him; he continued speaking calmly: “The others who weren’t so lucky—those who encountered enemies now driven mad, only craving food—were consumed by them. As you know, the number of extraordinary individuals on the Path of the Seer is inherently small, and even fewer become Masters of Secret Doubles. Those who have managed to reach this place, due to various circumstances, are few enough to be counted on one hand. "Of course, many more have been drawn here, lured by the allure—yet it's difficult to enter. They all...” He didn’t finish, slowly lifting his head to gaze at the highest point of the ancient church, then murmured, "with a similarly tragic end." What does that mean… If I fail to steal the notes and must instead follow the fragmented whispers emitted by the bodies hanging within this church, climb the summit of the Honachis Mountains, and seek the treasure left behind by the Antigonous family—wouldn’t that make me one of those drawn and lured? Difficult to enter, a similarly tragic end? With a sudden shift in thought, combining the vision of the ruined palace and the translucent worm clusters he’d seen in his divination, Klein grew increasingly suspicious that the Antigonous family’s so-called treasure was, in fact, a trap. He didn’t pause to ask further questions, instead turning his attention to more pressing matters: "Do you know where the obsidian stone is?" The elder chuckled softly, "It’s in the hands of that 'Despair Witch.'" “The ‘Lady of Despair’—so indeed Pannatia is the ‘Lady of Despair’… Klein had quietly referred to Pannatia as such before, but only because he knew she was revered as the ‘Lady of Despair’ and was certainly a mage-woman, thus combining the two into a single nickname. He hadn’t expected, however, that the ‘Lady of Despair’ might truly be the ‘Lady of Despair of the Mage-Woman Path.’ ‘Then I’ll find it difficult to obtain that obsidian stone—she’s truly a half-god,’ Klein admitted his difficulty without hesitation, watching to see what advice she might offer. The elder shook his head. ‘I am a man who has long since passed away; the assistance I can offer is quite limited. ‘Ah… when you entered, wasn’t there a secret companion with you?’ ‘Yes, but it has already been consumed by the ‘Lady of Despair.’’ Klein replied calmly. The elder sighed and smiled slightly. ‘I shall summon him from the history of this world.’” As soon as he finished speaking, Kline saw swift lines drawing themselves rapidly around him, sketching out Senior, the "Blood Above," wearing a triangular hat and a dark red coat, while the "Soul Threads" remained firmly under his own control! Kline's gaze instantly narrowed and froze. At the same time, the elder with the hood added, "You can only maintain this for two hours—make the most of it. I'll strengthen the connection between you and the spectral figure, enhancing your command over him. This way, he'll be able to use his own extraordinary abilities, and you'll be able to instantly swap positions with him. Plus, the range of your control and the living characteristics will both improve." Can the spectral figure use my extraordinary abilities? That means I can harness the "Faceless Man's" powers to transform him into another version of myself—perfectly suited as a substitute! Is this a half-deity from the "Seer" path? Is this one of the abilities of a "Weird Mage"? Will the enemy ever know whether the one they've killed is truly the "Weird Mage"? Moreover, summoning spectral figures from history—this is utterly beyond imagination... Thoughts surged rapidly in Caine's mind, leaving him unable to settle. The elder raised his eyes to him and continued, "Give me a paper figure." Caine furrowed his brows, hesitated for a few seconds, then produced a paper figure and handed it over. The elder extended his dry hands, took the figure, and brushed it lightly. Instantly, Caine's headache, fever, and nasal congestion vanished! The paper figure, however, became spotted with rust, quickly grew brittle and shattered. With my paper figure, you've transferred my illness? Caine thought it over and finally asked, "Forgive my earlier rudeness—how shall I address you?" The elder didn't immediately respond, sighed, and said, "I can only offer this much assistance." He paused, then offered a vague smile. "You may call me, um... Charathu."