The cold potion slid down his throat, bringing a numbing sensation that reached deep into his soul. His steps had ceased; his spirit unexpectedly rose, as though he had been lifted suddenly into the sky, gazing down upon the ruined Resurrection Square and the panicked citizens of Cookwa City, struck again and again by lightning. At this moment, his emotions stirred inexplicably—he felt as though every passerby below was connected to him by an invisible thread, responding to his subtle commands, expressing joy or sorrow, anger or delight, performing a myriad of actions. This sensation had been recurring lately, and now he understood it as the "director's" perspective, viewing all participants as mere puppets, as actors, striving to manipulate or guide them into a grand theatrical performance. Grasping that familiar feeling, he quickly adjusted his mindset, withdrawing his emotions entirely and observing everything with a calm, detached demeanor, unaffected by the emotional currents of the drama. As a "director," when adhering to the script, drawing on reality, making rational analyses, and selectively choosing elements—so that the accumulation of emotion, the progression of events, and the deployment of clues all remain under his own control—the mindset settles firmly, and immediately, the power of the elixir begins to spread throughout his body, like a finely woven, sharp net. Suddenly, Klein feels his spiritual essence, intertwined with his physical form, being sliced into countless fine fragments, no longer able to endure, and emits a piercing cry that rises from the very depths of his soul: "No!" His thoughts are then likewise fragmented, becoming discrete pieces, each merging with different bodily forms and acquiring its own consciousness: There is a Klein who suffers, one who is proud, one who is cold, one who is gentle, one who is self-satisfied, and there is also Zhou Mingrui, Sherlock Holmes Moriarty, Germán Sparrow, and D'Artagnan Thénardier! His entire spirit seemed to have been fed into a crusher. Nearby, Leonard first saw Captain Dunn, who was embracing Dr. Dyson Simon, transform back into the form of Klein Moretti. Then he noticed small, pale growths emerging on the captain's face, neck, and wrists—seeming to pulse with their own vitality, slowly extending outward and taking on the form of translucent worms, while subtle undulations of movement were visible beneath the clothing. It gave Leonard the impression that the captain would dissolve into a mass of transparent worms, each drifting off in different directions at the next moment. As he reached for something to do, he suddenly felt a dizziness, instinctively closing his eyes, unwilling to look any longer. Transparent worms growing from within Caine's body shimmered under the sunlight, revealing one after another intricate, layered, mysterious symbols. These symbols bridged higher realms and connected to the foundational laws below, intuitively embodying abstract concepts such as strangeness, frenzy, change, power, and knowledge. At this moment, one after another, vivid memories surfaced within his mental fragments—memories that were strikingly clear. It was the scene of King Adam the Angel closing his eyes in prayer, then making a powerful entrance. It was the moment he placed the "Tomb Bell" revolver against Insang Zangwei and fired, shattering his skull. It was the scene where he smiled like a clown, his voice low and steady, saying, "This shot is for the captain." It was the moment when King Adam the Spectator watched the drama unfold with clear, pure eyes, witnessing its final act. It was the scene where he transformed into Deneen Smith, inviting Dailie Simonni to dance the Dance of the Curtain. These memories were so vivid—especially the gaze of the Spectator—that they seemed to have tangible presence and magnetic appeal, gradually helping Kline rediscover his sense of self. I... Who am I? This question, Klein had already answered during his "Faceless" phase—no further thought was needed; he quickly grasped the identity: a person from Earth, somewhat reshaped by Klein's memory fragments; a person profoundly influenced by the "Night Watchers"; a person who, though cautious, fearful of danger, was willing to sacrifice everything for what he believed in; a guardian, a pitiful figure. Unusual sensory perceptions, not originating from spiritual or mental entities, gradually emerged from the fragmented pieces, coalescing into Klein's new thoughts—cold, calm, observant, and detached, thoughts that allowed him to perceive the world from multiple angles and perspectives. He realized this might very well be divinity—without resistance, simply weaving the original spiritual fragments together with black threads, slowly restoring them into a unified whole. It was only at this moment that he understood the purpose of the ascension ritual. This is an imprint, also a anchor point—compared to other paths, the "Sorcerer" who experiences spiritual fragmentation requires this anchor point earlier and more urgently! Yet, faith itself is not yet necessary; on the contrary, faith is too complex, too chaotic, too laden with personal emotions, and easily erases the humanity of the晋升者—currently still only at Sequence 5—during this ritual's state of fragmentation, leaving only the divine essence behind. A magnificent, profound drama, watched by numerous spectators, can itself serve as an anchor! Though the live audience here is small, as one of the most accomplished representatives of the "audience" path, Adam alone can count for thousands of ordinary spectators; he can even imagine a full theater of audience members to create the desired effect. The overall structure has finally coalesced, and diverse knowledge surges forth from the semi-divine, semi-human spirit, sweeping into Caine's mind with an impact so overwhelming it feels as though his mind is about to explode. Yet, having already begun to take on divine qualities and having experienced this transformation on multiple occasions, he approached the stage with a calm, observant demeanor, finding it relatively effortless. The translucent worms that had been crawling across his face, hands, neck, and beneath his clothing now retracted and returned to within him, and he once again became Klein Moretti, his black hair and brown eyes restored. He glanced at Dailie Simonne, whose hands were gradually growing colder, and gently lifted her, stepping steadily toward Leonard Mitchell. With a formal bow, he placed her gently on the ground. By now, Dailie had lost her dark scales and white fur, returning to her original form. Her eyes were softly closed, her lips slightly upturned, as if she were dreaming of the deepest, sweetest kind of sleep. Klein straightened up, looked at Leonard, who had now opened his eyes, and said in a low tone, "She has returned to the goddess's realm, just as the captain did." Earlier, he had used the "secret embodiment" technique to halt the reversal of Dailie's transformation, allowing her to pass away as a human being, and then released the control. "Hmm." Leonard wanted to force a smile, but tears slipped unnoticed. Klein nodded gently: "For her, this might not be such a bad ending—returning to the arms of the divine in human form, where there are still Captain and the others." As he spoke, he unconsciously and sincerely raised his right hand, tapping it four times in a clockwise motion over his chest. Leonard instinctively drew the crimson moon, then paused, his expression growing strangely odd. Klein glanced around and said: "Take Miss Dail back to East Baylant, and tell them she died in the assault by Inz. Zangwiel, making an outstanding contribution to Inz. Zangwiel's demise. Rest assured, no one will pursue you. Of course, you may also use this opportunity to leave the 'Red Glove.' 'I'm... I'm used to the Church,' Leonard said after a moment of silence. Klein then removed his silk hat and bowed slightly. He held his hat, turned toward the body of Inz. Zangwei, and removed a card from above—depicting a chariot and a deep-red priest. The face of that deep-red priest was unmistakably that of Roserl Gustav. Leonard’s lips moved slightly, and then he spoke: “Are you not returning to the Church?” Klein did not turn; he placed the silk hat upon his head and walked toward another exit of the square. After walking a few steps, he paused, facing away from Leonard, and replied: “I can’t return…” “I can’t return…” Leonard stared in silence at the familiar silhouette, growing ever more distant, until it finally faded into the distance. A few moments later, several extraordinary beings arrived at the Resurrection Square. Among them was one dressed in the standard robe of a Night Church cleric, with sleek black hair and a refined face. No one could tell her age, for no one cared about such details—everyone only noticed the deep, star-filled eyes that held countless constellations. The lady floated above, gazing silently at the square, where the remains of Ins. Zangwei were barely recognizable, her shattered head covered by a common tarot card. It was the card of the Star. ... Above the gray mist, Caine placed the "Chariot" card to his left and closed his eyes to rest. Regarding the abilities of the "Mystic Artisan," he has already gained a preliminary understanding and mastery: On one hand, he can transform into animals whose size differs only moderately; in his ethereal state, he can transcend this limitation. He can transfer wounds and illnesses from himself or others to substitute paper figures, and achieve a "flame leap" range of nearly one kilometer, with the power of his air bullets enhanced to that of artillery shells; on the other hand, he can initially control the "Ethereal Thread" within three seconds, fully converting a target into a puppet within fifteen seconds, with an operational range of 150 meters. Moreover, by leveraging the interactive "Ethereal Thread," he enables his secret figures to utilize all of his extraordinary abilities, allowing free positional exchanges between himself and the figures over an effective range of one kilometer. Based on this, along with his separation from his mythological creature form and his ability to blend into the "spirit line," Caine can achieve a higher level of substitute usage—meaning as long as any one of his secret doubles remains alive, the "Weird Mage" will never die! The enemy will find it extremely difficult to determine whether the one being killed is the "Weird Mage" himself or one of his secret doubles—the reality shifts constantly, true and false, making it impossible to tell. After confirming his status and resting briefly, Caine immediately headed deep into the mysterious space above the gray mist, toward the luminous staircase that resembled a path to heaven. As he had expected, another layer of steps had appeared—steps formed of concentrated light. This time, Caine was certain he could use the six-tiered staircase, resembling that of a giant, to reach the gathered gray clouds. Step by step, two steps, three steps… he reached the end and leaped forward, landing firmly on the cloud-like formations made of mist. What met his eyes was a brilliant gate tinged with a hint of dark green and black, composed of countless layered spheres. Each sphere's core was a mass of twisted, writhing worms, some transparent, others semi-transparent. This was the scene克莱恩 had seen through "the Winner" Enzo, though the physical reality appeared blurry, as if something were obstructing his view. Hanging above the gate were numerous thin black threads, each bearing a nearly fully transparent "cocoon." These cocoons gently swayed, each enclosing a distinct soul—some with dark skin, others with yellow or white complexions, some dressed in jeans, others holding smartphones, some in vibrant attire, others with striking features—all alive, yet all with closed eyes. Klein's gaze froze instantly, as though he had returned to Earth, walking through a bustling street populated by people of all ethnicities. Then he noticed that three of the "silkworm cocoons" had already broken open, empty and drifting gently in the wind. Klein, his head raised and gazing upward, silently watched everything, his expression still and attentive. (Part IV complete) PS: Please support with a monthly subscription! (This chapter complete) 953. Summary of Part IV, with a leave of absence and a request for monthly subscriptions Summary of Part IV, with a leave of absence and a request for monthly subscriptions Immortality—either a blessing or a curse—is the theme of Part IV, evident in many characters, such as Azk, Andersen, Leonard, and so on. When young Klein finally saw the cocoons, saw the modern-day Earth people wrapped within them, and observed that three of the cocoons had already ruptured, the question of whether immortality was a blessing or a curse no longer needed to be explicitly stated—the world's pervasive atmosphere of suspense, horror, mystery, and darkness became immediately apparent. This was one of the most impactful scenes I envisioned at the beginning of the book, and now that it's realized, it's still quite effective—I'm smiling. Throughout the fourth volume, the narrative builds layer by layer, weaving in and resolving earlier threads—particularly the Anderson thread introduced in the mid-section of the third volume—which finally achieves a strong surge and resonance. I'm generally satisfied with that. Some other threads will be wrapped up in the fifth volume. However, the fourth volume still has a few issues. First, the daily life of the wealthy characters lacks sufficient conflict. As the story unfolds, it becomes difficult to generate tension, and many points must be explained or mentioned, which makes me feel anxious before the journey to Charnes Gate—transitions feel too abrupt, lacking the final, subtle underpinning I had hoped for. As previously noted, I won't elaborate further on that. Second, the overall narrative arc is too lengthy, and the pacing falters in the middle and later sections. From late June to mid-July, my writing pace was consistently stressed. After receiving the recipe from Klein and wrapping up Leonard's backstory, the narrative momentum began to decline. I tried to compensate and restructure the story, seeking new sources of excitement, but the results were not very satisfying. The underlying reason, which I eventually clarified, was a lack of variation. In plain terms, the character progression had been delayed too long—spanning over two or three hundred chapters from the mid-third book to the mid-to-late fourth book—leading to aesthetic fatigue and a gradual loss of narrative tension. A fundamental transformation was urgently needed. Therefore, I adjusted the pacing, postponing elements that could be handled later and incorporating more side descriptions, clearly focusing on the character advancement and the revenge arcs. From my personal sense and concrete metrics, the results have been quite satisfactory. Of course, this approach introduced some challenges: certain sections felt rushed, such as the segment involving Calderon, which should have been more expansive and intricate. Well, for me, upgrading is not just a source of excitement or anticipation—it's also a tool for controlling the pacing. The first part is easy to grasp; even in the real world, upgrading is everywhere—employees have career advancement paths, businesspeople and officials do too. Without upgrading, reality simply doesn't exist, though sometimes it's not very obvious. The latter aspect, however, is more complex. I've simplified it as a pursuit of change. Even the most ordinary book needs change and stimulation from new elements. Each upgrade brings about numerous changes, making it an effective means of pacing and evaluating the narrative. As the pace accelerates, especially toward the final climax, the most crucial task for an author becomes organizing emotions—aligning with the emotions they wish to convey, eliminating anything detrimental or redundant, ensuring that emotional layers build up, accumulate, and erupt without interruption, without being disrupted or diluted. Therefore, in the final section, I deliberately relaxed the sense of urgency. Once the Adam thread was established, unless the Rosé School elements were also introduced, there would naturally be a lack of urgency. But if I did introduce them, the scene would become too chaotic, making it difficult to maintain the emotional focus on revenge and melancholy. Furthermore, this scene is largely directed by Xiao Ke, and I wanted to keep the overall narrative under control. Too many unexpected developments and moments of urgency would disrupt the natural progression of the emotional arc, and dividing the themes of revenge and advancement into two separate threads would inevitably lead to a sluggish pace and a loss of momentum. Additionally, the initial presence of the Red Angel spirit, while valuable for character development, slightly undermines the sense of urgency—this represents a small sacrifice made in service of character depth. Finally, weaving in more of Insi's memories to enrich the characters actually doesn't significantly enhance the emotional resonance, so it too was sacrificed. In fact, it's not impossible to build up urgency midway through—say, by advancing Dailie's death earlier and triggering that emotional climax in the middle, creating a sense of urgency where only Scion can survive. But then, the lingering resonance and the poignant conclusion at the end would suffer in emotional impact. After careful consideration, I've had to make this trade-off. I'm making some efforts to convey the mental images and emotions I have in mind, in the most vivid and tangible way possible. At this point, I no longer think about whether to use adjectives, verbs, or nouns—I simply focus on which words or combinations of words best capture the essence of the scene, present it most directly and intuitively. Many authors face a similar challenge. I remember that in Weng Rui'an's later works, certain sections sometimes seem to feel like filler—such as a cluster of "sword" references surrounding a character's name—but in fact, these are all deliberate attempts to enrich the imagery and better transmit the atmosphere, to transcend the limitations of language. In this regard, words still fall short of the power of visuals. This is the technical summary of the fourth volume. As for the identity of the third—or first—time-traveler, I invite you all to guess. Hehe. As usual, after each volume concludes, I take a short break to rest and reflect, though I have weekends, I still only take three days off. Updates will resume on Tuesday at noon, 12:30. Part Five, "The Red Priest"—everyone can now proceed with reading comprehension. Please laugh. Lastly, I'd like to recommend two books. One is "The System of Gods and Realms Across the Multiverses," which presents a rather unique narrative entry point—something fresh, not just the usual romantic tales or shows like "The People's Name." The other is "Conversations with the Sword," a new work by the established master Lan Di.