Forsyth's pupils dilated instantly, as if she were gathering more light to clearly see the current state of Hoo. At the same time, a brilliant surge of light erupted before her—brighter and more intense than the illumination of an older-model camera, casting the surrounding area in a white haze. Then, her fingers glided across a page of "Lymanno's Travel Notes," and a surge of black mist rose from beneath her feet, completely enveloping her body. This dense mist quickly fragmented into numerous phantom bats, each the size of a palm, which flew toward various points within the underground hall. This was the "Dark Wings," recorded in "Lymanno's Travel Notes"—originally designed to enhance speed, enable brief flight, and summon a group of vampire bats to attack enemies. Yet Forsyth did not employ it in any of these functions; instead, she used it merely as a stage prop for her performance. After all the phantom bats had departed, the spot where Forsyth had stood was now entirely empty. Her figure had somehow shifted to a distance of ten or so meters! After instinctively reacting with evasion and self-preservation, Forse finally regained her composure and quickly turned her attention to the anomaly in Horst. Yet, what met her gaze was Horst—his golden hair slightly disheveled, his face slightly sun-kissed from years of outdoor activity, his expression one of astonishment tinged with mild bewilderment, as though genuinely surprised by his friend's sudden outburst, completely unaffected by the presence of the spectral spirits. "Something's happened," Horst asked, his tone filled with curiosity and alertness. Forse narrowed her eyes, didn't immediately respond, and while flipping through "Lehmann's Travel Notes," she countered, "Horst, what's your actual height right now?" Horst seemed to suddenly grasp the point and replied, "152—right?" Before she finished speaking, Forse's fingers had already traced the symbolic signs and magical emblems on the page in her hands. In the quiet stillness, a sacred glow, wreathed in flame, descended from the upper reaches of the underground hall. It was pure and resplendent, instantly enveloping Thew and radiating outward in concentric circles of sunlight. The intense light pierced through Folshe's eyes, and for a moment she saw the entire hall collapse, the surrounding space shattering like glass. The sensation passed swiftly, and Folshe, slightly bewildered, found herself still standing where she had originally been—unmoved, unescorted. Had it all been a mere illusion? She hurried to turn and look at Thew beside her, and there he was, perfectly normal, gazing steadily at the damaged area near the massive entrance door. Folshe paused, then opened her mouth: "Thew, what is your actual height right now?" Thew glanced at her with a sigh of impatience. "Don't ask such a dull question!" Relief washed over Folshe. She quickly recounted the events of just now, focusing on the key points. After a moment's pause, she used her left hand—holding the tallow lamp—to gently tap Folth's arm, saying, "Step back a little way. Perhaps the closer we get to the door, the more likely we are to experience illusions." "That makes sense!" Folth agreed, nodding and moving several steps backward with swift motion. Then she glanced around once more, slightly puzzled, remarking, "Why can't we find any specters or ghostly figures here? This setting should be exactly what they prefer." Resting in surprise herself, she began a careful observation, and eventually her attention settled on the cluster of sunlight floating above Folth's head. "Try extinguishing that," she suggested. Folth seemed to grasp the idea immediately and promptly turned off the light. Darkness flowed silently in, once again asserting its dominance over the underground hall, with only the dim glow of the lantern offering a small resistance. Then, two figures appeared in Folth's spiritual vision. They stood close to the bronze doors—one a woman with her hair coiled, wearing practical knight's trousers and a tunic suitable for movement, and the other a man clad in silver-black armor, holding a long sword that was nearly breaking at the hilt. The woman's features were blurred, constantly moving between the door and the area where Folth and Tho had first arrived; the man paced near the door, murmuring to himself. Were these the two ancient spirits? Folth gently tapped Tho on the elbow, speaking softly, "I've seen the spirits." "I've seen them too—they're not hiding," Tho replied, slightly bowing his body into a combat stance. Folth quickly tapped her again, "Don't rush yet—we're not sure they're our targets yet." She took three steps forward, but the two more indistinct figures paid her no attention. Folth thought for a moment, then said, "Madam, what are you doing?" — She had heard stories in other esoteric circles about the possibility of communication between higher-level spiritual beings such as lingering spirits and shadow entities. But as soon as she finished speaking, she regretted it, because even if communication were possible, she couldn’t achieve her purpose—she couldn’t persuade them to commit suicide and surrender the cursed objects and residual spiritual essence of the ancient spirits. Just as Folshe considered whether to launch a direct attack, the lady in the uniform shirt and knight’s trousers responded to her question with a calm, unvarying tone: “I am looking for my husband. He is one of the guards here.” Indeed, they could communicate! Folshe felt a genuine curiosity and asked further: “Where has he gone?” At that moment, Hugh stepped closer, still maintaining a highly alert posture. The somewhat blurred figure replied mechanically: “He is one of the guards. He told me that a peculiar force is seeping out from behind the door, eroding his teammates. He asked me to send a messenger and to leave the premises as soon as possible.” "He said he would guard me until I safely escaped, but I don't want to escape that way—I want to leave with him... After sending off the messenger, I returned halfway, to find him down in the underground, but I couldn't locate him anywhere... Given the castle's timeless atmosphere, surpassing even the current era, it's no surprise that its final guards have evolved into ancient specters. Indeed, this lady's story has deeply moved me—I simply can't bear to harm her. Fael thought carefully, took cautious steps, and moved past the elderly spectral woman, eventually reaching the area near the bronze gate. Throughout this journey, neither she nor Tho had any further visions—this suggests that her earlier experiences were unintentionally created by the lady. Just a short distance from the knight-specter clad in silver and black armor, wielding a long, rusted sword, Fael tried again: 'Sir, what are you doing?'” The knightly spirit paused, hummed, and spoke: "I have been guarding this black gate, ensuring my wife reaches a safe place. If you meet her, tell her that my knight will fight until the very last moment." Ah... the black gate—this should have been the bronze gate... Wait, what did he just say? He said he was guarding the gate, making sure his wife escaped safely? This—this is exactly the other half of the description the lady earlier gave! Is this his husband? Folsen was momentarily stunned, shifting her gaze back and forth between the two ancient spirits: the lady in the uniform of a knight's tunic and trousers moved step by step toward the bronze gate, then turned back to the central hall, repeating this cycle without end, while the man in the silver-and-black armor carried his decaying, rusted longsword, always lingering near the gate. They passed each other often, yet never exchanged a single glance. Such a scene has lasted for at least fifteen hundred years, if not longer... Folshe silently reflected, glanced at Tho, and noticed the thin mist already forming in her friend's eyes. How easily touched she is... Folshe couldn't hold back any longer and called out to the female wraith: "Look by the door—your husband has been there the whole time!" The woman in the knight's tunic and hose slowed her pace, first glanced at Folshe, then turned her gaze toward the imposing main door. Her stiff gaze passed through the knight clad in silver and black armor, settling on the figure behind him. "I can't find him at all..." she repeated the words and actions from before. Folshe felt an unexpected sorrow, about to speak again, when she saw the knight in silver and black armor turn and look directly at her and Tho, his voice booming: "Who are you?" As soon as his words fell, the female wraith also turned her gaze back to Folshe and Tho. Vorst felt her thoughts slow, as if a cold mass were rapidly forming and spreading within her body, freezing her flesh and joints. In her eyes, even Tey seemed to be experiencing the same, with the glow of the lanterns around him dimming. At that moment, two flashes of lightning suddenly ignited within Tey's gaze. The male wraith emitted a sharp cry, his form momentarily blurring. Tey instantly shed the sensation of being frozen, hurling the three-edged spear he held toward the female wraith. At the tip of the spear, faint streaks of ethereal light jumped and struck the woman wearing a riding jacket and knight's trousers. "Spirit lash!" the female wraith cried out, her form growing increasingly hazy. Vorst's mind cleared instantly, and her fingers skimmed over the already opened pages of the "Leyman's Travel Notes." The shadows around instantly came to life, coalescing into dark chains that tightly bound the knight's spirit in place, sealing its "mouth." "Deep Veil Chains!" At the same time, Xiu surged forward, her eyes reflecting the form of the female spirit, holding aloft a phantom, scorching iron and pressing it toward her target. With the female spirit now held in place, Fols' movements grew ever more composed. She turned the pages of "Lehmann's Travel Notes," her fingers gliding smoothly across them. A series of silver-white lightning bolts, branching out like trees, descended from nowhere, striking the knight's spirit in sequence, transforming the area into a realm of thunderous torment. Finally, a radiant beam of pure light, encircled by holy flame, appeared, enveloping the knight's spirit and completely purifying it. Seeing one enemy secured, Fols immediately turned, joining Xiu in confronting the female spirit. She didn’t hesitate to draw upon the capabilities of the "Leymano Travel Notes," skillfully combining suitable elements and leveraging Hu’s connections—sometimes restricting, sometimes attacking—until, in no time at all, she had eliminated her target. Everything settled into stillness. Folshe exhaled slowly, gazing at the battlefield with a look of disbelief: "Is that it?" She had originally assumed that the two ancient spirit entities possessed unique abilities at a higher level, making them particularly challenging for a Sequence 5 near-strong to handle. Yet she found the outcome remarkably smooth. This experience truly solidified her belief in the "Leymano Travel Notes" as a true marvel, and deepened her yearning for the next Sequence—the "Archivist." Hu also felt somewhat surprised, pausing for a few seconds before saying: "Then it makes sense that someone told me that among the semi-divine beings, the number of extraordinary individuals, their coordination, and the extent to which their abilities are applied matter more than their sequence rankings." As soon as she finished speaking, a sharp, rhythmic tapping sound suddenly echoed in her ears. This broke the quiet of the underground hall, coming from behind the bronze gate.