After a moment of soothing, Alan Cris and Verma Gladith finally calmed the infant. Hh… Alan, tall and slender, exhaled deeply, straightened up, pushed his gold-framed glasses slightly forward, and nodded apologetically to the guests before pausing for a few seconds to gather his words: "Sorry, babies are always like this." "Yes," Kline replied with a smile, indicating he was completely unfazed. Then, he shifted the topic and continued sharing what he had seen and experienced in East-Berlang. During this time, he once again used his extraordinary ability to immerse all the ordinary guests in a dream-like state, while he himself picked up the ice cream he had not finished, changed the silver spoon, and smiled warmly as he rose to walk toward the stroller, gently asking, "Will, would you like some?" "Before the silver-velvet creature could respond, he softened his voice and said, 'You've now been born—you should be able to fold paper cranes by now. That way, I won't have to visit so often. As you know, that's easily suspicious.' William. Aunseit. Crayes glanced at him but said nothing. Crayes remained steadfast, took a good-quality white sheet of paper from beside him, and placed it inside the pram. Then, he bent down, scooping a spoonful of ice cream with his silver spoon. 'All the gifts fate bestows have already been priced in advance, haven't they?' Crayes murmured, moving the spoon gently. William, lying in the pram, lifted his left hand, wiped the dampness from his face, and murmured, 'For the extraordinary ones who journey through fate, it's always the things listed on the price list that must be paid first—before the gifts arrive.' "As he spoke, the plump infant picked up the sheet of white paper, struggling slightly, with a faint sniffle, folding it into a crane. Kaine stood by the stroller, holding the silver spoon steady, smiling at the scene. ........ A carriage departed from Pinstreet, heading toward the Saint Samuel Church. As it passed the house at 160 Berkland Street, Leonard Mitchell glanced at it through the window, murmuring to himself: "Dawn Tantez has returned." Instantly, in his mind, the slightly weathered voice echoed: "Fate will eventually converge." "Old man, ever since you woke up, you're becoming more and more of a mystic." Leonard couldn't help but tease. Palis Soloyasda chuckled, but said nothing. Upon arriving at Saint Samuel Church, Leonard entered the bishop's study of Becland, under the guidance of a priest. Anthony Stevenson stood in the shadow cast by the cabinet, dressed in a long robe of deep black with red accents, his eyes deep and thoughtful, his face clean-shaven. He seemed like an unknown presence emerging from the depths of darkness, evoking an unaccountable sense of dread. "Your Grace, what is it that brings you to summon me?" Leonard, though expecting something, bowed with a slightly less formal grace. Anthony nodded gently. "You have already made sufficient contributions to qualify for the rank of Sequence 5 'Spirit-Witch.' However, your 'Requiem' potion has not yet fully settled. Therefore, I am removing you from the Sostre team and assigning you individual tasks." Leonard responded in accordance with protocol. "Please, direct me as you see fit." Anthony picked up a stack of papers from the desk. "These are all cases suspected of being haunted. Investigate each one individually, focusing on soothing rather than purifying. If assistance is needed, draw personnel from the night-watch teams stationed in the relevant regions." “Yes, Your Grace." Even if Saint Anthony didn't specifically instruct him, Leonard would have taken the initiative to do such things on his own. Therefore, he had no objections to this assignment. After taking the stack of papers, he casually flipped through them and asked, "Your Grace, what is the Sostre squad currently engaged in?" Although, during the past several months, he had been focused on avenging his losses, appearing relaxed on the surface while inwardly reserved and having not developed close friendships with the members of the 'Red Glove' squad, they remained his teammates who had faced dangers together—so he naturally cared about their activities. "They're currently working on a task in coordination with Kreshta," Anthony Stevenson replied without going into further detail. Cecilia has also come to Beckland... Leonard didn't press further, and with a smooth clockwise motion, he tapped four times on his chest: "May the goddess protect all of them." "May the goddess be praised," Anthony returned with the same gesture. After leaving the bishop's study, Leonard descended toward the underground, intending to find a quiet room where he could list out the tasks in tabular form, clearly marking their priorities. As he walked down the stairs, he instinctively glanced up at the stained-glass window high above. Sunlight streamed through it, enhancing the solemnity of the colorful patterns and making the drifting dust particles and tiny insects visible. Seeing this scene, Leonard suddenly remembered the old man's description of Amun, and felt as though the air itself was filled with the presence of that "heretic." A tremor passed through him, and he immediately asked, lowering his voice: "Old man, I have a question." "What is it?" Palis Soloyasda asked slowly. Leonard continued in a hushed tone: "Why didn't you choose to live within the insects at first? They are smaller and more concealed, able to move easily within the church without being noticed by Amun." "How long can a single fly live? Constantly shifting hosts places a tremendous burden on itself. Not only does it fail to recover even incrementally through parasitism, but its condition deteriorates, shortening its lifespan." Palis Soloyasde hummed. Leonard nodded in realization and asked, "What about other organisms? Those that can live longer and enter the church unnoticed, without drawing much attention?" Palis Soloyasde immediately chuckled, "It seems you've never truly internalized some of the points I've made—this will certainly prove costly for you in the future! On the path of the extraordinary, the higher the sequence, the greater the accumulation of madness and tendencies toward chaos. This is inherent to their nature; it can only be suppressed and resisted, never eliminated." "So, for the 'parasites,' choosing a host must take these factors into account. If they parasitize ordinary animals for only a short time, that's manageable. But if the relationship lasts longer, they inevitably will be affected by the host's physical structure and hormonal rhythms—after all, everything is reciprocal, isn't it? The parasites can influence the host, and the host, in turn, can shape and reshape the parasite. 'Once you're housed within a typical animal's body, you'll need to constantly engage with others, remember your own identity, and maintain your sense of self. Otherwise, your exposure risks become extremely high. If you fail to do so, you'll gradually be influenced by the host, losing your ability to speak, blurring your sense of identity, and eventually being overwhelmed by the host's frenzied, uncontrollable energy." Leonard listened, struck by a quiet sense of awe, and nodded slightly. "I understand... that's why you've been so selective in choosing your hosts." "Are you trying to flatter yourself?" "Palais Soloyasdeh huffed." "For us, the most suitable hosts without a doubt are the extraordinary ones from our own path. Their development will be perfectly synchronized, and once we cultivate them sequentially, they can serve as supplements to their own extraordinary abilities—acting as special treatments that enhance their own states—while we ultimately claim possession of their bodies." Hearing the old man speak so calmly about such evil and terrifying matters, Leonard slightly furrowed his brow, yet quietly relieved, knowing this meant the elder would not harm him. Palais Soloyasdeh continued: "The next best choice would be the extraordinary ones from the 'Seer' and 'Apprentice' paths. Their abilities can be absorbed with minimal strain on the 'host's' condition, allowing for relatively swift recovery. "The third tier would be the more intellectually capable extraordinary ones from other paths. At least, they communicate well and are cooperative." "As for you, heh...," Leonard was about to reply to the old man when he suddenly spotted a bishop approaching from below the stairs, so he quickly closed his mouth, pressed against the handrail, and hurried his steps. Senator Mahert clearly knew exactly what specific business Doun Tanthas had in mind for the southern continent, and this connection had originated through his own introduction. After exchanging a smile with him, Mahert stepped forward, gave him a warm embrace, and said in a low voice, "Well done!" Klein nodded with a smile and then asked, "Do you still like the gift?" He was referring to the Valley wine, perfect for making tangy cocktails. "Excellent—that's exactly the taste I've been missing," Senator Mahert said sincerely. As Klein prepared to enter the hall, he noticed something was off. He glanced casually and then asked with slight concern, "Is Miss Haiyur not here?" "Has she already enrolled at the girls' school?" Lady Liyan sighed and shook her head, "No, she's simply unwell. She'll go to the school in September." "An illness, then?" Klein expressed the concern befitting a guest. Majestic smiled helplessly, "No—she was bitten by a mad old mouse a few days ago while visiting a country estate, and the wound hasn't fully healed yet." Seaurel had been bitten... by a mad old mouse... Klein nodded thoughtfully, "Has she seen a doctor?" "Yes, the doctor has administered medication to prevent infection," Majestic said simply. "As for the mouse, it hasn't been found yet. Perhaps we should keep a few cats at the estate."