A patch of orange-yellow light appeared on the horizon, and one by one, the manors along the northern bank of the Tassok River stirred to life in the thin morning mist. Flanmi Kye, tall and robust, arrived at the guest room where Colonel Chunus Colg had been sleeping the previous night, knocked gently on the door, and prepared to share breakfast with the Deputy Director of MI9. But there was no response inside. "Has the Colonel already gone to the dining room?" Flanmi Kye asked, slightly puzzled, and then turned to leave the floor. By the time breakfast was over, everyone realized that Colonel Colg was missing. Under the leadership of Dowen Tangtse, they gathered outside the guest room, watching the estate steward, Richardson, take the key and open the door. Inside, there was no one. "Does Colonel Colg have a habit of morning walks?" Senator Mahet pressed, gently pressing his cheekbones with his fingers, expressing his bewilderment. Flanmi Kye shook his head without hesitation. "No." "Did you hear any sounds last night?" Portland Monment, president of Bekland Technological University, surveyed the room and asked. Mather recalled: "No, it's quite quiet here—perfect for a vacation." Beside him, Hayour looked curiously around the room, yet couldn't quite figure out what might have happened. At that moment, Franmi Kece offered her own speculation: "Colonel Colg is a key figure in the military and often has unexpected matters requiring his attention. Perhaps he left the manor early and returned to Bekland already." Clearly, the steam-powered vehicle magnate was working hard to downplay the situation. He seemed to know something—perhaps even that Colonel Chunus Colg had a specific purpose in coming to Mogue Manor. Cline listened intently and, with a serious expression, addressed the butler Walter and the estate steward Richardsons: "Check with the servants whether they saw Colonel Colg last night or this morning." "If not, send someone back to Beckland to visit the family of Lieutenant Colonel Colg, inform them of the matter, and let them decide whether they need to call the police immediately." After saying this, Dain Thonnes ran a hand over his silvering hair and addressed the guests, including Senator Mahert: "We haven't quite figured out what's going on yet. Perhaps Lieutenant Colonel Colg simply has an urgent matter that requires his immediate attention, and we shouldn't delay everyone's vacation for that. Then, let's proceed with our hunting arrangements. We'll return only when the police arrive." Since Colg's companion, Franmi Kech, had presented a compelling reason of urgency, the guests, including Senator Mahert, readily agreed with Dain Thonnes' suggestion and began to leave. Haeur walked last, glanced at the guest room where Lieutenant Colonel Colg was staying and the adjacent room, and felt something felt slightly off—subconsciously, she reached for her "decryption scholar" abilities to reconstruct the scene. Yet deep within her, a strong fear arose—she didn’t know what exactly she was afraid of—and in the end, she abandoned her plan. She vaguely felt she had some experience with such matters, and those experiences told her: don’t look at what should not be seen, don’t listen to sounds that should not be heard. When all the guests and servants had left that floor, in the room adjacent to Quon’s guest chamber, the thick carpet bearing the coffee table suddenly stirred. It slowly withdrew itself from beneath the sofa and the table, making only a quiet movement. Then, the brownish carpet straightened up, revealing a different scene. It was solid, flesh-like—frozen flesh! As the flesh slowly moved and reorganized, the carpet quickly transformed into a person: a young man of mixed heritage. This was Enyuni, Doane Thonastes’s personal servant. And now following D'Artagnan is Quinna Colg, bearing the same face and the same build! To Cline, it wasn't necessary for the "winner," Enyuni, to disguise himself in this manner, becoming someone else and blending among the servants, using illusion to disrupt their senses so they couldn't perceive that an extra person had appeared—this would have been simpler and more reliable. Yet for a half-god, the act of "performing" remains crucial, serving as a key to accelerate the absorption of magic potions and to counter tendencies toward loss of control and madness. Thus, in the finer details of many matters, Cline deliberately seeks the unusual and the subtle. Of course, he does not wish to harm the innocent. Even when cultivating an eerie, formidable atmosphere, he strives to ensure that others remain unaware, so as not to overwhelm them with fear and leave lasting psychological scars. That eerie, unsettling atmosphere was primarily meant to help him himself, to establish a sense of recognition within the magic potion, and it was undoubtedly accelerating his digestion. However, without the feedback from an audience, his performance remained incomplete—his magic potion's digestion would surely not proceed as quickly as expected, no matter how many actions he took or how many scenes he enacted. Even with all that, Klein still didn't feel he had a chance to make a run at the third tier within the year. "Xiu's eyes flickered slightly, and slowly came to life as she said, 'Whether it's about restoring my father's reputation or avenging ourselves, facing a king makes hope seem utterly渺茫. I simply couldn't imagine any way to achieve such things...'" Visible upon the surface of the gem were fine, thread-like patterns—precisely the extraordinary properties that manifested after Sherman's death. These patterns imbued the surrounding environment with a softness and a touch of elegance, yet the glow of the gem remained confined to a small area due to the presence of the copper-green cross. "That monitor was one of the perpetrators who killed Sherman," said Thorne seriously. They had already found a place to bury Sherman and, with Firth turning over "Lehmann's Travel Notes," conducted a proper farewell service. Firth immediately nodded. "Yes—this is precisely why she was driven to investigate the king's secrets and to confront potential risks. "You mentioned she might have been monitoring our previous residence, didn't you? Then we'll find an opportunity to return there under cover, leaving a note in the mailbox—stating that Viscount Stafford remains loyal to King George III, while George III himself harbors significant secrets. With that, the monitor should be able to see it." Thorne thought carefully and then gave a firm nod. "That's a good plan." After discussing what to do next, Forth stood up and pointed to the bronze-green cross. "We've received so much help from the 'Fool' gentleman. It's time for us to express our gratitude. I'd like to offer this cross as a sacrifice to him now. Do you have any objections?" "None," responded Hoo without hesitation. ........ The Mei Ge Estate, another evening. Since the family of Qunus Colg had reported that they should wait a little longer, and as it was a frequent behavior of the deputy director of Military Intelligence—especially when it came to matters of national security—Mehert and the others remained calm and composed. On the estate's rear lawn, they hosted a barbecue dinner unlike any ordinary one, using animals hunted by themselves. Watching the gentlemen roll up their sleeves and busy themselves at the grills, seeing the ladies occasionally stepping in to assist, and watching the children dart about, eager to participate, Cline sat down at a white wooden chair, holding a sweet white wine from the Château de Mores, a clear smile on his lips. At his side, his mixed-race personal servant, Enyuni, stood straight and attentive, waiting for instructions. Meanwhile, in one of the rooms of the manor, a pair of eyes quietly observed the scene below, belonging to someone exactly like Enyuni. As the evening breeze swept through, Cline was about to rise and head to the grill to demonstrate what it meant to prepare a classic Dijon-style grilled meat, when suddenly a figure swiftly emerged ahead of him. It was Arianna, dressed in a simple robe and tied with a bark belt. This discreet servant gazed at D'Artagnan and said, "There was nothing particularly remarkable within the underground sanctuary..." He then briefly recounted the circumstances he had observed there, together with the statements of Prince Sunia, Groves Augustus of the Order. That didn't make sense. Clary's mind immediately took up suspicion. For the Viscount of Stafford had the support of "The White Saint," Caterina, clearly indicating that the royal faction and the Order of the Magi had not severed ties. Given that the great smog event in Beckett had already occurred, their continued connection with the Order of the Magi could not be explained merely by a desire to claim the "Blood Emperor's" relics exclusively. If they were engaging in such deep collaboration, wouldn't the Order of the Magi and the Psychological Alchemists expect a share of the spoils? Then, why not simply approach the three major churches directly? Klein intuitively felt that the problem of the site had not truly been uncovered—he suspected that word might have slipped through, allowing the king's side to prepare. "With Lady Arianna present, the likelihood of the other side detecting discrepancies through divination or prophecy can be ruled out." "From the moment I dealt with Count Quinás Colg, to the joint action of the three churches, the number of people who knew about this event wouldn't exceed ten, all of whom were senior figures within their respective churches. How could such a leak have occurred?" "Could it be that Viscount Stedford's issue triggered the activation of the emergency response within the underground site? No—his status hasn't reached that level. Even Quinás Colg wasn't fully aware of the situation, let alone him. Stedford's role was merely to liaise with the female orders and manage peripheral matters. He might not even know the existence of the underground site. Klein's thoughts raced as he searched for the root cause. He first ruled out the possibility that the Viscount of Stafford had time to prepare, since the death of the court steward wasn't particularly significant or pivotal. With that, the explanations for the entire matter became exceedingly scarce—either someone who had learned the secret, for one reason or another, deliberately or inadvertently disclosed it, or someone noticed subtle signs in Curnas Colg's seemingly normal demeanor, while Klein himself remained completely unaware. They were also working in partnership with the Psychological Alchemy Society... Had my thought been read, my secret thus revealed? Yet I have the Gray Mist active—no matter what, there should be some anomaly, just as there had been when I and Anderson faced the semi-divine "audience" earlier... The Psychological Alchemy Society originated from Hermes' legacy. Hermes was... As he pondered this, Klein's pupils suddenly widened slightly. He instinctively restrained himself from delving deeper, but upon glancing at Arianna, he found reassurance and asked, "Is this place particularly secluded?" "Very discreet," Anna replied calmly. People came and went behind him, none of them noticing him. Klein exhaled, and his thoughts finally took shape: The Emperor Roser had once written in his journal that the members of that ancient, secretive organization were all prominent figures. So, could it be that some of the high-ranking officials of the three Churches were actually members of the "Twilight Hermit Society"? And might the ruins that the archbishops like Anna had observed not be genuine ruins, but rather imagined by Adam? Application method: Open the Start Reading app > go to your personal account page > select the Start Reading Star Exclusive Card > pull down to find the corresponding work card and click to apply.