The boundless gray mist boiled into motion, and the ancient, majestic palace burned everywhere. The intense flames coalesced into spheres, as if rising within this mysterious space to form a bright, luminous sun. A fierce gale uprooted the weathered long table, snapped the massive stone pillars, and brought down half the palace. Sitting in the "Fool" seat, Caine's head first surged with heat, then burst open, with numerous holes appearing, from which black, writhing worms crawled out along the fractured surfaces. Yet he did not die; instead, he remained remarkably calm, extending his right hand and gently tapping the armrest of the high-backed chair. This action caused the mysterious space above the mist to ripple and resonate, with waves of power surging forth, calming the gale, extinguishing the flames, and gradually dissolving the brilliant white sun, inch by inch. The massive stone pillars rose once more, the weathered long table restored to its original state, and the grand, sacred palace seemed never to have fallen or been damaged at all. Klein's head instantly recovered; the worm-like strands that had burst forth shed their charred coats, regained their transparency, and crawled back in. "Indeed, stronger than Angerwid, the mythical Dragon of Imagination..." Klein murmured, his expression visibly distorting as he instinctively rubbed his forehead. "It's painful... the pain is much more intense." While speaking, he lightly tapped the edge of the weathered long table, causing the mysterious space above the gray mist to tremble once more. Amidst the tremor, a dark, dense shadow suddenly rose from the palace floor. It writhed and struggled, yet was ultimately swept clean by the power of the mist, leaving no trace behind. Another several dozen seconds passed before Caine truly calmed down and recalled what he had just seen: "That one must be the ancient sun god, the creator of the Silver City—the father of Amun and Adam... From the cross pendant he wore and the phrase 'Let there be light,' it's clear He is almost certainly the first transceiver—likely of European descent, possibly with a church background... He used a language that harnessed natural forces, similar to the Giants' tongue but distinct from it, neither Elvish, nor Dragon, nor ancient Hermes. Hmm, it bears resemblance to the ancient Futhark of the Northern Continent and the Duthan tongue of the Southern Continent. Even though I haven't mastered this language, I can understand him fairly well. Is this the language He acquired and cultivated within that strange gray-white building? Did He arrive there and inherit a rich legacy? Was the second scene depicting His betrayal—being divided and consumed by the three angelic kings of purity, wisdom, and the wind?" "To a deity claiming to be the Creator, such tangible suffering and distortion probably only manifest in this state... 'Indeed, the divine blood shed by Him just before His fall fused with the silver cross, transforming the latter into a high-level seal. So it seems the 'Cross of Light' either came into the hands of one of the Three Kings—White, Wisdom, and Wind—or fell into the hands of Amun or Adam, who regard it as a precious heirloom from their father. The first possibility isn't particularly strong—the cross offers both powerful positive and negative effects, and its origin is a secret that must be carefully concealed; no one would willingly gift it to the Augustus family. So it must have been Adam's doing, then? Why did He naturally and logically bestow the 'Cross of Light' upon the 'Magician' or the 'Judge' lady? Has He, through careful observation, discerned that these two ladies hold the belief in the 'Fool'?" "Is this cross meant for the 'fool' who doesn't belong to this age? Does He wonder where His father, also out of step with his time, comes from? Yet the question is—how will He pose it, and how will He receive an answer? The personhood of the Creator of the City of Silver is truly remarkable—after such a long historical span, He has sensed my 'glimpse,' turned His gaze toward the haze, toward this enigmatic space, and His impact extends beyond visible destruction, bringing about an insidious erosion, casting a peculiar shadow that nearly allowed Him to fade into the background. Does this mean that, once a divine being acquires authority across multiple domains, their personhood undergoes a qualitative transformation? What does the phrase 'mysterious' conveyed by the one speaking refer to—does it point to me, or to the original sovereign of this mysterious space?" One after another, these questions flashed through Caine's mind, sparking numerous speculations, yet leaving him without a definitive resolution. Fearing Adam, he believed that the outcome of an "Unshaded Cross" would be better served if it were shattered and reformed by the divine seal of the Silver City into a pure, refined extraordinary nature. Calming his thoughts and setting his questions aside, Caine manifested fresh paper and quill, writing down the knowledge he had directly gleaned from observing the Silver City's Creator: "Sequence 3: The Justice Mentor..." "Sequence 4: The Black Knight..." "Sequence 3: The Three Holy Halls..." The flame burned quietly and soon faded away. ...In the luxurious manor of the Hall family in Queens. Just as Audrey returned to the hall after walking with Suzy through the garden, she noticed her father, Lord Hall, entering from outside. He removed his hat and scarf, handing them to his personal butler, and furrowed his brow, clearly deep in thought. "Father, what's happened?" Audrey asked with concern. This was the most basic observation—something she needed not to conceal. Lord Hall smoothed out his expression and smiled. "It's not anything major. I simply didn't expect Herwin Lambes to be a member of the cult." "Is he a member of the cult?" Audrey expressed her surprise appropriately. She knew Herwin Lambes was indeed a senior figure within the secret organization, the Psychological Alchemy Society, but she couldn't understand how this information had come to light so suddenly. Lord Hall nodded seriously. "Yes, he is currently being pursued by all three major churches." I'm not yet clear about which specific cult is involved." "...Has he been captured?" Audrey's eyes flickered with curiosity. "No, he had already gone missing before he was formally wanted," Count Holbrooke sighed. "It's truly hard to imagine him as a cult member. He was exceptionally well-mannered, deeply knowledgeable, and his views were always rational, balanced, and full of wisdom." That was just the face he wanted you to see... Audrey murmured to herself, then, as usual, entered the family's small chapel shortly before dinner, facing the sacred emblem of the Goddess of Night, and assumed the posture of prayer. Yet, the prayer she quietly recited was: "An fool out of this age..." After pronouncing the name, Audrey reported succinctly: "Herwin Lembis is missing." "He has been labeled a heretic and is currently being pursued by all three major churches..." As she finished recounting this, Audrey was about to shift her focus and begin to pray earnestly to the goddess when suddenly vast patches of gray-white mist surged before her eyes. At the center of the mist, a faint figure sat in a chair, gazing down gently and nodding: "I understand." As soon as this hidden presence spoke, the scene before Audrey changed abruptly, revealing a figure deeply engaged in prayer: "The great 'Knight of Cups,' the Night Church has received intelligence from Qunus Colg, confirming that King George III harbors profound secrets. To secure the 'Emperor of Blood' relics in the Tassok River region of Strilivin, he has forged alliances with the Order of the Women, the Society of Psychological Alchemy, and has been trafficking people, causing numerous disappearances—ultimately leading to the great smog crisis in Bekland. The representative of the Order of the Women was initially Panatia, the 'Despair Nightingale,' and later became Caterina, the 'White Saint.' The Society of Psychological Alchemy is led by Hewen Lambis. Please remind the 'Justice' Lady to remain vigilant whenever she encounters Hewen Lambis, and to be prepared to request assistance at all times." Your Majesty... Audrey's eyes widened slightly, her heart surging with emotion, unable to contain it. On one hand, the news had deeply shaken her as a noblewoman; on the other, her "accoutrements of lies" amplified the emotional impact. Almost simultaneously, a report flashed through her mind—one that had left a profound impression: "…According to preliminary statistics, more than 21,000 people died directly in the severe smog, and the subsequent epidemic claimed an additional nearly 40,000 lives, including young children and healthy young adults…" So that was it… What was the king really planning? The three great churches must not have secured concrete evidence, otherwise her father would not have been troubled only to the extent he had just been. Audrey felt a surge of indignation, mingled with sorrow—as if a principle she had long upheld had been callously disregarded, as if a value she had cherished for years had quietly collapsed. She instinctively lowered her head and closed her eyes. Then, she took a quiet breath and murmured, "Thank you, Sir Fool. Please also convey my gratitude to Sir World." After the prayer, Odile sat in the still darkness, motionless for a long time.