After getting a general sense of the situation, Caine looked at the full-length mirror in the room and asked, "What is the king's secret?" As if the surface of the mirror, gently rippling with a soft shimmer, gradually revealed a scene—a ruin deep within darkness, covered in layers of historical dust yet remarkably intact. That is, the king's secret lies within the ruins of the "Emperor of Blood." Is Arōdes hesitating to answer directly, or is he truly only able to see so far? Caine paused thoughtfully and then addressed the mirror, "It's your turn to ask." The scene within the mirror remained unchanged, only highlighting one silver word after another: "Great Lord, do you have any further questions?" "Yes," Caine nodded firmly. "Where is Princess Katharina of the White?" Within the mirror, the silver words swiftly faded and vanished, yet the background remained unchanged—still the ruins of the "Emperor of Blood." Had it not been for the appearance and disappearance of these words, I would have thought the "magic mirror" had crashed. Katharina was hidden within the ruins of the "Emperor of Blood"? The genuine one? Caine nodded thoughtfully. "It's your turn." On that scene, the silver words reappeared and coalesced once more: "Merciful Lord, why do you not leave Bekland?" That's a thoughtful question—I originally had this intention in mind. My initial investigation into the great smog crisis in Beckland stemmed from righteous indignation over the innocent poor dying under the care of old Kole, and from a growing sense of confusion about my own primary objectives. Later, I became tied to the identity of the Goddess's favored. Then, I began to want to prevent an impending disaster, to shield those I knew from the suffering caused by the upper echelons' ambitions, so that they wouldn't become victims of the current tide of change and drown in the era's currents—willing to take on certain risks for that purpose. Now, with the realization that a global war might be on the horizon, and that the promotion ceremony of the "Ancient Scholars" feels almost tailor-made, full of deliberate arrangements, I've come to understand that even if I truly wished to escape, I might not be able to. In other words, perhaps I could leave Beckland, yet I would likely still be bound by the fate I've carried from the very beginning. So, rather than merely trying to escape, I now see value in actively stepping into the adventure, embracing the risks, seeking to uncover the truth, identifying potential opportunities, and ultimately shaping Then, with a calm tone, he replied, "Leaving doesn't truly solve the problem." After that, Caine began asking, "Where is Tris currently?" Inside the full-length mirror, the scene finally changed—now it was completely dark, with occasional thick objects sliding across the surface. Arodos could also not see Tris's condition. Caine nodded slightly and said, "Now it's your turn." More ripples of water shimmered within the mirror, and strands of silver coalesced into clear sentences: "Great Lord, I have one thing I would like to tell you—may I?" "Go on," Caine responded, showing genuine curiosity. The individual silver words slowly shifted and formed new text: "You must be especially careful from now on!" With an exclamation mark... Was the mirror, Arodos, sensing something unfavorable? Caine paused for a few seconds and asked, "What do you think might threaten me?" "I don't know, a feeling..." Ardoes rearranged the words, transforming their silver hue into a pale gray, visually conveying a sense of frustration and self-blame. Without waiting for Cline's response, a sequence of new gray words emerged one after another from within the mirror: "Majestic Lord, I would like to present you with one more scene—would that be possible?" "Certainly," Cline replied, slowing his pace. Ripples spread across the surface of the full-length mirror, and the once-black expanse deepened, now adorned with sparkling points of light like diamonds. It was a beautiful, vast night sky. Was this scene pointing toward the essence of a goddess embodied as "stars," or rather the "starry sky" itself, as if Ardoes hesitated to express it directly? Cline pondered, deciding not to press further. "That will be enough for today." "Very well." "The gray-white words regained a silvery hue, yet their clarity seemed to slow down inexplicably, as if weighed down by significance. 'Great Lord, you—you haven't spoken yet. Should any further issues arise, I shall be summoned once more, your most devoted servant, Arodus...' How ceremonious the mirror is!" Klein chuckled. "Of course, I will summon you again whenever I have further questions." "Yes, Lord! Goodbye, Lord!" On the mirror's surface, the silver words resumed their normal pace and subtly outlined a simple sketch of someone waving repeatedly. Once everything returned to normal, Klein burned the paper bearing the summoning symbol, pulled back the curtains, and once again gazed at the cold, dim sky. ........ In the Queen's District, within a modest night church, both Hove and Folsen had received the message from Miss Justice, requesting that Mr. The Fool relay it—knowing that the matter was now resolved and gaining a general understanding of the King's secret. "Indeed, impressive." "Vorst, the divine embodiment of steam and machinery, opened her eyes in the dim, serene prayer hall and tilted her head slightly, speaking softly with a sense of reflection. She had originally intended to say 'Mr. World' or 'Germán Sparo is truly remarkable,' but now, such minor errors no longer occurred. In the past week, she felt as though she had been drifting through the mystical world for more than ten years. Hov also opened his eyes, and first drew a crimson moon upon his chest, offering a gesture of repentance for his earlier disrespect toward the goddess. 'Yes, that was indeed...' Hov's words were still forming, yet his meaning was clearly and precisely conveyed to Vorst. What she meant to express was that Hervin Lembis was a true half-god—yet, since Vorst and herself had entered this church, barely ten minutes had passed, and already Germán Sparo had defeated him. How could two saints differ so greatly!" "Perhaps so, a blessing from the angels..." Fothering, drawing on her experience with extraordinary events and novel writing, made a subtle guess. Given the quiet, dim atmosphere of the great chapel, which was truly unsuitable for conversation, Hugh did not respond directly to Fothering's words, merely nodded and rose, stepping into the corridor. As they walked side by side away from the chapel, Hugh only exhaled deeply and said once they were near the main door: "I truly hope one day I can be as remarkable as that." "I often find myself thinking that," Fothering smiled. "Anyway, you've certainly completed your investigation, haven't you? Though there are undoubtedly many secrets still to be uncovered, the overall picture has now become fairly clear." Hugh gazed ahead at the main door, lost in thought for several seconds, then said: "But what does it all matter? I can't do anything about it, nor can I make any real impact." "No, no, no. Simply in terms of adversaries, that person's status isn't particularly lofty—at least, we can look them in the eye." Vorths offered his friend sincere reassurance. "Once you undergo a transformation, you'll realize you'll have the capacity to participate in this matter, at least in the aspects not involving the higher echelons. Vorths, who has been part of the Tarot Circle for a long time, has personally witnessed the 'Knight of the Fool' orchestrating various initiatives. Through his followers and members of the Tarot Circle, the 'Knight' disrupted the arrival of the 'True Creator,' uncovered Bansi's secret, secured partial authority within the 'Storm' domain, and influenced the fate of the '0–08' figures. Compared to the angels, the Angel Kings, and even the true Deities involved, King George III is, indeed, rather unremarkable. Thew stepped slowly toward the door and remained silent for a moment before saying, "I understand what you mean now." "We'll head back to the East Quarter next, no need to rush the move just yet. Once I secure the 'Judge's' potion recipe, I'll fully retreat. I believe, after today's incident, they'll no longer dare to risk investigating us." "Definitely. They're just shadows hiding in the dark, afraid of the light." Folshe quickly agreed, then added with a sigh, "I only hope the letter from the teacher reaches me before our next move." Toue reached up to tousle his golden hair, stepping out of the church doors and speaking seriously: "Once I have the recipe, I'll purchase that button and make every effort to secure the promotion as soon as possible." "Good to hear—you're regaining your spirit," Folshe remarked with a smile. Toue said nothing, maintaining a serious expression as he continued walking. After walking several dozen steps, she suddenly stopped, facing forward without turning around: "My money should be enough, shouldn't it? Well, well, when the time comes, you'll have to lend me a little..." "I'll definitely repay you." Forsyth paused for a moment, then chuckled: "Very well. If my assumption is correct, I should be able to obtain the materials I need from my teacher." Faintly, a voice emerged from within the bottle: "Deposit one hundred gold coins, and your wish shall be granted... 'Deposit one hundred gold coins, and your wish shall be granted...' How did I learn this?... Indeed, these repetitive, monotonous words are quite effective in inducing a state of calm. If you truly commit one hundred gold coins, you effectively open the door to your mental being—thereafter, you will be at the bottle's mercy, becoming its servant... Klein analyzed the situation briefly and summoned the 'No Dark Cross,' using the pressure of the gray mist to insert it into the bottle's mouth. 'You devil!' the voice from within the bottle cried out fiercely, only to be silenced by the gray mist.