As Patrick Byrne recited, the various skulls surrounding the deep black coffin gradually took on a shade of pale green, blending with their natural white to create an intensely eerie atmosphere. The "Dance of the Spirits" grew more vigorous, as if voices emanating from the underworld continuously echoed throughout. One by one, the skulls rose into the air, as though endowing themselves with life. Then, in a seemingly chaotic yet orderly manner, they surged toward the heavy, dark coffin, seemingly weightless, passing through the lid and entering within. The coffin instantly transformed into an ever-expanding, deep vortex, filling with an icy, cold, and lofty presence—so profound that it caused Patrick Byrne to instinctively tremble and lower his head. This was the very essence of an angel, of a "High Officer of Death!" At that moment, the spirit-dancing followers of the Death God began to convulse and collapse to the ground, their consciousness growing hazy, as though drifting through the realm of the underworld. Yet, the "Fool" Kline, who had expanded his vision through prayers of the Secret Pair, breathed a quiet sigh of relief. For the method employed by the leader of the Divine Order's artificial Death God faction—the sleeping angel, the High Priest Hettel—had not surprised him at all. Hettel had directly extracted the information he sought from Patrick Brian, leveraging the Death God's established ability to subjugate and control lower-ranking beings. In essence, this was a form of psychological interrogation—one that Kline had mastered with considerable ease. Immediately, he summoned the "Red Priest" card into his hands and allowed it to enter his body. Instantly, Kline was clad in a deep crimson robe, formed from the sediment of blood, rust, and smoke; a weathered, dark golden mask with intricate patterns now adorned his face, and a crown embedded with red, blue, and green gemstones crowned his head. Then, he summoned all the mysterious forces within the gray mist, transforming them into an ever-flowing, intangible tide that gathered the pre-prepared paper figures and, through prayers of light, surged toward "the Immortal" Patrick Bryan. At that very moment, Patrick, whose body had just trembled under the teacher's fading presence, gave a slight shiver, as though he had seen a cascade of sacred wings unfolding. ——Caine had concealed the specific image of the Flame Angel, revealing only partial sensations, thus deliberately interfering with the visual effects. One after another, the sacred wings descended and then vanished, leaving Patrick with a sense of bewilderment as if he were experiencing a hallucination. As a Sequence 4 half-god, he quickly regained his composure, realizing that he no longer merely obeyed or felt helpless to resist the teacher's commands. His consciousness had seemingly been partially withdrawn, now elevated above his inner world, calmly observing all that unfolded. At the same time, as a devoted believer, Patrick Byrne had no hesitation in viewing the just-occurred "embrace by the angel" as a gift from the Death God—without a single doubt. Within the deep vortex formed by the now-black coffin, a voice aged and cool, as if it were drawing the soul directly from the body, resonated: "Good work. What have you learned recently in your efforts to awaken the gods?" Patrick Byrne immediately responded, half-truths and half-true sentiments, as instructed by the Lord of the Covenant. After a series of exchanges, the Death Domain Angel Hettel, on the other side of the vortex, expressed no skepticism, and spoke calmly: "Very well. Continue your efforts—I will support you." He paused, as though casually adding: "I'll assign you an assistant—a Sequence 5 'Gatekeeper'—to help you with your tasks and lighten your load." Was that what the Lord of the Covenant meant by being unconcerned about me? Indeed, the Teacher was unwilling to see me favored by the Divine, threatening His own position... Gradually influenced by Klein through their daily correspondence, Patrick Bryan, whose cognitive understanding had shifted, could no longer refuse such a well-intentioned gesture. He could only respond with a respectful tone: "Yes, Teacher." As soon as he finished speaking, the dark vortex suddenly expanded into a grand, double bronze door adorned with mysterious patterns—difficult to describe in specific sensations. With a soft creak, the door swung open, revealing a narrow crevice. Beyond the crevice lay an profound darkness, utterly still, as if deep within it, countless eyes were quietly watching from the outside. At that moment, a hand extended and rested upon the edge of the crevice. The skin of the hand was notably pale, revealing the underlying blue veins clearly. As the hand grasped and pulled, a figure stepped out from the doorway. It was a tall, young man dressed in a long robe of black with red accents, who had raised his hood. His facial lines were soft, with a warm brown complexion, clearly indicating southern continental heritage. His features were decent, though lacking in vitality. He stepped firmly on the solid ground beneath him, never once looking at Patrick Bryan, raised his head toward the sky, and with a slight upward curve of his lips and half-closed eyes, sighed: "This enchanting atmosphere..." As a非凡者 of the "Death" path, being ignored by someone below his rank inevitably stirred Patrick Bryan's irritation. Yet, in the presence of his teacher, he could say nothing and had to proceed step by step, following protocol. In contrast, the "Fool" Kline, hovering above the gray mist, reacted far more intensely. For through the "true vision" offered by the gray mist, he had clearly observed the unusual presence of the newly arrived "Gatekeeper." The "Guardian's" self-contained "inner realm" had undergone an odd expansion, encompassing every part of his bodily interior. Within this realm, there existed only one spirit—a young, handsome figure with red hair, marked by signs of decay across his face, bearing a banner-like insignia on his brow, clad in a blood-stained black armor. Caine recognized this spirit instantly: "The Red Angel" spirit, Sorren Einhorne Medici! This individual had returned to Bekland and had established a certain cooperative relationship with the angels of the人造 Death God faction within the Spiritual Order... Caine instinctively reached for the "Red Priest" card, prepared to house the "King" card, and summoned the "Sea God's Staff," intending to unleash a lightning storm upon the "Red Angel" spirit. Yet, in the span of a thought, he restrained himself, abandoning these plans. This hinders the Night Goddess's grasp and assimilation of the uniqueness of the Death God's path. As thoughts surged, Caine swiftly departed from above the gray mist, returning to the real world, allowing the secret double to quietly yet swiftly move away from the garment factory, joining his body in the teleportation. He had originally intended to create some startling experiences for Patrick Bryan after the ritual concluded and had even made preparations—now, he could only abandon these plans, lest the Red Angel spirit notice. Inside the garment factory, the young gatekeeper possessed by Sorin Einhorne Medici pulled his hood slightly lower and gently turned his head toward some point outside. It was where Caine's secret double, Khunus Colg, had previously hidden—nearly one kilometer away from the factory. After gazing for several seconds, a subtle smile appeared on the young gatekeeper's face. Patrick Byrne was about to speak, ready to reprimand the messenger of his teacher on behalf of the Living Church's artificial deity faction, the one responsible for the downfall of the Beckland leader. Yet, inspiration struck suddenly, and his body twisted oddly, his gaze shifting toward another building within the clothing factory. On the second floor of that building, behind the glass window of a certain room, a pair of lifeless black eyes was fixed upon them. Patrick Byrne's eyelid jumped, and his form vanished instantly. Ah! A cold wind surged, causing the glass window to silently decay, fracturing into countless "snowflakes" without a sound. Within the room, Patrick, dressed in a black robe with a slender frame, materialized. Before him stood the owner of the cold, lifeless gaze—a crude clay figure, seemingly poorly crafted. Who made this figure? Who brought it here? Patrick Byrne carefully surveyed the surroundings, not missing a single corner. As he turned his gaze toward the corridor, his body slightly angled toward the window without glass, the crude clay figure suddenly had its dark eyes move, then raised both hands to grasp Patrick Bryan's neck. Just as the figure completed half of this movement, it seemed to lose its support, losing all vitality, with numerous cracks appearing across its surface, and instantly collapsing into a heap of fragments. Patrick Bryan's form first vanished, then reappeared on the corridor, gazing at the fallen clay figure with the demeanor of someone facing a serious threat. At that very moment, he had truly been startled—though he was familiar with the supernatural and had encountered many strange and eerie occurrences, the sudden coming to life of a figure without any external spiritual influence was still quite remarkable. The fragments of the clay figure lay motionless, silent, and Patrick Bryan patiently waited until he was certain there were no further anomalies. He then once again journeyed through the spirit realm and returned to the place where the ritual had originally been performed. At that moment, the heavy, black coffin had completely rotted, as if buried beneath the soil for several thousand years, while the believers who had sensed the realm of the afterlife gradually regained consciousness from a semi-comatose state. Patrick Byrne glanced around, but could not spot the young "gatekeeper" sent by his teacher—now seemingly having left without a trace. Didn't he come to monitor me? Patrick Byrne felt a moment of bewilderment as a half-god of the Path of the Dead. Considering the anomaly he had just noticed—the living clay figure—Patrick Byrne didn't hesitate; he quickly awakened the believers, gathered up the scene, and began attending to the traces. When he finished all this, he suddenly heard a voice: "Is this clothing factory yours?" Patrick Byrne's figure vanished and reappeared, now facing the speaker—none other than the young "gatekeeper" who had earlier gone missing. "No," Patrick said, frowning slightly. How could he possibly be doing all these things within his own ready-made garment factory, exposing himself and thus eliminating his escape routes? "Not too foolish," the young gatekeeper nodded gently. Patrick's eyes narrowed slightly, suppressing his irritation and asking, "Where have you been?" The young gatekeeper chuckled, "I just wandered around some familiar spots and dropped by to see a friend."