Upon the still, gray-white mist, Careen sat quietly at the head of the weathered long table, as if a statue composed of stone that had existed there for hundreds or even thousands of years. He felt an authentic, deep-seated fear regarding his recent discovery, a cool surge spreading from the back of his head through his entire body, bringing forth a subtle yet tangible tremor. It was as though he had watched a close friend transform within a short span of time into a stranger—unfamiliar in mannerisms, as if someone had taken their place. There were even clearer, more immediate metaphors: when Leonard Mitchell came to visit Careen to discuss the matter of Parés Soloyasde, he suddenly produced and put on a single-piece pair of spectacles. Had the Emperor, since ascending the Red Moon, been subtly infiltrated without realizing it, remaining entirely unremarkable in his daily demeanor, only revealing faint, imperceptible signs when reflecting upon past events through his diary, when analyzing his inner thoughts, and engaging in dialogue with himself? Or is this Adam’s hypnosis? Yet at this moment, Roscel is at least Sequence 1... Kline couldn’t help but glance down at himself, imagining the presence of another version of himself—unknown, entirely unfamiliar—whose very existence he hadn’t even realized, and who perhaps couldn’t be called a human at all. What a profound terror this truly is... Kline took a slow, steady breath, forcing his attention back onto Roscel’s imperial diaries. Soon, he found content worthy of close reading: "July 28: I attended another gathering of that ancient and secretive organization. From the members’ casual conversations, I sensed a concern: 'Is it because I’ve risen too quickly, with relatively thin experiences, that I’ve never heard of so many things?' For instance, the contamination originating from the stars and the earth’s depths—today, I learned of their very existence for the first time!" "Heh, I really don't know how many of them are actually Him—besides a few key members, most of them are quite reluctant to let others know just how advanced they currently are. Taking advantage of the moment when others were chatting, I quietly asked the elderly Mr. Hermes beside me, hoping to gain a deeper understanding of the pollution affecting the stars and the underground. Hermes told me that this knowledge is beyond what I can currently grasp—it's not just that I'd need to understand it; simply gaining awareness of it would itself pollute me! That sounds incredibly severe—what could possibly be causing such a phenomenon? Now I'm even more curious. Later, Mr. Hermes added that the pollution originating from the underground can be largely ignored, as it naturally dissipates over time. In the ancient times, when the primordial gods were most active, powerful beings attempted to completely resolve this issue, but in doing so, they ended up making matters worse and incurring significant losses. Eventually, they abandoned the idea of directly intervening and instead chose to seal it off and simply monitor it." "From now on, although occasional surprises still occur, the situation has generally stabilized. Today, even without seals or attendants, as long as no one approaches or attempts to delve deeper, no contamination events have taken place. "This truly feels like a surprise to me—seems as though I no longer need to serve as the protagonist of my era to resolve this issue. "Mr. Hermes again referred to the stars, stating that the situation there is more complex, fascinating, and perilous than I had imagined. He explained that even the angels of Sequence 2 and Sequence 1 possess only a general awareness of the stars, lacking a deep understanding. They are aware of the dangers, but are unaware of the many other elements present beyond those dangers. Without having once encountered a being skilled in traversing the stars—through whom he learned a great deal—he would not be able to speak with such confidence about the current state of affairs. "I asked curiously, yet with modest expectations, who this being skilled in wandering the stars was." "Mr. Hermes didn't hide it—he mentioned Mr. Berthold Abraham, the 'Gate'先生." "'Gate' Mr.—I pretended not to know much about him, simply asking casually about his status." "Mr. Hermes didn't directly answer. He only said that during the Fourth Age, even angels and half-gods would often call each other by name. Only a few—like the 'Gate' Mr.—had the ability to gradually make everyone accustomed to using titles. The others, such as Night, Storm, and Earth, were exceptions." "Indeed... Mr. Gate's status must be quite high." Does contamination originating from beneath the earth naturally dissipate over time? "The Mirror," Arōdes, said, noting that the gray mist reminded it strongly of things from the depths. It wished for me to return to the throne before venturing down there. Yet Luká Brusté insisted firmly that the higher the sequence, the greater the danger posed by things from the depths. Mr. Klein lightly tapped the weathered edge of the long table, growing increasingly puzzled about what exactly was going on down there. Fortunately, Hermes's description, the condition of the abandoned castle, and the "Night Goddess's" demeanor all suggest that the subsurface contamination indeed naturally dissipates over time—simply leaving it undisturbed is likely the best course of action. Inhale. Then, let's temporarily set aside our concerns about the underground. Hermes's words, coupled with the bronze gate deep within the city of miracles, Liviahde, seem to confirm one another: "The Dragon of Imagination," Angerwied, had indeed attempted to address the subsurface issues, yet all that remained were fear and shadows. Currently, it appears that the greatest threat may stem from the stars, while my current sequence still lacks even the qualification to understand it. As thoughts flowed through him, Klein sighed slightly and continued flipping through his journal. After scanning several pages, his eyes suddenly brightened, and he fixed on one entry: "December 31st—the end of the year. This is the most fitting day to make a decision and begin a new story." "I've already decided on the locations for the eight secret tombs—only the last one remains undecided. This one must be more concealed than the previous eight, or else it would lose its significance. After prolonged contemplation, I've found a place: the unnamed island where Grein is buried. Of course, the Deep is also an option, though in the region I can currently access, I haven't found a single living demon to tame and integrate into my people, who would then help build the tombs. Ordinary humans simply cannot survive there, and even powerful extraordinary beings struggle to withstand the inherent erosion of the Deep itself. Regardless, the current conditions on that unnamed island appear quite favorable. Hmph—the Fourth Age's 'Sovereigns of the Order of the Slaying of the Sequence' have an astonishingly narrow understanding of their people. The Emperor's dominion extends far beyond mere humans and humanoid beings; all sentient life must be my subjects!" "And on that unnamed island, there are many extraordinary beings of little intelligence who have long believed in me and followed me—entities I could easily command to build secret tombs. As I wrote this, I suddenly recalled that experience: having dreamed of Green, I returned with Edwards and Benjamin to that unnamed island, only to find the extraordinary beings living in harmony, gathering together to perform rituals, with Green among the deceased. I was truly startled then, struck by a sense of fear I hadn't felt in a long time—the whole scene seemed profoundly strange. That time, William died, and so did Perley; only Edwards and Benjamin survived. If I hadn't grown strong enough to wield the 'Zero' Seal, everyone would have been buried. The force that influences these extraordinary beings on the unnamed island originates from the stars, and those who die from that pollution return to their source after death." "Good news—luckily, the power emanating from the stars only projects a small portion into the real world. In the end, I managed to resolve the issue and turned that unnamed island into my secret base. 'Now, it's time for it to take effect!' Upon reading this journal entry, Caine didn't feel particularly delighted at having correctly guessed the location of the last resting place of King Rosel. Instead, he furrowed his brows slightly. On one hand, the contamination from the stars was genuinely manifesting before him. On the other hand, the island itself wasn't as hidden as expected—besides the King, it was clearly known to both Edwards and Benjamin, two survivors, which didn't fully meet King Rosel's requirements. Had Edwards and Benjamin passed away normally prior to this, thus preserving the secret, or did King Rosel intend to keep them on the island indefinitely once the tomb was completed, and finally resolve the issue of spirit communication? Of course, if Roscel had corresponding seals or extraordinary abilities, he could have completely erased Edward and Benjamin's memories of that period. Kline remained silent for a moment, flipping through his journal once more, searching for the coordinates of the unnamed island. Yet, despite reading through the final pages, he found no mention of it. Instead, a single entry from Roscel's later years offered a faint glimpse into his thoughts: "December 27: Recently, I've been restless, uncertain about what comes next. I no longer crave assistance; mere neutrality from them would be sufficient. I've placed myself in the most perilous position—both a deliberate choice and one with no alternative. At times, I'm puzzled as to why I've gradually arrived at this point. Am I simply too rigid, or is this the only course available?" "No. At this stage, there can be no more hesitation. Any such uncertainty would only affect my mindset, making my already fragile hopes even more distant—there would be no point in it at all. 'We've already arrived here; we must simply keep moving forward. Success will naturally bring bright days.' 'Heh. All my hopes rest on one sentence: 'Only when placed in a state of death can one truly rise.' It seems the Emperor has truly chosen the path of first dying and then being resurrected—to escape the grip of madness and pollution. This is truly extraordinary—like playing a 'Russian roulette' game with six bullets, hoping that just one of them fails to fire. It's not something anyone who doesn't embrace extremes and thrives on sudden inspiration would even consider. Perhaps precisely because the enemy forces didn't anticipate it, the Emperor has found a glimmer of hope. Klein leaned back against the chair's backrest and sat silently in the ancient palace for a long while." Only after his scattered thoughts had gradually settled did he begin to consider how to find that unnamed island: "I remember that Benjamin who visited the unnamed island seems to be from the Abraham family—this can be confirmed by asking the 'Magician' lady... Well, I'll be meeting her soon, so there's no need to have the ' Fool' relay the message... It would be more appropriate to have the descendants of Edwards, William, and Perley ask the 'Mystic Queen'..." With his thoughts now clear, Caine glanced around, sighed, and then vanished into the gray mist. PS: Recommended book: *Men Are Children*, a work that offers a comprehensive portrayal of boys' growth into mature men from a male perspective.