Only when the two glowing, deep-red flames swayed from Fugan's dog and settled before Caine did he regain consciousness, a wave of puzzlement followed by a surge of relief washing over him: "Why have they willingly sacrificed themselves, forming a pair of eyes for me? And why does the surrounding blood flow thick and viscous, almost like paste? If this is their trap, I must have already stepped into it—yet I stood there, motionless for several seconds. In a 'Mystic Mage's' battle, that is a fatal mistake. "Yet, no matter who encounters such a situation for the first time, one inevitably reacts this way—when the very enemy one has meticulously prepared to defeat kneels before you, bows low, and pleads for mercy, as though it were all happening in a dream. "This behavior bears such a strong resemblance to Arodes. Could it truly be that the 'Great Being beyond the Spirit Realm' manifests in a manner so distinct within the Spirit Realm itself?" In the span of a thought, Caine glanced at the two福根 dogs lying motionless in the void, their tails swaying, and extended his left hand, catching the two clumps of dark red flames and the substantial amounts of thick, deep red blood. As soon as he made contact with these elements, a familiar murmuring and roaring erupted in his ears—sharp at times, low at others, passionate, alluring, frenzied, ethereal, and sometimes wildly disoriented. Immediately, a shimmering, pale gray mist filled his vision, spreading out around him without clear boundaries, with a majestic palace rising above, resembling a divine abode. This was a scene Caine knew well—each time he entered the mysterious space above the gray mist, he passed through something similar. At first, after walking backward four steps, he found it difficult to notice his surroundings; but as he grew accustomed to it and his sequence progressed, he gradually became able to observe more effectively and seize opportunities for awareness. Yet at this very moment, Caine did not softly chant the name "Fusheng Xuanhuang Tianzun," nor did he step out in a counterclockwise motion. This made Caine exceptionally alert. Then, within the boundless gray mist, several forms gradually emerged, indistinct and wavering—sometimes overlapping, sometimes separating—each one blazing with a deep crimson flame and covered in dark short fur, unmistakably Fugeng dogs. The two Fugeng dogs that had previously lost one eye returned to their companions and merged into the darker patches within the mist. All the phenomena vanished. Floating deep within the spiritual realm, Caine now realized that "around him" there were no longer any Fugeng dogs, only his two secret companions and the peculiar spiritual beings drifting in the distance. ...Caine lowered his head, examined the "eye" and the blood in his hands, and confirmed through the presence of these sensations that what he had just experienced was no illusion. The dogs of Fugen are also known as the Guardians of Genbu... they exist within the temporal gaps of the spiritual realm's history... I just witnessed them active within the gray mist, blending seamlessly with the darker patches... Drawing upon what I have seen and experienced, Caine gradually formed a bold hypothesis: "Perhaps Genbu refers to that mysterious space above the gray mist, to that peculiar luminous gate... "The gray mist itself is a symbolic manifestation of all the intertwined histories within the spiritual realm, containing inherent gaps... "Every time I pass through the gray mist into that mysterious space, I leave behind a trace, making the Fugen dogs familiar with me, and thus viewing me as the steward of Genbu. That is why, as soon as I appear, they immediately present me with the items I need, tail wagging in eager appeal? "I had planned for a full day, gathered all the necessary information, invited helpers—only to find myself aiming at my very own guardians?" "Thinking about this, Caine felt strangely absurd—like the 'Fool' atop the gray mist had extended a black hand to pluck some wool, only to end up pulling himself along. 'Hmph... Source Keep... Though this development is growing more frightening with each passing day, at least now I have a certain level of understanding about the master of the gray mist and that enigmatic realm. Uncertainty, after all, is the most terrifying thing...' After standing silently in the deep reaches of the spiritual realm, Caine slowly exhaled, summoning back the two secret figures. He intended to wait until the 'Weird Mage's' elixirs were fully absorbed, then seek information about Source Keep from places like the 'Magic Mirror' Arordes. Should anything truly go wrong, he would be able to counteract it through his own advancement. Forsyth reached for the newspaper, rubbed her mouth, and yawned. "That's quite good. The editor I know really liked the theme and style of my new book and has decided to schedule a serialized run as soon as possible. You wouldn't believe it—recently, the horror legends of Beckland Hospital have become quite popular, with several bestselling novelists drawing inspiration from them and launching their own serialized stories. I wasn't even the first!" "...That's good," she said after a moment, nodding seriously. "It means that Forsyth, writing about the same Beckland Hospital horror legends, won't stand out as much, and her new pen name won't be put to the test." "I know," Forsyth said, setting the paper aside and pulling out a few letters from within. She quickly flipped through them. Soon, she found her teacher's reply—Dorian Gray Abraham. Folth's expression grew considerably more serious as she swiftly tore open the envelope, unfolded the letter, and began scanning it: "…Benjamin Abraham was an Inthian who lived during the Roxel period… Aside from some knowledge in esoteric studies and a modest inheritance, he left behind little of value… All of that was later destroyed by the Aurora Circle, and I am unable to provide any corresponding documentation…" Mr. Garmen Sparrow would be disappointed… Folth pursed her lips, performed a small trick, and burned the letter to ash in her hands. Then she began drafting a reply, inquiring whether her teacher knew of the secret ruins of the "Blood Emperor" Alistair Tord. …The thread of Benjamin Abraham had now been severed… All due to the madmen of the Aurora Circle… Klein arrived upon the gray mist, listening to the prayers of the "Magician" Miss. At the same time, he learned of the ongoing serialization of the hospital's terrifying legends in Beckland. Back in the real world, Kline was about to head out for dinner when he suddenly saw the messenger girl stepping out of the void, holding four heads, one of which was biting a letter. "Who sent this?" Kline asked, slightly puzzled. Rynette Tynicol's remaining three heads responded in turn: "By temptation..." "The..." "The fool..." Who exactly is this... Kline grew more bewildered, took the letter, and unfolded it to read: "The real culprit behind all these events is George III, whose goal is to become the 'Black Emperor.' Would you like to disrupt this?" "Trist?" Trist? This mage dares to write to me? Doesn't she fear being caught by the messenger girl right here? Ah—she mentioned the sender as "a fool tempted"—Trist had tempted a man to help summon the messenger, then stayed far away, waiting for him to reach out through the mirror? She still has a sharp mind, really... Well, she's so determined in pursuing this matter—doesn't she worry at all about being eliminated by me or by King George III? That man is clearly extraordinary; for ordinary people, summoning a messenger is no easy feat, as it largely depends on their own spirit and spiritual essence. Kline was first astonished, then it dawned on him. Soon after, he began to wonder how Trish could have deduced that George III intended to become the "Black Emperor." Without sufficient knowledge of mysticism, without mastery of the "Black Emperor's" divine ascension ritual, without understanding the relevant history—how could she have made such a confident prediction? It certainly doesn't sound as effortless as the "Red Angel" spirit had described! Could Trish have other allies? Or perhaps she has drawn upon greater powers from the "Primordial Witch"—including accumulated knowledge and hidden secrets? Kline furrowed his brows, growing increasingly convinced that the situation on that side was serious. If given the chance, he would certainly eliminate the witch Trish. After thinking for several seconds, he pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen from his clothing pocket, writing swiftly: "We have some interest, but we're not quite sure how you'd like us to proceed." ........ In the Beckland Bridge area, a man in his thirties watched in horror as the four-headed female spirit—previously appearing only moments before—now stood before him, dropping a letter. "Are messengers from the world of mysticism this intimidating?" It wasn't until nearly five minutes after Renette Tiniel had departed that the man took a deep breath, picked up the letter, and opened it. As he did, his gaze grew increasingly warm, stirred by the joy of seeing that enchanting woman once again. As instructed, he waited until evening to find a dark, paste-like substance, carefully separating a portion and evenly applying it to a mirror. A few seconds later, the mirror grew dim, as if connecting to another world. In the span of a blink, the room reflected in the mirror had transformed into something entirely different from the current surroundings, where a young woman dressed in a deep black gown stood gracefully and beautifully—none other than the sorceress Trist. The man who had completed the ritual immediately grew enchanted, his voice softening naturally. "The reply indicates a certain interest," he said. Trist's gentle smile, like subtle ripples spreading across her cheeks, gradually bloomed, brightening the space both within and beyond the mirror. With a serene expression, she replied, "I'll send you a letter, to be delivered to Germaine Sparrow—please, don't read its contents." After receiving the man's firm promise, Trist extended her right hand and gently brushed it across the mirror surface, erasing the lingering, deep water glow. She immediately fetched paper and pen, paused for a few seconds, and wrote swiftly: "The secret tomb required for King George III's ceremony should come from 'Emperor of Blood' Alastair Tudor. There is one entity who knows this well and might help us gain access, allowing us to carry out sabotage during the ceremony. I can reach out to that entity, but I must wait until the next full moon. In the meantime, all you need to do is provide me with some blood, hair, flesh, or white bone from a descendant of the Abraham family. Tris."