7 Prestwick Street, North District, Beckett. After a busy day, Leonard finally had the chance to ask his question: "Old man, what is the 'Fortress of the Source'?" The slightly weathered voice in his mind paused for a few seconds, then said, "Hey—your weekly gathering place is likely the 'Fortress of the Source.'" "...", Leonard was completely unprepared for such an answer. His mind went blank, filled with astonishment, shock, and a mix of wonder—indeed, it wasn't without origin, after all. After a moment, he asked in a slightly hurried tone, "Then, exactly, what is the 'Fortress of the Source'?" Palis Soloyasdi smiled, as if sighing or chuckling, "In truth, I'm not entirely sure myself. I've only heard a few stories about it." "That differs from the creation myth you're familiar with. According to tradition, the first Creator left behind nine distinct things—some were kingdoms, others cities, rivers, oceans, and even keys. 'The Source Citadel' was one of them. It might not actually be a castle at all, but rather something else—what it truly looks like, you may know better than I do. I know it exists because, when I was elevated to an angel, I sensed it clearly, yet I could never see it or establish a connection with it. My grandfather once offered a hypothesis: that these nine elements might be linked to the 'Primordial Substance' described on the second 'Table of Profanation.' Unfortunately, at the time, He only saw a limited portion of the text and was unable to decipher the sections relating to the 'Primordial Substance.' Leonard has grown more composed, leaning back against the sofa, and thoughtfully asks: 'Grandfather, do you suspect that Mr. The Fool is, in fact, an embodiment of the 'Primordial Substance'?" Based on what he had observed during the tarot gathering and occasional anecdotes from the old man Palais, he already had a certain understanding of the hierarchy of the deities. Palais Soloyasde remained silent for a while before responding: “Perhaps….” Based on previous experiments, Kline knew this was the "Principle of Unity of Time and Consciousness" in mysticism—that at any given moment, each person's essence is uniquely their own, and if the essence is capable of thought, then there is no projection. Once the historical gaps of the deceased were summoned, the same principle held true. Kline suspected it was due to his current level of understanding. In short, others' projections could only offer relatively mechanical responses and instinctive combat actions; they could not provide answers to matters the "ancient scholars" themselves had not personally experienced or studied. This confirmed Kline's hypothesis that the fragments of history visible to the "ancient scholars" were precisely those that he himself had encountered and researched in reality—put simply, the historical fog required the "ancient scholars" to illuminate it one fragment at a time. Of course, Kline also suspected that if the historical fragments of a single event had already illuminated most of it, the remainder would naturally emerge. "At least the corresponding abilities won't be missing simply because I don't understand them—once there's imagery within the historical gaps, that very moment's state is fully recorded... That's sufficient." Kline glanced at the historical projection acting solely on instinct, and then his body suddenly vanished, dissolving into the gray-white mist. Since even Fugon's dog, not yet a fully realized 'ancient scholar,' could thrive within the historical gaps, it made no sense for a true 'ancient scholar' to be unable to do so—though there was a time limit, and if time passed too long, the real-world seikai would inevitably perish. Still, this would merely mean they would accompany the 'ancient scholar' in a different form. As Kline's physical form entered the luminous spots within the gray-white mist, his consciousness suddenly came alive within the historical projection. With a gesture, he pressed his hand against the top hat resting on his head. Klein, resembling Sherlock Moriarty, stepped outside the house and, as agreed, produced the "universal key," placing it against the door and giving it a gentle turn. His figure materialized instantly within the room, swiftly surveying the space under the rosy moonlight. The furniture—sofas, cabinets, high-backed chairs, and coffee tables—appeared to be quite aged, seemingly dating back to the previous century, and bore a notably old-fashioned charm. In the dim lighting, Sharon stood out prominently, seated on a high-backed chair, dressed in a Gothic court gown and wearing a small, soft hat of the same color. "Good evening," she nodded slightly, offering a greeting. If she had remained silent and motionless, she would have been the most refined and standard of all mannequins. At the same time, Marić emerged into view, standing near the sofa, dressed in a white shirt and black jacket. ……Mr. Marić, it's now winter—won't you find it a bit cold with this attire? Ah, yes. You are the "the Departed"—the "the Departed" do not fear cold... Clain muttered under his breath, removed his hat, and bowed to Sharon, whose pale face, golden hair, and blue eyes: "Good evening, Miss Sharon." He then half-turned to Mariqi, saying, "Good evening." Clain's deepest impression of this former "the Living Dead," now a "spirit of resentment," was that she somehow managed to play cards alongside the living corpses he himself commanded. Playing cards together—now, he silently sighed. It was only recently that I thought of playing cards, because when Klein previously analyzed the combat style of the "Ancient Scholars," he realized that if he encountered Charathus, their battle might very well unfold as a live card game: you play a "Magistrate Roscel," I play a "Great Emperor Roscel"; you play a "Bernadette," I play a "Bonavita"; if you play half a "Fool," I'll take on "Amun." Unexpectedly, the combat of the "Seers" has now truly become a card game—realized, intense, and exceptionally perilous. Still, Charathus is a Sequence-1 Angel, and he simply won't give me the chance to play cards. Moreover, when I summon the great figures from the historical rifts, my success rate isn't very high. Klein withdraws his gaze and turns to Sharon, saying: "I've recently been tasked with something that's both challenging and dangerous. One of the steps involves gathering blood samples from twenty-two different extraordinary individuals." For the "spirit of resentment" path, the only individuals I can think of who might assist are you and Marijch—both of whom are likely more adept at curses and capable of severing the bond between blood and the self. In fact, he could attempt to summon "the General of Blood," Senyor, right here and now, and mix his blood into the ceramic vessel. But whether this would prove effective remains uncertain to Kline—he cannot predict it through divination, as it involves aspects beyond Sequence 1 and lacks sufficient information. The only thing he is certain of is that drawing the symbol poses no danger to himself or the blood provider. Given the extensive capabilities of the "Ancient Scholar," Kline had even previously summoned the former "Witch" Triss, easily subduing her and applying her blood to the *Grosel Travelogue*. Yet, this intervention proved entirely ineffective. After careful consideration, Caine concluded that a logical contradiction in the timeline was responsible for the failure—the blood was an extra contribution from the past Trist, and the characters drawn in "The Grolsch Journey" must have been drawn from that past Trist, which would alter history. History, however, cannot be changed, thus the experiment failed. She merely brushed her wrist lightly, and there, a wound appeared—bright red blood surged out, not dripping downward, but rising instead, flowing into the glass tube. When the container was full, Sharon’s wound instantly healed, leaving no trace at all, and the stopper leapt to the tube’s opening, rotated several times, and sealed itself automatically. Throughout this process, Sharon’s face, no longer as pale as before, remained expressionless, as though she had suppressed all sensation within herself. She glanced at the tube of blood in her hands, then extended her left palm, gently touching it and slowly sliding it from top to bottom—this was to sever the connection between the blood and her body. Once finished, the tube of blood leapt upward and returned to Caine’s hands. "Is there anything else I can assist with?" Sharon asked, sitting calmly in her high-backed chair. "Not at the moment, thank you," Caine replied, shaking his head, and then snapped his fingers, causing a bright red flame to rise in his palm. The flame surged swiftly, enveloping the glass tube. When the crimson faded, the tube of blood had vanished. This was a new development of the "Flame Leap" ability, allowing him to transfer items from himself to his secret companion or his body. Beyond this, all of克莱恩's previous extraordinary abilities had also undergone corresponding enhancements and transformations. With his skills now refined, he turned his gaze once more to Sharon and casually asked, "How has your 'puppet' potion been working for you?" Upon first meeting Sharon, he had found her reminiscent of a doll, believing that whether due to her inherent nature or strict adherence to principles, this was essentially a pre-established performance—certainly beneficial for the digestion of the "puppet" potion. "It's been quite good," Sharon replied evenly. "Within another one to two years, I should be able to fully digest it." "It's been one to two years... Indeed, no matter how fast things move, it's always measured in years. Only I—less than six months. That's not something to be proud of. It's all arranged so clearly and precisely. Of course, if we count the time I've hung suspended above the Gate of Light, then it's measured in millennia... 'Wonderworker'... Perhaps, if I could escape this fate, I could truly be said to have created a 'wonder.' Klein murmured these thoughts to himself and then gently nodded. "What are your plans lately?" Sarlen replied, "We hope to restore the teacher's full health." Marich, sitting on the sofa, added, "But you mentioned that the head of the Monastic Order, Chalatu, is already in Bekland, with close ties to the Rose School, didn't you?" "Yes," Klein smiled. "Just be patient—there will surely be an opportunity." This is actually a form of reassurance. Even if he becomes an "ancient scholar," he will have plenty of helpers at his disposal, and he currently has no intention of confronting Chalatu—his complete Sequence 1 is absolutely terrifying beyond imagination. Moreover, the more deeply he pursues the path of the "seer," the more profoundly he comes to grasp Chalatu's terrifying nature and his difficulty to be defeated. After successfully preventing George III from becoming divine, Caine plans to leave Beckland altogether, giving himself more time to grow.