In a hotel within the Beikland Bridge district, Crane found that while his thoughts remained his own, everything else was beyond his control—his eyes struggled to move. He was certain this was the deep "parasitism." In this state, he could only watch with fear and despair as the figure now wearing single-spectacle glasses, transformed into the appearance of Amun, smiled and stepped backward in a counterclockwise motion, then opened his mouth to softly recite in precise Mandarin: "Fú shēng xuán huáng xiān zūn." ...Was it stealing the thoughts he had just formed, or was it his command of Mandarin? It must be the former—otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to master this ritual. Crane's pupils remained contracted, his inner anxiety unprecedented. Amun, now wearing the glasses, seemed to sense his emotional state, glanced at him, smiled, and took another counterclockwise step, softly reciting in Mandarin: "Fú shēng xuán huáng tiān jūn." Then, this "profane one" carried out the ritual with remarkable skill, and with every step he took and every incantation he uttered, Caine's heart grew heavier and heavier in the deep, dark marsh, as though there was not a single glimmer of dawn to be seen. "...Fu Sheng Xuan Huang Tian Zun." As Amen took his final step and recited the last incantation, an endless expanse of gray-white mist suddenly rose before Caine's eyes, and a layered chorus of prayers filled his ears. Without needing to listen closely, a sudden inspiration brought him clarity: After attaining the rank of "Ancient Scholar," he now had a basic command over the "Source Citadel"—anyone, regardless of whether they possessed the correct rites or incantations, must now receive his permission to enter beyond the gray mist! Refuse Him! Caine's heart leapt with immediate delight, and a clear thought formed. Yet, as soon as that thought arose, he forgot it entirely, standing there as if carved from stone. Amon had stolen the intent to refuse. "……" Kline once again felt himself overwhelmed with despair, yet the gray-white mist before him and the prayers echoing in his ears did not fade. ……Kline was first startled, then suddenly understood: I see! Kline must personally go to the gray mist, take command of the "Source Citadel," and issue the authorization—only then could Amon enter! There was no option of mere tacit approval! This insight felt like a slender reed, and Kline grasped it without hesitation, lest he sink silently and coldly into the water, unnoticed. Though he still didn't know how to harness this situation, his intuition told him that the only hope, the slender possibility, might lie precisely here. At that moment, Amon ceased his efforts and turned his gaze toward Kline. Clearly, Amon had failed to enter the "Source Citadel." The "Angel of Time" adjusted his single-vision glasses on his right eye, smiled calmly without changing his expression: "Mr. 'The Fool,' your idea of self-rescue is quite interesting." Amun spoke in standard Roonese, yet each word seemed to summon natural forces, triggering one wave after another of "explosions" within Caine's mind. ...How could he be certain I am 'The Fool,' rather than a follower of 'The Fool'?... Caine felt a sudden chill run through his body; the hope that had just begun to rise once again sank back into the depths. "How can I be certain?" Amun hummed, drawing the chair he had just sat on and indicating the round stool across from him. "Sit down, please—no need to be formal." As soon as he finished speaking, Caine found himself moving without conscious effort, stepping over and settling into the round stool. Amon surveyed the room, reached out, and snatched Caine's black silk hat, placing it upon his own head. With a smile, he said, "Did you really think I didn't know the ritual would ultimately fail? How long has 'The Source Keep' been in turmoil—how could I have forgotten? I simply wanted to see your reaction. Your instinctive despair and your immediate refusal were quite interesting. If you weren't the very 'Fool' you claim to be, how could you have thought such a thing? Dear Mr. Fool, is that correct?" Klein hurried to control his body, but he was completely unable to do so. The very next moment, as he prepared to recite the sacred name of "The Goddess of Night," that thought instantly vanished. The lean figure of the "Disbeliever" Amun adjusted his single-spectacled glasses on his right eye, maintaining his enthusiastic demeanor and said, "Then you'll be reborn in 'The Source Citadel'?" ... Talking to this man—seems the more I speak, the more I go wrong... Klein pressed his lips tightly shut and remained silent. Seeing this, Amun smiled and shook his head gently. "You needn't be so afraid. In truth, there's no irreconcilable conflict between us." Hmm... Klein, sitting like a puppet on the round chair, blinked in surprise and said nothing. Amun leaned slightly forward, meeting his gaze, and continued with a smile, "Our only conflict is 'The Source Citadel.' But truly, do you wish to bear that fate? Are you not at all concerned that the original owner of 'The Source Citadel' might revive within you?" “…That statement touched the very point that Cline cared about most, leaving him momentarily at a loss for words. Amun adjusted his single-piece crystal spectacles, didn’t urge Cline to respond, and smiled gently: ‘You hand over the “Source Citadel” to me, and all your concerns will be settled. Then, whether the original owner of the “Source Citadel” can be revived, and whether the corresponding fate can bear the weight—those will be my concerns, not yours. Furthermore, the pursuit of the “Gate” and the young Charathus, the gifts of the night, and my brother’s subsequent arrangements—these will all be matters I take upon myself to worry about instead of you. And you, free from all this, will simply be your own Sequence 3. Ah, why would I need to kill you? What necessity is there for me to kill a Sequence 3? Even if I wish to reclaim certain traits, they would be merely incidental. My targets will always remain Paleis, Charathus, and the “Gate”—the rest, I shall decide based on my own mood.’” "As for the organization you've established, I can take over and keep it running—this is quite interesting, truly fascinating. If you think this price isn't sufficient, I can make you one of my followers, hmm? In Silver City, didn't you pretend to be either the 'Fool' or the 'Hour Angel' Amun? Well, from now on, you can become real. I will guide them out of the 'God-Abandoned Lands' and show them the light beyond. At that point, you'll have the opportunity to advance to Level 2 and become an Angel. ...That...that's simply taken over all my worries and challenges—leaving only the benefits. Klein, who has never particularly desired to become a true god or to fully control the 'Source Citadel,' is deeply moved. If he hadn't already known that Amun was the very top-tier deceiver, he would have agreed on the spot. Yet, ultimately, he speaks with a composed, expressionless tone: 'Kill me.' 'You'll only say this one thing?' Amun doesn't seem at all displeased. He watches Klein with genuine interest. To Him, it was simply enough fun—difficulties encountered along the way were entirely imaginable, and they would only make the joy after success even richer. I'm just a relentless repeater... Klein used his complaints to ease the pessimism and despair in his heart, and instead of answering, asked, "How do you know that the Silver City believes the 'Fool' is you?" He hadn't dared to mention that the Silver City still doubted the 'Fool' was the deity now worshipped by Amun, fearing it might anger the other party. Of course, if Amun were someone who lost his wits upon being provoked, Klein would have certainly tried that approach—since he himself now harbored such doubts. After initially securing the 'Source Citadel,' he believed his resurrection following his death would take place above the gray mist. Unfortunately, however, Amun wasn't the King of Angels of the 'Storm' path, but rather the 'Cunning God' who even the true deities of the Fourth Age found difficult to handle. Amun chuckled and said, "Did you really think I only had two bodies in the Silver City?" Since both you, the 'Fool,' and that 'Hanged Man' have become involved, I'm more than happy to simply observe quietly." ...There are still remnants of Amun in the Silver City...where will they take root...Ah, the members of the earlier expedition team to the 'Giant King's Court' haven't been infected—this is certain. While克莱恩's spirit tightened, he also felt this was entirely logical, as Leonard had once told him that seeing one Amun meant there were likely many more lurking around, not just a few. Without further thought,克莱恩 made a concerted effort to regain the initiative, creating opportunities: "You're not directly claiming my fate because you can't yet bear the weight of it?" Amun nodded calmly: "Yes, precisely. Therefore, I wish to reach a peaceful agreement with you. "But since you've declined, I'll have to take you to meet my true form, to a safe location, and then claim your fate. In that case, your outcome won't be as I described earlier." As he spoke, the man with black hair, black eyes, broad forehead, and slender face slowly rose and walked toward the door,克莱恩 following suit, like a statue. As he reached out to open the door, Amun seemed to recall a question, pressed the single crystal spectacles against his nose, turned slightly, and looked back at克莱恩: "What is your fourth title as an 'Ancient Scholar'?" In the discipline of mysticism, each entity does not necessarily have a strictly defined title—so long as the title is presented in the correct format and includes sufficient descriptive detail to eliminate ambiguity, it can clearly refer to the specific hidden entity. This explains why many heretics, lacking deep understanding of mysticism, often invent titles at random and still receive meaningful responses. Of course, if the title is not one that the hidden entity itself has bestowed, it cannot enjoy the privilege of automatic response. Whether a connection is established depends entirely on whether the entity finds the seeker interesting. Previously, Amun had leveraged his knowledge of the "ancient scholars" and of Germán Sparo, using the "Thefters" pathway sequence 7—"Decipherer of Scholars"—to reconstruct Germán Sparo's full, precise title. Yet he had not attempted prayer, nor utilized the "automatic response" to establish a connection and pinpoint the other's location, because his divine intuition signaled that the fourth line was flawed and would inevitably fail. In Klein's mind, the correct fourth title instantly surfaced instinctively, though he decided not to share it with the other. At that moment, Amun opened his mouth and recited what he had just thought: "The guardian of magic and theatrical performances in Beckett." This "Hourly Angel," this "Sinner," paused for several seconds after finishing. Then he smiled—a warm, joyful smile. After smiling, he pushed his single-spectacled glasses set on his right eye and said with a smile, "Honestly, this is quite interesting." "Really, you're not considering becoming my follower?" Kline opened his mouth and uttered the familiar reply: "Then kill me." PS: Recommend a book, "The First Evolution," a novel by Ying Dang, the third installment in the Evolution Trilogy, featuring stellar battle scenes, an engaging power system, and well-intelligent characters. It's currently gaining momentum.