That's quite good... Facing Amun's praise, Caine managed to force a smile and responded politely, "Thank you." Honestly, he preferred to hear criticism rather than compliments—criticism at least signaled that he was close to success. Of course, Caine doubted that even if he managed to escape, Amun would be truly furious. Given this "God of Mischief's" nature, Amun likely found the situation both fascinating and stimulating, yet simultaneously a bit disheartened and disappointed, eager to move on to the next phase. "Thinking of using 'doors' to disrupt me is a significant improvement," Amun said with casual amusement. "But don't you think that when I'm actively 'opening' doors, I'm in a more alert state—thus, less susceptible to unexpected interruptions?" Klein thought for a moment and replied seriously: "At first, I thought that way, but later I realized you must understand my psychological state—believe that I wouldn't have taken action when you opened the door. Perhaps, at this very moment, trying something new could prove remarkably effective. Doing something precisely when others believe you won't is itself a strategy. In my previous life, I had encountered similar levels of mental博弈, and I was completely overwhelmed. 'What if I've also grasped this level of insight?' Amun smiled, pushing the rim of his glasses with the joints of his fingers. At the same time, the surviving secret figures belonging to Klein sequentially drew out single-lens spectacles carved from crystal from their bodies and from the void, placing them on their right eyes, all turning their gaze directly toward Klein. This made Klein's scalp tingle with unease, as he noticed his connection to the figures suddenly severed. 'Although there has been progress, failure always comes with its own penalties.' Amon smiled and turned, walking toward the church. With each step He took, the secret figures one by one broke into smiles, then fell stiffly, tearing at Caine's soul again and again, causing the veins on his temples to visibly swell and contract. Enduring this agony, Caine stood still, steadying himself for a long while before finally regaining composure. Though he remained deep within the darkness throughout this time, he neither faced a terrifying monster's assault nor transformed into a hidden state. When had Amon seized the city's hidden divine power? If I attempt to end my own life, I'm certain my very thoughts will be stolen away... I simply wasn't prepared—my grasp of Amun wasn't strong enough, and I hadn't taken into account the things He had previously stolen... I never expected Him to release the "Day" He had taken from the ruins of the divine wars. What else had He stolen, what else stored within Him? I simply had no way of knowing, and thus couldn't prepare accordingly. That single eyeglass—wasn't it a vessel that held the things He had stolen? Wasn't it part of Amun himself? So every time He "inhabited" someone, He could draw upon a new eyeglass. Caine rubbed his temple and stepped back into the church, gazing at Amun before the lighted door, and asked casually, "Why do you have so many single eyeglasses? Where do you keep them?" Amun gently touched the single eyeglass on his right eye, smiled with mild indifference, and replied, "Why didn't you ask me why each of my manifestations has eyes, and where they're kept?" "...I see now." Klein nodded with a moment of clarity. Amun shifted his gaze back to the still-unsettled portal, speaking casually: "I've always felt your current mission is more of a major preparation than a mere attempt. 'What small maneuvers did you make during that process just now?' " Klein paused thoughtfully, maintaining his smile and replied: "You猜." "I do have some thoughts—do you think I've guessed correctly?" Amun asked, gently pressing the edges of his single-frame spectacles with interest. "Perhaps yes, perhaps no," Klein said without committing to a definite answer, and then moved to stand beside Amun as He reached out again, this time touching the pale portal. Ripples surged across the portal once more, growing more intense and more dramatic. After a few seconds, the ripples spread throughout the surrounding area, causing the portal to expand to twice its original size. Amun glanced at Klein and gestured for him to take a step forward. Klein instinctively turned and surveyed the surroundings of the church. Beyond the illuminated zones of the leather lanterns, certain extraordinary traits left by the distorted monsters were glowing faintly—traits that had not been present in the creatures' lives prior. Many of these beings had not originally been extraordinary; ordinary people who had transformed into monsters had drawn much of their power from darkness and decay, a power that was foreign to them and not intrinsic. "I almost forgot," Amun suddenly shook his head and smiled, as he went through the circle. As soon as he finished speaking, clusters of extraordinary traits rose up, drifting into and merging with him, leaving only a few still suspended in place. "Most of the monsters who have actively transformed were extraordinary individuals following the 'Apprentice' path, along with their families, who could access the city's underbelly." Amun returned his gaze, adding this casually. Even among similar pathways, wouldn't such direct "consumption" cause issues? Shouldn't they only be able to ascend to the next level of a similar path? Could they also be compatible downward? Klein was momentarily stunned, wondering, "Won't this accumulate madness?" This wasn't just a matter of accumulating madness—Klein suspected that if he did this, he might very well go half-mad himself. "Others will," Amun smiled. "I won't." What a bug that was... Klein silently remarked to himself. Then, the distance between him and the portal vanished. Subconsciously, he forgot the residual extraordinary trait of the "Death God" path, and stepped into the portal alongside Amun. Infinite deep darkness intertwined with flowing, linear glimmers, creating a sensation of sudden freefall and weightlessness. A few seconds later, Klein found himself and Amun standing on a square, where the soft yellow glow of the leather lanterns seemed held back by an invisible force, illuminating only half their original range. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, brightening the surroundings instantly. With this flash of lightning, Caine saw statues standing scattered around the square, each one incomplete—some with their hands bound behind their backs, others wrapped in thorny rose vines, and others resembling mummies, all giving a clear sense of being "bound." "Originally, this was a city devoted to the Faith of the Otherkind King," Amun introduced the site to Caine like a seasoned guide, "They were quite interesting—usually restrained and quiet, much like ascetic monks. Yet when they encountered prey or specific moments, they would erupt into fierce, bloodthirsty violence. Imagine, on a full moon night, this city bustling with werewolves." It seems the original ideals of the Otherkind were also restrained... later warped by the "Tree of Desire"... Caine, using another surge of lightning, studied the statues more closely and asked: "Does the image of the Otherkind King resemble a mummy?" "No," Amun replied. "Though He is an ugly, distorted man, He particularly enjoys wrapping himself in thorny vines and rose stems." Amon chuckled. "...Klein seized the opportunity to ask, 'What kind of image do your followers venerate?' 'In mysticism, your symbol is a clock with the "Clock Insect"?'" Amon rubbed his chin. "Theoretically, my followers are all me—there's no need to go to the trouble of erecting statues." My followers are all me... Well, I'm fortunate to have Daniz as a devoted follower now. Klein suddenly found himself surprisingly similar to Amon in several ways. Of course, when I say 'my followers are all me,' it's a humorous anecdote; when Amon says 'my followers are all me,' it's straight out of a thriller—there's a clear stylistic difference. In the end, Klein quietly chuckled to himself. Amon continued walking while speaking: "However, during my father's time, many people followed my faith. Some based their image of me on the name 'Hourly Angel,' incorporating clock-related symbols into my iconography. Others, inspired by the title 'God of Jokes,' depicted me as a crow adorned with mysterious patterns. A few combined both elements." At this point, Amon, wearing single-lens glasses, suddenly turned his head and glanced at Caine, then smiled slightly and said, "We're no more than three days' journey from our final destination." That meant I only had three days left... Caine nearly gasped, his mental pressure suddenly mounting so intensely that it felt as though his nerves were about to snap. He still hadn't figured out Amon's true purpose in playing this game, nor had he detected any clear signs that Amon was guiding him toward specific actions. This meant he lacked a firm grasp of the key to the situation and hadn't yet found his real opportunity to break free. Just then, Amun's performance had made him realize that without being truly prepared, he might not even last ten seconds before Him. In an instant, Caine fell silent and followed Amun out of the square, scarred and devastated. ………… The streets were sparsely populated, with people moving swiftly. In the now-burnt city of Priz, the "Mysterious Queen" Bernadette, with her chestnut hair tied back, placed her newspaper down on the table. The front page of the *Tasok Gazette* carried the major news of the king's assassination, claiming the assassin hailed from either Fasak or Intis. "This isn't halting the disaster, nor is it worsening it," Bernadette murmured, her expression slightly serious. She paused, lifted the tablecloth, wrapped it carefully, then released her fingers, allowing it to unfold on its own. This time, the coffee cup, the pen holder, and the newspaper within the tablecloth vanished, replaced by silver candleholders and other ritual items. Bernadette immediately conducted the ceremony, summoning the messenger of Germain Spalro. As a collaborator, she felt it necessary to inquire about the other party's situation to determine whether further assistance would be needed. As soon as the ceremony was concluded, a figure emerged from the swelling candlelight—Renette Tynicol, bearing four golden-haired, red-eyed heads, dressed in a somber, elaborate gown, with nothing attached to her neck. Bernadette's eyelids fluttered slightly, then she reached for the letter and a coin she had prepared in advance and offered them to the messenger. One of Renette Tynicol's heads seized the letter and the coin, while the others studied the "mysterious queen" for several seconds. The figure then turned and stepped into the void. Yet, as Bernadette prepared to fold the tablecloth, the messenger suddenly reappeared.