"There are currently no 'Stellar Insects'... Let me see what other requests the teachers have for those seeking to purchase 'Stellar Insects'..." Folshe silently exhaled, relieved as she read through the letter. Yet, thinking ahead to the upcoming hunt for the 'Sacred Saint' Buthis, she felt a surge of anxiety. After all, Buthis is a being half-divine, half-human—once a Sequence 4 Saint just two years ago, and now possibly already a Sequence 3. "Although the initiative is led by the 'Reclusive' Lady, I still need to be mindful of my own safety as a lure. Moreover, behind the Aurora Circle stands the 'Redemption Rose' and the Angels, the Angel King himself..." Folshe did not regret having accepted Germain Spalro's request. It had always been her intention to pursue this journey, though the high level of risk had naturally caused her some hesitation and unease. This made her think of another possibility: "If the 'World' gentleman were involved and taking the lead, I'm certain I wouldn't be this tense or worried." It wasn't that Fotheringhame didn't believe in the strength and experience of the 'Hermit' lady—rather, the record of 'World' Germaine Sparrow spoke for itself. He had already slain half-gods, not just a few, and the thought of him undertaking a similar task simply brought a sense of reassurance. Sitting by the fireplace, Hugh glanced at his friend and asked, "Shall we begin the hunt?" "Yes," Fotheringhame nodded firmly, then added, "Not yet. Everyone needs some time to prepare." Hunting a half-god isn’t simply going out into the countryside in autumn to hunt foxes, bringing gear and gathering friends to set off—this demands absolute rigor and meticulous planning. For Vorth, she believes the Lady of the Hidden Ones must personally arrive in Beckett, or settle at the designated battlefield elsewhere, residing there for some time to fully understand the ground conditions before formulating an effective strategy. Meanwhile, the Lady of Justice is still actively digesting the Dreamwalker’s elixir, which may take another one to two months—or even longer. To Vorth, this is patient enough, as she also intends to fully absorb the Archivist’s elixir, establish rituals, and become the Traveler herself. The only uncertainty she has is whether the World, Germain Spalro, will urge her on. I'll try to persuade him—not to say, let the "Justice" lady persuade him, for that's the "audience's" strength... Just as Fothering had murmured a few words, he saw that Hugh had turned around and, hesitantly, said, "The liaison officer from MI9 proposed today that I formally join their team. With the new king now on the throne, many of the old concerns have been lifted—people like me now have a real chance at being reappointed." Fothering listened intently, then added thoughtfully, "But aren't they conducting a specific investigation into us? 'That should reveal a force operating behind the scenes.'" Hugh nodded. "After the incident last time, they've come to the conclusion that I've been sidelined. Moreover, they suspect this force belongs to the Church—the Church of the Night." Hugh himself believed in the Goddess of Night, so when he mentioned the Church, it was clear he meant the Church of the Night. However, considering his close friend was a devoted follower of the Goddess of Steam and Machinery, he added the clarification to avoid any ambiguity. "Heh, that's something the 'World' gentleman has us pretend." Vorth smoothed her hair with a relaxed expression, smiling. She then adopted a more serious and mature tone: "Rest assured, this is an opportunity for you. The role of a judge clearly requires official backing—by yourself alone, as the judge of the underground world of Beckland, you still lack both the strength and stature, and the necessary support. If you can serve in the Peace Court, the Circuit Court, and the Criminal Court for several months, your magic potions will fully integrate. Ah, I heard there's an 'Abnormal Affairs Court' within MI9, dedicated to handling cases involving extraordinary individuals. If you become a judge there, you might be able to aim for the rank of 'Disciplinary Knight' by early to mid-next year." "See, it's clear that you're eager, and Firth hurried to add, 'Once you've earned sufficient merit, you might well restore your father's reputation to some extent. After all, George III has passed away; as long as the matter doesn't tarnish his name, Lord Gower II probably won't object.' Gower is the eldest son of George III and has now succeeded as King of Roon, wearing the crown of Baylant. Following that, Folveth distilled the key points of her teacher's reply, articulated her own thoughts, and hoped that Germán Spáro would be patient. Just as she finished her prayer and prepared to leave the room, she suddenly felt a surge—seeing a deep red tide rise from the void, instantly engulfing her. Folveth found herself now inside an ancient palace, seated in the usual high-backed chair, yet the majestic figure draped in a gray-white mist, who had always occupied the head of the bronze long table, was gone. Around the weathered table, only she and "The World," Germán Spáro remained. "...", Folveth's spirit instantly tightened, her thoughts suddenly becoming lively and rapidly spinning through her mind, "Mr. The World, what I meant just now—well, your patience is the best, it would make things simpler. If you're not patient, that's perfectly fine—we'll swiftly launch our hunting campaign." Germán chuckled softly, "Don't worry. I'm not in a hurry." "When the ultimate goal became angelic-level potion recipes and '0'-level seal materials, he had sufficient patience on this matter. Hmph... Master Folsen subtly exhaled, then inquired with mild curiosity, 'Then what brings you here?' Klein responded with calm composure: 'Don't you wish to quickly absorb the 'Record-Officer' potion? Besides recording local customs, I believe you also need to 'record' various extraordinary abilities. The higher the level, the better the absorption effect might be.' Folsen's eyes brightened: 'Yes!' As soon as she said it, she felt her tone slightly off and quickly added with a touch of hesitation, 'Is this the advance payment you mentioned earlier?' Klein gently nodded. 'Begin then, and prepare yourself. I've borrowed a '1'-level seal material from Master 'The Fool.' This corresponds to the level of the Saint.' For a Record-Officer of Sequence 6, the probability of successfully demonstrating the exceptional abilities of the Angelic "Record" tier was extremely low, almost nonexistent. Thus, Klein did not attempt to summon messengers such as Miss Messenger or Mr. Azk, to showcase their skills. Furl sat up straight, nodded firmly: "Hmm." The very next second, she witnessed "World" Germán Sparrow raise a white bone staff, its top adorned with numerous blue-green stones. As the light surged, streaks of lightning erupted from the void, intertwined and coalescing into a forest of thunder radiating an atmosphere of destruction. Furl's eyes were illuminated to a silvery white, and her body and spirit were deeply struck. Only after the "thunderstorm" subsided did she hesitate, then speak with a slightly trembling voice: "It failed..." "Try again," Klein replied calmly. The "Lightning Storm" kept striking again and again within the ancient palace shrouded in gray mist. After an indeterminate length of time, Folshe exhaled, leaned back against the chair, and with evident delight declared, "It's done! It's done!" She had finally "recorded" a "Lightning Storm." At last, it was over. Folshe instantly relaxed. Then, she heard the world—Germán Sparo—speak in his calm, emotionless tone: "Well, the next extraordinary ability." ...The next one? Folshe watched as the passionate adventurer at the very bottom of the weathered long table extended his right hand, reached into the pale gray mist, and, out of thin air, drew forth a cross covered with thorns and streaked with verdigris. "The 'record' ability of this cross?" Folshe made every effort to keep her expression composed. ——After the significant digestion of the "Archivist" potion, her divine ability to "record" had evolved from one to two. "No." Klein glanced at the "Magician" lady and said, "I'm recording my ability to summon the 'Cross of No Darkness.' " "...It failed," Folshe whispered. This time, the failure stemmed from her not having had time to record it. Klein released the sustaining force on the "Cross of No Darkness" and once again reached into the veil of history, drawing forth a black iron revolver. "It didn't work..." Folshe responded, her expression complex. Right now, all she wanted was to return to the real world and absorb what she had just gained, yet she still heard no signal that class was ending. After nearly thirty attempts, when Folshe began to feel a dull headache and her spirit started to wane, she finally managed to record a successful "historical rift image summoning." At that moment, she felt deeply moved, yet she held back her fatigue, striving to maintain the demeanor of a good student: "Can one summon people and things connected to oneself from within the historical rift?" "Then, whom should I summon, or what object?" Caine looked at the "Sorceress" with a slightly cold tone, responding, "Me." "...," Folshe managed a smile. "Which version of yourself?" "The one from our last meeting." Caine had already decided on this answer. It was the version of himself who, before the collapse of King George III's ritual, had deliberately brought the "Sorceress" back from the icy realm to Beckland—now the "Ancient Scholar." Folshe nodded seriously, instinctively asking, "What if it fails? Summoning someone beyond my own level should carry a high probability of failure..." "Come back tomorrow and record this ability again, using 'Lehmann's Travel Notes,'" Caine said calmly. Would it succeed on just two attempts? Folshe instinctively wondered, yet remained silent, impressed by the confidence of the world, Germain Sparo, and hesitant to voice her doubt. She raised her hand and gestured, saying, "Then, I, may I go now?" Klein nodded, and with a look of delight, the "Magician" lady departed from the "Source Castle." ... On Suonia Island, deep within the primeval forest. Alger Wilson led several subordinates into a精灵 sanctuary that was rarely visited.