Sasriel, the "Dark Angel," is likely a negative persona separated from the ancient sun god... Mr. The Gate was once the most powerful of the Angel Kings... The Abraham lineage still holds at least two "Level Zero" seals, corresponding to the exceptional traits of the Angel hierarchy under the "Apprentice" path... The fundamental rule of this world is chaos and madness... A cascade of esoteric knowledge resonates within the mind of the "Recluse" Gauthier, both astonishing her and pressing upon her with a profound sense of weight. Without the Tarot Circle, without the protection of Mr. The Fool, and without the support of Mr. The World, Germaine Sparrow, she would never have found it so easy to access this knowledge—she would have faced immense risks, and even inadvertently drawn the attention of certain high-level entities, or been consumed by madness and suffering. "Thank you for your advance," Gauthier said sincerely, opening her eyes. "This will greatly assist me in absorbing the potion." According to her original plan, after meeting the "Mystic Queen," she should have acquired some knowledge of mysticism, and with Germaine Sparrow's advance payment, the "Mystic" potion would likely be fully absorbed. Unfortunately, a few days before her arrival in Bekkanth, the "Mystic Queen" Bernadette had tracked a lead and departed the city, leaving Gautheray deeply disappointed. These are prayer points—secret figures controlled by the imagery of historical rifts summoned by Kline. They have existed since before the gathering, but their presence was previously shielded by Kline, rendering them imperceptible to anyone until now. Kline directed his gaze toward the luminous circle, using it as a focal point to extend his vision toward the distance: This "Angel of Time" seemed to have sensed the gaze from "The Source Citadel," lifted his head, adjusted his single-piece crystal spectacles, and gave a slight upward curve to his lips. "...," Caine drew back his gaze, his facial muscles slightly twitching as he murmured, "Truly persistent. He knows all about the past of the Umbran Wolf—there's no need to destroy every clue I need. And each time, he only delays just a little." If he couldn't defeat him, Caine would have liked nothing better than to hang Amun and give him a good scolding right then and there. Exhaling deeply, Caine immediately returned to the present world. Wearing a black hat and carrying a yellowish lantern, he released the projection maintaining the historical rift and departed from the peak, heading steadily into the silent wilderness. Klein moved without the slightest hesitation, as he had already received detailed information about the dark magical wolf Cotar from the "Goddess of Night," and thus knew the deity's character, manner, and habits well. He continued to pursue the wolf's past primarily to verify his assumptions—after all, the Eastern Continent had become a "God-forgotten land" for over two thousand years, and the dark magical wolf had long since drifted out of the Goddess's direct gaze. It was entirely possible that the wolf had undergone personality shifts or changes in demeanor. If he simply relied on the information provided by the Goddess without adjusting for these potential transformations, he risked making the mistake of attacking targets with outdated maps. "Under the strong pressures from both the 'True Creator' and Amun, the dark magical wolf is likely to have undergone a transformation—perhaps even a radical one. Maybe he's even half-mad from being so mentally strained," Klein muttered to himself. The "Umber Hulk" mentioned in his words can be seamlessly switched to "Caine Moretti," or to "Zhou Mingrui"—only requiring a shift to future tense. Caine's persistent pursuit of the Umber Hulk's past also stems from his desire to obscure the truth from Amon, making it difficult for the latter to discern that he already possesses crucial information. Of course, this may not fool the "God of Deceit" entirely; Caine's primary objective is to achieve a sense of mental triumph, thereby alleviating his overly suppressed psychological state, thus reducing the need to frequently consult the "Justice" lady for treatment. Well, as it stands now, the Umbran Dark Wolf indeed still retains the clarity and rationality of the mid-to-late Second Age, not as restless, bloodthirsty, or mad as it was when first integrating other extraordinary traits. Its most essential personality traits remain unchanged—still deeply suspicious, even doubting its own secret companions, and once it decides to migrate, it leaves behind all its previous secret companions, severing all ties. Moreover, it seems the Umbran Dark Wolf migrated from the East. As he pondered this, Caine suddenly paused. In the starless, blood-red moonless darkness, guided solely by spiritual intuition, he directed his gaze toward a specific place. His expression grew solemn, and he raised his right hand, gently touching the half-high silk hat. Then, Caine adjusted his course, stepping steadily toward where his gaze was fixed. That was the East. In the endless darkness, the lantern he held cast a solitary shadow behind him. His coat, reaching to his knees, blended almost perfectly with the deep night far away, and his steps had grown a little faster than before. "Well… actually, my speed isn't slow at all. But if I ran faster than a steam train, people would surely notice. In Beckland, with so many powerful individuals, there must be someone capable of seeing through my 'psychological invisibility.' Likewise, when I'm in dragon form, I can fly—but that presence is far too conspicuous. Right now, I can only send my consciousness and spirit into the collective unconscious ocean; I still can't bring my physical body along with me." After much thought, Odile decided to either acquire seal objects or magical items with travel capabilities, or simply move between dreams when possible, walking, taking the train, or riding the subway when dreams weren't available. What a humble half-god indeed… Ah, that explains the full title—'half-god, half-human.' The extraordinary divine powers belong to the godly side, while these more ordinary traits are distinctly human. Odile chuckled to herself, refocusing her thoughts. ………… Beckland, Hilston District. Folth sat by the fireplace, spreading a book across her thighs to serve as a writing surface. Holding her pen, she gazed at the parallel lines on the paper and the scattered Tarot cards on the floor, hesitating to make a move. "What's wrong? Are you not trying to deceive your teacher? No, everything you've written is true... Are you not trying to shape your teacher's perception?" Hugh stepped over and crouched down, meeting Folth's eyes. Folth shook her head. "No, not for this reason. I do feel some regret, but I know this will be beneficial for him and the Abraham family. I'm simply uncertain—there's a sense that once I write this letter, our fate will change." "Hmm?" Hugh seemed momentarily puzzled, not quite grasping his friend's meaning. Volsky exhaled slowly. "The wars of the past and the present haven't been particularly threatening to us. We've had the capacity to avoid them, secure the necessary supplies, and maintain a peaceful life. Therefore, my experience of them hasn't been deeply felt. 'We are like people standing beside a river, originally able to safely observe everything unfold. But perhaps, after writing this letter, the rising tide will finally sweep us into the current.'" After praying to the Sir of the Fool, once he received the card of the Magician, his fate became inevitable. The steel pen in Folveth's hand finally settled onto the sheet of paper. ………… Prizel Port. Dorian Gray Abraham, who had long since left the fishermen's association and assumed a new identity, opened the letter sent by his student. As he quickly scanned it, his expression shifted from astonishment and joy to growing doubt, and finally to sheer terror. Thud! Dorian dropped the letter from his hands, knocking over the table in front of him—as though the paper itself carried a curse, hiding a monster within. He retreated several steps, reaching the other side, opened his drawer, retrieved a few items, and then rushed toward the door, preparing to leave. Yet, as his right palm touched the brass handle, his movement suddenly slowed, and he came to a complete stop. He slowly turned around, gazing at the letter spread out on the floor, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of emotions. After a few seconds, Dorian Gray Abraham moved slowly toward the letter, hesitating, wavered, and struggled, yet never stopping—as though tempted by the devil himself.