Inside the first layer of the opened "Box of the Old Days," the long table, chairs, and the figures of Forth and others appeared like dolls—either still, or moving in repetitive, simple motions driven by clockwork. Upon witnessing this scene, Butis felt his hair stand on end, unexpectedly sensing that he too would soon join them, becoming one of the figures. Instinctively, he reached for the "Level 0" seal he held, yet he noticed the woman in a purple cloak, wearing a hood, standing beside the pumpkin carriage, now drawing back her right hand and half-closing it against her lips. Instantly, a deep, ancient horn formed in the palm of her hand, radiating an immense, weighty presence. "The magical horn!"—the horn of destruction! Butis's pupils dilated dramatically. Ignoring the issue of the "Box of the Old Days," he extended his right hand forward, as if lifting an invisible veil that draped over the void. Once again, the area where he stood warped, vanished, and was concealed. "Ah!" The horn in Cadrya's hands emitted a low hum, resonating layer by layer throughout the room, yet failing to propagate outward. Under the superposition of sound waves, the shadows shattered, the floor cracked—like thick glass struck by a heavy hammer—the space concealed by "The Saint of Secrets," Buthis, rippled with countless fissures that interlaced and spread. On the other side, a tall knight clad in black full armor burst forth from the shadows, wielding a long, broad straight sword, with deep red glimmers pulsing at his eye sockets. "The Saint of the Deep Darkness," Ksma. "Hoooh!" Cadrya blew the horn again, and everything within the room seemed to solidify into translucent amber. Without a sound, the amber fractured and shattered, and the knight clad entirely in black armor, like a mirror dropped to the ground, broke into numerous fragments. The concealed region then resumed its reality. Yet, "the Saint of Secrets" Butis seized the intervals between the two horns, causing a series of ethereal gates to materialize around him. Some opened outward, others were deep and profound, some adorned with mysterious patterns, while others featured central open spaces, through which the boundless darkness beyond could be faintly discerned. These ethereal gates were numerous, densely packed and overlapping, nearly enveloping Butis entirely. Without pausing to gaze or reflect, Butis swiftly pulled open a gray-blue gate with seven bronze lockholes, and tossed the "Box of the Ancient Days"—which he was about to unfold into its second layer—through it. This was the "Exile" spell of the "Seer Mage," capable of casting a controlled target into a specific temporal and spatial turbulence. Each ethereal gate represented a distinct scene, offering both peril and opportunity. This "exile" is not permanent. For Buthis's sequence level, it can only distance the "Ancient Box" from reality for twenty seconds. Once that time elapses, the "Level 0" seal will return to Buthis's side through the very "Portal of Illusion" that just opened. However, by then, the "betrayal" spirit generated by the enemy's extraordinary abilities will have vanished. As a half-god on the "Apprentice" path—having traveled widely, witnessed countless events, and documented various powers—Buthis made the most accurate decision in an instant. At the same time, the "Black Knight," shattered into fragments, rapidly reorganized itself, transforming into a thin, living tapestry of flesh and blood that spread across every corner of the room. — As a cult that thrives only within the shadows of reality, though the Order of Aurora has many madmen, it still habitually masks its actions during operations, so as not to lose its purpose to official forces before achieving its goals. Certainly, once the situation has reached its conclusion, they will surely proclaim their presence with grandeur. Moreover, Ksma, the "Shadow Saint," is also aiming—to a certain extent—to obstruct any potential allies that may be hidden outside, thus dividing the battlefield. When layers of flesh and blood have grown upon the floor, walls, and ceiling of the room, a twisted, trembling black silhouette rises from the corner. This is a soul nurtured and tended by Ksma, the "Shepherd." It originates from a powerful vampire of the god-forgotten lands, corresponding to the "Moon" path at Sequence 4, "The King of Witches." ——If the object of the "Shepherd's" care is of demigod caliber, due to the resilience of its spiritual form, it can be directly projected outward; however, only one such soul can be projected at a time, unless the "Shepherd" itself has ascended to Sequence 3, "The Three-Headed Saint." Seizing the moment when the female half-goddess at the side of the pumpkin carriage had her horn fade inch by inch, the wavering shadow of the "King of the Shadows" reached out and extracted one of his own eyes—a translucent, vividly red eye. This eye shimmered with a clear, deep crimson glow, instantly illuminating the entire room, as though the red moon had descended upon it. Within its pupil, the image of the lady in a deep purple and black robe, wearing a dark hood, was reflected. Then, the shadow reached out with the hand holding his eye, allowing the crimson "moon" to be completely swallowed by darkness. Deep, still darkness rose around Gardeleia, encircling her and freezing the scene in place. Witnessing this, the "Keeper of Secrets" Butis stepped forward and instantly materialized behind the enemy. "Phase" after "phase," "phase" upon "phase"—in the space around Gardeleia, the silhouette of Butis in his black robe materialized no fewer than eight times! It wasn't that he created duplicates—rather, he moved so swiftly that his original form left behind lingering traces, momentarily failing to vanish completely. Among these eight Buthis, some unleashed lightning storms, others solidified long, blazing spears, while others donned complete black armor, wielding deep, decisive swords that could cleave through anything. Different figures, each wielding distinct abilities—some attacking, others controlling—all directed their focus toward Gautheriya. With scarcely any intervals, the Buthis figures once again "materialized" in new corners, swiftly becoming transparent and preparing to fade away. He didn't necessarily intend to defeat his enemies, because this was Becland—any commotion from their battle would soon become overwhelming and spill out beyond the immediate area. At that point, official angels might very well descend directly. He launched a counteroffensive first, then "teleported" away, in order to maintain control over the enemy and prevent her from disrupting his and the "Dark Saint" Ksma's departure—this was a perfectly sound strategy. Yet just a few seconds earlier, within one of the upper rooms of the aging apartment building, "Judgment" Tho had already received the message of change through "Justice" Miss's "inner voice" at the gathering. Though concerned and anxious, she remained calm, and proceeded precisely according to plan—jumping directly from the window, rotating mid-air, and pointing her fingers toward the designated area: "No teleportation allowed here!" Immediately after, she distanced herself from the deteriorating apartment, ensuring that her own half-divine ally would not be distracted. This interference prevented "Saint of Secrets" Buthis from smoothly entering the spiritual realm; before him, it seemed as though a massive, heavily rusted, and exceptionally heavy door had appeared, sealing off the path. For Butis, a portal of this degree of illusion was utterly incapable of preventing his departure—he merely needed to make a slight adjustment and could simply "open the door" and proceed. Yet at this very moment, something extraordinary had occurred with the female half-deity dressed in a purple-and-black robe! Silver-white radiance began to bloom in Gadeleira's eyes, weaving together like a mysterious great serpent. This was "brief fortune," knowledge drawn from her interpretation of the blood of the "Serpent of Fate." Whether it was the terrifying lightning, the blazing lance, or the decisive strike of the "Black Knight," none of these attacks managed to reach their mark at this moment. Gadeleira seemed to stand at the very heart of the storm, unharmed by the surrounding dangers. The assaults and controls either passed through her or were neutralized by her companions, failing to achieve their intended effect—indeed, they even helped to weaken the "dark" bindings holding her in place. Instantly, Cadrya arched her back, and patches of pure, ethereal feathers emerged—feathers not of an angel, but of a "swan." Feathers born from the transformation of a "duckling" into a "swan." As for what a "swan" is, to a Sequence 4 half-god, the answer is clear: it is an incomplete form of a mythic being. And indeed, a "duckling" can become a "swan!" This is a powerful magic that allows a "mystic" to manifest an incomplete form of a mythic being—once per day, for ten seconds. Cracks immediately spread across Cadryya's body, and flesh coalesced within them, forming distinct, black-and-white eyes. These countless eyes, impassive and detached, surveyed the surroundings, embodying the very essence of accumulated knowledge—so profound that the forms housing them themselves blurred into more abstract, higher-dimensional black masses. As soon as they saw the dense throng of eyes, the "Saint of Secrets" Buthis and the "Saint of the Deep Darkness" Ksma felt dizziness, their minds echoing with a storm of knowledge forming. The layer of flesh enveloping the entire room trembled slightly, some droplets falling steadily downward, others moving in disordered waves. At this moment, an incomprehensible aura pierced through the barrier composed of flesh and surged into the first floor of the abandoned apartment, instantly enveloping every corner. Both Buthis and Ksma were simultaneously struck dumb, their bodies, minds, and spirits rendered uncontrollable. This was a transformational "Dragon's Might"—this was "Mind-Stripping"! Seizing the moment, the "Black Mass," crackling with fissures and dotted with eyes, coalesced before them into a long spear. The spear was ancient in form, its shaft and handle stained with one after another, dot by dot, of deep crimson blood. It exuded a powerful aura of destruction and blood, as though it had once wounded a great being. With a sharp *shush*, the dreadful lance shot forth, aimed directly at the motionless "Saint of Secrets," Buthis. Within the entire room, all sounds and details vanished—even the lingering "Dragon's Presence" abruptly disappeared—leaving only the blood-streaked tip of the lance, Buthis's body, and the steadily closing distance between them. "The Lance of Lançus!"