Gazing at the half-“Fool” seated on the massive stone chair, Caine's mind flashed back to the scenes he had just witnessed—those connected to the Kingdom of Night. He felt a deep sense of resonance. He knew little about Antigonus, and on several occasions had nearly lost control due to the man's fragmented murmurs—"Hornachis... Freglara..."—so he couldn't truly sympathize, only feel a profound kinship: that persistent presence in dreams was undoubtedly one of his most cherished memories from the past. Even though Antigonus was born into a transcendent lineage, he clearly held a deep affection for the once-peaceful, tranquil, and secluded little kingdom. Caine slowly exhaled, shifting his gaze from the man whose face bore coarse black wolf's fur, and settled it upon the side of the great stone chair. There, a slender book crafted from thin yellow copper lay quietly, with three mercury-scripted rules continuously alternating in display. "0–02," "The Yellow Copper Book of Trenzost." Has it achieved the seal through a capability akin to "grafting"? Indeed, it seems to have gone further—not merely connecting the beginning directly to the concluding rules—but even deceiving the intelligence of the "Trenzalore Brass Book," causing it to overlook the skipped intermediate sections and refrain from making any adjustments, repeating the same sequence over and over again... Caine glanced at "0—02," silently murmuring a few thoughts to himself. This gave him a certain sense of what abilities the "Fool" might possess. Without further contemplation, Caine instructed the "Mysterious Servant" to perform the grafting, linking the beginning to the end, and stepped directly to the great stone chair, picking up the "Trenzalore Brass Book." This move served both to eliminate potential future disruptions and to assess the current state of Antigonus. Seeing that the half-"Fool" remained asleep, unable to break free from eternal slumber, Caine slightly eased his breath, instructing the Secret Double to take the "Trenzalore Brass Book" and retreat to the palace entrance, where it would wait. He chose not to send his duplicate to retrieve this "Class-0" seal because he feared that the "Trenzalore Brass Book," which held a certain connection to the Source Substance, might exhibit a passive negative impact precisely at the moment when he was most vulnerable—when he needed to fully absorb the Fool's uniqueness—thus causing the situation to rapidly deteriorate. ——In terms of avoiding adverse effects from the seal, the Secret Double is far superior to his duplicate. This is also why Caine did not bring the "Star Staff" with him; he could not risk having a time bomb at his side. Normally, he could rely on his own status, level, and abilities to suppress the staff's influence, but during the process of absorbing the Fool's uniqueness, he would become exceptionally fragile, unable to intervene in the actions of others, and even minor disruptions could cause him to lose control instantly. To address the situation where the "Fortress of Origin" was sealed and its power could no longer be drawn upon, Caine had to bring along a sealing object capable of providing "transportation" ability. Thus, he chose the "Starving Hunger." At this moment, facing the Angel King who embodied uniqueness, Caine felt his left-hand skin glove instinctively trembling. He then gently stroked the "Starving Hunger" with his right hand, speaking in a light, conversational tone: "Don't worry—you're merely an image from a historical fissure." With this, he eased the mental strain that had accumulated. Surveying the surroundings, he confirmed that no further matters required attention. Then, he placed his hand upon his chest and formally bowed to Antigonus. As he straightened up and raised his head, a complex, mysterious, and ethereal imprint emerged on his brow—resembling a peculiar luminous gateway tinged with a hint of deep green-black, continuously radiating a delicate, pale gray mist. The very next moment, Caine extended his right hand, spanning the distance—though not close, certainly not far—so that Antigonus's body was fully enclosed within his five fingers. His fingers swiftly closed, and with a twist of his wrist, he completed the act of "theft." Yet, he gained nothing. This attempt failed. Caine remained undaunted and resumed his efforts to steal Antigonus's identity, destiny, and self-perception. Though he was now the King of Kings among the Angels, his abilities in the art of theft originated from the "Source Citadel" and currently stood only at Sequence 1 level. Antigonus, however, was an Angel of Kings tainted by the "Master of Mysteries," embodying the essence of "uniqueness," and thus, there remained a clear gap between them. Even though Antigonus had entered a state of brief, dormant slumber, powerless to resist, Caine failed in his attempts repeatedly. He was entirely at ease, not the slightest bit disappointed, since all of this had been predictable from the start. As long as the "theft" had not been completed, the Goddess of Night would remain veiled, preventing the connection between this realm and the real world's fate, thus ensuring no external interference—giving Caine ample time and a stable environment to experiment. After countless failures, Caine suddenly had a flash of inspiration, as if foreseeing something. Once again, he extended his right hand, closed his fingers gently, and twisted. At once, he sensed an intangible presence detaching itself from Antigonus and drifting toward him. Simultaneously, before him, a river of shimmering light—difficult to describe in words—seemed to unfold into countless tributaries. The ethereal waters flowed forward, gradually submerging one tributary after another, returning them to the main channel. This was a symbol of fate, which manifested in various forms, such as a slowly rotating wheel dividing into multiple segments, or a great serpent winding continuously from head to tail. At this moment, as fate shifts, Caine sees a river of light. The very next moment, a series of fragmented, disjointed scenes flashed through Caine's mind: A young, eight-legged magical wolf, barely born, lay on a hillside, its coarse, dark fur dotted with transparent, writhing worms that constantly swam in and out. It was the infant son of the ancient god Freyglar, a mythical being by birth. At that moment, it watched its siblings and cousins playing among the scattered bones, disapproving of their crude, straightforward methods of handling prey—preferring to hang them up and savor them slowly, as befitting a noble creature. What the magical wolf feared most about becoming a god was its own father, the powerful, terrifying, and mad ancient god—though Freyglar, through instinctual union and reproduction, had produced numerous offspring with distinct, exceptional traits, these were uncontrolled and inconsistent, and thus the father remained wild, cruel, bloodthirsty, and driven by an unrelenting instinct for destruction and ruin, even killing several of his descendants. This magical wolf, capable of creating miracles and fulfilling wishes, pursued its prey with relentless joy, tearing and devouring them with pure delight. It had little clear memory of its father's Suddenly, his body underwent continuous transformations—sometimes he appeared as Klein Moretti, with black hair and brown eyes, scholarly and blending seamlessly with Zhou Mingrui; sometimes as Antigonus, with long hair turning slightly gray and a coarse, black wolf's fur beard; sometimes as a mysterious figure draped in a deep black cloak, face obscured, constantly extending smooth, slim tentacles to the sides. At this moment, Klein's mind was profoundly disoriented, his mental state completely unbalanced. He could only勉强 maintain a sense of self, wavering under the relentless assault of two powerful mental storms. Meanwhile, he also bore the fate of Antigonus, whose mind had spiraled into uncontrollable frenzy, his body gradually fracturing. A chorus of prayers and hymns rose in his ears, interweaving into a vivid, ethereal image, weaving itself into the chaotic battlefield. A young man, wearing a pointed soft hat and single spectacles, suddenly appeared here, standing behind the railing and gazing down at the entire city. "Mr. Error!" Amon! The next instant, Amon watched as Bayam and the distant cities of New Silver and New Crescent simultaneously vanished—just as if erased from a map with an eraser. "Boring," Amon remarked, shaking his head with a smile, utterly unimpressed. He had simply hoped to test whether either Caine or "The Goddess of Night" could fix a small "bug" here: after the bell had rung, Amon had, in a sense, become a "Temporal Angel" of the "Fool," capable of exploiting this flaw to directly steal one of the other's anchors. While such a theft held little value under ordinary circumstances, it proved immensely useful at the critical moment of a ritual: the sudden reduction of anchors would inevitably disrupt the balance, causing Caine to lose control on the spot. Amon then turned his gaze away, raising his hand to adjust his single spectacles on his right eye. On the crystal lenses, as if light suddenly surged from the stars.