Bernadette paused for two seconds, then responded through the "invisible servant": "Uncle Edward, why are you here?" She used the familiar term from her youth, in an effort to minimize the risk of an unexpected mishap. Yet her voice, carried through the "invisible servant" into the surrounding air, was dry and hoarse—utterly unlike its usual tone. Edward's face was pale and ashen, as though he had just emerged from a tomb, devoid of warmth. "I don't know," he said. "One morning I wake up and find myself back on this island. Perhaps this is my fate—my destiny to guard the King." With each sentence, he paused, yet there was no sign of breathlessness; as though he had not spoken for a long time, and his throat had grown stiff, struggling to find its rhythm. Before Bernadette could ask any questions, the knight—once renowned across the continent a century ago—added, in a steady, unemotional tone: "The King's tomb is nearby." "I have been watching over this place, waiting for Him to rise. Yet, after all these years, the tomb has shown no signs of change. There has been no indication of resurrection at all." Bernadette asked her "invisible servant" to survey the room: "This house is where you will dwell." Edward's exposed skin had grown dry, complementing the natural age spots already present; his voice was low and somewhat broken, spoken in intermittent phrases: "Yes. I built this house using materials from the surrounding trees." Bernadette's "invisible servant" glanced back in the direction from which they had come: "Have William and the others been with you?" Edward's expression remained cold and impassive, but his eyes flickered slightly: "They have already been contaminated and passed away. Now, though they have come back to life, they are more like monsters than the people they once were. Your Highness, be on your guard with them—avoid them." "No one else can be trusted except Benjamin and me." Bernadette remained silent a moment, then, through the "invisible servant," asked: "Where is my father's mausoleum? I would like to see it." Edwards stiffened slightly in his neck: "Very well." He then began walking step by step toward the cottage, retrieving from within a heavy, rusted black axe. "I'll show you," Edwards said to the "invisible servant" that should normally be unseen. Throughout this, his expression remained rigid, with little change. "Very well," Bernadette replied at the edge of the forest, her dry, hoarse voice resonating around the area through the "invisible servant." Edwards, standing nearly 1.9 meters tall, now appeared somewhat thin and wiry. Holding the axe, he walked steadily toward the rear of the cottage, speaking in a tone without noticeable variation: "It's quite close. Be careful on the way." Bernadette immediately controlled the "formless servant," having it follow Edward's footsteps closely as he walked through the primeval forest in elegant attire. Suddenly, with Bernadette just behind him, she asked the "formless servant": "Uncle Edward, what were you worshipping on that open space earlier?" Edward did not turn around, maintaining a nearly consistent pace: "Your Majesty." Bernadette, lagging behind him and the "formless servant" by at least two kilometers, blinked once, and it took nearly three seconds for her to compose herself. Through the "formless servant," she asked, emotionless: "Were Uncle William and the others also worshipping him?" Edward's steps paused, though he remained facing away from the "formless servant" and the pair of "divining eyes." "No." He slowed his steps as though pondering an answer: "I don't know what they are worshipping..." Bernadette's eyes slightly narrowed, as if she had caught a subtle shift in the river of fate. She didn't ask any further questions, allowing the "invisible servant" to quietly follow Edward behind, weaving through the vast green trees and the dense, sharp shrubs, toward the mountainous peak of the island. In just a few minutes, the trees ahead abruptly vanished. This wasn't a gradual transition from dense to sparse, culminating in a blank space marked by an invisible line—the great trees simply disappeared suddenly. Beyond that invisible boundary stood a mountain hundreds of meters high, its summit also draped with those towering, deep-green-to-dusky trees, so seamlessly integrated that from a distance, it appeared as one with the forest, indistinguishable from it. However, the face of the mountain facing Edwards and Bernadette was largely treeless, as the mountain's core had been hollowed out by half. Deep within the mountain's body stood a black mausoleum, exquisitely grand. Most of it was part of the mountain itself, with only subtle traces of human craftsmanship and refinement—truly embodying the concept of "a mountain as a tomb." Thus, its form deviated from the typical pyramid shape, resembling a towering peak that was not perfectly symmetrical, yet undeniably majestic. Whether the mausoleum itself had exerted an influence on its surroundings or whether Edwards had cleared the area, the surface remained free of any weeds or the common vines that typically covered the rest of the mountain. This allowed Bernadette, through her "Eye of Revelation," to directly see the inscribed texts and symbols on the mausoleum, as well as the massive stone gate—nearly thirty meters high—seeming specifically designed for the giants. Bernadette was familiar with these words and symbols, recognizing them at once—some drawn from her father’s codified Civil Code, others reflecting the new social customs he had established, and still others directly from designs of various inventions. As Bernadette carefully observed, Klein, high above the gray mist, had now fully confirmed that this was the final tomb left by King Roscel of the Realm. It bore a certain resemblance to the tombs she had seen within the Tudor ruins, with the solemnity and distortion characteristic of the "Black Emperor." After stepping out of the primeval forest, crossing the invisible boundary, and approaching the tomb, Edward halted. He turned slightly, facing the "Invisible Servant," his voice unchanged: "Do not enter. That would interrupt the resurrection..." Bernadette furrowed her brow, paused for a moment, and then, using her "Eye of Revelation," locked onto the tomb. Then, her eyes—like the deep blue of the sea—became profoundly profound, as if the sea surface before a storm. In this state, she clearly lost focus, her gaze blurred and distant. She was gazing into the river of fate, making prophecies about what would come next. Meanwhile, Klein, atop the gray mist, lightly tapped the weathered long table once more, amplifying her chances of success and preparing for resistance against the celestial pollution. Of course, the latter was not essential, as Bernadette carried a controllable "Level 0" seal. The very next second, Bernadette raised her right hand. Her skin instantly turned as white as snow, her lips as red as blood, and her hair as black as ebony. In her hands now appeared a translucent, ancient mirror—symbolizing the fairy-tale magic of "Snow White." With this mirror, Bernadette enhanced both the accuracy and success rate of her prophecies. In silence and stillness, she "saw" a scene unfold: the majestic, solemn black mausoleum began to tremble, and its heavy, towering stone doors slowly opened. Then, a vast, dark arm extended from the doorway. In scale, this arm approached that of the island's great trees; in color and texture, it resembled a part of shadow, yet it was not merely a thin layer—it was thick and substantial, filled with flesh, appearing remarkably strange. It supported itself on its elbow, moving forward with difficulty, as though pulling out a larger, more formidable, and more terrifying section behind it. Roar! The entire island began to shake. Crack! The two translucent "eyes of observation" suddenly shattered. Bernadette's eyes closed instantly, as if overwhelmed by an intense, unbearable light or sustained severe injury. Clear streams of blood traced down her eyelids, and her complexion grew noticeably pale. And upon her, pairs of ethereal, holy wings unfurled, their downy feathers falling to neutralize an invisible pollution. "Indeed, she possesses the ability to counteract it—Emperor's legacy is truly rich... Heh, before I educated her, the 'Seer' lady always used her 'Eye of Revelation' to scrutinize people and things around her—there's certainly a strong element of upbringing at play... In any case, all of this is Roselle's fault!" While quietly exhaling a sigh of relief, Caine couldn't help but mutter a few criticisms toward the Emperor. Then, his thoughts flashing like lightning, he began analyzing the scene Bellanade had witnessed in her prophecy: "After the stone gate opened, a terrifying creature seemed to emerge from within the mausoleum." "This might be a revived Roscel, or perhaps a symbol of some catastrophe—such as a foreign deity that once eroded the island, or the 'Primordial Moon' that quietly contaminated Roscel..." "Indeed, even within Roscel, it bears no human likeness; rather, it resembles a mythical creature, something divine." "Moreover, I'm uncertain whether this terrifying being possesses intelligence or can communicate with us." "There's another crucial question: Was the stone gate opened by Bernadette or someone else, or did the monstrous entity within the tomb do it itself? If it's the latter, then even if we take no further action, the events may still unfold precisely as foretold." "The prophecy truly seems full of ambiguity." Kaine casually conjured a coin and flicked it into the air, performing a divination. The dream divination revealed that the tomb simultaneously embodied both danger and safety. "How am I to interpret this?" While Klein reflected, he turned his attention back to Bernadette. It took Bernadette several dozen seconds to recover, no longer appearing so weak. Yet, for the images she had witnessed, she could not yet make any specific predictions—only that the situation was undoubtedly complex. With the "Eye of Revelation" shattered, she could no longer use it to perceive hidden truths, relying instead solely on the innate perception of the "Invisible Servants" to assess the immediate surroundings. She noticed that when she could no longer control the "Invisible Servants," Edward remained silent and motionless, as if completely unaware of any anomaly. Then, drawing upon the "Invisible Servants," Bernadette addressed Edward: "Do you remember your years spent in Lüneburg?" Edward's calm, pale blue eyes flickered: "I do. I seem…." As he spoke, a memory surfaced, distorting his expression as though he were enduring an unnameable kind of pain.