"Your Majesty, Your Majesty... Your Majesty?" Misanshing's voice pulled Roland back from his daze.

"Uh..." He rubbed his slightly throbbing forehead, "Only astrologers know about these things?"

"All observations are done by those with star names. Apprentices and the disciples of the Arithmetic Institute... are not aware." The old scholar knelt again.

So that's how it is, Roland thought. No wonder the astrologers outside looked like they were writing their last words the moment he entered. If they could connect it to the birth of suspicion, they could also imagine that the lord might silence those who accidentally knew the truth in order to maintain the status quo. After all, in the past, the true purpose of establishing the Astrological Society and the rumors of the Star of Destruction were secrets only the royal heirs were qualified to know.

As expected of the people who had lived in the royal capital for a long time and were well-versed in court politics, Roland didn't know whether to blame them for their deep persecution complex or praise them for their loyalty in reporting the truth, even knowing the possible consequences. He shook his head helplessly, "You've done well. Don't reveal this conclusion for now, continue with your work—I don't mean stargazing, but the Arithmetic Institute. It's more important to study things that exist and solve the existing troubles of Neverwinter."

After speaking, he didn't linger, turned around, pushed open the door, and walked out of the attic, leaving the old scholar, who hadn't yet reacted, stunned in place.

"Return to the castle," Roland ordered in a deep voice.

He was even faster going back than when he came, almost running.

"Do you think what the astrologer said is true?" Nightingale, who had been following him, couldn't help but appear and asked.

"I don't know... it's just that some ideas suddenly popped up," Roland said in a low voice, "It's not the Red Moon, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Maybe it's something else..."

"Something... else?"

"For example, a hole."

Because of preconceived notions, he had never deeply considered the Red Moon. He thought its huge size was simply because it was close, like Jupiter seen from Io, which could occupy almost two-thirds of the sky. But now that he thought about it, the ancients called it a moon simply because it happened to be round and its light wasn't dazzling.

If it was really erosion, it could also be square, or polygonal.

Nightingale's tone was full of confusion, "Are you saying our sky has cracked?"

"It's possible it's even worse, but I need to confirm it first."

"How to confirm?"

Roland glanced at her, "Dreaming."

...

Although it was still early, it didn't prevent him from entering the dream world, and this time he didn't notify any God's Punishment Witches, only letting Nightingale guard his side.

"The day the Divine Will manifests, the time of the agreed meeting."

Roland had been searching for what the Divine Will referred to. Only at this moment did he realize that perhaps the other party wasn't referring to what happened in the dream, but the time in the real world.

If that was the case, it meant that the person who left the note not only knew the nature of the dream, but also knew that there was a real world outside of it, and could accurately perceive its changes—this seemed incredible, but when scholar Misanshing said "The Red Moon does not exist," the confusion and suspicion that had been lingering in his mind were instantly connected by a lightning bolt. Whether it was the "War of Divine Will" heard in Prism City, or the dream book without a signature, they were probably guiding him in this direction.

"Uncle, what's for breakfast..." Pushing open the bedroom door, Jie Luo was standing in front of the sink, asking vaguely with a toothbrush in her mouth.

"I'm not eating, get ready for your trip!" Roland shouted without turning his head. He casually threw a jacket from the sofa over his shoulders, and without even putting on his shoes, he stepped out the door in his slippers.

At this time, the streets were already bustling with people. The fried dough stick stalls and steamed bun shops were crowded with students and office workers. The sizzling sound of frying and the hawking intertwined, forming the noisy and short-lived prosperity of the tube buildings area.

The only exception was the Rose Cafe.

From the sign to the facade, it was out of place with the surrounding stalls, like a flashy non-mainstream person. When Roland took out his key to open the door, he even caught the stall owner across the street looking at him like an idiot.

He took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and went straight to Room 302—as for why there was only one private room in the entire shop, and why the private room was on the first floor but called 302, he deliberately ignored them as unimportant details.

Because Neverwinter had been plagued by a series of sudden events in the past week, Roland had no time to take care of the dream world. Now, putting his hand on the doorknob, he felt a rare trace of tension.

As for the question of how the other party could get in before the store door was opened, it was not within his consideration at all. Being able to reflect words in a champagne glass must mean possessing incredible power. Not to mention sneaking in silently, even if they suddenly appeared in front of him with a whoosh, there would be nothing to be surprised about.

Roland took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

The compartment was empty.

The small "tofu block" had nothing but a low table and four chairs. Every corner could be seen the moment the door was opened, and there was no place to hide.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of loss, and slowly walked to the table and sat down.

Could it be... that he had guessed wrong?

Well, people weren't ghosts, how could they teleport here? Maybe he should just wait a little longer.

But more doubts followed.

Could the person who wrote the note really know about this newly opened cafe and find their way here? What if the other party was waiting foolishly at the agreed place?

Or maybe the note was just a prank, and the arrival of the Divine Will in the real world had nothing to do with the dream. That could also be true.

In the end, he didn't have any substantial evidence.

As expected, this matter wouldn't be easy to find the answer to.

Just as Roland got up to leave the private room, a melodious wind chime rang.

"Ding ding dong..."

"Welcome—" He subconsciously said halfway before suddenly stopping. None of the God's Punishment Witches had entered the dream with him, and Garcia wouldn't come to his cafe for no reason. Now, there shouldn't be anyone willing to drink the outrageously expensive coffee! Coming back to his senses, Roland opened the door and looked into the store, only to see a slightly familiar figure appear at the door.

He had seen the other party twice.

Once at the newcomer reception in Prism City.

Once at the Reflection Church in the Old Holy City of Hermes.

Only two meetings, but they had allowed Roland to deeply remember that face.

"I didn't expect you to open a Rose Cafe yourself, and in such a corner. I almost thought you hadn't found that note at all."

Lan said.