Hobert Jeffrey was acutely aware that he had entered a dream again. Not far away, there was a crooked, almost vegetation-covered ancient castle and a picturesque yet abandoned ancient town.

Strangely, the ground in the distance had the sun, clouds, and stars.

In the sky, there was a vast forest, with enormous trees hanging upside down like stalactites in a cave.

Between the sky and the ground, there were vertical mountains and a gigantic clock tower, as if someone had hung these scenes on a massive wall.

Everything before him seemed as if the world was inside a box.

For the past month, Hobert had frequently found himself in this dream. The dream was so vivid that he remembered everything clearly upon waking.

There was no one here... No, that wasn't right. Hobert turned around and saw a blurry figure not far behind him.

Every time Hobert was in the dream, he would encounter this figure. The figure was so indistinct that he couldn't make out its features, only that it had its mouth open as if screaming something.

Sometimes he could hear the figure's screams in the dream, and sometimes he couldn't.

If he couldn't hear it, he was truly grateful because the screams would make his entire brain feel like it was boiling, and a surge of madness seemed to well up from within him.

At such times, Hobert would wake up from the dream and struggle to fight off the madness within.

Hobert had once speculated whether the figure was a resident here and tried to communicate with it, but all attempts at communication had failed.

So, upon seeing the figure, Hobert could only choose to run away quickly.

The figure floated faster than Hobert could run and soon caught up. Hobert smiled bitterly as the figure's screams pierced his eardrums.

The painful sensation of his brain churning returned. Just as Hobert gritted his teeth, preparing to wake up, he suddenly understood the figure's screams:

"Nation of Disorder... Nation of Disorder..."

The figure had been screaming "Nation of Disorder"?

A long-buried memory in Hobert's mind was awakened. The "Nation of Disorder" was one of the "Sefirot."

Hobert looked around in astonishment. Was this the "Nation of Disorder"? Wasn't it supposed to be in the Western Continent?

Hobert woke up from the dream, sitting up abruptly in bed. Outside the window, a red moon hung in the night sky, and he could hear the sounds of insects and the breeze rustling the leaves. It seemed like a peaceful night.

Panting heavily, Hobert found himself drenched in cold sweat. He realized he had lost some important memories. In the dream, he seemed to understand where the dream world was, but why couldn't he remember?

This wasn't the first time he had felt this way. Hobert had crossed over to this world a month ago.

Before transmigrating, he was an ordinary worker in China who enjoyed reading novels in his spare time. After crossing over, he quickly realized that this was the world of "Lord of the Mysteries."

He was in the Kingdom of Loen, in the capital city of Backlund. The current king was George III.

More importantly, Hobert discovered that he had acquired some Beyonder abilities, such as improved eloquence, making it easier to persuade family and friends.

However, Hobert had inherited almost all the memories of the original owner, who had neither consumed any potions nor come into contact with any items with obvious Beyonder properties.

Since Hobert's arrival, he had been having the strange dream every two or three days, and now it was almost a daily occurrence.

This matter had been troubling Hobert. He couldn't understand where his sudden Beyonder abilities came from.

This was the first strange thing after crossing over. The second strange thing was Hobert's memory loss.

He had read "Lord of the Mysteries" several times and was very familiar with the plot of the first few volumes, but the later volumes were only a vague concept.

Hobert could roughly understand that the memory loss was a form of self-protection. He also vaguely remembered that knowing certain mystical knowledge at a low level could lead to contamination.

But he couldn't understand why he had lost these memories.

These thoughts flashed through Hobert's mind as a severe headache swept over him, as if someone was stirring his brain with a knife.

At the same time, Hobert felt a mad beast within him, ready to tear his body apart and burst out.

This time, the madness was more severe than ever. Hobert fell to the ground, trembling all over, wanting to scream madly, destroy everything in the room, and kill everyone in the house.

His remaining rationality stopped him from acting on these mad thoughts. He struggled to suppress the pain and madness, using the Hermes language he had learned at the grammar school, trying to pronounce clearly:

"The Fool who does not belong to this era;

"You are the mysterious ruler above the gray fog;

"You are the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck.

"I pray for you to help me suppress the endless madness."

This was the only solution Hobert could think of. Although he suspected his adoptive father was a Beyonder, the latter had never shown any Beyonder abilities or revealed any knowledge of the occult, so Hobert didn't dare expose his condition.

Compared to his adoptive father, Hobert was more willing to trust Klein, another transmigrator. At least he knew that the "Fool" was compassionate and kind-hearted.

The current date was early July 1349. Hobert vaguely remembered that Klein should have already crossed over by now and had started the Tarot Club in a mysterious gray fog.

This wasn't the first time he had recited the Fool's honorific name. He hadn't received a response before, but theoretically, Klein should have already assessed him.

He hoped this time would catch Klein's attention. If this continued, he felt he would truly go mad.

Hobert recited the Fool's honorific name seven or eight times. His rationality gradually lost control over the madness within. Just as the madness was about to completely take over, he suddenly felt as if something was pulling him through a layer of gray-white fog, bringing him to a grand hall.

The madness vanished instantly, and Hobert let out a long sigh of relief.

At this moment, Hobert was sitting at an ancient and mottled bronze long table. At the end of the table sat a mysterious and powerful blurry figure.

Hobert thought, "Klein, you finally made a move."

Many readers would find it unusual for Klein to pull a stranger in, given that Klein was a very cautious person.