In the nighttime, deep within the forests outside Kankdar, a tall figure in black robes stood silently in a moonlit clearing. Beneath the hood, the shadowy gaze lingered on the fading silhouette disappearing into the woods, shrouding the air around with an oppressive silence.
After a while, the tall figure slowly began to shrink in height, visibly reducing in size. Broad shoulders collapsed, shrinking by half, and in moments, the once-imposing figure was even smaller than an average person. The oversized robe now hung loosely on a petite frame.
Once fully transformed, the figure extended hands hidden in oversized sleeves and removed the large hood, revealing long silver-white hair and a black face mask. As the mask came off, a delicate girl’s face was revealed—it was Dorothy.
“Phew… Finally done,” Dorothy exhaled as she began removing the oversized black robe and unfastened some metal pieces hidden inside. Once all the pieces were removed, she folded them with the robe and placed the entire imposing outfit into her magic box.
Just then, from the edge of the forest clearing, Nephthys poked her head out of a bush. She looked around cautiously before emerging and jogging over to Dorothy, who was packing up. With curiosity, she asked.
“Miss Dorothy, did you already take care of her?”
“Take care of her? More or less… She’s now been infected by cognitive poison. Using her craving for more mystical text content as bait, I’ve managed to gain a certain level of control over her,” Dorothy said as she sealed the box.
Nephthys pondered for a moment and responded, “I didn’t expect it… It’s not even the Queen’s Procession, yet cognitive poison can control people too?”
“Of course. One of the major effects of cognitive poison is an insatiable hunger to seek out related content. If you control the source of the cognitive poison, you control the infected. Many cults use this exact tactic to corrupt and lure people into their ranks. I’m just following their example.
“Of course, in terms of control strength, the Queen’s Procession is the professional one. Once someone finishes the full text, the control is permanent—no need to bait them with more content like other mystical texts.”While tidying up, Dorothy explained patiently. Nephthys mused to herself.
“So many cults use cognitive poison to control people? Then all the mystical texts I’ve read so far… could Miss Dorothy have been using them to control me too? But wait, those texts were boring… I wouldn’t have read them if Miss Dorothy hadn’t insisted. So I guess I’m not under control. Still, even without mystical texts, I always end up doing what Miss Dorothy says… Maybe she’s more powerful than mystical texts themselves…”
Indeed, most ordinary mystical texts don’t match the Queen’s Procession in terms of raw control. They require continual feeding of content to maintain obedience. Worse, if too much cognitive poison builds up, the subject may go insane or mutate—so it’s not sustainable long-term.
But Dorothy was different. She had Sadroya pray to Aka. Now, through their connection, Dorothy could periodically cleanse excess cognitive poison from Sadroya’s system, keeping her just below the threshold of madness while maintaining that addictive pull—allowing Dorothy to control her indefinitely without letting her fall apart.
“Mystical texts can control people… and you’ve got so many, Miss Dorothy. Does that mean you can control a whole lot of people?” Nephthys asked, curious again.
Dorothy replied without hesitation, “It’s not that easy. For ordinary people, yes, mystical texts work well. But for Beyonders? It’s much harder. Beyonders are far more sensitive and resistant to cognitive poison. They can sense it as soon as they read or hear something suspicious and immediately take measures to block it.”
“The reason I could control Sadroya is because she was in a soul-separated state when she first got exposed to the poison. A disembodied soul has almost no resistance and no way to shield itself. Once she was deeply influenced, I had the chance to move in.”
Dorothy’s explanation made Nephthys nod thoughtfully, then she asked again.
“Then… can she really help us steal Prince Mazarr’s soul? Even if she’s the one in charge, it’s not easy to just hand over something so important. Doesn’t she have a partner at her level too?”
“No need to steal it. As long as she can touch the item, that’s enough.”
“Alright, we’ve got work to do,” Dorothy added lightly.
“Senior Nephthys, let’s get started setting up the ritual array.”
“Ah—okay, okay, got it…” Nephthys responded, nodding quickly.
…
In the forest, clad in simple clothing, Sadroya was walking slowly along a woodland path. At this moment, the confusion that had once clouded her expression had vanished, replaced by a calm detachment. Yet deep within her indifferent gaze burned a flicker of yearning.
Following the path she had taken before, Sadroya retrieved the shoes she had lost along the way and continued forward. Before long, she returned to the villa’s front gate, silently entering the courtyard. There, a man she knew well was waiting. Upon seeing her, he frowned and asked.
“Sadroya, where did you just go?”
“I went for a walk. It was too stifling in that room, gave me a worse headache. I told the guards when I left…”
“I see… How are you feeling now?”
“Much better. Guess I really shouldn’t stay holed up in there. I’ll need to go out more often… Anyway, I’m going back to rest.”
With that, Sadroya waved her hand casually and headed inside. Seeing her return unharmed, the man let out a breath of relief before turning to walk toward the other side of the building.
Time passed. The moon reached its peak in the night sky, and while most people had fallen into deep slumber, Sadroya suddenly opened her eyes in her room. Getting out of bed, she slipped on her shoes and left.
She made her way through the villa’s halls, descending toward the basement. As she approached the stairwell, she saw it packed with wandering phantoms. Without hesitation, she descended the steps.
As she walked down, the spirits parted to let her pass, not emitting a single shriek of alarm.
After what seemed like a long descent, Sadroya arrived at the basement’s entrance. Beyond the door was a narrow stone chamber bathed in a warm orange-yellow glow from a hanging lantern overhead.
Bathed in light, she stepped into the room and approached its center, where a large iron coffin rested atop a stone platform. Intricate rune patterns were etched across the coffin’s surface.
Sadroya extended a hand, tracing the complex symbols with her fingers until she found a specific spot. Digging her nail in, she pried out a small piece of engraved iron.
After examining the tiny shard in her palm, she pulled out a small bottle of glue and applied it to the piece before reattaching it seamlessly, restoring the engraving to its original form.
Once finished, she turned and left the basement, climbed back up the stairs, and returned to her room.
As she shut her door, Sadroya looked up at the ceiling window, gazing at the night sky outside. In a whisper only she could hear, she murmured.
“O Great Aka, Recorder of All Things, I have fulfilled the task entrusted by Your servant. Now… grant me new knowledge. The next chapter of knowledge…”
…
Time passed. The moon set and the sun rose. As night faded away, the people of Kankdal welcomed the dawn from the eastern sky. A new day arrived in the city.
In the early morning, just as the bustling of Kankdal resumed, within a spacious and bright hospital room in the Central Hospital, Robert—dressed in patient clothes—sat on the balcony at a small table that had been moved there. He wore a scarf and enjoyed an elegant breakfast, with a maidservant tending at his side.
While reading the morning paper and savoring his meal, Robert occasionally glanced out over the city’s dawn scenery, looking quite at ease. But across from him, Ma’ad—wearing a headscarf and ornate North Ufigan robes—looked far less relaxed. Standing stiffly, he spoke with evident worry.
“Mr. Robert… when will the Church’s judgment finally be delivered? When will Shadi and that little nun finally be sentenced?”
“Don’t be so hasty, Ma’ad,” Robert replied casually, sipping a glass of red wine.
“The Holy Mount’s Inquisitors have only been in Kankdal for three days. Everything is still under investigation. It’s not time for a verdict yet.”
“But… didn’t you say before… the Inquisition doesn’t like that little nun either? That once their people arrived, it wouldn’t even take two days to pin a conviction on her. Yet she’s still living comfortably at that hotel… If the Inquisitor doesn’t act, how can she ever be convicted?”
With a chuckle, Robert responded calmly, “Well, I did underestimate that little nun’s importance within the Redemption Faction. Who would’ve guessed a bigwig from the Holy Mount would send someone quite formidable to protect her? Now that inquisitor is tied down—can’t use any of his usual unconventional methods. So yeah, things are progressing a little slowly.”
Robert’s composure did nothing to ease Ma’ad’s growing anxiety.
“They can’t use unconventional methods… th-then does that inquisitor still have the ability to convict that little nun?”
“Of course he does. Clifton may not have a good way to deal with the little nun being staunchly protected by the Redemption Faction for now, but if something were to go wrong on the Redemption side—if they hand us and Clifton a major opening—then we can seize that chance and bring her down completely.”
Robert smiled as he spoke to Ma’ad, who still didn’t fully grasp the meaning behind Robert’s smile and asked in confusion.
“You mean… something going wrong on the Redemption side?”
“I’m referring to a foolish trap they’ve already got one foot stuck in. We just need to wait a little longer. It won’t be long before you’ll see them walk straight into it. Once they do, not even the Iron Nun will be able to save that little nun.”
With a touch of mystery, Robert spoke while sipping his wine. Just as Ma’ad was still mulling over Robert’s cryptic words, there was a knock on the door to Robert’s hospital room. Robert looked toward the door and called out.
“Come in.”
At his command, the door opened and Captain Hajetta of the Kankdal City Guard stepped into the room. He gave a respectful salute toward Robert, who was seated on the balcony, and began to report.
“Mr. Robert, a message has come from the Scourge of Flame. It says that early this morning, Sister Vania’s faction plans to present important evidence to Inquisitor Clifton. This evidence involves both you and Prince Ma’ad, so the two of you are requested to go and confirm some details.”
After delivering the report, Hajetta stood respectfully in place. Robert, upon hearing this, put down his knife and fork with interest, picked up his napkin, and calmly wiped his mouth—as if this had been expected all along.
After he finished wiping, Robert looked over at Ma’ad and chuckled.
“Your Highness, it seems we won’t have to wait much longer. Come—let’s go watch how the prey struggles after falling into the trap.”