Western Addus, Dorsa.
At noon, somewhere in Dorsa, inside a hidden and spacious room, Nephthys, dressed in traditional Addus robes, sat upright within the room. Leaning forward, she slowly released a handful of white animal bone powder. The powder fell from her hand onto the floor, and with graceful movements of her arm in midair, the falling powder began to sketch out a formation on the ground.
Before long, a pale formation with a closed-eye symbol at its center appeared on the floor. After completing the formation, Nephthys placed the remaining powder back into the jar beside her. Then, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began chanting an incantation.
The arcane chant echoed in low tones throughout the room. As the chant continued, a distorted phantom gradually appeared at the center of the formation. As it stabilized, it took the form of a familiar creature to Nephthys—a translucent lynx-like spirit. The spirit licked its paw, then floated proudly to the edge of the formation, puffed its chest, and raised its small head haughtily toward Nephthys.
Seeing this, Nephthys immediately took out two iron coins and respectfully placed them before the lynx spirit.
The lynx spirit’s eyes lit up upon seeing the coins. With a gleeful whoop, it circled Nephthys once before returning to the coins, lowering its head and licking them repeatedly. After a while, it raised its head again with regal poise and nodded in satisfaction at Nephthys.
Nephthys then leaned forward and, using soul-speech—a language only understood by Silence-path Beyonders—quietly relayed her message to the spirit.
After listening, the lynx spirit floated in the air for a moment before nodding again. Then it turned downward and dived into the floor, seemingly disappearing into the earth.
Once the lynx spirit vanished, Nephthys stood up silently. She walked slowly to the window and gazed outside, toward the sunlit city and beyond, to the location of the Addus Revolutionary Army’s encampment.
…Elsewhere outside the city of Dorsa, countless soldiers stood neatly in formation on an open field. Commander Adan stood on a raised wooden platform at the front, continuing his speech. At the mention of possibly facing the terrifying undead spoken of in rumors, nervousness and fear appeared in every soldier’s eyes.
No matter how loudly Adan proclaimed that the undead were weak and could be overcome with courage, the dark shadow of those chilling tales was not so easily dispelled. The troops facing the imminent probing attack still felt hesitant and afraid.
On the platform, Adan was finishing his rallying cry. Just as he was about to announce the order to move out, a military officer suddenly ran up the side of the platform and whispered something to him. Upon hearing it, Adan’s expression changed. After a brief pause, he turned to face the soldiers and called out.
“Everyone, due to some other developments, our operation will be temporarily delayed. We will proceed tomorrow morning instead!”
At his words, the many soldiers, previously uneasy about the probing assault, couldn’t help but let out sighs of relief. The tension in their hearts eased a little, though many began to wonder what had happened to cause such a sudden delay.
Soon after, the assembled formation was dismissed. The soldiers and officers dispersed and returned to camp.
Among them, one dark-skinned, bearded officer with North Ufigan features took a glance up at the platform. There, he saw Commander Adan in discussion with Consultant Nei, who had only arrived in Dorsa the day before. After looking for a moment, the officer pressed down the brim of his cap and silently slipped into the crowd, heading off.
But instead of returning to camp, the officer discreetly broke away and made his way into the city. Once inside, he went straight to an inn. When he emerged shortly afterward, he had already changed out of his uniform and was now wearing a simple North Ufigan-style robe.
Now robed, the officer continued weaving through Dorsa. He passed through main streets and alleyways, frequently circling back and checking his surroundings. After a winding route, he arrived in a slum district—a place of low buildings and filth. There, he slipped into a deserted alley and walked to its end.
He turned to face a small wooden door set into the alley wall. After knocking in a rhythmic pattern, he heard a series of unlocking sounds from within. When the final latch opened, the door revealed a young white man in a North Ufigan robe. He glanced at the officer and stepped aside to let him in.
Once inside, the room revealed a carpeted floor and sparse furniture. Two other robed figures sat on the carpet. After the officer entered, the doorman locked the door behind him, securing it with several locks before turning to speak.
“What’ve you got? Why call for a meeting now?”
The young white man asked. The officer, settling himself on the carpet and sipping some tea, responded.
“Adan’s making moves. Don’t know if it’s because of advice from that new consultant, but he’s planning to send troops into the undead surveillance zone for a probing attack—have the soldiers kill a few undead to boost their courage and morale.”
“A probing attack…” the young man repeated thoughtfully, then sneered.
“Hmph… so the undead have shaken Adan’s men so badly he needs a stunt to raise morale. When exactly do they plan to act?”
“Tomorrow morning. Originally it was today, but something happened—Adan received new info and suddenly changed the time, pushing it back a day. You’d better start your ritual and notify His Excellency Shihab, so he can prepare.”
“Lure them in early, wipe out this probing unit, and Adan’s plan to raise morale will collapse. In fact, morale in all of Dorsa might take an even worse hit. Got it—I’ll notify Karnak immediately. Meanwhile, you try to find out why Adan delayed the attack.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
With the message delivered, the officer quickly exited through a hidden door in the back. After seeing him off, the young man returned to the center of the room, pulled back the carpet to reveal a trapdoor, and opened it, revealing a staircase leading to the basement.
Descending the steps, he entered a cramped underground room dimly lit by a wall-mounted gas lamp. On the floor, drawn in bone powder, was a formation with a closed-eye symbol at its center.
The young man reached into his robe, rummaged around, and pulled out a bone shard. With a shake, a translucent, ethereal shape emerged from the shard—rapidly expanding and taking humanoid form. It was the ghost of a scarred, fierce-looking man wearing a North Ufigan robe.
Facing the ghost, the young man opened his mouth and used soul-speech to relay the intelligence he had just received. After listening carefully, the ghost bowed in midair, then drifted downward into the summoning formation, vanishing into the ground.
…
Beneath Dorsa, inside the inner barrier of the boundary—within the reverse realm: the Ethereal Realm.
An endless void stretched outward, an infinite darkness blanketing all directions. Everywhere the eye could see, it was darkness upon darkness. Above this abyss hung layers of gray-white mist, like drifting clouds covering the entire sky. Occasionally, soul flames—faint green and ghostly—descended from within the white mist, falling swiftly downward.
Beneath this mist lay a massive, winding nether river, woven from threads of pale green light, meandering through the void toward a distant unknown. The soul flames that fell from above plunged down into this river of light.
Within the dark expanse under the white mist, a small figure floated—a lynx-shaped Soulwhisker, the wild spirit, idly drifting through the void. At times it licked its paw, at others it stretched lazily. From its appearance, it seemed to be waiting for something.
Suddenly, Soulwhisker jolted. Its ears pricked up and its whiskers twitched. As if it sensed something, it darted glances around its surroundings. After scanning in several directions, it abruptly leapt forward, dashing rapidly in one direction with incredible speed.
Treading upon nothingness, Soulwhisker sprinted through the void. After some time, it spotted a soul flame streaking through the space beneath the mist. Unlike other soul flames that fell vertically into the Nether River, this one moved horizontally, racing forward.
Its speed was astounding, trailing a long plume of flame behind it like a green comet blazing through the Ethereal Realm.
Upon spotting it, Soulwhisker’s gaze sharpened. It transformed into a soul flame itself, trailing an even longer flame tail, and launched into pursuit. In no time, it caught up to the other soul flame.
The moment it did, it shifted back into its lynx spirit form and lashed out with a paw. The soul flame immediately scattered, transforming into a human-like spiritual figure—a man in a North Ufigan robe, with a visible scar on his face.
Startled, the scarred spirit let out a silent cry of pain. Facing Soulwhisker, the humanoid spirit tried to counterattack. But his movements were far too slow. Soulwhisker easily dodged the clumsy punch and expanded swiftly in size, growing to that of a leopard.
With another swipe of its claws, it tore a deep gash into the spirit, causing it to writhe in agony.
Seeing the twisted form of the spirit before it, the now-enlarged Soulwhisker did not hesitate—it opened its maw wide and lunged forward.
…
Dusk, Dorsa City.
Sunlight blanketed the city in a golden hue as the setting sun dipped toward the horizon. Inside a secret base tucked into a corner of Dorsa’s urban sprawl, the young man stood in the basement, staring anxiously at the summoning formation drawn in white bone powder.
“What’s going on… Why hasn’t it come back yet…”
He murmured as he stared. Since noon, after dispatching his undead messenger to deliver intelligence, several hours had passed. All the while, he had waited—hoping to receive a return message from Karnak. But the spirit he had sent hadn’t returned.
Logically, travel through the Ethereal Realm was swift; a round trip between Dorsa and Karnak shouldn’t take even an hour. In past communications, replies had always been prompt. But now, a whole afternoon had gone by—and still no sign of the messenger spirit. A deep sense of unease settled over him.
Pacing anxiously within the small basement chamber, the young man grew increasingly agitated. He desperately wanted to know what had happened to his messenger—and whether Karnak had even received the message.
Finally, unable to endure the anxiety, he turned away and climbed the stairs back to the main room of the safehouse. After glancing at the two subordinates inside, he issued his orders directly.
“Be ready. As soon as night falls, set up the radio. We need to send an emergency telegram to Karnak!”
…
Under the evening sky, wind howled atop a high tower somewhere in Dorsa. Dorothy stood at the tower’s peak, her robe billowing wildly in the wind. In the sound of wind ripping through fabric, she looked down upon this not-so-large North Ufigan city.
Surveying every corner of the city, Dorothy’s gaze grew heavy. As her spirituality surged, her Thunder Summoner abilities expanded. Enhanced by a precision-based model granted by forces beyond this world, the ability became grafted onto her senses.
At this moment, Dorothy acted like a receiver—perceiving the electromagnetic waves flowing through the air above Dorsa.