Western Addus, Karnak.
After that thunderous roar louder than any storm, the wind and sand dispersed, the clouds reopened, and under the sunlight, the entire small city of Karnak was coated in a thick layer of sand and dust. Soldiers who had survived the catastrophe crawled out of their makeshift shelters, dazedly surveying their surroundings—as if the apocalyptic scene just moments ago had been nothing more than an illusion.
With the complete collapse and disappearance of the storm brought about by Diedin, the revolutionary army in Karnak quickly resumed activity. Under General Shadi’s orders, the troops began cleaning up the city after the disaster.
They reorganized the forces, recalled the previously withdrawn units, searched for and suppressed remnants of the Savior’s Advent Sect armed factions, and looked for any surviving locals. Under Shadi’s command, the revolutionary troops swiftly recovered from chaos, and everything began operating in an orderly fashion.
“There are still a few snipers in the municipal building. Try negotiating their surrender first—if they refuse, then shell the building. Don’t storm it directly; avoid unnecessary casualties... Someone heard cries for help in the East Market—seems there might be survivors. Send more people to confirm and rescue if possible…”
Standing atop a tall building, Shadi skillfully issued orders to his soldiers. Though he had mostly shifted to overall strategic planning since the Addus Revolution had escalated to a nationwide scale, today was different. The Battle of Karnak marked the final, decisive battle of the civil war. Since they were facing undead forces, Shadi had to come to the frontlines personally to boost morale, temporarily stepping back into a field command role.
At last, after giving his preliminary instructions, Shadi let out a long breath, looked up at the clear sky, and recalled the thunderous voice that had shattered the hurricane. For a moment, he was lost in reflection, then addressed the ancient undead spirit within him.
“Hey, Setut, have you figured out what that voice just now actually was?”
From the moment the deafening roar had rung out, Setut had fallen completely silent—unusual for someone who always had a theory or explanation for even the strangest phenomena. With concern in his voice, Shadi questioned him, and after a brief pause, Setut finally responded with a sigh.
“Not yet… as for what that voice was… and by what principle it unleashed such immense power… I still haven’t figured it out. All I have for now is a vague guess…”“A guess…?”
“That voice had a profound rhythm and cadence. To me, it might have been a language… a language even I have never encountered before.”
“A language? You mean that was a language? There’s actually a language in this world you don’t understand?”
Shadi asked in astonishment, especially since Setut was renowned for his mastery of languages.
“Of course. I’m no omniscient god. That language was highly unusual, immensely powerful. Just a few syllables, and it summoned such destructive force. I still can’t see through its principles… Perhaps it’s some kind of primal word-spirit intrinsically tied to power.”
“Primal… word-spirit?”
Shadi repeated, visibly confused, prompting Setut to elaborate.
“It’s connected to the deepest domains of origin and structure… Even during the height of the Second Epoch, this was one of the most cutting-edge areas of study—key to the research of the First Epoch. In short, this field is steeped in cognitive poison—I can’t explain too much to you… even if I did, you wouldn’t understand.”
Faced with Setut’s curt dismissal, Shadi could only fall silent and stop pressing for details about the mysterious words. Instead, he took another angle and asked.
“Then… if your guess is right, doesn’t that mean the Heaven’s Arbiter Sect has already gained deep access to the legacy of the First Dynasty? They’ve even inherited cutting-edge research and can wield its results?”
After weighing Shadi’s question for a moment, Setut replied.
“It’s quite possible… Perhaps I underestimated them. Kid… from now on, find a way to build deeper cooperation with them. I need to understand them from more angles.”
Setut’s tone had grown serious—he had now put formal contact with the Heaven’s Arbiter Sect on his agenda.
After this brief exchange, Shadi resumed directing the revolutionary army in cleaning the battlefield and handling post-battle affairs. Meanwhile, at a distance, atop a bell tower in Karnak, a figure resembling Nephthys stood quietly, gazing toward Shadi in the far distance. Her expression carried a tinge of complexity.
“So that’s… the ruler of Addus now… the one who ended Baruch’s line?”
Staring at Shadi’s silhouette, Nephthys muttered softly. At her side stood a robed corpse marionette, remotely controlled by Dorothy, who responded with a touch of playful sarcasm.
“Yes, that’s Shadi—the leader of the Addus Revolutionary Army. The man who killed Diedin’s physical body, and destroyed the dynasty you personally founded. So? Your Majesty Rachman, do you plan to raise another army and fight this rebel? Restore Baruch Dynasty?”
Hearing Dorothy’s slightly teasing tone, the spirit of Rachman, possessing Nephthys, didn’t answer right away. Instead, after glancing over the many wounded within the city and the countless civilian corpses outside who had died from the Nether Coffin Order’s ritual, he replied calmly.
“We’ll see. If he’s truly worthy of ruling Addus… then Baruch has no need for revival. Let rebellion be its proper grave. But if he’s unworthy… then I’ll have no choice but to let Addus suffer a few more wounds.”
“Oh? So you want to put him to the test?”
Dorothy asked curiously. Rahman gave a definite nod.
“Something like that. Once I’ve repaired the damage to my soul, I’ll travel Addus… and see for myself how well he governs.”
“A trial, huh… then would you call this the Royal Trial for Shadi?”
“The Royal Trial? Heh… don’t mention that term again. I once thought designing that system would ensure Addus lasting peace. I never imagined it would end in such tragedy… The Royal Trial was the most foolish thing I ever devised.”
Rachman laughed bitterly and mocked himself. Hearing that, Dorothy couldn’t help but feel curious.
“So… Your Majesty Rachman, could you explain what exactly this Royal Trial was all about?”
Hearing Dorothy’s question, Rachman paused slightly, then let out a sigh and began to speak.
“Alright. At this point, it’s not really something that needs to be kept secret anymore...
“The so-called Royal Trial was a ceremonial system I established to ensure that future Addus kings would possess a baseline level of quality—and to pass on my power.”
“Passing on power… so the Royal Trial had that function too?”
Dorothy asked curiously. She had initially assumed the trial was merely a test of ability.
“Of course. Or rather, the transfer of power was its primary goal. After all, in this world, a ruler must possess a king’s power. The foundational strength of any nation must be some kind of stable and long-lasting—or continuously inheritable—mystical power. It’s true for other nations, and it was true for Addus as well…”
As he spoke, Rachman extended Nephthys’s hand and gazed into the distance.
“Addus isn’t some tiny backwater. It’s one of the major nations of North Ufiga, ranking high in both population and territory. To stabilize a country of this scale, a White Ash-rank inheritance wouldn’t be enough. You’d need one of Crimson rank or higher. But forging Crimson-rank powerhouses is incredibly difficult—it requires immense resources, luck, and most importantly, talent in the recipient.
“To become a Crimson-rank Beyonder, you need all three: resources, fate, and aptitude. Often, even a king can’t guarantee that their heir will reach that level. So for royal families, it’s not ideal to rely on standard advancement paths. Instead, we prefer to establish a separate, stable transmission system of mystical inheritance outside the usual rank progression.”
As Rachman explained this, Dorothy immediately thought of the pseudo-moth cultivation method used by the Blackdream Hunting Pack—where power was gained through symbiosis with mystical creatures. That too operated outside the normal rank system. Based on Rachman’s words, such “nonstandard” mystical systems were not rare.
“So… what method did you use to pass on Crimson-rank power within the Addus royal family?”
Dorothy continued her questioning, and Rachman calmly answered with his hands behind his back.
“During my lifetime… I was a Beyonder with primary spirituality of Chalice and auxiliary spirituality of Silence…”
“Primary Chalice, auxiliary Silence… the Plague Path?”
“Heh… The main path does have that name, yes, but I was a little different. My Beyonder path was a subvariant of the Plague Path, gained through a special ritual. My Crimson-rank Beyonder was called Soulblood Knight, whereas the main path Crimson-rank Beyonder of the Plague Path is called Plague Knight.”
“Subvariant path…”
Dorothy recalled what she knew about subvariant path—something Aldrich had once explained during a basic lesson on mysticism.
A subvariant path is a specialized offshoot of a main mystical path. If you imagine a mystical path as a tree, then the trunk represents the main paths—like the Ascetic Path progressing from Black Earth’s Ordinance Monk up to Gold’s Commandment Presider—each stage clearly defined with its own advancement rites. These are called main paths. The subvariants, in contrast, are branches off the trunk.
Subvariant paths can appear at any rank—from Apprentice to Gold—and require different rituals than the main path. Dorothy recalled an example: a “Taster” of Chalice she had once encountered.
Typically, subvariant paths share many abilities with their corresponding main paths. However, they omit some abilities while gaining others that are unique. They’re alternate presentations—mutations—of the main path archetype.
And because subvariant paths are fundamentally offshoots, they don’t have their own independent advancement path. For example, Rachman’s Soulblood Knight was a Crimson-rank derived from the main path White Ash-rank of the Plague Path. If Rachman wished to advance to Gold, he wouldn’t become a Gold Soulblood Knight—such an advancement doesn’t exist. He would have to revert to the main path and ascend as a Gold Plague Knight. The branch must ultimately return to the trunk.
Dorothy recalled all this while Rachman continued.
“As a Soulblood Knight… compared to the main path Plague Knight, my ability to create plagues was significantly weakened. But in exchange, another ability was greatly strengthened: the power to manipulate bloodlines. In short… I could use flesh and blood as a medium to form soul-based connections with others. I could read ancient memory fragments preserved in my own or others’ bloodlines—and from those, draw power, even re-manifest the strength or partial forms of long-extinct ancient creatures.”
As Rachman described his power, Dorothy raised an eyebrow.
“Is he saying he can read genetic memory from organisms and revive ancestral traits from the evolutionary tree? If dinosaurs existed in this world, could he manifest one?”
While she pondered this, Rachman continued.
“So yes, my abilities are deeply connected to bloodlines. That’s also how I was able to transmit my voice to all the people of Addus just now. Seven hundred years ago, during the war-torn era of Addus, to make governance and warfare easier, I asked all who joined me to offer a drop of blood. Through a ritual, I formed a soul contract with them, using my sword as the medium. When I unified Addus, every citizen became connected to my soul by blood. And that connection continues across generations. Even now, I can communicate with the people of Addus—because they are the descendants of my subjects.”
Rachman explained, and Dorothy finally understood why she hadn’t heard his declaration when he denounced Diedin—she wasn’t of Addus blood.
“My power lies in bloodlines. As long as I wish it, I can pass my power to any direct descendant through the closest blood connection—even after death. As long as my soul remains in this world. That is the truth behind the Addus royal family’s centuries-old Crimson-rank inheritance.
“I was the only member of the Baruch lineage to actually reach the Crimson rank. All other Baruch kings were essentially White Ash-rank Beyonders. They only held Crimson-rank strength because I granted it to them through my Soulblood Knight abilities. Once a Baruch king received my inheritance, he would have the strength of the Crimson rank, and could stabilize Addus’s regime.
“However, since this method doesn’t make them true Crimson-rank Beyonders, their lifespan remained that of ordinary humans. So to keep the Baruch Dynasty going, the inheritance had to be passed down continuously. To ensure that my descendants could forever use my strength to protect Addus, I chose—after death—not to return to the Netherworld, but to rest within my tomb instead. There, my soul would remain to offer and reclaim power for each new generation.
“I once believed this would bring Addus eternal stability… but in the end, it turned into a terrible mistake…”