Somewhere on the central plains of the main island of Tivian.
Under the azure sky stretched vast, boundless fields. White clouds floated high above, and flocks of birds flew across the sky. In the fields below, the wheat leaves rippled in shades of green and yellow. Long rails sliced through the golden wheat fields, extending all the way to the far horizon.
Upon those tracks, a long train thundered ahead, its steel locomotive belching thick smoke as it pulled more than a dozen cars westward at high speed.
Near the front of the train, inside a private compartment of the first-class carriage, Dorothy sat reading a magazine and newspaper in her seat. She wore a white blouse and a red-and-black plaid skirt, with her silver hair tied into twin tails. Across from her sat Nephthys, dressed in a modest yellow dress and a narrow-brimmed cloth hat. Gazing out the window at the rapidly receding landscape, Nephthys finally spoke in boredom.
"It’s kind of dull… I didn’t expect to be riding another long-distance train after returning to Pritt. I’ve grown tired of boats and carriages lately… and now even back in Pritt, we’re still riding."
She murmured a mild complaint, to which Dorothy responded without lifting her head.
"It is boring, yes—but you could look at the bright side. Compared to watching deserts in North Ufiga or endless seas from a ship, at least the scenery out the window here in Pritt is more varied and interesting. It’s not all the same and dull."
“Hmm… You have a point, Miss Dorothy. Back in North Ufiga, the scenery was not only monotonous, but the trains were unbearably hot too. Pritt is much more comfortable—home really is the best place to be.”
Agreeing with Dorothy, Nephthys stretched out with a long yawn and then continued asking.
“It shouldn’t take too long, but then again, it’s hard to say. We won’t really know what’s going on until we get there, so it’s too early to judge. But if you’re worried about the start-of-term thesis assignments, you can relax a bit—your Professor John won’t be returning anytime soon. With the main thesis advisor out of the picture, the school will probably have to reconsider how to handle those assignments.”
Dorothy set down her newspaper as she replied. When Nephthys heard John’s name, her tone shifted slightly.
“I never expected Professor John to be a Beyonder too—let alone a scholar of mystic history. And he even ended up being targeted by those dangerous people from the Eight-Spired Nest… You really couldn’t tell at all from the way he usually acted. I always thought he was just an ordinary university professor studying mundane history…”
Nephthys spoke solemnly, lost in thought, while Dorothy continued directly.
“What they call ‘mundane history’ is just a layer of surface rewritten jointly by the Church and national governments to obscure the real one—just like the current world is only the surface of the hidden one. And this surface isn’t seamless; scholars who dig deep inevitably discover inconsistencies. Follow those, and the scholar either ends up corrupted by cognitive poison and gets dealt with by the authorities, or they quietly step into the mysticism world and continue their research in secret.
“I’ve looked over the staff and student records from the Royal Crown University’s history and archaeology departments—professors retiring or getting reassigned without notice, students dropping out or transferring. It happens every year or two. The Serenity Bureau even has a permanent office inside Royal Crown. So, if Professor John were to go missing, I doubt the university would react strongly.”
Dorothy waved her hand slightly as she made this assessment. Hearing her words, Nephthys couldn’t help but sigh.
“So that means… all those classmates and teachers at my school, and even scholars in other countries, have been studying a false history all along? That really is a bit tragic to think about… If a lifetime of research ends up being fake, then what meaning does our work hold? Does the world even need mundane historians?
“Now that I think about it… everything I studied before suddenly feels so pointless. I’ve always cared about my studies at Royal Crown, but now I’m not sure it was worth anything at all.”
As a student of archaeology, learning that much of what she’d been taught was fabricated naturally led Nephthys to question the value of her studies—and even the discipline itself. Watching her look lost in thought, Dorothy responded plainly.
“No, mundane history is critically important for human society. First of all, mystical history isn’t the whole of history—there’s still plenty of ordinary history left to be uncovered by scholars.
“Second, just like the Church and the secret police in each country, mundane history plays a key role in shielding ordinary people from mysticism and the supernatural. The purpose of this discipline is cognitive protection—ensuring the masses perceive the world as an ordinary place. It’s thanks to mundane history that the public’s view of history and the world remains under control, allowing society in every country to function peacefully.
“Many veteran mundane historians aren’t unaware of the mystical side—they often keep ties with the authorities but choose not to dig deeper. These scholars are intellectual masons, laying the cognitive bricks that protect most people from the threats of mysticism and cognitive poison. If ‘real history’ were to spread widely, a flood of cognitive poison would burst through into the mundane world. Social collapse would follow quickly. You wouldn’t want a world full of lunatics and madmen, would you?”
Dorothy explained this to Nephthys in a calm tone. Nephthys quickly shook her head and replied at once.
“No, absolutely not! Things are fine the way they are. Most people can live normal lives, and those wicked cults should stay buried in the shadows forever.”
“Exactly. So there’s your answer—the meaning of mundane history. It’s a noble discipline, created to maintain the stability of human society. Scholars in this field are the wall-builders of cognition, just like the Serenity Bureau’s hunters—you’re all working to ensure ordinary people can live peacefully. That alone proves your work isn’t meaningless. So there’s no need to worry, Senior Nephthys.”
Dorothy waved lightly as she spoke in an easy tone. After a moment of reflection, Nephthys finally nodded in understanding. With a breath of relief, she said to Dorothy,
“Whew… thank you, Miss Dorothy. You’re right. What I studied wasn’t completely pointless—it does have meaning. Perhaps, once I lift my family’s curse someday, I’ll still return to do this kind of work.”
“Good idea. Being a teacher or professor of mundane history sounds pretty nice.”
Nephthys smiled at Dorothy, and Dorothy responded with a faint smile of her own. After that, she didn’t continue the conversation. Instead, she turned her gaze toward the train window and began admiring the scenery outside as well.
While watching the scenery rapidly retreating outside the train window, Dorothy was simultaneously contemplating matters related to the Eight-Spired Nest.
“After deciphering the information left on Ampere’s relic, the Eight-Spired Nest will definitely head to Glamorne immediately. Although I set out as soon as I obtained intelligence about the temple, the Eight-Spired Nest already has influence in various parts of Pritt outside of Tivian. If they mobilize those forces, they’ll probably reach Glamorne faster than I will.
“Still, the temple of the Mirror Moon Goddess shouldn’t be that easy to find. Even if the Eight-Spired Nest gets there first, pinpointing the precise location will still take time. As long as I get to Glamorne and locate the temple ahead of them and complete the ritual inside, it’ll be fine. It’s difficult, but not impossible for me.”
“Another thing to be careful about—while Glamorne is fairly warm and bustling, it’s not a capital-tier metropolis. There’s no Crimson Archbishop of the Church stationed there, so there’s no suppression effect from a rank hierarchy. This means that Crimson-rank Beyonders from the Eight-Spired Nest can act without restraint. In a mission like this—locating a temple-level ritual site—it’s highly likely they’ll send a Crimson-rank as the leader. I’ll need to be careful not to get noticed by one. In a place like Glamorne, it’ll be hard to find any backing strong enough to stand against a Crimson-rank.”
Leaning against the seat in her compartment, Dorothy thought about this, then shifted her focus back to the affairs in Tivian.
“As for Tivian… after Misha and the Night Demon encountered each other in the Devonshire underground crypt, the Eight-Spired Nest also became aware that someone else is investigating Barrett’s research project. Based on the mission they assigned to Gregor earlier, it seems they assumed the one digging into it is another captain from the Serenity Bureau. Since Misha displayed abilities of the Storm Path, they likely assumed that some other stationed captain was following Misha’s example and conducting their own private investigation without reporting it up the chain.”
“And to think… they actually sent Gregor to investigate that. It seems their powerful intel-gathering capabilities don’t always perform reliably. Their intelligence network really only works well within the framework of the Serenity Bureau—once someone steps outside of it, they have to scramble to find another way…”
Recalling the intel she had obtained from Gregor’s contact with the Eight-Spired Nest, Dorothy considered this, then shifted her thoughts to the Night Demon.
“Hopefully that Night Demon won’t come to Glamorne… otherwise I’ll not only have to deal with a Crimson-rank executive of the Eight-Spired Nest, but also face a White Ash-rank powerhouse from a completely different major faction. That would be a nightmare.”
“As things stand, there are still far too many mysteries about the Night Demon. It seems to be, like me, someone from a Pure-Color Path. I’d rather not encounter it again if I can help it…”
Dorothy had already carefully analyzed the Night Demon she’d met in the Devonshire crypt. The ability to manipulate multiple branches of a single path was, in her understanding, a trait unique to Pure-Color Path Beyonders. Since arriving in this world, this might be the first time she had met another one like herself.
“Still… if the Night Demon truly is a Pure-Color Shadow Beyonder, then its form might be significantly different from my own Revelation path.”
“First off, compared to me, the Night Demon clearly has special passives conferred by branch abilities. But those passives behave oddly. From Misha’s battle with it, we saw that in close-quarters combat it had powers from the Chalice, and during ranged battle it displayed Stone-like defenses. But when it approached Misha using shadow incarnation, both those traits vanished. There was never any moment when multiple passive traits coexisted. Also, it never showed signs of mixing multiple active Shadow abilities simultaneously.”
“Does that mean… the Night Demon’s use of multiple branches is governed by a different set of rules? Maybe Pure-Color Shadow can access multiple spiritual passives, but can’t combine different abilities at the same time like Pure-Color Revelation can. I, for example, can use the thread of the Marionette Path to conduct the electric state of the Thunder Summoner—controlling corpse marionettes while electrocuting enemies at the same time, or combining multiple abilities from different branches.”
“From what I observed during the fight, the Night Demon seems to need to switch between ability types. When it was in vampire mode, it couldn’t use Storm or Spirit Projection abilities. Once it shifted to another branch, its Blood Shade vampire powers disappeared. It seems that multiple branches can’t coexist simultaneously within it.”
“Pure-Color Revelation is like one person with one account that can use many active skills freely, but has no external passive traits. Pure-Color Shadow, on the other hand, seems like one person with four accounts they can switch between—each account has its own full set of passive traits, but only one can be active at a time.”
“Another point to consider: my Pure-Color Revelation path progresses by gaining one new branch per rank. But when I fought the Night Demon, it immediately displayed three branches at once. Is that a trait unique to Pure-Color Shadow, or is there a divine origin influencing that? In any case, I still don’t know enough about either the Night Demon or the Pure-Color Shadow path. Everything is just speculation for now—I can’t draw any firm conclusions…”
As she watched the vast fields race past the window, Dorothy silently weighed all aspects of this journey in her mind. Before long, the train they rode pressed forward rapidly, eventually vanishing into the horizon beyond the wheat fields.
…
After nearly two full days of travel, Dorothy and Nephthys had ridden the train nearly across the entire main island of Pritt. They were now finally arriving in Handshire, located on the southwestern side of the island—their destination at last within reach.
At noon, as the train neared the end of its journey, it roared through a long tunnel. When it emerged from the darkness, a stunning vista spread out across the window, immediately catching Dorothy’s attention as she was packing up her books in the compartment.
“This is…”
What now appeared before Dorothy’s eyes was a vast and boundless lakeside landscape. Beneath the clear sky, the expansive lake stretched so far that its edges could not be seen. Embraced by lush green forest, countless small boats dotted the sapphire waters. Only gentle ripples stirred the surface, which mirrored the blue sky and drifting clouds like a perfect, polished mirror.
Stunned for a moment by the beauty, Dorothy soon began to search her memories, and eventually recalled this exact sight from a map of the Glamorne region she had studied.
Lake Starbind—that was the name of this stunning lake. It was the largest in the vicinity of Glamorne and one of its most famous scenic sites, known for its crystal-clear waters, vast expanse, and serene, gentle waves.
As she looked at this mirror-like lake reflecting the sky, Dorothy suddenly recalled the prayer lines Professor John had once interpreted for her—the very first line described an item: Glahomir’s Mirror.
And now, looking upon this view, a thought stirred in Dorothy’s heart.
“What could be more fitting to serve as a city’s mirror than this lake before me?”