Within the pseudo-history world of Busalet, Dorothy, clad in a long robe, paced slowly through a vast desert, her expression tinged with impatience. Not far from her, Vania sat cross-legged on the sand, also visibly tense.
“Miss Scholar… what’s the current situation? The attempt you just made… did it succeed?”
Vania asked with a voice filled with uncertainty and unease. Dorothy paused slightly before replying slowly.
“I don’t know. Thief has already acted, but whether it worked is still unclear. We can’t confirm the situation in the material world,” Dorothy said gravely.
Just now, she had instructed Nephthys to contact Nust in Pritt and lift the protective seal on the Golden Scepter, in an effort to summon and guide Hafdar’s power over.
Now that the Golden Scepter’s protection had been lifted and Nephthys herself showed no abnormalities, the only question was whether Hafdar’s power had actually been drawn over.
Currently, Dorothy had no means of observing Unina’s position in the real world effectively—she simply had no way of knowing what was going on there. Although she didn't expect Hafdar to be able to defeat Unina, at the very least, she needed to understand the situation.
With Unina's ongoing erosion of the pseudo-history world, the barrier between it and the real world had thinned greatly. Dorothy could, in theory, extend her threads of spirituality outward to probe the situation. But due to Unina’s overwhelming dominion in the Chalice domain, Dorothy feared that any such extension might be detected and countered, so she refrained.
“You… wish to know what’s happening in the material world?”
At that moment, a voice emerged from the iron coffin where Ivy rested. Dorothy paused slightly, then turned to the heavy sarcophagus and asked.
“Sister Ivy, do you have a way to observe the real world?”
“Something like that… My ship body is equipped with a vast array of sensory devices, some of which can still connect to me remotely. When I was first sent into this inner realm, my link with them was severed. But after that traitor began the erosion, I started to barely sense their presence again. I can now attempt to link to the sensors still attached to my ship body and project the outside scene…”
Spoken from within the iron coffin housing Ivy’s mind core, this explanation caused a subtle sense of relief in Dorothy.
“Of course. Ivy’s ship body is still in the real world. As the cognitive core of a mystical warship, she must have a way to wirelessly link with her onboard sensors… With the boundary between pseudo-history and reality now blurred, it’s natural that she can reconnect.
“The technology behind Ivy was mainly developed from Lantern and Stone, with perhaps a little bit of Silence or Revelation from the Church or Craftsmen’s Guild. But it has nothing to do with Chalice, so using her to observe the real world is much safer than extending my own spiritual threads.
“But on the other hand, if Ivy can link to her sensors, that means her ship body hasn’t been fully destroyed… Did Unina deliberately leave it intact? Or has she simply been too occupied to deal with Ivy’s ship—Is Hafdar really that strong, forcing her attention elsewhere?”
These thoughts flashed through Dorothy’s mind before she turned back to the scene before her and addressed Ivy.
“Then I’ll trouble you.”
“Just a moment…”
Ivy responded softly and then fell silent. Several seconds later, she finally spoke again, her voice tinged with disbelief.
“This… these are… what is going on?!”
Her tone was filled with astonishment. Dorothy frowned and asked immediately,
“What’s happening? What’s going on outside?”
“You… just look for yourselves.”
As Ivy said this, the gemstones embedded in the edge of her iron coffin began to glow, and a series of illusory three-dimensional projections materialized beside her. Dorothy could now see what was happening in the material world—and the sight left her momentarily stunned.
“This is…”
From the projections, Dorothy saw a boundless land of flesh and blood, swarming with malformed lifeforms born from it: massive red wolves, swarming flies, clouds of fungal miasma—all sprouting continuously from the living meatland. Enormous water serpents descended from the clouds, joining the tide of aberrations to advance in one unified direction.
At the focal point of this assault, a colossal, ghostly mausoleum hovered in the air. Within, several figures wielded various powers to fight back against the onslaught—freezing beams of extreme cold immobilized the sky serpents, vicious curses felled the red wolves, and sharp gales scattered the swarms and plagues. The dead within the tomb unleashed devastating powers against Unina’s domain of flesh and blood, bringing decay to that once-thriving land of monstrosities.
“These… these are the powers you had Nephthys summon, Miss Dorothy? They’re… this powerful? These people… these dead… who are they…?”
Vania was left dumbfounded, thinking to herself. Meanwhile, Ivy also voiced her astonishment.
“This is the power that your so-called ‘Thief’ summoned? This spirituality… these abilities… that attire—they must be the legendary Death Monarchs of North Ufiga, no? Just who is your ‘Thief’, to summon four Death Monarchs at once? Legend says they’re all of Gold rank!”
Ivy exclaimed. Dorothy gave no reply, only continued watching the projection in silence.
“Hafdar has come… and not alone. The other three must also be Death Monarchs—once the Sage Kings of the First Dynasty?
“The First Dynasty’s dead, now spirits, have gathered here. Only Hafdar bore a grudge against Nephthys, so they’re clearly not here for her. The only possible reason is the pseudo-history world itself—the sacred land of the First Dynasty! Heopolis… does it also possess some sort of defensive mechanism?”
As Dorothy looked on, she thought silently. Though she was shocked by the simultaneous arrival of four Death Monarchs, in retrospect, it made perfect sense—after all, Unina was seizing the divinity of Heaven’s Arbiter.
“Now that these four Death Monarchs are clashing with Unina, maybe this is our opportunity. If Unina loosens her grip on the pseudo-history world, we may be able to escape—flee as far as possible…”
This was the plan forming in Dorothy’s heart. She had no interest in confronting either faction. All she wanted now—was to run. As far as she possibly could.
At the current level of combat, Dorothy couldn’t possibly intervene—even if she could, she wouldn’t know whom to support. Unina was, of course, out of the question, but as for those undead pharaohs, Dorothy wasn’t exactly keen on contacting them either. With Hafdar among them, and given that her own goal involved coveting the legacy of Heaven’s Arbiter, who knew how those pharaohs might react to her?
Thus, Dorothy’s current hope was simply that both sides would wear each other out, leaving her with a chance to escape. Judging from the situation in front of her, that wasn’t entirely impossible.
Just as Dorothy was watching the battle unfold on the pharaohs’ side through the projection, pondering her escape strategy, one of the four pharaohs—a female one dressed in a veil and long robes, her attire distinctly feminine—suddenly raised her head. Hidden behind the veil, her gaze seemed to lock directly with Dorothy’s. The moment she saw this, Dorothy froze.
“That female pharaoh… did she see me? Was that just my imagination?”
Dorothy thought in astonishment. Then, she saw the female pharaoh slowly raise her bandage-wrapped hand and begin to trace shapes in the void.
Though no visible marks were left in the air, Dorothy could recognize the movements clearly—she was writing something in the modern North Ufigan script.
“Only by allowing the history of the Holy Domain to converge with the present time can we truly resist the invasion of corruption. Only then can you complete the pilgrimage. Otherwise, the power of the Divine Mentor will eventually be taken away…”
Dorothy instantly understood the message and widened her eyes. At that very moment, Ivy’s voice suddenly rang out.
“The thickness of the barrier… just increased!”
No sooner had Ivy spoken than the projected images around her began to distort. At the same time, Dorothy sensed a new change occurring in the pseudo-history world.
The powerful force that had been eroding the pseudo-history quickly receded. Apart from a small portion left behind, the majority of it withdrew back to its source. As that erosion faded, the barrier between the pseudo-history and the material world thickened once more.
In the end, with the barrier reinforced again, Ivy’s connection with her sensors in the material world gradually weakened and was eventually severed. The projected images flickered and then vanished. Vania, witnessing all this, couldn’t help but express her surprise.
“This… what just happened?”
“That Unina… she withdrew most of the divinity she was using to erode this world. That’s made the distance between this world and the material world even greater, and now Sister Ivy probably can’t link to her ship anymore.”
Dorothy replied analytically. Ivy also spoke up slowly.
“Miss Scholar is correct. The strengthening of the barrier between realms has made it impossible for me to sense my ship in the material world again… But wait—you just mentioned divinity. Are you saying that traitor was using divinity to invade this world?”
Ivy’s tone was laced with astonishment. Dorothy nodded.
“Yes. Only divine power could corrode this world. As things stand now, those four Death Monarchs have forced Unina into a corner, so she’s summoned more of her divinity to handle them.”
“Unina withdrew the divinity used to erode the pseudo-history world… then, Miss Scholar, doesn’t that mean you can now control this world again? We can escape!”
Vania exclaimed. Dorothy, hearing her words, silently took out her pseudo-history manuscript.
“Yes, it looks that way.”
With that, she gazed at her manuscript, noticing that the countless blood-like threads once entwined upon it had completely vanished—she could write on it again.
The return of control over the pseudo-history meant Dorothy could now travel back into the past and compress time, creating a safe way to escape—something she had been hoping for but unable to do earlier.
Now, Dorothy could finally restart the pseudo-history world and flee safely. Yet she didn’t act immediately. The message the female pharaoh had written still lingered in her mind.
“Only by completing the pilgrimage can I prevent the Holy Domain from being lost…”
Dorothy frowned slightly, deep in thought. She didn’t know how the female pharaoh had discovered her presence, nor why she had conveyed such a message. But she knew the words weren’t wrong. Now that Unina had withdrawn most of her divinity, it was clearly to counter the four pharaohs.
Though those four pharaohs were currently holding their own—perhaps even slightly gaining the upper hand—once Unina began fully unleashing her divinity in battle, the outcome would likely change dramatically. Dorothy had seen the power of divinity firsthand—and this was divinity from the Mother of Chalice, a main deity. Once that divine force entered the fray, she doubted the pharaohs could withstand it.
If the pharaohs were defeated, then Heopolis—and the divinity of Heaven’s Arbiter within it—would undoubtedly fall into Unina’s hands. That would cut off Dorothy’s path to advancing to the Gold rank. She absolutely could not allow things to reach that outcome.
“What’s wrong? Miss Scholar, if you’ve regained control here, shouldn’t we escape?”
Ivy asked from the side. Dorothy paused briefly, then continued.
“Yes, but… before we escape, I want to try something first…”
With that, Dorothy reached out to touch Ivy’s iron coffin, then unfurled her pseudo-history manuscript and began to write upon it. As her pen touched the page, the entire world around them began to fracture…
...
Once Dorothy regained control of the pseudo-history world, she decisively brought Vania, Ivy, and the approaching Nephthys back into a point in the past of the pseudo-history timeline, where they temporarily settled.
Back in the past, Dorothy no longer needed to worry about running out of time. Within the historical past, she could take her time planning.
After reuniting the group in the past, Dorothy didn’t plan to leave this troubled place just yet. Instead, she began an investigation.
The riddle she sought to solve was how to enter the Holy Domain. Dorothy intended to uncover a method within the pseudo-history to gain access to Heopolis and fulfill the female pharaoh’s message.
Accomplishing this wasn’t easy. To enter the historical timeline where Heopolis existed, Dorothy had to write a pseudo-history that extended the First Dynasty’s history—but that required two things: sufficient spirituality, and a certain degree of understanding of the dynasty’s real history. A pseudo-history had to be built upon truth.
The first requirement wasn’t too hard for Dorothy. Though the First Dynasty had perished seven thousand years ago—a long time—she could slowly recover her spirituality by compressing time within pseudo-history. That would be enough to meet the spiritual requirement.
The real challenge was the second point.
False history had to be grounded in real history. But Dorothy currently knew far too little about the First Dynasty’s past. After that female pharaoh left her that cryptic message, there hadn’t been time for further hints. As a result, Dorothy lacked enough information to build a pseudo-history modeled on the First Dynasty.
And so, Dorothy’s new objective within the pseudo-history world became this: to gather as much information about the First Dynasty as possible.
…
Pseudo-history world, at a certain period in Bastis.
In the daylight hours, within Bastis—the capital of the fictional Mogu Dynasty in the pseudo-history world—a festive celebration was underway. Across the broad streets and winding alleys, countless citizens had poured out of their homes, singing and dancing in joyous celebration of their traditional festival.
At the central plaza of Bastis—the heart of the festivities—countless residents, including members of the royal family and ministers, had gathered for a major part of the celebration.
When the projection on the massive solar corona at the plaza’s center aligned with a predetermined moment, the ritual officially began. Under the king’s lead, everyone present began worshipping a massive, broken stone stele. Upon its surface were etched ancient, mysterious characters.
Besides this broken stele, many smaller items were also highly revered by the crowd—shards of stone tablets and all sorts of curious gold and silver artifacts. All of these sacred items shared one trait: they were ancient relics from a distant dynasty.
“What… exactly are they worshiping?” asked Nephthys, dressed in a robe and veil, watching the lively scene from a second-floor balcony.
Dorothy, similarly dressed, stood beside her and responded plainly.
“They’re worshiping relics left behind by the First Dynasty. When I created this pseudo-history Mogu Dynasty, I wrote into the setting that one of its kings experienced a coup. He fled the palace, was chased, and ended up hiding in a ruin from ancient times. There, he escaped his pursuers and later united loyal forces outside the capital to suppress the rebellion.
“I set that king to be deeply awed by the ancient civilization that had protected him. After quelling the rebellion, he ordered the nationwide search for similar ruins and artifacts, building temples to enshrine them. He even designated the day of his escape as a holiday and gathered all the significant archaeological finds related to that ancient civilization to be worshiped on that day. That’s the festival we’re witnessing now—it's called the ‘Reverence of Antiquity Festival.’”
Standing beside Nephthys, Dorothy patiently explained the situation. After hearing her, Nephthys nodded and said:
“I see… so Miss Dorothy, you created this setup to gather First Dynasty relics for your research.”
“Yes. This method allows me to quickly collect scattered First Dynasty artifacts across Busalet for study. After all, the pseudo-history world is a mirror of the real one—anything that exists in the real world also exists here.”
Dorothy explained that her earlier experiments had confirmed several traits of the pseudo-history world. Without making major environmental changes, its layout and features mirrored the real world precisely. If a certain mineral was buried in a real-world location, it existed in the same spot here. If ruins or artifacts were present in the real world, they could also be found in the same location in the pseudo-history.
To unravel the secrets of the First Dynasty’s history, Dorothy had created the Mogu Dynasty, which revered ancient ruins, to help her collect relics scattered across Busalet. To conveniently examine all these artifacts, she even invented an annual festival during which the Mogu Dynasty’s king would display all relics collected over the past year.
Each year on the Reverence of Antiquity Festival, the king of the Mogu Dynasty would gather all First Dynasty relics unearthed over the past year and exhibit them for public worship. All Dorothy needed to do was jump from one year’s festival to the next to track the entirety of the Mogu Dynasty’s annual archaeological progress. It was like having the pseudo-history residents hold a yearly archaeological symposium, and Dorothy only had to “attend” it to stay updated—saving herself immense time and effort.
“A festival of reverence… designed to aid your historical research. By the way, which iteration is this? Have you made any important discoveries yet?”
Nephthys asked. They had now spent some time in the pseudo-history, jumping through different periods. This was Nephthys’ first time witnessing the festival.
“This is the tenth Reverence Festival. As for discoveries… there’ve been many—gold and silver wares, stone steles—but nothing of major use to me. I still haven’t found the key to deciphering the First Dynasty’s ancient script. I can’t read the carvings or inscriptions, which makes it hard to learn more about their history.”
Dorothy murmured, brows slightly furrowed. Despite seeing many relics over these ten festivals, she still couldn’t interpret the ancient language. The script of the First Dynasty had been lost for over seven millennia. Cracking it was even harder than deciphering imperial script.
Currently, most of the information on the First Dynasty in the mystical world came from Third Epoch imperial archaeologists. Their research had been translated into Fourth Epoch language and circulated through mystical texts, but modern scholars found it very hard to study the First Dynasty directly. Aside from the ancient Death Monarchs, almost no one could read its script anymore.
Dorothy had long hoped the Mogu Dynasty’s archaeological efforts would uncover something monumental—like a Rosetta Stone—to aid in decoding the language. But after ten festivals, nothing of the sort had turned up.
“Looks like this year’s festival is another bust…”
After using her corpse marionettes to quickly examine all the relics, Dorothy sighed. As the festivals continued, the supply of discoverable First Dynasty artifacts in Busalet was running dry. Each year’s festival offered fewer items than the last—leaving Dorothy increasingly disappointed.
“Will I really fail to decipher the script even after unearthing every last relic in Busalet…?”
That thought surfaced in her mind, filling her with anxiety. But worry alone did nothing—she could only continue her archaeological work in hopes of future breakthroughs.
“Let’s go back and rest. Tomorrow, we’ll see what next year’s festival brings.”
“Alright.”
Dorothy spoke plainly, turned around, and walked off. Nephthys nodded and followed after her.
…
The next morning, Dorothy immediately began editing the timeline. Since the festival always fell on March 15th each year, and they were currently in Mogu Calendar Year 17, she set the next jump to March 15th, Year 18. After a moment of temporal rupture and reconstruction, they arrived one year later.
Then Dorothy left Vania and Nephthys at the base to watch over Ivy and went alone to attend the festival. As she walked through Bastis in the pseudo-history world, the scenes were just as lively and unchanged as last year.
She slowly made her way to the plaza and saw the newly gathered relics. Amid the enthusiastic atmosphere, Dorothy let her corpse marionettes examine them—but once again, found nothing novel. A wave of disappointment crept over her.
After a full round of observation, Dorothy confirmed that this eleventh festival was nearly identical to the ten before it. The participating residents were essentially the same… The royal family officiating the event had only minor changes… The season was the same, the activities unchanged. Even the shadows cast by the sun at the time of the ritual—the corona’s projection, the angles, and the sun’s position at every moment—were all exactly the same.
Wait a second…
Amid the monotony, Dorothy suddenly began carefully comparing each past festival. And then, a sense of unease hit her.
“No… something’s wrong… It’s fine if the participants and events are repetitive. But for the projection angles of every object, and the shape of the solar corona’s shadow to match perfectly every time… That’s excessive… That shouldn’t be happening…”
In a flash, Dorothy’s eyes widened as she stared at the corona at the ritual site. Its projection form—at that exact moment—was identical to her memories of the previous ten festivals. Not a single detail was off.
And that… felt deeply wrong.
Some might raise a question: The Reverence of Antiquity Festival is set on March 15th each year, and the official start time of the ritual is always the same—so isn’t it normal that the projection of the solar corona would look exactly identical every time? Isn’t this just how it’s supposed to be?
But in truth, it’s precisely this seemingly “non-issue” that holds the biggest problem.
The issue lies in this: in reality, the same calendar date in different years—March 15th, for example—does not correspond exactly to the same solar time. There should always be at least some minor discrepancy.
This discrepancy arises because the planet’s rotation and revolution periods do not divide evenly. Just like Earth—Dorothy’s former home—its revolution around the Sun takes approximately 365 days and 5 hours, not a clean 365 days. For the sake of convenience, calendars typically round this down to 365, omitting the 5-hour excess. But that omitted portion doesn’t just disappear—it accumulates year by year, leading to a discrepancy called precession. That’s why leap years were introduced—to add an extra day periodically and correct the drift.
The world Dorothy currently resides in is similar to Earth: each year has a little over 360 days, and its planetary rotation and revolution cycles also don’t divide evenly. Thus, leap years are necessary here as well. That means even if the date reads March 15th each year, the planet’s actual position in its orbit would vary slightly, and so the sun’s place in the sky—hence the shape and position of the corona’s shadow—should also show tiny differences.
So, under normal circumstances, the sun’s position on March 15th each year should show a subtle shift in the sky. And the corresponding projections and shadows on the ground—including the solar corona—should also differ slightly. That would be natural.
However, in this pseudo-history world, the reality is… the sun’s position during the festival is always exactly the same. As a result, the projection of the corona is perfectly identical each time, without a single deviation.
And what does that imply? That in this pseudo-history world, the planet’s rotation and revolution form a perfect ratio? No—Dorothy didn’t think so.
This phenomenon didn’t arise from planetary motion—but from the calendar.
When a new dynasty is founded, it invariably establishes its own calendar, symbolizing the beginning of a new era. That has always been the case with the dynasties in Busalet. Each one had its own unique calendar, and when Dorothy created their pseudo-histories, she naturally included the corresponding calendar reforms—it was an essential part of any pseudo-history foundation.
For the more recent dynasties, Dorothy had ample historical records and could accurately reproduce their calendars. But for those more ancient dynasties—due to sparse records—she often couldn’t find their original calendars. So, in many cases, Dorothy simply made one up on the fly.
And she wasn’t very careful when she did. Rushing to get to more exciting content, she’d often lazily reuse old templates: “365 days in a year, 12 months per year, year one is the founding year, then year two, three, etc.” She didn’t even bother adding leap years—completely arbitrary.
For these ancient dynasties, Dorothy had always assumed the difficulty in aligning their timelines with the present year—now 1361—was due to uncertainty about their founding dates. But now she realized her sloppily invented calendars also played a big role.
Among those ancient pseudo-dynasties was the Mogu Dynasty—the very one currently active in the pseudo-history world Dorothy was inside. In the real world, the Mogu Dynasty was a Busalet-era kingdom destroyed over 200 years ago. Dorothy had extended its life in pseudo-history using her fabricated timeline—but the calendar she gave it was flawed.
365 days in a year, no leap years. That meant the Mogu calendar assumed a perfect year every time—exactly 365 days, no drift. With such “perfection,” each calendar date matched exactly with the same point in time every year. So March 15th in one year would align perfectly with March 15th of every other year. The sun and its projections would thus appear in exactly the same position.
What does this imply?
Others might not notice, but to Dorothy, this revelation held extraordinary significance.
It meant that in this pseudo-history world, it wasn’t time that defined the calendar—but the calendar that defined time.
Yes—in the real world, people create calendars based on the natural cycles of the sun and moon. But in the pseudo-history world, the calendar defines the nature of time itself. If Dorothy wrote a calendar that included leap years, the timeline of the pseudo-history world would reflect that and behave nearly like the real world. If she wrote a crude 365-day calendar with no leap years, the pseudo-world would automatically reshape time to fit that structure—making leap years cease to exist.
This phenomenon was easy to understand once she thought about it. The pseudo-history world was ruled by the divinity of Revelation. And history, law, and calendars all fell under that domain. Therefore, in a world shaped by Revelation, calendars rule time.
Once Dorothy noticed the anomaly in timing, it took her only an instant to figure out the logic behind it. She stood in place for a few seconds, then a new idea began to take shape in her mind.
“So that’s how it is… If calendars govern time here… then what if I rewrote them? I wonder—how far can a calendar change reshape time itself…?”
With that thought, Dorothy headed to a tavern alone, sat in a quiet corner, and pulled out several of her pseudo-history manuscripts. After some consideration, she selected a suitable one.
Then, she began to alter the information on it.
She overhauled the calendar of a dynasty known as the Didelo Dynasty—and in one sweeping stroke, she erased over 7,000 years of time from it.
In that moment, Dorothy was like Pope Gregory XIII from Earth’s history, who reformed the Julian calendar into the Gregorian one. Gregory’s reform skipped ten calendar days—but Dorothy had just erased seven thousand years. Gregory’s edit caused no real disruption in physical time, but in a world governed by Revelation, Dorothy’s act would have immense consequences.
If she couldn’t travel back to Heopolis seven thousand years ago… then she would simply bring Heopolis forward—into the present.