Chapter 722: The Sacred Land
The deletion of a period from a calendar may seem counterintuitive, but it has precedent—even on Dorothy’s homeworld, Earth. For example, Pope Gregory XIII once removed ten days from the calendar in 1582: October 4th was directly followed by October 15th. This was done to correct the accumulated error of the Julian calendar and realign it for agricultural purposes.
Thus, in Earth’s history, the day after Thursday, October 4th, 1582, became Friday, October 15th. Of course, this adjustment was a human construct—it didn’t alter actual natural time.
But in this world, within the domain of pseudo history, such an act has far deeper consequences. This world is governed by Revelation—history, calendars, and jurisprudence are not peripheral elements but the core framework of reality itself. The so-called "real" entities are mere attachments to this spiritual framework. Therefore, altering history here changes the world itself; altering the calendar alters time itself. The calendar is not merely a measurement of time—it is time.
Just as Pope Gregory XIII erased ten days, Dorothy erased seven thousand years from the calendar. By erasing that span, she made tomorrow become the same date seven thousand years later. Seven millennia vanished into oblivion, and with it, the past from that era became visible to her once more.
Within the pseudo-history world, across the infinite deserts of Busalet, Dorothy stood atop a towering dune, silently gazing upon the awe-inspiring scene ahead.
There, within the sandstorm, was a titanic mirage-like city—a massive, indistinct phantom that stretched endlessly across the horizon, far surpassing Bastis’ size. Its features teetered between real and illusory, as if a mirage cloaked the skyline.
Most of the ghostly metropolis was vague and undefined. Only one colossal pyramid stood clearly among the haze, a towering seven- to eight-hundred-meter structure that exuded majesty and grandeur on one hand, yet felt so light and unreal that it seemed as if a single breath could scatter it.
Since Dorothy altered the calendar, the prior version of the pseudo-history world had vanished, replaced by this scene—a buried truth drawn out by her intervention.
“That’s... a city? That style—is it from the First Dynasty? A First Dynasty ruin on a city scale? That’s unheard of...” murmured Ivy, who was still in her iron-coffin form, awed by the majesty of what lay before them. So much of what had happened today had already shattered her understanding of the world.
“A hidden city within the inner realm... This is the legacy of the First Dynasty? Is this what you've all been searching for? Is this what Unina is after now?”
Ivy continued in disbelief.
Dorothy said nothing, quietly watching the distant city. On the other side, Vania Chafferon looked out as well, letting out a sigh of amazement.
“A city this magnificent... It feels even bigger than Tivian. If it weren’t for how phantom-like it seems, I’d say the sheer awe is comparable to Holy Mount...”
As she spoke, Vania instinctively took a few steps forward. But just then, a shimmer of arcane and cryptic runes flickered before her. A translucent wall of characters formed in her path, stopping her advance.
“A ward? There’s a barrier protecting this city? I’m not allowed to pass?” she whispered, pressing her hand against the invisible wall.
Upon hearing her words, Dorothy reached out as well—only to find that she encountered no resistance.
“It appears... this ward is selective. Looks like it recognizes me,” Dorothy said, examining her hand. She then turned back to Vania, Nephthys, and Ivy.
“You all wait here. I’ll go in and take a look.”
With that, Dorothy lifted into the air and floated toward the illusory city, disappearing into the haze. Left behind were two people and a coffin.
“Is it really alright for Scholar to go alone...?”
Vania asked, looking toward the direction where Dorothy had vanished into the sandstorm.
Nephthys waved a hand casually.
“Relax, Vania. If there’s anyone we don’t need to worry about, it’s Scholar. You’ve seen what she’s capable of. This ward recognizing her must be something only a rightful heir of Revelation, chosen by the Heaven’s Arbiter, could receive. Nothing to worry about—just trust her.”
With a carefree tone, Nephthys leaned against the wall to rest—only for an unexpected event to unfold.
“Wah!”
She tumbled straight through, crashing into the sand and rolling a few times, ending up with a mouthful of it.
“Pfft—ugh! Where’s the wall?!” she exclaimed, spitting out sand while trying to sit up.
Vania blinked, surprised, then reached out herself. As her fingers approached, the glowing runes reappeared and the ward materialized again, halting her movement.
Both of them froze.
After exchanging confused looks, Vania slowly spoke.
“Thief K, it seems... you’re not affected by the ward either.”
“Eh...?” Nephthys blinked, at a loss for words.
…
On the other side, after passing through the barrier wall, Dorothy flew straight into the storm of swirling sand, heading toward the mirage-like city in the distance. After a long period of flight, she finally began to draw near the phantom city.
This colossal city had no outer walls. Unlike a typical mirage that vanishes upon approach, the closer Dorothy came, the clearer her view of the city became.
The buildings were generally four to five stories tall, ornately decorated in a style distinctly reminiscent of the First Dynasty—grand and regal. Massive avenues divided the urban sprawl. Even from above, the city stretched endlessly, its boundaries nowhere in sight. Beyond the enormous central pyramid, many other towering, monumental structures dotted the cityscape, all of them testament to the metropolis's former grandeur. Dorothy had seen similar layouts before, but only in miniature models—nothing compared to the overwhelming scale now before her eyes.
If there was one flaw in this marvel, it was that the city’s magnificence wasn’t “real.” Everything existed in a state of blurry unreality—an unprecedented phenomenon even in the pseudo-history world. Usually, while the history in pseudo-history was fabricated, its contents were real within the world. Yet this city felt intangible, like a figment on the edge of existence.
In addition to its hazy nature, the city was entirely lifeless. There wasn’t a single person or creature in sight—nothing but utter silence and stillness.
“Hidden behind a veil of seven thousand years... So this is the Sacred Land of the First Dynasty? But like this, there's nothing here I can actually analyze or interpret. Can I really find the secrets of Gold-rank advancement here?”
As these doubts stirred within her, Dorothy pressed on undeterred, setting her course for the city’s heart—the massive pyramid.
The pyramid, easily over 700 meters tall, occupied an immense area. It dominated a vast portion of the city’s footprint. As Dorothy approached its base and looked up, the structure loomed like a sky-blotting wall, exuding overwhelming pressure.
She followed the pyramid’s phantom wall for quite some time before finally discovering an entrance: a massive stone gate flanked by two hawk-headed statues. The gate stood already ajar, revealing a broad avenue that led into the pyramid. The gateway was over twenty meters high and about ten meters wide—a spectacle in itself.
Dorothy paused briefly at the entrance, surveyed it, then stepped through. Inside, she found herself in a hallway far wider than a typical roadway, which led deep into the heart of the pyramid.
The towering walls on either side of the corridor were densely carved with inscriptions and murals—there wasn’t a single blank space. Dorothy tried to examine the wall art as she flew through the corridor, but whenever she focused too intently, the murals would blur, rendering their content unreadable.
Eventually, she stopped trying to interpret the art and continued forward. At the end of the long passage, she reached a vast chamber.
It was a tremendous indoor space, roughly square in shape, with a height nearing a hundred meters and a width spanning several hundred. The walls were lined with enormous humanoid reliefs. The floor, however, was mostly absent—replaced by a yawning abyss. There was no visible ceiling, only a canopy of gleaming stars overhead. In the midst of this starlit vault, a massive circular platform floated above the chasm.
From each of the four walls, a corridor extended outward, each linked to the floating platform by a narrow bridge. Dorothy had entered from one of these paths.
“This looks more like an altar than a tomb...”
Dorothy murmured. Initially, she had assumed the pyramid to be a burial chamber, but this vast space suggested otherwise.
She flew along the narrow bridge to the center of the platform. Here, she could better observe its structure.
Engraved into the platform were stellar constellations, mirroring the sky above. Lines connected the stars, forming intricate constellations. At the heart of the platform, surrounded by these star patterns, were five simple stone chairs. Four were arranged in a ring, facing inward, and in their center stood the fifth.
Seated in that central chair—was a figure.
A corpse.
It wore an opulent robe, heavy and intricate, along with a large and finely wrought ceremonial crown. Mystical adornments hung from its body, and star-patterned sashes wrapped around it. Embroidered stars covered the robe. A white mask of unknown material veiled its face.
Despite the corpse’s flesh having sunken and withered in places, revealing skeletal hands, Dorothy could tell from the attire that this had once been a woman. Her garments were similar to the female pharaoh Dorothy had seen before—but even more regal, more solemn.
And most importantly—unlike everything else in this illusory city, this corpse was real.
Yes, the body was tangible, strikingly clear amidst the surrounding haze.
Dorothy froze upon seeing it, stunned, taking a long moment before she could react.
“This style... an undead pharaoh? No... she’s not undead. This is a real corpse.”
As she drifted closer, her thoughts sharpened. Soon, she had a strong suspicion of the corpse’s identity.
This was the one who stood above the four Death Monarchs, the counterpart to the four pharaohs—once the pinnacle of Heaven’s Arbiter faith in the First Dynasty. She was the Gold-rank figure of the Pure Reason Path. She was the First Dynasty’s High Priestess of the Heaven’s Arbiter: the Heaven-Anointed Sage.
“The Gold of the Pure Reason Path... didn’t become undead after the fall of the First Dynasty?”
“I erased seven thousand years from the calendar, and yet she still appears here in skeletal form... What does that mean?”
Dorothy descended from the air, landing softly on the platform. She walked, step by step, toward the corpse seated on the stone throne.
Just as she approached, preparing to examine the remains—
A voice echoed suddenly through the vast chamber.
“You have finally come, O Seer of Foretold Destiny...”
It was a mystic, ethereal woman’s voice, appearing without warning. Though spoken in a language Dorothy had never heard before, she understood it instinctively.
“Who are you?”
Dorothy asked sharply, immediately on guard, her gaze scanning the chamber.
The voice responded once more, airy and elusive.
“I am the keeper of forgotten history, the bearer of divine memory... the withered husk before you, eroded by time…”
“You are... the High Priestess of Heaven’s Arbiter? The Heaven-Anointed Sage of the First Dynasty?!”
Dorothy gasped, staring wide-eyed at the corpse before her.
“Indeed... I am the final Prophet of the Sacred Dynasty’s divine revelation. I have long awaited your arrival, Seer of Fate.”
The voice answered calmly. Dorothy pressed on, her expression stern.
“You call me the Seer of Fate. Did you use divination to foresee my coming?”
“No... it was not I who foresaw you, but the Divine Mentor. Through Their revelation, both Shepsuna and I glimpsed visions of your existence. And thus, after the Cataclysm, I have waited...”
The voice reverberated in Dorothy’s ears. Her brows furrowed deeply.
“The Heaven’s Arbiter foresaw my arrival? Could They truly glimpse such a distant future? If They foresaw me coming here... then did They also foresee the fall of the First Dynasty?” she asked seriously.
The reply came without hesitation.
“Do not question the power of the Divine Mentor. The things They foresaw go far beyond what we could imagine. They foresaw your arrival... the collapse of the Dynasty... the fall of civilizations... the strife among gods... the invasion of madness... the rise of the Radiance... even Their own death.”
“Heaven’s Arbiter... foresaw Their own demise...”
Dorothy murmured, eyes wide, unable to hide her shock. And then, unconsciously, she opened her mouth again.
“If fate could be changed so easily, then it wouldn’t be called fate,” the Heaven-Anointed Sage replied calmly.
Dorothy pressed further.
“Even gods can’t change their fate? Aren’t They supposed to sit high above the heavens and rule over all life? Shouldn’t They be the masters of fate?”
“Humans have human fates, and gods have godly fates. A god may govern the destinies of humans at will, but that doesn’t mean They can fully control Their own. This was part of the revelation personally imparted to me by the Divine Mentor,” said the Sage in a composed voice.
Dorothy continued, voice stern.
“Are you saying Heaven’s Arbiter was destined to die—and knew it? Didn’t They resist? Didn’t They try to do something?”
After a slight pause, the ancient voice responded slowly.
“Among the gods, none understands fate better than the Divine Mentor. What I can confirm is that the Divine Mentor had always made arrangements and preparations regarding Their perceived fate. Whether They were resisting it or simply making posthumous arrangements, I cannot say. I only know that in the end, the Divine Mentor still fell. Whether it was the result of failed resistance or a deliberate choice, I do not know.
“But long before Their fall, the Divine Mentor foresaw it. They secretly instructed us to prepare accordingly. This included hiding the entire Sacred Land within the depths of history, and covertly guiding Hafdar and others to begin preparations for the transformation ritual. Hafdar once believed his research into such rituals was forbidden and heretical, but in truth, it was the result of my quiet guidance under the Divine Mentor’s revelation…”
The Heaven-Anointed Sage’s words deepened the gravity of the situation. Dorothy’s expression hardened.
“Why did the First Dynasty collapse?”
“The Sacred Dynasty perished in the wake of the Divine Mentor’s fall, triggering a cataclysm of unprecedented scale. This disaster emerged from the Realm of Knowledge and poured into the present world, erupting across the entire sky above the Sacred Dynasty, manifesting in countless forms that annihilated everything accumulated over thousands of years.
“However, due to the Divine Mentor’s foresight, I had already enacted several evacuation policies beforehand. I managed to transport as many ordinary citizens as possible to the northern continent’s colonies, thus slightly mitigating the losses. But even so, nothing could prevent the Sacred Dynasty’s total destruction.
“The dynasty was built upon the Divine Mentor—Their traces existed everywhere. When the calamity arrived, those traces became its points of origin. Scriptures turned into cursed texts, statues transformed into monsters, sacred altars whispered maddening babble. Corrupted and mutated knowledge surged from every trace left behind by the Divine Mentor, poisoning all life around it. All followers of Revelation—due to the information in their minds and their own spiritual mutations—either died or turned abominable. Except for the sanctuaries I had established in the colonies, no part of the Sacred Dynasty’s land was spared.
“Our civilization—the first created by humankind—was completely destroyed in a maelstrom of madness. Though some embers of life remained, I had meticulously purged those remnants of all traces of the Divine Mentor and the Sacred Dynasty. They could carry on humanity’s lineage, but not the Sacred Dynasty’s. Besides the people in the sanctuaries, only a rare few managed to survive by sheer luck.”
The Heaven-Anointed Sage’s tone remained light, even indifferent, as she recounted this annihilation. Dorothy, upon hearing all this, stood frozen in place.
“You’re saying... the emergence of cognitive poison originated from the fall of Heaven’s Arbiter? That the destruction of the First Dynasty was caused by the sudden outbreak and spread of cognitive poison?”
Dorothy asked in disbelief. The Sage’s silence seemed to confirm it.
“You just said that the invasion of cognitive poison caused nearly all followers of Revelation to either die or mutate. By followers of Revelation, you mean Beyonders of Revelation, don’t you? The reason you led the four pharaohs to conduct the transformation ritual was to break away from the Revelation Path—so they wouldn’t be affected by Heaven’s Arbiter’s downfall. But what about you? Of all people, you were closest to Heaven’s Arbiter. Why weren’t you affected?”
Dorothy asked intently. The Sage responded at her usual measured pace.
“Because... I carry within me the divinity that the Divine Mentor personally extracted and entrusted to me. With this fragment of divinity, I performed a ritual—at the cost of my life—to sever the Sacred Land from the present world and bury it deep within history, thus avoiding the disaster’s reach.”
Upon hearing this, Dorothy finally understood the origin of the pseudo-history world.
It was the Heaven-Anointed Sage who, using the Heaven’s Arbiter’s divine power, created the pseudo-history world to conceal herself and the Sacred Land of Revelation from the catastrophe that followed Heaven’s Arbiter’s fall.
“So... you’re already dead?”
Dorothy asked. The reply came swiftly.
“Yes, I am dead. What you’re speaking to now is but a sliver of consciousness preserved by the ritual. Not even a proper undead.”
“Why go this far? You could’ve used the transformation ritual yourself, become an undead, and avoided the catastrophe. As an undead, you’d be freer, and more powerful. Was it to preserve the Sacred Land?”
Dorothy’s voice remained solemn. After a brief silence, the Sage responded quietly.
“Preserving the Sacred Land was one reason. But more importantly—it was for you.”
“Me?”
Dorothy asked, startled. She couldn’t understand how a decision made seven thousand years ago had anything to do with her.
“Seer of Fate... I wish to ask—what is it you seek, after enduring so much to arrive here?”
The ethereal voice echoed gently. Dorothy paused, then looked solemnly at the withered corpse seated on the stone chair.
“I came... in search of knowledge. To seek the ritual of ascension to Gold-rank along the Path of Pure Reason.”
“Ah... then it is as it should be...”
The Sage exhaled deeply. Seeing Dorothy’s confused expression, she continued.
“The Path of Pure Reason is the closest among all to the Divine Mentor. The ritual to ascend to the Archetype Realm cannot be inscribed in any book, engraved on any stone tablet, carved into any wood, or molded in any clay.
“No medium—mundane or mystical—can bear the knowledge of the Heaven-Anointed Sage’s ascension ritual. It can only be received through divine revelation from the Divine Mentor Themselves—or passed down directly by the previous Heaven-Anointed Sage.”
The last priestess of the Heaven’s Arbiter revealed this truth to Dorothy. Her eyes widened, then she spoke frankly.
“So... that’s why you refused to become undead? Because... you had to preserve your identity as Heaven-Anointed Sage?”
“Yes. Once I became undead, that title would’ve been stripped from me. The knowledge of the ascension ritual in my mind would vanish instantly. I would no longer be able to teach you how to become the next Heaven-Anointed Sage.
“And most crucially—if I had become undead, I could no longer contain the divine essence the Divine Mentor gave me. That power still remains within my body even now. It is the greatest legacy the Divine Mentor left behind in this world. And through me... it shall be passed on to you.”