Eastern Pritt, Tivian.
Above Tivian, a dark red storm began to stir violently through space, sweeping in all directions. The entire sky was gradually shrouded in a deep, crimson shadow that pressed down with suffocating intensity.
The Dreamscape illusion originally suspended over Tivian was now becoming extremely distorted and unstable. Visibly, the forest scenery within the illusion was rapidly changing: dark red thorns burst from the dreamsoil, extending upward to entwine the giant trees, as if parasitic plants intent on strangling them.
At the center of the Dreamscape illusion, the once-pure white dream cocoon was now covered in sinister crimson patterns. A grotesque and ravenous spider was sinking its venomous fangs into it, seemingly sucking out its nourishment.
“How… could this be… The Lady of Pain… she’s beginning to devour the divinity of the Sacred Cocoon… She wants to usurp the Dream Lord’s throne! We must stop Her now, or else this world…”
Beside Dorothy, the floating black cat was trembling in pain and distress, voicing his warning to the great dragon beside him. At this point, he could barely form coherent speech.
Yet despite the black cat’s alarm, the dragon-formed Dorothy didn’t immediately act. She did not fly into the Dreamscape to stop the Spider Queen from sucking at the Sacred Cocoon—she seemed to still be waiting for something.
In silent stillness, Dorothy turned her gaze toward two directions. One was the main venue atop World Plaza in East Tivian, not far off. The other was the distant heart of the mainland—Holy Mount’s location.
…
Time shifted slightly backward. Just as the fog enshrouding all of Tivian was finally dissipating, Gregor—who had been struggling to find his way—finally broke free from the confusion and raced toward the main venue of the eastern opening ceremony, following the guidance imprinted in his mind by “Scholar.”
At last, in a critical moment, Gregor—dressed in the uniform of the Serenity Bureau—arrived at the appointed location. There, he saw a vaguely familiar girl rushing toward the Crystal Palace. Without hesitation, he intercepted the enemy who was just about to strike her—someone he was supposed to protect.
That girl was none other than Isabelle, the most well-known princess in the Pritt Kingdom. Although Gregor had previously received intelligence suggesting that this princess might pose a threat when the station was first established, he was still shocked the moment they actually clashed.
The shock wasn’t just that Isabelle was indeed a pawn of an evil god—it was also her power. Gregor had heard she was a Beyonder of merely Apprentice rank, but once they began to fight, he realized she was anything but simple—not even close to what a typical Beyonder should be.
She fired off wind blades from range, turned into bats for evasive sneak attacks, split into illusionary clones to confuse the enemy… All sorts of abilities seemingly from different Beyonder paths had miraculously manifested in her simultaneously. And they were all nearly at the White Ash rank. Gregor had never encountered such an opponent before.
Wearing an expression of brutal coldness, Isabelle relentlessly launched attacks at Gregor. A barrage of swift and deadly techniques came at him all at once. From the very start of the battle, Gregor was completely suppressed, barely able to strike back.
Fortunately, Gregor himself was now a White Ash-rank Vampire with the power to turn into bats, enabling him to barely entangle this overwhelming foe for a short time. But it couldn’t last. During one of his transformations to escape, Isabelle seized an opportunity and wiped out half his swarm in one go—nearly killing him.
Just then, Dorothy had someone begin a ritual inside the chapel aboard the Twilight Devotion, using the Moon Crown to amplify Mirror Moon’s influence and significantly weaken the Spider Queen’s grip over Tivian.
The Moon Crown’s ritual did indeed affect Isabelle. However, unlike the other Pritt royals under the Spider Queen’s sway, Isabelle did not immediately break free. Instead, she began showing symptoms of intermittent headaches during the battle, as if struggling with some internal willpower conflict.
Apparently, the Queen’s corruption of Isabelle had run deeper than most royal family members—so deep that even with Mirror Moon’s restored influence in Tivian, she still couldn’t completely cast it off.
Still, although the ritual didn’t free Isabelle, it severely impacted her attacks. Her ability releases slowed considerably, easing the pressure on Gregor and giving him time to breathe after losing half his swarm.
After the ritual, Gregor was barely able to hold Isabelle off. But this reprieve didn’t last long—disaster soon struck again.
Some secret upheaval in the hidden inner realm caused the Spider Queen’s power to surge dramatically in the real world of Tivian. As a result, not only did Isabelle fully revert to her controlled state, but Gregor himself also suffered.
As the heavens turned crimson, millions across Tivian, lost in dream, began chanting the evil god’s name in unison. A searing pain, as if his skull had been split open, erupted in Gregor’s mind. Countless whispering voices rang in his ears. He felt his consciousness being pierced by a thousand needles.
The pollution from the Blood Shade’s source, now magnified by the Spider Queen’s power, had finally reached the mid-to-lower rank and even the White Ash rank…
“Wh—What… aaAAGGGHH!!!”
Clutching his head, Gregor instantly lost all combat ability and collapsed to the ground, letting out a scream of unbearable agony. On the other side, Isabelle recovered fully into her controlled state. Her eyes sharpened with killing intent as she stared down at the helpless Gregor.
With no resistance left, Isabelle gripped her court longsword and dashed toward the fallen Gregor, ready to finish him.
At that moment, another presence joined the battlefield.
Just as Isabelle lunged, countless soulflames ignited in midair. The surrounding temperature dropped, and the soulflames—guided by some unseen force—rushed straight into Isabelle’s body.
From above, Nephthys descended slowly—veiled, robed in white, adorned with gold. Having completed the observational task Dorothy had assigned her, she had hurried to the battlefield. And this—this was where help was most desperately needed!
Countless souls previously summoned by the rite surged to protect Gregor. As Isabelle approached, Nephthys directed them all to cling onto her. With numerous spirits clinging to her body, Isabelle’s movements were noticeably delayed. But in the next moment, she reversed her sword and slashed her own arm—using an attack on herself to strike at the souls inhabiting her. One by one, they shrieked and were forced out of her body.
Seeing Isabelle already on the verge of expelling all the souls from her body and regaining full mobility, Nephthys’s expression sharpened. With a wave of her hand, she timed it perfectly—at the very instant Isabelle expelled the last soul, Nephthys guided a new one directly into her. This time, Isabelle was unable to immediately force it out.
Standing frozen, eyes wide and body trembling slightly, Isabelle tried to use her spirit-imbued rapier to stab her own arm again in an attempt to expel the invading soul. Though the soul was clearly unstable under her resistance—threatening to dissipate at any moment—it still tenaciously clung on.
“Wake up… child… The House of Despenser… should no longer be used as a puppet by an evil god…”
Inside Isabelle, the soul murmured in a weary, ancient voice. It was the voice of Charles IV. The soul Nephthys had just summoned—was his.
“Get out… you useless old fool…”
Isabelle growled through gritted teeth, her tone evil and low. Supported by the Spider Queen, she was doing her utmost to expel the soul of the father she once revered. Charles IV’s soul, under such intense repulsion, wouldn’t last much longer.
But at that very moment, Nephthys made her next move. Facing the rapidly recovering Isabelle, her expression turned solemn. She took out a goblet adorned with skull motifs and released it before her. The goblet floated silently in midair—this was none other than the nation’s former divine artifact of Addus: the divine artifact of Silence, the Goblet of Nether Guidance.
“Please… lend me your strength, both of you.”
Staring at the floating chalice, Nephthys murmured with gravity. As her words fell, two translucent figures slowly manifested behind her. One was a general clad in the exotic armor of North Ufiga. The other—an old man wearing a feathered crown and the colorful ceremonial robes of the New Continent.
These two were the departed soul Rachman, once of Addus, and the spirit-shifted shaman Uta of the New Continent's Tupa tribe.
The two spirits surged forward behind Nephthys and merged into her body simultaneously. In response, the Goblet of Nether Guidance began to emit a strange radiance and spun rapidly with a subtle tremble. Mystical patterns resembling a magic array lit up across Nephthys’s body.
At that moment, Nephthys, using the goblet and the pre-prepared ritual from its former master Rachman, began overloading her own power. At the cost of damaging the Goblet of Nether Guidance, she forced a temporary breakthrough in her own limits—allowing her to draw near the Crimson rank.
“Dual-spirit possession… mutual fusion…”
As the goblet spun ever faster, an otherworldly glow filled Nephthys’s eyes. Through this temporary breakthrough, she simultaneously housed two different souls within her—melding their respective powers together.
Suddenly, Nephthys stepped forward in a powerful stride, coming face-to-face with the nearly unshackled Isabelle. She placed her hand on Isabelle’s shoulder, initiating direct contact, and spoke in a deep voice:
“Bloodline Necromancy… Summon the Ancestral Spirits!”
“Ugh—ah!”
In an instant, a vast and complex Silence ritual array burst forth beneath Isabelle’s feet. A torrent of spirituality erupted from it. Pale light flared from the array, accompanied by a dramatic drop in temperature that cast an eerie glow across the battlefield.
Under Isabelle’s stunned gaze, shadowy figures began emerging one after another from within the formation, floating all around. These ghostly apparitions bore varying faces but shared similarly regal robes, crowns, and majestic attire. A few wore ancient armor. At first bewildered, they surveyed the strange sky over Tivian and soon, their expressions turned gravely solemn.
These apparitions were none other than the past kings of the Hyacinth Dynasty of Pritt—the Secrecy Sovereigns of the Despenser line. By fusing Rachman’s bloodline power with Uta’s spirit-calling sorcery, Nephthys had created an amplified Bloodline Necromancy—and through Isabelle, she summoned forth all the ancient kings of Pritt.
In New Continent tribal legend, the Great Soul is the place where all souls are born and to which they ultimately return. After death, every soul descends into the Netherworld, gradually making their way back to the Great Soul. Once there, the soul is stripped of all memories, purified, and may one day be reborn.
Because of this cycle, souls of the long-deceased can theoretically no longer be summoned—their souls may have already reincarnated. However, memory shadows can.
Though all memories are erased in the Great Soul, they are not destroyed. Rather, they are stored. Exceptionally powerful necromantic rituals can extract those memories in the form of "spirit echoes"—phantom projections nearly indistinguishable from the person they were in life. These kings Nephthys summoned were such spirit echoes.
Of course, to ensure Nephthys could summon a large number of Pritt's past kings, Dorothy had Awakened Anna—now acting as Duke Protector—to bestow upon Nephthys the title of Historical Scribe of Pritt. This gave her a formal connection to Pritt's legal traditions. Dorothy also used her influence over the domain of Revelation to strengthen Nephthys’s claim and boost her summoning power.
Although the legal framework of Pritt seemed tainted, the domain of Revelation itself remained largely intact. This kind of pollution couldn’t spread as fast as the contamination of Beyonder abilities—unless something happened to the god of Revelation, the system would hold.
“O great kings of Pritt, you see it now—your ancient enemy has reached for the Throne of Wind. The evil god is gnawing at this kingdom. I beseech you to fulfill the duty history entrusted to you. Use the body of your descendant as a vessel—complete the ritual!”
With solemn eyes, Nephthys addressed the spectral kings drifting above the array. The leader—an armored monarch—looked around at the scene, then spoke with a questioning tone.
“From what I see, the Secrecy Ritual has already failed. The enemy has obtained the secret it sought. In such a case… does the ritual still have meaning?”
“It does, King Baldric. Please believe me. Even if the secret is known, the ritual still holds purpose. Use this body, and begin the rite. The temple is just ahead!”
With earnest expression, Nephthys appealed directly to King Baldric, the True Successor. He fell silent for a moment, then gently floated forward toward Isabelle. The other royal spirits soon followed, each successively entering Isabelle’s body.
At last, under the shared possession of the ancient kings, Isabelle slowly regained freedom from the Spider Queen’s control.
Then, in that moment of sacred possession, Isabelle fell into a brief silence. When it passed, she raised her head and gazed toward the distant Crystal Palace. Her eyes now glimmered with layered mystery and depth. When she finally spoke, her voice echoed with the blended tones of many souls.
“As the ancestral teachings command…”
…
Central Mainland, Summit of Holy Mount, Grand Cathedral of the Radiance Church.
While Nephthys was making contact with Isabelle in Tivian to carry out the bloodline necromancy ritual, inside the majestic Grand Cathedral atop Holy Mount, the two remaining Saints of the Radiance Church—Amanda and Kramar—were still stationed at their posts, monitoring the situation in distant Tivian.
Using the cathedral’s floor screen, capable of displaying real-time imagery from afar, Amanda and Kramar watched Tivian’s current condition. As they observed the dark red pall spreading over Tivian’s skies and felt the eerie, expanding aura of evil centering around it, both of their expressions turned grim.
At this point, it was unmistakably clear—the situation in Tivian had not improved. If anything, it was deteriorating rapidly.
“What’s going on? How could such a severe divine anomaly appear... Why is this happening? Haven’t the Paladins of Holy War arrived yet? What in the world happened!?”
Staring at the overhead map of Tivian on the screen and analyzing the extreme data anomalies, Kramar frowned deeply. Amanda, standing beside him, also wore a stern expression.
“The Paladins of Holy War… they may have encountered an accident in the Inner Realm. Something that’s disrupted even communications... In any case, it looks like they won’t make it to Tivian in time.”
“Tivian’s current divine-level anomaly… it’s far worse than we anticipated,” Amanda said with solemn weight in her voice.
The look in her eyes was filled with foreboding. She had realized the crisis unfolding in Tivian had surpassed all prior expectations.
“We need to dispatch more forces to Tivian! Now! We can’t go through the Inner Realm this time!” Kramar declared, while Amanda immediately countered.
“With the divine-level interference present in Tivian, anyone below Gold-rank would be useless—and sending them would just be throwing lives away!”
“So you're suggesting we just hand Pritt over to the evil god? And if the Holy See returns later—who’s going to bear that responsibility?”
Kramar retorted angrily. By Church decree, there must always be at least two Cardinals guarding Holy Mount at any time—meaning neither of them could leave. But if they also refused to dispatch lower-tier combatants, it would be tantamount to silently allowing the evil god to claim Pritt.
If there was even the slightest chance the Holy See might return, Kramar dared not abandon Pritt entirely. At the very least, they had to make a show of trying—sacrifice someone if necessary—to prove they had done everything they could. That way, they could justify that losing Pritt was unavoidable and mitigate the blame.
Amanda’s thinking, however, was much more straightforward. With divine interference of this scale, sending in Gold-rank or lower would be pure suicide. There was no point in needlessly adding to the casualties.
And so, the argument over whether or not to send reinforcements to Tivian began anew.
Just then, in a far corner of the cathedral, behind Amanda, a white-robed nun who had been kneeling in prayer suddenly opened her eyes—snapping out of her meditation as if sensing something critical.
It was Vania. She rose swiftly to her feet and rushed to the center of the Grand Cathedral, cutting directly between Amanda and Kramar to interrupt their argument.
“Huff… Lord Amanda, Lord Kramar! Please stop arguing! Hear me out—I have a way to resolve Pritt’s crisis!”
Panting slightly, Vania spoke loudly and firmly. Both Cardinals froze at the sound of her voice and turned to look at her in unison.
“You heretical nun! Why are you still here!? Get out! We haven’t even begun holding you accountable!”
Kramar snapped furiously. Amanda, by contrast, raised an eyebrow slightly and spoke directly.
“Vania… What is this method of yours?”
Ignoring Kramar, Vania met Amanda’s gaze and answered seriously.
“Please—let me operate the Sacred Staff. I will use it to dispel the crisis threatening Pritt!”
As she spoke, her eyes shifted toward the ornate whitewood staff still floating midair. Upon hearing this request, both cardinals reacted immediately—Kramar’s face twisted with fury, while Amanda furrowed her brow.
“You… want the Sacred Staff?! Hah! Delusional… As long as I’m here, you heretic won’t touch it—not even a finger! Don’t even think of using this crisis to pull some trick. I’ll be adding ‘attempted theft of divine armament’ to your charges!”
“I don’t believe a word you say!”
Kramar roared, jabbing a finger at her in accusation, leaving no room for negotiation.
Vania’s face darkened at his outburst. She turned her gaze back to Amanda, waiting for her reply.
Amanda remained silent, brow creased. Her expression gave no indication of support.
“Vania… You must understand, the Sacred Staff is a treasure left by the Holy See himself. It’s not something even we Cardinals can freely use.”
Amanda said slowly, her tone laced with implied refusal. Vania’s heart sank further.
“To wield the Sacred Staff requires a majority vote from the Cardinal Council—or, in emergencies, a provisional council vote. With only the two of us here, we cannot pass such a resolution according to Church law.”
Her expression stern, Amanda explained the rules to Vania. The more Vania listened, the more despair clouded her face. Yet she still pleaded once more.
“But Lord Amanda… in this situation, I must use the Sacred Staff…”
“By regulation, you cannot. No matter the urgency.”
Amanda replied coldly.
Vania’s eyes brimmed with hopelessness. Kramar, by contrast, relaxed into smug satisfaction, basking in his perceived victory.
“Hmph… So even the Redemption Cardinal sees through your lies. Good! I’m glad you’re not blindly shielding this heretic. Now arrest Vania—urg—!”
Kramar was just beginning to gloat, preparing to command Vania’s arrest—when suddenly, a blur flashed before his eyes. Without warning, Amanda had moved—rushing directly in front of him, her eyes glinting coldly.
Bang!
Before Kramar could react, a vicious impact struck his right cheek. Amanda’s body twisted with practiced precision as she delivered a powerful spinning kick to his face. The sheer force contorted his expression in shock, and his body was sent flying like a ragdoll.
Boom!
With a thunderous crash, Kramar’s body smashed through the cathedral’s massive doors and flew out into the distance, vanishing from view.
Amanda remained still, serene and dignified, watching the direction of his flight as though nothing had happened.
“Uhh…”
Vania stood frozen, wide-eyed. She was completely stunned—unable to process what had just happened. Never would she have imagined the composed and noble Amanda would suddenly attack—and not just anyone, but a fellow Cardinal.
“That brutal?!”
In utter disbelief, Vania stared blankly at the scene.
Amanda then turned toward her, speaking in a flat and even tone.
“By regulation, as long as Kramar was present, you’d never be allowed to use the Sacred Staff. So, I dealt with him.”
With that, Amanda stepped forward and vanished in an instant, chasing after the direction Kramar had flown.
Leaving Vania alone in the vast Grand Cathedral.
Amanda was well aware that the revelations Vania had received came from followers of “Revelation” within what seemed to be the Heaven’s Arbiter Sect. The first warning had already been issued—but the Cardinal Council had ignored it, which had led to the dramatic worsening of Pritt’s current situation. This alone proved how valuable the information was. Now, with a second message coming at such a dire juncture, Amanda believed it necessary to heed it—even if it meant using forceful measures that would bring severe consequences.
Watching Amanda leave, the stunned Vania suddenly snapped back to her senses. She murmured softly toward Amanda’s departing figure.
“Thank you… Your Excellency…”
With her quiet thanks spoken, Vania immediately rushed to the center of the cathedral. Suspended midair there was the divine armament of the Radiance Church—the Divine Staff of Radiant Decree, a holy treasure once belonging to the Pope.
After gazing at the staff for a few moments, Vania drew a deep breath, then reached out and grasped it.
In that instant, blinding radiance burst from the staff, and a swirling current of mysterious air surged through the cathedral, whipping Vania’s robes into a loud rustle.
Gripping the sacred staff, Vania felt herself entering an extraordinary state. Her perception expanded immeasurably—barriers melted away before her gaze, and she could peer far across the world. She could see the oarsman in far-off Adria, rowing his boat through a maze of canals. She could see gamblers placing wild bets in the casinos of Moncarlo. And she could also see the crisis unfolding in Tivian.
Had Vania reached a higher rank, she might have been able to see every corner of the world.
Even more wondrous was what she now perceived: from across the world, endless rivers of faith surged toward Holy Mount. Like vast, thundering streams, these torrents of belief gathered around the mountain’s peak and then surged upward toward the sky—toward a heavenly apex that could not be seen or comprehended.
Beyond this, Vania felt herself connected to the most brilliant celestial body in the sky: the sun. A link had formed between her and that blazing entity. From that impossibly distant point in the heavens, she sensed an overwhelming and boundless power—the might of the Sun itself.
Upon sensing its divine force, Vania was overcome with awe and terror. Even the faintest echo of that power, felt through the link, nearly made her release the staff out of fear.
The true nature of the Sacred Staff’s power was this: it could, to a degree, command the light of the sun upon this world. The purifying light that had earlier dispelled the bewildering fog in Tivian—that, too, had been sunlight guided down through this very staff.
“Such… overwhelming power…”
“Am I… truly capable of wielding something like this?”
Awestruck, Vania whispered as she communed with the sun. She then focused her will and, using the staff and the boundless faith gathered atop Holy Mount, bent a tiny thread of the sun’s light to her command—one sliver of brilliance among countless rays.
“O Sun Wheel… heed my invocation…”
Murmuring softly, Vania redirected the sunlight that shone upon Eastern Pritt.
“This is… surprisingly easier than expected…”
…
Above Tivian, the crimson storm had now reached full force. The entire city lay under a crimson sky, the Spider Queen’s influence rapidly intensifying. Her power was beginning to seep in more directly than ever.
Tivian was undergoing a transformation into an inner realm, and with her victory all but assured, the Spider Queen had no intention of sparing the forces that had repeatedly foiled her plans—especially Mirror Moon’s pawn.
Under the dark crimson sky, all manner of chaos emerged. Even space itself began to warp and destabilize. The Spider Queen now sought to drag the entire city, with its millions of citizens, into her domain—an act that would both humiliate the Radiance and serve as the foundation for rebuilding her worldly cult. It would also ensure the total eradication of any remaining resistance.
Howling winds surged beneath the crimson sky. Hundreds of dreamwalkers praised the evil god’s name in their dreams. Tivian had become an apocalypse.
“Ha! You’re all finished! This city is finished! This nation is finished! Praise my glorious Queen—you’ve finally succeeded!”
On the battlefield amidst the ruined cathedral district, the monsterized Gaskina laughed maniacally, swinging the many weapons held in her various arms as she intensified her assault on her opponent, Artcheli. Now empowered further by the Spider Queen’s growing influence, Gaskina had become almost unstoppable. Artcheli was barely holding on.
“Your end is here! Let me savor this final moment—pathetic fools toyed with by the Queen! Hahaha!!”
But just as Gaskina shrieked her insults, a sudden radiance flashed in the sky. A pure beam of light descended from the heavens—scattering the crimson storm in an instant. The skies over Tivian returned to clear blue and blazing sun. The scarlet veil vanished without a trace.
“Tch… Is this another trick from those Radiance zealots?”
“Hmph. If that’s all they’ve got, it won’t stop the Queen…”
Gaskina frowned, surprised for a moment, but then scoffed in disdain.
She knew the Radiance Church’s general state—without the Pope present, their long-range projection power had been severely weakened. So long as she didn’t provoke Holy Mount directly, there was little to worry about.
Or so she thought.
Just as Gaskina prepared to resume her attack, another change occurred in the sky.
From the once-clear blue heavens, the blazing sun—so dazzling just moments ago—began to dim. Controlled by some unknown force, its overwhelming light weakened visibly. Darkness slowly crept back over Tivian.
And then, with the waning of the sun’s light, something else emerged—something that had already been up there all along.
It was a perfect full moon—dim and hazy, hard to see clearly, yet unmistakably present in the sky.
The sight of that full, dusky moon made Gaskina’s expression twist into one of abject terror.
“What?! How can this be?! Why is there a moon in the sky right now?!”
Staring in horror, she couldn’t comprehend it. But far above, flying through the sky, Dorothy answered calmly in her heart.
“Because the moon… was always there. You simply couldn’t see it.”
Yes. The moon had never vanished. It had always been in the sky—just unseen.
Today was the Day of the New Moon—the time when the Mirror Moon Goddess’s influence was at its weakest. The reason? On this day, the moon is invisible from start to finish.
But the truth was, the moon had not disappeared at all. It had simply risen during the day, alongside the sun. Its light had been drowned out by the sun’s brilliance—rendering it unseen.
Now, however, the sun’s radiance had been dimmed—and so the moon once more revealed itself in the sky, and not just any moon: a full New Moon.
Far away on Holy Mount, Vania had used the Divine Staff of Radiant Decree to redirect the sunlight that bathed Eastern Pritt—scattering it elsewhere. With the sun’s glow dimmed, the previously invisible New Moon emerged high in the sky.
The New Moon is one of the lunar phases—present, yet unseen. Back in Glamorne, Dorothy had used a New Moon Gate—one that only opened during the day—to travel to the Temple of Mirror Moon.
After the New Moon phase appeared in the sky, Vania—within the Grand Cathedral atop Holy Mount—resumed her manipulation of the region's sunlight. She began adjusting the angles of light refraction, causing rays that would have illuminated the land to instead reflect outward into space, directing them onto the moon’s surface. Bathed in redirected sunlight, the previously dim lunar disc suddenly grew dazzlingly bright—even more radiant than during a normal full moon.
In that moment, the full moon rose high above Pritt’s firmament, and its silvery light began to pour down evenly over every part of the vast city.
"The moment has come… the ritual begins…"
In the World Plaza of Eastern Tivian, beneath the grand dome of the Crystal Palace, in front of a complex ritual array, Princess Isabelle of Pritt now stood with a focused expression, gazing up at the moonlight refracted through the glass ceiling, and murmured those words. Her voice carried the echoes of many others.
Then, possessed by the spirits of countless former kings, Isabelle withdrew her gaze and bowed respectfully toward the opposite end of the array. There, on the other side of the formation, a delicate chair had been placed—and upon it sat a petite girl with silvery white hair and porcelain skin, as exquisitely lovely as a doll. She appeared to be in serene slumber, eyes closed, unmoving.
After offering her bow, Isabelle stepped silently to the center of the formation. Drawing the sword at her side, she pierced it into the array and dropped to one knee, bowing her head before the sleeping girl.
Then, within Isabelle's body, the kings of Pritt’s past—the Secrecy Sovereigns—joined her in unison, and together they began to chant. In perfect harmony, they recited the sacred rite they had passed down through generations:
"O Keeper of all Secrets… Maiden of Mysteries… Queen of the Night Sky… We, the Lords of Britton… have come as promised… to offer our prayer unto Thee…"
The Secrecy Ritual passed down through Pritt’s royal line consisted of two phases.
First, to amplify the Mirror Moon Goddess’s influence, and guide Her power into the world. Then, to use that power to guard and preserve secrets.
Though the secrets had already been stolen by the Spider Queen, that did not render the entire ritual meaningless. At the very least… the first phase—the power-guiding invocation—could still be enacted.
Under the collective will of the ancestral monarchs, the Crystal Palace’s ritual was successfully restarted—and at the perfect moment. What’s more, they had a true idol—better than any statue of the Mirror Moon Goddess—as the focal point of their devotion.
The impact of this ritual was immense. Just as it began, the Spider Queen—busy absorbing the Wind King’s legacy and the Dream Lord’s divinity—sensed something was wrong. She immediately deployed her full influence to directly interfere with the physical realm.
Suddenly, the sky above the Crystal Palace shattered like glass. From the broken rift in the heavens, massive crimson spikes, each hundreds of meters long, shot forth—hurtling toward the Crystal Palace at deadly speed, intending to obliterate it entirely.
At that moment, a dragon’s roar rang out.
A massive dragon soared into the sky above the Crystal Palace and placed itself directly between the palace and the oncoming spikes.
Yet despite its imposing size, the dragon still seemed small compared to the divine crimson spikes. These god-infused weapons were far beyond the dragon’s ability to resist.
But resisting them wasn’t the dragon’s goal.
Facing the descending spikes, the dragon opened its maw and let out an ancient roar.
“—TIID—”
The word of power echoed from her throat, resonating with primal runes that shook the very fabric of space. With that ancient sound, the dragon commanded time itself to slow its endless torrent.
And so, the flow of time before the dragon slowed… and with it, the deadly spikes’ momentum faltered. No longer did they strike the Crystal Palace within the time they were meant to.
Meanwhile, inside the Crystal Palace, the Secrecy Sovereigns—through their coordinated chant—had completed the essential portion of the ritual. The massive array beneath them glowed with soft light, resonating with the radiance of the New Moon in the sky.
At last…
With the Moon Crown Ritual aboard the Twilight Devotion ;
With the resonance of the Secret-Keeping Rite;
With the full New Moon's blessing;
With the support of Pritt’s royal ancestors;
and with the presence of a true idol as witness—
The moon’s divine power, from a distant realm, was finally guided into the Pritt Kingdom.
The divinity of the night sky descended like moonlight upon the city.
Just as the massive crimson spikes began to move again—resuming their path toward the Crystal Palace and the dragon defending it—
A brilliant silver beam of moonlight poured down from the full New Moon.
This wide, tranquil ray struck the dragon directly—bathing her completely in moon-given light.
Bathed in that divine silver, the dragon underwent a miraculous transformation.
Her once-rugged, stone-like scales turned crystaline, tightly arranged like gem facets, shining with a silvery luster that gleamed like metal. Her body expanded rapidly, growing from seventy meters to over three hundred meters—a true titanic form.
Her strong, robust frame became elegant and slender. Her former wing-hands became true wings. A proper pair of draconic forelimbs emerged. From biped to quadruped she transformed.
The jagged spikes along her back became crystal formations. Her tail lengthened. The horns atop her head expanded outward like branching trees. Her once-rough head grew soft and refined.
This entire transformation feminized her form, shedding the wild, primal essence of before. In its place was elegance, grace, and beauty.
Finally, behind the silver dragon, a circular halo—radiant with divine moonlight—manifested, hovering in the air.
Thus, under the New Moon, the Dragon Goddess of the Night Sky had descended.