“The First Epoch…”
In the study on the second floor of House No. 17 in Green Shade Town, north of Tivian, Dorothy, dressed in a light and comfortable set of loungewear, sat at her desk, reading the contents of a mystical text placed on the tabletop with great interest.
“A mystical text about the First Epoch…? Rare indeed. Here in the Fourth Epoch, even records from the Second Epoch are scarce. And now, a mystical text detailing the First Epoch—it’s truly a rare find…”
Dorothy mused internally. Since arriving in this world, she had read countless mystical texts. Mentions of the First Epoch were often no more than brief passing references buried within accounts related to the mysticism world. But this one before her was the only one she had ever encountered that focused exclusively on the First Epoch as its subject. Her curiosity fully piqued, she began reading in earnest.
The mystical text was written by an archaeologist of the Third Epoch Empire. It was, in essence, an archaeological journal. According to its records, the author and their team had excavated ancient ruins located on an island in the center of what is now the Conquest Sea. The structure of the ruins astonished the entire team.
The mystical text described how the author had witnessed towering porticos and broken columns—remnants tens of meters high—standing on the island. While clearing debris from the ruins, they discovered multi-meter-tall tiered steps that evoked astonishment. Every trace of civilization unearthed was many times larger than the norm. Compared to ruins attributed to other non-human races from the Second Epoch, these remains were vastly different—quite possibly relics of the legendary giant race believed to exist only in the First Epoch.
According to the author’s account, the Third Epoch’s understanding of the First Epoch largely stemmed from archaeological findings related to the Second Epoch. It was through records from the Second Epoch that they even became aware the First Epoch had existed. Yet beyond that awareness, knowledge of the First Epoch was extremely limited.
Due to the lack of credible ruins, many historians of the Third Epoch Empire generally believed the First Epoch had no real civilization, regarding it instead as a time of savagery before the emergence of culture among the Second Epoch’s races. For a long time, historians referred to the First Epoch as the “Barbaric Epoch.” Some extreme scholars even denied its existence altogether, claiming it was merely a fabrication or mythological error stemming from the Second Epoch. The authenticity of the First Epoch remained a matter of academic debate—until this island excavation.
Upon confirming that the ruins likely belonged to the First Epoch and possibly to the giant race of legend, the author’s excitement was evident throughout the mystical text. For generations, the people of the Third Epoch had assumed the First Epoch was devoid of civilization—or that what existed was primitive and savage. But judging by the craftsmanship of the giant ruins, the ancient giant civilization, though crude and bold in style, was by no means lacking in sophistication.
The bulk of the mystical text consisted of documentation of the ruins’ appearance, speculations about the functions of various zones, artistic studies, and proposed reconstructions of their original forms. These didn’t interest Dorothy as much. What drew her attention was the section on the giants’ beliefs.
According to the text, the archaeological team had discovered, at the center of the ruins, a vast open plaza—measuring over a thousand meters in both length and width. If any structure had once stood there, it would have been the largest and grandest in the entire complex. In the very center of this space, they found three colossal, partially destroyed stone pillars—each with a diameter of twenty to thirty meters. These pillars resembled totem poles and were carved in bas-relief with what appeared to be three divine figures.
The author and their team speculated that these figures might represent the deities worshipped by the giants. As the First Epoch was still considered a barbaric era by most Third Epoch scholars at the time, the team provisionally referred to these figures as the “Primeval Gods.” The author included illustrations of the three reliefs.
The first drawing depicted a sphere. Upon its surface were representations of oceans and landmasses—what appeared to Dorothy to be a planet. Inside this “planet,” a cross-sectional cut showed a curled-up embryo-like form, giving the impression of a hatching egg, with the planet’s surface acting as the eggshell or crust.
The second drawing also featured a sphere, but unlike the abstract planet in the first, this one more clearly represented the sun. It bore a clear circular shape with radiating rays—much like classic solar totems in sun-worshiping cultures. However, what stood out was that the interior of the “sun” had been entirely blackened—unlike typical depictions where the center is left bright to signify radiance. Around the darkened sun was a ring of unshaded space—like a glowing ring encircling darkness. To Dorothy, it resembled not a sun, but rather a solar eclipse—the only time the sun’s center would appear black.
The third illustration was far more abstract, consisting of intricate geometric forms that were difficult to interpret. Among the three, this one was the most complex and least easily described in words. Like the others, it was circular in layout, resembling patterns seen in a kaleidoscope—countless lines radiating outward from a central point, layered upon one another. Though densely interwoven, the pattern conveyed a strange sense of order and symmetry rather than visual chaos.
Despite its complexity, Dorothy immediately realized the pattern had been drawn with a single line. Though it looked like many, there was only one continuous stroke that traced the entire image from beginning to end. Starting from the center, it spiraled outward before looping back in and ultimately returning to the origin—its head and tail joining seamlessly.
Because of its complexity, prolonged viewing of the design could produce optical illusions. Sometimes it resembled a “path,” as if one could journey infinitely toward the central point. At other times, it seemed like an “eye” staring back at the viewer—only to slowly close again once the observer focused too long.
These three images were now laid out before Dorothy. As she sipped her hot coffee from the desk, she examined them with intense curiosity, memorizing every detail. Then, she turned the page, eager to read what came next. She was especially curious whether the giants had left any written records explaining the significance of these totems. But according to the text, the archaeological team found no signs of writing anywhere in the ruins—so no such annotations existed.
Dorothy continued reading. Near the end of the mystical text, she found a number of speculations made by the author regarding the giants' ruins—from their way of life to their social structure. But in Dorothy's view, most of these ideas were far-fetched and lacked solid supporting evidence, making them rather unreliable. Except for one particular theory…
The author and their team had surveyed the entire island and discovered that many of the ancient structures extended all the way to the island’s edge, where they abruptly ended at sheer cliff faces. Tall, intact walls were suddenly cut off—almost as if the remaining parts had been swallowed by the sea. Many roads also stretched to the island’s edge before vanishing, and no traces of ports or harbors could be found anywhere on the island.
Because of this, the author speculated that the ruins on the island were likely only a fragment of a much larger giant settlement—perhaps once a city. The rest of it may have collapsed into the sea along with the land. The island that remained was likely just a surviving remnant.
Given the immense size of individual giants, the amount of land required to sustain even a single one would be far greater than that for a human. Their living spaces would also need to be far more expansive. Thus, the scale of a giant settlement could be imagined to be vast. Based on the architecture found on the island, the author concluded that the region where the ruins were located—now ocean—may have been a broad expanse of land during the First Epoch. Just how vast that land had been was unclear, but it would certainly not have been smaller than the major islands known in that era. And now, all of it had sunk beneath the sea, leaving only this desolate islet behind.
At the end of the mystical text, the author stated their intention to begin surveying the surrounding seabed, hoping to discover more. But the text ended abruptly after that, and Dorothy had no way of knowing whether the Third Epoch archaeological team had made any further discoveries. She simply closed the book and let out a quiet, drawn-out sigh.
“Whew… The First Epoch’s giant civilization… and the so-called Primeval Gods they worshipped? How fascinating…”
Leaning back in her chair, Dorothy absentmindedly stroked her chin, murmuring with great interest. Her mind was already teeming with countless thoughts.
“Judging from what we know so far, it seems both dragons and giants existed in the First Epoch. The dragons’ situation is still unclear, but the giants appear to have possessed a certain level of civilization… and even religion.
“More importantly, those three totemic symbols… they seem to bear a very close connection to the gods of today…”
Dorothy contemplated deeply. The three symbols described in the mystical text immediately reminded her of the Six Mystical Domains symbolized by the six apex deities. She couldn’t help but form a highly plausible theory.
“There really is a strong possibility… but I still lack the evidence.”
Dorothy whispered to herself, then turned her attention to another intriguing point mentioned in the mystical text.
“According to the author's speculation, the giants’ kingdom may have sunk entirely into the sea. The island with the ruins was found in the Conquest Sea—which lies between the main continent and the continent of Ufiga. Does that mean that, during the First Epoch, there was once a vast stretch of land between those two continents?
“Was it a massive landmass now submerged beneath the ocean—something akin to Pritt? Or perhaps…”
Dorothy mulled over these thoughts for a short while, but with no other leads to follow, she quickly returned her focus to the mystical text.
After finishing the archaeological mystical text from the Third Epoch Empire, Dorothy moved on to read more of the other mystical texts that Artcheli had sent her.
As requested, these texts were quite varied in type, covering all sorts of spiritualities, but most were disorganized and—at least to Dorothy’s eyes today—held little value. None of them captured her attention, until she came across an envelope tucked among them.
Staring at the envelope, Dorothy grew curious. After pressing it lightly a couple times in her hand, she could tell it contained a few sheets of thick, parchment-like paper. There were no markings on the envelope—no text or labels to provide a clue.
After checking it over again, she went ahead and tore it open, reaching inside. The first thing she pulled out was a sheet of writing paper. Upon unfolding it, she found a few neatly written lines of tiny characters—and to her surprise, it was from Artcheli.
…
This is the only piece of text I could find on Hyperion in the Historical Scripture Department. It was located in the Grand Scripture Archive, in the deepest corridor of the Forbidden Scripture Vault—technically a place where only the Holy See is allowed to read.
In the current state of the Church, I’m the only one who could enter that area without authorization and return without leaving a trace. But even I couldn’t bring back more than this.
I didn’t dare read any of the book except for the title. This is the only one that contained anything related to Hyperion.
Read it quickly and send it back—I need to return it immediately.
…
Sitting at her desk, Dorothy stared at the note Artcheli had left her, momentarily stunned. When she finally came to, she shook her head slightly and sighed inwardly.
“A forbidden text among forbidden texts… The kind only the Pope is allowed to read. Even cardinals don’t have clearance. And yet Artcheli actually took the risk to bring this to me…”
Dorothy hadn’t expected that Artcheli, despite being the Cardinal of Secrets, would go so far as to take such a risk just to find something for her. With her authority, Artcheli could’ve accessed many restricted texts within the Historical Scripture Department without issue. But to dare touch a mystical text reserved solely for the Pope—that was something Dorothy hadn’t imagined. She didn’t think her relationship with Artcheli was anywhere near close enough to warrant such a favor.
For a moment, Dorothy was genuinely shocked by Artcheli’s willingness to risk herself for this. But on second thought, perhaps Artcheli didn’t need to worry too much after all. She was carrying out the will of Mirror Moon—a divine oracle. Mirror Moon was not only the Church’s saintess but also a deity. Compared to the Pope, a god naturally held more authority. Backed by a divine oracle, Artcheli wasn’t obliged to blindly follow the Pope’s directives.
It was entirely possible that Mirror Moon had granted Artcheli some form of proof of the divine oracle—something she could present in emergencies. With Mirror Moon behind her, she didn’t have to fear the Pope’s wrath—at most, she just had to avoid giving other Saints or Cardinals the wrong impression.
“Having divine backing really is convenient…”
Dorothy chuckled softly as she sighed. Then, she placed the note to the side, extended her gloved hand, and carefully reached into the envelope again to retrieve what else lay inside. At that moment, she was filled with anticipation for information regarding Hyperion.
Sure enough, what she drew out was an aged and yellowed piece of parchment. Carefully, Dorothy laid it on the desk mat and began examining it closely. She quickly realized that this mystical text was not a written manuscript… but a picture.
On this piece of ancient parchment, a man was depicted—handsome of face and strong of build. His long hair flowed behind him, and his bare upper torso revealed a body as flawlessly sculpted as marble. Every muscle was densely packed yet well-proportioned—robust, agile, without a hint of bloat. A simple cloth skirt was wrapped around his lower half.
The man’s features were noble and symmetrical, utterly calm and emotionless—radiating the aloof brilliance of divinity. He stood upright, arms crossed before his chest. In one hand, he held an ornate scepter; in the other, a curved scimitar. To his left was the symbol of the sun. To his right, the symbol of a crescent moon. And above his head hung a solar disc—its center blackened, its outer ring left white.
At the bottom corner of the image was a handwritten Imperial text. Dorothy, now fluent in the Imperial language, quickly translated it.
"Emperor of Light — Hyperion"
The phrase "Emperor of Light" had been struck through with a line. Beneath it, another word was added in the same handwriting. After a careful look, Dorothy understood it:
"Dark Sun"
Alone in her study, Dorothy gazed silently at the parchment illustration for a long time. Her eyes studied every detail before she finally sighed.
“Whew… I didn’t expect there to be a second piece like this.”
She spoke with a tone of marvel—because she had indeed seen a similar artwork once before. Back during the Addus incident, after her battle with Muhtar of the Savior’s Advent Sect, Dorothy had recovered a drawing from his person that shared a striking resemblance in style.
That drawing, reportedly taken by Muhtar from one of the Savior’s Advent Sect’s hidden bases, featured a man who looked exactly like the one in this parchment. They were, without doubt, the same individual.
However, there were differences between the two images. In Muhtar’s version, though the man also held a scepter and a curved blade, his arms were spread wide. He was flanked by two children—one boy and one girl. In contrast, this church-owned parchment had replaced the children with the more symbolic sun and moon.
And most striking of all: in Muhtar’s version, the sun above the figure’s head was depicted normally. But in the parchment, it had become a black sun—its core darkened, ringed by light. This symbol was nearly identical to one of the three totemic emblems associated with the giants’ faith as recorded in the First Epoch archaeological text Dorothy had read earlier.
“This is… truly fascinating…”
Dorothy marveled inwardly, comparing the image on the parchment with the one she remembered. Then she began analyzing the implications.
“So… this figure is Hyperion? The artwork in Muhtar’s possession from the Savior’s Advent Sect, and this one deep within the Church’s Historical Scripture Department—they both portray the same person?”
“Emperor of Light… So that was Hyperion’s title? He is the King of Light? Hyperion was the founder of the Third Epoch Empire? And after founding the empire, he changed his title from King of Light to Emperor of Light?”
Dorothy pondered. If the messages conveyed by both images were accurate, then it was nearly certain that “Hyperion” was the true name of the King of Light.
“Fascinating… truly fascinating…
“The name hinted at by Mirror Moon’s oracle was indeed King of Light… So is he the key to the riddle Mirror Moon spoke of?”
Intent on uncovering more, Dorothy examined the artwork in even finer detail.
“The King of Light, by all accounts, should be the Lord of Lantern in the Third Epoch. So why do both paintings contain elements associated with Shadow? In the Savior’s Advent painting, Hyperion held the curved blade and stood beside a girl. In the Church’s version, those elements are replaced by direct representations of sun and moon—and the sun above has become the black sun…
“What does that imply? Do these two paintings represent different time periods? Why is that black sun so similar to one of the three totemic symbols worshipped by the First Epoch giants? According to the note beneath… it’s labeled ‘Dark Sun’?
“And then… if Hyperion was indeed the emperor of the Third Epoch Empire—as the Emperor of Light, a divine emperor—he should have ruled eternally… Yet historical signs suggest he vanished. His empire eventually entered a dual-emperor era before collapsing entirely. What happened? What befell Hyperion? Is he still… present? And what’s his relationship with the current Radiant Savior?”
Dorothy’s mind swirled with high-probability hypotheses. Yet, for now, they remained only theories—lacking solid evidence, she refrained from drawing any firm conclusions.
“Truly, I’m curious… In the secret Mirror Moon has kept regarding me, what role do you play… Emperor of Light…?”
She scratched her head, lost in thought, then resumed examining the parchment more carefully. She intended to fully inspect it before sealing it back away.
Upon turning the parchment over, Dorothy suddenly found that the reverse side contained more content—an unexpected discovery. Flipping it carefully onto the table, she found a map drawn on the back—though it wasn’t immediately clear where it depicted. Something about it looked vaguely familiar.
Staring at the map, she began combing through her memories. Soon enough, she recalled where she’d seen it before.
It was included in Muhtar’s version of the Hyperion portrait. Unlike modern Fourth Epoch maps, the one attached to that older drawing depicted a significantly larger landmass to the east of the main continent—almost a third more territory. The map on the back of this parchment mirrored that additional eastern land almost exactly.
So this was a map of the eastern part of the main continent—a region that existed during the Third Epoch, but may have vanished in the Fourth. That region, now known as the Wistful Sea, was suspected to be where Mirror Moon’s Nation of Night resided.
On this map, someone had marked a specific location with a pen. Below the marker was a brief annotation, written in the same handwriting as the front of the parchment:
"Solar Eclipse… Ritual Site…"
Dorothy furrowed her brows as she pondered the meaning.
“Solar Eclipse… Ritual Site? Does that mean this place experiences eclipses at specific times, and rituals are held there? What kind of ritual? And how is it connected to Hyperion?
“Was there once a ritual held in the eastern part of the Third Epoch’s empire? If so, did it succeed?”
Dorothy continued to speculate, all while examining the parchment for more clues. But after carefully scouring it, she found nothing further. Reluctantly, she put the parchment away, handling it with great care.
Afterward, she rubbed her temples and gathered her thoughts before returning to the last of the mystical texts. There weren’t many left now. Dorothy was nearly done when she found the final one that truly piqued her interest—and her eyes lit up the moment she read its contents.
This mystical text contained a record of the Crimson-rank advancement ritual for the Body Possession Path—within the Silence domain! The reason the Church had such knowledge was simple: this text was part of an interrogation record—specifically, the interrogation of Garib, the former leader of the Corpse-Sand Society!
That’s right—during the Phantom Thief incident in Adria, due to the maneuvering of Dorothy and Nephthys, Garib was captured on the spot by Archbishop Antonio of Ivengard. He was later sent to Holy Mount for trial. Under the scrutiny of the Inquisition, even as a Crimson-rank Beyonder, Garib cracked quickly and confessed to everything—including, naturally, the Crimson-rank ritual for the Body Possession Path.
After the interrogation, the Church compiled the ritual into a mystical text and archived it in the Historical Scripture Department. Now, thanks to Artcheli’s selections, that very document had made its way to Dorothy—allowing her, over a year later, to once again read about an old enemy.
“Ah… what a coincidence…”
Dorothy smiled as she recalled the stormy days in Adria. Time had flown—it had already been over a year.
“Never thought Mr. Garib would still be of use to me… Hope prison life’s treating him well. Then again, for Crimson-rank Beyonders, the Church probably has some form of ‘reuse’ policy, right? Otherwise, what a waste. Wonder what that policy looks like in practice…”
She mused as she began reading the text in earnest, studying the Body Possession Path’s Crimson-rank ritual.
The ritual was divided into three main steps.
First, a superior spiritual field was required—far exceeding the quality needed for White Ash-rank rituals. The ritual site had to be at temple-grade quality. Within this field, the ascendant had to resonate with a powerful Crimson-rank spiritual entity.
Second, the ascendant had to be able to host 1,000 ordinary souls within their body, and completely subdue them, maintaining full physical control and coordination.
Third, the ascendant’s soul would then be exiled into the depths of the Nether Realm via a special method—severing it from the body. From there, they had to return to their body relying only on a faint residual connection. This was the most dangerous step: the soul could become lost or encounter powerful entities within the Nether, never to return.
“So this is the ritual for Body Possession Path’s Crimson-rank advancement… Three steps—and none of them easy. It sounds just as hard as Adèle’s ritual…
“But still, we’ve finally uncovered Neph’s ritual. Now that we know the procedure, we can figure the rest out step by step. There are always more solutions than problems…”
Looking at the mystical text on her desk, Dorothy’s thoughts turned tactical.
“The Crimson-rank spiritual entity? We’ve already got Rachman. A temple-grade spiritual field? There are sites like that on the New Continent—probably the ones used for Wild Rituals. Maybe we can borrow one through Uta?
“As for the thousand souls… spirit communion with the Nether Realm should help acquire them quickly. The tricky part will be helping Neph suppress that many minds—that’ll require serious research. As for returning from the Nether… that step sounds seriously dangerous. If we can’t ensure safety, Neph might not even agree to attempt the ritual…”
After analyzing everything, Dorothy concluded that Nephthys would likely need to travel to the New Continent. She would have to contact Kapak and Uta soon to coordinate the details.
Finally, after finishing all the mystical texts, Dorothy let out a long, satisfied breath and stretched her arms wide in her chair.
“Oooh~~ Finally done… First time I’ve read this many in one sitting…”
Lowering her arms, she began massaging her shoulders while extracting spirituality.
This batch of mystical texts was vast in both quantity and quality. Dorothy had extracted a tremendous amount of spirituality—bringing each type to at least 30 points, with Revelation maxed out and Shadow exceeding 40. It was the richest her spiritual reserves had ever been in her mystical career.
“Having divine backing really is nice… I feel like I’ll never have to worry about spirituality again.”
Dorothy chuckled to herself as she finished massaging her shoulders. She hadn’t used all the texts purely for spirituality extraction, though. Language-related texts—like those in Imperial—she’d exchanged for knowledge from other worlds. Not only had she completed all three segments of Slow Time Dragon Shout, but she also learned other Dragon Shouts and plenty of additional knowledge.
In short, this session had been a massive success.
“Time to prepare to return all these mystical texts. Hopefully Artcheli’s second batch comes soon.”
Rising from her chair, Dorothy thought this to herself—though she knew well that Artcheli had other matters to handle. The next batch likely wouldn’t arrive so quickly.
…
Central Plains of the Main Continent — Heart of the Church-Protecting Nations — Holy Mount.
At the summit of Holy Mount, which rose into the clouds like a heavenly pillar, the Great Cathedral of Holy Mount exuded an imposing magnificence. Inside its Grand Chapel, a solemn atmosphere blanketed the space. Of the chapel’s seven exclusive seats, six were now occupied—the only one left empty, as always, was the central throne before the altar, reserved for the Pope.
The six Cardinals of the Cardinal Council were all seated in their designated places. A sense of weight hung in the air, and each cardinal’s expression was grim. At the center of them all knelt a lone figure—Vania, dressed in a white nun’s habit.
Vania knelt silently in a prayerful posture before the altar. On either side, the gazes of the seated cardinals bore down upon her. Their eyes held suspicion, solemnity, curiosity, severity… and anger. That anger came from Inquisition Cardinal Kramar.
“Sister Vania Chafferon… Do you admit your guilt?”
Kramar stared at her coldly, his voice tense, as though barely restraining his fury. Kneeling on the ground, Vania replied in a quiet, composed tone.
“Esteemed Inquisition Cardinal, I do not recall having committed any sin…”
“Hmph. Openly colluding with heretics, misusing the Sacred Staff, flouting church law… and you dare claim innocence?”
Kramar scoffed, cutting in harshly. But before Vania could respond, Cardinal Amanda, seated opposite, spoke calmly.
“I must correct you, Inquisition Cardinal. As of now, the so-called Rose Cross Order—or rather, the ‘Heaven’s Arbiter Sect’—has not demonstrated any definitive traits of heresy. Defining them as ‘heterodox’ would be more accurate. Compared to cults like the Afterbirth of Nether Coffin, their nature is more akin to the Craftsmen’s Guild.”
Amanda’s words were directed firmly at Kramar. The latter, sneering, fired back without hesitation.
“The Craftsmen’s Guild? Ha. They don’t go around influencing Church personnel or developing covert informants within the clergy. If that’s not heresy, what is?
“And you, Redemption Cardinal—best keep your mouth shut today. Everyone can see just how blindly you favor this guilty nun. Your words hold no weight. And given your current standing, you have no right to defend her!”
Kramar’s voice grew more severe. Touching his cheek with one hand, he spoke again, this time with more overt bitterness.
“You attacked another cardinal. You openly defied the Papal Decree governing cardinal conduct. That makes you guilty too! Though I lack the authority to judge you in the Pope’s absence, according to pre-established cardinal regulations, you are currently stripped of most voting rights in this Council. The very fact that you’re even allowed to sit here is already a display of great leniency!”
Amanda merely snorted in response and turned her gaze away. Though the Pope was absent, the Cardinal Council still operated under papally decreed rules. Certain punishments, including temporary power suspensions, could be enforced without direct papal intervention. Amanda’s assault on Kramar had triggered one such clause—thus, while she retained her title, she could not participate in this vote regarding Vania’s judgment. The other five cardinals would make the decision without her.
Having dealt with Amanda, Kramar redirected his attention to Vania and resumed his interrogation.
“Now, I ask you once again, Sister Vania—do you admit guilt?”
“Then I shall once again reaffirm to Your Eminence, Inquisition Cardinal—I do not believe I am guilty of any sin.”
Looking directly at Kramar, Vania spoke with unwavering conviction. As Kramar’s expression darkened, she continued swiftly.
“Lord Kramar, everything I have done—including collaborating with heterodox individuals—was for the benefit of the Holy Church and its countless believers. I have not committed anything contrary to the Lord’s teachings. My cooperation with outsiders saved countless innocent lives. How can that be a crime?”
Her tone was earnest, her expression sincere. But Kramar responded coldly.
“Do not muddy the issue. We are not discussing salvation or scripture. It doesn’t matter if you threatened the Church or saved a thousand strangers—secretly communicating with a heretical group is a serious violation of ecclesiastical law. And attempting to obtain the Sacred Staff at their instigation only adds to your crimes!”
His tone was absolute. But Vania remained unmoved. Glancing around at the other cardinals, she spoke with composure.
“Secret dealings with heretics… it’s true that such actions go against Church law. But, esteemed cardinals, you may not know—the reason for all of this was due to a Revelation. I acted under a command bestowed upon me by the ‘Lord.’ And before divine will, no Church regulation should serve as obstacle or restraint, should it?”
The moment Vania finished speaking, the entire chamber stirred. Some cardinals raised their brows in surprise, others grew visibly tense. Kramar froze for a second—then burst into laughter.
“Hah! Do you even know what you’re saying, Vania Chafferon? A Revelation? A divine message? No one in this Church, save the Pope, is permitted to receive divine revelations! You dare bypass the Pope and claim to have heard the Lord’s voice? That is blasphemy through false prophecy—a heinous crime!”
Kramar’s excitement was palpable—he seemed thrilled to be able to charge her with something so severe. After all, falsely proclaiming a divine oracle was one of the most egregious offenses within the Radiance Church, punished with the most brutal penalties.
The rest of the cardinals reacted with alarm. As Kramar moved to formally record this accusation, Vania interrupted again.
“The Inquisition Cardinal is correct—the ‘Lord’ does not bestow Revelations upon anyone outside the Pope. But when I speak of ‘the Lord’ here, I refer specifically to the Three Saints—the Holy Mother, the Holy Son, and the Holy Father—and the Savior.
“However, the Revelation I received did not come from them. It came from the Saintess. And nowhere in Church law is it explicitly written that the Saintess cannot grant divine oracles to individuals outside the Pope’s authority.”
“What? The Saintess?!”
Several cardinals exclaimed in surprise. Even Kramar narrowed his eyes in disbelief. Official doctrine made no mention of the Saintess—her existence was a closely held secret, known only to the Court of Secrets and permitted by papal silence. Thus, the Church’s legal framework never accounted for her in the same way it did the Three Saints.
“Tch… You dare speak of the Saintess? Don’t be absurd. The Saintess is a figure of belief known only within the Court of Secrets—you are not a member. There’s no record of the Saintess ever issuing a Revelation. Even if she had—how would that reach someone like you? You are not part of the Court of Secrets. Cease this nonsense!”
Kramar snapped sternly, but Vania, after a brief pause, replied serenely.
“I am not speaking nonsense, Inquisition Cardinal. The Saintess’s Revelation was truly granted to me. If you don’t believe me, you may consult the Secrets Cardinal herself. She too has received divine messages from the Saintess and can verify the truth.”
Vania’s calm reply made Kramar’s expression tighten. He quickly turned toward the petite black-haired figure seated among the cardinals—Artcheli, and demanded:
“Secrets Cardinal, now the accused nun drags you into her delusions?”
Kramar glared at Artcheli. She, adorned in her ornate cardinal’s robes, glanced briefly at Vania, then at Kramar—who was clearly hoping she’d deny everything. But instead, she spoke softly.
“Apologies, Inquisition Cardinal. What Sister Vania has said is not false. A few days ago, during battle against an evil god, I personally felt the Saintess’s grace in a moment of crisis. I was gifted with divinity, and in the moment of victory against the evil god’s minions, I—within the spirit realm—received my first Revelation from the Saintess.
“And what she said… was that Sister Vania is one of the rare, noble, and pure individuals in the Church today. Many of her actions—including the use of the Sacred Staff—were performed in accordance with the Saintess’s will. Sister Vania has indeed received a Revelation from the Saintess. This is no falsehood.”
Artcheli addressed her fellow cardinals with calm clarity. All around, startled expressions spread. Kramar’s previously gloating look collapsed entirely.
In truth, Artcheli had received a Revelation from the Saintess—but it hadn’t mentioned Vania at all. What it had emphasized, almost overtly, was Dorothy. The message came close to proclaiming Dorothy as the Saintess’s earthly representative.
In Artcheli’s mind, if Dorothy is the Saintess’s proxy, and Dorothy says the Revelation involved Vania—then so be it. What’s the harm?
That’s how Artcheli thought. After all, Dorothy and the Saintess look exactly alike. So treating Dorothy as the Saintess? No big deal.