Northern Main Continent, Frisland.
At night, far above the capital of Frisland, Aransdel, a massive object hovered above the pitch-black clouds.
It was a steel colossus, around four hundred meters in length—a steel warship. The vessel's entire frame resembled a gigantic cross lying sideways in the sky. Towering church-like structures rose from the intersection point of the cross’s rear segment, while murals depicting themes of chastisement and judgment adorned both lateral arms. From gaping openings in the murals, deep, protruding gun barrels extended outward.
On the deck at the front of the towering cathedral, a lofty platform made of pure white monolithic stone stood tall. At its base were carvings of countless skulls and bones, upon which rested a sanctified tribunal seat resembling a judgment throne. These clawing, writhing skeletons were locked in expressions of desperate struggle, yet the seat above them pressed them down immovably. Flanking either side of this tribunal were flagpoles bearing pages densely inscribed with church dogma, fluttering gently in the wind.
This was the Saint Steel Vessel of the Church’s Inquisition—the “Sacred Law Judicator.” It was the personal flagship of the current Inquisition Cardinal, Saint Kramar. Now, it floated silently above Aransdel, awaiting the grand judgment that was soon to come.
On the deck of the Sacred Law Judicator, before the towering open-air tribunal, Kramar—dressed in a luxurious cardinal’s robe—stood solemnly, gazing down at the city nightscape below. His expression was one of dignified gravity, as though he were scrutinizing a criminal awaiting judgment… or rather, he truly was.
At this moment, Aransdel—the capital of Frisland, a city of over one million souls—had already been deemed a heretical sinner awaiting judgment in Kramar’s eyes. While most of its people remained asleep, unaware of the impending doom, Kramar, in his capacity as Inquisition Cardinal, prepared to deliver divine retribution and obliterate everything before him.
In order to halt the cult’s ritual by massively reducing the required ritual components, Kramar needed to eliminate as many people as possible in the shortest span of time, denying the cult any chance to react. By that logic, the first target should be Frisland’s largest population center, Aransdel. Once this city was purified, he would move on to the others.
The deaths of a million innocents might seem inhumane, but to Kramar, it was a necessary sacrifice. If the cult's ritual were allowed to succeed, the resulting catastrophe could spread far beyond Frisland, threatening the entire world. While his methods were extreme, Kramar considered them absolutely right and necessary. Even if his actions would provoke opposition from other members of the Cardinal Council, or incur the Holy See’s disapproval—what of it? As long as the cult's massive conspiracy was foiled, any price paid would be worthwhile.
“Your Eminence… the spell structures are operating stably. Preparations inside the Saint Steel Vessel are nearly complete. We estimate everything will be ready by midnight…”
At that moment, a male cleric behind Kramar reported with a respectful bow. Kramar nodded silently upon hearing this.
“Midnight, is it… Just in time to issue them an ultimatum. Proceed.”
So spoke Kramar. The Sacred Law Judicator was now undergoing a series of procedures to assist with Kramar’s upcoming purification. While he could destroy the city even without the ship’s support, having it would greatly enhance the speed and efficiency of his actions. He could immediately move on to the next target after obliterating Aransdel, quickly traversing from city to city while accelerating his power release. After all, Aransdel was not the only city he intended to strike.
“Understood… But… but, Your Eminence, is it really necessary to go this far? We’re talking about an entire city’s population… Do we really need to do this? And without informing the Cardinal Council…”
The reporting cleric hesitated visibly as he spoke, clearly disturbed. Even Kramar’s most loyal subordinates felt uneasy about this decision.
“Do not waver! This purification is indeed a monstrous sin—but it is a necessary sin! We must judge sin with sin. It is a tragic necessity. If we do not strike now, if we fail to sentence the vile blasphemers before their plans bear fruit, then the guilt upon us in the days to come will be even greater. It will be a sin not just against the Church, but against the entire world!”
Kramar’s voice was harsh and impassioned, tinged with madness. To him, all threats to the Holy Church had to be eliminated, by any means necessary—no matter how extreme. He had always regarded Vania Chafferon as an unstable and dangerous individual, and for that reason, he had been willing to tacitly cooperate with the Afterbirth Cult if it meant removing her. He believed the damage caused by that alliance paled in comparison to the threat Vania posed. And now, similarly, he believed that purifying millions was less harmful than allowing the ritual of Nether Coffin to be completed.
“…Understood.”
The cleric hesitated for a moment but ultimately submitted to Kramar’s absolute tone.
Just as he was about to leave, another Inquisition cleric hurried across the deck and reported to Kramar.
“Your Eminence… we just received word. Redemption Cardinal Amanda departed Holy Mount earlier and appears to be headed toward Frisland. She’s likely coming here!”
The new cleric quickly delivered the update. Upon hearing it, Kramar’s expression tightened, and he gave a cold snort.
“Amanda… Hmph. A woman so thoroughly corrupted by heresy she’s beyond saving. That accursed nun must have informed her. I knew it—I never should’ve given them that so-called ‘investigation window.’ If they couldn’t uncover anything in half a year, how could they possibly discover anything in a few hours…”
Kramar muttered as he slowly turned around and addressed the two subordinates before him.
“Alert the entire ship. Prepare to intercept.”
“Yes, sir!”
After a brief reply, the two clerics quickly departed to carry out his orders. Kramar then looked solemnly toward the southern skies, his thoughts drifting back to that morning when he had met with Sinclair and Vania.
“…Why did I let that sinful nun go in a moment of weakness? I knew she’d inform Amanda. I could’ve just captured or killed her then and there…”
With a hint of regret and confusion, Kramar murmured to himself as he gazed into the night sky.
…
Amid darkness. Endless darkness.
In this vast, pitch-black void far removed from the physical world, only the faint glow of souls shimmered softly. Here, within this immense silence, the spiritual intelligence of souls gradually faded away.
Within this darkness, countless soul-lights slowly descended from an unseen zenith above. These ghostly drops rained down gently, gradually converging like droplets of water, forming trickling streams. These streams merged to become vast rivers—countless glowing rivers of souls winding and spiraling downward through the endless dark space, flowing toward an unseen abyss.
These rivers of souls stretched beyond sight, uncountable in number, just like the souls themselves.
The soul-streams converged into rivers, and rivers converged into vast currents. These immense rivers, whose surfaces surged like roaring oceans, still flowed downward. Eventually, these colossal rivers from every direction would all gather at a single point. At the very bottom of this infinite space, a faint white glow could barely be seen—the convergence point of all those soul rivers. It was a gentle white light, a dim star, a sun that did not dazzle the eyes—grand, magnificent, serene, and dreamlike. It had stood there since time immemorial, resembling either a well or a gate—a partial manifestation of a greater, more exalted being.
When Nephthys regained consciousness, she found herself seemingly floating atop the surface of water. Gentle, cool currents surrounded her, bearing her along toward some unknown distance. Everything was tranquil, everything was peaceful. The serenity made Nephthys feel as though she never wanted to wake again.
“Where… is this…? It feels so good…”
As Nephthys’s faint consciousness stirred, she was already slipping back into slumber amidst the serenity and haze. But just then, a voice suddenly echoed in her mind.
“Senior Nephthys! This is no time to be sleeping!”
“Mi—Miss Dorothy?!”
Startled by the familiar voice, Nephthys stiffened. It felt like dozing off in class, only to be called out by the teacher. Her awareness sharpened in an instant. Like a startled carp, she jolted upright from the “water’s surface”—only to immediately “sink” again due to the sudden movement.
“Gwahhh—blub blub—I’m drowning! Help!”
As Nephthys flailed instinctively in the “water,” she realized something was off. She wasn’t choking like she normally would. Then it dawned on her—this wasn’t water. The “fluid” surrounding her was dreamlike, intangible, yet oddly familiar. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was composed of countless souls in a liquefied form. She was drowning… in souls.
“These are… souls!”
Shocked by her surroundings, Nephthys instinctively tried to rise. With a light movement, she surged upward and finally saw the vast, boundless soul river—like an ocean, stretching endlessly. She was being swept away in its current, heading toward some unknown destination. Her own form was spirit-like, though still barely maintaining a humanoid shape rather than dissolving into pure soul-flame.
“All these… all of them are souls? So many… Where exactly am I? I was… I was just confronting that traitor shaman…”
Startled by the surreal sight, Nephthys muttered to herself. Just then, that familiar voice once again echoed in her mind.
“You’re deep in the Nether Realm, very close to the Great Soul. Any deeper would be extremely dangerous. You must find a way to get out now!”
Dorothy’s voice transmitted into her mind, and Nephthys felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
“Miss Dorothy? You can see my situation? That’s such a relief! But you said this is the deep Nether Realm? Then… how do I escape?!”
“In the Nether Realm, all souls flow toward the Great Soul. The direction of the current is where the Great Soul resides. So, you must try to go against the flow! If you can swim far enough upstream, you should be able to get closer to the physical world again!”
Dorothy’s voice continued to echo in Nephthys’s mind. Upon hearing this, Nephthys looked up once more at the boundless rivers of soul around her, then clenched her teeth.
“Swim against the current… Alright then…”
With that, she began channeling her spirituality, attempting to float out of the river by using the properties of her spirit-form. But it was useless. An immense pressure weighed down on the river. As soon as she managed to lift half her body out, she was crushed back into the flow by that invisible force.
Seeing that levitation was impossible, Nephthys switched to swimming, struggling against the current. But no matter how hard she paddled, she made no progress. Instead, she realized with growing alarm that she was drifting downstream even faster than before.
“Wahhh!! I’m getting swept away! I can’t swim up at all, Miss Dorothy! Why do I feel like I’m drifting faster than all the other souls?!”
Nephthys splashed helplessly, shouting to Dorothy in her heart as she flailed in the soul river. Dorothy was briefly stunned, then began observing Nephthys’s surroundings more carefully through her perception.
“She’s right… Nephthys really is drifting much faster than the others. Why is that…”
Dorothy grew anxious. Though the soul river carried countless spirits deeper into the Nether Realm, Nephthys’s speed was several times greater than theirs. At this rate, she would reach the Great Soul soon—and once she did, it would all be over.
Why was her soul drifting so quickly? Was it something unique about her?
These questions spun through Dorothy’s mind as she frantically searched for answers. Meanwhile, Nephthys’s anxiety reached a peak.
“I—I’m moving way too fast… I can’t stop at all… If I see the Great Soul, that’s basically the same as dying, isn’t it?!
“Ughhh… I’m still young… I haven’t even graduated from Royal Crown University yet! I haven’t worn all my cute outfits! I don’t wanna die! Miss Dorothy, help me!!”
Now fully aware of the peril she was in, Nephthys’s emotions erupted, and she cried out in her heart. Dorothy, however, responded with calm steadiness.
“Calm down, Senior Nephthys. There’s a reason why you’re drifting faster than anyone else. Don’t panic. We need to find it first.”
“…Okay.”
Hearing Dorothy’s words, Nephthys nodded and took a moment to steady herself, then began cooperating fully.
Following Dorothy’s guidance, she started trying different methods—constricting her spirituality, ceasing movement, turning her form into pure soul-flame… But none of it slowed her terrifyingly fast drift through the soul river. No matter what she did, she was still being carried far faster than normal.
“This isn’t working either… Dammit… What the hell is going on?!”
As Nephthys grew more frantic, Dorothy thought hard, then made another suggestion.
“It might have something to do with what's inside your soul… Senior Nephthys, try releasing some of the souls stored within your Goblet of Nether Guidance.”
“The ones sealed inside me… the other souls?”
At Dorothy’s new suggestion, Nephthys turned her focus inward. Within her was the Goblet of Nether Guidance that held the thousand souls she had collected for the sealing ritual. Judging by the time, the ritual was likely complete.
After a brief moment of concentration, Nephthys activated the Goblet and released two to three hundred souls. They surged out of her in a rush of soul-flame, rained down onto the river, and merged into the current.
As soon as she released them, her drifting speed noticeably slowed. Both Nephthys and Dorothy perked up at once.
“I—it’s slowing down!”
“As I suspected… it’s the soul mass. These souls are part of you now. The more souls you're tied to, the stronger the pull toward the Great Soul. You’re not just being pulled as one soul anymore. Quickly—release all of them!”
Realizing what was happening, Dorothy urged her on, and Nephthys wasted no time. She channeled her Goblet of Nether Guidance again and released all the souls at once. With a low hum, a torrent of soulfire erupted from her body, falling like rain into the river below.
The effect was immediate. Her drifting slowed drastically, until it matched the speed of the surrounding souls. Seeing this, Nephthys let out a long sigh of relief.
“Phew… it finally slowed down…”
“Good. Looks like I was right—the more souls you carried, the stronger the Great Soul’s pull. Now, try to return.”
Encouraged, Nephthys gave a small nod and began her escape attempt once more.
She tried rising out of the river first, but the immense invisible pressure still pinned her down. Then she resumed paddling against the current. This time, she managed to slow her drift a little further, but she was still being carried downstream.
“Ugh… huff… it’s no use, Miss Dorothy! I still can’t go back!”
As she fought upstream in vain, she cried out in despair.
Even Dorothy’s heart sank at the sight.
“Even after releasing all the souls… she still can’t resist the pull?”
“Miss Dorothy… What do I do now?!”
Nephthys cried out, hopelessness creeping in. And Dorothy fell silent.
…
Nighttime in Frisland. On the balcony of a hotel in Aransdel, Dorothy sat before a table, her expression solemn and heavy. At this moment, she wore a deeply grave expression as she pondered the situation unfolding in the Nether Realm far away.
“This is bad… Even after Nephthys released all the souls, she still can’t return. Though the pull has slowed, the downward drift hasn’t stopped. At this rate… she’s doomed…”
Dorothy frowned, thinking anxiously. She was trying to find some way—any way—to rescue Nephthys.
“That Western Great Shaman of the Nether Coffin must’ve banished Nephthys’s soul to a position extremely close to the Great Soul. That’s why she can’t resist the pull and is continuously being dragged down.
“According to what Uta said earlier, if a soul wants to return to the physical world from that kind of proximity to the Great Soul, there are two possible approaches: external power and internal strength. External power requires a strong necromantic force. Nephthys’s return ritual during her advancement, for instance, needed over ten shamans working together to summon her soul back. But the current depth she’s in might need even more than that. Internal strength would mean her soul being powerful enough to resist the pull on its own…
“But right now, I’ve completely lost contact with Ancestral Valley. It’s impossible to organize such a large-scale summoning ritual in a short time. And Nephthys is just a White Ash, stronger than ordinary people, yes, but nowhere near capable of withstanding this kind of gravitational pull on her own…
“So, neither internal nor external means are available right now. What do I do?”
Urgency pressed down on Dorothy’s mind. Time was running critically short—Kramar’s purification ritual was about to begin, the Great Wild Rite in Ancestral Valley was on the verge of opening despite a traitor hiding within, and Nephthys was on the brink of being dragged irrevocably into oblivion…
Each of these emergencies crowded her thoughts, muddling her usually sharp mind. For the first time, Dorothy—normally so composed—was showing visible signs of distress.
“Think of something, fast…”
In her anxiety, Dorothy began to pace and stomp her foot. Just then, she sensed a change from the other end of the information channel: Nephthys’s voice was growing weaker—her condition was shifting.
“So tired… I just… want to sleep…”
At that moment, after struggling in vain against the reverse flow of the soul river, Nephthys began to succumb to a wave of exhaustion—a fatigue on the very level of the soul. Her movements in the Nether River grew sluggish, and soon, she stopped entirely.
Worn and drained, she lay motionless atop the Nether River, letting the current carry her downstream. Sleep called to her from within the fatigue.
Seeing this, Dorothy’s heart jolted. She knew this was a sign. Nephthys had reached a critical depth of the Nether Realm. As the soul drew closer to the Great Soul, the pull would begin to alter the mind itself, stripping away conscious thought and replacing it with the instinctive desire to return.
“Stay awake, Senior Nephthys! You mustn’t sleep now! If you fall asleep here, it’s all over!”
Using the information channel, Dorothy called out urgently. Her voice had some effect—Nephthys’s hazy thoughts cleared a bit.
“Ah… Miss Dorothy… I hear you. I’ll try to stay awake. But honestly… I’m getting sleepier and sleepier. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on…”
Lying atop the Nether River, Nephthys tried her best to respond. Dorothy’s heart clenched even tighter. Glancing through Nephthys’s slightly turned vision, she observed that Nephthys was slowly overtaking other drifting souls in the river. This made Dorothy think harder.
“Wait… she’s overtaking the other souls?”
Dorothy suddenly froze. Something clicked in her mind, and she began to think faster.
“Didn’t Nephthys already release all the souls she was carrying? So why is her drifting still slightly faster than the average soul? Is it simply because her soul, as a Beyonder’s, is different from a normal one—or is it something else…?”
This observation sparked new confusion. Dorothy’s expression grew more solemn.
“Even if it's subtle, Nephthys is drifting faster than the others… This means the pull of the Great Soul on her is still greater than average. Aside from those thousand souls she already released, something else is still affecting her… What is it? The emptied Goblet of Nether Guidance? The nature of her Beyonder soul? Or…”
Countless thoughts surged through Dorothy’s mind. The only confirmed factor that increased the Great Soul’s pull was soul accumulation. The more souls connected, the stronger the gravitational effect. As for other possible factors like mystical artifacts or the nature and strength of a soul, she had no way of testing those now.
“If we’re certain Nephthys has released all her souls and has no active soul links… then whatever’s affecting her now must be something beyond sheer quantity, but what?”
As Dorothy wrestled with the puzzle, her eyes glanced across the table and landed unintentionally on a photograph she had taken from Artcheli. It depicted the warning message she had found aboard the Twilight Devotion.
Staring at it, Dorothy’s thoughts rewound, back to the incident in Tivian. In that moment, something clicked. She immediately called out to Nephthys.
“Senior Nephthys! After the divine disaster incident in Tivian, I remember you ran into spiritual depletion during the soul return ritual for Rachman, right?”
“Uh… yes… that’s right. According to the timing, my spirituality should have recovered enough to complete the ritual. But in the end, I was spiritually depleted… and I didn’t even notice. That was strange…”
Floating on the surface of the Nether River, Nephthys responded weakly. Dorothy immediately followed up.
“And after that? Have you run into spiritual depletion again? Or let me ask, has your spirituality ever returned to full since then?”
“My spirituality? Of course it’s… huh?”
Nephthys began to answer instinctively, but as Dorothy prompted her to think, she furrowed her brow.
“Wait… I don’t think it ever fully recovered… You’re right, Miss Dorothy! Now that you mention it, ever since that day, my spirituality’s never been full! There’s always been a little bit missing… Why didn’t I realize that sooner?!”
Nephthys spoke with dawning realization. Hearing her, Dorothy finally exhaled and responded in a stern tone.
“Listen closely, Senior Nephthys. Remember what I’m about to say. Check your soul state immediately. Look for any lingering rituals that might be continuously draining your spirituality!”
Dorothy’s voice was sharp with urgency. Nephthys blinked, then closed her eyes and began focusing inward. Following Dorothy’s guidance step-by-step, she examined herself—and indeed, found something.
“This… this is a summoning ritual! Miss Dorothy, thanks to your reminder, I didn’t even notice! I’ve been maintaining a summoning ritual this entire time! It’s been continuously draining my spirituality, no wonder it’s never fully recovered!”
Nephthys’s eyes flew open, stunned. She had no idea when she cast this summoning ritual, but it had clearly been active for a long time, at least since the end of the Tivian incident. It was this unintentional spiritual drain that caused her ritual for Rachman to fail.
“That’s strange… When did I even summon a soul? Why didn’t I dismiss it after summoning? Why have I kept maintaining this ritual until now? And most importantly… what exactly did I summon?”
Still adrift in the Nether River, Nephthys was visibly baffled and even slightly fearful. But upon hearing her response, Dorothy actually relaxed a little and let out a long breath.
“Those are questions… you’ll have to ask the soul you summoned and never dismissed.”
So Dorothy replied. Ever since she noticed that Nephthys was still drifting faster than the others, she suspected there might still be some sort of soul tethered to her—one subtle or hidden enough to go unnoticed. She had first thought perhaps some soul in the Goblet of Nether Guidance had been left behind, but recalling the failed spirit return ritual for Rachman gave her a new, more outlandish theory.
“You want me to ask the soul I summoned? But Miss Dorothy, I don’t even know what soul that is! Even though the ritual is active… and even though it’s draining my spirituality… I haven’t been able to locate it at all!”
Still puzzled, Nephthys questioned Dorothy. But Dorothy replied calmly.
“If you summoned it, then there’s a link between you and it. You can use that link to communicate. Just follow my instructions. First, focus your spirituality on the ritual and maintain the connection…”
With that, Dorothy began directly instructing Nephthys on how to proceed. Now that Nephthys had become aware of the persistent summoning ritual, she could begin making adjustments—including releasing it—at will.
Although the soul linked through the summoning ritual was the main culprit behind Nephthys’s accelerated drifting within the Nether River, Dorothy didn’t immediately instruct her to cancel the ritual and sever her connection to this mysterious unnamed soul. Instead, she had Nephthys begin controlling the flow of spirituality used to sustain the ritual, alternating it rhythmically, increasing and decreasing in a specific pattern.
Dorothy was having Nephthys use this pattern to send a message to the soul she was linked to, an encoded signal hidden within the fluctuations of spirituality. It was essentially this world’s version of a telegraph code. If the soul could read it, it could respond with its own energy fluctuations. Even if it couldn’t decipher the message, the intentional communication might prompt it to try contacting Nephthys by other means.
Under Dorothy’s guidance, Nephthys sent the message.
“Who are you?”
Fortunately, the mysterious soul could read code! After receiving Nephthys’s signal, it quickly responded—also through spiritual rhythm. Nephthys, as a university student in this era, naturally understood how to read encoded transmissions. She promptly murmured the reply aloud.
“My name is… Vambas Bernolet.”
“Vambas… So that’s the soul’s name? That’s great, Miss Dorothy! They understand code—we can now…”
She trailed off.
“Miss Dorothy?”
Just as Nephthys excitedly spoke, she noticed an odd silence from Dorothy, causing her heart to tighten.
“Vambas… that soul claimed that name… how is that possible?”
Sitting on the balcony of the Aransdel hotel, Dorothy muttered in disbelief upon sensing the soul’s reply. At that moment, Nephthys asked uneasily from within.
“Miss Dorothy… is there something wrong with the name Vambas?”
After a brief pause, Dorothy slowly answered.
“Vambas is…”
Before Dorothy could finish, something strange occurred in the Nether River near Nephthys. Not far from her, a translucent figure began rapidly forming. Soon after, a spirit clad in opulent Church vestments appeared on the river’s surface, his face dignified and solemn. Upon noticing Nephthys’s startled gaze, he looked over his own body and remarked in astonishment.
“I’ve been perceived? Was it because of that communication just now? A direct transmission from a bearer of Revelation… It was enough to re-anchor my existence… What a wondrous Revelation…”
Examining his condition, the spirit murmured with disbelief. Nephthys, meanwhile, stared at him in shock.
“Is this…?”
“That is Vambas Bernolet—one of the current Seven Living Saints of the Radiance Church, the Inquisition Cardinal, and the bearer of the holy name Kramar…”
Dorothy’s voice sounded in Nephthys’s heart with gravity. Upon hearing it, Nephthys blurted out in shock.
“Eh?! One of the Seven Living Saints of the Church… the Inquisition Cardinal?!
“My summoning ritual linked me to the soul of a Gold-rank Saint?!”
Mouth agape, Nephthys spoke in disbelief. Though she was only barely past the beginner level in mysticism studies, even she had heard of the Seven Living Saints of the Church. Their names echoed across both the mundane and mystical worlds—they were among the highest figures in the vast and bloated supranational structure that was the Radiance Church. And somehow, she had unknowingly summoned the soul of one of them?
“Miss Dorothy… is that really the soul of a Church Saint? What on earth is going on?”
Nephthys asked, bewildered. But even Dorothy had no concrete answer.
“…Honestly, I don’t really know either. I didn’t expect that mysterious soul to turn out to be him…”
Dorothy replied, just as astonished. Before she could prompt Nephthys to ask further questions, the soul—who had called himself Kramar—answered Nephthys’s earlier exclamation on his own.
“Strictly speaking… I am not the complete Inquisition Cardinal Kramar, but rather a fragment of his soul. I am a severed portion—a soul torn away, Bearer of Revelation…”
Kramar spoke gravely as he looked upon Nephthys. Yet even after hearing this, Nephthys’s astonishment did not subside.
“A part of Kramar’s soul? Why would a Saint of the Church have his soul torn apart? And why would that severed soul link to me? What… what in the world is going on?”
Still overwhelmed, Nephthys questioned the figure before her. Kramar responded slowly and solemnly.
“The reason behind this is long and complicated, but time is short, so I’ll keep it brief. Everything began… in April of last year…”
With a hint of reminiscence, Kramar began his account.
“At the time, I received reports from covert agents dispatched to Frisland. They claimed that heretical cult activity—long thought extinguished—had begun resurfacing there. The cultists were said to be hiding their presence exceptionally well, and normal investigation methods couldn’t uncover anything. It was suggested that I might need to investigate personally.
“So, at the end of March, I departed from Falano and began a circuit inspection of the Northern Court of Inquisition, with my main goal being the city of Stinam in Frisland. However, I left Stinam off the official itinerary to throw off the cult. I diverted toward it unexpectedly at the last moment.
“As expected, once I arrived in Stynam, I found clear traces of cult activity. Their influence had quietly permeated the entire city, and a wicked plan was taking shape, one that was preparing to spread across Frisland. To prevent future disaster and halt the spread of evil, I decided then and there to purify Stinam.”
Kramar’s tone was resolute. Hearing this, Dorothy couldn’t help but twitch the corner of her mouth. Even this Kramar keeps thinking about purifications… But judging from the subsequent crisis in Frisland, his judgment back then hadn’t necessarily been wrong.
Dorothy remained contemplative as Kramar continued.
“The situation in Stinam was dire. The cult’s ritual was on the verge of activation. I planned to notify Holy Mount immediately, but I was intercepted by two cult leaders: Kudoshum of Eternal Slumber and Jerak of Death Curse, two of the three Death Prelates of the Nether Coffin Order—both Gold-rank Beyonders. They stopped my communication using dark powers and sought to halt the purification.
“Realizing how vital the ritual was to them, I fought with all my might to complete the purification. But I only managed to finish a portion before realizing I had to retreat. I escaped, hoping to reach Holy Mount and inform the other cardinals. I did escape, but the cult leaders wouldn’t let me go.
“They activated the power of an evil god and cursed me. The curse was immensely powerful. If it succeeded, my soul would be banished to the Nether Realm for eternity, unable to reincarnate. All records and memories of my existence would be erased from the world. I would become a forgotten shadow, unable to contact anyone or be perceived by anyone.
“If the curse succeeded, not only would I vanish, but the Church would have no idea I ever existed. My disappearance would not trigger any investigation into Frisland…”
Kramar’s expression was grim as he spoke. Hearing this, Nephthys froze, then asked.
“But… the name Kramar hasn’t been forgotten in the present world. So that means you somehow resisted the curse?”
Kramar nodded.
“Exactly. The moment I sensed the curse taking effect, I acted. After understanding its mechanism, I tore my own soul apart. Using the authority of Church Doctrine, I designated one portion as the ‘Kramar’ identity and split off another. This confused the curse’s target. Only part of my soul was hit—banished to the Nether Realm and forgotten—while the rest stayed in the world, reinhabiting my body and returning to Holy Mount.
“But the cult leaders quickly realized their curse had failed. However, by then, they had already used up the high-grade medium they’d extracted from me during the earlier battle. Lacking another vessel, they couldn’t cast the curse again. They could only watch as I returned to Holy Mount.
“To avoid exposing their plans prematurely, they altered the curse’s focus. Perhaps at some cost, they expanded its scope—drawing more power from their evil god. They shifted the target from me to the entire city of Stinam. As a result, all information about Stinam was erased from the world.
“Everyone, including the fragment of my soul that remained, forgot everything about Stinam and the cult. Upon returning to Holy Mount, I was unable to warn the Cardinal Council of the conspiracy in time. Worse, the damage to my soul resulted in personality changes and mental instability. I lost my reason… and became mad.”
"Kramar" continued his slow recounting. After Nephthys listened with wide eyes to everything he said, she spoke in astonishment.
“So… so that means, the Kramar out there right now is a version with a fragmented soul, and you’re the part he’s missing? You’re the soul fragment that was cursed and banished? But then… how did you end up connected to me? And… didn’t the curse make you forget Stinam?”
Nephthys asked in confusion.
Kramar responded slowly, continuing his explanation.
“The curse that engulfed and entrapped me also isolated me from all other curses. The one that was already afflicting me somehow shielded me from the effects of the new one. That’s why I still remember so much about Stinam.
“When I was banished to the Nether Realm, I lost the power to return by my own strength, but I could still glimpse the physical world from its shallower layers, and I could observe the state of Holy Mount through the half of me that remained there. I tried many methods to contact the living, but due to the curse, every attempt failed. No one could sense me. I couldn’t reach anyone. I wanted to deliver news of Stinam to Holy Mount—but I was utterly helpless.
“I waited in the Nether Realm for an entire year. Though I grew more and more hopeless, I never gave up trying to send out information. After countless failures, my opportunity finally came.
“I could still perceive glimpses of the material world. After the Busalet incident, I learned through the Cardinal Council about the resurgence of Revelation. That sparked the thought in me: perhaps the divinity of Revelation could counter the divinity of Silence. At that time, the only ones with potential contact with ancient Revelation were Vania Chafferon, who was under house arrest at Holy Mount, and the investigative Cardinal of Secrets, Artcheli. Since Vania was unable to move freely, I began closely tracking the Cardinal of Secrets in the Nether Realm, keeping pace with her investigations, even before she began properly investigating the southern Heaven’s Arbiter Sect.
“Everything changed during the divine disaster in Tivian. I always arrived a step behind the Cardinal. But when I reached the corresponding region of the Nether Realm, the Blackdream was unleashing divine interference across the material world. The divine fog was so thick that the boundaries between dream and reality blurred—and that disruption also weakened other barriers, including the veil of the Nether Realm itself.”
As he spoke, Kramar turned his head to look toward Nephthys.
“At that moment, I sensed a summoning within the Nether Realm. I knew it was a ritual performed by a Beyonder of Silence. I seized the opportunity and responded to the call, forming a link through the summoning ritual. I hoped to use the thinned boundary between realms to return to the physical world.”
“A summoning… wait, could that have been… the one I cast back then?!”
Nephthys gasped. During the divine disaster in Tivian, she had performed several summoning and communion rituals. One of them, under Dorothy’s guidance, was a hasty, broad-spectrum summoning across the Tivian region of the Nether Realm—to locate the Apostle-turned Gu Mian by scattering souls throughout as spiritual positioning anchors. It must have been during that summoning that Kramar formed his link with her!
“Exactly—that summoning, when the boundary was weakened, allowed me to partially break free from the Nether Realm. I could then interfere with the physical world to a limited extent. I didn’t follow your original command; instead, I urgently sought a way to leave behind information. At that time, the Cardinal of Secrets was aboard the Twilight Devotion, observing the divine entity—‘the Moth’—which was the avatar of the Blackdream leader. I infiltrated the Twilight Devotion and used one of the instruments being influenced by divinity to leave information about Stinam. Only divinity can imprint on divinity.
“After the divine disaster ended and the boundaries were restored, I was pulled back into the Nether Realm before fully escaping. But I didn’t sever the summoning link I’d forged with you. During the crisis, I had already noticed your profound connection to the ancient Revelation. That connection… is my only hope for breaking this curse. And now, at long last, I’ve been granted the chance to speak again.
“This is thanks to you, the one chosen by the ancient Revelation in this era… and you, the Bearer of Revelation. Together, you are the most vital force in resisting the Nether Coffin Order.
“To ensure your operations in Aransdel proceeded smoothly, I even used all the strength I had this morning to influence my frenzied half, deterring him from striking at Sister Vania Chafferon right away.”
Kramar’s eyes fixed on Nephthys’s spirit form, but his gaze seemed to pierce through her and land on Dorothy herself, far away in Aransdel.
At that moment, Dorothy exhaled softly. Having listened to Kramar’s entire explanation, she finally leaned back slightly in her chair, letting her thoughts drift for a moment. Then she whispered quietly.
“What a… fascinating sequence of events.”