Northern Main Continent, Frisland.
At the break of dawn, darkness gradually receded from Frisland. Yet, the morning light that should have appeared from the eastern sky was nowhere to be found. In its place came overwhelming darkness and cold.
Thick layers of cloud blanketed the heavens, plunging dawnlit Aransdel into the same shadows as night. A bitter blizzard howled between heaven and earth, bringing a sharp plummet in temperature and a growing accumulation of snow upon the silent city.
To the north, the sea churned beneath the storm, lashed by relentless wind and snow. Further still, the far northern horizon was buried under a sheet of white. From within that desolate mass came a deep, echoing hum.
“That… is Inut? The Northern Tyrant from the legends… an ancient heretic god from before the current epoch?
“What an unimaginable spiritual disturbance… a supernatural entity of this scale, appearing directly in the material world? This is no mere divine trace. Is this… what they call a ‘god’?”
In the plaza before the Requiem Cathedral in central Aransdel, Amanda, the Cardinal of Redemption and one of the Church Saints, stared north at the overwhelming storm, sensing an immense and unprecedented presence, and spoke in awe.
“So this… this is the final trump card of the Nether Coffin Order’s plan. Even though the Starfall’s ancient rites, the Heaven's Arbiter Sect, and I did everything we could to hinder their operations at the Starfall Continent, they still managed to summon a being of this magnitude…”
Not far from her, Kramar spoke in a grim tone, glancing southward as he did.
“Based on the spiritual fluctuations from the west, Hilbert and the others must have sensed the undead dragon and launched an attack using the Sacred Staff. But it looks like it didn’t work…”
“I’ve been trying to establish contact with Holy Mount,” Amanda added, her expression darkening.
“But the interference is enormous—it’ll take some time. After facing an actual heretic god directly, I can’t even imagine what condition Hilbert and the others are in… Let’s hope it’s not too disastrous…”
As Amanda spoke, Kramar shifted his gaze back to the vast spectacle on the Northern Sea and said, “I thought that traitor would drive the heretic god straight into Aransdel… but I didn’t expect its final destination to veer so far off from land. What’s it going to do in such an uninhabited place?”
Kramar frowned. He had originally believed Fabrizio would direct the undead dragon to land on the Main Continent, either to confront Holy Mount or descend upon Frisland. While the dragon had indeed flown toward Frisland, its ultimate destination was far to the north—an uninhabited, frozen archipelago in the Northern Sea.
“That…”
Amanda began to reply, trying to parse it aloud, when suddenly a voice called out behind them.
“In accordance with the Revelation… this question may require a council of more specialists to unravel.”
Hearing the voice, Amanda and Kramar both turned slightly in surprise. What they saw was a woman in a black nun’s habit with black hair, Sadroya.
“Revelation? You mean…”
Amanda asked curiously, quickly discerning the woman’s identity.
Without elaborating, Sadroya pulled a small bottle from her robe and shattered it on the ground. The silvery mercury-like fluid quickly condensed into a Silence array, and she crouched by it, chanting softly.
Under the faint glow of the Silence array, the channel to the spirit realm reopened. One by one, humanoid soul-forms floated forth from the circle, settling beside them. Then came the second, then the third...
Upon closer inspection, they were the same souls who had fought against the Nether Coffin Order at the Starfall Continent: Harald, Rachman, and the spiritual form of Nephthys. All had been reverse-summoned from the Starfall Continent.
Finally, from within the circle emerged the long-bearded elder—the True Spirit Shaman of the Shamanic Church.
“Ah… already here? That was fast! If only travel could always be this convenient…”
Nephthys remarked as she re-materialized, gazing at the familiar architecture with some amazement.
Amanda, seeing this group of spirits arrive, furrowed her brow and asked.
“You are…?”
“This is the Western Starfall Ancient Rite… the Revered True Spirit Shaman, highest priest of the Western heretic faith, and the ancient spirits associated with him.”
Kramar explained. Hearing of the shaman’s rank, Amanda paused, then respectfully bowed to him, extending courtesy to the spiritual leader of the Shamanism faith.
The True Spirit Shaman nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t exchange words with the two high leaders of the Eastern faith. His gaze turned immediately north, toward the raging blizzard across the sea, his expression solemn.
“Honored heretic elder… can you discern what the Nether Coffin Order’s goal is?”
Amanda asked directly.
The True Spirit Shaman did not respond. Instead, Nephthys—who had been enjoying the northern scenery—seemed to jolt awake, as if reminded of something. She quickly ran between Amanda and the shaman and translated Amanda’s question into soul-speech.
After a brief pause, the shaman responded in the same language.
“I can feel… beneath this land, a vast number of slumbering souls… They exist in two layers, buried at different depths. The first—shallower—layer of souls has been infused with evil power. They are filled with sorrow and pain, twisted beyond repair… they have already become evil spirits—beyond salvation…
“These evil spirits have been woven into a vast ritual, forming an unimaginable network. The ritual is now primed to activate…”
The True Spirit Shaman’s voice was soft, but his words were grim. Hearing this, Kramar immediately added.
“So this is the enormous ritual the Nether Coffin Order has secretly constructed across Frisland… but for now it remains dormant…”
Then, frowning, Kramar continued.
“This plan… took them centuries to embed across Frisland. But you said the ritual spirits are just one layer of the underground souls. What about the second layer?”
The True Spirit Shaman quickly answered.
“The second layer lies deeper, far older. Their resting place lies between the material world and the Nether Realm, more inclined toward the latter. If the first layer has slept for decades or centuries, then these souls have slept for over five thousand years… deeply and peacefully. They are not evil spirits.
“This ancient group of souls was in a serene, dreamless slumber… but now they stir. I believe the presence of the Lord of Calamitous Cold has affected them. There appears to be a connection between these souls and the Lord of Calamitous Cold…”
The shaman's soul-speech left most of the listeners bewildered. Only Nephthys’s eyes lit up with realization.
“Frisland thousands of years ago… the Northern Sea before the Epoch… could it be…”
Her voice trailed off as she turned to Harald, intending to ask something. But she found him wide-eyed, trembling with anger as he stared north.
“That direction… Don’t tell me that damn blasphemer’s targeting the Hall of War Spirits?!”
With clenched fists and seething fury, Harald spat the words. Nephthys immediately asked.
“The Hall of War Spirits? What’s that?”
“It is the final haven of the brave—the true home of Northern Sea warriors’ souls!”
Harald turned to explain, his tone grave.
“In the days of the Northern Sea Empire, every warrior who died in battle for the Great Emperor could voluntarily enter the Hall of War Spirits after death. There, they would enjoy eternal honor and continue to follow the Emperor in conquest. When the Emperor calls upon them on the battlefield, their heroic souls respond, fighting side by side with the living once more…
“They are the most loyal warriors! The purest of heroes! Had I not died in an accident, I too would have joined them… And now that blasphemer not only profanes the Great Emperor, but also dares to reach for them… it is unforgivable!”
Glaring northward at the vast, snow-blinded storm, Harald declared this with fury. Kramar, hearing his words, could only murmur grimly.
“The Hall of War Spirits, huh…”
…
Northern Main Continent, over the vast ocean.
At this moment, the sea surged and waves crashed beneath the gloomy sky. A fierce blizzard raged endlessly over the ocean, causing the temperature to drop with every passing moment.
Eventually, when the surrounding temperature fell below a certain threshold, even the churning ocean began to freeze. As solid ice crystals spread across the surface, the once-turbulent waves became frozen sculptures—grand monuments of stillness. Above these icy sculptures, a massive shadow swept across the sky at high speed.
Amid the storm, Fabrizio guided the undead dragon as it flew rapidly through the frozen heavens. Having successfully suppressed Holy Mount and cut off the Church's major interference, Fabrizio finally brought the undead dragon near the Main Continent.
However, he didn’t choose to land the dragon on land. Instead, he directed it straight toward the northern maritime region of the continent. Though the extreme weather it created had already plunged vast stretches of land into a sudden snowstorm—causing severe disasters—the core of the destructive cold vortex remained over the sea. Thanks to this, the cities on land had not suffered the same fate as those on the New Continent, where entire cities were abandoned. Still, many livestock and homeless perished from the freeze…
Had the undead dragon not been restrained at all by Holy Mount, forcing a split in its divinity and thus reducing its power, the disaster caused by merely passing over the Main Continent would have been catastrophic.
“Almost there…”
Sealed within the icy crystal embedded in the undead dragon’s ribs, the skeletal bishop muttered as he looked down at the scene below. In the sea beneath, various islands appeared from time to time, drifting past as the dragon soared overhead. Fabrizio carefully inspected them as if searching for something.
“Found it…”
At last, he spotted a large barren island ahead, marked by towering peaks. Upon seeing it, Fabrizio immediately had the undead dragon slow down and descend rapidly toward it.
Eventually, the dragon landed on the island. As its massive body touched down, tremors rippled across the land. Several mountain peaks on the island appeared insignificant before its immense frame, like mere toys.
The island Fabrizio chose was a thoroughly uninhabited one, covered in craggy rocks and barren terrain. Nearly no vegetation grew here. Along the coast lay countless ancient skeletons, the weapons they once carried now long rusted away.
Scattered across the island stood various rune-engraved pillars. Amid the mountainous areas were broken stone ruins—including shattered stone temples—evidence of the island’s former grandeur.
“Come, Inut—summon the warriors who once fought for you! Let them offer themselves for the cause of the King of the Underworld!”
Once the dragon had landed, Fabrizio cried out in soul-speech. Responding to the skeletal bishop’s command, the undead dragon raised its massive head and let out a sky-shaking roar.
“Ooooh—!!”
As the dragon howled, the runes carved into the pillars all across the island lit up, flickering with faint light. Simultaneously, the scattered skeletal remains began to stir, their jaws opening as they joined the dragon’s cry toward the sky.
The undead dragon’s roar, spoken in soul-speech, spread across all of Frisland. Countless mortals hundreds of kilometers away clutched their heads in agony and collapsed unconscious, completely overwhelmed.
Within the dragon’s cry, in a realm between the material world and the Nether Realm, countless slumbering souls were stirred awake. Bound by ancient contracts, they began marching from the Nether Realm to the present world, manifesting within Frisland.
Centered on that ancient island, countless translucent phantoms began to rise from underground. Clad in broken Northern Sea–style armor and wielding chipped weapons, the ancient dead emerged from the frozen sea and drifted, confused, toward the island where the dragon now rested.
It wasn’t just the frozen ocean releasing souls. Even Aransdel, far south of the island, was affected. From its grounds, the souls of ancient Northern Sea warriors rose and responded to the distant call, swiftly floating northward. For a time, the skies above the city were filled with drifting spirits.
“That damn blasphemer… He actually did it! Controlling the Great Emperor wasn’t enough—he even dares to enslave the warriors?!
“Brave warriors of the Northern Sea, awaken! It is not the Great Emperor calling you—it is a wretched blasphemer no better than a worm!”
In the plaza before the Requiem Cathedral, Harald watched as soul after soul rose from the city and cried out in desperation, trying to awaken the warriors from their slumber. But his efforts had little effect—the spirits, still dazed, continued drifting north toward the source of the call.
“These souls… Are they the ancient warriors once under the Northern Tyrant’s command? Is the Nether Coffin Order using the death dragon to awaken them and expand its army?”
Kramar muttered, frowning as he watched the spectral tide. At his side, the True Spirit Shaman was quietly sensing something. He answered calmly.
“These souls… aren’t being forcibly turned into minions. The servant of the Evil Spirit King is suppressing their willpower, not enslaving them, but gathering them like puppets. I can feel that it is constructing a ritual at the gathering point… I suspect these souls are being prepared for that ritual.”
“A ritual? That thing is preparing another one? What kind?”
Kramar pressed the question. Among those present, only the Gold-rank shaman with profound sensitivity to souls could perceive the situation clearly. After a moment of thought, the True Spirit Shaman responded.
“I can sense… the servant of the Evil Spirit King is linking the awakened ancient souls to the first layer of evil spirits underground. It is not building a new ritual, but integrating these souls into the ritual already constructed by those spirits.”
“You mean… the Earth Grievance Ritual? But that can’t be activated—it lacks a large-scale purification to trigger it!”
Kramar blurted out in surprise. The True Spirit Shaman nodded and explained.
“Exactly. Because the ritual cannot be triggered by normal means… it now needs these ancient souls as substitutes.
“From what I can tell, the Earth Grievance Ritual, as you call it, likely requires souls created through mass slaughter as the trigger. But your side interfered and prevented such killings. The ritual now lacks enough sacrificial souls to activate.
“So, the servant is collecting those ancient souls—who once served the Lord of Calamitous Cold—to use as new triggering material. Once it finishes gathering them, it will sacrifice them all at once to activate the ritual.”
While analyzing this aloud, the True Spirit Shaman paused. Kramar murmured thoughtfully after hearing it.
“So… the great traitor intends to substitute the souls of ancient warriors in place of Aransdel’s citizens, to activate the Earth Grievance Ritual? But… that shouldn’t work. The ritual’s sacrifices can’t be just any soul…”
Kramar muttered incredulously. The shaman narrowed his eyes and continued.
“These ancient souls are of high rank and quality, and there are many of them. They are excellent material for a ritual, not just any soul.”
“No, the issue isn’t about quality or level—it’s about nature.”
Kramar quickly replied, then continued after organizing his thoughts.
“You may not know—those evil spirits buried beneath Frisland, who form the foundation of the Earth Grievance Ritual, are all filled with overwhelming resentment. They’re the result of centuries of wrongdoing by the Church on this land. They died at the hands of the Church and harbor deep hatred toward it.
“The ritual built upon them requires sacrificial souls with a similar nature. To resonate with the evil spirits and trigger the ritual, the sacrificed souls must share their hatred—ideally, they should also have died at the Church’s hands.”
Kramar explained this mechanism in soul-speech. After his explanation, Amanda’s eyes widened in realization and she asked.
“So… this is why the Nether Coffin Order kept trying to make you purify Aransdel?”
“Exactly. Because to resonate with the evil spirits underground, the sacrificial souls must be slain by the Church. Any other form of death won’t work. That’s why they did everything they could to make my ‘other half’ carry out the purification…”
Kramar’s expression was grim. If their goal had merely been to annihilate Aransdel, the Nether Coffin Order had countless ways to accomplish it. The fact that they had painstakingly manipulated events to make his other half execute the purification proved it wasn’t about destruction—it was about who killed the victims.
However... souls produced by direct killings at the hands of the Nether Coffin Order do not meet the requirements. They cannot resonate with the vengeful evil spirits of the Earth Grievance Ritual—spirits who died at the hands of the Radiance Church. Therefore, Kramar’s other self was necessary for the ritual’s activation: Aransdel had to be destroyed by Radiance. If the purification failed, the Nether Coffin Order would be forced to proceed with a backup plan.
“So… the Nether Coffin Order intends to use those ancient souls to replace the people of Aransdel? But all of those souls died before the Epoch—they have no connection to the Radiance Church. How could they serve as a substitute?”
Amanda asked, voicing her doubts. Kramar paused briefly, as if he too had not yet found a satisfying explanation.
“That’s a good question…”
He turned toward the True Spirit Shaman and relayed their shared confusion through soul-speech. After a moment of silence, the shaman finally replied.
“In this case… I cannot offer a definite explanation. I can only speculate that there may exist some latent commonality between the souls of the warriors who once served the Lord of Calamitous Cold and the evil spirits bound to the Earth Grievance Ritual. Though this commonality may be imperceptible to us…”
As the shaman spoke, Kramar furrowed his brow and asked further.
“Then… what should we do? How can we stop the Nether Coffin Order from initiating the ritual?”
“It is… difficult. The servant of the Evil Spirit King now wields the corpse of the Lord of Calamitous Cold. In terms of power, the gulf between us is insurmountable. Across such a chasm… there may be no clever tricks to exploit.”
Gazing at the city flooded with drifting ancient spirits, the shaman spoke with a note of despair.
“The boundary between gods and men is not one that can be crossed… Any stratagem is in vain. All we can do now is act with all our might… and hope for a miracle.”
As he spoke, he closed his eyes. Then, as he chanted softly under his breath, a massive Silence array manifested in midair, glowing with radiant light.
“I will do what I can to exorcise the evil spirits constructing the ritual. If enough are destroyed, the ritual may fail. Do everything you can to protect me while I perform the exorcism.”
With those words, the True Spirit Shaman began chanting intensely. As his ancient soul-speech echoed through the deathly silent, snowbound city, his power flowed into the earth, reaching toward the countless evil spirits sealed away by the Nether Coffin Order.
And so, amid the wailing of the earth, a new phase of resistance began—one led by the Shamanic and Radiance Churches against the Nether Coffin Order’s plan.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city… a different plan was unfolding.
…
On the dark streets of Aransdel, Nephthys exhaled a cloud of white mist as she sprinted through the blizzard. After briefly translating at the Requiem Cathedral, she had departed and followed the voice in her heart to the predetermined meeting place.
“I’ve arrived…”
Seeing a black carriage parked by the snow-covered roadside at a distant intersection, Nephthys let out a sigh of relief. As she approached, the carriage door opened slowly, and a familiar petite figure stepped down.
Wearing a lady’s black formal hat and long black dress paired with leather boots, and a tailored formal coat with a bowtie, Dorothy descended from the carriage, holding a short cane and gazing at Nephthys with a serious expression.
“Miss Dorothy…”
“You’re both here, right? Senior Nephthys… Mr. Rachman.”
Dorothy spoke softly as she looked at Nephthys. Behind Nephthys, the spirit of an ancient warrior dressed in North Ufigan attire appeared. It was none other than King Rachman of Addus. He nodded respectfully to Dorothy upon revealing himself.
“Good… time is short. Take this, and let’s begin immediately.”
“Mm!”
With that, Dorothy tossed a small cloth pouch to Nephthys. After catching it, Nephthys reached out her hand. Behind her, she merged with Rachman’s spirit, integrating body and soul. Then, she grasped Dorothy’s hand.
Holding Dorothy’s hand, Nephthys silently concentrated, as if perceiving something… until suddenly, she gasped and her eyes flew open.
“Ah!!!”
With a sharp scream, Nephthys jerked back, letting go of Dorothy’s hand as if shocked. She staggered two steps backward, and Rachman’s spirit was forcibly ejected from her body, wearing a look of astonishment. Dorothy quickly stepped forward to steady her.
“Are you alright, Senior Nephthys?”
“I-I’m fine… just… it felt so terrifying… truly terrifying…”
Eyes wide with fear, Nephthys trembled as she stood, unable to conceal the dread on her face. Seeing her state, Dorothy paused, then turned toward Rachman—who, even with his usual composure, now bore a shaken expression.
“What… did you see in my bloodline?”
Dorothy asked seriously. Nephthys swallowed, then spoke first.
“One side… one branch… nothing unusual. But the other…”
“That other branch—we could see only darkness. Within that darkness, we glimpsed… overwhelming terror. If not for the extraordinary artifact you gave us for protection, we might’ve suffered serious harm just from that glimpse.”
Rachman followed up. Hearing his words, Dorothy took back the cloth pouch from Nephthys and opened it. Revealing a simple, pitch-black jade crown.
“Then… how would you evaluate my bloodline?”
Dorothy asked gravely. Rachman responded again.
“Miss Mayschoss… your blood contains something extraordinary. Though largely dormant, I can confirm it carries… no—connects to divinity… Divinity of Shadow…”
“Yes, Miss Dorothy… while much of your blood is mixed with mortal lineage, half of it is far beyond anything human. That divine half is almost entirely inactive—its functionality no different from mortal blood. But when we traced its origin… we saw only bottomless darkness, and something truly horrifying.”
Nephthys added. Rachman nodded solemnly.
“Indeed… Miss Mayschoss, I cannot conclusively declare you a divine offspring, but you share an intimate connection with the divine. Even if you weren’t born of a god, it is as if a god used part of their own blood to shape your form.
“What puzzles me, however, is why your divine blood is so severely inert. In theory, any divine child or divine-blooded being should naturally possess divine traits. Yet yours functions only like ordinary mortal blood—bearing no divine effects, with only a trace connection to the divine source.”
Rachman’s explanation was careful and deliberate. Hearing all this, Dorothy’s face revealed no particular emotion. She seemed to have expected it. She simply stared at her own hand and murmured.
“Divine blood, almost entirely inert… with a divine origin… yet without divinity?
“Then, though born a divine offspring or a divine-blooded creation… I grew up no different from a mortal. I should’ve been born as an Apostle of Shadow… but instead, I became a mortal.
“Does my identity as a mortal matter that much to you…? ‘Mother’…”
She whispered to herself. After a sigh, Dorothy turned back to Rachman and Nephthys and said solemnly.
“Thank you both very much. I’ve wanted to investigate my bloodline for a long time, but since it involves divinity, the risks were high. I had planned to wait until after Nephthys reached Crimson-rank and I had made sufficient preparations. But with time so short now, I can’t afford to wait any longer.”
As she spoke, she turned her gaze northward, toward the icy winds and raging blizzard.
In that moment of silent watching, Dorothy quietly reached out to connect with the not far away Vania.
…
On the plaza before the Requiem Cathedral, the True Spirit Shaman was working diligently to dismantle and exorcise the evil spirits of the Earth Grievance Ritual, while Amanda and Kramar—the two cardinals—stood by in vigilant defense. At this moment, nearly all their hopes were pinned on the Shaman.
“Cardinal Amanda! Cardinal Kramar!”
Just then, Vania—dressed in a white nun’s habit—ran over urgently from the edge of the plaza and quickly approached Amanda. Seeing her, Amanda frowned slightly.
“What is it, Vania…?”
“I… I have something of the utmost importance! I need you both to contact the other cardinals immediately, initiate a remote Cardinal Council, and pass this resolution! It must be ratified!”
As she spoke, Vania waved her hand, releasing Lantern spirituality that rapidly self-assembled in the air. The glowing motes of light joined together into letters, which formed words and sentences, eventually becoming a glowing document that appeared before Kramar and Amanda.
Upon reading the content of the projected document, both cardinals’ expressions changed dramatically.
“Add a bloodline to the Savior? Sister Vania… have you gone mad?!”
“This… This is heresy! A blatant defilement of the scriptures! Vania Chafferon! I know you have powerful backers, but don’t go too far!”
Seeing the article Vania presented, the two Radiance Church cardinals could no longer restrain themselves. Their emotions ran high for what Vania proposed was profoundly inflammatory.
The document she submitted was a resolution intended for the Cardinal Council. It touched on the very core of Radiance theology: the divine itself.
Vania’s proposal demanded that the Church amend its supreme holy scripture—to include a divine genealogy for the theoretical highest god of Radiance, the Radiant Savior—essentially granting the Savior “relatives.”
And in this so-called divine family tree, Vania had gone so far as to give the Radiant Savior siblings, and even a father! It was utterly outrageous!
While the Savior is not the primary focus of worship in the Radiance Church, it is still technically their highest deity. To suddenly retcon a father into the theology of the highest god—what devout Radiance believer could possibly accept that? Let alone the cardinals at the very top.
Blasphemy. This was pure blasphemy. Vania had already committed more than enough rule-breaking in the past, and now she dared go even further, modifying scripture itself, and then brazenly presenting it to the Cardinal Council for approval.
Had Kramar not recently undergone such profound tempering of his mindset, he might have incinerated Vania on the spot.
“Cardinals, I know full well that amending the scriptures is a heresy of the highest order… but it is only through this that we stand a chance of repelling the heretic god! To thwart the Nether Coffin Order’s conspiracy—to protect the mortal realm! This is a Revelation I have received! Please… trust me, and trust this ‘Revelation.’ As it has in the past, it will help us defeat the heretic god.
“Besides, this resolution only needs approval by the Council—it doesn't need to be widely announced or published among the laity. Just like the existence of the Saintess, this divine genealogy can remain a secret of the Church leadership. If the Holy See is dissatisfied in the future, it can be rescinded at any time. I will bear all the consequences!”
Faced with their outrage, Vania spoke solemnly and earnestly. Hearing her words, both Kramar and Amanda were briefly stunned and didn’t immediately respond.
They knew full well: the one guiding Vania was none other than the Heaven's Arbiter Sect, led by the Heaven’s Arbiter. Though the Church maintained a cautious stance toward this heterodox order, the cardinals could not deny that the Order had provided immense assistance to the Radiance Church in past major crises. Without their intervention, traditional heretical sects might have already wreaked untold havoc on the world. At the very least, on the front of combating heretic gods, the Heaven's Arbiter Sect stood firmly with the Radiance Church.
Officially, the Radiance Church rejected heterodox deities, but at the highest levels, there was tacit tolerance. The Queen of the Night Sky, a Saintess in her own right, held recognized status within the Church. The Core of Order Church of the White Craftsmen’s Guild had also adopted an accepting stance.
And as for the mysterious god of “Revelation”… even the Radiance Church had no choice but to show respect.
“This…”
Faced with Vania’s divine revelation resolution, Amanda and Kramar hesitated. And just then—at the distant Northern Sea—the skeletal bishop made his move.
On the storm-wracked island surrounded by the howling of a thousand souls, as the undead dragon roared, Fabrizio—sealed in frost—sensed something amiss in the Earth Grievance Ritual. He could feel the True Spirit Shaman attempting to dismantle the ritual’s foundation.
“Hmph… meddlesome pests…”
With a disdainful mutter, Fabrizio acted. Because the undead dragon was still summoning the ancient souls, he refrained from using its full power to attack Aransdel directly. Instead, he drew on only a portion of its strength.
“Perish.”
With that cold utterance, Fabrizio leveraged the nature of the Nether Realm and launched a targeted assault on the Shaman’s ritual. Using a fragment of divine power, he drew forth a massive surge of spirituality from the Nether Realm and struck directly at the Nether Realm projection of the True Spirit Shaman’s ritual.
In that instant, a torrent of destructive spiritual energy surged toward the Shaman’s ritual, crashing violently into it. The ritual formation on the Cathedral Plaza began to tremble and distort, threatening to collapse and explode. The chaotic energy from the Nether Realm began tearing through the Shaman’s spiritual body, causing his eyes to snap open in shock.
“This is bad…”
At that moment, due to powerful interference from the Nether Realm, the ritual began to unravel. The formation neared collapse, and the Shaman’s spiritual body was on the verge of disintegration. If it broke apart now, the unleashed destructive spirituality would erupt into a soul-scream that could annihilate everything within ten kilometers.
“This is sacred ground! Foul demonic force, begone immediately!”
Faced with imminent disaster, Amanda and Kramar took action. Kramar stabilized the ritual with sacred law, while Amanda absorbed the damage meant to tear apart the Shaman’s soul, transferring it to her own body.
The crisis was defused, but not without cost.
The ritual array didn’t explode, but it did shatter. This signified the failure of the True Spirit Shaman’s attempt. Kramar, having faced the direct brunt of the spiritual backlash, staggered and nearly collapsed, struggling to remain standing. Amanda, meanwhile, coughed up massive amounts of blood and was now pale-faced, her clothes soaked in crimson as she held her chest, trembling on the verge of collapse. The Shaman’s spiritual form dimmed in a haze of confusion.
“Cardinal Amanda! Cardinal Kramar! Are you alright?!”
Seeing this, Vania grew desperate and tried to rush forward to heal them. But at that moment, Amanda—bloodied and barely standing—placed a trembling hand on Vania’s shoulder and, with blood at the corner of her lips, spoke resolutely.
“Vania… have them prepare… we’ll contact Holy Mount now… and approve the document…”
Amanda looked directly at Vania as she spoke. Vania blinked, then turned to look at Kramar. Pale and silent, he did not speak—but neither did he object.
Amanda and Kramar had been on the verge of agreeing with Vania even before. Now, with the failure of the True Spirit Shaman’s ritual, all they could do was place their hopes in this document.
“Understood…”
Seeing Amanda’s condition, Vania nodded seriously. And at last, the two cardinals began opening the highest-priority communication channel to contact Holy Mount.
…
At the peak of Holy Mount, before the Grand Chapel, the mighty Seraphic form of Hilbert was still exerting all his strength to repel the continued assault from the avatar of the undead dragon. He was being completely suppressed—the situation grew ever more dire.
At this moment, Hilbert received news from Alberto below: word from northern Frisland, the current global crisis, and Amanda and Kramar’s recommendation.
Hilbert, Alberto, and Marco—the three saints—were visibly stunned when they first laid eyes on the document, which was clearly laced with the sin of blasphemy. But once they understood the full gravity of the situation and the intentions of the cardinals outside the Holy Domain, they made their decision.
“Even Kramar agreed to it… If I, as the voice of the shamans, remain opposed, wouldn’t that be too conservative? Hah… I can’t believe I’ve come to appear obstinate even in front of the Inquisition Cardinal…”
As he withstood the blue-black dragonbreath, Hilbert spoke in a jesting tone, while Alberto replied bluntly.
“The situation is extremely urgent—we cannot turn a blind eye to the world beyond the Holy Domain. As outrageous as this proposal appears, we’ve no choice but to treat a dead horse like a living one. Let us hope that mysterious, ancient Revelation brings a miracle…”
“Whether this is sin or redemption… that is for the Holy See to judge in the days to come. Let us pray we do not betray the authority that the Holy See has entrusted to us.”
Marco also gave his affirmation. At that moment, atop a sub-class Saint Steel Vessel of the Court of Secrets amidst the storm and snow of Frisland's skies, Artcheli—no longer affected by divine influence and heading toward Aransdel—glanced at the transmission from Holy Mount. Her lip twitched ever so slightly.
“That girl… what kind of scheme is she pulling this time…”
Having already guessed the culprit behind the document, Artcheli barely hesitated before giving her approval.
And with that, the greatest decision-making body of the Church since the Ascension of the Pontiff—the Cardinal Council—convened in emergency session and unanimously approved the document prepared by Dorothy.
In that document, the Radiance Church acknowledged that the Radiant Savior was not born from nothing—that He had a father, one even greater, a being who wielded the powers of both light and shadow. And the secret Saintess once privately venerated by the Court of Secrets was now recognized as the Queen of the Night Sky, affirmed as the Savior’s sister.
The Radiant Savior and the Queen of the Night Sky—both were divine children of that great father…
But here was the crucial detail: in this divine genealogy now acknowledged by the Radiance Church, the Queen of the Night Sky also had a divine child—a mysterious daughter...
…
“It is time…”
Far from the city outskirts of Aransdel, atop a towering cliff battered by wind and snow, Dorothy stood solemn and composed, her gaze fixed northward toward the raging sea and the horizon of endless white stretching toward the sky.
Standing on what the locals called Dragon Severance Cliff, Dorothy silently watched as countless undead spirits floated north across Dragon Severance Bay, then closed her eyes.
In the hush of the storm, she focused her mind and began to channel the most powerful force she could freely command—the divinity of Revelation, granted to her as the Heaven’s Arbiter. Around her, violet motes of light began to shimmer.
“O my mother… Source of the Night Sky…”
As Dorothy murmured, the violet motes gradually turned silver. At this moment, she resembled how she once armed Anna with the Heroic Spirit Armament—drawing upon the laws of theology through her divine authority to channel power into the physical world.
But this time, the juridical interface Dorothy chose… was herself. And the target she linked to… was the greatest institution of this world: the Radiance Church—or more precisely, its direct predecessor… the Third Epoch Empire.
The Earth Grievance Ritual required the souls of those killed by the Radiance Church as sacrificial triggers. Yet the ancient undead now summoned by the Nether Coffin Order had lived in the age before the Radiance Church—in the early Third Epoch. They should have no connection to Radiance. So why did they qualify?
Dorothy could think of only one answer: these ancient North Sea spirits, once loyal to Inut the Great, had in some sense also perished at the hands of Radiance—just not the Radiance of this age…
Indeed, according to history, the undead of the Frisland Hall of War Spirits were warriors who perished in Emperor Inut’s long war against the King of Light. They died at the hands of the Empire of the King of Light! If the Third Epoch Empire of the King of Light was the progenitor of the Fourth Epoch Radiance Church… If the Church was the Empire’s prolonged dominion over the world, then it all made sense.
The Nether Coffin Order could use those ancient North Sea warriors as sacrifices for the ritual because they died fighting the Empire, the source of the Church. And the Nation of Night… might be another remnant of that Empire.
Now, through the Church’s official recognition of the divine genealogy, Dorothy dramatically strengthened the theological bond between herself, the Church, and the Empire—and then used the divinity of the Heaven’s Arbiter to draw power from that vast triune theological complex: Empire–Nation of Night–Church.
And the target she sought to draw from… was the origin of that towering juridical construct.
“O source of my blood… my great grandfather… As this frigid calamity returns once more… grant me, through this body of mine, the glory of thy majestic deeds!”
In the howling wind and snow, Dorothy called out to the wintry night with resounding voice—and in that moment, the silver motes around her turned golden.
BOOM!
The thick clouds above shattered apart. A brilliant golden radiance burst forth, scattering the storm and extreme cold, piercing from heaven to earth, and shone directly upon Dragon Severance Cliff, enveloping Dorothy in divine light.
Snow melted instantly around her. Across the entire region of Aransdel, the freezing winds ceased at once. Out on the distant sea, the undead dragon suddenly halted its soul-summoning cry—even without Fabrizio’s command—and turned southward, letting out a roar that made Fabrizio’s heart tremble.
“What?!”
“ROAR!!!”
The dragon’s roar unleashed a terrifying snowstorm. It froze vast swathes of sea in its path and surged southward at incredible speed. But just as it reached Dragon Severance Bay, it collided with an invisible barrier—completely dissipating without a trace, unable to breach the divine brilliance radiating from Dragon Severance Cliff.
Bathed in that radiance, Dorothy’s form began to change dramatically. Her clothes faded, her body grew taller, maturing by what seemed like three or four years. Then a new divine garment materialized around her, transforming her appearance entirely.
Golden ornaments adorned her body: elegant gauntlets on her hands, lavish earrings below her ears, and various gold accessories hanging from silken ribbons at her waist. Silk adorned with mysterious script hung from the ribbons, cascading downward. Combined with golden scales resembling armor, they formed a loose skirt that revealed bare feet beneath.
Above the hips—across the waist, arms, and shoulders—her upper body was nearly fully exposed, save for a circle of gold scales covering her now fully developed chest. Her snow-white skin was etched with intricate patterns, flowing with silvery light.
Her now more mature and striking face bore golden eyes, no longer crimson. Her long silver-white hair had become radiant, burnished gold, lifting gently in the air with confidence.
In that moment, Dorothy’s divine figure—resplendent and solemn—exuded a sacred majesty laced with a touch of wild, primeval power. She raised her hand, waving away the divine light that cloaked her.
And at the same time, from the eastern horizon, the light of dawn surged forth, breaking through the heavy clouds. The cold was swept away, and morning sunlight once more illuminated the land of Aransdel.
In that radiant dawn, Dorothy gazed toward the frigid north, still shrouded in darkness, and murmured softly.
“I am… the blood of Hyperion…”