Southern Main Continent, Bainlair.
In the dead of night, deep within the ruined outskirts of Whitelinburg—Bainlair’s capital—an extremely important ritual had entered its most critical moment. A journey of great peril was about to begin.
"Rise..."
With Whitestone’s voice echoing across the empty ruins, the massive rock spear embedded deep in the spatial fissure above began to tremble slightly. As every rune upon its surface lit up, the spear gradually lifted upward, pulling itself free from the rift.
At last, the colossal stone spear fully withdrew from the fissure. The terrifying spatial crack it had pinned began to close and heal—but just then, the surrounding ritual array surged in brightness, halting the closure completely. The rift stabilized with a low hum, its interior aglow with shifting, mysterious lights.
"The entrance and the initial passage are now stabilized. You may proceed."
Whitestone’s voice echoed once more. Dorothy, already fully prepared, glanced at her companions and said:
"Let’s go, everyone."
As soon as Dorothy finished speaking, Artcheli leapt gracefully into the rift. Aldrich followed after adjusting the brim of his hat. The mummified Setut, already possessing his own corpse, grumbled as he stepped forward,
"Don’t rush, you irreverent fools! This is a pilgrimage—wear your charms properly!"
Muttering and reminding them, Setut too stepped into the fissure. Vania followed quietly after a prayer, and Nephthys rolled her shoulder with a sigh.
"Let’s get this over with. I still need to get back and shower..."
Originally planning to bathe at the hotel, Nephthys had been caught in one unexpected event after another. As she stepped into the rift with a hint of grumbling, Dorothy also prepared to follow. But just then, Yellowstone, who had been silently watching from nearby, spoke up.
"Divine Child, once inside, please pay attention to the omen staff. It can sense dangers in the inner realm’s space-time—if you feel it emit a negative warning, avoid that direction at once to prevent unnecessary trouble. It can also sense noteworthy things. If it gives a positive signal, follow that direction to investigate."
"Noteworthy things…"
Dorothy's eyes lit up slightly with interest. She asked.
"And what kind of things would be considered noteworthy?"
"That I’m not quite sure of myself… Likely things that are helpful to your mission."
Yellowstone answered mildly. Dorothy looked again at the somewhat worn brass staff in her hand and responded.
"Thank you for the warning."
With that, she too leapt into the rift, vanishing from the ruined wasteland. Only Whitestone—unseen—and Yellowstone with Rudolf remained, gazing at the glowing ritual array.
Staring into the rift, Yellowstone took a deep breath, a trace of worry crossing his face.
"May they return safely..."
…
This was not Dorothy’s first time entering the inner realm. She had once delved deep into it alongside Inut during the confrontation with the King of the Underworld. But that time, they traveled by leaping between realms. This time, she had a direct passage—a tremendous time-saver.
Multicolored currents flowed around her, fragments of blurry imagery flashing past as Dorothy flew rapidly through the surreal tunnel-space, heading straight for its predetermined destination.
After flying an indeterminate time, something unfamiliar came into view. Focusing her gaze, Dorothy saw a vast floating temple suspended within the tunnel. A grand central hall sat at its heart, with four sub-halls floating at its corners. Countless statues and levitating stones surrounded the structure, its architectural style clearly of ancient North Ufigan origin—it was unmistakably a First Dynasty ruin.
Though the ruins intrigued her, Dorothy didn’t stop. She shot straight over them, eyes fixed forward. This was not her destination.
Eventually, the radiant currents around her began to dim, the image fragments thinning out—signs the passage was nearing its end.
Finally, crossing some invisible threshold, Dorothy emerged from the tunnel space and stopped in shock.
Before her stretched an endless expanse, like the depths of space, filled with faint purple mist. It seeped into every corner of the vastness, and within the mist floated countless massive entities.
These beings were soft and ribbon-like, long and drifting upward from unseen depths far below—like gigantic strands of seaweed rising from an abyss. They were arranged in patterns, gently swaying, surrounding the travelers from every direction. The sight was haunting, vast, and strangely oceanic—yet utterly alien.
"This place… What even is this…? It looks kind of creepy…"
Not far from Dorothy, Nephthys had also exited the tunnel and now stared at the scene with concern. Artcheli, on the other hand, replied gravely.
"This is the end of the passage… It feels like a very deep part of the inner realm. I’ve never seen anything like it."
"That’s normal. This is the Forbidden Domain of the Divine Throne—a region intimately connected to the Divine Mentor. Even during the Holy Dynasty’s time, this place was a forbidden land beyond my reach," Setut said, scanning the strange realm with an odd glint in his eyes.
Aldrich, having also arrived, murmured.
"That ruin we passed in the tunnel… was that from the First Dynasty as well?"
"Indeed. That was the Audience Hall. In the old days, pilgrims of the Holy Dynasty only ever made it that far. Beyond that was the restricted zone," Setut explained.
After gazing at the eerie space for a while, Vania asked hesitantly.
"This place is huge… How are we supposed to find the evil god’s lair in here?"
Setut paused to consider.
"‘The Throne of Fate stands atop the mountain of history’s fragments’—an ancient legend about the Throne of Fate. We may be able to glean clues from that…"
While speaking, he turned to look at Dorothy. Suspended in the shadowy space, she appeared to be sensing something.
"Follow me..."
With that, Dorothy began gliding swiftly through the mists. In this realm, no additional powers were needed to float freely. The others quickly followed.
As they swam through the lavender fog, Dorothy headed in a clear direction—led by the divine flame of her Heaven’s Arbiter divinity.
Indeed, from the moment she entered this realm, she had felt her Heaven’s Arbiter divinity grow increasingly active. The divine flame within her seemed to be drawn toward something, tilting and stretching subtly in one direction. Dorothy surmised this was the Throne of Fate calling to her divinity.
Whether intentional or not, the divine throne naturally drew in matching divinities. All Dorothy had to do was follow that pull.
Guided by her own divinity, Dorothy led the team swiftly onward. Soon, they neared the silhouette of a massive "kelp-like" form drifting upward from below. As they approached, they finally pierced through the obscuring mist and saw it clearly.
It was not seaweed at all. It was…
A vast, ruined scroll.
Towering up from an unseen abyss, it extended for countless meters in length and hundreds in width—a gargantuan scroll more immense and majestic than the tallest skyscraper Dorothy had ever seen in her previous life.
This enormous scroll—far too vast for even the tallest giants to use—was utterly ruined. It was torn, slashed, scorched, and heavily creased throughout. Over half of its surface had already decayed to the point of vanishing, while the remaining portion was marred with stains. The few surviving fragments of writing or illustrations were violently struck through with thick, bold lines, as if erased by a colossal pen matching the scroll’s scale. Despite its sheer size, the scroll conveyed no coherent information. A document in this state belonged more in a waste bin than in any archive.
“What the heck… What a massive scroll. Who even uses something this big? And they didn’t even bother to preserve it—it’s completely wrecked…”
Nephthys muttered in amazement. Nearby, Aldrich added.
“You really can see anything in the inner realm, huh…”
Dorothy studied the ruined scroll, then looked out at the hazy outlines of countless other drifting ribbon-like objects in the mist—some near, some far. She wondered if they were all like this ruined scroll. When she turned toward Setut for insight, she saw genuine confusion in his eyes. It was clear he didn’t know either.
Dorothy was about to bypass the giant scroll and continue following the pull of her divinity deeper into the realm—when suddenly, the brass staff in her hand let out a sharp, grating screech that made everyone instinctively flinch.
“What happened?”
Artcheli asked seriously, eyeing the staff in Dorothy’s hand.
Dorothy furrowed her brow and answered gravely.
“It’s the omen staff—Yellowstone’s gift. It’s issuing a warning. Something’s coming.”
She looked toward the direction the staff pointed, sensing both the incoming danger’s approach and its trajectory.
“Then what do we do? Engage or evade?”
Vania asked worriedly.
Dorothy analyzed swiftly, then responded in a low voice.
“We don’t know if Hafdar and the others have realized we’re pursuing them. If we attack now, we might alert them. Whitestone also warned us not to act before locating the false god…”
“So you’re suggesting we avoid it?”
Artcheli followed up. Dorothy nodded.
“Yes. But it’s approaching fast. If we all try to escape together, we likely won’t make it.”
“Then what now? We can’t fight, and we can’t flee?”
Setut asked gravely.
Dorothy turned her gaze to the giant ruined scroll before them.
“We hide.”
“Hide?”
Everyone was surprised by her proposal.
“Follow me!”
Without waiting, Dorothy darted toward the colossal scroll. She placed her palm against it, and instantly, a glowing circular portal opened at her touch. After sensing something within, she dove inside.
The others hesitated briefly, then quickly followed her into the scroll.
Once they were inside, the portal sealed behind them, and the outside returned to silence.
Inside the scroll, a muddled, chaotic void greeted them. After passing through this disorienting haze for a while, the world suddenly cleared—and a new landscape appeared.
No longer adrift in illusion, Dorothy felt solid ground beneath her feet. Before her stretched a vast, mirror-like lake. In the distance were tall trees, and beyond them, the sky glowed with the amber hues of a setting sun dipping below the horizon. The lake reflected the twilight in stunning clarity—it was a breathtaking sight.
The scenery didn’t resemble the inner realm at all—it looked more like the real world.
As the others stepped in behind her and beheld the scene, they froze.
“This… where are we…?”
“Is this still the inner realm?”
Even Artcheli showed visible surprise. Setut turned toward Dorothy, silently seeking answers, and she, too, wore an expression of stunned curiosity.
“I felt I could interact with the scroll… open it… and I sensed something inside… so I tried,” Dorothy said calmly.
When she’d approached the scroll earlier, her Heaven’s Arbiter divinity had detected another domain hidden within it—one with a strangely familiar resonance. She had followed that pull and entered.
“Ah! Sister Vania—what happened to your appearance?”
“Wait… Miss Nephthys… you look… different too…”
Suddenly, startled voices rang out among the group. Dorothy turned and witnessed a strange sight.
Vania and Nephthys were staring at each other in shock—each reacting to the other’s transformation.
Vania was no longer in her white nun’s habit. Instead, she now wore a long white robe embroidered with golden patterns and symbols. Though they bore some resemblance to Radiance Church motifs, they were clearly from a different tradition. Her nun’s cap was gone, revealing waist-length platinum hair, and—most noticeably—her ears had become long and pointed, clearly inhuman. A silver necklace hung at her neck, and in her hand was a wooden staff carved with intricate runes. She looked like a priestess from an ancient faith.
Nephthys, too, was transformed. She wore a sleek gown adorned with starlight motifs and unfamiliar accessories. Her ears had also become elongated and pointed.
“Our appearances changed… Wait—it’s not just you. I’ve changed too…”
Artcheli frowned, glancing down at herself. She now wore a set of finely engraved, elegantly slim light armor. Reaching up, she discovered her ears had also lengthened.
“Uh… is this happening to everyone?”
Nephthys asked, scanning the group.
Dorothy stepped quickly to the lakeside and looked at her reflection. Her outfit had changed into a pure white dress. The boots she had worn were now silver-threaded sandals. A silver circlet rested on her brow, her features more delicate, her stature seemingly taller—and her ears were longer, too.
The appearance was familiar to Dorothy.
“Elves… We’ve all taken on the form of elves, like those from ancient mystic histories,” came Aldrich’s voice.
Now dressed in a brown robe, his formerly aged features were smooth and regal. He looked decades younger, handsome and refined. His voice had lost its rasp, and his ears, too, had lengthened—leaving the others stunned.
“You… you’re that old guy? How’d you get so young?! And what exactly are elves?”
Nephthys exclaimed.
A low, gravelly voice answered her.
“Elves… were a powerful alien civilization in the south during the Second Epoch. Their cities spanned the southern continent and even reached across the Sea of Chasms. They frequently allied—and clashed—with the Holy Dynasty…”
The speaker was Setut, cloaked in black, his face hidden. He turned to look toward a distant part of the landscape and said solemnly.
“Like here—Lakeshine City, one of the elves’ great northern strongholds…”
The group turned to where Setut was looking. In the heart of a vast forest stood an enormous tree that pierced the heavens. Floating around it were shimmering runes and tall, slender towers. The towers clustered thickly around the tree and were linked by countless winding tracks, all spiraling outward from the tree like spokes of a wheel. Vania, with her keen eyesight, could even see strange vehicles racing along those tracks.
However, perhaps due to the season, many of the tree’s leaves had yellowed and fallen. Its bare branches stood stark against the sky.
“That… that’s a huge tree! And what kind of city is that?! It’s gigantic!”
“That tree… it looks like the ones in the Redemption Cathedral…”
Vania and Nephthys gasped in awe. Setut, standing still, replied gravely.
“That is Aeris—one of the saplings of the Verdant Crown Ma’ar of the Skies. It is the foundation of Lakeshine City. All major elven cities were built atop branches of the World Tree… though this one’s condition looks rather dire…”
“Elves… an extinct ancient race? Then does that mean we’ve somehow arrived in the Second Epoch?”
Artcheli asked in shock.
Setut shook his head.
“No… we haven’t traveled back in time. This is indeed Lakeshine City, but it’s not the one I remember. I once visited it, and the city then was smaller, cruder than what we see now.
“The Lakeshine City I knew was destroyed along with the entire elven empire by the endless beast tide from the eastern plains. There’s no way it could have developed to this extent.”
Setut fell silent in thought. Aldrich then asked curiously.
“If this isn’t the Lakeshine City you knew… then what is this place?”
Setut didn’t answer directly. Instead, he turned toward Dorothy—who remained silent, eyes fixed on the surreal vista ahead.
The city before Dorothy—or more accurately, the world she now stood within—gave her a strange sense of familiarity. She had felt something very similar once before, in Busalet…
Yes—a world of false history.
This realm felt strikingly similar to the illusory histories she had experienced in the past. Not entirely identical, but the resemblance was undeniable.
As Dorothy carefully analyzed her surroundings, a distant voice suddenly called out. It was a language she had never heard before—yet somehow, she could understand it perfectly.
“Hey, you lot over there—what are you doing?”
The group turned toward the sound. From the far side of the field, several fully armored elven guards carrying long weapons approached. They appeared to be the natives of this world.
“It’s nearly nightfall. Get back inside the city immediately—if you get caught by the Shadow Wraiths, it’ll be a threat to all of Lakeshine City!”
The elf guards, clearly functioning as patrolmen or sentinels, issued stern warnings. Artcheli raised an eyebrow and asked.
“Shadow Wraiths? What are those?”
“Evil things that stalk the night and turn any creature they catch into their puppets! Is that the sort of basic knowledge I need to teach you brats all over again? Move it! If you don’t want to end up like Bluewave, every citizen must obey the rules!”
After repeating their warning, the elf guards turned and left. Artcheli watched them go, fuming, then turned to the contemplative Setut.
“Shadow Wraiths? Never heard of such a thing… And didn’t they mention Bluewave City got wiped out? Because of these wraiths?”
Setut fell silent in deep thought. Meanwhile, Vania turned to Dorothy and asked.
“Miss Dorothea, what do we do now? Should we head into that Lakeshine City and investigate?”
Dorothy considered the question, then looked at the brass omen staff in her hand.
“I do want to understand what’s happening here… but time is short. We have more urgent matters to handle.
“I can already feel through the staff that the danger outside—whatever it was—has passed. We avoided it. We can leave now.”
Setut nodded in agreement.
“I concur. This place is certainly strange, but we don’t have time to investigate slowly. The priority is still dealing with the Young One.”
Thus, the group agreed—they would not linger in the mysterious elven world. Their focus remained on their original mission.
Dorothy then activated her Heaven’s Arbiter divinity, interacting with the space around her. Before long, a circular portal appeared. With Dorothy in the lead, the group passed through and exited the world.
After a brief blur of motion, they emerged once more into the mist-filled inner realm—where soft purple fog drifted endlessly, and long ribbon-like shapes floated in the distance. The massive scroll they had hidden in was still there, still just as tattered and ruined. As they stepped out of the elven scroll, their clothing reverted to normal, and their pointed elven ears vanished.
“Oh… we changed back again after leaving…”
Nephthys observed curiously.
Dorothy cast one final glance at the scroll, then resumed her journey. Guided by the pull of her Heaven’s Arbiter divinity, she led the group deeper into the mist.
How long they traveled was uncertain, but eventually, the omen staff let out another sharp warning tone.
“It’s happening again…”
“Hmph. That gadget from the White Craftsmen’s Guild is surprisingly sensitive. Wonder what kind of Church tech is embedded in it,” Artcheli muttered as she eyed the brass staff.
“So the Church and the Guild really are collaborating deeply,” Dorothy thought.
“If this staff’s that precise, I wonder if the Guild has a way to speed up the Staff of Radiant Decree’s charge time. If I had that now, things would be much easier…”
After sensing the speed of the approaching “threat,” Dorothy issued her command.
“Same plan as before. Let’s find a place to hide.”
She flew toward the nearest floating ribbon in the mist, which soon became clearer. It was yet another massive floating scroll—like the one before, enormous, dilapidated, and largely illegible. Most of its remaining text was either crossed out or defaced.
Just like before, Dorothy pressed her hand to the surface, invoked her Heaven’s Arbiter divinity, and opened an entrance. The group followed her inside.
Exiting the indistinct passage, Dorothy felt solid ground beneath her feet once more and immediately scanned her surroundings—this was not the elven world.
She had entered an entirely new realm.
A bamboo forest at night.
Dense groves of bamboo stretched beyond sight. The chilly night wind rustled through the leaves, producing a soft whispering sound. A light fog clung to the ground, and the air felt oppressively cold—as if countless spirits were weeping faintly in the dark.
“This temperature… something’s off…”
Dorothy instinctively hugged herself. Then she realized something: her clothing had changed again. Looking down, she saw wide, greenish-blue sleeves draped over her arms.
“Wide sleeves?”
She promptly retrieved a full-body mirror from her mostly unchanged magical case, manipulating its metal fittings to hover before her.
What she saw was… an entirely different version of herself.
Dorothy now wore a pale blue dress, modest yet elegant, with a crossed lapel and a flowing skirt tied by a delicately patterned sash. Beneath the neckline, a faint inner garment peeked out. The skirt’s hem was embroidered with constellations, and over her white attire she wore a translucent purple outer robe. Her silver hair was pinned up intricately, with strands falling gracefully around her shoulders. Bronze hairpins adorned with flying birds and cloud patterns decorated her hair. On her feet were white socks and cloth shoes.
“This outfit is…”
Dorothy blinked in surprise. Behind her, chatter erupted.
“Whoa! Our clothes changed again! This looks amazing!”
“What is this outfit?”
Turning around, Dorothy saw the others examining their new appearances.
Nephthys now wore a dazzling red gown adorned with gold and silver beads. A veil covered her head, and her hair was braided into long strands tied with colorful ribbons. Tiny bells hung from her clothing, jingling as she moved. Her arms and midriff were bare—she looked like a desert dancer from an exotic faraway land.
Artcheli, on the other hand, wore a cloak made of woven grass, a broad hat shielding her face. Beneath the cloak, she was clad entirely in black. Her sword now bore crescent moon patterns, and she exuded the air of a silent, deadly assassin.
“Wait… what am I even wearing…?”
Vania was inspecting herself too. She now wore plain white robes layered with a light-colored kasaya. A cloth wrapped her hair, and in her hand she held a vajra scepter. She looked every bit the image of a Buddhist nun.
“It seems… each time we enter these spaces, we undergo a kind of ‘assimilation’...”
Aldrich remarked, now dressed in a gray scholar’s robe and wearing a formal headpiece.
A raspy voice followed.
“Indeed. And I’ve identified the cause—it’s the Divine Mentor charms. I felt a mystical reaction when we entered. It seems their function is to help us integrate into these alternate worlds more easily.”
Setut spoke in a low, grave tone. At that moment, he wore a tattered black robe, his mummified body exposed beneath it, covered in yellow charms. The sight was eerie and unsettling.
“So… the transformations we undergo upon entering these realms are caused by the traditional charms of Heaven’s Arbiter? But what’s the point of such a feature?”
Dorothy examined her charm in her hand as she spoke.
Nephthys then chimed in.
“Then where exactly are we now? That last realm was the Elven Kingdom—does anyone recognize this place?”
She looked around at the dark bamboo forest, curiosity clear in her voice. But no one responded immediately. Even the eldest among them, Setut, seemed unable to answer.
“If the Divine Mentor’s charm helps us integrate into each space, then our clothing now must reflect that of the local inhabitants… But I’ve never seen a style like this. I really don’t know where we are…
“And the deathly aura here… it’s thick enough to nearly form a spiritual field. Yet this isn’t a mass grave or burial site… It’s strange.”
Setut’s voice remained somber.
Dorothy, meanwhile, stood in a state of restrained thought—she clearly knew something, but didn’t yet know how to explain it. Just then, Artcheli suddenly turned her head sharply, her expression grim.
“There’s blood in the air.”
She took off running toward the scent. The others exchanged glances and quickly followed.
Soon, they reached the edge of the bamboo grove, where a tall cliff loomed. Below lay a churning sea of clouds. At the cliff’s edge stood a decayed octagonal pavilion.
Within it, Artcheli had found the source of the blood: a young man in yellow robes, a crown upon his head, black hair disheveled. He lay unconscious in the pavilion’s center, blood soaking through his chest. A traditional Chinese-style longsword lay fallen by his side.
“That’s him… Not dead, but close,” Artcheli remarked coldly.
Vania quickly stepped forward.
“Let me handle this!”
She knelt beside the young man and began healing him with her abilities while examining his condition.
“He’s stable… I can save him. It looks like he was attacked by something with a Silence attribute. The physical wound is serious, but the spirit erosion is worse… Was it a corpse ghoul or something similar?”
As she treated him, the young man suddenly began coughing violently.
“Cough… cough… cough…”
“Thank goodness… he’s waking up so soon!”
Vania said with relief.
The man’s eyes opened slowly, and he muttered weakly. Though he spoke an unfamiliar language, everyone could still understand it perfectly.
“I… I’m not dead?”
“Please don’t move too much. Your wounds could reopen. Just rest a moment,” Vania said earnestly.
The man blinked at her, then chuckled in surprise.
“Hah… So that’s what happened. I was saved by a holy nun from the Radiant Sect. Hah… hahahaha! The heavens do not abandon Lu Yi! Even ambushed by a Yinluo Corpse, I survived!”
As he laughed and tried to sit up, Vania hurried to stop him.
“Wait—please rest a bit more!”
“Disciple Lu Yi of the Cloud Refinement Valley thanks this little sister for saving my life! I am forever indebted!”
He knelt in gratitude before Vania, startling her.
“Ah—please don’t do that! Get up! You’re still injured… And wait—did you just call me ‘little sister nun’?”
She helped Lu Yi up in confusion. The rest of the group looked on, puzzled, except for Dorothy, who sighed slightly before asking.
“You’re Lu Yi, disciple of Cloud Refinement Valley?”
Lu Yi looked toward her and finally noticed the rest of the group.
“Yes. I’m the 74th-generation disciple of the Cloud Refinement Sect, student of Daoist Huanglong. I assume you’ve heard of my master…”
As he glanced at Dorothy’s group, his expression grew more astonished.
“Disciples of Douxing Sect… the Moonshade Cult… and the Radiant Sect… so many sects gathered? You must be on your way to the Hongxiao Summit!”
His gaze locked onto Setut.
“Did you capture that ghost creature on the way? Be careful—these things are devious and dangerous. If you slip up, the consequences can be dire…”
“Hongxiao Summit? What’s that?”
Nephthys asked, confused.
But Dorothy cut in before she could finish.
“Indeed. That’s precisely why we’re here. And you must be heading there as well?”
“Correct. The Youxuan Sect has stirred up the Underworld, defying life and death, summoning sinister deities—every sect has a duty to strike them down! The Hongxiao Summit is being held so that all righteous sects can form an alliance to destroy Youxuan. My master and I were on our way when I was ambushed by corpse spirits and separated from my companions. I should be at the summit already…”
He paused for a moment, then offered.
“Since you're also heading to the summit, why don’t we travel together?”
Dorothy declined politely.
“That might not be possible. We still have other matters to handle regarding… the captured ghost creature. We can’t join you for now.”
As she spoke, Setut shot her a sharp glare. Lu Yi nodded in understanding.
“I see… Then I’ll go on ahead. I owe you all my life—should we meet again at Hongxiao Summit, I’ll repay the favor in full!”
He bowed to Vania and Dorothy, picked up his sword, and mounted it. The blade transformed into a streak of light that shot into the sky, disappearing quickly into the distance.
Dorothy watched the streak vanish, silent.
“So… Miss Dorothy, where exactly are we?”
Nephthys asked, staring off after the departing figure.
Dorothy paused, clearly deep in thought, before replying quietly.
“Hard to say… I’m not yet sure.”
She then turned her attention back to the brass omen staff in her hand.
“Alright. We’re leaving. This isn’t the place I’m meant to stay in.”
“Huh? Already? Wait, Miss Dorothy—can we at least take a photo before we go? These outfits are way too pretty to waste!”
Nephthys pleaded.
Dorothy rolled her eyes.
“We didn’t bring a camera.”
“Heh. Don’t worry—I’ve got a few puppets that come with photo-taking functions,” Aldrich added with a smile.
Dorothy could only sigh and shrug in resignation.
At last, after Aldrich's magical puppets quickly snapped a few photos for the group, Dorothy once again opened a spatial portal and left the strange dimension behind. As Setut departed last, he glanced toward the dark clouds in the distance—within them, it seemed as if he could see the faces of countless dead, howling in agony.
Finally, without further delay, Setut stepped into the portal and returned to the vast expanse of misty purple fog. He continued flying alongside Dorothy, and before long, he moved beside her and spoke in a low tone.
“That realm we just entered… those worlds inside the scrolls—what’s your opinion of them?”
Dorothy fell silent for a moment before answering, focused and calm.
“I have a few theories, but I still need more evidence to confirm them.”
“I see…”
Setut murmured and then fell quiet again.
Dorothy resumed following the guidance of her divinity, continuing her journey through the foggy expanse. After an unknown amount of time, the brass omen staff in her hand flared with another warning.
“Here it comes again… everyone, prepare.”
Dorothy’s voice was serious as she called out, and the group quickly flew to the nearest ruined scroll. Dorothy opened an entrance on its surface, and they entered swiftly.
But the moment Dorothy set foot in this new world, her brows immediately furrowed.
“Ah… What happened here?!”
Nephthys gasped. They found themselves inside a tightly sealed chamber made entirely of metal—like the interior of a ship or base. A dim ceiling light flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow on the scene below.
It was a slaughterhouse.
Blood smeared the metal walls, several overturned beds lay scattered about, severed limbs and organs splattered across the floor—it was horrific.
“Is this a fetal slaughter chamber? No… doesn’t look like one…”
Artcheli muttered with a grim expression.
Meanwhile, Nephthys looked down at her clothes and commented.
“This new outfit is really form-fitting. Not exactly pretty, but surprisingly comfortable. And it looks like everyone’s wearing the same thing this time.”
Dorothy turned her attention to their attire. Everyone now wore tight gray uniforms—long sleeves, long pants, boots. No decoration. Uniforms—just like the corpses on the floor.
Most striking, however, was Setut.
Gone was his mummified form. He now appeared as a mechanical skeleton made of jet-black steel—intricately linked with fine machinery. A cold blue soul-fire flickered in his eye sockets. Even Aldrich couldn't help but stare curiously.
“Fascinating…”
Setut flexed his steel fingers and marveled, then turned his gaze to a nearby wall. A mechanical sliding door slowly opened.
“We’re inside a massive mechanical structure. If we go further, we should learn more.”
They stepped into a long corridor—also covered in blood and corpses. But it wasn’t empty.
Monsters.
Roughly a meter long, grey-red insectoid creatures that resembled mutated locusts were feasting on the corpses. Three or four of them turned when Dorothy’s group entered, shrieking and charging.
Artcheli responded instantly, drawing her sword and slicing them to pieces mid-air.
“These must be the killers. They feel like constructs of the Chalice domain…”
Vania speculated, while Setut narrowed his eyes.
“Perhaps. This whole place… it’s likely a ship. These were its crew. I don’t know how it happened, but the insects invaded, and now… no one’s left alive.”
He glanced toward the end of the corridor.
“Let’s check the control room. We might find something useful.”
Setut led the way, opening every door along their path. Dorothy and the others followed.
“A spaceship… So we went from cultivation to sci-fi now?”
Dorothy muttered as they walked. Along the way, they were attacked by more insects, but they were easily dispatched. Eventually, they reached the bridge.
It was a large room with bright lights and walls filled with control panels and displays. Countless data streams and images flickered across them. In the center, a massive screen showed colorful, blurred light speeding past—like they were still mid-jump through inner space.
There were no survivors. Only chewed-up corpses. More insects swarmed them upon entry, but none posed a threat.
“So this… is the ship’s command center? Fascinating… It seems we’re still in transit through the inner realm.”
Aldrich looked around, his eyes shining with interest.
“You mean… this ship’s still flying? But everyone’s dead, and it’s full of bugs—how is it still moving?”
Nephthys asked.
Aldrich paused, then ran his hand over a console.
“Must be running on autopilot…”
“Autopilot?!”
Nephthys echoed, stunned.
Suddenly, a cold, genderless voice rang out over the bridge.
“Autopilot complete. Exiting hyperspace travel. Welcome to Eden III, the final sanctuary amid the Doomsday Swarm.”
The ship trembled violently. Everyone staggered. Nephthys gasped.
“What’s going on?!”
“The ship is exiting inner realm—returning to the ‘real world,’ or rather… what passes for the real world in this realm,” Setut answered.
The trembling ceased. On the central screen, the swirling colors disappeared—replaced by an astonishing scene.
Dorothy’s mouth dropped open.
A planet—a stunning blue world suspended in the void of space. But orbiting it… wasn’t a typical ring system.
It was insects.
Countless bloated insectoid monstrosities, each over a kilometer long, covered in tumors and writhing tendrils, formed a grotesque ring around the planet. The largest among them—a colossal hive mother—was surrounded by swarms of smaller flying guardian bugs, encircling the planet like a living ring.
From orbit, the hive ships vomited billions of landing capsules toward the planet’s surface. Green spores and mists rapidly devoured the atmosphere. A third of the once-blue planet had already turned green.
Occasional defense beams fired from the surface—only to be intercepted. Planetary gun platforms vanished under a deluge of bio-bombs.
“Warning… Unable to contact spaceport… Warning… Unable to contact spaceport… Please initiate manual landing protocol…”
The ship AI repeated its alerts, but no one listened. Everyone stared at the screen in mute horror.
“What… what is this?”
Vania whispered, trembling.
Dorothy answered gravely.
“This… is the doomsday.”
BOOM!
Suddenly, the entire ship shook violently. Monitors shattered. Lights went out. Walls warped.
One of the nearby guardian bugs had noticed them. It clamped down on the civilian ship with its massive pincers and began tearing it apart.
The ship exploded. But in that final moment, Dorothy’s group escaped—Artcheli slashed open a portal, and Vania blessed everyone with divine protection. They emerged into open space.
And then—thunder roared. Dorothy unleashed a blinding bolt of divine lightning, incinerating the guardian bug that destroyed the ship.
But the commotion had drawn the attention of the swarm. Countless bugs turned and rushed toward them. A flood of insects—endless, uncountable.
Dorothy frowned.
“This is… a problem.”
Just as she prepared to fight, everything stopped.
The swarm halted mid-air. The ship’s explosion froze. The bombs, the mists, the rotation of the planet—the entire universe stopped.
Even planetary rotation and galactic orbits ceased.
Time. Reality. Everything was still.
Only Dorothy’s thoughts remained.
And then—she turned, sensing something behind her.
And saw a vision she would never forget.
The stars were moving.
Beyond the galaxy, the stars themselves shifted. Constellations—unchanged for millennia—warped and twisted. Nebulae and galaxies converged.
The cosmos itself… formed an eye.
A colossal eye—built from the stars—opened in the void.
It stared down upon the universe with indifference. It judged all things.
This was the symbol of Revelation. In the First Dynasty, it had another name:
The Eye of Judgment.
It watched the doomsday—and from it came a voice that shook the cosmos.
“This historical line has deviated from the correct path.
“I hereby render judgment.
“History Line 17… invalid.”
And then—the universe was swallowed by light.
Within that light, Dorothy finally understood what this world—and the scroll realm—truly were.
Many scholars of First Dynasty mysticism had long found it odd: “Heaven’s Arbiter” was called an arbiter, yet in myths appeared only as a teacher—never delivering judgment.
But the truth was—what it judged transcended mortal imagination.
The Heaven’s Arbiter judged history itself.
He judged the timelines of the entire universe. Only those deemed correct could continue.
If judged flawed, they were erased. The entire universe reset.
The Divine Throne domain of Heaven’s Arbiter was the dumping ground for discarded histories.
Each ruined scroll… was a severed timeline.
That realm of scrolls was the scrap heap of history.
Heaven’s Arbiter…
Was the Arbiter of History and Fate.