In the depths of the inner realm, in a forgotten corner of the shattered world’s history, the curtain had barely risen on a great battle—only to fall abruptly.
“What… just happened?”
Amidst the ruins of a vast urban cluster, Aldrich stood atop his golem, gazing at the scene before him in confusion.
Opposite his golem forces, the undead legion that had once stood in fierce opposition was now rapidly collapsing. Bodies built from massive bones were losing the power that held them together, scattering into heaps like toppled towers.
He hadn’t even gone all out—yet the enemy simply crumbled. Questions swirled across Aldrich’s bewildered face. Not daring to lower his guard against that sly old opponent, he stayed alert, ready for a sudden ambush amid the crumbling din.
But his caution was unnecessary. In the swirling dust of collapse, Deer Skull, who stood atop the massive stag skull, was completely still—his vacant eyes staring upward toward the sky, meeting the gaze of the immense purple eye overhead.
“Your Excellency… these things seem to have just… stopped…”
Elsewhere in the city, Vania—who had been praying—spoke in surprise at the changing battlefield. Across from her, Artcheli had also ceased her sword strikes and was now glancing around.
All around her, the once-writhing dark-gold tendrils—twisting up from beneath the earth and the walls—had completely frozen in place, as if they were metallic sculptures.
Artcheli initially kept her guard up, but after confirming that the tendrils truly weren’t moving anymore, her expression relaxed slightly. A strange look passed across her face as she turned her gaze toward the distant high tower, murmuring softly.
“Her side made progress again, huh? And this easily...?”
At the edge of her vision, atop the True Universe Headquarters, the world-selling ritual had completely halted. The blindfolded priestess had collapsed, unmoving. The Dark Coin Noble stood beside her, staring blankly at the purple eye above—which was now slowly beginning to close.
“Huh… they’ve all stopped moving...”
In a frost-covered street, Nephthys—who had only just joined the battle—looked curiously at the now motionless dwarf marionette before her. A quick glance around confirmed that the dark elf and heavy armor marionettes on nearby rooftops had also frozen.
“I just entered the fight… and everything already stopped? What’s going on? Don’t tell me they were scared of me?”
“No... this means something happened on Taharka’s side. He must’ve been interfered with… by a force beyond us.”
Setut, now possessing Nephthys, spoke gravely. Upon hearing this, Nephthys raised an eyebrow.
“A power beyond us? Could it be Miss Dorothy? Hey—look at that! The ritual’s stopped, and the eye in the sky is closing. Looks like Miss Dorothy pulled it off!”
Nephthys exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the slow-closing eye. Setut, however, sounded deeply skeptical.
“She succeeded…? The successor defeated the infant god? No… that’s impossible… It hasn’t even been a few minutes. How could it be over already?”
Setut’s voice was filled with disbelief. In response, Nephthys crossed her arms, speaking with absolute certainty.
“What do you mean, impossible? Are you underestimating Miss Dorothy? To her, no so-called ‘powerful foe’ is a big deal. That infant god—just a brat. If Miss Dorothy can beat fully-grown gods, what’s a little runt to her? What, you think it takes time to beat up a toddler?”
“…”
Chest puffed out, Nephthys spoke as if it were only natural. Setut, silent for a moment, didn’t quite know how to respond.
“We still need to confirm things…”
With that, Setut summoned a modest-sized elemental frost dragon through Nephthys. She leapt onto its back, and with a powerful flap of its wings, they shot skyward.
Soaring above the city, Setut and Nephthys flew swiftly toward the distant tower. But not long into their flight—just as they neared the perimeter of the now-disabled True Universe Headquarters—Setut suddenly sensed something and peered downward. He immediately lowered the frost dragon’s altitude.
Descending, the dragon approached a tall building. Setut slowed it further and then leapt from Nephthys’s body, landing atop the rooftop.
There, lying on the rooftop, was a figure both he and Nephthys knew well.
“This is... real…”
“Hafdar...”
Both Nephthys and Setut stared at the old man lying prone. “Hafdar” was collapsed, gaze blank, staring up at the slowly closing purple eye, speaking to it in an odd tone. A faint violet glow flickered in his eyes.
“So… this is the final trap…? Your plan… it all began here, didn’t it, Osiris...?”
He muttered dully. Nephthys stepped forward to say something, but Setut stopped her. “Hafdar’s” expression then twisted into an eerie grin.
“Hee… heehee… I admit it—I lost. But so what? Your success only grants this rotting world a few more cycles of pitiful survival… In the end… nothing changes...
“No matter how many saviors you drag in from beyond this world, no matter how much foreign power you muster… you can’t change the limited number of variables that can traverse the ‘Cage’… You cannot halt the grand tide… heehee...”
With a deranged smile, the violet glow faded from “Hafdar’s” eyes. His grin slackened, and something seemed to vanish from within him entirely.
Then, stunned, he slowly turned his eyes toward Nephthys—and his voice changed completely.
“Setut...”
“Your time has come, Hafdar.”
Setut’s voice was solemn as he emerged from Nephthys’s body in a spectral form. Hafdar, now weak and fading, responded with a bitter smile.
“Yeah… a time not even worthy of undeath… But to understand the meaning of life before death… that’s something.”
Setut paused. Then, with a quiet sigh, he asked.
“You… were the Divine Mentor’s pawn?”
“And my own. Really… who isn’t a pawn in this world? Even the Divine Mentor can’t escape His own fate.”
Hafdar replied weakly. Setut was about to ask more when Nephthys suddenly interjected.
“Wait… Miss Dorothy says… someone else would like to speak through me for a moment...”
Setut blinked, startled into silence. He watched as Nephthys’s posture shifted—her gaze deepened, her expression softened with sorrow.
“I’m glad… that you could finally slip into oblivion in clarity, Hafdar...”
“Shepsuna?”
Setut’s expression faltered. Hafdar’s voice trembled as he spoke.
“You’re alive… Shepsuna… You escaped back then?!”
“I’m afraid not. That calamity was inescapable. The real Shepsuna is long gone. What stands before you now… is merely a replica will—created through the Revelation Scepter. You didn’t hold back at all, Hafdar...”
Shepsuna’s voice was gentle. Hafdar, shaken, sank into silence. Then, weakly, he murmured.
“That… really is a shame...”
“Indeed. But all things must end… even gods and worlds. Shepsuna’s existence has lasted long enough. To vanish at such a pivotal turn of fate… there’s no need for regret.”
Shepsuna’s tone was serene. Hearing her, Hafdar smiled faintly, whispering his last.
“Just like your original self… always talking about grand things... But that’s fine... it’s fine... I suppose I...”
He tried to go on, but the dim light in his eyes flickered out. His voice fell silent, and no further movement came from his body.
Upon witnessing Hafdar’s condition, both Setut and Shepsuna let out a long sigh, silently bowing their heads with closed eyes. When Setut opened his eyes again, he looked solemnly at Shepsuna and spoke.
“Then now... how should I address you?”
“Just call me Shepsuna, as always—if you don’t mind attributing a familiar name to what’s merely a lingering imprint,” Shepsuna replied with a gentle smile.
Setut, after a brief moment of thought, continued his inquiry.
“Shepsuna... so Hafdar was loyal to the Divine Mentor from the beginning? He wasn’t so far gone that he’d lost all reason?”
“Not quite.”
Shepsuna gave a concise denial before elaborating.
“The madness Hafdar once displayed before us was genuine madness. He truly regarded the infant as the Divine Mentor and was willing to give everything for that belief...
“You must understand, only true madness could win the infant’s trust. That being could peer directly into Hafdar’s mind—he was incapable of scheming before it.”
Shepsuna spoke softly to Setut, explaining the truth. After taking it in, Setut responded seriously.
“So Hafdar truly was mad... but he was also part of the Divine Mentor’s design. Then—his madness was something he created for himself?”
“Exactly~ As far back as seven thousand years ago, after receiving divine revelation, Hafdar chose to shatter his own psyche for the sake of the long-term plan. He laid mental traps within himself and erased his own memory, taking on an unstable, manic guise to face the fall of the Holy Dynasty and the long years entombed in the crypt… until today.”
Shepsuna’s explanation continued. Setut, as if realizing something deeper, added.
“The Divine Mentor assigned Hafdar a fate that would lead to destruction…”
“And Hafdar accepted it willingly… just like my original self once did.”
“The Divine Mentor foresaw the infant’s birth… perhaps even helped bring it about…”
“Indeed. After Viagetta’s departure, the reason the infant was born so swiftly upon the Throne of Fate was because Hafdar, in his madness, conducted countless forbidden experiments over millennia to revive the Divine Mentor. The effects of these experiments accumulated upon the Throne of Fate. When Viagetta departed, the accumulated force erupted, giving birth to the infant in an instant...
“And naturally, the infant saw Hafdar—its own creator—as the most loyal and convenient pawn. It easily misled Hafdar into believing it was the Divine Mentor reborn and took full control over his madness… never realizing it had placed a deadly trap at its side.”
Shepsuna spoke with quiet clarity. Hearing this, Setut continued gravely.
“So… accelerating the infant’s birth was part of the Divine Mentor’s intent? If Hafdar hadn’t gone mad, the infant wouldn’t have formed so quickly. The successor might’ve had more time to seize the Throne of Fate—maybe even taken it before the infant's will emerged…”
“I believe the reason is time,” Shepsuna replied.
Setut asked further.
“Time?”
“Yes. The crisis threatening our world is dire—there isn’t much time left for the successor to grow. To become the new god of Revelation, the successor must collect over ninety percent of the Divine Mentor’s active divinity. The small portion given by Viagetta is nowhere near enough.
“After the Mentor’s fall, most of His divinity fragmented and scattered across countless realms. The successor must gather these fragments one by one—but this task would require enormous time, and the world’s crisis won’t allow for such luxury.
“So, another mechanism of divinity must be used. When a godless throne gives rise to a new deity, it produces a powerful draw, attracting all unanchored Revelation divinity back to the Throne, converging into divine flame for the new god...”
Shepsuna explained with composure. Setut, beginning to grasp the strategy, followed.
“So the Mentor used this feature of the Throne to gather the scattered divinity swiftly for the successor—eliminating the need for time-consuming collection. But in doing so, He also enabled the emergence of a highly dangerous infant god…”
“Yes. But in a sense, the infant was also a test for the successor. To ascend the Throne of Fate, one must have the strength to defeat the infant. I’ve provided some support throughout, but the main burden still lies with the successor’s own strength and wisdom.”
Shepsuna’s tone remained calm. After her explanation, Setut lifted his head and looked toward the slowly closing eye in the sky, murmuring thoughtfully.
“From the looks of it, their struggle has ended. The successor has already triumphed... much faster than I imagined… and far quieter.”
“What one sees is not always what truly transpired. When divine powers of fate clash, even the perception of time becomes uncertain... I suspect their battle may have looked brief, but it was surely far more complex beneath the surface.”
As she spoke, Shepsuna also looked skyward, watching as the purple eye in the heavens finally shut.
“Regardless, the successor has now proven herself beyond question. In this world, nothing else may challenge her claim to the Throne of Fate.
“It won’t be long before we witness… a new Arbiter of this universe’s history.”
…
Beyond the now-shut eye above the heavens, in the stilled divine throne domain, Dorothy—still draped in radiant light—stood atop the base of the Throne of Fate, before the towering stele.
The malformed creature pierced by her light spear had been fully incinerated. The space-rending cries had faded. Even the spirit fragments that tried to flee after abandoning divinity had been shredded by traps laid millennia ago. The struggle over the Throne of Fate had now truly ended.
Cradling violet divine flame in her hand, Dorothy’s thoughts transcended space and time. Now possessing the infant’s full divinity, she had also inherited the channels of faith once used by Hafdar and the others. She immediately stabilized these links, preventing their dissolution—and with them, brought the infant’s remaining followers under her control.
Thus, Dorothy had secured the Throne of Revelation, and now held two portions of the Heaven’s Arbiter’s divinity. She stood just two steps away from true ascension.
One step: completing her Ascension Rite, becoming a Gold-rank, to host the divinity more fully.
Another step: retrieving the final fragment of the Heaven’s Arbiter’s divinity. At this moment, Dorothy could sense it—one last shard, still unclaimed, coalesced and lingering.
“It’s almost time… time to end everything.”
Gazing at the divine flame dancing in her palm, Dorothy whispered softly. She had a feeling: when she finally ascended the Throne, every unanswered question would at last find its answer.
And before that moment arrived, she had now… an opportunity—to begin answering many questions herself.
And that moment was here.
…
Current Reality — Eastern Coast of Pritt Island, Tivian, off the Main Continent's Shore.
In broad daylight beneath a clear blue sky, spring sunshine poured down over Green Shade Town in North Tivian, washing away the lingering chill of late winter. A gentle spring breeze swept across the land, rustling the trees lining the roadside.
Wearing a simple pale dress and a straw hat, Dorothy stepped out of her house and onto the streets of Green Shade. She strolled slowly, admiring the blooming flowers in the front yards of various villas.
Following a familiar path, Dorothy soon arrived at a familiar door. After studying the place—one of the first residences she had ever visited in Tivian—she stepped forward and rang the bell.
For the past few months, Dorothy had come to ring this bell from time to time, but no one had ever responded. This time, however, was clearly different. Footsteps could be heard from behind the door not long after the bell was rung.
The simple wooden door opened before Dorothy, revealing a very familiar figure. With tousled, messy hair, wearing a white nightgown and slippers, Beverly raised an eyebrow slightly upon seeing Dorothy.
“Yo. You’re here… Come on in.”
Greeting her in her usual laid-back tone, Beverly invited her neighbor inside. Dorothy followed her into the house, and the moment she stepped through the door, a cloud of dust hit her in the face.
Dorothy, with practiced ease, made her way into the messy living room—looking more like a junk room—and unceremoniously claimed the most comfortable seat on the sofa.
“You… look like you’ve been asleep for a long time.”
Watching the mechanical dolls diligently cleaning the room, Dorothy remarked bluntly. Beverly, meanwhile, busied herself with the automatic coffee machine and replied casually.
“Left in a hurry last time. Didn’t manage to get this body to the auto-maintenance pod, just tossed it on the bed and bailed. So now I look like this…”
Beverly finished brewing the coffee and came over, wobbling slightly with the tray in hand, placing the cup in front of Dorothy on the coffee table.
“So you’re in a rush too, huh? Came straight here as soon as you got back. Didn’t even give me time to tidy myself or the house, geez...”
As she spoke, Beverly sat down on the sofa, grabbed a bottle of machine oil from a shelf, and poured herself a glass. Dorothy took a sip of her coffee, then returned the cup to its saucer and teased.
“I’m not in a rush. I only got home last night and came by this morning. And you still haven’t cleaned up? That’s what you call efficiency—as the so-called Goddess of Industry?”
“Ah, well… Industry is my divinity. In other words, it’s my job. Work is work, and life is life. Mixing the two is boring. Would you spend your days off scheming against friends?”
After chugging her glass of machine oil, Beverly waved a hand dismissively. Dorothy answered promptly.
“First of all, I haven’t ascended yet. Second, in your view, the work of the God of Revelation is all just scheming?”
“Ha. As things stand, your ascension is inevitable. You’ve been in this world for less than three years, yet you’ve already obtained so much divinity and claimed a divine throne. That’s thanks to your and Osiris’s scheming. If you had aligned with any other divine path, there’s no way it’d have been this fast.”
Beverly shrugged lightly and, setting her oil glass on the table, continued.
“Wisdom isn’t the same as manipulation… but in my observation, you Revelation types are always out-scheming each other. That so-called divine wisdom? It’s more like con artistry.”
“And yet, despite all that scheming… Heaven’s Arbiter still couldn’t save Himself…”
Dorothy’s voice sank slightly. Beverly leaned back comfortably in the sofa and replied.
“Exactly… Maybe that’s what sets you apart from mere plotters. For the sake of a grander board, you're willing to put yourself down as a piece—to sacrifice yourself at the critical moment. That might be the difference between manipulation and wisdom… and it’s something that pitiful creature born upon the Throne of Fate could never understand.”
Beverly murmured softly. After a brief silence, Dorothy asked again.
“Where have you been these past few months?”
“Busy, as usual. Things with Morrigan have been heating up lately.”
Beverly responded casually. Dorothy raised an eyebrow.
“Morrigan… you mean the Spider Queen? This is still about her? What exactly happened?”
“That’s a long story…”
Crossing her legs and sipping her oil, Beverly recounted calmly.
“After the aftermath of the Eclipse Calamity, Wind Knight Arthur—the ruler of this land—fell. Since the Storm Path lacks proper means to counter corruption, Selene asked Suun to perform a ‘divine burial’ to seal Arthur’s remains.
“Later, Selene moved all her forces eastward and had no capacity to oversee Pritt. So she entrusted Arthur’s tomb to me for safekeeping.”
“You… So besides the secrecy rites my mother left behind on the Storm Path, you were the last insurance?”
Dorothy looked visibly surprised. Beverly nodded.
“That’s right. You could call me the final safeguard.”
“But in the end, the Spider Queen still got hold of Arthur’s remains. Don’t tell me you didn’t fight her?”
“Of course not! Among the auxiliary gods, I’m one of the strongest. That scheming little spider Bay-brat couldn’t possibly defeat me.”
Waving a hand dismissively, Beverly spoke with disdain. Dorothy picked up on the name she’d mentioned.
“Bay?”
“Baybokah—former Lord of Shadows, Selene’s predecessor. During the Moonbite Event, he lost his divinity to Hyperion and fell. Hyperion claimed that Baybokah willingly gave up his divinity for the greater plan, but Baybokah’s divine offspring didn’t believe that at all. They insisted Hyperion betrayed him and declared war using the dark elves.
“In the end, sixteen or seventeen of Baybokah’s divine lineage were wiped out. Over half the dark elves were purified. Those forcibly conscripted to the battlefield by divine blood ties were ‘redeemed’ by Hyperion into humans and integrated into his empire. But some remnants fled deep into the inner realm, embracing corruption and hiding in the Fallen Domain—harboring hatred, waiting for revenge.
“Morrigan is one of them. She’s not the strongest among Baybokah’s remnants, but she’s the most cunning and ruthless. One by one, she devoured her exiled siblings through schemes, growing stronger—until she found her chance. When Hyperion fell and the Eclipse Calamity struck, she seized the Blood Shade Path. Now she’s greedily eyeing more shadow divinities—especially the main divinity within Selene, who inherited from Hyperion.”
Beverly told the tale of the gods with utter calm. Dorothy listened and nodded slowly.
“So... the Spider Queen is a descendant of the previous Shadow Lord. She believes the Hyperion line stole Baybokah’s divinity. That’s why she seeks revenge—wants to take back the Shadow Lord’s throne from Mirror Moon, even embracing corruption to do it. She took advantage of the chaos following Hyperion’s fall to claim the Blood Shade Path...
“Thinking about it like that… her story is kind of inspiring… but the grudge between her and Mirror Moon can never be reconciled…”
After collecting her thoughts, Dorothy asked again.
“I understand the Spider Queen’s origins now. But how exactly did she take Arthur’s tomb from you?”
“Simple—she bargained. Morrigan offered me enough leverage to make me step down. At the time, I held a significant portion of Commercial Gold divinity, and I couldn’t refuse a fair deal.”
“You held Commercial Gold divinity? So that’s why the Craftsmen’s Guild turned to commerce?”
“Correct. After Dark Gold fell, to counter any corrupt commercial god that might rise from the Gold Throne, I kept a large share of the Commercial Gold divinity. To store a divinity incompatible with myself, I built a counterfeit Throne of Gold to serve as a vault.
“I got heavily involved in business to suppress the Dark Gold Society and to maintain the stability of that false throne through an ongoing grand ritual.”
Beverly had clearly stopped hiding things, answering every question openly. Dorothy took the chance to press further.
“Suppressing the Dark Gold Society? But your strength far exceeds the Dark Coin Noble’s. Shouldn’t wiping them out be easy?”
“Yes, I could destroy them. But why bother? That guy holds a bigger portion of Commercial Gold divinity than I do. But unlike Osiris’s devotees, he’s not obsessed with resurrection. His greed is bottomless. He doesn’t want to revive Dark Gold—he wants to replace it as the new god of commerce.
“His greed compels him to reject any new god rising from the Throne of Gold. So he clings to that divinity and the throne, slowly devouring it to raise his level, never taking too much at once to avoid going mad. At the same time, he uses every means to stop a new god from being born on the throne—because once there’s a new god, he knows he can’t compete.
“Now you understand why I let him live. I only hold a portion of the Commercial Gold divinity. The rest—scattered or tied to the throne—could potentially form a Commerce infant god. Better it stay in Dark Coin Noble’s hands. He’ll fight tooth and nail to prevent it. He’s Dark Gold’s last chosen vessel, with unmatched affinity. No one else could suppress it better.
“Of course, even he can’t prevent it forever. A Commerce infant god will still be born eventually. But for now, he’s doing a great job delaying it—and all for free. I don’t even have to pay him~”
Spreading her hands with a smile, Beverly spoke with the air of a merchant who had clearly profited—drawing an involuntary twitch at the corner of Dorothy’s lips.
“Good grief... So the Dark Coin Noble has been played from the very beginning—unknowingly doing unpaid labor for someone else, all while thinking himself a sovereign divine capitalist… And this wind-up woman? She’s clearly more ruthless than Dark Coin Noble ever was. Even as a part-timer, she’s more of a commerce god than he is. I wonder if someone taught her this…
“In a way, both Dark Coin Noble and Hafdar spent a very long time doing similar things—affecting the vacant divine throne in different ways. Hafdar sought to awaken the will on the throne and accelerate the infant’s birth. Dark Coin Noble, on the other hand, did everything he could to stall its awakening…”
Dorothy shook her head slightly as she thought this. Then she looked to Beverly and asked.
“Aren’t you worried Dark Coin Noble will eventually absorb enough divinity to become uncontrollable?”
“Not really. He may look like someone who’s fallen, but at his core, he’s not. On the contrary, he’s afraid of falling. He wants the Commercial Gold divinity—but he fears being enslaved by its corruption.
“Meanwhile, I regularly use the Commercial Gold divinity I hold to perform a few… tricks. I ‘sell off’ my own accumulated corruption. A lot of it ends up getting dumped straight onto the Commercial Gold’s throne, deepening the corruption of the divinity Dark Coin Noble holds. That drastically slows down his ability to filter and absorb clean divinity. It’s been ages, and he’s still stuck at Divine Chosen—hasn’t even reached Apostle. Ever since I got my hands on Commercial Gold, it’s made purging my own corruption so much easier~”
Beverly gestured with one hand, still smiling effortlessly. Dorothy, upon hearing all this, couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
“So thinking about it now… Dark Coin Noble’s life really is quite tragic. First, he was used by the automaton woman as a tool to delay the infant’s awakening. Then Hafdar used him as a pawn to seize the Revelation Scepter. Then he was tricked by Hafdar again and made into the infant’s puppet, forced to conduct the World-Selling Rite. When the automaton woman closed in, he was tossed out as cannon fodder. And even now, he’s still a controlled puppet... tsk.”
“Used by everyone like a tool, and most of the time, he thinks he’s the one strategizing… what a pitiful fate.”
After mulling over Dark Coin Noble’s unfortunate lot, Dorothy brought the topic back to the present and asked Beverly.
“So then… what exactly did the Spider Queen offer you in that deal? What was the bargaining chip that made you give up Arthur?”
“Information,” Beverly answered without hesitation.
Dorothy frowned slightly.
“Information? What kind of information could be valuable enough to make you surrender the tomb?”
Seeing Dorothy’s reaction, Beverly smiled faintly. After crossing her legs again, she replied.
“It was intelligence about the very enemy you just fought—about the preparations the infant made before facing you. Morrigan’s intel was directly related to that.”
“Preparations the infant made before fighting me…”
Dorothy’s brows furrowed even deeper. Beverly, no longer keeping her in suspense, continued.
“In truth, that infant was far more cautious than you expected. From the moment of its birth, it recognized you as Osiris’s chosen successor. It suspected that confronting you head-on might fall straight into Osiris’s traps. As a newly born god, it had no intention of engaging you in a direct clash so soon. That would’ve gone against the cautious nature of Revelation’s divine lineage...
“The infant’s original plan was far grander—and far more dangerous—than what you saw. It had intended to rally the other fallen gods into a unified Fallen Alliance, overthrow the Lantern’s order, and then, amidst an unstoppable wave of divine collapse, strike at you. Surrounded, overwhelmed, you’d lose your divinity before you could resist. At that point, it wouldn’t matter how many traps Osiris had left behind.”
Beverly recounted this calmly. Dorothy’s expression darkened.
“You’re saying… that infant tried to form an alliance of fallen gods?”
“That’s right. The infant was one of the rare fallen gods with a sense of the bigger picture. From the beginning, it saw the deep divisions and long-standing conflicts between the others. It knew that if each god acted independently, the result would be chaos. So it tried to act as a mediator—maybe not getting them to cooperate outright, but at least to coordinate their timelines.”
Dorothy’s face grew more solemn as she listened. The Spider Queen, the King of the Underworld, and the infant—any one of them alone was already difficult enough. Dorothy had exhausted enormous effort and resources just to deal with one of them at a time. If they had truly acted together…
“So… why didn’t this alliance work out? Did the infant lack credibility?”
“Exactly. As a twisted god of Revelation, the infant’s trustworthiness was suspect in the eyes of the other fallen gods. Though it made earnest efforts to reach out, it was near impossible to persuade gods who’d each schemed in isolation for centuries, even millennia, to suddenly coordinate. None of them were willing to disclose even a sliver of their plans.
“Seeing that alliance was a dead end, the infant lowered its expectations—aiming instead for synchronized execution. If it couldn’t get them to cooperate, it could at least get them to act at the same time, overwhelming the Radiance Church’s ability to respond. That proposal went over more smoothly. It even constructed a shared space to serve as a communications hub for the fallen gods.
“But then… one of them had other plans.”
Beverly’s tone remained easygoing. Dorothy quickly followed up.
“Other plans… you mean the Spider Queen?”
“Exactly. Morrigan.
“In her scheme, she needed to break the secrecy rite of the Despanser royal family to reach Arthur’s tomb. But she knew I was there as the final safeguard. She couldn’t beat me head-on, which meant she couldn’t claim Arthur’s remains. The question of how to deal with me became her greatest obstacle.
“But then came the infant’s invitation. Even though the infant took great pains to hide its identity, Morrigan saw through it. She figured out what it was planning. And she used that intel to make her deal with me.
“Back then in Tivian, Morrigan jumped the gun, launching her own operation ahead of the others. Inside the Tomb of Fading Winds, she revealed everything to me—the infant’s existence, its machinations, the location of its lair, and the communications platform it had painstakingly built. She even disclosed the infant’s attempt to collaborate with Dark Coin Noble to buy back the corruption I’d sold, in a ploy to forcibly corrupt me.
“From Morrigan’s point of view, following the infant’s plan still didn’t guarantee she’d get past me. She knew the odds of help from the other fallen gods were slim. But if she sold the infant’s secrets to me, then I—seeing her as cooperative—would likely let her pass...
“So—don’t you think that kind of intel was worth it?”
Beverly twirled a finger in the air with amusement. Dorothy paused, then replied honestly.
“Its value… is immeasurable.”
“Exactly. So I made the deal on the spot. I followed her intel straight into the inner realm, struck the infant’s hideout, and destroyed the communication platform it had built.
“Unfortunately, the infant had layered so many alarms and contingency tricks throughout its base that it managed to escape.
“After that, I began hunting it across the entire inner realm—dispatching trackers to every world I could reach. Even if I couldn’t find it, I had to suppress it—to deny it any chance to regroup and revive its alliance plans.
“Under that kind of relentless pursuit, the infant began to feel intense pressure. It was forced to abandon its grander, more stable plan and resort to a much riskier move.
“It left its true body hidden away and sent out subordinates—its only remaining pawn being the easily manipulated fool, Dark Coin Noble—to confront you in the material world, hoping to seize your divinity.
“It was a desperate gamble, but at that point, it had no other options. Under my pressure, it had no choice but to gather divinity by any means—until it could grow strong enough to fight back against me.”