In the central part of the continent, on the vast plains between the protectorate nations of the faith, a steep, blade-like white mountain pierced into the clouds from the heart of the Holy City. Above it, where light overflowed into the nine heavens, lay the holiest place in this world.
Holy Mount, the center of the Radiance Church, was the core territory of the faith spread across the continent. It housed the residences of the Seven Living Saints. These Seven Living Saints presided over the Seven Sacred Courts, which collectively formed the highest governing body of the Radiance Church, overseeing nearly every aspect of this colossal transnational organization.
Why nearly every aspect? Because there were a few departments not directly under the Seven Sacred Courts—such as the Historical Scripture Department, sometimes referred to as the Eighth Sacred Court.
As the name suggests, the Historical Scripture Department was in charge of handling the Church’s vast corpus of texts: recording, organizing, storing, and archiving tremendous volumes of documents. It also collected, studied, and sealed away various mystical texts. In essence, it was the Church's archive and documentation bureau.
In theory, the Historical Scripture Department was equal to the other Sacred Courts, standing as the eighth among them and maintaining relative independence. However, due to lacking its own Cardinal, it was in practice subordinate. While nominally independent, Cardinals from other Sacred Courts could indirectly issue orders to it.
Because it lacked a Cardinal, the department’s members were often pressured by those from other Courts. Tasks were constantly assigned from outside, even those far beyond its usual purview. As a result, life in the department was less than easy. However, this situation seemed to be changing lately.
In a corridor somewhere within the vast Holy City, a young cleric in long robes hurried along, cradling several books in his arms. As he rounded a corner, he encountered an older cleric, whose vestments bore different markings from his own.
“Ah, Aubrey—perfect timing. I’ve got some trial records here. Help me sort them and archive them over at your place, will you?” the senior cleric said casually, clearly out of habit.
The younger cleric hesitated slightly, then steadied himself and replied.
“Apologies, Cleric Tori. Initial sorting of trial records is supposed to be done by your side. Once organized, they should then be delivered to us.”
“What? You’re not even willing to help with that? You’ve always done it before! The Lord frowns upon the sin of sloth, you know...” the elder said sternly, but the younger cleric quickly responded.
“Cleric Tori, I’m currently handling urgent matters for the Cardinal Envoy. Please do not obstruct me—or bear the consequences.”
“Cardinal Envoy…”
The older man’s expression instantly shifted. He changed his tone.
“Well then, I won’t trouble you…”
With a snort, he briskly departed. The young cleric sighed in relief, hugged his books tighter, and picked up his pace.
Passing through the corridor, the young cleric entered a vast hall beyond a towering gateway. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, and a dozen towering, ornately decorated pillars stretched upward, supporting a magnificent dome painted with intricate religious art. One side of the hall was lined with towering bookshelves extending so far they vanished into the distance. Between each row of shelves were open zones filled with neatly arranged desks.
Each zone contained hundreds of desks, and at each sat a cleric poring over texts. Others rushed between the shelves, some pushing tall ladders as they searched the upper shelves. Floating lamps hovered in the air between the stacks, casting light in all directions.
The entire space felt at once tranquil and intensely busy.
The young cleric made his way swiftly through the labyrinth and soon arrived at the most spacious section between the bookshelves. This area had no desks—only heaps of documents piled directly on the floor. Scrolls tumbled like waterfalls from the mountains of books, and atop the highest pile sat a lone figure.
It was a mature and graceful woman in a fitted white robe adorned with fine gold jewelry. Her head was wrapped in a lavishly bordered veil, and she wore a gauzy face covering. Though her face was obscured, her beauty was evident at a glance. She sat quietly atop the book mountain, flipping through an ancient tome, her eyes fixed intently on the pages. Around her floated numerous glowing violet glyphs, arranged in orderly fashion. Some were recognizable to clerics; others were not. But even the known characters were scrambled beyond comprehension.
Seeing the woman, the young cleric paused briefly, swallowed, and stepped forward to address her respectfully.
“Your Excellency, the documents you requested have been retrieved. These are the early missionary records of the Holy Mother from the Azure Isles region.”
“Ah… Thank you for your trouble…”
The woman—referred to as the Envoy—turned her gaze toward him, accepted the texts, and offered thanks. The cleric bowed once more after completing his task and withdrew. The woman then opened the newly delivered tome and began reading intently.
“You seem to be well respected here, Shepsuna…”
As she read, an elderly voice echoed in the space. A translucent figure appeared from thin air—a spectral spirit adorned in lavish gold and silver. It was none other than Setut.
“For the sake of my convenience, Her Excellency invoked her authority and had the Cardinal Council grant me significant privileges. You know how respect follows power under the Lantern system…”
Shepsuna replied calmly without lifting her gaze from the pages. Setut glanced around and spoke again.
“I think… it’s not just about that. This so-called Historical Scripture Department has long been pushed around due to its lack of strong leadership. Your arrival gave them a reason to lift their heads again. Some seem to really treat you as their leader…”
“Leader? You mean Cardinal? Hah… Let them think what they like. I won’t be here long anyway. But you, Setut—you were asked to help, yet you’re spending so much effort observing irrelevant details…”
Shepsuna said coldly, glancing briefly at the pharaoh spirit beside her. Setut responded with a chuckle.
“Well, by the time I arrived, you’d already decrypted most of it. I just helped with the legwork. Had time to spare for other things…”
“Just legwork? You played a key role. Without your help, I’d probably have needed another full week.”
“Hah… I never thought you—the one among us most skilled in symbology and cryptography—would say that to me. I guess this trip wasn’t wasted after all. But really, is this mystical text that heavily encrypted? Even for you?”
Setut asked curiously. Shepsuna lifted her gaze from the book and stared at the glowing, jumbled symbols in the air.
“It’s extremely high. Layer upon layer of obfuscation and misdirection. Even among all the encrypted texts I’ve seen, this one stands out. If the encryptor wasn’t a master of Revelation, I can’t imagine what sort of person they’d be…”
She muttered to herself. Hearing this, Setut asked solemnly.
“A master of Revelation… In the thousands of years since the fall of the Divine Mentor, aside from the recently emerged godling and Her Excellency, are there any others?”
“Who knows… Maybe once I’ve completely decrypted this mystical text, I’ll find a clue.”
As she spoke, Shepsuna waved her hand. The glowing symbols before her began to shift and rearrange.
The unreadable glyphs transformed, one after another, into First Dynasty hieroglyphs, which then restructured into coherent sentences.
Finally, once all sentences were in order and formed a complete passage, Shepsuna focused on the beginning and read aloud.
“We gather here in joy, we sing in praise…
We lay offerings upon the altar—game, incense, clear water, and dance…
We delight the Sacred Tree that veils the world, the Mother of Abundance, the Goddess of the Great Ocean…
May Your blessings nourish all life, may Your mercy shine upon all children.
O Great Mother… Tiametta.”
…
Pritt, Northern Suburbs of Tivian, Green Shade Town, outside the East Gate of Royal Crown University
In the daylight hours of Green Shade Town, spring wind caressed the streets and sunlight bathed the earth. Inside the cluttered living room of House No. 27, Dorothy sat in silence, staring at the steam rising from the coffee on her table, a deep heaviness written across her face.
“So… this entire universe has only about a billion years of history?”
Dorothy muttered solemnly. According to what Beverly had just said, even though this universe had gone through countless cycles, the total duration—even with all cycles added together—amounted to no more than a billion years. That was a ridiculously short lifespan for a universe.
Dorothy recalled that in her past life’s world, Earth alone was 4.6 billion years old—and the universe it was in was even older. But here, this entire universe was younger than Earth had been. That was absurd.
A universe might indeed come to its end one day, but that should happen only after an unimaginably long span of time. If this universe were merely facing a natural end, the gods here might accept it without resistance. But the reality was this universe was facing a rare kind of premature aging—the process of chaosification was proceeding far too quickly.
A billion years… For the universe to reach decline in just a billion years—of course the gods would never accept it. Resistance against Chaos was inevitable, even if it meant their own continual deaths and replacements.
“So… you probably understand now why we gods of this universe—why we fight so hard against Chaos and Fall. This isn’t the fate we were meant to have. This is a great tide, yes… but it’s not one that should exist.”
Beverly placed a hand over her chest and spoke softly with seriousness. Dorothy replied in a low, resolute voice.
“I think… I’m starting to understand. But tell me—why has the development of the Fall in this world accelerated so much? You said earlier that this is abnormal compared to other universes?”
“It is. The rapid chaosification of our universe is indeed abnormal. But as for why it’s happening, we—the later generation of gods—don’t know. Perhaps only the original Wild Primordial Triad might hold some clues…”
Dorothy let out a slow breath and continued.
“According to what you said before, once I fully inherit the throne of the God of Revelation, my main duty would be to judge history and reset the cycle. But with the current state of the world, even if I succeed in ascending, wouldn’t performing the Judgment be quite difficult?”
“Exactly…”
Beverly waved a hand, then took a sip of her motor-oil-like drink before continuing.
“The power of the Arbiter of History—to judge and reset the timeline—requires authorization and approval from the other five main gods. Without that, you can’t pass judgment on an entire cycle. But right now, the main gods are in… troubling conditions. That will impact your authority to judge.
“Among the Lantern, Shadow, Stone, and Silence factions, although some are in an unstable state, they’re still unlikely to resist your judgment. But the Chalice… is a huge problem. The current Mother of Chalice is an undisputed fallen evil god—perhaps the strongest fallen god in existence today. There’s no way she would cooperate with your judgment.”
Beverly explained gravely. Dorothy followed up at once.
“So, if we don’t deal with the Mother of Chalice, even initiating the next cycle of reincarnation would be impossible?”
“Exactly~ Congratulations, you’ve identified the biggest problem we’re facing right now. We have to confront and deal with a fallen main god. The Mother of Chalice must fall—or be weakened to an extremely feeble state. Otherwise, this cycle simply cannot be reset.”
Beverly said frankly, though in a lighter tone. Dorothy, still frowning, pressed further.
“Why did it come to this? Has a main god ever fallen this completely in past cycles?”
“No. This level of complete fall is very rare. And the reason the Mother of Chalice fell this deeply… is mostly thanks to a certain troublemaker.”
“Troublemaker? Who?”
“Who else? Your ever-troublesome grandfather…”
Beverly pointed at Dorothy with a complex expression. Dorothy blinked in surprise.
“My grandfather… the Emperor of Light, Hyperion?”
Her expression showed visible shock.
“What could he have done to cause the Mother of Chalice’s Fall? Was it because of the Eclipse Calamity he caused?”
“Correct.”
Beverly nodded and then spoke solemnly.
“I’ll admit—Hyperion was one of the most extraordinary people I’ve ever seen. He rose from nothing during the chaos of the late Second Epoch and early Third. From an ordinary mortal, he ascended step by step—recognized even by me and the last incarnation of Lantern. He defeated all his enemies and claimed the position of the God of Lantern.
“Honestly, in many ways, you remind me of Hyperion—his brilliance, charisma, strategic talent… and his compassion for the masses even after ascending. During the chaotic change between eras, when Osiris had fallen, a great number of fallen gods and twisted fragments emerged. Most of them met their end at Hyperion’s hands. He was the one who neutralized the disaster left by Osiris and Baybokah, who stabilized the cosmos and ushered in the new era. Among all the mortals who ever ascended to godhood across the cycles, Hyperion was the most outstanding.”
Beverly continued her praise, and Dorothy listened seriously. This wasn’t the first time Beverly had compared her to Hyperion—and Dorothy could tell Beverly genuinely saw a reflection of him in her.
“But… there were differences too. The most striking one is that Hyperion was more passionate than you. He had brilliance and liked to plan—but not as meticulously as you. He preferred bold, all-or-nothing gambles to solve problems—and often succeeded.
“That might be why the tragedy eventually happened. After becoming a god, he realized even he couldn’t resist the tide of Fall—he couldn’t truly purge it even as a main god. So he began imagining whether an even stronger version of himself might overturn everything. He came to view the Egg of Chaos as his final enemy—and sought a greater power to defeat it.”
Beverly explained seriously, and at this point, Dorothy suddenly grasped the deeper issue.
“Wait… The Emperor of Light—did he try to merge opposing spiritualities to fight Chaos?”
“Yes… exactly. Hyperion believed that being a main god still wasn’t enough. He sought a higher rank of divine power.”
“But according to what you said before… even the Wild Primordial Gods couldn’t defeat Chaos. They split their power just to resist it. Didn’t Hyperion know that?”
“He knew full well… but he did it anyway. According to him, the Wild Primordial Gods were the Wild Primordial Gods—and he was himself. Once he reached their level, he would find a way to resist the Fall. He was that confident…”
“And did he ever say what that way would be—after becoming a Primordial?”
“No… not a word. Not even to me. He kept it all a secret. He never revealed how he intended to defeat Chaos as a Primordial.”
Dorothy scowled and asked sharply.
“So even to you all, he kept it secret… and you let him proceed with such a reckless ritual?”
“We tried to stop him. But we were too late. After Hyperion gained Baybokah’s divinity, we issued warnings. He appeared to comply—promised he wouldn’t attempt to merge opposing spiritualities. But in truth, he’d been preparing the ritual in secret all along. When everything was ready, he made a formal announcement about what he was going to do—but by then, it was too late.
“And you know the rest. Hyperion perished in the solar eclipse ritual he created. The Eclipse Calamity shook the entire universe. Thankfully, we arrived in time—and the safeguards he left behind worked. Otherwise, the consequences would’ve been unimaginable…”
Beverly frowned deeply. Dorothy was silent for a moment, then sighed.
“So… sounds like the Emperor of Light was… a bit too willful.”
“He was. At the time, he was so confident—confident to the point of arrogance. He wouldn’t listen to our final pleas. He truly believed that becoming a Primordial would solve everything.
“And the result? He triggered a massive explosion. The worlds were shaken, the universe itself cracked. All subordinate gods linked to Hyperion were annihilated in that divine catastrophe. Three main god positions became simultaneously vacant for the first time in history. The system, once supported by six main gods and twenty sub-gods, lost its balance. The explosion of repulsive spiritualities caused a rift shock in the inner realm—leading to catastrophic consequences.
“Worst of all, with divine stability broken, the once-suppressed Egg of Chaos became wildly active. Fall erupted everywhere. All gods were affected. Ordinary ones could hold on… but those already too corrupted?”
Beverly spoke seriously, and upon hearing her words, Dorothy asked gravely.
“A god who had already accumulated excessive Fall within… could that be the Mother of Chalice?”
“That’s right… it was her.
“Tiametta—she was the main god who presided over the universe during the previous cycle before ours. At the start of our current cycle, she was the one among the Six Great Gods with the most deeply entrenched corruption. She was supposed to require more time, to undergo more cycles, in order to cleanse the Fall within her… until she could fall and be replaced when nothing remained to purge.
“But the Eclipse Calamity, caused by Hyperion, led to an unprecedented eruption of the Fall. That sudden explosion utterly overwhelmed the already fragile Tiametta. Her descent was faster than anyone could have predicted. By the time the other gods reacted, she had already gone completely mad—fully transformed into an evil god.
“In the first moments of her total corruption, Tiametta devoured her own panic-stricken subordinate gods, then re-conceived and birthed three new evil gods—what we now know as the Three Heads of the Afterbirth Cult. Along with the rest of the gods, I engaged in battle against Tiametta and her offspring. But at that time, the other main gods were each facing problems of their own and couldn’t fight at full strength. The battle was not in our favor—until the safety measures Hyperion had left behind before his ritual finally took effect. The new gods of Lantern and Shadow—Hylos and Selene—were born, and the situation was reversed.
“Afterward, the gods joined forces to seal Tiametta and other fallen elements deep within the inner realm. The power maintaining the seal was entrusted to the new Lantern god, Hylos. Only then did the Eclipse Calamity come to an end. But the scars it left on the world… are profound and almost impossible to heal.”
Beverly spoke in a low voice. After hearing all this, Dorothy did not respond right away. Instead, she fell into thoughtful silence.
“So… the collapse of the entire Chalice system, the current state of its corruption, can ultimately be traced back to the Emperor of Light? That rash solar eclipse ritual of his nearly collapsed the entire divine framework. The reason why there are so many active evil gods now in the Fourth Epoch… Hyperion has to bear at least half the blame…
“My grandfather… spoken of in myth as wise and mighty—how could he have made such a reckless move?
“No wonder Beverly was so insistent earlier that I not overthink things in this cycle. Just focus on judgment and reset—don’t even think about trying to eliminate the Fall entirely… Looks like she was scared stiff by Hyperion’s precedent. She doesn’t want me following the same path at all…”
Rubbing her temples, Dorothy thought to herself. Then she looked back at Beverly and asked.
“Then tell me—do you think Hyperion’s act of keeping everything secret from the other gods and forcing the ritual through… was that normal?”
“To be honest… it felt a bit off. But just a bit. Hyperion had always been confident and prone to bold, risky moves—and he had always succeeded. This time… maybe he simply took an even bolder gamble and failed.
“To me, his actions can only be explained in two ways: one, he was subtly influenced and corrupted by Chaos without realizing it, which inflated his arrogance and desire for power. Or two, the secret method he believed could counter Chaos really seemed viable to him—so much so that he was willing to risk everything. Or maybe… both.”
Beverly spoke thoughtfully. Dorothy followed up immediately.
“But in the end, you all never found out what Hyperion’s plan really was? What he intended to do as a Primordial?”
“No… and now it’s probably a mystery that will never be solved.”
Beverly let out a helpless sigh and waved a hand. Dorothy didn’t press further. She simply picked up her coffee and drank the last of it in one go.
She swirled the plain mug in her hands, glanced out the window at the sunny view, and seemed like she was about to say something—when suddenly, her internal communications network picked up a message request. The identity of the sender was very familiar.
“That’s… Artcheli?”
A flash of the Saint-girl of the Church crossed her mind. Dorothy accepted the connection, and a cool, familiar female voice rang out within her thoughts.
“The mystical text the Afterbirth Cult has been trying to acquire—we’ve finished decoding it. Thanks to the helpers you assigned, the Historical Scripture Department worked much faster.”
“The mystical text the Afterbirth Cult was after… The Crimson Holy Mother!?”
Dorothy immediately pictured the cover of the Chalice mystical text. She was more than familiar with it.
Shortly after arriving in Tivian, the Afterbirth Cult had attempted to steal that very text from the forbidden archives of the Hymn Cathedral. Their pollution campaign even dragged in Vania, which is how Dorothy first noticed their actions. Since then, the Afterbirth Cult has made multiple attempts. At first, the agents involved were low-ranking, so Dorothy didn’t take it too seriously—until they sacrificed a Crimson-rank member to get it. Only then did she start paying real attention to the text’s origin.
At the time, Dorothy had been baffled. Why was a mystical text the Afterbirth Cult valued so highly being stored in a cathedral archive in a Church district? And why was the Church itself completely unaware of its importance?
Later, after she officially began working with Artcheli and learned the origins of The Crimson Holy Mother, she was stunned. She never would have guessed—the text had come from Luer, the leader of a minor heretical group called the Crimson Eucharist, whom she’d encountered back in Igwynt. A mere Black Earth–rank Beastman! He had sold the book to Aldrich, who then passed it to the Tivian Craftsmen’s Guild, and from there it was recovered by the Church.
“Something so critically important to the Afterbirth Cult was once owned by a nobody Black Earth fellow… and he sold it off like it was nothing. How utterly absurd. Well, at least now I’ll finally understand what all the fuss was about…”
Dorothy thought to herself. After resolving the issue with the godling of Revelation and gaining full recognition from the Sage Kings, she had immediately dispatched Shepsuna and Setut to the Historical Scripture Department at Holy Mount, tasking them with overseeing the decryption of that layered and deeply encrypted Chalice text. Under the guidance of those two sages, the department’s decryption work had progressed rapidly. Before long, The Crimson Holy Mother was fully deciphered.
“Tell me quickly—what’s actually in it?”
Dorothy asked Artcheli inwardly. The reply came swiftly.
“The text had been extensively disguised and encrypted. Even your helpers were impressed by the complexity of its cipher work. The final decrypted content reveals that it’s a priestly ritual tome once held by a high-ranking divine cleric. It documents a vast array of rituals. The book’s original owner bore the title ‘Daughter of the Sacred Tree’—she was the highest priestess of the Church of Abundance in the Third Epoch, and her patron was the then Chalice deity… the Goddess of Abundance.
“The full contents are being compiled by the team you assigned. They’ll send it to you shortly.”
“…Abundance…”
Artcheli’s voice echoed in her mind. Dorothy murmured the word aloud, then turned to glance at Beverly, who was idly playing with her fingers.
“According to you, the Mother of Chalice worshipped by the Afterbirth Cult is in fact the fully fallen version of the Goddess of Abundance from the Second Epoch, correct?”
“That’s right. After subduing the elves, Hyperion accepted Tiametta’s allegiance, allowing her Church to expand within his empire. Through rituals, her followers fed her faith to stabilize her crumbling mind and limit her power. But after the Eclipse Calamity, she was completely overwhelmed by madness and fell into an evil god…”
Beverly answered lightly. Dorothy responded immediately.
“I’ve just received the decoded version of the text the Afterbirth Cult had long coveted. It appears to be a secret priestly ritual manual from the turbulent Second Epoch goddess church. It was encrypted across multiple layers and only recently fully cracked. Would you like to take a look?”
As she spoke, Dorothy waved her hand. Letters in Prittish condensed in the air. The characters rapidly aligned to form lines of floating text—article after article flashing before Beverly’s eyes, page by page.
“These are indeed former Abundance Church rituals… and some secret rites that only gods and their chosen should know… Even many from the elven era… I can’t believe Tiametta managed to preserve such a complete ritual tome all the way into this era…”
Beverly murmured in astonishment as she read the pages flying past. Dorothy then asked plainly.
“Can you tell why the Afterbirth Cult places such importance on this mystical text?”
Hearing Dorothy’s question, Beverly stroked her chin thoughtfully for a moment, then shared her thoughts aloud.
“The Afterbirth Cult’s current goal is nothing more than to help Tiametta break free from her seal and descend once more. Since they desire this mystical text so badly, it’s possible the book contains a method to release her…”
“A method to break the Mother of Chalice’s seal? But isn’t this mystical text just a ritual tome from before she fell? She should already know everything in it, right? If it had a way to free her, why hasn’t she used it before?”
Dorothy asked, puzzled again. Beverly responded frankly.
“Tiametta’s descent was extremely rapid and violent—so violent that her mind was completely shattered. You shouldn’t really think of the former Goddess of Abundance and the current Mother of Chalice as the same god. After she was consumed by madness, what now inhabits her broken divine vessel is, in essence, an entirely new evil god.
“During her fall, Tiametta’s memory and mind were severely destroyed. She remembers very little of who she used to be. The old rituals of Abundance have long since been forgotten by her.”
“So… the Mother of Chalice herself forgot her past, which is why the Afterbirth Cult wants these documents?”
Dorothy asked in surprise, to which Beverly nodded in confirmation.
“Compared to the old Abundance Church, or the ancient Elven Kingdom, the Afterbirth Cult is still young. They haven’t had the time to develop massive, customized rituals suitable for their goddess. It’s completely natural they’d seek to use Abundance-era secret manuals as reference. I believe they’re preparing an important ritual for Tiametta and hit a technical roadblock—so they need this mystical text for guidance.”
That was Beverly’s speculation. Dorothy then added.
“But this text is heavily encrypted. Even if the Afterbirth Cult got their hands on it, they wouldn’t be able to decode it anytime soon.”
“Unless… they already have a key.”
That comment from Beverly gave Dorothy pause.
“You think that’s possible?”
“Not entirely impossible… And since the fallen Tiametta is now our final and greatest enemy, it’s only wise to assume the worst.”
Beverly waved her fingers, speaking seriously. Dorothy’s face grew solemn as her brows furrowed, clearly deep in thought.
…
Nighttime, North Tivian.
The moon hung high, stars glittered across the sky. Tivian, under the night, was lit like a sea of lanterns. It was not yet late, and the streets bustled with people. Carriages crowded the roads.
Dorothy sat within her carriage, riding through Tivian’s wide avenues. As the wheels turned and hooves clattered, she lifted the curtain to admire the city's nightscape.
Shops glowing with light passed by one after another until a grand plaza came into view—the square in front of the Hymn Cathedral in the Cathedral District. Even now, many devout believers moved across the plaza. Inside the great cathedral, a choir of children sang a fresh, clear hymn that echoed throughout the area.
“Oh lost ones… ordinary folk…
When you suffer… when despair is all you see… look to the sky—
“Behold… the brave Son who wields his blade, banishing calamity…
Hear… the just Father who proclaims sacred law, preserving order…
Feel… the merciful Mother’s angel, her incarnation, healing our pain…
“Children of the divine… never forget—
“God's grace forever shields us…
All suffering and disaster are fleeting…
In the Eternal Kingdom… we find peace…
In the Eternal Kingdom… we find peace…”
The children's voices rang out, reverberating above the Cathedral District and surrounding streets. Though the cathedral regularly hosted hymns, this one was entirely new—never heard before.
This new hymn had already been sung for days across various churches. With its short lyrics, clear meaning, and pleasing melody, it had quickly grown popular. Even after Dorothy's carriage had long passed the Cathedral District, she still heard pedestrians humming the Church’s latest composition.
“Nice song…”
Dorothy murmured as her sharp hearing caught several different renditions from passing townsfolk. She closed the curtain and returned to her seat, sitting calmly as the carriage continued its journey.
Under the moonlight, the carriage pressed onward. Before long, it passed from the northern district into the eastern, finally stopping at World Plaza, right in front of the grand Crystal Palace.
“Teacher Mayschoss!”
“Peace upon you, Your Excellency.”
As Dorothy stepped down from the carriage, two familiar figures greeted her: Anna, wearing a tailored suit and hat, and Isabelle, dressed in a modest evening gown. Clearly, they had been waiting for her.
“Good evening, both of you. Are preparations complete?”
Dorothy asked directly, gazing at the two most powerful figures in the Pritt Kingdom. Anna replied.
“Everything is ready. Our guest from afar awaits your arrival, teacher.”
Anna smiled. Dorothy gave a slight nod.
“Thank you.”
With those words, Dorothy ascended the grand stairs toward the palace doors, accompanied by Anna and Isabelle. Upon entering the vast interior of the Crystal Palace, she saw that beneath its lofty, crystalline dome was an enormous Shadow ritual array carved into the floor. At the edge of the formation stood two familiar figures—one girl, one cat.
“Ah! It’s Miss Scholar!”
“An honor to see you again, Your Excellency.”
Upon spotting Dorothy, Saria and the black cat each responded in their own way. Dorothy nodded to them both, then turned toward the black cat and asked.
“It’s been a while. I’m glad to see you two again. The ritual seems ready—are you up for it?”
“Absolutely. With your blessing, I’ve fully recovered to peak strength. Paired with this ritual, the results will be flawless.”
The black cat answered respectfully. Dorothy then turned her attention to the ritual array. After inspecting it carefully, she gave a slight nod.
Once everything was confirmed, she took out her magic box, opened it, and retrieved a sigil—a Shadow sigil.
It was a Dream Anchor Sigil—a replica crafted by Dorothy herself, based on another Dream Anchor Sigil she had once seen… one used by Luer.
Back in Igwynt, Luer had formed the Crimson Eucharist and collected the materials for his White Ash-rank advancement. The guide he needed was shrouded in mystery, not even present in Igwynt. Luer had to reach him through dreams, using a Dream Anchor Sigil to visit his guide in the Dreamscape and be led through the ritual. Dorothy had, in dragon form, wounded Luer during that dream ritual and had personally witnessed the opening of the dream portal.
It was clear Luer and this mysterious guide were deeply connected. Now, with Luer long dead, perhaps this guide knew how someone like Luer came to possess The Crimson Holy Mother—a text so critical to the Afterbirth Cult.
With the final battle against the Mother of Chalice approaching, Dorothy needed to uncover the truth behind Luer and The Crimson Holy Mother. Using her exceptional memory, she reconstructed the exact sigil Luer had used—every line, every detail—and passed it to Beverly, who employed every resource available to create a perfect mystical replica of the Dream Anchor Sigil.
And now, at the Crystal Palace, the Night Ritual was ready. With Saria’s black cat grandfather present, fully restored and empowered by the ritual, he would wield immense strength within the Dreamscape—capable of silently overwhelming even Crimson-rank beings.
Tonight, Dorothy would find out:
Who was the mysterious figure behind Luer?
What kind of secret lay hidden behind this small-time figure holding a weighty mystical text like The Crimson Holy Mother?
“…Hah. To think I’d end up chasing down clues this old…”