The Material Realm, Outer Space.
In the battle against the Afterbirth Cult, in this great holy war, the forces of resistance once held overwhelming advantage. However, an unexpected turn—one no one could have foreseen—caused the tide of war to shift dramatically, completely overturning the situation.
The power of wisdom, originally meant to protect the Mother of Life, instead became the key that unlocked the seal of corruption. When the sealed archive of the shattered world was opened, the universe’s long-forgotten venomous memories quickly spilled forth. The moment the Corrupted Blood Chalice tasted those memories, the broken shackles could no longer restrain Her. No realm across the multiverse could halt the arrival of the Great Mother.
The earth cracked. Mountains collapsed. Oceans overturned… With the infusion of the vast, mighty power of the Blood Chalice, the azure planet—once a home to all beings—underwent a cataclysmic transformation. Crimson flesh squeezed up through the abyssal rifts, thick tentacles erupted from within the mountains, and oceans rapidly drained away through frenzied vortices. As the sea levels dropped, one could see the faces at the bottom, drinking the ocean dry.
Using the planet itself as a vessel, the Mother of Chalice was crafting a manifestation for Her descent. The fractured crust could no longer contain the wildly growing deformities beneath. The erupting flesh consumed all as the planet cracked apart.
At this moment, the only place on the planet’s surface not yet fully overtaken by the fleshy corruption was Holy Mount, located in the central region of the main continent.
Beneath the murky, suffocating green sky, amidst the churning crimson plains, the sheer white mountain stood tall like a sword piercing the heavens. Countless thick tentacles surged upward from the plains, trying to wrap around the mountain, but were blocked by an invisible barrier glowing with radiant gold. As more and more tentacles clung to the mountain, the radiant barrier dimmed, nearing collapse.
“Doom…”
At the peak of Holy Mount, struggling to maintain the defensive ritual, the seraphic Kramar muttered heavily. Beside him, aside from Marco, who was still upholding the ritual, the rest of the cardinals appeared as projected echoes of legends.
They had already withdrawn from the frontline of the holy war and gathered here to protect Holy Mount with the ritual.
“In the end… we still didn’t make it in time?”
Within one of the ritual circles, Hilbert looked around with a grave expression.
From the other side, Artcheli gritted her teeth and said, “Tch… We were so close to striking the Afterbirth Cult’s vital point. How did things turn out like this in the end? The Great Evil God shouldn’t be ready to descend yet…”
Her tone was heavy with resentment, and at that moment, a mocking voice abruptly echoed through the space.
“Oh… and who do we have here? A bunch of pitiful wretches struggling in vain… Once-arrogant cardinals reduced to this state—how pathetic…”
As the voice spoke, a thick tentacle rose from the flesh-covered plain below the mountain, growing to the height of the mountaintop. At its blood-colored tip, a humanoid figure was clearly forming.
It was none other than the Mother of Chalice’s divine chosen—Unina, the former Cardinal of Redemption. Now fully bathed in blood, her lower body was completely merged with the thick tentacle lifting her. Her once-shattered skull had fully regenerated. She gazed smugly at the cardinals, who were struggling to maintain their defenses.
“You… you’re Unina… that unforgivable sinner! You still dare appear on this sacred ground… I’ll—urk…”
Upon seeing Unina, Kramar roared in fury. He wanted to purify the mocking traitor before him, but realized he had no strength left to spare.
“Oh, save it… You pitiful worms still cling to that disgusting holier-than-thou façade even in such a state… Once the final candle burns out… I’ll personally show you the ultimate end…”
Unina sneered as she basked in her triumph, making no attempt to hide her glee before the upper echelons of the Radiance Church. From the side, Hilbert responded sharply.
“Don’t be so smug, traitor! Your evil god has not yet fully descended or seized all. The power of righteousness still stands. Under the Radiance of the Lord, you and your ilk will be purified into nothing!”
“Hmph… Traitor? ‘Lord’?”
Unina scoffed at Hilbert’s words, then opened her arms and shouted with fevered emotion.
“And who’s truly the traitor here?! After all these years of faith, you still don’t feel it? The so-called Radiance, the so-called Three Saints—it’s all a lie! They’re void idols created by Phaethon! A hollow name used to deceive the world and harvest faith!”
“Phaethon lied to me, lied to you, lied to everyone! He used his false doctrine of the Three Saints to dupe all belief! If you have a brain, you’d have woken up by now!”
Unina loudly proclaimed what she believed to be earth-shattering revelations. Yet the cardinals merely paused for a moment—complex expressions briefly flashing across their eyes—before their composure returned. None showed great surprise. None responded with outrage.
Seeing this, Unina’s expression darkened. She lowered her arms and spoke coldly.
“So… you’ve suspected the Three Saints’ falsehood all along, haven’t you… You’re not fools so easily deceived. And even with such doubts, you still blindly followed Phaethon without a single move of your own? Should I praise Phaethon’s dog-training skills for how obedient you’ve all become…?
“With how you are now… do you even deserve to be called ‘believers’? Dogs. That’s all you are. Phaethon’s loyal… dogs.”
Unina’s mocking smile deepened, her contempt naked in her words. At that, Artcheli retorted coldly.
“And you, a faithless betrayer, still dare call yourself a believer?”
“I am no betrayer of faith!”
Unina’s emotions suddenly surged as she roared. Her bloodshot gaze turned to the giant statue of the Holy Mother atop Holy Mount’s summit.
The once-gentle, compassionate face of the statue was now riddled with cracks. From its serenely closed eyes, two trails of fresh blood flowed down.
“I have never betrayed my faith! The god I worship has always been… the Great Mother… the Blood Chalice…
“The Holy Mother is the Mother of Chalice… the Mother of Chalice is the Holy Mother… That so-called ‘Holy Mother’ is merely a false shell. The Mother of Chalice within is the true reality… A false body used to imprison the truth…”
As she spoke, Unina turned to face the other side of the plaza—where Amanda stood silently. Her expression softened.
“Ah… look there… my dear little Oriana… how you’ve grown. I was the one who found you and brought you into this decaying church… You followed my prayers, worshipped the Holy Mother with me… I know—since you were small, you were always the most devout… a true Holy Mother believer… No one longed for Her arrival more than you…”
Gazing at the roiling plains of flesh, Unina smiled as she continued.
“Look… look at this scene… our Holy Mother has finally broken free of all those imposed chains, descending into this world… This is what we’ve both longed for—such close contact with our god… So come, let us return together into the Mother’s embrace… just like the vow I once made you recite… I promise, the Mother will welcome you just as She did me…”
Staring deeply at Amanda, Unina whispered sweetly. After a moment of silence, Amanda solemnly replied.
“The Holy Mother I know… would never bring such despair to the world…”
“Despair? No, no… you haven’t understood yet… this is the true boundless love of the Mother… the love that embraces all things…”
“Boundless love…? I’m sorry. Perhaps I’m simply too dull-witted to comprehend such profound meaning. I’ve never been the best in my theology class, have I?”
Amanda said calmly to Unina, who then looked down with superiority and answered.
“That’s alright… I’ll make sure to give you a thorough lesson next… just like I used to…”
And with that, Unina turned her gaze longingly toward the moment Holy Mount’s final barrier would crumble.
…
“Ah!!!”
Out in space, on the deck of the Saint Steel Vessel, the already weakened and unstable beautiful dancer collapsed to her knees once again with a shriek as she tried to stand. Clutching her head in agony, she let out a scream of unbearable pain. At that moment, the ring of blooming flowers that had circled the planet withered in an instant—countless blossoms shattered, their pale pink petals disintegrating into the pitch-black void.
“Ugh… Your Majesty… please don’t be like this… please wake up… this is the world you love… my Queen…”
Crying and trembling in anguish, Astarte knelt on the deck, pleading desperately. Crimson threads of corruption rapidly spread across her body. The petals falling from her turned from pink to a deep, bloody red.
“Your Majesty… please… hear my voice again… I beg you…”
At last, within the tearful prayers, a pale violet halo enveloped Astarte’s trembling form, extending to wrap around the entire Saint Steel Vessel. Bathed in this light, the vessel became hazy and translucent, its form fading into illusion.
“So in the end… it has emerged after all… Mother of Filth…”
Gazing at the apocalyptic scene before him, Alberto, aboard the bridge, spoke solemnly. On the fading deck, Shepsuna cast one final glance into the distant stars, toward a small and faraway figure.
“May fate favor you… young successor…”
Then, together with Astarte, the entire Saint Steel Vessel vanished into the vastness of space, leaving no trace behind.
With the power of the Mother of Chalice breaching the material realm at such a scale, it was far too dangerous to leave the fragmented Astarte here. As a god aligned with Chalice, she could not resist the corrosive pull of the Mother. She had to be removed from the realm immediately.
Dorothy transferred Astarte—and the rest of the holy war forces unfit to battle in the material realm—into her story world, temporarily severing their link to the Mother of Chalice. Though this protected Astarte for the time being, it also meant losing her Desire Path support.
On the battlefield of the inner realm, without the guiding force of the Desire Path, the once intensely battling Wolf and Serpent abruptly ceased their duel. Under the madness-driven compulsion, they unleashed frenzied divine power in all directions. In the already shattered space of the inner realm, blood seas churned and black devourment rampaged, countless wolf heads and red masses launching aimless attacks on anything they could sense—an utter chaos of madness and destruction.
The Mother of Chalice’s continual nursing had rapidly accelerated the growth and strengthening of both the Abyssal Serpent and the Gluttonous Wolf. Under these conditions, the Lord of Forge was already struggling to resist them. Only by spreading maddening whispers to drive them insane and using Desire Path’s guidance to pit them against each other could they be suppressed at all.
But now, with Desire Path control lost, the Wolf and Serpent turned their unhinged aggression toward everything they sensed. Aside from each other, the most prominent target was the Lord of Forge’s divine body, which began taking heavy fire from both at once.
“Damn it… why did it suddenly turn into this…”
Face grim, Beverly controlled her massive divine body—commanding a legion of war machines, cannons, steam, fire, and titanic weapon-wielding god-machines—to fend off the rampaging black wolf and blood serpent. But as they continued to grow stronger through the Mother's milk, it became increasingly clear her defenses wouldn’t hold for long.
“Shit… that damned light-bringer idiot! You really left behind a trap this big?! What the hell?!”
Even the typically composed Beverly couldn’t hold back her curses now. She had long been critical of Hyperion and his so-called “Eclipse Calamity” from millennia ago, though she’d tolerated it somewhat out of old friendship. She’d even helped the other gods clean up his mess. But to think that disaster had hidden such a dangerous aftershock—one that would explode at this critical moment—pushed her over the edge.
“Your grandfather’s nothing but a blundering wreck! The rate at which the Mother’s influence is expanding is too fast—at this rate, we’re finished! You need to seal off those damn reincarnation pathways now!”
Beverly shouted toward Dorothy. Once, she had still used somewhat respectful tones when discussing Hyperion with her. But now, that restraint was gone. Dorothy quickly responded.
“I’m already trying! But the flow is too massive—completely sealing it is extremely difficult!”
In the material realm’s space, Dorothy was simultaneously trying to block the torrent of corrupt Chalice energy surging from the story scroll realms, while fending off the Mother of Chalice, who was rapidly unsealing and descending, along with Her frenzied offspring.
With Desire Path support gone, Dorothy could no longer control the plague-ridden atmosphere still shrouding the malformed planet. Now unleashed, those plague mists surged outward in all directions in countless forms—including toward Dorothy herself.
“It’s back again…”
Watching the plague tide surge toward her once more, Dorothy’s expression hardened. She raised her hand, summoning a storm of thunder to strike the lethal plague head-on, disintegrating the undead pathogens that dared assault a god into harmless particles.
Facing the Plague Vulture, now enhanced by the Mother's milk, Dorothy held no real advantage. But the Vulture remained brainless—mindlessly frenzied and attacking without aim—allowing Dorothy to deal with its instinct-driven assaults for now.
She could survive for the moment—but it wasn’t enough. Dorothy knew what terrifying force was growing beneath the thick plague atmosphere. If she didn’t act, the deeper the Mother's descent progressed, the graver their situation would become.
Resolved, lightning crackling around her, Dorothy stared at the gas-giant-sized plague planet, and silently opened her mouth:
“–FUS·RO·DAH–”
A surge of Revelation divine power flooded into the ancient runes, transforming into a spoken command from the Fate Sovereign, unleashing a force of world-shattering might!
Dorothy’s divine-infused Unrelenting Force became a colossal shockwave erupting from her mouth, shattering the plagueforms that lunged at her like beasts. Yet this was just the beginning. The Dragon Shout pressed onward, expanding rapidly. When it reached the thick, green plague clouds of the "Plague Planet," it violently agitated them. As if struck by a gale, the outer layers of the planet’s atmosphere were blown away like dandelions in the wind, exposing the inner core—a growing flesh planet.
Now, the planet had transformed completely. The oceans had vanished. Its crust had crumbled into fragments clinging to a pulsing mass of red meat. Organs of all kinds grew on its surface—ears, eyes, noses, mouths, limbs—massive in scale and randomly misplaced across its body. Tentacles writhed and squirmed, rendering the entire thing grotesque and repulsive.
Dorothy’s Dragon Shout tore through the plague mists and struck the Flesh Planet. On a normal terrestrial planet, that blow would have shattered it instantly—but this was no ordinary planet.
Rivers of blood appeared in space—circling the flesh planet like orbital rings. As the Dragon Shout approached, these rivers flowed in erratic patterns, dispersing the shockwave into smaller forces, redirecting it along their flow and preventing it from reaching the core.
Seeing this, Dorothy narrowed her eyes. With a wave of her hand, she summoned a barrage of lightning. Countless thick bolts rained down upon the rivers, whose currents tried to redirect the strikes as well.
But Dorothy’s lightning wasn’t like the Dragon Shout—its speed was far greater, leaving little time for the blood rivers to deflect it. Moreover, her strike paths had been carefully calculated; she intentionally aimed just slightly off target so that the currents' interference would realign the bolts precisely.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!
Even in space, the roars echoed. Bolts of massive lightning struck the blood rivers wrapping the flesh planet, lightning dragons howling through the blood seas, dissolving their matter.
Under Dorothy’s assault, more than half the protective blood rivers vanished. Without pause, she unleashed even more thunder, targeting the flesh planet’s core, determined to obliterate it.
But as the bolts struck the flesh, mouths opened at every impact site—ravenous, swallowing the divine lightning whole. Some lightning bolts, midway through descent, began to mutate—growing flesh and blood—and were bitten down upon by monstrous mouths.
The mouths pierced the lightning with fangs and injected them with corrupt pathogens, which then traveled along the mystical connection of the thunder toward Dorothy. Realizing the danger, Dorothy swiftly converted herself into glyphs—floating arcane symbols—avoiding the infection.
“Looks like… I’ll have to use that technique…”
Faced with the still-growing flesh planet, Dorothy grimly thought to herself. She reached out mentally to Beverly, sending a new stream of whispers.
“Again with this trick? You got it…”
On the battlefield of the inner realm, Beverly—still fighting the Gluttonous Wolf and Abyssal Serpent—received the signal. Understanding Dorothy’s intent, she redirected some of her strength and reshaped her divine body. While maintaining her weapon systems, she morphed into more record players, unleashing countless massive loudspeakers and resumed broadcasting at full force.
In an instant, Dorothy’s mind-corrupting whispers once again echoed through every space, every realm, amplified by Beverly—the greatest media machine. The meme-borne message, imbued with Dorothy’s will, spread rapidly to every corner of the universe.
The material realm became the epicenter of this whisper-borne infection. The omnipresent memetic pollution surged from all planes toward the flesh planet—just like how the brains of the Three Gods were once filled with these same invasive murmurs, the whispers now began flooding into the consciousness of the flesh planet—that is, into the foul, corrupted will of the Mother of Chalice.
However, the Mother of Chalice’s sheer scale far surpassed that of the Three Gods of the Afterbirth Cult—and the same was true of Her brain's capacity. The immense torrent of memetic data broadcasted into the consciousness of the flesh planet didn’t manage to fully saturate it in one go!
“So… that much brain?”
Seeing that the still-swelling flesh planet had yet to show signs of mental collapse, Dorothy couldn’t help but feel a deep unease. Just as she was about to coordinate with Beverly to ramp up the information injection into the flesh planet, something unexpected occurred.
On the blood-red surface of the flesh planet, now encircled by countless whispering memes, grotesque bulges suddenly swelled up one after another. These masses ballooned larger and larger without stopping.
Finally, as they reached their limit, the grotesque lumps—each larger than a mountain—exploded open. From the splattered blood rose one by one twisted monsters.
They were warped humanoid abominations—tall and spindly, with seven or eight soft, tentacle-like arms. Their wrinkled, grayish skin was studded with mouths—mouths and nothing else. They had no other features. No eyes, no nose, no ears—just mouths upon mouths.
These many-armed, many-mouthed monsters rose from every ruptured pustule, spreading across every inch of the flesh planet’s terrain. Upon birth, they all stood, lifted their tentacle arms into the air, and opened every mouth across their bodies.
The monsters began to chant in unison—uttering whispers that bore an extremely high resemblance to the ones Dorothy created and Beverly broadcasted. Only, these were lower, hoarser—rougher.
Not only did they chant, but the monsters began waving their arms to trace intricate runes in the air—forming symbols one after another in precise patterns.
The symbols and whispers these monsters produced spread rapidly across the flesh-covered world, forming a new meme imbued with power. These new memetic constructs were read by the flesh planet and began to interact with Dorothy’s own memetic viruses—counteracting and nullifying them.
The memes generated by these monsters were also information weapons—a kind of memetic antidote at the informational level. They effectively neutralized Dorothy’s viral information. This left Dorothy stunned.
“What… is this?”
In her information form, Dorothy was utterly shocked. How could the Mother of Chalice—a god of the Chalice domain—wield such advanced infomorphic power? She quickly began analyzing the phenomenon. The result left her even more dumbfounded.
“She… she’s using my data? The Blood Chalice’s main divinity… can it really do that?”
Dorothy realized that the Mother of Chalice’s ability to manipulate information didn’t come from Herself—but from Dorothy!
After ingesting Dorothy’s toxic memes, the Mother had used them as seed-data, fusing them with Her own divine power to gestate a horde of meme-wielding monsters—the very chanters now shrieking out counter-whispers.
Gestation and reproduction—this was one of the most fundamental manifestations of the Mother of Chalice’s divinity. She could use nearly any material as a seed and generate offspring adapted to any environment. These screeching, whispering creatures were a textbook expression of Her divine essence.
“Disgusting…”
Dorothy murmured, a heavy chill weighing down her heart. And with the emergence of the Chanters, the battlefield changed drastically again.
As more and more pustules burst open across the fleshy earth, an increasing number of Chanters came into being. They sang together. They inscribed together. Their collective output flooded with memetic data imbued with the Mother of Chalice’s will. As their numbers grew into the tens of billions, the rate of their information output began to surpass even Beverly’s inner realm broadcasts, leaking outward beyond the Mother Herself.
Under the spreading influence of the Chanters, the chaotic plague mists that had once scattered in random patterns around the flesh planet suddenly stopped their erratic diffusion. After a brief lull, they began rapidly converging again—coalescing.
But the Chanters' effect didn’t stop at the material realm. When their numbers grew vast enough, their hymns penetrated the weakened barriers between dimensions, spilling into other domains—chiefly, the divine battlefield realm where Beverly resided.
As the Chanters’ chorus resounded across the fractured battlefield, the previously deranged Abyssal Serpent and Gluttonous Wolf, who had been recklessly unleashing divine power, suddenly began to calm.
The plague mists gathered… the blood seas stilled… the wolf shadows grew serene… Under the influence of the Chanters’ lullaby, the memetic toxins of hostility were massively neutralized. The Three Gods of the Afterbirth Cult were able to regrow “brains”—or brain-like organs and structures—allowing their thoughts to emerge from pure madness, regaining the ability to think.
“…Thank you, Mother…”
“Let those who dare obstruct you… pay the price… no… be redeemed…”
“Devour… devour all… then return to Mother… devour all… then return…”
The Afterbirth Three Gods regained basic awareness. Their vast divine power returned to conscious control. Now, they could finally identify the true enemy. Knowing who their foe was—they struck without hesitation.
In the inner realm, the previously aimless blood-serpent rivers surged together and launched themselves at the massive divine iron body. The black wolf shadows, once running wild like headless flies, now lunged at the blazing iron sun with predator’s hunger.
In an instant, steel axles shattered, flames snuffed, radiance devoured, bombs consumed—within the chaotic currents stirred by the bloody sea serpents, the towering divine machine-body exploded and cracked apart. Black wolves howled from all directions, swarming to devour its fragments, pressing ever deeper in their assault.
“Damn… I can’t hold on much longer…”
With their minds restored and the power of the Mother’s milk enhancing them, the Three Gods finally achieved coordinated direction. No longer did they unleash random power—now, they pooled their might, releasing it in concert against Beverly.
It was more than she could handle.
In the past, she could fend off two unenhanced Three Gods—even if they went mad. But now, both the Gluttonous Wolf and Abyssal Serpent were not only enhanced—they were lucid. The combined assault quickly became unbearable.
Beverly continued to struggle bitterly. But her limit would soon be reached. And in the material realm, Dorothy’s situation was no better.
The Plague Vulture, its mind restored, condensed into a thick green fog and surged toward Dorothy in an overwhelming tide. The vast scale of the plague mist made it impossible for her to block; she was engulfed.
Fortunately, Dorothy still existed in her informational form. Swallowed by the green fog, her data-body avoided immediate infection. But that didn’t mean she was unaffected.
Penetration—just as a virus breaches the blood-brain barrier, the now-rational Plague Vulture began directing its deadly pathogens to infiltrate the dimensional barriers, spreading its plague to adjacent realms.
And Dorothy instantly understood what it was trying to do.
It wanted to spread infection across dimensions, to reach into Dorothy’s story world—to infect everyone protected within.
Dorothy’s story world was a replica of the material realm, created using its structure as a blueprint. In spatial terms, the story world was a neighboring realm to the current one. Although the exact geometric distance was unclear, the Plague Vulture’s strategy was simple: cast a wide net, infect every neighbor—and eventually reach inside.
If it couldn’t infect Dorothy, then it would infect everything she protected. The Plague Vulture was attempting to spread plague into the story world, destroy the foundations of Radiance faith housed within, and—worse—infect and draw out Astarte, seizing the remaining divine nature of the Desire Dancer She still carried.
Facing the Plague Vulture’s attempt to infiltrate through realms with its plague, Dorothy reacted immediately. She began reinforcing the boundary of her story world, even shifting its spatial position to prevent the onslaught from the Afterbirth deity. Though this could protect the story world from the plague, it came at a severe cost to Dorothy herself.
After all, if Dorothy remained in a fully informationalized state, she would be unable to exert large-scale power involving the material realm—this included not only her lightning abilities but also her power to construct the story world itself. The building of the story world inherently involved vast forces tied to the physical domain, meaning that in order to fortify its defenses, Dorothy could not remain entirely in a pure data state. She had to edge closer to the material layer.
If Dorothy were to remain fully detached from the material world, she would be immune to physical divine power—but she would also be incapable of interfering with anything that existed near the material level. Interference is bidirectional: to avoid being interfered with means losing the ability to interfere. And as she had not yet reached the level where she could fully informationalize an entire planet or even a realm, she had to lower her own resistance to material influence to protect her story world—and that was exactly what the Afterbirth deity had been waiting for.
Sure enough, because she was conducting large-scale reinforcement of the story world, Dorothy’s once-illusory data-form began to solidify. The characters composing her form compressed into denser patterns; her figure began to flicker into partial visibility. She was falling from pure data into a dream-form, and even further toward a spiritual-body state—forms far more susceptible to the power of the Plague Vulture and the Mother of Chalice.
With a deafening hum, several shadows surged upward from beneath the thick, suffocating plague atmosphere. Upon closer inspection, they were revealed to be thick crimson tentacles, growing from the ever-expanding flesh beneath. They writhed and surged toward Dorothy—and as they approached, her form began to show ominous changes. Her semi-illusory body was now webbed with fine red threads.
Dorothy was beginning to undergo fleshification.
The Mother of Chalice was trying to drag her into the material domain, while at the same time, the Plague Vulture’s illness sought to penetrate her core. Between the blood threads, streaks of green had begun to appear.
At this moment, Dorothy seemed truly trapped. Even in Her partial descent, the Mother of Chalice was far beyond what Dorothy could resist. And yet, she remained calm—because she knew… she had a destined aid.
Light… golden radiance.
Just as Dorothy was being overwhelmed by the corrupt power of Chalice, a golden beam burst through the darkness of space, enveloping her. It bathed her half-illusory form in light.
In that instant, wrapped in golden radiance, a gentle warmth spread through her. In that warmth, Dorothy’s vision became astonishingly clear—she could see beyond all veilings, pierce through all things unseen.
Within that light, Dorothy saw—far beyond the material realm, atop the unreachable peaks above countless inner realms and domain-layers—there, shrouded in dusky twilight, stood a great cross.
Upon that towering crucifix, she saw a withered, gaunt, utterly decrepit figure, bound tightly with chains like a lowly prisoner. But when looked at closely, it was clear—those chains did not bind him. He held them himself, his stiff arms pulling the ends tight, as if he had chained himself to the cross.
Staring at the vague figure, a look of peaceful understanding crossed Dorothy’s face. With a faint sigh, she softly whispered.
“At last… I get to see you again… Uncle.”
With those words, Dorothy's body began to transform drastically. In the golden light around her, a faint violet shimmer emerged, twisting within the golden aura.
Finally, the violet glow formed into a shimmering Revelation symbol, enveloping Dorothy’s half-real form. As the runes flickered with divine rhythm, a cascade of changes began.
The blood threads and pathogens invading Dorothy’s form were, under some strange power, rapidly led toward collapse, mutation… decay. Within these microscopic lifeforms, all the worst possible outcomes began to unfold. In mere moments, Dorothy had purged the corrupting Chalice power.
And that wasn’t all.
With a sweep of her hand, Dorothy informationalized the outer shell of the story world, erecting a protective firewall around it, fully isolating it from the Plague Vulture’s infection. Then, as the massive tentacles came rushing in, Dorothy summoned lightning once again.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!
Even brighter than before, dazzling violet lightning carved through the dark sky and struck the grotesque limbs. Under the thunderclap, the massive tentacles shuddered visibly, their surfaces charred black—but powered by the unending vitality of the blood-flesh beneath, they regenerated rapidly, barely staving off annihilation.
“Some things… were never meant to be yours.”
With a cold voice, Dorothy struck again. This time, her power—through the Throne of Fate—reached deep into the distant inner realm, into the story scroll realm, where the corrupted Chalice power had been seeping outward.
The window she had struggled to shut—now slammed shut in a thunderclap.
The opened gate was sealed again. The seal on the story scroll realm resumed its function. The corrupted Chalice could no longer escape—no longer flood into the material realm.
The flesh planet, or rather the Mother of Chalice’s corporeal incarnation, had always drawn strength from two sources: one was Her own descending self, and the other was the corrupted Chalice leaking from the story scroll realm. Now, with one of those channels severed, Her regenerative ability faltered—allowing Dorothy’s radiant thunder to fully consume the attacking limbs.
As she gazed at the flesh planet still looming below, Dorothy’s face remained calm. The Revelation symbol that had formed around her faded into nothing.
Just earlier, Dorothy had witnessed the Mother of Chalice descending, watched Her distorted body form in the material world. And now, within the golden light, she had seen the one bound high above, the one who sealed the Chalice, her own blood-relative uncle—the Radiant Savior, Heros.
As the Mother’s seal unraveled, Dorothy had in short succession witnessed both the body of the Chalice and the Radiant Savior. She already knew, through deduction and Beverly’s confirmation, what it all meant.
The Radiant Savior… was the prison itself, the one suppressing the power of corruption.
And the so-called Three Saints of Radiance were the three primary vectors that the prison suppressed.
The Mother of Chalice… was the greatest prisoner of all.
Upon learning this truth—upon witnessing the final divine forms of both Lantern and Chalice—Dorothy finally completed her Gold Ritual, advancing to Gold-rank. With her foundation expanded, her mastery over the Revelation divinity surged to a new height!
Dorothy used the prophetic power of the Foresight Path to alter the causal threads of the pathogens affecting her, triggering their self-collapse—just as the infant god had once done.
Then, with even greater power, she partially informationalized the story world to resist the Plague Vulture’s infection. She sealed shut the opened gate to the story scroll realm, cutting off the Mother of Chalice from the long-buried power within.
Now, Dorothy had stepped into Gold—and was only one step away from becoming the Arbiter of History.
That final step… was to obtain the last fragment of Revelation divinity remaining within the Mother of Chalice’s body.
And the reason she was able to accomplish all this in such a short span… was thanks to one being—someone both familiar and unfamiliar to her.
With that thought, Dorothy’s gaze turned toward a corner of the flesh-covered earth below. Amidst the murk, a thread of radiant light had begun to flicker.
…
Not long ago, atop the flesh-covered earth, the Holy Mount, surrounded on all sides by countless tentacles, was now at the brink of collapse.
Under the immense Chalice divine power, the final defenses protecting the sacred mountain were beginning to falter. As the radiant barrier continued to break apart, the filth-ridden forces could barely contain themselves—Radiance’s holiest site was on the verge of desecration.
“Almost there…”
Like a cat pressing its face against a fish tank, Unina watched the failing sacred defense with a twisted, feral grin. Soon, very soon, she would experience the moment she had longed for over hundreds of years. By contrast, the cardinals who still held their ground in defense of the sanctuary wore expressions of deep solemnity.
BOOM!
Suddenly, a brilliant golden light descended from the heavens, piercing through the murky, polluted sky and striking directly at the peak of Holy Mount. In that instant, a shockwave of pure radiance burst forth from the mountain’s summit, spreading outward. The flesh-tentacles it touched reacted as if scorched by a blazing flame, writhing violently as they recoiled and withdrew from their entanglement with the sacred mountain.
“What… is this power…?”
Through gritted teeth and hatred, Unina stared toward the origin of the light. As it began to fade, the Holy Mount’s plaza was once again revealed. Compared to before, there was now a new figure standing there. All the cardinals present looked upon that figure with stunned, wide-eyed gazes.
“The… Holy See…”
The seraphic Kramar choked out in a trembling, hoarse voice, unable to hide his awe. He immediately dropped to one knee in a formal bow. The other cardinals followed in quick succession.
“Thank the Lord for His protection… the Holy See has returned…”
Standing once more on the familiar plaza, dressed in simple robes, the frail, bald, and time-worn old man slowly looked around. His weary eyes swept across the kneeling cardinals. In a tone as if speaking from across the ages, he murmured softly.
“You’ve done well… all of you… Now, the destined hour has arrived. Our duty as wardens is complete. Let us… face this destined catastrophe… together.”
“Phaethon!!!”
Before his words had fully settled, a shrill cry of furious hatred echoed across the Holy Mount. Unina’s face twisted into a grotesque mask of rage upon seeing the old man, and the surrounding flesh-earth erupted into a frenzy. More and more gaping-maw tentacles burst from the ground, lashing out in a full-scale assault on the Holy Mount. The already fragile radiant barrier began to collapse at an alarming rate. Soon, the mountain would be left completely defenseless.
Yet the old man, Phaethon, paid Unina’s screams no heed. He calmly stepped forward and stomped twice upon the plaza stones.
With each step, golden arcane runes spread from beneath his feet, quickly extending across the entire mountaintop cathedral and downward into the body of the mountain itself. Then, a sudden and massive transformation swept through the entire Holy Mount.
The ground quaked—a tremendous, thunderous tremor rippled across the mountain’s vast bulk. Under this violent shaking, the nearly vertical, towering mountainside of Holy Mount… began to rise.
Yes—the entire mountain, thousands of meters tall, began growing upward from the ground!
The cardinals on the summit were visibly shaken by the unexpected development.
“What’s happening?!”
As the mountain rose, fine cracks spread rapidly across its pristine white cliffs, spiderwebbing out in all directions across the surface.
From these trembling fractures, slabs of outer rock broke away and fell. Beneath them was revealed something astonishing: vast swaths of golden metal—gleaming and mechanical.
The defense of Holy Mount had never been reliant solely on the cardinals or angels. Even from the beginning… the mountain itself had been its greatest protector.
This entire mountain was not just sacred—it was a sacred divine machine.
Compared to the Staff of Radiant Decree, this was an even more powerful and irreplaceable artifact. Back when the Mother of Chalice had first begun to break free, and the Pope was still in the heavens, Phaethon had already reawakened the church’s most colossal and sacred relic hidden within the Holy Mount.
The Radiance Church’s one and only Sacred Land-Grade Saint Steel Vessel—the strongest war machine not only of Radiance, but of the entire Old Empire.
“Let us embark, O Wheel of the Blazing Sun… Bring light and hope once more to this world… In the name of Hyperion.”
Watching the massive mechanical form beneath his feet undergo its grand transformation, Phaethon whispered reverently.