Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Chapter 760 : King of Souls

Western Main Continent, across the Starfall Sea—the ancient land of Starfall.

Afternoon, on the eastern side of the New Continent, near the coastal harbor district of one of its largest colonial cities: New Jacques.

The port district of New Jacques was bustling with activity. Countless large ships were docked at the berths, with swarms of dockworkers busy loading and unloading cargo. Piercing steam whistles rang out over the din. At the edges of the docks, many travelers waited for their departing ships, while small newsboys darted between them, arms full of newspapers.

“Extra! Extra! Breaking news! King Charles IV of Pritt has suddenly passed from illness! Princess Isabelle named in his final will!”

“Radiance of the Holy Mother! Sister Vania Chafferon resumes her pilgrimage! First stop: Frisland—now arrived in Aransdel!”

“Sudden death of King Charles! Holy Sister cleared of false charges resumes pilgrimage! Don’t miss this headline!”

Waving a newspaper in his hands, a newsboy shouted excitedly as he ran, quickly drawing attention, especially from recently disembarked passengers who’d had little access to fresh news. Many called him over and bought copies on the spot. Within minutes, the boy was surrounded by eager buyers, grinning as he took coins and handed out papers. His stock sold out in no time.

Not wanting to miss the chance to earn more, the newsboy bolted toward the printing press like many others across the city, hoping to grab another bundle and keep riding the news wave.

Meanwhile, in a room at a modest but well-furnished inn near the port, Nephthys sat by the window. Having just bathed, she wore a robe and had her hair wrapped in a towel. A hot cup of coffee in one hand, she was reading the very newspaper extra.

“So they’ve finally released it… the news of Charles IV’s death. Pritt sure kept it under wraps long enough. Now that this bulletin’s out, it means they’re fully prepared—his soul’s probably already passed into the Netherworld…

“And… Sister Vania’s report got placed right beside it on the same front-page extra? Even if it’s on the second column, that’s still huge… I suppose she really is the Church’s most famous figure lately.”

Sipping her coffee, Nephthys skimmed over the paper’s various speculations and conspiracy theories. Just as she took another sip, her spiritual senses twitched—someone was behind her.

“Hurry up, girlie… We’ve been waiting on you forever!”

The booming voice made Nephthys jump. She whipped around and saw Harald, the ghostly warrior clad in broken armor and wearing his shattered horned helm, floating in the room, clearly impatient.

“Who let you in!? Get out!”

Flustered, Nephthys instantly fired a Soul Expulsion spell at him. Caught off guard, Harald’s spectral form was blasted through the wall and flew into the inn’s ground-floor lobby. He stabilized himself midair, scowling upward.

“Tch… that woman’s not just slow, she’s got a bad temper too… Back in my day, if someone like her got caught by a raiding fleet, she wouldn’t be having such an easy time…”

“No gratitude at all… If it weren’t for my dragonship’s speed, she wouldn’t even have time to be dilly-dallying here.”

Harald grumbled at the ceiling. Nearby, Kapak, dressed smartly in a suit and seated with a newspaper, chuckled.

“She’s just a woman, Lord Harald. A hero of your stature needn’t take offense.”

“Hmph, true… just a woman…”

Harald snorted, but dropped the matter. Kapak, satisfied, returned to reading the paper with interest.

After the long sea journey, Nephthys had insisted on a hot bath and some rest before setting off again. Since time wasn’t too tight, Kapak had agreed. Harald, however, had been less pleased—but Kapak managed to appease him with praise, emphasizing confidence in the speed of his famed dragonship and convincing him to wait one night.

Now that Harald had barged in, Nephthys lost her desire to relax. She quickly changed from her robe into formal attire—leaving her hair still damp—and stepped out of her room, heading downstairs to meet Kapak in the inn’s lobby.

By now, the sun had set—it was dusk. The two agreed to enjoy a proper meal and rest for the night before setting out for the Ancestral Valley the next morning. After a bit of discussion, they—Harald included—chose a nearby restaurant for dinner.

“You’re surprisingly well adapted to Main Continent culture,” Nephthys remarked as she ate, watching Kapak order dishes with practiced ease.

Having met other New Continent natives during the Tivian Grand Duke’s assassination incident, she could tell how different Kapak was from most.

“I was once taken to the cities as a labor slave,” Kapak said casually.

“So I ended up having more exposure than most of my people. It’s only natural I’d learn a bit more.”

“Those so-called ‘civilized folk’ enslaved you, and now you want to make peace with them? Back in my day, you’d be a disgrace,” Harald interjected from nearby, floating over his own plate.

“If someone treated me like that, I’d have taken my axe to a thousand of them.”

“I did punish those who enslaved me. The grudge ends there. I won’t extend that hatred to the innocent,” Kapak replied with slight irritation.

“And I wasn’t the only one enslaved. Many of their own people were too.”

“Tch… whatever you say…” Harald muttered dismissively.

Nephthys, watching the exchange, turned curiously to Harald.

“Mister Harald… you don’t seem like a native of this continent, do you? Your attire resembles artifacts I’ve unearthed in archaeological digs around the North Sea. You weren’t originally from Starfall, were you?”

“Of course not!” Harald said bluntly.

“I came here to raid and kill, not to sit around waiting to be killed!”

Nephthys pressed on.

“When we met earlier, you said you were a warrior under the Northern Emperor Inut. Could you tell me about this Emperor Inut? Was he the one who led you to this land? And why?”

When Nephthys posed the critical question, Harald visibly perked up with excitement and exclaimed.

“Ha! You want to hear the tale of the Great Emperor? Perfect! Let me tell it to you. After a few thousand years, I doubt many still know his legend—that simply won’t do!”

Clearly pleased, Harald struck a dramatic pose, as if gathering his thoughts, then began to speak once more.

“Hmm… where to begin… How do those old bards usually start their tales again? Bah, forgotten. No matter. Just remember this: Inut—the Frost Warrior—was the greatest and most valiant champion the North Sea peoples ever birthed. None could rival his might. He was a warlord so legendary, he was akin to a god!

“Inut was born into an age of darkness and chaos, a time when countless monsters ran rampant across the land. He hailed from one of the tribes of the North Sea. From birth, he had command over frost and snow, a power unlike any other. He was strong beyond measure and feared nothing. Even as a youth, he defeated countless foes and earned the right to lead his tribe. But he refused. He left his people and embarked on a journey to seek the truth behind his unique power.

“According to the epic sagas, Inut endured endless trials, slew fearsome beasts, plundered kings’ treasures, and held many beauties in his arms. He survived the schemes of traitors and turned them to his advantage with vengeance.

“As he traveled, he forged legends and sought the origin of his might. Among his many companions, one stood out—the strongest, a warrior from the south who wielded the magic of fire and light. They were close friends. Together they slew a man-eating octopus kraken and destroyed a cult that tried to summon a fire giant to burn the world.

“Eventually, at the farthest reaches of the northern world, Inut followed a mysterious calling to a forbidden frozen land, where he believed his true power resided. In North Sea legend… the far north is home to the tombs of ancient dragons.

“No one knows what Inut did in that sacred, icy land. But when he returned, he had gained the ability to transform into a dragon! The frost and snow he commanded grew so powerful that they could plunge the world into an eternal winter!

“Returning as a dragon, Inut swept through the North Sea. He obliterated monsters that had plagued the land for centuries, repelled a destructive evil god, and in the blink of an eye, united all North Sea tribes. Before all his people, he was crowned the Supreme King—the King of the North Sea!

“Then, Inut led a southern campaign, conquering vast territories and founding his own empire. He came to rule nearly the entire northern continent and became known to all as the Northern Emperor. But when he tried to push farther south, to conquer the world itself, he encountered his destined rival.

“That rival… was the Emperor of the South, master of fire and light—the same southern warrior Inut had once journeyed alongside. While Inut had transformed into a dragon and conquered the north, the southern warrior too had grown strong, establishing his own empire in the south.

“Inut’s campaign was stopped by the King of Light and Flame. Though once comrades, they became enemies in their ambition to rule the world. The entire continent became their battleground. Their war stretched from the surface to the world’s underside and lasted over a hundred years—it was the greatest war ever fought!

“In this epic war, Inut and the King of Light and Flame clashed many times—but neither could defeat the other. That is, until an unknown turning point when the southern king gained new power. His command over light became absolute. He could summon flames and sunlight, and even the sun itself began to bend to his will. With blazing heat, he melted the frost of the dragon. Inut began to falter.

“In one final battle, Inut’s dragon form—the Frost Wyrm—was shot down by the Sun Arrow of the King of Light and Flame. He fell into a bay and died.

“But before death could claim him, Inut mastered the secrets of mortality. Through a forbidden ritual, he suspended his state, delaying death. He returned from the battlefield, rallied his warriors, and withdrew back to the North Sea. The King of Light and Flame didn’t pursue, likely occupied with other threats.

“That first true defeat ignited a burning need within Inut. The Sun Arrow’s wound seared constantly, a reminder that he was already dead in spirit and that true death crept ever closer. To escape it—and to one day defeat the King of Light and Flame—Inut began searching for new power.

“And finally, he found it. His gaze turned westward… to the distant land beyond the ocean, untouched by war—the continent of Starfall.”

Mimicking the grand tone of long-forgotten bards, Harald recounted the saga of the once-unstoppable Northern King. Nephthys listened with rapt attention.

“So… Inut sailed for Starfall to escape death and to gain the strength to defeat the King of Light. What happened next? Did he succeed?”

Nephthys asked eagerly, but Harald suddenly fell silent, his expression grave. At that moment, Kapak—who had been quietly seated—spoke.

“I’ll tell the rest of the story.”

“You? You actually know it?”

Nephthys said, surprised.

“My teacher told me parts of it. In fact, it ties into why the Grand Wild Rite is being held so suddenly. I was going to explain it to you anyway, might as well now.”

Kapak’s expression turned serious, and Nephthys nodded in understanding. Seeing this, Kapak continued.

“Our tribe has lived on this land for generations, upholding ancient traditions and living in harmony with the spirits and nature. Even thousands of years ago, our ancestors experienced little conflict—until the Frost Dragon King descended upon us, freezing the sea and leading an invasion of immense scale. We call him the King of the Ice Sea.

“He came from across the ocean and brought a war like nothing this peaceful land had ever known. Scattered tribes were no match for his ruthless army. Our ancestors resisted with everything they had, shedding blood to defend their homes, but they were no match. Vast swaths of land fell to the Ice Sea King.

“As he ravaged our lands, he searched for something. Eventually, he found it—our ancestral homeland, our sacred land, the Stairway to the Great Soul. He turned his army toward the Ancestral Valley. That’s when all the tribes united for the first time under a single leader.

“His name was Takaoma, a tribal chief renowned for his valor against the invaders. Thanks to his heroic deeds, he was chosen as supreme commander of the united tribes. He led the resistance, doing everything in his power to delay the Ice Sea King’s advance.

“The King had godlike power. Though his strength had waned due to grave injuries and the weight of death, he was still no match for mortals. Takaoma’s forces couldn’t stop him, but they bought time. Time enough for the true spirit guardian of the valley to complete an ancient ritual.

“And in that ritual, the emissaries of the Great Soul awoke from their slumber: Suun, the Soul-Burier, and Nab, the Wordbearer.”

“Suun the Soul-Burier? Nab the Wordbearer? These… they’re emissaries of the Great Soul? Are they… gods?”

Nephthys asked in astonishment. Kapak nodded solemnly and went on.

“Yes. Suun, the Soul Eagle, and Nab, the Soul Tongue. They are the Great Soul’s loyal messengers—and the guardian deities of all the tribes.

“Legend says Suun maintains the balance between life and death. It commands all souls, guiding them to return properly to the Great Soul. It corrects and eliminates all deformities in the natural cycle of life and death. It is the keeper of death’s order—and in its slumber, it guides each soul toward return. It is said to appear as a vast divine eagle.

“Nab, the Wordbearer, represents judgment against those who defy the order. Through divine speech, it weaves connections between all things—granting blessings or curses. It can bring widespread death to make room for more life. It is said to enforce balance by taking away lives that disrupt harmony. It is often portrayed as a towering giant.”

“I see…”

Kapak explained everything to Nephthys with utmost seriousness. As she listened, Nephthys nodded with great interest, clearly inviting him to continue. Taking her cue, Kapak resumed the tale.

“After Suun and Nab—the guardian deities of all the continent’s peoples—awoke, they descended onto the battlefield and confronted the King of the Ice Sea directly. In a fierce and glorious battle, they finally defeated him. Before the gods who governed death, the Ice Sea King could no longer delay his own end.

“The King of the Ice Sea was thus destroyed. But the story doesn’t end there. Do you remember Takaoma, the one I mentioned earlier? He was the chosen leader of the tribes during the war. But after the King of the Ice Sea perished, he didn’t relinquish his authority.

“Once Suun and Nab returned to slumber, and the enemy’s death brought the war to a close, Takaoma refused to step down. His reasoning was that the era had changed—that the old, scattered tribal system could no longer meet the needs of the new age. It was time for reform.

“Takaoma believed that the people of this land should follow the example of the invaders’ homelands: to create a unified nation. Only such a nation, he argued, could resist the next great threat and confront any future crisis.

“The tribes, still traumatized by the recent war and eager to avoid future helplessness, agreed. Takaoma's personal prestige, earned through his valor, ensured widespread support. In the aftermath of war, countless tribes accepted his leadership, uniting under a single ‘nation,’ and Takaoma became its ‘king.’

“Once he ascended the throne, Takaoma moved swiftly. He stripped the tribes of power, punished those who refused to submit, standardized written language across the land, and followed the example of Main Continent kingdoms by gathering scattered people into organized ‘cities.’

“His reforms were effective. Within less than a century, Takaoma’s realm spanned most of the continent. Many cities flourished under his rule. He replaced the revered tribal shamans, merging the roles of supreme shaman and king. From then on, he called himself the ‘King of Souls.’ To the people of the land, he was revered almost as a god—his worship even surpassing that of the Great Soul itself.

“Yet all of this was still not enough for him. Across the ocean lay an even larger continent untouched by his rule. Driven by ambition, Takaoma built a fleet under the banner of revenge, determined to conquer the homeland of the once-invading empires.

“But by then, that continent had already unified under the rising Sun King, whose massive empire was only growing. Takaoma’s expedition was met by this rising power—and his ambitions were crushed.

“Though Takaoma had become a true shaman and could draw upon the Great Soul’s power, he was no match for the Sun King and his empire. The defeat was swift. Takaoma didn’t even face the Sun King in person before his army was utterly destroyed. He barely escaped with his life.

“Instead of remorse, the loss only twisted Takaoma further. Traumatized by defeat before even meeting his rival, his nature changed drastically. He became ruthless and cruel, blaming his weakness for the loss and seeking even greater power.

“Using his position, he began to secretly study the Great Soul, hoping to extract more power from it.

“To this day, we still don’t know what Takaoma uncovered. But that was when his true madness began to show.

“He went into seclusion and ordered that dozens of people be sent daily to his retreat in the Ancestral Valley. No one who entered ever returned. The kingdom grew fearful.

“Over time, his demands increased—from dozens per day to hundreds, then even thousands. His agents scoured the land, rounding up the innocent to meet his growing needs.

“This reign of terror sparked a nationwide uprising. Resistance movements rose, outraged by his disregard for life. Takaoma’s regime tried to quell dissent by distributing food—but it was no use. War erupted once more across the land.

“The fighting was bitter. City after city fell to the rebellion, which soon reached the Ancestral Valley. In a final assault, the heroic general Manutu broke through the loyalists’ defenses and reached the heart of the valley. There, he beheld a sight that would haunt him forever.

“The tyrant king, Takaoma, sat on his throne deep in the sacred land. But his body was nearly gone—only his head and part of his spine remained, twisted grotesquely around the seat. Yet he still lived. Sustained by dark sorcery, he mocked Manutu with just his head, provoking the hero’s fury.

“Overwhelmed with rage, Manutu rushed forward and crushed the tyrant’s skull and throne with his warhammer. Thus, Takaoma died—at least as a living man.”

“…That kind of person… died just like that?”

Nephthys murmured, her brow furrowed in disbelief. Kapak nodded solemnly.

“Yes. That marked the end of Takaoma’s time among the living. But for him, death wasn’t the end. At the very moment of his demise, across the kingdom’s cities—loyalists and rebels, soldiers and civilians alike—people began dying en masse. Even many standing near Manutu perished instantly.

“The war came to an abrupt halt. So many had died in that single moment that neither side could continue fighting. Death blanketed the land. Takaoma’s cities became lifeless zones. His vast capital was left completely silent.

“Stunned and confused by this outcome, Manutu investigated—and uncovered what Takaoma had done.

“Takaoma had ordered that his own flesh be cut away, bit by bit, and mixed into food given to the tribute victims. These victims were then killed, and their flesh—tainted by his own—was fed to more people. Eventually, their remains were ground down and distributed throughout the nation in rations.

“This was a horrific cannibalistic ritual. Through it, Takaoma bound his soul to countless others across the kingdom. They had unknowingly consumed part of him. By the time of his death, most of the population had, in some way, ingested him.

“Their souls became linked to his. So when he died, so did they. Over two-thirds of the nation—hundreds of millions—perished with him. The death toll far surpassed that of the War of the Ice Sea.”

“H-Hundreds of millions… all died at once? That… that madman’s death dragged so many down with him?”

Nephthys said, horrified. Kapak, however, remained calm as he continued.

“Takaoma was cruel, yes—but not insane. Everything he did had a purpose. He wanted to ensure that when death came for him… he would have enough weight on the scales.”

“Weight...?”

Nephthys echoed, puzzled by Kapak’s words. Kapak responded at once.

“Yes—weight to gain power from within the Great Soul and maintain his existence. Takaoma’s death was meticulously orchestrated. At the moment of his demise, using his status as a true spirit shaman, he activated another ritual that opened a special stairway from the Ancestral Valley to the inner core of the Great Soul. Through the devouring of over a hundred million souls, his monstrous soul bypassed the countless powerful defenses and restrictions at the outer layers of the Great Soul and invaded its very core.

“And just like that, the most powerful evil spirit in history broke into the central structure of the Great Soul. There, it awakened countless stored memories and stirred the yearning for life within many other souls still undergoing reincarnation. By promising to return them to the living world, it incited a revolt from within the Great Soul!

“That wicked spirit, like a parasite, began eroding and devouring the Great Soul from within—its goal to infect and eventually usurp it entirely, to replace the Great Soul and become the new sovereign of death and all souls in this world!”

“To… usurp the Great Soul!? That’s even possible!?”

Nephthys gasped, wide-eyed.

“But isn’t the Great Soul a supreme deity? How can something like an evil spirit possibly take over a god!?”

Kapak fell silent for a moment, then continued.

“According to Master Uta… this method wouldn’t work on any other god. Even if Takaoma consumed billions of souls and reached their divine core, the sheer gap between human and deity would be insurmountable. The will of a god would simply annihilate the invading spirit.

“But the Great Soul is different. It is the only one among the gods without a consciousness. It exists purely as a mechanism, a natural law, operating in accordance with eternal principles. In the words of those from the Main Continent… the Great Soul is like a precise machine that maintains the world’s laws of life, death, and spirit. What the great evil spirit attempted was to take over the operating system—assimilate it into itself.”

Kapak explained carefully. Nephthys paused, stunned by this revelation, before asking in disbelief.

“A… machine? The Great Soul functions like a machine? But it’s such a vast and vital deity—how could it not have self-awareness? Why would it be like that?”

“That… even teacher doesn’t know,” Kapak replied.

Just then, Harald, who had been silently listening, finally interjected.

“I know a bit about that. I once spoke with the sage who guided the Great Emperor to this continent in search of power. He’d realized the Great Soul’s nature, which is why he told the Emperor to come and seize it. According to him, the Great Soul did have awareness a long time ago, but for reasons unknown, it gave that up and chose to become a purely law-bound construct.

“To become the embodiment of impartial law is to resist decay and decline—I think that’s what the guy said. It’s exactly because the Great Soul became what it is that the Emperor wanted to take it. Honestly, instead of letting it be eaten up by scum like Takaoma, they should’ve just handed it over to the Emperor in the first place. At least he didn’t want to turn the world into a realm of undead…”

Harald scoffed with a hint of disdain. Nephthys thought for a moment, then turned to Kapak again.

“So what happened next? That evil spirit… surely it didn’t succeed in taking over the Great Soul, right?”

Kapak continued.

“The Great Soul is a natural law, and Suun the Soul-Burier and Nab the Wordbearer are its supreme guardians. Typically, they slumber deeply and only awaken when summoned by a true spirit shaman—or when the Great Soul itself is in danger. So when the evil spirit began wreaking havoc within, they awoke even without a summoning.

“But by then, the Great Soul’s core was already breached. The evil spirit, having merged with part of the core, could manipulate the Great Soul’s power and began resisting the guardians. Even partial control over the Great Soul made it hard for Suun and Nab to fight back. They battled the possessed Great Soul within the Netherworld, but were gradually overpowered. As the corruption deepened, hope faded.

“Then, brilliant radiance pierced the gloom of the Netherworld—sunlight broke through the realm’s barriers and illuminated the land of death. The Divine Sun King descended in his divine chariot.

“The corruption of the Great Soul had disrupted the entire world. In the mortal realm, the cycle of life and death was broken, countless corpses rose as undead and began devouring the living. Every body on earth stood up at once, turning the world into a land of death, including within the vast empire of the Divine Sun King.

“Realizing something was wrong, the King observed all worlds and located the source of the disturbance. He descended into the Netherworld to confront the possessed Great Soul alongside the guardians.

“His power was overwhelming. Even the Great Soul was forced to yield. The guardians seized the opportunity to enter the Great Soul’s inner structure and attempt to expel the evil spirit. But it had already entwined itself too deeply with the core. It couldn’t be removed by force.

“In the end, Nab the Wordbearer made a great sacrifice. With Suun’s help, he cut out the corrupted section of the Great Soul and cast it out. The corruption was halted—but the Great Soul was left fragile.

“That severed, tainted portion… The Divine Sun King wished to destroy it immediately. But Suun stopped him. That part, even if corrupted, was still fundamentally tied to the Great Soul. Destroying it with brute force could destabilize the already weakened structure, throwing the laws of life and death into chaos.

“The Great Soul’s stability is one of the pillars holding the world together. So the Divine Sun King agreed. Together with Suun, they entrusted the God of Craft to forge a seal.

“Legend says the God of Craft used Nab’s remains and the Divine Sun King’s divine power to forge a black coffin. Into it, they sealed the corrupted portion of the Great Soul and buried it deep within the Inner Realm, to be purified when a proper method was found.

“With the evil spirit sealed, the Divine Sun King returned to his empire. Suun, the Soul-Burier, began carefully healing and restoring the Great Soul. Meanwhile, the kingdom forged by the evil spirit collapsed into ruin after countless calamities and deaths. The cities were abandoned. The survivors returned to tribal life, passing on the story from generation to generation… until today.”

“A black coffin…?”

Nephthys caught the keyword.

“That’s—could that be… the origin of the Nether Coffin Order?”

Kapak nodded gravely.

“Yes. According to the teacher, the now-active global evil cult, the Nether Coffin, likely worships the one sealed within that black coffin—the evil god who once tried to usurp the divine and caused countless disasters: Takaoma.

“Teacher believes Takaoma still holds part of the Great Soul’s authority. His power surpasses that of most gods. The black coffin was never meant to seal him forever. It merely delayed his return. The gods once intended to find a way to purify him…

“But for unknown reasons, the Main Continent fell into prolonged unrest. And then… the Divine Sun King vanished. With him gone, the purification plan was abandoned. That black coffin has now held the evil god for thousands of years—and the power inside… may no longer be fully contained.”

Kapak’s face was grim as he finished. A heavy silence followed.

Nephthys stood frozen in place, stunned by all she had heard. Only after a long pause did she speak.

“All of this… was told to you by Shaman Uta?”

“Yes,” Kapak nodded.

“Teacher told me everything… then left ahead of us for the Ancestral Valley. Before he went, he asked me to get Aka’s blessing and to make sure I relayed every detail of this to you.”

Nephthys frowned thoughtfully.

“For a supposedly ‘ordinary’ tribal shaman… Uta knows an awful lot about ancient secrets. Compared to those errand boys in the White Ash ranks on the Main Continent… He’s on another level. Is that just how shamans are here?”

Her confusion hung in the air. At that, Harald chimed in bluntly.

“Heh… ordinary shamans don’t know how to summon someone like me. That Uta guy—he’s not just some shaman.”

As his words sank in, both Kapak and Nephthys fell into quiet contemplation.

…

Northern Coast of the Main Continent, Frisland.

Night had fallen along the shores of Dragon Severance Bay. In a luxury suite of a hotel somewhere in Aransdel, Dorothy—dressed in a breezy white sundress—sat at the balcony table. As she admired the glittering lights dotting the banks of the nearby canal, she also quietly mulled over the vital information she had recently obtained.

“The Northern Emperor Inut… the Evil Spirit King Takaoma… the Great Soul… Suun the Soul-Burier… Nab the Wordbearer…

“I never expected that within the Silence domain, such a conflict had once occurred. Judging by the timeline, this should’ve been in the early Third Epoch. At the beginning of the tale, Hyperion—the King of Light—was still a mortal adventurer, and by the end, he had already become the Divine Sun King in the eyes of the Shamanic faith…

“Inut and Takaoma… both were once rivals of Hyperion. Apart from them, there must’ve been many other kings of all kinds in that era. But in the end, it was Hyperion who stood above the rest…”

So pondered Dorothy. The information from Uta had not only vastly expanded her understanding of the history of the Silence domain, but had also revealed unexpected new details about Hyperion.

“And the state of the Great Soul… It’s actually an autonomous system without self-awareness?! If what that ancient North Sea man said is true, then perhaps the Great Soul took that form as a way to resist the fall. Suun and Nab’s prolonged slumber might also be part of that resistance—an insurance policy of sorts during its unconscious operation…

“To resist the fall, these gods really went all out, even to the point of abandoning their own will… But if there are so many diverse ways to resist the fall, then why did Heaven’s Arbiter choose the most extreme path—suicide? Didn’t it have any alternative options?”

These were the thoughts swirling in Dorothy’s mind. With such crucial revelations in hand, her first instinct was to share them with one of her greatest allies, Artcheli. Unfortunately, the information was so toxic that it maxed out any known “cognitive poison” metrics, and Artcheli still refused to pray to Aka for protection. That left Dorothy in a bit of a bind.

“Seriously… why be so stubborn? Cognitive poison immunity is amazing, isn’t it?”

Grumbling inwardly, Dorothy reached for the Literary Sea Logbook on the table, flipped to her contact page with Artcheli, and found a freshly written response waiting for her.

“I’ve already looked into the name you mentioned earlier. Sixty years ago, the Inquisitor named Vambas who came to Frisland with Sinclair was indeed the one who now goes by the name Inquisition Cardinal Kramar. Back then, the two of them seemed to be reformists within the Inquisitor faction…”