Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Chapter 811 : The Plague Vulture

In South Ufiga, during the Fourth Epoch, the Radiance Church, which had long dominated the material world, was now waging its second Great Holy War in several centuries. Thanks to the immense accumulation of power over the years—and the strong support of the White Craftsmen’s Guild—the Church’s Holy Army had achieved overwhelming advantages across all battlefronts.

As the target of this crusade, the Mother of Chalice cult was under immense military pressure. Only after their Gold-rank forces joined the fray were they able to stabilize their lines. But even so, they remained at a disadvantage. To reverse the tide of battle, the cult needed more power—and that opportunity was about to arrive.

In the cult’s central domain, within the grotesque, twisted Blood-Limb Temple, a massive ritual circle formed from countless intertwined human limbs writhed. At its center, Unina, the highest-ranking mortal leader of the cult, was solemnly performing a ritual—guiding immense power, once sealed beyond the world, down into the material realm.

“Born within the womb of the Great Mother…

O three Venerable Progenitors…

The veil of realms is thin…

The cruel Light is weakened…

For the sake of the Mother’s grand destiny…

Descend into this world…

Ye who hunger…

Ye who thirst…

Ye who rot…

Reveal your sacred forms…

Drench the seas in red…

Devour the blazing sun…

Corrupt the earth…

End this tyranny of Light once and for all!”

Her voice, filled with desperate longing and fervent desire, echoed through the temple. As she chanted, the countless arms growing from the bloodstained ritual circle rose, swaying like wild grass, forming various arcane gestures.

Unina’s prayers were echoed by countless mouths growing from various parts of the temple. Together, they recited her invocations in unison, their chant resonating across space—piercing through into inner realms and even reaching the deep layers beneath the world’s skin.

These voices became conduits, pathways—guiding divine power into descent. Yet the process was not without obstacles.

In an inner realm close to the physical world, a dark, murky, featureless void existed. Within it, several vast forces were on the move.

From the depths of this miasmic void, three immense blood-red beams of light surged forward at great speed. One was dim, one was tinged with a dull blue glow, and the third shimmered with a ghostly green hue.

These three beams pierced the spatial veil and were about to exit the realm into another, when an unexpected anomaly occurred.

A fourth beam of light—even brighter, brassy-gold, and far larger—shot from the opposite direction. It was aimed directly at the three blood-red lights, which were clearly in a hurry. Upon sensing the golden light, the three red beams immediately accelerated.

But even with that burst of speed, the golden light was faster. Within moments, it caught up—and the four beams collided violently.

In that instant, four great divine powers clashed in the void, shaking the entire domain. Space fractured beneath the weight of their conflict, tearing open massive fissures that revealed glimpses into other inner realms.

Steel, blood tides, roars, and plague—these four forces battled furiously. The three red powers joined forces to surround and eliminate the golden force, hoping for a swift kill.

Despite their advantage, the red triad couldn’t destroy the golden force quickly. Each time they tried to break away and continue their mission, the golden power would catch up again and resume the chase.

Ultimately, in the wake of destruction and broken realms, a decisive moment arrived. In the midst of the crumbling domain, three divine bodies began to take shape from their pure energy forms.

First: a colossal, multi-headed serpent, over a thousand meters thick and of unfathomable length, its body stretching into the void. Each of its nine heads bore blood-colored faces on its scales, all of them glaring in the same direction.

Second: a massive black-furred demonic wolf, tens of kilometers long, covered in dark red sigils, with five enormous heads. Between its fangs dripped drool, thick with hunger. The wolf’s five gazes also turned in the same direction.

And in the distance they watched: an enormous construct, larger than most moons—a mechanical planet. On its surface, vast factories operated without pause, mountain-sized gears grinding in perfect sync. Rivers of molten metal flowed into ancient runes etched across its shell. Suspended along its thousand-kilometer “equator” was a massive forging ring—a structure resembling a monumental eye forged from steel and orbiting like a satellite.

As the Snake God and Wolf God stared, the Core of Order emitted a thunderous hum that echoed across realms. Its divine furnace surged into overdrive, and the infinite factory began churning at full capacity—ready to produce endless war machines to wage battle against the flesh-and-blood deities.

And so, of the four divine forces clashing in the inner realms, three revealed their divine forms for battle—while the fourth power, oddly enough, did not yet appear on this battlefield.

…

Back in the physical realm—South Ufiga.

The holy war raged on with no sign of relenting. The intensity only escalated with the involvement of the Gold-rank enemies.

On the western front, over the vast bay, a primordial clash of water and fire was unfolding.

Countless waterspouts twisted skyward from the ocean, forming together into a hundred-meter-wide serpent of water, which surged and thrashed across the bay—trying to crush the fleet below.

Meanwhile, from the overcast heavens, countless flames rained down like divine punishment, merging into a gigantic fire dragon that clashed with the water serpent. They wrestled and coiled in the skies above, blanketing the bay in burning steam. Without their powerful protections, the soldiers of the fleet would have been boiled alive.

Protected by advanced equipment, the ships pressed forward through the infernal battlefield.

On the northern front, the ground split open as a gigantic mutated insect, one of the Gold-rank entities, beat its wings and soared into the skies, rising to the level of the air fleet. Around it billowed a thick, dark green miasma of rotting plague gas, unleashed in waves across the jungle, threatening to engulf the entire region.

This pestilent fog was filled with microscopic pathogens—extensions of the creature’s own will. These microbes were capable of corroding armor at terrifying speeds and invading flesh, causing irreversible mutations and death.

Aboard the Annihilation Nun, Amanda stood on the bridge and, with a single glance, realized how dangerous the mist was. She had seen corrosive fog before—but nothing this powerful. If the fog covered the battlefield, it would obliterate both the ground forces and even threaten the air fleet.

Facing the oncoming death cloud, Amanda’s eyes gleamed. A phantom white serpent coiled around her, and her power surged skyward—spreading across the heavens to purify the plague mist with redemptive light, neutralizing the deadly microbes one by one.

Amanda held back the falling death. Above the jungle, the skies remained shrouded in dark green clouds, but they couldn’t descend further—they were held in place by an invisible force, unable to touch the ground.

While Amanda stopped the fog from spreading, the fleet below and anti-air ground units launched every kind of anti-air barrage—steel shells, scorching beams—but none had any effect. The metal was quickly corroded, and the plague fog, now Gold-rank, even began devouring energy itself.

For the time being, Amanda and the Gold-rank plague monster that spread deadly disease had entered a sort of stalemate. After realizing that continuous firepower had little effect, the Church’s Holy Army on the ground ceased attacking the monster and instead pressed forward—shielded by Amanda’s “umbrella”—steadily advancing toward their southern objective.

…

On the western and northern fronts, the Holy Army had been attacked by the Gold-rank forces of the Mother of Chalice, but thanks to the decisive actions of the respective cardinals commanding each front, the impact of the enemy Golds was relatively contained.

However, the situation on the eastern front was less favorable.

Across the vast, seemingly endless eastern plains, a dazzling and blinding “sun on earth” was currently wreaking havoc. The entire flat landscape was bathed in a radiance so intense that no one could open their eyes—even the sun in the sky seemed dim compared to this overwhelming glow.

This kind of light phenomenon would normally be mistaken for a Church weapon—but strangely, it was not. The blinding light rampaged through the Holy Army’s own formations, destroying armored units in its path. Occasionally, it would even leap into the air and strike down airborne warships. If it weren’t for the shadow-based armor adaptations allowing troops to merge into their own shadows for protection, the damage would have been incalculable.

“Hahaha! What’s the matter, Shadow Cardinal?! Is this all you’ve got? Look! Who shines brighter now?!”

Across the battlefield, the glowing figure chased a streak of shadow slithering along the ground. Shadow-forged blades retaliated from within the darkness, but the overwhelming light greatly weakened them, and they were ultimately swallowed by the blinding core. The radiance mocked without mercy.

“Wolfthroat Gaytt… the oldest of the Mother of Chalice’s Gold-rank members… a survivor of the Holy War four hundred years ago… and now, he returns in this form…”

Moving at high speed in shadow form, Cardinal of Secrets Artcheli dodged Gaytt’s relentless pursuit while mentally combing through everything she had learned about the cult’s members.

“Before Unina reappeared in the physical world, this guy was theoretically the strongest of the three Gold-rank apostles… Back in the last Holy War, he devoured countless Church personnel—including several Crimson archbishops and even part of the then-Holy War Cardinal’s body… That flesh probably hasn’t fully digested even now… which is why he can release such overwhelming light… He may have undergone some adaptive enhancements… this guy’s a real pain…”

Indeed, her analysis wasn’t wrong—aside from Unina, Gaytt was the strongest mortal power within the cult.

Having devoured numerous high-ranking Radiance Church members during the Muddy Stream War, and consumed countless Lantern spiritual storage items, Gaytt could now release immensely concentrated and pure mystical light, transforming himself into a living super-luminal bulb.

Now, every inch of Gaytt’s body radiated intense mystical light, scattering all shadows around him and making him a “shadowless wolf”—which severely limited Artcheli, who relied on shadows in combat.

Without shadows, Artcheli could not teleport via shadow strikes, manipulate her enemy’s shadow into betrayal, or impale him with shadow spikes to lock him in place. Even when she created shadow blades to strike him directly, the radiant light weakened them to the point of near-ineffectiveness—they were absorbed before dealing damage.

Earlier, Gaytt had been tricked by the Twilight Devotion’s illusion and fell into a shadow trap Artcheli had set. But even that was undone by his omnidirectional radiance.

In short, facing this Gold-rank werewolf saturated with spiritual Lantern, Artcheli had no reliable counter-strategy. All she could do was protect the Holy Army, teleporting troops via shadow to farther positions to bypass Gaytt and continue the advance into the cult’s territory.

“Damn it… why is it always me who ends up with the toughest opponent…” 

She couldn’t help but curse internally. Of the cult’s three Golds, Gaytt was the hardest to deal with—and she just happened to draw him. Or perhaps he had been specifically assigned to counter her, as his abilities completely nullified hers.

As Artcheli engaged Gaytt in a tactical stalemate, reinforcements from the Holy Army joined in. Tanks on the ground and warships in the sky opened fire on the moving beacon of light that was Gaytt. Though they succeeded in wounding him, his regeneration was so powerful that he healed instantly, then retaliated with searing light beams from his three mouths, destroying tanks and crashing warships.

At a critical moment, Artcheli emerged from a shadow and slashed with a condensed shadow longsword, intercepting and severing Gaytt’s light beams. She then reabsorbed the sword, split it into shadow daggers, and hurled them at the radiant werewolf.

The daggers moved fast—but as soon as they entered his light field, they began to weaken rapidly. Gaytt casually opened his mouth and swallowed them all, then unleashed several slashing waves of light with his claws, tearing toward Artcheli.

She was struck by the wave and shattered into fragments—only to dissipate into shadow mist, a decoy. At the same moment, from beneath Gaytt’s feet, shadow swords burst forth, emerging from cracks in the earth.

Artcheli had used natural fissures to shadow-step underground, launching a surprise attack from below. This minimized the time her shadows were exposed to Gaytt’s radiant field.

Even so, the shadow swords were still weakened when passing through the light. Though they did manage to wound Gaytt, it wasn’t enough to seriously harm him. He regenerated quickly, raised his paw, and smashed the ground.

The earth erupted violently, sending shattered debris flying skyward. Artcheli, hidden underground, was blasted upward. Gaytt then opened his massive jaws, creating a powerful vacuum pressure vortex, sucking everything nearby toward him.

Artcheli was dragged midair, barely avoiding being pulled in by anchoring herself with shadow chains attached to new fissures. All the while, she had to parry light-blade strikes with her sword. The pressure was immense.

“This is getting troublesome… Are you ready yet, Alberto?!”

Gritting her teeth, she shouted.

And far above, in orbit—beyond the atmosphere of South Ufiga—a calm voice answered.

“Ah… just about. Don’t worry, Secrets Cardinal. Different battlefields need different ritual setups, that’s all…”

In the planetary orbit above South Ufiga, a modest, blocky-looking Saint Steel Vessel, resembling interlocking bricks, hovered silently. From its observation bay, it gazed down at the battlefield. Inside, Cardinal Alberto, masked and composed, responded softly.

With a wave of his hand, a complex Stone array activated beneath him. Below the ship, numerous thick, multi-jointed mechanical arms extended, forming intricate hand gestures that traced mystical runes into space.

As these arms worked, on the ground below, an invisible force carved an enormous ritual array—over a kilometer in diameter—into the plains, trapping both Artcheli and Gaytt at its center. The pattern matched the one beneath Alberto’s feet exactly.

The instant the array activated, the entire battlefield rumbled. Shattered ground erupted, and tons of rock surged toward Gaytt from every direction, encasing him in a massive stone sphere, compressing tighter and tighter.

“What?!”

Gaytt began struggling furiously, smashing the boulders apart. But even his searing heat wasn’t enough—he failed to break free. The massive stones, though melting rapidly, formed a thick crust, obscuring his radiance.

In that moment, his light dimmed drastically.

Sensing her chance, Artcheli’s eyes narrowed. Her shadow longsword flared to life, and she lunged—fully on the offensive. Without interference from the radiant field, her blade struck true, slicing Gaytt’s body into pieces and drawing a horrific howl from the werewolf.

This Saint Steel Vessel was the Stride-Forging Sacred Stone, under Alberto’s command—one of the Church’s most powerful tactical fortresses, specializing in long-range ritual construction.

From orbit, it could project ritual arrays onto any point of the planet’s surface—just like this one, providing overwhelming support to allies.

Of course, Alberto’s influence wasn’t limited to Artcheli’s battlefield alone.

“Now then… with everything calibrated, we can move to the next stage…”

With a whisper, Alberto waved his hand again. A new ritual circle lit up beneath him, and the Stride-Forging Sacred Stone’s mechanical arms began rapidly rotating—drawing another large-scale sigil onto the surface below.

…

On the northern front, deep within the dense forests, the jungle was being pressed into shape by an invisible force, forming a mysterious ritual array. As powerful spell formations were swiftly deployed and activated, the Saint Steel Vessel at the center—Annihilation Nun—underwent a transformation. A semi-transparent shield with an earthy yellow glow materialized around it.

“Ivy, go in.”

“Understood, Your Excellency!”

Following Amanda's command, Ivy accelerated the massive vessel forward, charging straight into the thick fungal cloud in the sky. The moment it pierced into the dark green cloud layer, the corrosive miasma began eating away at the hull—but was temporarily held at bay by the powerful shield.

Under protection from the shield and Amanda’s purifying powers, Ivy shot through the deadly mist at high speed. When it finally burst out the other side, a deformed giant insect was latched onto the vessel’s bow.

The grotesque insect had been forcibly dragged out of its protective miasma by the charge. It let out a shrill, wretched screech. Ivy wasted no time—a pair of massive steel harpoons shot out from the ship’s prow, impaling the creature, and injecting it with a specially formulated serum prepared by Amanda.

Amanda then reached out her hand toward the shrieking insect and unleashed her power—tearing apart and reconstructing its tissues at great speed.

…

On the western front, the surging sea began to reflect a grand ritual formation triggered by mysterious forces. From within that array, enormous stones rose up from the ocean floor, breaking through the waves. These titanic blocks of sand and rock melted under intense heat, shaping and forging themselves midair.

By the time they reached the sky, these vast sand-rock masses had transformed into solid armor plates. The plates then attached themselves to the rampaging elemental fire dragon, wrapping its flames in glowing steel armor. The radiant plating shielded it from the attacking water serpent.

At the same time, the Saint Steel Vessel World-Cleansing Flame, which had been bombarding from afar, began to change. Already sword-shaped, its blade-like body transformed further—radiant light-blades extended from the edges, and the tail morphed into a long, sturdy “hilt”, turning the entire ship into a true greatsword.

With a roar, the now-armored elemental fire dragon reached out its gauntleted arms and grabbed the flying “Saint Steel Sword”, then swung it in a mighty slash, unleashing a brilliant arc of light that vaporized its entangled opponent.

Thanks to Alberto’s timely intervention, the tide of battle shifted once more. The warfronts that the cult had stabilized using their Gold-rank forces were now collapsing—all three battle lines were pushed to the brink. Against the full weight of the Radiance Church’s war preparedness, the Gold-rank invaders found themselves in grave peril.

But even now, Unina, Matriarch of the Mother of Chalice cult and master of the Blood-Limb Temple, did not panic. For she knew—no matter what advantages the Radiance Church seized, it was meaningless. The true overwhelming power that would overturn the entire war… had already descended.

“It’s here… it’s here… answering my prayer… descend now, O one born of the Mother’s womb… One of the Three Venerated Progeny…

“Break through the false shackles of Radiance, descend again upon this world, and spread your all-consuming rot to every living thing. Let all mortal life kneel beneath the wings of the Lord of Plague…

“Clear the path for our Great Mother!”

As Unina’s fanatic chant rose in fervor, the sky above the Blood-Limb Temple began to transform. The once-dim sky was now tinted dark green, and space itself began to ripple and bulge with countless protrusions.

These bulges—dense, rash-like lumps—bloomed across space like festering sores on the skin of the world. The very fabric of reality looked sick, as if infected with some incurable disease.

The rashes grew into pus-filled boils, swelling further until they finally burst open with wet explosions.

With each burst, pale green pus spewed outward—and gigantic, white, maggot-like worms, four to five meters long, fell from the ruptured sores. The boils continued to rupture across the sky, raining down these grotesque larva into the blood-soaked earth.

After landing, the fat larvae squirmed and crawled, merging into one another, clumping into larger masses, until an overwhelming entity began to take shape.

From the writhing, endless tide of maggots, a towering behemoth emerged between heaven and earth—a colossal vulture tens of kilometers tall, with a wingspan spanning dozens more. Its entire body was composed of fused maggots, entwined together. Pale white flesh was marked with dark green sigils, and when it spread its wings, the sky itself seemed blotted out.

This was one of the Three Gods of Chalice.

The Lord of Plague, the Immortal Master, Vulture of Pestilence—God of Rot and Disease…

While its two divine siblings had been intercepted in the inner realms by the God of Forge, it alone had successfully descended into the world.

“That… that’s… the Lord of Plague! It descended this quickly?!”

On Holy Mount, the seraphic Kramar looked southward toward the horizon, his expression full of horror. All the battling cardinals turned their gaze toward the Blood-Limb Temple. From this distance, they could already see that godlike form looming above the earth.

“It has come…”

As the cardinals tensed, and countless Holy Warriors stood frozen in terror, Unina opened her arms within the temple, calling out in ecstasy to the sky.

“O Venerated Scion of Rot… for our Great Mother’s sake…

Extinguish all Light from this world…

Shatter the false barriers completely!”

At her words, the Plague Vulture lightly flapped its massive wings. Then—a dark green fog began pouring out from them.

Far denser, more putrid, and more lethal than the plague mists of the previous insect monsters, the divine plague rained down in torrents from the heavens, then exploded outward in all directions.

The green fog stretched from sky to earth, forming wall-like clouds larger than any sandstorm. The divine plague swept forth from the Blood-Limb Temple at the heart of South Ufiga, rapidly engulfing all three fronts. Wherever it passed, no matter how powerful the gear worn by the Holy Army, fungus instantly erupted across their armor. When the armor cracked, the plague invaded the body, and the infected collapsed in agony—then lost consciousness.

Faster than the wind, the divine plague consumed all ground forces and most aerial fleets. Only cathedral-class Saint Steel Vessels and a few elite vessels that escaped to orbital altitude survived—for now.

But the divine plague was not finished.

After flooding South Ufiga, it continued spreading, infecting every region on the planet.

“Is this… the plague of a god?”

In orbit, Alberto watched the planet below—green mist spreading rapidly across the continent, leaping past South Ufiga to consume Busalet, Addus, Kankdal, and the nations of North Ufiga. Then it surged onward—crossing the Conquest Sea, reaching the main continent.

Ivengard… Cassatia… Falano… even Pritt… Nations fell in rapid succession, each swallowed by the divine plague. All life collapsed in sickness, unconscious, and the shining summit of Holy Mount dimmed—its light swallowed by the pestilence.

And the people who collapsed from the plague? Soon stood back up, their eyes glowing green, their expressions dazed. They were no longer themselves, but had been overtaken by the virus inside.

Far to the west, deep within the Starfall Continent, in the sacred, ancient shamanistic homeland—the Ancestral Valley—countless shamans gathered around a massive totem pole. Following the rhythm of the True Spirit Shaman atop the pillar, they chanted and invoked ancient rites, calling upon spirits to reshape the world.

When the divine plague—shaped like a towering, ghostly green wall forged from the life-devouring pestilence that had swallowed countless tribes—swept in from the southeast, the shamans fell into panic. Even the most powerful spiritual barriers were utterly useless against the divine plague’s corruption. In mere moments, the entire Ancestral Valley was engulfed. Even the spirits of the dead could not escape the grip of disease.

Eventually, the entire planet was blanketed in divine plague. The atmosphere teemed with lethal pathogens. In a single instant, the planet was swallowed in green mist. The Plague Vulture, with nothing more than its appearance, had infected billions of inhabitants, transforming the world into a Plague Star, turning every living thing into its puppet.

Where once the Radiance Church had the upper hand, the arrival of an unstoppable divine pestilence now reversed the tide of war.

“Praise be to the Lord of Plague…”

Amid the swirling green haze, Wolfthroat Gaytt had fully recovered from the devastating injuries he’d suffered earlier. Now, his body swelled larger than ever, webbed with fungal threads, and beneath his black skin, parasites visibly squirmed, crawling under the surface.

For their enemies, the divine plague was a catastrophe. But for the Mother of Chalice cult, it was a blessing. Bathed in its “divine favor,” the once-doomed Gaytt now wielded immense strength. Every being loyal to the cult had been empowered.

Opposite him, his opponent lay collapsed and barely breathing. Even with the blessings of Gold-rank healing, they could not withstand the divine plague’s corruption.

“Now… it’s over!”

Gaytt stepped toward the small body lying at his feet. Drool of greed dripped from his fanged maw.

This scene repeated itself across the battlefields.

In the northern jungle, the massive mutated insect that had been nearly torn apart was now swelling violently, empowered by the green miasma. Its deformed body erupted with new growths, sprouting sharp spikes that pierced the once-impregnable hull of the Saint Steel Vessel.

Inside the vessel, Amanda, under heavy attack from the divine plague, could only kneel in weakness, using all her strength to protect a few vital units. But her strength would not hold much longer.

Another toxic spike pierced her body. Her vision blurred—the color drained from her eyes…

On the western sea, beneath the oppressive fog, the once-mighty, armor-clad fire dragon, with its blazing sword, saw its flames significantly weakened. Meanwhile, the colossal water serpent, previously suppressed, began to grow anew. Its waters turned murky green, crawling with countless pathogens and parasites. As it bit into the dragon’s flames, the blaze dwindled.

The descent of the Plague Vulture—in a single moment—overturned the fate of the entire material world. Sensing the shift, Unina, within the Blood-Limb Temple, offered fervent praise to the god of disease.

“Praise to You… songs for You… O Lord of Plague…

Your arrival has drowned out the Light, delivering all realms into the hands of the Mother.

Radiance is extinguished. Crisis is over. Let us now continue to pave the path for our Mother’s descent…”

She could feel the light of Radiance’s hostility fading one by one. Not only had the Holy Army been annihilated, the entire population of the world had become the plague god’s thralls. The core of Radiance’s faith was utterly shattered. Its worldly power and foundation had collapsed entirely.

Unina was still offering worship to her god—when she was suddenly met with an unexpected response.

“No… this is far from over…”

The Vulture’s voice sounded like millions of insect mouths screeching at once, sharp and hoarse, reverberating through heaven and earth. Unina, stunned, asked.

“What… what do you mean it’s far from over? Haven’t all living things in this world already been—”

Before she could finish, the world changed once more.

Across Ufiga’s warzones, across cities of the main continent, those who had become plague zombies and puppets began to blur and fade, transforming into pale purple illusions.

Whether Holy Warriors, ordinary civilians, or even animals—every living thing infected by the divine plague suddenly disappeared, leaving behind only a faint shimmer of violet light. In a heartbeat, the world fell into complete silence. The only life remaining was the microbial organisms active within the mist.

“Gone… They’ve all vanished… How?!”

Feeling her infected puppets vanish, Unina was struck with shock. Meanwhile, the Vulture was calm. It looked far off into the horizon, beyond the haze of its own plague.

“You’re the one responsible… aren’t you… Young Arbiter…

“How surprising… That your power has grown to such heights… Enough to create a miracle like this…”

At the far end of the plague horizon—hovering in the air above the green clouds, on the main continent—Dorothy sat calmly in the sky, smiling at the god of plague from thousands of kilometers away.

“Thank you for the compliment… You’re more polite than your brothers. It’s a pleasure to cross blades with you here, Lord of Plague.”

Responding gently, Dorothy then looked down at the thick clouds of disease and sighed.

“I had run countless simulations. There was no way to stop all three of you from descending and still destroy the Mother of Chalice cult…

“So… some preparations had to be made… for divine war in the material world. Compared to divinity, ordinary life is too fragile. They needed… a little protection.”

She spoke in a soft whisper.

At the beginning of the war, Dorothy had already enacted her divine power, using her Bewitching Dreams Path to create something like Hafdar’s story worlds. But while Hafdar’s stories could only encompass a city, Dorothy’s was on a planetary scale.

Yes—Dorothy copied the entire main world, creating a vast semi-inner realm story world, within which she placed a full planet of anecdotal life. Most beings in that world were exact replicas of real ones—except in mystical attributes.

Quietly, she then swapped the contents of the real world with the story one: all mortals, even spirits, and many Beyonders, were hidden in the story world—and their anecdotal doubles replaced them in the physical realm.

Thus, while the world continued turning, ordinary beings were unknowingly protected in the story space, living their lives. To fool the cult, Dorothy even scripted the anecdotal versions to act convincingly around their infiltrators.

Because they weren’t in the material realm, the divine plague never touched them—and the foundation of Radiance’s faith was preserved.

So long as that foundation stood, Dorothy’s side still had strength to fight.

“Now then… return to battle, warriors of the Holy War… This war… isn’t over yet…”

Facing the sea of green below, Dorothy spoke gently.

On the battlefields of South Ufiga, strange phenomena began again.

Across the grasslands, the jungles, the seas—within the corroded armor, the abandoned tanks, the silent mechs, the sunken ships—purple light flickered. And one by one, translucent bodies materialized, reanimating armor, reactivating machines, relaunching vessels…

Those infected Holy Warriors—just like the rest of the world’s displaced souls—were anecdotal bodies Dorothy had brought forth. But the Holy Warriors were special: their story selves were linked to their true selves in the story world.

Through this connection, the anecdotal forms received control from the original, retained their spiritual power, their consciousness, their skills.

The plague had destroyed their copies—but the originals remained untouched. Now, Dorothy summoned them back into the real world in a post-physical form—revived, transcendent, and ready to rejoin the Great Holy War.

As long as Dorothy stood, the Holy Warriors were immortal.

This also applied to the Gold-rank Cardinals.

But even so, more would be needed to turn the tide…

“Which is why… it’s time the faithful of Radiance felt the blessings of their Light…”

As she spoke, a divine glow shimmered before her, and the Staff of Radiant Decree appeared. Dorothy grasped it tightly.

The radiant divine light, following her will, spread down to the plague-covered world.

On the plains below, three-headed Gaytt licked his fangs, basking in victory—until he suddenly froze, sensing something.

He stared downward—only to see a brilliant light blooming from his belly.

With a shriek of pain, his abdomen exploded.

From the torn flesh, a golden beam shot forth, stopping in the green-misted sky.

As the light faded, Artcheli’s full form appeared once more, her gaze cold and sharp. Behind her, a pair of radiant wings made of pure light unfurled.