Western Addus, Karnak. In the central district of Karnak, the battle between the Revolutionary Army and the Savior’s Advent forces had reached its final stages. The last remnants of the Savior’s Advent troops were being driven back into the city center. Under the overwhelming advantage of the Revolutionary Army, the total collapse of the Savior’s Advent forces was imminent. But just as the Revolutionary Army soldiers were about to launch their final assault, something completely unexpected occurred. During the fighting, a howling, violent wind drowned out the sounds of gunfire and shouting. Upon hearing this deafening roar, every soldier momentarily stopped what they were doing and turned to look toward the north, from where this strange wind originated. What they saw stunned them: a storm of swirling sand had transformed into a colossal, dark yellow wall of wind and dust, stretching from earth to sky and rolling toward Karnak. A terrifying human face appeared on the surface of the sand wall, exuding an overwhelming pressure upon everyone present. Faced with such a terrifying spectacle, both the Revolutionary Army and the Savior’s Advent soldiers alike stopped fighting. Dumbfounded, they gazed at the approaching behemoth of force, panicking, unsure of what to do. Meanwhile, on the northern outskirts of Karnak, standing on the front line against the approaching storm, Addus Revolutionary Army leader Shadi raised his head, staring at the monstrous face drawing near. The raging wind whipped his garments, and even his nearby aides had to shield their eyes. Facing this violent undead disaster, Shadi muttered inwardly. “I’m counting on you, Setut!” “Heh… So we meet again in familiar fashion, eh…” After briefly communicating with Setut, Shadi reached his hand forward. His eyes turned icy blue, and a faint glow formed around his pupils. The temperature around him began to plummet. Having once again fully bonded with Setut, he activated a power beyond White Ash-rank. “Freezing Frost…” Murmuring these words, Shadi unleashed a massive surge of his ability. Under the invisible influence of spirituality, not only Karnak but even surrounding areas began to rapidly cool. Soldiers within the city suddenly felt the sweltering heat vanish, and within moments, their breaths turned to white mist. Under Shadi and Setut’s influence, Karnak’s temperature quickly plunged by over ten degrees. Drawing on his knowledge, Setut used the extreme cold to create a localized high-pressure zone around Karnak, forming an atmospheric barrier to block the dust storm from advancing further south. The strategy worked almost immediately: the massive rotating sandstorm slowed down, and its forward momentum stalled. “It’s working! Lowering the temperature is really effective against it! But what’s the principle behind this?” Shadi exclaimed inwardly, excited. Setut promptly replied. “Simply lowering the temperature wouldn’t be enough... There are lots of technical details involved. I don’t have time to explain them all now. If you’re serious about learning, I’ll teach you later. For now, the priority is dealing with that thing.” As he spoke, Setut began subtly adjusting the temperature to fine-tune the local pressure, further weakening the massive whirlwind and guiding it to veer off course—diverting it away from Karnak. On the other side, the soul of Diedin, the force behind the dust storm, seemed to sense this obstruction. After several failed attempts to break through—and even feeling it might be diverted—Diedin became enraged and began to act. Upon the sandstorm’s halted southern edge, the enormous face of Diedin Baruch opened its mouth wide. A voice—grainy, distant, yet stretching across the land—emerged from the winds, formed from environmental manipulation. “I am King Diedin… I am King of Addus… Subjects… I have returned from death… I shall punish the traitors…” The sandstorm, now speaking, stunned every soldier to their core. They finally understood what kind of entity this monstrous storm truly was. The last tyrant of the Baruch Dynasty, their former king. “King Diedin… You’re joking… That’s King Diedin?!” “No way! Wasn’t he already dead? How can he still be here?!” “Undead… That’s King Diedin’s ghost! He’s come back to avenge himself!” … As the undead storm approached, panic spread through the soldiers in Karnak. They now understood who the sandstorm’s face belonged to and what was behind it. It was their former king, the tyrant they were supposed to have overthrown. The tyrant who had died had now returned as a sandstorm, vowing revenge. This vision sent a deep shock into the hearts of all within Karnak, both the Revolutionary Army and the Savior’s Advent Sect alike. In Diedin’s eyes, all were traitors to be slain. Overwhelmed by his terrifying presence, many soldiers began to abandon their weapons and flee. Worse, fear caused a renewed belief to take hold in their hearts: Diedin was still the true King of Addus. Not only that—the voice Diedin used, echoing through the environment, traveled far beyond Karnak. In distant Dorsa and surrounding towns, his words resounded out of nowhere. Citizens going about their daily lives froze in fear upon hearing the disembodied declaration, then erupted into shocked conversations across every corner of the city. What was that voice? Was it really King Diedin? Hadn’t he died? How could he now speak in such a miraculous way? Had the Revolutionary Army lied to them? Was King Diedin marching back with an army? Rumors and speculation flooded the streets of Dorsa. Tens of thousands discussed what the voice meant. But no matter the conclusion, a single idea emerged in the minds of the people: King Diedin had returned. Some even subconsciously began to believe again that Diedin was the rightful ruler of Addus. After that widespread transmission, the belief that Diedin still lived—and was still the King of Addus—took root in the hearts of countless soldiers and civilians. To them, King Diedin had been resurrected. And in that moment, the sandstorm that embodied him grew immensely stronger. Visibly so—its swirling wind accelerated, and the storm’s circumference visibly expanded. It grew even larger, even more violent. In an instant, the entire city of Karnak was engulfed in dust and sand, swept by roaring gales. Countless soldiers fled in terror through the frigid winds, panic overtaking their hearts. Some began to pray and plead for forgiveness before the storm, as if it were a god—unwittingly empowering it even more. “W-What’s going on, Setut?! Why did it suddenly get so much stronger? It’s coming at us again—I don’t think I can hold it back much longer!” On Karnak’s northern outskirts, Shadi shouted inwardly as he witnessed the sandstorm grow more ferocious. Setut, expression grave, answered seriously. “Its strengthening… is linked to that royal declaration just now. The speech reached far—it influenced not just soldiers in the city, but even ordinary citizens in distant towns. Their perception shifted because of those words. That perception strengthened him. This kind of special spirit seems to be deeply tied to the people’s belief in his kingship.” “Huh—He got stronger because of people’s perception? How is that even possible?!” “It should be accomplished through some kind of extremely intricate and profound soul modification surgery. This modification stitches the soul of the last king to the national concept of Addus, allowing the perception of the citizens to strengthen him. But from the looks of it, the process is still far from complete. “Ah… what a fascinating technique. A deep rewriting of the soul itself, reconstructing it to extend its dominion over other conceptual entities—this clearly falls under the domain of Silence. And transforming ordinary people’s factual recognition into power… that’s within the realm of Lantern. To stitch a soul to the concept of a nation… that’s not merely Lantern—it even touches upon Revelation... I’d love to meet the one who designed this procedure.” Setut spoke with such fascination in Shadi’s mind that the tense Shadi couldn’t help but snap. “Enough marveling at obscure research! What do we actually do to stop this thing?!” “Given the current situation? We can’t. This creature is supported by the soldiers of Addus in this region… maybe even by seven centuries of legal authority from the Baruch Dynasty. There’s no way we can win as we are. I suggest you prepare to flee. Escaping might still be possible.” Setut replied bluntly. Hearing this, Shadi became even more agitated. “Flee? You want me to abandon tens of thousands of my soldiers and run off alone?” “What else? Live to fight another day, kid. It’s still far away—leave while you can!” Shadi fell silent for a moment. Then he spoke slowly. “No… if I leave, I’ll do it only after arranging an organized retreat. We need to evacuate as many as possible—if we flee in chaos, many lives will be needlessly lost. Setut, can you help me hold out just a little longer?” After a brief pause, Setut sighed. “Fine… it’s not like I’ll be the one dying anyway. Do as you please.” “Thank you, Setut.” Saying this, Shadi continued to stare at the approaching wall of sand and wind. He began shouting to a nearby aide, who had been driven to cover by the storm, to come and relay his orders. … Elsewhere, slightly earlier — within the Rachman Royal Mausoleum in Dead Eagle Valley. Inside the sepulcher of the underground mausoleum, Nephthys sat in a cramped chamber constructed from Netherfrost Stone. She was seated at the center of a soul array formed of bone powder, eyes closed in meditation. In front of her were three bone fragments of various shapes. Dorothy, her face veiled, watched from nearby along with a few corpse marionettes. Floating beside her was the translucent spirit of an old man—Shaman Uta of the Tupa Tribe. After a moment of quiet meditation within the array, Nephthys slowly opened her eyes. A brief daze appeared in them before a pale, translucent lynx-shaped spirit emerged from her body and hovered in midair, stretching out gracefully. It was none other than the wild spirit, Soulwhisker. Upon seeing Soulwhisker, Nephthys’s daze vanished, and she smiled. “Thank you, Lord Soulwhisker. The ritual was a success!” Soulwhisker floated before her and licked its lips. Nephthys, recognizing what it wanted, promptly pulled three iron coins from her clothes and laid them before the spirit, who happily began to lick them. Nephthys then turned to Dorothy and Uta, still smiling. “The ritual was a success. I’ve officially advanced—I am now a Soulbound.” To prepare for the more crucial ritual ahead, Dorothy and Uta had agreed to let Nephthys, their only viable candidate, undergo a rank advancement on site—becoming a White Ash rank Soul Contractor under the Body Possession Path, to increase fault tolerance. This advancement required three bone fragments imbued with at least Black-rank souls, a spirit of at least White Ash-rank that could be suppressed within one’s body, and a spiritually silent environment for the ritual. Nephthys now fulfilled all those requirements. The Rachman Royal Mausoleum’s sepulcher, made entirely from Netherfrost Stone and buried in the mausoleum’s depths, was a naturally suitable spirit habitat. The accompanying spirit—Soulwhisker—was a well-acquainted partner of White Ash-rank strength. As for the three Black-tier soul bone fragments, they were generously “donated” by former tomb raiders and kidnappers who had attacked the Boyle estate—Atif and his men. At last, with everything in place, Nephthys had completed her advancement. Her body could now utilize more of the soul’s powers she depended on, and even perform light modifications to her body according to the spirit’s traits. She could now also perform soul separation and use her soul to possess and control others. “Good… then now everything’s ready. Let’s begin, Shaman Uta.” Dorothy nodded, and one of her corpse marionettes relayed her words to Uta. The shaman’s spirit nodded and floated upward. “Prepare to accept my presence, girl recognized by Soulwhisker.” With that, Uta drifted toward Nephthys and merged into her body. When she reopened her eyes, a deep and distant weight shimmered within them. Meanwhile, Dorothy had already begun commanding her marionettes to erase the soul control array around the stone sarcophagus, following the procedure Sadroya had provided. Once the array was dismantled, all the corpse marionettes gathered at one side of the massive coffin. Placing their hands on the lid, they pushed it open. With a loud rumble, the heavy lid crashed to the ground. From inside, a thick wave of gray-black spiritual mist burst forth, flooding the tomb in an instant. A chilling air crept up the spines of every living person present. Within the fog of spirits, a hazy black silhouette emerged, full of resentment. A warped, grotesque voice echoed from the shadow. “You’ve come again to prolong your pitiful existences with my cursed remnants? Oh, my rotten heirs…”