Southern Main Continent, Bainlair. Late at night, on the outskirts of Bainlair’s capital, Whitelinburg, a fierce battle involving powerful Golden-tier Beyonders was still raging, and the entire situation on the battlefield was shifting rapidly. Under the coordinated assault of Church Cardinal Artcheli and the White Craftsmen’s Guild’s Gold-rank Beyonder, Yellowstone Dorn, even the Dark Coin Noble—who wielded a portion of the Dark Gold divinity—was gradually being pushed to a disadvantage. When the Dark Coin Noble, desperate to turn the tide, recklessly activated his secret final trump card, an unforeseen development occurred. Controlling countless intricate and luxurious "product weapons," Dorn once again shattered the ice barrier summoned by the Dark Coin Noble's acquisition ability, creating an opening for Artcheli’s attack. Without hesitation, Artcheli seized the opportunity and launched a high-speed assault with her Shadow Dagger, aiming to slice the Dark Coin Noble into countless fragments once again. Just then, aided by powerful mystical perception from his stored boxes, the Dark Coin Noble fixed his gaze on the rapidly approaching Artcheli. At the same time, a strange power surged forth—Artcheli’s expression abruptly turned pale, and she vomited a mouthful of blood... Something had gone wrong with her body. Mid-charge, Artcheli faltered, nearly stumbling. After steadying herself and clutching her chest, she looked down at her palm—veins bulging, covered in rashes. “A mystical disease… When? When did I get exposed to a pathogen?!” Artcheli thought in shock. At that moment, another change occurred—her body suddenly flashed with a strange light. Then, sturdy iron chains appeared out of nowhere, tightly binding her body. The chains were linked by countless locks, clamping onto her all over. Each lock was etched with elaborate runes—it was clearly no ordinary equipment. “What…?” With no warning, no visible move from the enemy, and no time to dodge, Artcheli was restrained by this bizarre set of chains. Afflicted by disease, she felt her abilities temporarily suppressed. At that moment, the Dark Coin Noble unleashed another mystic casket, from which a dazzling laser beam shot straight toward Artcheli. She had no means of resistance—her eyes widened in horror. But just then, a resplendent and heavy shield descended from above, shielding Artcheli and blocking the intense beam. Saved, Artcheli endured a moment of powerlessness before reactivating her abilities, turning into a shadow that slipped into the ground, causing the chains to fall away slack. Meanwhile, Dorn, having rescued Artcheli, immediately directed more luxurious product weapons to continue attacking the Dark Coin Noble. However, with just one glare, the Dark Coin Noble caused the attacking weapons to instantly corrode into a gray-black hue. Their radiant glow dimmed and vanished. That eerie gray-black rust quickly spread across the weapons, which then disintegrated into fine ash. Shocked, Dorn noticed the same rust beginning to spread from his right hand, rapidly crawling across his body—it was rust, flaking off in patches. “Blackbite Rust Plague…” Recognizing it at once, Dorn opened his mouth and expelled a surge of golden, high-temperature flames. The fire engulfed his rusted arm, searing it. When the flames subsided, the affected limb had become molten and glowing, dripping viscous molten iron—no more rust in sight. Nearby, Artcheli’s shadow emerged once more and reformed her figure. The black-haired girl immediately took out a small syringe, uncapped it, and injected herself. The liquid inside glowed faint red. After the injection, her complexion rapidly improved, and the rashes began to fade. Thanks to the special medication meticulously prepared by Redemption Cardinal Amanda, Artcheli’s mystical disease began to heal swiftly. However, her solemn expression remained, her gaze still locked on the distant Dark Coin Noble. “What just happened? What was that?! That wasn’t anything like his previous abilities…” Artcheli asked warily. On the other side, Dorn also answered grimly. “This… is another application of the Dark Gold divinity—the inverse of forced acquisition: forced selling. He’s forcibly 'selling' diseases… poisons… cursed items directly to us! “This guy… he’s further assimilated the Dark Gold divinity! Be careful, he’s planning to go down with us!” Clearly aware of the Dark Coin Noble’s situation, Dorn quickly analyzed what was happening. Just then, the Dark Coin Noble smirked strangely and responded. “Go down with you? No, no… I believe it’s far from that point. After all, I’ve got more chips in hand than that foolish merchant ever did…” Seeing this reaction, Dorn was visibly stunned and asked in disbelief. “You… you’re not Franco? Who are you?!” “Me? Haven’t you all heard my name before? Oh, prodigies of the Fourth Epoch… your wisdom has truly fallen behind. The collapse of the Holy Dynasty… such a deeply damaging event for the world indeed… “But worry not. This state of things won’t last long…” The "Dark Coin Noble" spoke calmly. At those words, Artcheli suddenly made a connection with the intelligence she’d received from Dorothy and declared sharply. “You’re Hafdar? The Undead Monarch from the North Ufiga tombs, the Sage King of the First Dynasty!” “The revived Undead Monarch? You actually took over Franco? That’s impossible!” Dorn exclaimed in disbelief. He clearly couldn’t accept that the Dark Coin Noble had been duped like this. The “Dark Coin Noble,” however, merely patted his chest and smiled. “If those with great power aren’t guided correctly, they only disgrace the name of wisdom… “This merchant wasn’t entirely incompetent, but clearly, he didn’t know how to use his power properly…” Hafdar spoke with understatement—yet his words practically declared that it would’ve been a waste not to exploit someone like Dark Coin Noble. Though Hafdar openly mocked the Dark Coin Noble’s foolishness, in truth, the latter had been very cautious. He simply never anticipated that Hafdar’s methods would be this deep and deceptive. Clearly, the hypnotic ability Hafdar sold to Dark Coin Noble had issues. And the reason Dark Coin Noble never noticed was that he completely underestimated the depth of Hafdar’s profiling abilities. To sell his powers, Hafdar asked Dark Coin Noble to provide a loyal subordinate to serve as a test subject. Ostensibly, Hafdar would hypnotize the subordinate to “strengthen his self-will.” In reality, the hypnosis was something entirely different. What Hafdar had performed wasn’t ordinary profiling—it was “personality duplication.” He didn’t strengthen the subordinate’s will—he implanted a copy of his own consciousness into the subordinate’s mind, seizing control and turning him into another Hafdar. In other words, after the profiling session, Dark Coin Noble’s loyal subordinate was no longer himself, but a clone of Hafdar. This clone followed Hafdar’s exact plan, suppressing the original’s mind, reading his memories, and flawlessly impersonating him in every detail—speech, behavior, mannerisms—so even the Dark Coin Noble noticed nothing amiss. From then on, the clone Hafdar used the subordinate’s body to cooperate with all sorts of testing. No matter how thoroughly the Dark Coin Noble tried to verify the subject’s mental state, Hafdar always passed every test perfectly. Even if asked obscure or sensitive questions, the clone answered without a flaw. One crucial test involved isolating the subject in a sealed underground chamber that blocked all mystical interference. The Dark Coin Noble suspected that Hafdar might be remotely controlling a puppet via hypnosis, so he severed all possible links to expose the truth. The setup was meticulous. But what the Dark Coin Noble never expected was that his subordinate wasn’t being remotely controlled—he was Hafdar himself. There was no connection to sever. All the clone’s actions were autonomous. Satisfied, the cautious Dark Coin Noble finally decided to “acquire” the ability—he used his power to buy the mystical effect off the subordinate. Thus, the clone’s personality and the hypnotic effect were both stored in his mystical box, while the subordinate’s original will, pre-conditioned by Hafdar’s hypnotic preset, returned unaware that anything had changed. So, in the end, the Dark Coin Noble believed he had acquired a “self-enhancement hypnosis” ability. But in truth, he had stored Hafdar’s own will. When he later, in desperation, used the ability on himself and voluntarily lowered his mental defenses—he was instantly possessed by Hafdar’s duplicate will and… became Hafdar. Thus… Hafdar’s main plan was complete. … Within the story world, on a different battlefield. At the towering and majestic Giant’s Tomb, four colossal undead giant soldiers were swinging their massive, broken greatswords, shattering the Earth Dragons that surged from rifts in space. By virtue of their enormous size, the undead giants were initially highly effective at clearing the battlefield. However, as the spatial tremors within the story world intensified, more and more rifts tore open, releasing an endless wave of Earth Dragon heads. Gradually, the giant soldiers began to falter. Eventually, several Earth Dragons broke through the defense of the fractured greatswords and viciously bit into the undead giants. The giants struggled desperately, but under the influence of some strange power, their corpses rapidly disintegrated into dust, scattering into fine sand and forming small dunes on the ground. Dust to dust, earth to earth... With the undead giants' line of defense broken, the roaring Earth Dragon heads surged toward Hafdar's location. Yet at this moment, there wasn’t the slightest trace of worry on Hafdar’s face—only a calm, faint smile. To him, the primary goal had already been accomplished. “Withdraw…” Hafdar whispered softly. Dorothy, observing from afar, suddenly noticed a strange yet familiar power emerging from Hafdar’s body. She saw a thin red thread—previously indistinct—now clearly linked to him. “He’s escaping! Through some kind of spatial travel!” Realizing what was happening, Dorothy shouted. Just as her voice echoed out, a violent tremor rocked the real-world battlefield outside the story space—in the war-ravaged outskirts of Whitelinburg. From beneath the earth, several massive stone steles inscribed with ancient runes burst through the ground, surrounding the entire battlefield in a perfect circle. “Realm-Sealing Steles…” These monumental stones, born of mystical powers, had emerged into reality. At the same time, the strange red thread attached to Hafdar flickered faintly. His body began to blur—then solidify again. A hint of displeasure surfaced on his face. But quickly, the red thread shimmered once more. Hafdar’s figure blurred again and this time vanished completely, replaced by a vacant-eyed, expressionless man who was promptly crushed beneath the incoming wave of Earth Dragons. Immediately after, the entire story world began to collapse. As everything crumbled around her, Dorothy’s expression turned grim. Her brows furrowed as she murmured. “He… got involved in the end after all…” … In the real world, above a remote hill on the devastated battlefield outside Whitelinburg, a solitary figure floated in the air. It was a tall man in a black cloak, with long, slightly messy black hair. Beneath the hair was a narrow, gloomy face of a man in his thirties. His cold gaze was fixed on the distant, towering stone steles. Behind him floated several vacant-eyed figures. Suddenly, one of the floating individuals behind him began to blur. After a brief distortion, they completely transformed—revealing none other than Hafdar, who had just vanished from the story world. Now reappeared, Hafdar immediately began scanning the surroundings. As he took in the unfamiliar terrain, his brows knit together. “What’s going on, Taharka? Isn’t this supposed to be a safe zone? Why are we still in Whitelinburg?” “The spatial stability’s been reinforced,” the gloomy man called Taharka replied. “That earth-shaping artisan did it. All long-range spatial movement is now heavily suppressed. I couldn’t link to a more distant puppet as a transfer node. I had no choice but to pull you to the nearest one…” At those words, Hafdar’s face twisted with contempt. “Knew I couldn’t count on you at a time like this…” “Hmph… And whose fault do you think this mess is?” Taharka coldly snapped. “You failed to retrieve the stolen divinity. That allowed the artisan’s power to interfere. If I were you, I’d flay my own face before talking.” Grinding his teeth, Hafdar growled back. “This isn’t the time for your crap! The main objective is done. There’s no point clashing with them any longer—we need to return to the divine throne domain immediately. We’ll recover the stolen divinity another time! “Now—summon the Divine Envoy’s power! Only that can break this blockade!” Reluctantly abandoning the argument, Hafdar spoke with firm urgency. Taharka, after a moment’s pause, waved his hand. In response, another of the vacant figures behind him blurred and reformed—this time into a completely different person. It was a woman—dressed in white robes adorned with gold, with purple jewels ornamenting her body. Her attire was deeply marked by the First Dynasty’s priestly style. Her skin was dark. Spikes were pierced through her ears, and a black cloth blindfolded her eyes. An abstract vertical eye symbol was drawn over the cloth. Her exposed skin was covered with dense runic texts. She stood silent and still, like a statue. Once she appeared, Hafdar immediately pulled a golden scepter from his storage and tossed it to her. Reflexively, the blindfolded priestess extended her hand and caught it. “Now—open the Path of Pilgrimage!” Following Hafdar’s command, the woman knelt mid-air, bowed her head, and planted the scepter into the air before her. The moment it struck the invisible surface, a glowing magical array formed at the tip and rapidly expanded. A closer look revealed—it was a Revelation array. As the array grew, the priestess opened her mouth and began to chant ancient incantations in a hoarse voice. With every syllable, the glow beneath her intensified. Boom! At that moment, the ground below them violently cracked open, and dozens of massive Earth Dragon heads surged upward toward the sky, aiming directly at the spell circle. Hafdar and Taharka immediately took action. Hafdar summoned a horde of large, anomalous creatures to fight off the Earth Dragons. Taharka caused two more of his puppets to blur and transform. One became the Dark Coin Noble; the other, a bald, pale man—none other than Deer Skull. Now fully under Hafdar’s control, the “Dark Coin Noble” and Deer Skull joined the battlefield. The former released a flood of ability boxes, unleashing a torrent of powers at the oncoming Earth Dragons, while Deer Skull summoned a massive chain of bone spikes to lash out like a whip. Together, Hafdar, the Dark Coin Noble, and Deer Skull held back the overwhelming onslaught—just long enough for the priestess’s incantation to conclude. “By the dreadful voice of the heavens, let guidance descend—open the grand path leading to the Throne of Fate…” Just as her archaic voice fell, a bolt of violet lightning split the night sky, striking directly upon the center of the array. In that instant, both the array and the surrounding space ruptured, revealing a radiant, swirling rift to an unknown destination. Through the power of the golden scepter and the inherited bloodline of the ancient Divine Anointed Sage, Hafdar had successfully invoked a fragment of godling power—creating a path of escape within the spatial blockade. “Go!” Seeing the rift open, Hafdar shouted decisively. He and the priestess entered first. Taharka, the Dark Coin Noble, and Deer Skull followed right behind after throwing out some delay abilities. As the last of them disappeared, the spatial rift began to close. Yet just before it could fully seal, a simple, rugged stone spear descended from the sky and embedded itself in the narrowing gap—firmly wedging it open. And so, the great battle quieted at last, and the vast battlefield once again sank into the silent stillness of night. … “Uwaaah… finally out of there…” In the shattered ruins outside Whitelinburg, Nephthys stretched dramatically and let out a massive yawn under the night sky of the real world. “That hellhole… seriously, not a place I’d want to stay a second longer… Thank goodness Miss Dorothy caught onto the problem early, or we’d have been screwed in there…” While stretching, Nephthys muttered to herself. Earlier, she, Vania, Rudolf, and others had been pulled into Hafdar’s story world. After Dorothy exposed Hafdar’s scheme, the seemingly normal world they were in had abruptly transformed—spawning countless monsters that tried to kill them. Thanks to Dorothy’s instructions, Nephthys and the others quickly grasped the situation and organized a counterattack. Because Hafdar, once exposed, had to face overwhelming pressure from the White Craftsmen’s Guild and dedicate most of his spirituality and focus to the direct battle, he had little left to deal with Nephthys and her group. That allowed them to hold out until the collapse of the story world and escape. “Miss Dorothea, what’s the current situation? Where are those cultists of the evil god now?” On the other side, Vania—having just exited the story world—glanced around before asking Dorothy. At that moment, Dorothy was standing with her hands behind her back, gazing at the massive stone spear impaled mid-air. “Unfortunately… they got away. Once Hafdar retrieved the golden scepter, he clearly gained greater access to draw upon the power of the evil god into the real world… They used that power to escape,” Dorothy said gravely. After hearing this, Rudolf, who had also just been freed from the story world, spoke up. “They escaped? That’s a shame… But at least we ruined their conspiracy against Bainlair. That alone is a major victory. “And the key to all of this was our esteemed Divine Child seeing through their meticulously crafted plot… A dual-world, interwoven plan… When I think about it now, it really is astonishing…” As Rudolf sighed in reflection, another calm voice followed his remarks. “To the Dark Coin Noble, yes, the plot against Bainlair was significant—and thwarting it is indeed fortunate. But to that ancient Sage King from seven thousand years ago… his true target was never this nation. It was the Dark Coin Noble himself. And in that sense, he achieved exactly what he wanted.” Everyone turned toward the voice—Artcheli was approaching, expression grave, Dorn following and nodding in agreement. “The Cardinal is right,” Dorn added. “While this round wasn’t exactly a loss for us, we didn’t win much either. The Dark Coin Noble suffered total defeat… but that ancient Sage King? He won big. And that’s no good news for us.” Dorothy gave a slight nod of approval. Judging from everything so far, Hafdar had never planned to deal fairly with the Dark Coin Noble. From the beginning, he’d likely aimed to fully control him and claim the Dark Gold divinity he held. Though Hafdar had also clearly set his sights on Dorothy’s divinity, when that proved unreachable, he opted for a fallback—sacrificing the Dark Coin Noble instead, taking down at least one target, and setting aside the greater one for later. “Now the real question is… what does Hafdar—or rather, that young god—want with the Dark Gold divinity? Wanting Dorothy’s divinity is understandable… but Dark Gold? What does it gain them? “Also… the power that rescued Hafdar during his battle with Golden Triad clearly came from spiritual threads. Someone used spiritual thread-linking to swap Hafdar with another tethered puppet, allowing him to slip away like a cicada shedding its shell… “Another system of spiritual threads besides mine… and even a puppet-switching technique I can’t pull off. That clearly means Taharka’s involved now! Another Undead Monarch from the First Dynasty—Taharka has also submitted to the young god and received a new body just like Hafdar… He’s reclaimed his place at the peak of the Spiritual Thread Path. No idea what kind of secret technique the young god used to achieve that… “Taharka is not the same kind of madman as Hafdar. His will should be clearer—he ought to be able to perceive that young god’s true nature. And even then, he still chose submission… “No matter how you look at it, Taharka is now on Hafdar’s side. Who knows what he’s really thinking? But this at least proves what Viagetta said… Hafdar is the hardest to deal with of the four pharaohs—and Taharka comes second…” Dorothy reflected with solemn focus, then looked up again at the long stone spear still embedded in the sky and spoke, “Do you have any findings, Mr. Whitestone?” As if in response, a gust of dust rose from the ground despite the still air. It floated into the sky and condensed into a male face—like a solemn sculpture. A deep, calm voice followed. “I’ve temporarily wedged open the rift to the inner realm. Though the passage is trying to close on its own, I’m doing what I can to prevent full reformation. “I can sense… this passage leads to an extremely deep region of the inner realm, one beyond even my understanding. The endpoint may be where Franco was taken—or it could be someplace even more dangerous.” “A maintained passage? Then that means we might still be able to use it to locate Hafdar and the others?” Dorothy asked thoughtfully. Whitestone nodded. “Correct. If you wish to pursue them, I and Yellowstone can try to widen and stabilize this passage—open the path for you. But if you’re going to do it, you must act quickly. Soon, the inner realm’s constant motion will distort this rift and shift its destination.” He continued, and Dorothy’s brows furrowed slightly. “How soon is ‘quickly’?” “Forty minutes. After that, I can no longer guarantee the accuracy of the destination,” Whitestone replied. Dorothy let out a troubled sigh. “Forty minutes… really cutting it close…” As she contemplated, she closed her eyes and began using an information channel to contact distant parties. She needed intel—fast. Moments later, Dorothy opened her eyes again and turned toward Nephthys, who was still staring wide-eyed at the broken product weapons scattered on the ground. “Senior Nephthys, come here for a moment.” “Huh? Oh… okay…” Nephthys responded and began walking toward her, though her gaze lingered longingly on the scattered fragments, prompting Dorothy to shake her head. Before long, the task Dorothy assigned to Nephthys was complete. Now, on a flat patch of ground nearby, a sizeable Silence ritual array had been drawn, and Nephthys sat beside it, solemnly presiding over the rite. As the ceremony began, the Silence array emitted a soft, faint glow. From its center emerged the translucent form of a spirit clad in a luxurious robe adorned with countless jewels. “Necromantic summoning? But the officiant isn’t a Soul Channeler… and the summoned soul isn’t even from Starfall Continent…” Whitestone observed curiously. Dorothy, however, calmly explained. “I have a bit of a connection with the True Spirit Shaman over on Starfall’s side. With his help, as long as a ritual array exists to receive the spirit, it can be summoned here from anywhere in the world.” Hearing this, Whitestone silently nodded. “A chieftain among shamans, huh? No wonder… Your connections run deeper than I thought.” As Whitestone muttered in awe, the spirit finished emerging from the array—it was none other than another Sage King of the First Dynasty, and still an Undead Monarch to this day: Setut. His soul had been summoned all the way from North Ufiga, brought forth with the remote assistance of the True Spirit Shaman. Soaring out from the array, Setut examined the surroundings and cast a scrutinizing glance across everyone present—Artcheli, Yellowstone, and the others—before his gaze finally settled on Dorothy. After quietly observing her for a moment, seemingly confirming something, Setut finally spoke in a raspy voice. “I had planned to check on Taharka’s tomb to assess his condition, but I’d barely taken seven steps before I received your message. Never thought a man like Taharka would bow to that fledgling… I wonder what it promised him.” Dorothy had already exchanged a brief round of information with Setut through her information channel earlier, giving him a summary of the situation. “Time is short. No time for small talk. I need your counsel, Setut.” Dorothy said earnestly, eyes fixed on the pharaoh’s spirit. Upon hearing her, Setut looked up at the large stone spear impaled in the sky above. He floated toward the gap torn open by the spear. After a brief inspection, he turned back with a solemn expression. “I can sense the aura beyond this fissure… I can more or less guess where it leads—to the Forbidden Domain of Audience.” “The Forbidden Domain of Audience?” “Yes… To put it simply, it’s the region beyond the boundary designated for divine audiences in the Holy Dynasty era. During rites of pilgrimage into the inner realm to worship the Divine Mentor, the most devout and powerful pilgrims would pass through specific routes to approach the Divine Mentor’s private domain within the inner realm. “In that process, they would try to draw as close to the Divine Mentor as possible. But upon reaching a predesignated red line, they’d be barred from going further. Beyond that red line lies the so-called Forbidden Domain of Audience—which is, in fact, the Divine Mentor’s divine kingdom within the inner realm, their personal domain.” Setut’s tone was serious. At his words, many powerful Beyonders present changed expressions, each lost in thought. Dorothy asked with intrigue. “A divine kingdom left behind by Heaven’s Arbiter? So that ‘Throne of Revelation,’ the Throne of Fate, lies within there?” “In theory, yes. But it’s now been occupied by the Young One. It is most likely His domain now,” Setut replied. Dorothy paused, then added, “So basically, that’s the enemy’s main stronghold, isn’t it? Then your suggestion must be that we—” “We must go there immediately!” Before Dorothy could finish, Setut interrupted with a declaration that caught her off guard. Dorothy furrowed her brow. “Are you sure? Charging straight into the enemy’s base without proper preparation?” “I’m certain. If what you told me is true—that the Young One has acquired a significant portion of the God of Commerce’s divinity—then the situation is far more dire than it seems. “To my knowledge, the God of Commerce’s power is extremely versatile, adaptable across countless applications. If the Young One sought such a power, then it must be for a grand plan that leverages that flexibility. And the moment He secures that divinity, the plan will begin—immediately and swiftly.” As Setut finished, Whitestone interjected. “He’s right. Dark Gold divinity—its application is incredibly broad. With a well-devised plan, it can commodify all things. Which, essentially, gives the user command over all things…” “Heh, not bad for someone without even the faintest rumor of existence,” Setut commented dryly. “Looks like the Earth Shaper has sharper insight than most.” He continued. “To open the Path of Pilgrimage to the Forbidden Domain without an existing tether requires a grand-scale ritual at the sacred land of Revelation—and that takes time. By then, the Young One’s plan may be complete. “But now, Hafdar and the others are using a tethered passage to reach the Divine Throne Domain—and the Earth Shaper has pinned it down. We must seize this opportunity and head in now—while the plan is still unfolding—so we can stop Him! “Wait any longer, and it may be too late.” After a pause, Dorothy smiled. “Invading the enemy’s base directly… What a reckless gambit.” “Yes… but under the current circumstances, it’s the only answer. Now that I’ve given my advice, what’s your answer, successor of the wise?” Setut met her gaze as he posed the question. Dorothy turned toward Nephthys and Vania. “This mission is dangerous. Vania, Senior Neph, are you willing to come with me?” Without hesitation, Vania placed her hand over her chest and answered devoutly. “So long as it is Miss Dorothea’s command, I will follow without question…” Meanwhile, Nephthys—still drooling slightly while ogling the shattered product weapon fragments—suddenly snapped back to awareness at Vania’s words and scratched her head. “Huh? We’re going somewhere again? Well, if Miss Dorothy’s going, then of course I’m in. Just let me go freshen up first, okay?” Dorothy then turned her gaze to Artcheli. She met Dorothy’s eyes calmly and said, “No need to ask. With things as they are, of course I’m coming. If we don’t act, this will turn into a massive disaster—and the Holy Church already has enough of those…” Just then, a familiar, aged voice rang out from the distance. “I’ll go too. I’ve got a score to settle with that old bastard…” It was Aldrich, hands clasped behind his back, walking toward the group. Dorothy greeted Artcheli and Aldrich with a smile before turning to Setut once more. “You see my answer, Setut.” “Very good… Those who hide in the dark, endlessly scheming, are fit only to be conspirators. Only those who act with true resolve deserve to be called wise.” Setut nodded approvingly. “Remember what the Divine Mentor once taught us: Those who treat others as chess pieces will never surpass those who are willing to place themselves on the board. “This journey… I’ll join you as well.” Setut declared solemnly to Dorothy. Meanwhile, Dorothy turned toward Whitestone, who promptly responded. “Understood. I’ll begin the rite to expand the passage immediately. I’ll remain here in the real world to perform the ritual—I won’t be able to accompany you…” As he spoke, Whitestone’s sandy face scattered into the air. At the same time, the massive stone spear floating in the sky began to glow with intense light. A new array appeared at the rift’s edge and rapidly expanded. Whitestone had begun widening the portal. Meanwhile, Setut turned to Dorothy and continued. “We need to prepare a few things. Get the artisans to craft these charms based on this pattern. Use your divine authority as the successor of the Divine Mentor to bless them.” As he spoke, Setut conjured a small, eye-shaped charm from ice and snow midair. Dorothy looked at it with curiosity and asked. “What’s this?” “In the Holy Dynasty’s tradition, every pilgrim wears one during audience rites. This is a practice passed down from the Divine Mentor. “This charm was originally blessed by the Divine Mentor Himself. Now that you are His successor, it falls to you to carry on that duty.” “I see…” Dorothy murmured thoughtfully while examining the crystalline charm. She then promptly took action—approaching Yellowstone and asking him to forge a batch of identical metal charms in a short time. Afterward, she performed the blessings herself, just as Setut instructed. At last, everything was ready. Whitestone expanded the narrow fissure into a considerably wide opening. With Dorothy at the lead, the group—now equipped with their charms—stood prepared to depart. Before they set off, Whitestone’s voice echoed through the air once more. “One final note: this passage is highly unstable. Chaotic currents from the inner realm may occur. Take this with you—it will guide your direction if you get lost within the turbulence.” As he spoke, Yellowstone stepped forward, holding out what looked like an unremarkable brass staff and handed it to Dorothy. She accepted it without hesitation. “Direction guidance? Is it related to the Holy Church?” Artcheli asked curiously, eyeing the brass staff in Dorothy’s hands. Yellowstone nodded and smiled. “Yes, you could say it’s one of the collaborative products between myself and the Church.” Dorothy studied Yellowstone for a moment, staff in hand, and then asked with curiosity. “Sir Yellowstone, aren’t you coming with us?” “No… Yellowstone must remain here with me to maintain the ritual and reinforce the passage,” came Whitestone’s disembodied voice again. Dorothy, still curious, pressed further. “Is the passage so unstable it needs two Gold-rank Beyonders to maintain it?” “Yes… the difficulty is very high. That’s why Yellowstone absolutely cannot go with you. He must stay behind. Please trust us, Divine Child—this is our area of expertise…” Whitestone’s tone was laden with meaning. Upon hearing this, Dorothy furrowed her brow slightly, then let out a soft sigh. “All right… I’ll trust you. One last question—your god… can the Core of Order still respond to you?” At her question, both Whitestone and Yellowstone fell silent. Finally, Whitestone murmured quietly. “The Great Craftsman is no longer in the Furnace Realm… We don’t know exactly where He went. But before His departure, He declared that He would honor all covenants and descend at the appropriate moment…” “Honor all covenants… descend at the appropriate moment…” Dorothy repeated the words thoughtfully, pondering them for a moment. Whether she reached a conclusion or not, she said nothing more—just turned and walked toward the massive magical array in the distance. The others followed, one by one. Now, it was time for Dorothy to confront the young false god seated upon the divine throne… That Throne of Fate— Could have only one true master.