Translator’s Notes:
Creation Realm = Crimson-rank (I translated this to Creator Realm or sothing a few hundred chapters ago in Shadi-Setut conversation)
Archetype Realm = Gold-rank
===========================
Beyond the Pseudo History World, Busalet.
In the dark of night over Busalet, beneath a shrouded, oppressive sky, an imnse and brutal battle continued to rage—and it was only intensifying.
The four undead pharaohs from the ancient era, having reclaid their original physical remains and received reinforcent from the projected mausoleum, had seen a trendous leap in power. This drastically shifted the tide of battle—where once Unina had the advantage, it now gradually tipped in the pharaohs’ favor.
Drawing upon the imnse vitality embedded within the fleshland beneath her, Unina conjured wave after wave of wolf-beasts, flying insects, and plagues, launching relentless assaults against the pharaohs.
“Stagnation…”
With a whispered chant, Setut activated his power. The surrounding temperature plumted instantly, dropping far below freezing and continuing its descent without hesitation. As the air turned frigid, the sticky mbranes coating the fleshland’s surface froze solid in an instant. A thick layer of frost blanketed the vast expanse of flesh, silencing its heaving, breath-like movents.
But that wasn’t all. Having reclaid dominion over the skies, Setut summoned dense thunderclouds from which poured a torrential rain of icy spikes—each raindrop a solid, needle-like ice shard, exceptionally sharp and durable.
As they fell from the heavens, these lethal ice spikes pierced the frozen mbranes and drove deep into the flesh below. A surge of piercing cold erupted from within the fleshland, freezing muscle into rigidity and causing blood vessels to crystallize en masse.
Under the barrage of ice rain and plunging temperatures, the vitality of Unina’s fleshland plumted. Both its ability to spawn bio-weapons and its self-defense chanisms slowed drastically. Once crimson-red, the terrain rapidly turned white, as if a tundra were about to form.
“Wither…”
Elsewhere, Hafdar swung his withered arms continuously, casting death curses upon the wolf-beasts that had survived the ice to charge forward. Simultaneously, he expanded his death domain—turning the already frostbitten fleshlands into lifeless, crumbling husks. As life faded from the land, it decayed to gray ash.
From the crumbling flesh, black mist surged—coalescing into twisted, shrieking spirits. These death-shadows sward toward Unina in waves. In response, tendrils and whips sprouted from the still-living fleshland near her. These lashed out, scattering the shadows. Yet after striking down only a few, the whips themselves withered, shrank, and collapsed like exhausted limbs, rotting away where they fell.
anwhile, Taharka had the darkness-born entity Aedandevin drive away plagues and insects with summoned storms. Then, drawing out a soul-fla and unfurling a scroll, he chanted a solemn incantation.
“Chisel of Excavation… Assault Warhamr… Vanguard of the Mountain Furnace Kingdom… Bartus, cross ti and appear by my power…”
As his words ended, the soul-fla flared with a dark crimson glow. When the light faded, a figure appeared.
It was a stout dwarf—barely 1.3 ters tall, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested. He wore a gleaming, ornate suit of heavy armor, his face bearded and helted. Though small, his presence was formidable.
“Per our pact… Advance.”
Taharka pointed toward Unina in the distance and issued his command to the dwarf, Bartus. Bartus snorted through his beard, clenched his fist, and slamd it into the ground.
With that strike, the earth beneath him shattered into massive fissures. Deep cracks spread rapidly, and their interiors glowed red-hot as if superheated from within.
Bartus then raised his hand high, and from the glowing fissures gushed molten fragnts and lava, rushing into his hand and rging at high speed. His earlier blow had unearthed precious ores buried deep underground, refining them instantly. They fused and forged in mid-air, compressing under intense heat. Within monts, Bartus held a newly ford one-handed warhamr—modest in design, but seared with glowing, superheated cracks.
Gripping the freshly forged weapon, Bartus let out a battle cry, then leapt into the air and smashed his hamr downward.
BOOM!!
The warhamr’s impact triggered a violent tremor, splitting the earth as a massive crack surged toward Unina. From the chasm erupted a blazing geyser of lava, obliterating the frostbitten, decayed flesh and the weakened tentacle barriers barely holding the line. In one breath, the fountain of magma engulfed Unina’s crimson body entirely.
Yet within the lava, sothing began to expand—bulging, as though it might burst forth at any mont.
Seeing this, Setut raised a gnarled finger and fired a ghostly white freezing beam. It struck the lava geyser directly, instantly solidifying it into a mountain of black stone. Unina was sealed within. Then, Setut layered thick glacial ice over the stone with another burst of power.
“Soul Freeze…”
He whispered.
That final attack froze Unina’s very soul—robbing her of all sensory and motor function.
Seizing the mont, Hafdar waved his hand, sending all his death-shadows swarming toward the ice-sealed sphere. They burrowed through stone, fire, and frost, carrying the breath of death straight to Unina’s core, wrapping her in decay.
And that was still not the end.
Hafdar raised both arms. From the ground around the sealed orb, four massive skeletal arms erged—seven to eight ters long, covered in curses and ritual script, both illusory and real.
These four cursed hands pierced through the orb simultaneously, grabbing Unina’s soul and fragnts of her flesh, forcibly extracting and rging them into a powerful dium—step one in an apocalyptic curse.
“DEATH!!”
Roaring the command, Hafdar clenched his fists, crushing the soul-flesh core in his hands. Simultaneously, the distant cursed hands closed in sync—channeling the full power of the death curse to utterly annihilate the target, destroying both body and soul.
anwhile, on the other side, Bartus hurled his warhamr, smashing it directly onto the sealed sphere. Cracks instantly webbed across the impact site, and searing heat surged from within.
BOOM BOOM!!
With another thunderous explosion, the sealing sphere erupted amid a pillar of raging fire, the blast carving a massive crater into the ground and birthing a sizeable mushroom cloud in its wake.
Soul freeze. Lava bombardnt. Soul-flesh curse kill.
Setut, Taharka, and Hafdar had simultaneously unleashed their most powerful killing moves upon Unina, unleashing devastation.
The four pharaohs gazed silently at the rising mushroom cloud, and at the once-living fleshland now turned to a cold and deathly wasteland. For a while, none of them spoke—until Hafdar finally broke the silence.
“Shepsuna! Is that thing dead yet?!”
Shepsuna paused, then replied in a low voice.
“Right now, I can no longer sense her existence—neither her body nor her soul…”
“I see… Then we’ve succeeded… she’s been reduced to ashes?”
Setut asked, picking up the thought. But Shepsuna shook her head.
“No… while she’s no longer here, she hasn’t truly disappeared. In fact… she’s about to return.”
“What? She hasn’t vanished?!”
“That’s right. A being favored by the God of Chalice is undying. Even if utterly annihilated, she can be reborn anew…”
No sooner had Shepsuna finished her explanation than an anomaly arose. In the distance, before the mushroom cloud, the very fabric of space suddenly began to bleed—blood-veined rifts spreading outward like a planar wound.
Then, the blood-lined space bulged forward unnaturally, splitting open to reveal a dim, fleshy realm within.
From this blood-flesh dinsion, torrents of blood gushed outward, ejecting a massive lump of flesh that landed with a squelch onto the earth.
It unfolded—revealing a grotesque, crimson-skinned giant infant, nearly half the size of an adult, with a twisted, monstrous face. From its abdon trailed an umbilical cord, still attached to the bloody rift behind it.
“Endless continuation and conception of life—its propagation and transformation—this too is one aspect of the God of Chalice’s divinity. To the God of Chalice, all death and destruction rely herald rebirth…”
Shepsuna murmured as she gazed upon the newly reborn Unina—reincarnated in the form of a grotesque, monstrous infant. She understood that Unina had reclaid the majority of her divine nature. To try and destroy her now was nigh impossible.
Worse still, under divine protection, how long could they even last?
The reborn Unina raised her hideous, infantile face toward the dark clouds overhead, toward the falling snow… and opened her mouth to release an eerie, piercing wail.
“————”
That shriek echoed across the entire desert of Busalet. Setut, who had just been gathering celestial energies for another assault, suddenly realized—he had lost control over the sky! His authority over the celestial domain… was slipping away.
With the infant’s shriek, the falling snow transford into rain—but not ordinary rain. What fell now was foul, putrid blood rain.
It poured in torrents—bloody, stinking, and oppressive—soaking the frozen, decayed fleshland. The world around them turned into a hellish scene of grotesque ruin and divine blight.
…
Within the Pseudo History World, Busalet.
Inside the vast, ancient cityscape, within the grand illusory pyramid, Dorothy stood upon the tiworn altar, facing the ancient being from seven thousand years ago, listening to secrets long buried beneath the dust of history.
“You an… you endured in this undying, undeceasing state… just to personally convey the advancent ritual of the Pure Reason Path to , and to entrust the divine power left by Heaven’s Arbiter?”
Dorothy asked in awe after hearing the Heaven-Anointed Sage’s words.
The airy female voice answered gently.
“Yes… It was the only way to preserve the Divine ntor’s final legacy. The calamity born of the Divine ntor’s fall affected those most deeply tied to the Revelation system with unmatched severity.
“As one bound most intimately to the Divine ntor, escaping the corruption of Their fall was nearly impossible. My only option was to sacrifice my life, channel the Divine ntor’s divinity, and perform a ritual using the entire Sacred Land—cutting its history loose and diverting it from the stream of true history. That spared us the corruption… but also sealed my fate.”
The Sage’s voice carried a faint sigh. Dorothy, having heard this, solemnly asked.
“To go so far… was that truly your will?”
“Of course. Preserving the Divine ntor’s legacy is my greatest purpose. The Sacred Dynasty was built upon a bond of ntor and disciple. It was a nation of learning, of the passing down of knowledge and power. For we followers of Revelation, the pursuit and inheritance of wisdom is the highest tradition…”
Dorothy felt a peculiar emotion stir within her.
“The pursuit and inheritance of wisdom is a sacred tradition of Revelation’s followers… But in the present world, Revelation has been extinct for over a thousand years…”
That thought flashed through her mind before she asked, more seriously.
“In today’s world, Revelation has long since vanished.”
“I’m aware. But in a way, that extinction has protected Revelation. Without the Divine ntor, Revelation might have been corrupted or usurped by another force. But as long as I still exist—as the Heaven-Anointed Sage inheriting directly from the Divine ntor—then the Path of Revelation is not truly vacant. Were it otherwise, so other deity would likely have claid that seat by now…”
Dorothy blinked at this statent.
“You’re saying… if not for your presence, Heaven's Arbiter would already have been replaced by another God of Revelation?”
“Exactly. A main deity’s seat within a divine construct rarely remains vacant for long. Gods of similar attributes will seek to claim it through trials or chance alignnts. And even if none do, a new god may spontaneously erge from the vacant seat.
“But Revelation’s throne remains unclaid because, first—so of the Divine ntor’s divinity still lingers within , and that divinity influences the seat. Second—because of the very nature of Revelation. It is a power intertwined with history, law, and legacy. As long as orthodox history and succession have not been completely erased, it’s difficult for a new Revelation deity to erge.
“I, here and now, am the last trace of the Divine ntor and the Sacred Dynasty—the greatest remnant of history and divine law. As long as I persist as the Heaven-Anointed Sage, the legacy of Revelation is not broken.”
Her voice echoed across the chamber, drifting like wind through ancient stone. After a brief pause, Dorothy asked with quiet intensity.
“So you intend… for to inherit Heaven's Arbiter’s divinity—and its spiritual succession? Should I suspect… that this inheritance is part of so grand resurrection plan? That perhaps, Heaven's Arbiter’s will lies within this divine power and legacy… and that by inheriting it, I would beco Their vessel, and eventually… be replaced?”
Dorothy looked solemnly at the remains before her. The Heaven-Anointed Sage had gone to extre lengths to preserve Heaven's Arbiter’s spiritual succession—refusing to allow any other Revelation deity outside of that succession to erge. This prompted a flicker of doubt in her heart. She began to question whether this seemingly generous “gift” was truly as simple as it appeared.
“Heh… If the Divine ntor could truly be resurrected through your body, that would be wonderful... I’d welco it.”
The Heaven-Anointed Sage replied without the slightest hint of displeasure at Dorothy’s suspicion. With a light laugh, she continued in a calm tone.
“But… sadly, inheritance is not possession—nor is it usurpation. The fall of the Divine ntor is irreversible. What is gone, is gone. If I truly intended for the Divine ntor to revive through you, I wouldn’t have told you anything about the vacancy of the god-seat. I’d have used better wording, subtler ans, to get you to agree without ever realizing what you’d accepted.
“The reason I don’t wish for a God of Revelation to be born outside the Divine ntor’s line is because of Their prophecy. According to the revelation I received, this is the only way to minimize the complete ‘fall’ of the Revelation system.”
“Fall? What do you an?”
Dorothy asked, frowning slightly at this new term.
“I don’t know the exact nature of this so-called ‘fall.’ I have only scattered guesses. But it seems to be a kind of formless influence that affects all gods—sothing the Divine ntor called ‘fall.’
“What exactly is it? That’s a secret between gods—sothing I’m not qualified to know. But from what I’ve observed, all deities seem to fear it. ‘Fall’ is a taboo among gods. Perhaps the Divine ntor’s downfall was related to it in so way.
“I can’t say for certain what link exists between this phenonon and the gods, but I can say that the Divine ntor did everything possible to prevent it—including making sure no new god would automatically erge to claim the Revelation throne, and no god of similar domain would seize it by force.”
The Heaven-Anointed Sage continued her explanation with patient clarity. Listening, Dorothy seed to recall sothing and nodded thoughtfully.
Rumble…
Just as Dorothy was about to ask more, the altar beneath her began to tremble slightly. A low, muffled rumble echoed through the vast pyramid, accompanied by an invisible ripple of spiritual force spreading through its interior.
“What’s happening?”
Dorothy asked warily, scanning her surroundings. The Heaven-Anointed Sage remained unhurried.
“When you reconnected the Sacred Land’s history to that of the present world, the two began slowly overlapping. Now the overlap is nearly complete—the Sacred Land has arrived at the current point in present-world history.
“And now, I can sense powerful, conflicting forces disrupting the Sacred Land from the present world. What you just felt was the effect of that interference.
“I can feel Shepsuna, Setut… they’re currently fending off enemies in the present world. And their foes… wield a divinity far beyond comparison. It is… the power of another god.”
Her attention seed to return to Dorothy. The voice regained its composure as she said.
“Seer of Fate, our ti grows short. Make your choice. Do you trust ? Will you inherit the Divine ntor’s godhood and legacy? If you’re willing, I will also pass to you the knowledge of ascension that you seek. If you’re not… I will use the last of my power to send you out of the Sacred Land and hide it once more in the depths of history—doing my best to keep the Divine ntor’s legacy safe from defilent, though I doubt I will succeed…”
Despite her words, the Sage’s voice remained tranquil, as if Dorothy’s choice did not truly concern her. Dorothy, hearing this, fell silent for a mont. But then, with firm conviction in her eyes, she replied.
“I choose to inherit it. I believe this may be my only chance to reach Gold-rank—or anything higher. I won’t give it up lightly.”
Her expression was resolute. The Sage’s response was calm, with a trace of satisfaction.
“I’m glad you managed to let go of baseless suspicion and make the right choice. There are many clever people in this world—but many are also ruined by their own cleverness, obsessed with petty details and blinded to the bigger picture.
“People always try to asure gods by their own standards. They try to guess divine motives with human minds. So think gods are just mortals with power—rely stronger versions of themselves. They project their own narrow thinking onto the divine. That is ignorance.
“A god’s perspective lies far beyond mortal comprehension. And that shift in perspective changes their thinking, their morality—it becos sothing beyond the grasp of common human speculation. This is truest of the Divine ntor… While so gods may be tainted with mortal flaws, for the Divine ntor, such things are impossible. Of all deities, They had the greatest foresight—the deepest understanding of fate.
“If the Divine ntor had wanted to deceive you, They would have had countless ways to trap you—without you even knowing it, perhaps even letting you walk willingly into it, smug and self-assured. Not… like this, where you’re given a clear choice, a chance to doubt, to decide—O foreigner from beyond this world.”
As she spoke the last line, Dorothy’s eyes widened. She stood stunned for a couple of seconds before murmuring.
“I don’t belong to this world… Even that—Heaven's Arbiter foresaw?”
“Naturally,” the Sage replied calmly.
Dorothy imdiately followed up.
“Then… my crossing over into this world—was it orchestrated by Heaven's Arbiter? Was I brought here by Them?!”
For the first ti, her deepest secret seed to have been seen through. Her heart surged with emotion.
But the Sage answered evenly.
“That… I do not know. The Divine ntor’s revelation foresaw an outsider arriving in this world—but it did not specify how that outsider would co. Was it a remnant trace of the Divine ntor’s godhood that caused it? Or perhaps the will of another god? Or so other unknown force? These… I do not know.”
“……”
Hearing the words from the skeletal remains before her, Dorothy fell silent, montarily unsure of how to respond. Her expression was deeply complicated, lost in thoughts she could not yet put into words.
“…Sigh. Alright then, let’s begin this so-called inheritance.”
Letting out a long breath and finding no clear answers for now, Dorothy gave a small shake of her head as she spoke. Before long, the Heaven-Anointed Sage’s voice rose once more.
“Very well. I shall now impart to you the ritual for ascending to the Archetype Realm. However, before that, I have one request.”
“What kind of request?”
Dorothy asked curiously.
The response caught her sowhat off guard.
“I would like you to call ‘teacher’ before I begin the teaching.”
This skeletal figure, decayed for seven thousand years, spoke with a voice steeped in ancient ti. Hearing this, Dorothy was stunned at first. But after realizing the significance of such traditions in the First Dynasty, she inhaled deeply, placed one hand over her chest, and bowed deeply toward the seated remains.
“…Teacher.”
“Good.”
The Heaven-Anointed Sage responded in a tone that carried relaxation, comfort, and perhaps a trace of nostalgia.
“I… the last Heaven-Anointed Sage of the Sacred Dynasty, the Divine ntor’s final proclair of revelation—I, Viagetta, now fulfill my last duty as a guide, and pass on to you the secrets of the Archetype Realm within the Path of Pure Reason…”
And so, the teacher from seven thousand years ago, one nad Viagetta, gave Dorothy her final lesson. Within that short ti, she imparted all the critical knowledge for advancing to the Gold rank of the Path of Pure Reason.
Then—just as the lesson ended—a new disturbance rippled through the space.
“…It seems the battle outside is growing more intense. And… it looks like Shepsuna and the others are beginning to struggle…”
Viagetta murmured, sensing the outside world. Dorothy quickly stepped forward.
“Teacher, is there anything I can do to help them?”
“There is,” Viagetta said plainly.
“And in fact, it’s what you must do next.”
“?” Dorothy asked.
“Yes. The Sacred Land must be defended. Since you have accepted the inheritance, we can now adopt more active ans of protection.
“I will now pass the Divine ntor’s divinity to you. Use it to aid Shepsuna and the others—help them repel the enemy.”
Her voice was slightly weaker than before. Dorothy frowned.
“Divinity… Can I even wield Heaven's Arbiter’s divinity?”
“In ordinary circumstances, only those in the Archetype Realm can contain or wield divinity that is not a sustained blessing. You are currently in the Creation Realm. By all reason, you should be unable to contain the Divine ntor’s godhood.”
Viagetta continued.
“However… since you arrived here guided by prophecy, there must be sothing special about you. During the transmission earlier, I examined your body and found… you already contain a different form of godhood within. I believe your constitution is naturally suited for containing divine essence.”
Dorothy froze.
“The godhood already in my body… don’t tell she ans the system? Is… is the system actually a form of divinity?”
The thought shot through her mind, and she imdiately asked the question aloud.
“You just said… I already possess so kind of godhood?”
“Yes. And it’s a form quite close to the Divine ntor’s own. Perhaps that’s why your body is different. In any case, though you are not yet an Archetype Realm, you can still host divinity.”
Viagetta’s tone was steady and composed. Dorothy blinked in disbelief.
“Wait—you’re saying the divinity I already carry… isn’t from Heaven's Arbiter?”
“Correct. While it is very close to the Revelation divinity, there are subtle differences.
“I do not have the ability to analyze divinity in full detail—I can only make approximate observations. What I can tell is that the godhood within you is not entirely aligned with the Divine ntor’s. It may co from another Revelation deity… but among all the records I’ve ever seen, the Divine ntor is the only known Revelation deity.”
Viagetta’s words brought Dorothy to a standstill, as if her entire mind had frozen.
“The godhood within … isn’t from Heaven's Arbiter?”
She looked down at her outstretched hand, whispering in disbelief.
Just then, Viagetta spoke again.
“There is no more ti. Let us begin the inheritance. I will now bestow the Divine ntor’s godhood upon you. While your body can contain it, you may not yet fully control it. So I will use the last of my strength—just this once—to assist you. Together, we can wield the Divine ntor’s godhood to help the Sacred Land survive this crisis.”
Her voice firm and resolute, Viagetta turned toward Dorothy. After gathering her thoughts, Dorothy looked once more at the ancient remains, then nodded solemnly and said,
“Very well. Let’s begin.”
As her words fell, a soft violet glow began to radiate from Viagetta’s withered body.
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