On the far western shore, deep within the heart of the Starfall Continent, lies the Ancestral Valley.
In the depths of night, all beings within the Ancestral Valley had fallen into a solemn silence. The greatest and most significant ceremony of the Shamanic Church in this era was currently underway. A barrier radiating a faint white light enshrouded the core of the sacred land, with overwhelming prohibitions sealing the ceremony from inside and out, isolating it from any interfering factors.
And the first thing to be excluded—was Kapak.
“Please let through! I really have urgent information to report to the True Spirit Shaman! This concerns a conspiracy by the Spirit Shamans who worship the Evil Great Spirit! The Western Great Shaman participating in this ritual right now is a fake! This ceremony cannot continue like this! If you won’t let through, then at least deliver my ssage to the True Spirit Shaman!”
Standing before a grand and towering curtain of pale light, Kapak pleaded urgently with several wild spirits guarding the screen. However, these spirits—particularly the one shaped like a lion—had no intention of listening to the pleas of a re Black Earth-rank Shaman Apprentice. No matter how much Kapak begged, they remained unmoved. Eventually, bothered by his persistence, they growled threateningly.
“The Great Wild Rite must proceed uninterrupted once it begins, or dire consequences will follow! No matter what your reason is, you must not disturb it. We are fused with this prohibition and embody its power—if you do not wish to die, begone, apprentice!”
In a soul-language only those with spiritual abilities could understand, the wild spirits bellowed their warning at Kapak, their tone filled with unmistakable nace. Hearing this, Kapak froze, trying to say sothing but ultimately unable to, retreating a few steps in silence.
From their words, he understood now that the Great Wild Rite had a chanism that required its uninterrupted completion. This prohibition was the enforcent of that rule—an incantation of law. Though the wild spirits appeared intelligent and free-willed, they had already been absorbed into the spellwork, becoming extensions of the prohibition. They were its living embodint and could not be reasoned with.
Even if Uta were in his place now, he might not succeed in persuading them. Let alone soone like him, a re Black Earth-rank apprentice.
“There’s no way through… what… what should I do…?”
Driven back into the forest, Kapak stared anxiously at the radiant barrier before him. He knew full well the evil conspiracy of the Nether Coffin Order was slowly distorting this most sacred of Shamanic Church rites—but he was powerless to stop it. A wave of deep helplessness surged through him.
“Esteed Scholar… I can’t get the warning to Teacher Uta… What should I do now?”
Slumping to the ground, Kapak pleaded inwardly in desperation. The only one he could still turn to was that seemingly omniscient, mysterious “Scholar” who had helped him all this ti.
Kapak voiced his plea in his mind, but Scholar did not respond right away. It seed even they found this predicant difficult and were unable to imdiately devise a solution.
Faced with Scholar’s silence, Kapak did not press further. He waited anxiously, afraid even that they might have no way out.
That tense stillness lasted for a mont—until, just as Kapak was about to speak again, Scholar’s familiar voice finally returned within his thoughts.
“Kapak… if I recall, wasn’t the reason Pasadiko didn’t dare kill you before because Uta placed so secret spell on you?”
Hearing that voice, Kapak’s furrowed brow eased slightly. He imdiately responded.
“Yes… my teacher cast a secret technique on , sothing other Shamans don’t seem to have. It’s a variant of the Shaman Soul Link ability—he connected our souls in part. As long as I suffer so drastic change—like death, or my soul being banished or destroyed—my teacher can sense it, and even perceive what I sensed right before it happened…”
Kapak explained excitedly, describing the special power Uta had left on him. But as he spoke, he suddenly paused, a stunned look spreading across his face. Hesitantly, he asked.
“C-could it be… Scholar, you want to…”
“First, find a tree. Carve the ssage you want to convey to Uta on it. Keep it concise.”
The Scholar didn’t answer him directly, but simply gave him this clear instruction. Hearing it, Kapak froze for a mont, his expression stiffened. Swallowing hard, he replied in a trembling voice.
“Al… alright…”
With rigid limbs, he stepped toward a large tree, drew a dagger from his waist, and swiftly peeled away the bark, carving his ssage deep into the trunk.
It didn’t take long. Once his inscription was finished, Kapak stood staring at it, his breath growing uneven.
“Listen closely, Kapak. Now answer one question: do you trust ?”
Scholar’s voice echoed once more in his heart. Kapak’s eyes flickered. After taking a deep breath to steady himself, he answered firmly.
“Hah… hah… I do… I trust you, Scholar. You’ve saved countless tis, and you are a benefactor to my tribe. I trust you with all my heart…”
“Good… in that case, rember my words. Do not fear. I promise, you will be fine. You are a brave warrior of your tribe. So now, you must…”
Back in her suite in Aarnstel, standing on the balcony, Dorothy’s gaze sharpened. In a whisper of resolve, she spoke within.
“Take your own life.”
Obeying her command, Kapak inhaled deeply, suppressing all emotion. His eyes fixed on the words he had carved into the tree as he raised the dagger to his throat—and in one swift motion, blood sprayed outward.
“Urgh… ngh…”
Clutching his bleeding neck, the young warrior of the Tupa Tribe stumbled and collapsed to the ground. As blood gushed from the wound, his consciousness faded. In his final monts, he struggled to lift his head, forcing his gaze toward the ssage carved into the tree—until his vision finally went dark.
Lying in the forest, Kapak’s body went still, life slipping away. And at that precise mont of death, thousands of miles away, atop Dorothy’s ornate cane, the crimson gem embedded at its tip began to glow with a vivid, blood-red light.
…
Within the great prohibition barrier of the Ancestral Valley, at the heart of the ritual site.
Surrounding the towering and magnificent totem pole, led by the True Spirit Shaman and the four Great Shamans, countless shamans from various tribes were rising and falling in chorus, chanting invocation phrases. With each cycle of chants, a powerful spirit-summoning force was steadily accumulating—until it reached the mont of being able to touch the divine.
At the eastern quadrant of the totem pole, seated cross-legged at his designated place, the Tupa Tribe’s shaman Uta was faithfully carrying out his seemingly insignificant part of the ritual, just like any other ordinary shaman.
Just as Uta finished another round of chanting with the Great Shamans and was about to begin his personal hymn of praise, he suddenly froze mid-motion. His weathered yet calm expression shifted into one of shock.
“Ka… pak…”
From deep within his soul, he had felt the surge of a ssage, one from his most cherished disciple. A wave of deep sorrow and grief surged from within the old man's heart. With his attention drawn away from the ritual, he couldn’t help but feel his vision blur with wetness.
“Why… what happened out there… for you to go this far…”
A sorrow that he hadn’t felt in decades filled Uta’s heart. Yet he also knew this was not the ti for grief. His disciple had used his own life to deliver a ssage. He had to take it seriously.
“Hoo…”
Closing his eyes, Uta exhaled deeply to suppress his surging emotions. Outwardly, he maintained the flow of the Great Wild Rite. Inwardly, he began praying to the being whom he had once rejected out of caution and religious orthodoxy—the one Kapak called “Aka.”
“... Gate and Key of Infinite Truth… O great Aka, Recorder of All Things…”
Inwardly repenting his past rejection, Uta completed his prayer and was t with the voice that, until now, only his disciple had ever heard.
“Greetings, Shaman Uta. I’m honored to speak with you directly like this. I am one of Aka’s servants—the one Kapak referred to as ‘Scholar.’ I am now communicating with you through Aka’s divine power. You may speak to through your thoughts.”
A voice echoed in his consciousness. Upon hearing it, Uta imdiately responded inwardly.
“What's happened to Kapak?!”
“Do not worry, Shaman Uta. Your disciple is safe. Though he did experience death once, I was able to save him. He is a brave and capable warrior,” ca the Scholar’s response—accompanied by a projected image.
In that image, Uta saw Kapak in a forest, coughing and struggling to rise as he clutched his neck. He was examining the place where his throat had been slashed, clearly overjoyed to find the wound gone.
Seeing this, a heavy weight dropped from Uta’s heart. He sighed in relief and cald himself before replying to the voice.
“Good… thank goodness… I didn’t expect you still possessed a secret thod to defy death. Had I known this earlier, I would have listened to Kapak and prayed to your god Aka much sooner...
“Well then, tell quickly—what is the urgent matter? Kapak said soone wicked has infiltrated the Great Wild Rite and seeks to corrupt it? Who?”
Now that he knew Kapak was safe, Uta switched into serious mode. Due to the urgency, Kapak hadn’t been able to carve every detail into the tree; his ssage had rely conveyed the severity of the situation and urged Uta to pray to Aka so that Dorothy could establish a direct channel of communication.
“It’s a bit complicated,” Dorothy, speaking as the Scholar, began.
“In short, the traitor embedded here is the Western Great Shaman Pasadiko. He is a mole planted by the Nether Coffin Order. Their plan began forty years ago, during the selection of the Western Great Shaman. And you, Uta, were actually one of their victims. Though you didn’t realize it. The rightful heir to the Western Great Shaman title… was you.”
Uta was stunned by what he heard.
“What? The Western Great Shaman… ?”
“I’ll transmit the details directly through Aka’s divine power in the form of a Revelation.”
Dorothy said, and with that, she bundled the relevant mories and transmitted them into Uta’s mind all at once, sparing the need for lengthy explanations.
In an instant, Uta felt a flood of information pour into his mind. He stood there in a daze.
“The Western Great Shaman… Pasadiko… the Evil Great Spirit… Forgetting… I… urgh…”
As the revelations settled, Uta felt a sharp, splitting pain in his head. Reflexively, he clutched at his forehead.
Within that pain, sothing deep in his consciousness began rapidly surfacing—ancient, long-buried mories. What he saw felt like the emotional weight of finding forgotten childhood toys in a dusty corner of the attic.
These were mories.
mories Uta hadn’t even known he had forgotten—mories of imnse importance. Triggered by Dorothy’s revelation, they surged to the surface.
He saw scenes of his past—his struggles and his journey—and rembered why he had embarked upon them.
“Hah… hah… These… these are my mories? I rember… I rember everything…”
Panting through the receding pain, Uta slowly lifted his head and looked toward the towering central totem pole. He murmured to himself.
“I was… the most gifted disciple of the Sakha Tribe’s Shaman Xiedo… the youngest Shaman in the Western Tribal Alliance… I was a participant in the Dao Spirit Trials… Forty years ago, I completed all the trials. I was supposed to travel to the Ancestral Valley to complete the final step… but I forgot everything…”
Clutching his forehead, Uta tried to stay in sync with the rhythm of the ritual even as he whispered to himself. His gaze now locked onto the Western Great Shaman, Pasadiko.
“Pasadiko… that position… should have been mine. I clearly finished all the trials. I was already on the final journey. But I was… cursed by the Evil Great Spirit. And for forty years… no one, not even I, noticed…
“Shaful… This is a disgrace to the entire Shaman Path!”
Now that he rembered the truth, a rage surged through Uta’s heart—one not felt in decades. The fury roared like that of a young man. Luckily, his age and discipline allowed him to suppress it outwardly. Had this happened when he was younger, he might have exploded on the spot.
“They didn’t just curse you,” Dorothy continued through the channel.
“They likely gathered information or diums from all the trial participants—or cursed the entire trial itself. Everyone but Pasadiko was afflicted. That’s why only he completed the process.”
Uta nodded slowly as he cald his anger.
“Yes… there were suspicious signs near so trial sites. They didn’t kill us—probably out of fear the True Spirit Shaman might divine the truth… The Evil Great Spirit’s followers stole power from the Great Soul. The curses they cast using that power were so strong that no one noticed anything for forty years… Only divine power can challenge divine power…
“Your Aka truly is a high and mighty deity…”
Uta marveled inwardly. Dorothy, however, gave a modest cough and then redirected the conversation.
“Let’s return to the matter at hand, Shaman Uta. Now that your mories have returned, you should clearly understand the gravity of the situation. We must stop the Great Wild Rite from continuing. If the Soul Burier Suun is summoned through this tampered ritual… the consequences could be catastrophic.”
Dorothy spoke thus to Uta. After a brief silence, Uta responded in a solemn tone.
"Once the Great Wild Rite begins... it’s difficult to turn back. A grand, high-level ritual of this scale isn’t sothing that can be stopped at a whim. I’m just an ordinary shaman—one insignificant link in this vast ritual. Even if I gave it my all, I likely wouldn’t be able to affect the overall ritual in any aningful way..."
"Then what about the True Spirit Shaman? Can you accuse Pasadiko before him and have him stop the rite and deal with the Nether Coffin’s infiltrator?"
Dorothy continued to propose. Uta answered again, in a heavy voice.
"That would be difficult too… For soone like , an ordinary shaman, to suddenly jump out in the middle of such an important ritual and accuse a Great Shaman—who would believe ? Even if I could present evidence, this is the Great Wild Rite, not a trial. The True Spirit Shaman, as the presiding officiant, has neither the ti nor energy to verify any of it. Most likely, he and the other Great Shamans would just think I’m causing a disturbance and throw out… Besides, I have no absolute evidence at the mont that would instantly expose Pasadiko."
Uta’s inner voice was grave. Hearing this, Dorothy furrowed her brow slightly. It was indeed a tough situation.
Uta was currently just one among hundreds of shamans participating in the rite. His words carried too little weight. To suddenly level a major accusation during such a critical ritual—it was hard to imagine anyone would take him seriously. Truth be told, if Dorothy hadn’t directly restored Uta’s long-lost mories, even he probably wouldn’t believe her accusations against Pasadiko.
Though Uta now understood that Pasadiko had a problem, proving it would take ti—tests, verifications, indirect thods. During this key mont of the Great Wild Rite, the True Spirit Shaman clearly wouldn't allow for such delay. What Uta needed was a decisive piece of evidence—sothing undeniable that would imdiately reveal Pasadiko’s treachery. And that, he did not have.
For a ti, Dorothy, seated on her balcony chair, fell into deep thought once more. Although she had succeeded in establishing communication with Uta, she now faced a new challenge. She had to devise another solution.
“So… even you can’t do much to influence the current situation?”
Dorothy asked in his mind.
“Not even cause so big commotion during the ritual to draw attention?”
Uta pondered briefly before replying.
“If it’s just causing a big scene—I can do that. But what then? The True Spirit Shaman is watching. Even if I sacrifice my life, I wouldn’t be able to halt the ritual. Without decisive evidence proving Pasadiko’s guilt, all I’ll get for making a ruckus is expulsion.”
His tone was firm, but Dorothy smiled faintly and replied.
“Not necessarily. So, tell —what exactly could you do to make a commotion during the ritual? Maybe I can co up with a better idea once I know. Shaman Uta…”
Uta went silent for a mont, then began to explain his options to Dorothy.
…
While the Great Wild Rite progressed in steady order at the core of the Ancestral Valley, a fierce soul-centered battle was taking place on the outskirts.
The mont the undead of Rachman, founding king of the Addus-Baruch Dynasty, descended upon Nephthys, a rare bloodline-based spiritual power reawakened throughout the mysticism world. Under its effect, the tiny bird recalled the ancient form of one of its distant ancestors.
With a deafening roar, the massive ancient tyrannosaurus crushed the white bear of ice with ruthless stomps and tore apart the serpent of withered vines. Neither ihag’s blazing flas nor Norris’ frigid frost could harm the giant beast born of the ancient age. The dark ice armor it wore granted it exceptional defense.
“Damn it! What the hell is that thing?! Never seen anything like it!”
“How can a bird beco this kind of monster?! What kind of Chalice power is this?!”
Faced with the overwhelming charge of the ice-armored tyrannosaur, ihag and Norris exclaid in shock as they dodged frantically. Atop the tyrannosaur’s head, Nephthys raised her ice axe and shouted.
“Go, Dragon-Dragon!”
Under her command, the dinosaur rampaged wildly—biting, tail-whipping, and stomping to launch a series of brutal attacks at ihag and Norris. But the two, being much smaller in size—one able to skate, the other fly—had excellent mobility. The tyrannosaur’s strikes couldn’t hit them effectively.
Taking advantage of this window, the previously shattered serpent and bear wild spirits began to reassemble. Nephthys imdiately directed her tyrannosaur to trample them without hesitation, crushing their bodies just as they had halfway reford.
Then, a fireball ca flying from the sky and struck the tyrannosaur’s back, but it was blocked by its dark ice armor. Though the blast scattered flas, the thick armor had few gaps for heat to penetrate. Even if a little got through, the damage it caused was negligible compared to the beast’s massive body.
After taking a hit, the tyrannosaur turned its huge head, opened its gaping maw, and unleashed a blizzard skyward. A massive storm of extre cold swept across the sky, catching ihag mid-flight. His wings began to freeze rapidly. It was too late to lt the ice with fla. His only option was to fall, eyes wide with dread.
“Damn…”
Just then, Norris slid beneath ihag and used his own abilities to drive away the storm. With reduced wind and snow, ihag managed to thaw his wings. Just before crashing into the ground, he flapped them hard to slow his fall. Now gathered together, both of them wore grim expressions in the face of the tyrannosaur’s might.
“This won’t work… That thing’s too strong… we won’t win like this…”
“Norris, Pasadiko… it’s ti for the final asure. Give your souls!”
ihag called out to his allies. Startled, Norris and Pasadiko, whose soul was already inside ihag, paused, then responded with grim determination.
“Understood!”
Norris abandoned his physical body and slipped out of his armor to rge with ihag. anwhile, Pasadiko stopped the reconstruction of the two wild spirits he had been controlling, drew in their souls, and rged them into ihag as well. ihag then took out several syringes and injected himself.
“RAAAAAHHH!!”
ihag began overloading himself, fusing nurous souls and pushing his body and spirit to their limits. His gorilla-like physique turned red, muscles bulging and veins protruding, steam rising from his skin. With the help of Chalice external stimulants, his body’s capacity was forcibly boosted. On the spiritual level, Pasadiko aided by fusing the collected souls—serving as the adhesive between them.
Pasadiko, Norris—two Crimson-rank souls.
Gorilla, Vulture, Radiance Knight—three White Ash-rank souls.
Plus two wild spirits.
So many powerful souls converged into ihag’s body, transforming him rapidly. Under a cloud of rising steam, ihag’s form grew monstrous as he roared.
Seeing this, Nephthys imdiately commanded her tyrannosaur to unleash another blizzard at ihag. Snow t steam, cloaking the battlefield in a thick white fog. But from within that fog, a sudden violent gust blew through, scattering the frost breath entirely.
And then, from the mist, a towering figure slowly erged.
A giant.
This giant had the muscular bulk of a gorilla, clad in an icy armor similar to the tyrannosaur’s, complete with a helt. One arm ended in a bear’s gaping maw, the other was entwined with a serpent made of withered vines. Massive wings spread from its back. At over thirty ters tall, it even dwarfed the tyrannosaur.
“What… the hell is this? They… fused?!”
Nephthys cried in disbelief.
But there was no ti to marvel. The Chira-like Fusion Beast Giant flapped its wings and shot toward Nephthys with a storm at its back.
Overwheld, Nephthys commanded her tyrannosaur to spray more ice breath, but the fusion giant—who also wielded control over ice—simply dispersed it in front of himself.
The cold blast couldn’t stop the charge. The giant lunged at the tyrannosaur, clamping its bear-jaw arm onto its neck. With its greater mass, it slamd the tyrannosaur to the ground. As the beast struggled to retaliate, the vine-serpent arm coiled around its muzzle and then around its entire body.
Even as Nephthys swung her ice axe to sever the vines, she too was entangled from all sides and bound tightly.
“Ugh… not good…”
With both Nephthys and her tyrannosaur restrained, the vines began burrowing through the dinosaur’s ice armor. Barbed thorns pierced its body, and then ignited from within.
The tyrannosaur wailed in agony, writhing helplessly. From the inside out, it was quickly turning to ash.
With the ice-armored tyrannosaur lost, Nephthys could no longer stand against the fusion giant. She only bore two Crimson-rank souls, while ihag had forcibly overloaded himself with a horde of spirits. The battle between Soul Rebirth Coffins was one of both quality and quantity of souls.
Wrapped tightly in thick vines, Nephthys found herself further frozen in place as layers of ice condensed on her bonds. From within the shadow of the frost-covered helt, the Soul-Fused Chira Giant opened its enormous, tooth-filled maw. Burning flas churned in its throat.
Faced with the increasingly blinding radiance, Nephthys instinctively swallowed.
…
anwhile, within the ritual site inside the barrier.
The vast spirit-summoning ritual proceeded in an orderly fashion, following its designated steps. On the eastern side of the ceremonial grounds, Uta was still participating in the chant sequence while simultaneously completing his secret discussion with Dorothy.
“So you're saying… this could really work?”
With a furrowed brow, Uta questioned Dorothy, who, appearing as Scholar, nodded and responded through the information channel.
“As long as you can do as you said, briefly hijack the ritual to create a large-scale disruption… then absolutely, it’ll work. Trust … This is the only viable thod we have right now.”
Dorothy spoke with confidence. After hearing her words, Uta silently nodded. Realizing that he truly had no other option but to believe in Dorothy, he began acting according to her previous instructions.
Temporarily cutting off contact with Dorothy, Uta turned his full focus back to the ritual. Closing his eyes in silence, he carefully imrsed his consciousness into the structure of the ongoing ritual.
At that mont, Uta’s spirit delved into the inner workings of the ritual. He could see the exact position of every participant—from the peripheral shamans to the True Spirit Shaman at the core, and the four Great Shamans at the secondary focal points. Each of them, ard with specialized knowledge, ford integral parts of the ritual. Although they appeared to simply lead chants on the surface, their souls were deeply connected to the ritual, engaged in complex spiritual operations.
Ordinarily, the deep-level manipulation of such a ritual required profound soulcraft knowledge—sothing only the True Spirit Shaman and the Great Shamans would possess. But among the five currently conducting the ceremony, there was in fact a sixth who had this knowledge: Uta, who had co within a single step of becoming a Great Shaman decades ago.
Uta’s soul had already undergone all but the final trial of Great Shaman ascension. Its very nature was nearly equivalent to that of a Great Shaman. His academic grasp of the rite was firmly on their level. Thus, without anyone noticing, he began covertly impersonating a Great Shaman and infiltrating the deeper systems of the ritual—like a hacker breaching sacred code.
His first attempt succeeded. The ritual itself misidentified him as a Great Shaman, allowing his soul to access its deeper layers. He now had the ability to create large-scale disturbances, but not enough to destroy the ritual outright. The core structures of the ritual, which determined success or failure, were still maintained by the True Spirit Shaman, and Uta dared not touch those.
Even if he caused chaos, it would only be a matter of ti before he was detected and forcibly removed by the five leading shamans. That ant the nature of the disruption he created had to be extrely precise.
Sitting cross-legged, Uta cleared his throat and waited for the right mont. Soon, as another round of chanting concluded, the Eastern Great Shaman began a new cycle of invocations.
“Call… sing forth… the ancient land of the Nether… answer our plea…”
“Call… sing forth…”
The crowd of shamans followed the Eastern Shaman’s chant, then shifted into chaotic individual praises. It was now ti for the Western Great Shaman, possessed by Kudoshum, to guide the next sequence.
Just as Kudoshum, inside Pasadiko’s body, began to speak, Uta acted. Using his infiltration into the ritual, he montarily hijacked the role of the Western Great Shaman, beating Kudoshum to the lead chant.
“The soul of the current Radiance Church Cardinal, Inquisition Cardinal Saint Kramar, is incomplete. His half-soul remains trapped in the Nether and longs for freedom. Let all souls be made aware…”
“The soul of the current Radiance Church Cardinal, Saint Kramar…”
The mont Uta delivered this completely unrelated chant, the ritual’s inertia kicked in—and all the hundreds of shamans present echoed his words in unison. At that instant, the five ritual leads, including the True Spirit Shaman, froze—instantly sensing sothing was wrong.
Radiance Church Cardinal Saint Kramar? What does that have to do with this ritual?
The shamans who had just repeated Uta’s line began murmuring in confusion and turned toward the Western Great Shaman. Kudoshum frowned and, ahead of the other three Great Shamans, began investigating the source of the anomaly. The True Spirit Shaman, as the ritual’s ultimate overseer, imdiately located the root of the disturbance, Uta.
His gaze snapped to Uta, his face becoming stern and furious. He opened his mouth to speak.
“You—!”
But just as the True Spirit Shaman prepared to denounce and eject the intruder, a formless power blanketed the entire ritual field. A wave of confusion passed over the True Spirit Shaman’s eyes. That sa dazed look then spread to the three other Great Shamans, and eventually to all the other shamans present.
In that mont of bewildernt, the entire gathering mysteriously forgot what had just happened. They forgot Uta’s strange chant, forgot the anomaly, forgot everything—and their minds reset to the mont right after the Eastern Great Shaman had finished his chant.
And so, Uta once again led a new invocation.
“The soul of the current Radiance Church Cardinal, Inquisition Cardinal Saint Kramar, is incomplete. His half-soul remains trapped in the Nether…”
“The soul of the current Radiance Church Cardinal, Saint Kramar…”
Having forgotten they had already said these bizarre words, the shamans repeated them again—like broken recorders. Then, following the sa script, the True Spirit Shaman realized soone was sabotaging the ritual, prepared to eject Uta—and once again, the mysterious force descended. Everyone forgot what had happened yet again.
And so it looped.
Kramar’s half-soul, cursed by the Evil Spirit King, was a being erased from worldly mory. Anyone who learned of his existence outside of Dorothy’s direct influence would soon be affected by the Evil Spirit King’s divine power and forget him again. In this gathering, only Uta—linked to Dorothy—and Kudoshum, who belonged to the Nether Coffin Order, retained awareness of Kramar’s half-soul. All others forgot as soon as they heard it.
This was why Uta could keep disrupting the ritual yet never be expelled: the mont the True Spirit Shaman or others recognized the sabotage, they forgot. As long as Uta repeated his loop, it would go on endlessly.
And with it, the Great Wild Rite was now frozen, locked in a temporal loop most participants weren’t even conscious of.
“Damn it… soone’s sabotaging things!?”
Within Pasadiko’s body, Kudoshum grew anxious. He imdiately recognized that soone was interfering with his plan. He could pinpoint the saboteur's location with ease and crush them like an ant.
But he couldn’t.
If he acted, the True Spirit Shaman would imdiately notice. As a Great Shaman, there was no valid reason to suddenly attack a regular shaman during the rite. Divine curses couldn’t be cast at will—his intervention would not be forgotten the way Uta’s antics were.
Still, this couldn’t go on.
As long as Uta kept up this sabotage loop, the ritual would remain suspended—Suun the Divine Eagle would never be summoned. And that was the very goal Kudoshum had spent decades preparing for.
For Kudoshum, the top priority was ensuring the completion of the distorted ritual to summon Suun. But if this standoff continued and sothing went wrong…
He had no choice. He had to do whatever it took to get the ritual moving again.
As Uta kept looping his disruption, Kudoshum fell into bitter internal struggle—until finally, he made a decision.
“We’ll settle the score later…”
Muttering inwardly, Kudoshum closed his eyes and used a secret soul-channeling technique to contact his distant allies—other mbers of the Nether Coffin Order.
Then he spoke.
“Hurry… remove the curse on Kramar’s half-soul! Now!”
…
At the edge of the Ancestral Valley, on the battlefield of souls.
Nephthys, bound tightly by withered vines, stared unflinchingly at the fla gathering within the mouth of the Soul-Fused Chira Giant. At the very mont it was about to be unleashed—at the peak of danger—she murmured a short phrase.
“You… carry the bloodline of Addus, don’t you…
“In the na of the King of Addus… I command you… to die!”
The mont Nephthys uttered those words, the Chira Giant—ford from ihag’s transford body—suddenly erupted with countless wounds across its fra. Gushing blood poured out like waterfalls, and amidst a pained wail, the giant staggered and fell backward. The fla in its mouth dissipated, and the vines restraining Nephthys loosened.
Addus is a powerful nation with a population exceeding twenty million—an influential state in North Ufiga. For centuries, Addus maintained ongoing relations and intermarriage with other North Ufigan nations. Many people in the region, if they traced their ancestry back far enough, would find so connection to Addus.
When Rachman founded Addus, he signed a collective blood pact with his citizens—a covenant passed down by bloodline. Over generations, the pact’s effects diffused beyond the nation’s borders, influencing even so foreign North Ufigans. Many, knowingly or not, carry the bloodline of Addus—and the influence of that pact.
As a native North Ufigan, ihag—born of the treasure-thieves society—also carried a sliver of this ancestral bloodline, passed down from unknown ancestors generations ago. And now, that faint bloodline was being activated by Rachman, the founding king of Addus, channeling it through Nephthys' body.
“Damn it! Don’t underestimate !”
Though issued a death command, ihag’s Addus bloodline was too diluted to fall fully under Rachman’s power. Furthermore, his current body and soul were powerful enough to resist. The bloodline’s effect, while disruptive, wasn’t fatal. After staggering briefly, ihag’s giant body steadied, and with the Chalice-powered Gorilla soul enhancing his regeneration, his wounds healed rapidly—soon, he appeared unhard.
The bloodline command had freed Nephthys, but it was nowhere near enough to defeat the Soul-Fused Chira ihag had beco.
Regaining his stance, ihag readied himself for the final blow. The withered vine serpent, bear-jaw arm, burning fla, gorilla body, icy armor, and vulture wings—all were prid. ihag prepared to annihilate his opponent with overwhelming force.
But at that mont, Nephthys—now free—slid backward dozens of ters, then raised her hand high toward the sky. From the forest behind her, Kapak, the Tupa tribesman youth, ca sprinting forward under the glow of countless runes, shouting:
“Miss Thief, I’m here to help you!”
As he cried out, Kapak’s soul separated from his body, transforming into a blazing soul-fla that shot into Nephthys' hand. Without hesitation, she drew it into herself, then pressed her palm to the ground. At once, a massive Silence ritual array flared into existence beneath her.
“Spirit Summon…”
From the array, a brilliant golden light burst forth—so dazzling that even the charging Chira Giant recoiled. Within that radiance, a solemn figure slowly materialized—wearing dignified robes, a broad crown, and bearing an expression of scorn and authority devoid of fear.
The half-soul of Inquisition Cardinal Saint Kramar, one of the Seven Living Saints of the Radiance Church, head of the Inquisitor system—had returned to the world.
“Don’t think… you can pull any tricks!”
Enraged by the radiant apparition, the Soul-Fused Chira Giant launched its final assault. From the bear-jaw arm ca a storm of extre frost; from the vine-serpent mouth ca scorching fla. Wielding both frostfire and soulcraft, it struck at Nephthys.
But Nephthys, gaze calm and unfazed, raised her hand. Kramar’s spirit dissolved into golden soul-fla, which she drew into herself.
At that mont, the three souls already residing within Nephthys—Harald, Rachman, and Kapak—were forcibly expelled. Her dark ice armor vanished, replaced by a translucent and ethereal robe of regality. A cardinal’s sacred crown floated above her head. A heavy to of divine law opened before her. A spectral scepter manifested in her hand.
Bathed in a soft amber glow, Nephthys slowly opened her eyes—her pupils shimring with light. As she stared down the oncoming fla and frost, she raised her scepter and tapped it against the ground with quiet authority.
“Silence.”
Like a judge striking the gavel in court, the words resounded from the depths of her soul. A pure and sacred vibration rippled outward—banishing all sound. The howling frost and roaring flas vanished without a trace. The battlefield fell silent.
“What—”
Shock gripped ihag, Pasadiko, and Norris alike. They realized things were going very wrong, but it was already too late.
“Bring forth the accused. All unrelated parties, retreat.”
With a tone both cold and sacred, Nephthys’ pronouncent echoed across the space. As her words fell, the Chira Giant’s body began to unravel—wings snapping, vines unraveling, ice armor shattering…
As the titanic form shrank, nurous souls were ejected from within: the Gorilla, the Vulture, the Serpent, the Bear, and the Radiance Knight…
At last, the giant reverted to ihag’s original form, now kneeling, immobilized. Within his body, the souls of Pasadiko and Norris were sealed—struggling but unable to escape.
“You North Ufigan wretch! Let out! Get away now!”
“My body… it’s not responding… what is this power…”
“Reverse the spirit-summon—now! Or we’re finished!”
Three Crimson-rank souls quarreled and thrashed within a single body. Nephthys coldly ignored their chaos. She glanced at the open To of Divine Law, then solemnly declared.
“Cruel and wicked heretics… Murderers of the faithful, conspirators against mankind—your cris are manifold and beyond pardon. You are hereby sentenced to the Soulburn Execution. Imdiate enforcent!”
The mont her judgnt fell, an illusory fla of the soul ignited upon ihag’s body, engulfing him in an instant. He collapsed, his form consud in the spiritual blaze, screaming in agony.
Within that punishnt fla, the three Crimson-rank souls were burned without rcy. Their unified body howled and writhed—three distinct screams erupting from the sa mouth, gradually growing faint…
Eventually, as the fla died down, only ihag’s body remained—apparently unhard, yet now utterly motionless. An empty shell.
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