Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Inside the sepulcher of Rachman's Mausoleum, Dead Eagle Valley.

In the narrow, dim, and cold chamber, Dorothy, dressed in robes, sat cross-legged in a corner. Having just completed her remote consultation through the communication channel, she slowly opened her eyes. From Kapak and Uta on the New Continent, she had acquired crucial information regarding Soul Shamans.

"The Shamanic Path, the Soul-Guiding Path... So that's it. This is the fundamental form of a Silence Beyonder on the New Continent…"

As she opened her eyes, Dorothy stroked her chin thoughtfully. According to Uta, the path followed by the native shamans of the New Continent for generations—also known as the Soul-Guiding Path—was a mystical branch aimed at communicating with, calming, guiding, and laying souls to rest.

Beyonders of the Soul-Guiding Path were beacons for the dead. Compared to other Silence Beyonders, they had stronger attraction and control over spirits. They could easily soothe agitated wraiths and command large numbers of spirits. While ordinary Silence Beyonders could only slowly summon spirits, these practitioners could commune far more efficiently. They had a natural affinity for wild spirits and similar entities, and their soul-speech was far stronger—allowing effortless communication with various spirit forms. As soul-guiding emissaries, they clearly surpassed other Silence branches in terms of controlling spirits.

Most Soul-Guiding Path Beyonders were shamans from the native tribes of the New Continent. These shamans led tribe after tribe, passing down their teachings through master-disciple traditions. All of them formed a loosely affiliated alliance—far looser than even the White Craftsmen's Guild. So loose, in fact, that even among themselves, the shamans had no official name for it. Only mysticism scholars who studied New Continent natives had given it the name "Shamanic Spirit Sect."

Though the shamans within this alliance varied in status, unless they belonged to the same tribe, they had no authority over each other—only mutual respect. There was no formal hierarchy. Senior shamans had no right to command juniors by force. The only authoritative body was a recurring gathering called the "Wild Rite." Shamans from various regions would meet periodically to hold ceremonies, make offerings to local wild spirits, and jointly discuss matters affecting their regions' development and survival. This Wild Rite typically occurred once every five years. A rarer form, the "Great Wild Rite," brought together elected shaman representatives from across the New Continent and happened only once every century—proof of how unorganized the Shamanic Spirit Sect truly was.

Despite this extreme looseness, the Shamanic Spirit Sect faithfully adhered to a single ancient commandment known as the Way of the Spirit Road. It was said to be a teaching handed down by the Great Soul. This ancient law governed the usage of shamanic powers and shaped the Spirit Sect's traditions and taboos.

According to this doctrine, all souls were part of the Great Soul, and therefore all souls were sacred. Except for wild spirits and their elite soul-essences, the souls of the dead were to return to the Netherworld, back to the Great Soul. Even wild spirits and soul-essences, when weary of their duties or seeking peace, were meant to heed the Great Soul's call and pass on. The most worthy of the soul-essences would then inherit the role of wild spirit.

One could say the Shamanic Spirit Sect revered the peace and burial of souls. Undead and immortals were abominations in their eyes—violations of the normal soul cycle, and thus should be laid to rest. Those who deliberately captured or created undead for power were considered evil and to be eradicated.

By this logic, most other Silence Beyonders on the main continent were deemed evil—especially the Nether Coffin Order. Not only did they enslave and control spirits, creating undead, but they also refined and extracted spirituality from souls. In the eyes of the Shamanic Spirit Sect, such actions were unforgivable. Thus, the Nether Coffin Order was branded as "Desecrators." In recent years, as colonization of the New Continent by main-continent nations intensified, the Nether Coffin Order's plundering of its rich soul resources became more aggressive—provoking widespread hostility from the shamans. The Shamanic Spirit Sect resisted the Nether Coffin Order, but they were also deeply affected by it.

Due to their lack of organization, the Shamanic Spirit Sect had no effective countermeasures. Over the last few decades, many shamans—under the Nether Coffin Order's influence—abandoned the ancient law and embraced the idea of exploiting souls to their fullest.

These heretics saw themselves as soul sovereigns. Using their power to easily enslave spirits, they created undead and even devoured spirits outright through soul affinity. No longer reverent, they no longer formed reciprocal bonds with wild spirits—they simply enslaved them. Even soul-essences in the wild became mere cultivation resources. Their actions fundamentally betrayed traditional Shamanic doctrine, and so they split off, calling themselves the Soul Desecration Cult. In essence, the Soul Desecration Cult had become a subordinate faction of the Nether Coffin Order.

The ranks of Soul-Guiding Path Beyonders were simple in the Shamanic Spirit Sect: Shaman Disciple, Shaman, and Great Shaman—corresponding to Black Earth through Crimson. In the main continent's mysticism world, they were known as Spirit Soothers, Spirit Summoners, and Spirit Masters. Kapak had recently completed the ritual to become a Shaman Disciple; Uta was a Shaman; and the one currently blocking Dorothy's group was clearly a Great Shaman.

Great Shamans possessed immense control over spirits. They could banish enemy spirits, summon wild spirits or special entities instantly without setting up rituals, empower controlled spirits with their own spirituality, and grow stronger the more powerful spirits they commanded. If Body Possession-path Beyonders empowered themselves through spirits, then Soul-Guiding Path Beyonders empowered their spirits through themselves. Their combat style was more like that of a summoner… In Dorothy's eyes, most Silence Beyonders were kind of like Pokémon trainers.

Sitting against the wall, Dorothy reviewed the intelligence she'd obtained from Kapak, contemplating strategies against the Great Shaman outside. The more she thought about it, the more difficult it seemed.

"The Great Shaman commands two wild spirits with both physical and spiritual suppression. The sand lizard not only has powerful attacks and terrain control—it also shields the shaman from physical harm. As of now, the only things I have that could threaten the shaman himself are the third stage Unrelenting Force and the railgun. But Unrelenting Force risks collapsing the entire mausoleum. As for the railgun—while it can pierce the sand lizard, I don't know where the shaman's true body resides inside it. His body is the lizard's weak point. If I can't hit that, piercing the lizard is pointless.

"Worse still, he has another wild spirit that can emit wide-range soul suppression. The moment it screeches, it's undodgeable. Once our souls are stunned, they'll be drawn in and devoured. We've stayed in this sepulcher too long. That spirit-chicken is definitely ready to cry the moment we step out… there's no avoiding it."

Rubbing her chin, Dorothy fell into grim silence. Not far away, Nephthys watched her worriedly, unsure whether Dorothy could find a viable countermeasure.

In her silence, Dorothy turned her head, scanning the environment for inspiration. When her gaze landed on the anxious Nephthys, a spark of inspiration hit. A bold—but highly dangerous—plan formed in her mind.

"Hiss… this might actually work… but the risk might be too great. No, I need to consult again…"

With that, Dorothy closed her eyes and began a new round of consultation. She reached out to both Uta and Sadroya, senior Silence Beyonders, and received the confirmation she needed. When she opened her eyes again, a playful smile tugged at her lips. She cast a strange look toward Nephthys. After being stared at for a while, Nephthys shivered slightly.

"Um… Miss Dorothy, did you come up with a plan?"

Seeing Dorothy eyeing her like that, Nephthys asked cautiously. Dorothy nodded and replied.

"Mm… I've got a rough idea now. As long as you work with me properly, we should be able to land a heavy blow on that guy."

"Ah… there's a way? Then count me in—I'll do my best! What's the plan, Miss Dorothy?" Nephthys asked excitedly.

Dorothy answered.

"I'll explain it in a bit. First, I need to confirm a few things and make some early preparations."

As she spoke, Dorothy closed her eyes again and began silently praying.

"O great Aka… I wish to consult Mr. Gregor. Where is he now? Is he available? If he's still in Tivian and has time, I'd like to speak with him in real time."

…

Rachman Royal Mausoleum, outside the Sepulcher.

Beyond the sepulcher, behind the altar at the foot of the long stone stairs, Chabakunka was seated in quiet meditation, eyes closed, guarded by the two wild spirits flanking him.

No one knew how long he had kept his eyes shut, but eventually, Chabakunka opened them and gazed at the row of bronze lamps on the altar. Of the six once-burning lamps, only one remained lit. The lone flickering flame trembled in the air, on the verge of being extinguished. Chabakunka slowly rose to his feet and looked toward the towering black stone door ahead of the stairs.

"The time has come…"

He murmured softly. The lizard-like wild spirit beside him stretched out and roared silently. In response, the sand that had accumulated all over the mausoleum began to stir. Under the command of an unseen force, the sand floated up and rushed toward Chabakunka, quickly enveloping his body. As more sand gathered, his form grew larger and began to change. Soon, a giant sand lizard more than ten meters long appeared in the mausoleum. Chabakunka and his spirit were now encased within a thick layer of sand, its hollow eyes silently fixed on the sealed stone door.

As time passed, the last of the six bronze lamps flickered out. The stone door slowly began to open. Just as a narrow gap appeared, a blur shot through it. Chabakunka focused his gaze and recognized it immediately as the flying carpet-type mystical item he had seen before.

"Trying to escape?"

Seeing the carpet speeding out, Chabakunka instantly directed the sand lizard to manipulate the surrounding sand. Enormous sand serpents rose from the floor and lunged at the flying carpet. In response, small cylindrical objects shot out from the carpet—sticks of dynamite bound with iron plates.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!

Explosions erupted around the carpet, tearing apart the attacking sand serpents one by one. The flying carpet dashed through the swirling sandstorm, heading straight for the exit. It was almost there.

"Soulcall... Cry…"

Faced with a fleeing enemy, Chabakunka issued a calm command to his wild spirit. The chicken-like wild spirit beside him opened its beak and let out a soul-piercing cry. The sharp cry reverberated throughout the mausoleum. The passengers on the flying carpet, affected by the scream, began to sway and slowly descended, crashing onto the sand-covered ground.

As the shriek ended and the carpet lay fallen in the distance, a faint smile appeared on Chabakunka's lips. Then, in soul-speech, he called out.

"I am the Beacon, your Beacon—the Soul's Beacon. Spirits, come to me…"

As his words echoed out, a seductive female spirit slowly rose from the spot where the carpet had crashed and floated toward him. Mid-flight, she transformed into a ghostly green soul flame. When she reached Chabakunka, he opened his mouth and swallowed the soul fire whole.

After devouring a spirit that had entangled with him for some time, Chabakunka felt satisfied, but also slightly puzzled. He remembered two enemies, yet only one soul had floated over. Where was the other?

Just as confusion began to creep in, inside the mausoleum sepulcher, Dorothy crouched in a corner formed by three slabs of Netherfrost Stone, clutching her head and suppressing her disoriented consciousness. The soul cry from Chabakunka had been mostly absorbed by the Netherfrost Stone walls around her, protecting her spirit from full suppression.

Dorothy had not boarded the flying carpet. The one who left was only Nephthys. It was Nephthys's soul that had been stunned and devoured. Dorothy would not let that go unanswered.

"Mr. Hunter… it's time!"

Using the information channel, Dorothy transmitted her message across great distance to Pritt.

…

Tivian, Capital of Pritt.

In the basement of a recently acquired mansion secretly bought by the Boyle family, within a secluded underground chamber, a golden scepter shaped like a flying bird stood upright. Beneath it lay a ritual circle freshly inscribed with the runes of Revelation and Lantern. Two figures were present: the stern-faced Boyle family steward, Nust, and the young hunter, Gregor, seated in front of the formation with focused eyes.

Upon hearing Dorothy's voice in his mind, Gregor immediately activated the ritual circle. He consumed three spiritual storage items of the Lantern type and used the Revelation spirituality sealed within the golden scepter, performing multiple divinations in one go. As the circle activated, the golden glow of the scepter began to dim.

…

Back in the mausoleum, still wondering about the missing soul, Chabakunka slowly turned the giant sand lizard toward the still-open sepulcher door. Just as he prepared to enter, a sudden shift in the environment occurred.

Whispers—countless, hushed whispers—began to echo throughout the mausoleum, appearing from nowhere and spreading rapidly. Chabakunka suddenly felt as though voices were murmuring in every corner of the mausoleum, conspiring in hushed tones—yet when he looked around, nothing could be seen.

What was this? What was happening?

The confusion thickened in his heart, accompanied by an ominous sense of dread. Unnoticed until now, the dim mausoleum darkened further. A cold, bone-chilling air filled the space. An inexplicable fear rose in Chabakunka's heart. His instincts screamed that something was coming.

"Who is it?! Who's there?!"

Chabakunka furrowed his brow and called out in soul-speech to his surroundings—but what answered him was something strange.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Amid eerie, repetitive snapping sounds, one after another, pitch-black handprints began to materialize on the mausoleum's walls and pillars. They multiplied, spreading as if about to engulf the entire space. Alongside these ghostly markings, a chilling, raspy voice broke through the silence.

"Heh… heh… heh… heheheh… Boyle… Boyle… I never expected you'd dare set foot on this land again…"

As the laughter echoed, a gaunt, mummified face—nearly as large as the giant sand lizard—suddenly appeared in midair. Green soul flames burned in its eye sockets as it locked eyes with the lizard—locked eyes with Chabakunka inside it.

"Ha! We meet again, little Boyle! Don't think any barrier can protect you! On this land, there's nowhere you can run! No matter what you're hiding in—it's useless! Now… pay the price!"