### Chapter 538: Consultation
In Dead Eagle Valley, within the chambers of the Rahmann Royal Tomb, Dorothy and Nephnis stood on the cold floor, utilizing the flickering lights around them to observe their dark surroundings. As they gazed at the walls of the main tomb room, which bore the confession written in dried bl**d, Nephnis couldn’t help but widen her eyes and murmur.
“This… these bl**d letters aren’t the original carvings in the tomb, are they farewell letters? Are they the farewell letters left by these bones? They are… they are the ancients of the Baruch Dynasty?”
After a moment of straining to decipher the bl**d letters on the tomb walls, Nephnis spoke in astonishment. Dorothy, standing beside her, nodded silently and then began to speak slowly.
“Well… judging from the content written here, these bones should belong to the so-called six priests of Baruch Palace. They were crucial figures in the Baruch King’s Refinement Ritual, conducting the sacrificial ceremonies to open the Rahmann Royal Tomb and selecting each Baruch King among them…”
Glancing at the bones on the floor, Dorothy analyzed, knowing well from her reading of the Royal Sacrificial Book that every king in Baruch’s tradition must undergo the Refinement Ritual to inherit the throne. According to legend, the heir receiving the trial would have to face the spirit of the first king, Rahmann, within the Rahmann Royal Tomb, as he would test whether the successor was worthy of the kingship. Originally, Dorothy thought the content in the Royal Sacrificial Book about the heir facing the first king’s spirit was merely a legend, but now it seemed the situation was more complicated.
“In the late Baruch Dynasty, corruption ran rampant, with internal strife and external threats, leading to revolutions that ultimately caused its downfall… The Baruch royal family then fell into a state like that of Ma Aide and Mazale. I assume this so-called facing the first king’s Refinement Ritual was merely a formality, where the heir comes to the tomb to pay respects. Now it seems that Rahmann’s spirit is indeed seriously and rigorously selecting the king. So strict was he that the sixth generation of kings even saw over eighty candidates deemed unqualified, resulting in a succession crisis for Baruch, forcing these palace priests to resort to some blasphemous rituals…”
“The exact contents of this ritual remain unknown, but we know that most of these six priests perished in this chamber. It seems that the Refinement Ritual continued after this blasphemy, allowing the Baruch Dynasty to persist until its eventual demise. Based on its late performance, whether the last few generations of Baruch kings truly came from this Rahmann is a question mark.”
As Dorothy paced within the tomb, she pondered these thoughts. Meanwhile, Nephnis curiously looked around the tomb, and after observing for a while, she turned back to Dorothy and spoke.
“Miss Dorothy, from the bl**d letters here, it seems that King Rahmann was quite a decent king, right? He selected over eighty candidates and still didn’t choose… This indicates he likely had a strong sense of responsibility. Should we open this coffin and summon his spirit to ask him? Maybe he could help us deal with that old man Kapak outside.”
Nephnis suggested to Dorothy, and hearing her words stirred something in Dorothy. She knew that merely hiding from the formidable foes in this chamber was a temporary strategy; they couldn’t hide forever. According to the accounts in the Royal Sacrificial Book, once the time for the king’s Refinement arrived, the door to the chamber would open on its own. The at least Red Tier zombie puppet shamans were definitely waiting outside for them, so they needed to establish an appropriate counter-strategy before that time, or it would be the end.
Nephnis’s suggestion was indeed a feasible approach. Rahmann was a Red Tier undead, and based on the confession on the wall and folk tales from Adus, he had been a wise ruler, capable of good communication. As long as they explained that the undead outside wanted to capture him like catching Pokémon, and provided Rahmann’s spirit remained normal and rational, he would likely agree to cooperate.
However, that premise relied on Rahmann being normal and rational… Dorothy thought that perhaps Rahmann’s spirit had been normal before, but after the sixth generation Refinement Ritual, things might have changed. Who knows what impact the blasphemous ritual had on Rahmann’s soul and whether he was still the wise king’s spirit.
Previously, Dorothy had eavesdropped on a conversation between Moen and Shahab, and during that discussion, Moen was particularly sensitive about “not awakening Rahmann’s undead in a normal manner.” He adamantly opposed Shahab’s direct approach of stacking explosives to blow open the chamber, worrying that Rahmann’s spirit would awaken abnormally and endanger everyone. Moen was a former undead puppet master; he likely knew something unusual about Rahmann’s spirit to be so distressed. Now, Moen’s concerns became Dorothy’s own, as she feared that awakening Rahmann’s spirit was akin to awakening another enemy.
After considering Nephnis’s suggestion, Dorothy contemplated for a moment before responding.
“Awakening Rahmann’s spirit… that indeed is one way… but for safety’s sake, I need to confirm first.”
Saying that, Dorothy took out a simple coin. After uttering a short divination phrase, she tossed it.
“Is there a risk in awakening Rahmann’s undead now?”
The coin fell from mid-air, and Dorothy accurately caught it on the back of her hand. Ever since Ma Aide and Robert perished together, Faraluo had revoked the divination protection over the Baruch royal family. The anti-divination array set in Adis had already been occupied by the Revolutionary Army, and the resources to reverse the divination had been divided among the royal relatives. Now, they had no protection for their ancestral tomb.
Dorothy slowly moved her hand away from the back of her hand, both she and Nephnis gazed at the coin, which showed heads, confirming the risk of awakening.
“This… is there really a danger? King Rahmann… shouldn’t he have been a wise ruler in Adus’s history?” Nephnis expressed her surprise as she looked at the coin on Dorothy’s hand, while Dorothy, bearing some regret, put the coin away and spoke.
“He was a wise ruler, but that was hundreds of years ago. He’s been dead for so long and has now undergone this ritual; who knows what he has become? In short, we cannot rely on him for hope.”
Dorothy stated, and after saying this, she retracted the coin and slowly approached the stone coffin, closely examining the intricate magical array surrounding it. After thoroughly noting down the details, she sat cross-legged to the side and took out her “Navigation of the Literary Sea” from the magic box. Once it was unfolded and placed on her lap, she flipped to a page and began to write, but after writing a couple of strokes, Dorothy noticed something was off; the ink was not sinking into the pages as it should. Seeing this scene, she furrowed her brow.
‘What’s going on? Why is the “Navigation of the Literary Sea” unresponsive?’
Faced with this situation, Dorothy pondered in confusion and then began to check what the issue with the “Navigation of the Literary Sea” was. After a thorough examination, she finally confirmed the source of the problem.
Dorothy found that not only could she not use the “Navigation of the Literary Sea”, but even her ability to sense the undead puppets outside the chamber had been rendered useless. Her informational transmission-type extraordinary ability had been blocked by the tomb made of Underworld Cold Stone, isolating her from the outside world. She could neither use the “Navigation of the Literary Sea” to relay information nor manipulate the undead puppets outside the tomb; the interior of this tomb seemed isolated, formed into another world through its Underworld Cold Stone walls.
‘Extraordinary Isolation… I didn’t expect this material called Underworld Cold Stone to have such an effect. No wonder even the undead puppeteers find it so difficult to breach this Rahmann’s chamber; it’s not only hard but also possesses such a strong isolation effect. I wonder what kind of craftsmanship is required to create such a thing. If one could get a block to sell, it would certainly fetch a good price.’
Having understood why the “Navigation of the Literary Sea” had failed, Dorothy mulled over it but didn’t panic. After putting the “Navigation of the Literary Sea” away, she quietly closed her eyes and finally began to pray inwardly.
‘Great Akka, please convey my message to Sister Vania. I wish to communicate with her in real-time.’
After completing her prayer in her mind, Dorothy transmitted the prayer’s content through the information channel to Vania. It wasn’t long before she heard Vania’s voice.
‘Hey… is this Miss Dorothy? What’s the matter?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing, I mistakenly prayed to the wrong person, my apologies…’
‘Ah, is such a holy prayer communication… possible to contact the wrong person?’
‘Yes, yes, I’ve been a bit distracted lately from staying up late and mixed up names. Anyway, I still haven’t finished my business here in Adus, so I’ll hang up for now. Take care of yourself over there in Kankdar.’
‘Oh… got it, thank you for your concern, Miss Dorothy…’
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Dorothy nodded in satisfaction after ending the communication with Vania. She had now confirmed that although the Underworld Cold Stone could isolate extraordinary effects, it couldn’t block the information channel from the system. Compared to the extraordinary effects of the “Navigation of the Literary Sea”, this should be a higher-tier communication method.
Having confirmed that the information channel was still functioning normally, Dorothy sighed in relief, then closed her eyes again to connect with another information channel participant.
‘Great Akka, please convey to Kapak and let him inquire of Uta the shaman about some questions…’
…
In the New World, amidst the wilderness near the eastern coastline lay the Tupa tribe’s settlement.
In the bustling Tupa tribe settlement, countless brown-skinned natives scurried between various tents along the pathways. The vast encampment was bustling with activity, as numerous natives set up stalls and engaged in trade at the edges of the camp. Compared to earlier times, the Tupa tribe’s camp was several times more lively, and from the attire of the natives gathered here, most of them belonged to tribes beyond the Tupa tribe.
With Dorothy repeatedly leveraging Uta the shaman’s channeling powers, the entire Tupa tribe gradually began to reap the benefits of trading with her. When various goods, worth thousands of pounds from Tivyán, began to arrive in Tupa, the entire tribe became jubilant. An abundant supply of food, medicines, weapons, and industrial goods from the industrial world was warmly welcomed by all Tupa tribe members, significantly improving their living conditions.
Disinfectants, antibiotics, and bandages saved many tribespeople’s lives, and a surplus of ammunition enabled the tribe to arm more warriors to defend their homeland. Although the canned foods could only be tasted by the tribe members, the well-selected crop seeds guaranteed that the tribe would have more grain in the coming years, while the odd industrial goods entertained the tribespeople.
News of the Tupa tribe obtaining a large quantity of white people’s goods spread rapidly among the surrounding tribes. Many other tribes came seeking exchanges, leading to a surge of outsiders gathering at the Tupa tribe camp. These merchants, arriving with their respective specialties, saw the large crowd and decided to set up stalls for trading and commerce directly on Tupa’s territory, quickly making Tupa the trading center for numerous nearby tribes, significantly boosting the tribe’s prosperity and expanding its influence.
In one part of the Tupa camp, on a particular patch of crowded grounds, a large pile of iron parts lay there. Among these parts were various cans, gears, wheels, and iron pipes… A group of Tupa tribespeople surrounded this pile of components, buzzing with guesses about what it could be used for.
Beside the pile, young Tupa tribesman Kapak sat on the grass frowning as he struggled with an instruction manual that was filled with diagrams and entirely in Prit words. He recognized all the words and phrases in the assembly instructions, but combining them together left him puzzled. After staring at it for a long time, he still couldn’t grasp how the machine should be assembled.
“Ugh… just assembling a steam engine is so difficult. The person who invented this machine must have been incredibly wise…”
As he contemplated the assembly manual in hand, Kapak scratched his head and muttered. Just then, a voice rang in his mind, prompting him to freeze slightly.
“Hey, Kapak, if you figure it out, let us know quickly. We’re waiting to lend a hand.” At that moment, a tall man beside Kapak spoke. Kapak stood up, scratching his head, and apologetically responded.
“Uh… Sorry, I still haven’t figured it out. I probably need to take it back and study it overnight; I won’t be able to finish today. Please everyone, pack things up and head back.”
With an apologetic farewell to the crowd, Kapak quickly left the scene, heading deeper into the camp toward the central hill.
Before long, Kapak arrived at the entrance of the shaman’s grand tent atop the hill. After pausing for a moment, he lifted the curtain and entered. Inside the tent, he found the old shaman Uta smoking on a carpet. Once Kapak entered, Uta spoke without turning his head.
“You’ve come…”
“Ah, yes, Teacher Uta, I have some questions I’d like to ask you…” Kapak said respectfully. Uta then turned his head and smiled gently at Kapak.
“Your questions… heh, I reckon pertain to that servant of Akka… perhaps the scholar or thief?”
“Uh, Teacher Uta… how did you know that…” Kapak expressed surprise at Uta’s words, while Uta waved his smoking pipe, and a small cunning lynx spirit flew out of a corner of the tent. It hovered mid-air, furiously flailing its soul whiskers, looking like it had just undergone something very infuriating.
“The experience of that thief lady has already been conveyed to me by the soul whiskers. I hadn’t expected to encounter such a significant figure from the Witch Spirit Cult in this continent, further away than the Eastern Continent…”
“The Witch Spirit Cult?”
“It is an organization comprised of fallen shamans who abandoned the path of the Great Soul. They are the shame of all shamans on this land. They trample on ancient teachings, using shamanic powers to desecrate souls, surrendering themselves to powerful defilers and colluding with them, willingly becoming degenerate…”
“Defilers…”
“That’s what shamans call them; on the Eastern Continent, they are likely referred to as the Underworld Coffin Cult…”
……
Ugh… Before I knew it, it was dawn again. I feel like I’m at my limit, and the drafting remains a habit.
Looking at this month, while the total word count reached full attendance, I fell short by a day, so I will take a break at the end of the month for some brief adjustments. Thus, there will be no update tomorrow. Please forgive me.
