Chapter 10: Spirituality

Chapter 10: Spirituality

Back during the skirmish in the forest, Dorothy had taken advantage of the chaos. The Hunter squad had just ambushed the envoy of that mysterious organization, and amidst the confusion, she quietly directed her corpse puppet—the black hound—to snatch away the suitcase marked as the “reward.”

Everything had gone smoothly… until it didn’t.

Just as the hound gripped the suitcase in its jaws and turned to flee, the leader of the Hunter squad suddenly noticed. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled a short sword. It struck true—embedding itself into the black hound and sending the corpse puppet tumbling to the ground.

Dorothy thought her stealthy operation was a bust. But then, something unexpected happened.

The leader of the mysterious organization—tough as nails and not yet dead—suddenly launched a desperate counterattack, catching the Hunter squad captain off guard. In the struggle, the captain’s mask was knocked off.

Dorothy, watching through the black hound’s puppet eyes from the underbrush, saw it all.

And the face beneath that mask… was one she knew all too well.

Or rather, someone the original Dorothy had once known—very well.

It was her brother. Her real, biological brother who had left for the city years ago.

Though he had matured and grown taller, Dorothy recognized him instantly from memory. There was no mistaking it.

Gregor. Her big brother.

She was stunned to discover that her brother had joined something called the Serenity Bureau—and had even become the captain of a squad?! That’s what he meant in his letters when he said he was “doing well” in the city?

“Hah… I guess that technically counts as working within the system. Auntie Hannah would be thrilled if she knew,” Dorothy muttered to herself, half amused and half exasperated.

In her memories, Gregor had been a wild one—always getting into fights and stirring up trouble. He was nothing like the gentle, obedient, and quietly clever Dorothy. Back in the day, he’d been a constant headache for Auntie Hannah.

Sure, Gregor had always been a good fighter, feared even among the village boys, but he was never one for books. Reading had been a struggle for him. Everyone thought he’d end up working in a factory, and if he was lucky, maybe become a foreman someday.

Who would’ve thought he’d land a government job? And not just any job, but one with actual authority?

“I guess his kind of ‘civil servant’ work is mostly fighting anyway… it really suits him,” Dorothy sighed with a faint smile.

Shaking off the thoughts of her brother, she turned her focus back to the wooden suitcase she had retrieved. This was the important thing right now.

“Let’s see what kind of ‘generous reward’ they were bragging about…”

She hoisted the case and disappeared into the night.

. . . . . . .

Later that night, back in the town of Vulcan…

Dorothy returned to her inn, carrying her prize from the battlefield. She slipped into her room and locked the door behind her. Sitting at the small desk, she placed the suitcase on the table.

She had already asked her corpse puppet to open it once earlier—just in case there were any nasty surprises inside—but now it was time to actually inspect the contents.

The suitcase wasn’t very big, and it didn’t hold much. Inside, she found a folder filled with documents, a thin booklet, and a rectangular wooden case

She eyed the contents carefully and reached for the folder first. Opening it, she quickly skimmed through.

Nothing unusual.

It contained a brush, ink, and blank paper for writing. There was also a map of Igwynt County—one of the administrative divisions of the Pritt Kingdom, roughly equivalent to a province. It was the very region Dorothy was in now.

There were also a few letters. Old correspondence written by Edrick—the man who had offered them this “job.” Most of it was meaningless drivel. But what caught Dorothy’s eye was something else.

Her own photographs.

She had mailed those photos out herself—and now she had them back.

“Well, at least that’s one less thing to worry about…” she thought, feeling relieved. If those pictures had ended up in the hands of her brother, it would've been a real mess.

Having finished with the folder, she turned her attention to the booklet. It was slim, with a dark red cover. On the front was an embossed, barely visible mark—a simple cup.

It was faint, almost too worn to recognize, but it was clearly intentional.

After casting a thoughtful glance at the slim booklet, Dorothy finally picked it up.

But the very moment her fingers touched its cover, her brow furrowed slightly.

A strange sensation washed over her.

The booklet looked ordinary—faded cover, worn edges—but in her hands, it felt alive. There was something… unusual about it. As though a hidden pulse lingered just beneath the surface. It was subtle, but undeniable.

Dorothy hesitated for only a breath. Then, with quiet resolve, she flipped open the cover.

The first page was a preface—a message, clearly written for someone else.

Someone named Edrick.

. . . . . . . .

We are pleased that you passed the test, Mr. Edrick.

Your contributions to the society will not be forgotten.

As promised, we now bestow upon you the reward you have earned.

This booklet, though seemingly simple, contains precious knowledge—rare insights from the realm of beyond. It is not something the common people can even begin to fathom. Treat it with the respect it deserves.

Through this text, you shall take your first step into the beyond.

First, you must understand the origin of the beyond. Its source is spirituality.

Spirituality is the wellspring from which all beyond power flows.

You may ask: Where is spirituality?

The answer is: Everywhere.

It exists in all things—in the air, the ground, the stars above, even within yourself.

The only difference lies in its amount. Some have more, others less. Some are rich in it, others barren.

Next, you must know: Spirituality has attributes.

Different types of spirituality give rise to different beyond paths.

To become beyond is to gather a specific kind of spirituality within your being and let it elevate your life.

There are six primary attributes of spirituality. Each has its own unique nature and symbolic meaning. What follows is only a brief introduction—these concepts are profound beyond measure. Even we do not fully comprehend them all.

. . . . . . .

Dorothy’s eyes narrowed as she read on.

. . . . . . .

The First:

Disgusting thing… known as the “Lantern”. Or “Light”, or “Staff”—call it what you will.

It represents the masculine, ascent, order, guidance.

It is the symbol of progress and control.

The Second:

That bothersome “Shadow”. Sometimes called “Moth”, or “Sword”.

It is the opposite of the first. It embodies the feminine, descent, chaos, secrecy.

The Third:

The dull and lifeless “Stone”—or perhaps “Coin”, as some call it.

This attribute belongs to the inanimate. Earth, water, minerals—soulless, heavy, material.

The most boring of all… yet foundational.

The Fourth:

The glorious “Chalice”!

The spirituality of blood, flesh, and desire!

It symbolizes vitality, passion, and the pursuit of the senses!

Truly the greatest of all spiritualities!

It is under this attribute that you shall tread your path, Edrick!

Praise the Blood Chalice!

Let us embrace life’s instinct under its divine radiance!

At that point, the preface devolved into a long-winded chant—paragraph after paragraph of devotional praise.

. . . . . . .

Dorothy promptly skipped ahead.

. . . . . . .

The Fifth:

The dangerous one.

Commonly referred to as “Silence.”

The spirituality of death, eternal sleep, decay, and ruin.

Beware this one always. It is deeply tied to the soul and carries risks beyond imagining.

And the Sixth…

Honestly, we hesitated to include this, as so few ever walk this path.

You may never meet even one person in your entire life who carries this attribute.

Yet for the sake of completeness, we must speak of it.

The final spirituality is called “Revelation.”

A rare attribute linked again to the soul.

It symbolizes insight, awakening, profound knowledge, and spiritual clarity.

Few know of it. Fewer understand it. But it exists.

And in it lies the key to truths beyond mortal comprehension…