Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 422

**Chapter 422: Report**

The sky overhead was cloudless, and the sea stretched endlessly, reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling, ever-moving shimmer. Seabirds wheeled and cried overhead, riding the breeze that skimmed across the rolling waves.

A sleek white passenger ship made its slow but steady journey across the ocean, carving a long trail through the glittering surface.

This vessel had recently departed from Nawah. Inside a private first-class cabin, Dorothy sat alone, shifting her gaze between the neat interior and the endless horizon framed by the porthole.

‘This will do… It lacks the lavishness of the Flashing White Pearl’s grand suites, but it’s clean and private. I can manage this.’

Dorothy, settled by the fixed chair next to the porthole, quietly evaluated her surroundings. Though this cabin was far more modest than the extravagant accommodations she had once enjoyed on luxury liners, it was still the best this ship had to offer. The lower levels were overcrowded—rooms jammed with bunk beds or sprawling dormitories packed beyond comfort. Having a private space to herself was no small mercy.

‘Still, I do miss the refined comfort of the Flashing White Pearl… That vessel was a dream—aside from the cultists crawling all over it. I did, after all, send that ship to the depths myself.’

A faint sigh of longing passed through her thoughts as she recalled that pinnacle of sea travel. Even if it had ended in disaster, the ship itself had been remarkable.

‘Eventually… I’ll book another cruise, purely for leisure. Next time, though, I’ll vet it thoroughly. No surprises allowed.’

She rose and stretched, then reclined on the bed, letting her mind drift for a moment before reeling her thoughts back toward the recent events in Nawah and her next steps.

‘At least I made it out before the Church’s investigation teams fully mobilized. I assumed they’d take a day or two to respond after what happened, but they were on the move almost instantly…

‘Come to think of it, they were probably already in the area because of the Abyssian Cult incident. It’s likely they just stumbled into the Black Dream Hunters while pursuing other leads. Poor things—so many crises layered over one another…’

Dorothy reflected with her usual ironic detachment, well aware that trouble seemed to trail her steps no matter where she went.

‘But why did the Black Dream Hunters decide to force the Cocoon’s manifestation *that* night? The Church’s fleet was already docked—its specialists present in full force. Forcing the Cocoon into reality then was no different than openly declaring war. Why not wait? Let the Church leave, then make their move? Was it because they believed the failed reconnaissance at the cathedral meant they’d been exposed? If that’s the case, their decision-making is alarmingly poor.’

She frowned slightly, lying still as she weighed their possible motivations. The move still struck her as absurdly reckless. But rather than dwell on it, she directed her thoughts to more immediate matters.

‘Troyes is the target now. Based on the intelligence I gathered in Nawah, it’s the most prominent city in southern Castiglia. Bigger than Nawah by far, though still no match for Tivian. And it’s the closest major hub from here. A city of that scale has to house a chapter of the White Stone Craftsmen’s Guild…

‘Neve’s academic group should be wrapping up in Nawah soon. They’re supposed to sail for Troyes tomorrow, then transfer en route to Iwig. Vania’s fleet, according to reports, is also nearly ready to set off again. That means everyone should be on the move—and soon, we’ll all arrive. Finally.’

Dorothy exhaled, allowing herself a moment of anticipation. If everything had gone according to plan, the entire group would already be in Iwig. The delays had been extensive and exhausting.

Still, the knowledge that movement was resuming gave her a measure of peace. If luck held, perhaps the remainder of the journey would be free of catastrophes.

—

**Northern Shores of the Conqueror Sea — Nawah**

In the southern harbor of Nawah, activity surged. The Church’s fleet, anchored for several days, was finally preparing to depart. Their pilgrimage to Iwig was set to continue.

“At last, we’re moving again… What was meant to be a short stop turned into such chaos.”

From within her cabin, Vania—her robes white and crisp—spoke softly as she looked through the window, taking in the hive of motion outside. Dorothy had already filled her in on the previous night’s ordeal, as well as the fallout that followed this morning.

‘How terrifying… A cult of this nature hiding beneath the surface of a quiet port town? One capable of manipulating dreams, draining cocoon energy, birthing abominations… They’re as dangerous as the Wolf Blood Society in every way…

‘If not for Aka’s sheltering presence… If Dorothy hadn’t been close enough to help… I would’ve perished in that crypt, or worse. Aka never demands devotion, yet She’s saved me again.’

Vania touched her chest with reverence, recognizing yet another moment where divine intervention had spared her life. That such protection would come to someone like her—just a scribe of scriptures—was both humbling and uplifting. Each time it happened, her faith in Aka grew deeper.

‘No, not just me… All of Nawah was protected. Though neither Aka nor Her earthly envoys claim to save everyone, they act with an urgency and compassion that sometimes outshine even the Church. This time, they preserved an entire city.’

As the ship slowly distanced itself from the pier, Vania looked back at Nawah’s coast and the workers bustling on the docks. Her heart swelled with a tangled mix of emotions.

At first, she had feared her connection to a foreign deity. The consequences, if discovered, could have been catastrophic. But now, that anxiety had given way to something else—gratitude. It was through Aka’s influence that Vania had played a part, no matter how small, in saving lives. Something she never could have imagined in her quiet life of study.

‘According to Miss Dorothy, the chaos last night was triggered by a nightmare beast conjured by the dream cult. It was destroyed within the dreamscape by one of Aka’s envoys.

‘And Dorothy… She’s so young, yet she’s already in communion with a divine envoy? That must mean she holds a meaningful rank among Aka’s followers. I wonder what form the envoy took… I wish I could have seen it myself…’

Vania’s awe deepened, but her attention soon shifted. A strange scene unfolded on the docks below.

Among the crowd preparing for departure, she spotted several individuals *leaving* the harbor instead. One of them she recognized instantly: Joad, the fleet’s commanding officer.

“That’s… Sir Joad. He looks completely drained. But why is he heading into the city now, of all times? The fleet is ready to go…

“And the ones walking beside him… They’re Inquisitors. The robes belong to the Castigian Tribunal. Are they… escorting him? Taking him away?”

Perplexity colored her words as she continued to watch. Unbeknownst to her, others in the city had noticed the same unusual development.

—

Not far from the docks, a tall hotel loomed. On its uppermost floor, two men occupied a suite.

One, younger, stood at the window with the curtain pulled aside, eyes locked on the harbor. The other—a grizzled middle-aged man with a thick beard—sat at a table cluttered with parchment, carefully organizing documents.

“They’re about to leave, all right. The ships are nearly underway. But wait… More clergy just showed up. The robes—they’re Tribunal!”

The younger man reported, his vision sharply honed. The older operative paused, placing his documents aside as he stood.

“The Tribunal? Those psychos? Great. That complicates everything… Far more dangerous than the Knight Orders. Getting any intelligence past them is damn near impossible.

“Still… if they’re here, it likely confirms what we feared. Costas and his team didn’t vanish—they got caught. This crew’s here to seize control of the investigation.”

His tone turned grim as he speculated. Both men were agents of the Abyssian Cult, sent to Nawah to investigate Costas’s disappearance and recover the Deep Blue Heart.

“So Costas is either captured or dead. We ought to notify White Tear Island. Begin the soul-summation rites.”

The younger man spoke with quiet urgency. His companion shook his head.

“Summoning? Not from that far. If he died here, they won’t be able to reach him from White Tear. Not unless they had the body… And even then, too much time has passed.”

The older man’s tone was flat, his eyes hard. In the secret world, summoning the dead was vital—but only a few orders, those deep in the Path of Silence, could manage real communication. Most practitioners never advanced far enough to bridge large distances.

The Abyssian Cult’s talents didn’t lie in necromancy. Their summoners were limited, their rituals constrained by geography. Without someone close by and strong enough to act as an anchor, even locating a soul could be impossible.

This was precisely why they had been dispatched in person. Now, the signs all pointed to failure.

“So, what now? With Tribunal agents prowling the city, digging any deeper will be suicidal. Do we pull back and file a preliminary report?”

The younger man’s nerves were evident, his voice taut with unease. The older man snorted.

“A report? What would we even say? We don’t have confirmation on Costas. We’ve found no trace of the Deep Blue Heart. That kind of report is nothing but ash.”

“Well, what choice do we have?! We can’t—”

He suddenly broke off, squinting through the window again. He rubbed his eyes, disbelief on his face.

“What is it?” the older man asked, sensing something had changed.

“The fleet *is* preparing to sail… but Joad’s left the harbor. Other officers too. What in the world…?”

Curious now, the older man stood and moved to another window. Pulling back the curtain, he peered out. It didn’t take long to verify the oddity.

“That’s Joad Schneider, the escort fleet’s commander. And he’s walking away from his post… The others with him—those are his senior officers. They’re being flanked by Tribunal agents.”

He frowned. Joad’s fleet was a familiar sight—he knew the man, had observed his operations often.

“Joad? Abandoning command at the moment of departure? The Tribunal has them boxed in like prisoners,” the younger man said, incredulous.

His companion pondered for a moment before speaking again.

“Must be tied to last night’s chaos. Whatever Joad did—or failed to do—must have drawn serious suspicion. The Tribunal doesn’t hesitate to purge their own.”

“Damn it… I slept through the whole thing. Knocked out by that dream haze,” the younger man muttered, massaging his temples.

“I was caught the same way. But clearly, something huge went down. There’s no other reason for the fleet’s leadership to be rounded up. Nawah’s layers run deeper than we realized…

“One thing’s certain: this fleet’s setting off without its senior commanders. That’s going to leave them vulnerable.”

The older man leaned back slightly, a glint in his eye as the weight of what they’d seen settled in.

“Well then… Our report might actually carry some weight after all.”