Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 431

**Chapter 431 – Literature**
Troyes, the major southern port city of Castiglia, nestled along the northern rim of the Conqueror Sea.

In the pre-dawn hush of Troyes, while the city slumbered in peaceful darkness, a warm glow emanated from a luxury suite overlooking the harbor. Inside, Dorothy, dressed comfortably in sleepwear, lounged on the couch, mentally processing the esoteric knowledge she had just obtained via a mix of Wolf Blood Society channels and arcane odds-and-ends from the Library, double-checking each piece’s origin and intended function.

This time, she had acquired two distinct knowledge fragments. The first was the **Voodoo Path Guidelines**, originating from a world eerily parallel to Earth. Dorothy had faint recollections of this system—Voodoo, a spiritual tradition born in West Africa.

Voodoo had taken shape as a response to colonial aggression. As imperial forces invaded African lands, they enslaved indigenous populations and forced Christian beliefs onto them. Native communities, unwilling to relinquish their ancestral gods but powerless to resist openly, adopted an ingenious strategy: outwardly accepting Christianity while secretly folding their own deities and practices into the imposed faith. They rebranded their gods as Christian saints and performed their rites under the guise of Christian rituals. This allowed their heritage to survive, cloaked in foreign robes.

Over generations, this fusion matured into a full-fledged religion—Voodoo—absorbing various influences while retaining its essence. In Dorothy’s version of Earth, it even achieved official status in certain nations.

The **Voodoo Path Guidelines** documented the early evolution of this survival strategy: how West African peoples protected their spiritual identity by burying it within a dominant framework. For Dorothy’s current purposes in **Summertree**, which echoed those same colonial dynamics, this document held immense relevance.

The second text was the **Amakusa Cross True Faith Hidden Volume**, sourced from the world of *A Certain Magical Index*. Earth, too, had its analogues.

This knowledge stemmed from the underground Christian movement that emerged in feudal Japan. During the Sengoku era, Christianity flooded the Japanese archipelago. But as the Tokugawa Shogunate unified the land and entered the Edo period, it banned the religion, launching systematic persecution. Christians went underground to survive.

The Amakusa sect was one such group. Pursued relentlessly by Shogunate agents, they developed refined methods to conceal their faith—embedding rituals in mundane daily activities. They disguised their prayers within conversations, cloaked ceremonies in meals or walks, and venerated Christian figures by presenting them as Shinto kami or Buddhist bodhisattvas. Their lives became a tapestry of covert worship, woven seamlessly into the ordinary.

The **Hidden Volume** of their doctrine detailed these stealth tactics—how to veil faith in the rhythm of life, hide sanctity in the everyday. Mastery of these methods would allow spiritual practice even in the heart of a surveilled metropolis.

Although “Amakusa Cross True Faith” was specific to Index’s world, Dorothy’s Earth had similar historical cases—the Japanese *Kakure Kirishitan* preserved Christianity in disguise.

There was a curious symmetry here. Voodoo practitioners had preserved their beliefs by presenting their gods as Christian figures. Amakusa Christians had done the inverse—cloaking their God in local religious forms. Opposite on the surface, identical in spirit: resistance, survival, adaptation.

Both documents distilled hard-earned survival strategies forged under systemic oppression. Both were priceless playbooks for navigating dominant ideological forces. Despite honoring vastly different divine entities, their value lay in their practicality. And for Dorothy, embroiled in dangerous political-religious maneuvering, they were indispensable tools.

> “With the Voodoo Path Guidelines, the Hidden Volume, and the Wolf Blood Society’s compendium, I have more than enough foundational material. Once I obtain detailed intel on Summertree’s theology, drafting a guide to masking their native beliefs should be straightforward. Immersive engagement carries risks, but the payoff is potentially immense.”

She leaned back, calculating the stakes.

> “This way, Vania and the rest of the pilgrims gain a layer of protection. Summertree’s people get shielded. The Church quietly extends its reach. I collect spiritual energy. Everyone walks away with something. Is this what they call a ‘no-loss economic model’?”

As she mused, a troubling thought emerged.

> “Now that I think about it… how did Summertree—isolated, remote South Sea islands—manage to intercept the unescorted pilgrim fleet so precisely? The timing and location of the ambush were too perfect. It had to be informed by privileged intel. But high-level Church military movements are almost impossible to divine… even for me. Summertree wouldn’t stand a chance.

> So—someone must’ve tipped them off. Some kind of specialized intelligence channel. That could be an excellent card to play later.”

With that, her mind returned fully to the matter of Summertree and the ongoing operation.

—

Across the sea, deep in the heart of Summertree’s main island, night still draped the land. After Vania successfully persuaded him, **Anman** agreed to summon the elders of all islands at dawn to deliberate on a plan for staged conversion. He promised her that, once a consensus was reached, he would allow access to Summertree’s sacred texts. Her clan’s priest could then begin crafting a customized integration strategy for their faith.

Dorothy, however, pressed for urgency. She nudged Vania to push Anman further, insisting that if the elders had no tangible example of what concealed faith might look like, debate would spiral and fracture. That risked wasting time they didn’t have.

Should the royal guard act prematurely to reclaim hostages—or if the blockade tightened before a religious pact was struck—Summertree’s cooperative stance might look hollow. The opportunity to negotiate mutual interest could vanish.

Time was tight. Flexibility was essential. Anman had authority, but real consensus required more than hierarchy. A sample demonstration would be worth more than a thousand arguments.

At Vania’s urging, Anman agreed to provide access to key documents that very night, allowing her priest to whip up a basic camouflage blueprint by morning—just enough to sway the elders.

> “Overnight? You can contact her right away? She’s already working?” Anman asked with a skeptical frown. “But can something truly convincing be produced in just one night?”

They stood together in Summertree’s ceremonial plaza. Vania answered without hesitation.

> “Our priest is remarkably skilled and deeply experienced in concealment traditions. While a full integration doctrine takes time, a handful of illustrative tactics can absolutely be ready to show by tomorrow.”

Anman considered, then gave a solemn nod.

> “Very well. Then it is in your hands.”

He brought her to his longhouse, and from there into a hidden chamber that stored Summertree’s sacred writings—aged scrolls bound in animal hide, brittle tomes with fading ink, passed down through generations.

Vania prepared a symbolic ritual circle—not functional, but sufficient to convince Anman that a spiritual process had begun. She passed the texts through it, simulating sacred communion. From his perspective, she was invoking her tribe’s priest guild across distance.

In truth, she transmitted the texts to Dorothy, who—though not a real cleric—knew how to engineer belief. The glyph was modest in strength, but enough to establish a mystical frame. Through that window, Dorothy began her deep dive.

She began by dismantling linguistic barriers. Cross-referencing Summertree writing with the **Ivig** language revealed minimal deviation from Imperial norms—suggesting it was a dialect, not an independent linguistic branch like the Spirit Seal scripts of the New World.

This simplified Dorothy’s task. Fluent in various Imperial tongues, she found herself easing quickly into translation. Soon, she was parsing the documents with little resistance.

With language out of the way, she moved on to cultural material. Much of it was straightforward: island histories stretching back centuries, records of storms and harvests, notes on religious adaptations, descriptions of agriculture, fishing methods, and boat crafting. Among them lay detailed accounts of rites, prayers, and ceremonies—many dedicated to the **Goddess of Plenty**.

These caught her attention.

The Goddess of Plenty—also known as the Mother of Bounteousness or Earthly Matron—represented nature’s generosity. She governed fertility, forests, and life itself. She was the central figure of Summertree’s spiritual world.

Islanders invoked her before farming, fishing, childbirth—any act of sustenance or growth. Her worship didn’t require temples. Her “sanctuary” was simply the forest: an open dialogue with nature.

She was the quintessential fertility goddess, and Summertree’s entire spiritual rhythm orbited around her.

Alongside her was another figure: the **Wave Walker**, or Voyager of Currents. A sea deity, guardian of the ocean, and servant to the Goddess herself. Islanders prayed to him before journeys, asking for safe waters. His altar sat in the ritual plaza, festooned with marine offerings.

Some warrior clans attributed their aquatic abilities to his ancient teachings. Their spiritual lineage was tied to the **Way of Tide**, passed down through formal ranks—from Apprentice to White Ash. In truth, they were akin to Abyssian Sect practitioners, channeling oceanic energies through martial disciplines.

One specific technique they preserved was the **Essence Current Bathing Method**—a dangerous spiritual cultivation practice involving diving into the sea’s depths to absorb raw maritime energy.

Beneath the ocean flowed hidden streams—**Essence Currents**—composed of condensed spiritual vitality. They drifted unpredictably, enhancing sea life and fertility in areas they touched.

Veteran “marine hunters” tracked the subtle shifts in fish behavior to find these elusive currents. Once located, they’d dive with precision, swimming in harmony with the current to draw spiritual energy—sometimes even discovering rare underwater treasures.

But these currents ran deep, and the deeper they went, the stronger the energy—and the greater the danger. The pressure, the predators, the uncertainty—it all demanded immense courage. Many died in pursuit of this power, but those who succeeded were revered.

This was the **Essence Current Bathing Method**—a test of devotion, skill, and bravery. A legacy of Summertree’s ancient maritime identity, and a window into its spiritual soul.

In many ways, Summertree itself stood as a last remnant of a once-expansive sea-worshipping faith—fragments of a forgotten divine lineage now centered around the Goddess of Plenty.