Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 434

**Chapter 434: Conversion**
*Conquest Sea, SummerTree Archipelago*

Midmorning on the SummerTree Main Island brought with it pandemonium outside a wide wooden lodge.

The ground was torn apart—wooden planks splintered, nearby trees gashed and broken. Several SummerTree warriors lay groaning or unconscious, bearing injuries that spoke of recent battle. The skirmish had been between the island’s own guards and a man supposedly bearing a message.

“Let go of me! Su Kai, unhand me! I bring word from Priest Anam! How dare you treat me this way!”

O’Bue, restrained by multiple warriors, knelt on the wrecked floor, his expression burning with outrage. Standing before him was Su Kai, the sentinel assigned to this outpost. Behind Su Kai, the large lodge was crowded with pilgrims of the Church of Glory.

“I don’t doubt you arrived with instructions,” Su Kai said coolly, arms crossed over his tunic-clad chest. “The issue is *what* those instructions were. Just to be clear, repeat the orders you were sent to deliver.”

Caught momentarily off-guard, O’Bue scowled and shouted again. “Priest Anam received the Church’s reply! Our terms were rejected! He instructed me to tell you: execute all the hostages immediately! Make our reply unmistakable! I carry Priest Anam’s staff as proof!”

He flung his words into the air, glancing meaningfully toward the staff discarded a distance away. Su Kai listened, then exhaled slowly and gave a quiet, steady reply.

“Thought so. Restrain him. Lock him up.”

Su Kai’s tone was dispassionate, as if issuing an ordinary command. His men immediately moved to lift O’Bue and begin dragging him off. At once, O’Bue exploded in resistance, yelling hoarsely in desperation.

“Su Kai, you fool! These are critical orders! The Church mocks us—we must answer! We—Mmmph!”

His screams cut off mid-sentence. Deciding O’Bue had made enough noise, Su Kai manipulated the nearby water source—drawing a sphere of water into the air and pressing it over O’Bue’s face. While someone trained in the Way of Tides wouldn’t drown right away, the water muffled him effectively.

With O’Bue dragged off, Su Kai stepped forward and picked up the staff left in the clearing. His eyes scanned the treeline until he saw Priest Anam slowly emerging from behind a tree.

“Priest Anam, the moment he mentioned the order to kill hostages, I detained him—just as you directed.”

He held the staff out in offering. Taking it with solemn care, Anam gave a slow nod and replied.

“Good. Now release the Church’s pilgrims. Ensure they’re gathered and given shelter and food.”

“Yes, Priest. I’ll make sure O’Bue is secured, then see it done.”

With that, Su Kai departed, his warriors following until they disappeared down the paths between trees. After their departure, a white-robed figure approached—Sister Venia. Anam, still holding the staff, sighed as she drew near.

“Completely unexpected… All this time, we thought ourselves bold defenders of our faith. But we were merely pawns—tools wielded by someone else to strike at the Church. If not for your intervention, Sister Venia, I fear SummerTree would have been crushed… left as scraps for the Abyssal Serpent’s lapdogs.”

His voice was heavy with remorse. Venia answered softly.

“I did only what I had to. As fellow devotees of the old faith, I couldn’t stand by and watch SummerTree fall.”

Silence settled between them. Anam looked down at the staff in his grip, then back at Venia.

“You’ve saved us. But tell me—how did you uncover O’Bue’s betrayal? How did you know he was acting under the Abyssal Serpent’s influence?”

“It wasn’t difficult,” Venia said evenly. “When I asked how you learned about our fleet’s weakness, you told me O’Bue returned from trading, claiming it was just seafaring rumors. But I was on that fleet. Our vulnerability wasn’t a public matter—it happened suddenly, due to an unforeseen event, and only in Nawaha. The Church locked that entire port down. No normal trader could’ve possibly heard anything unless someone was using special means to spy on the area.”

She paused briefly, then went on.

“And even if the information somehow got out, it would’ve taken days to reach other traders. But according to what you told me, O’Bue came back to SummerTree *four days ago*—just when the incident occurred. That kind of timing is impossible unless someone directly fed him intelligence through abnormal channels. So it’s clear he’s in contact with powers beyond SummerTree. Ones not bound by the ordinary.”

Anam stroked his beard, his expression troubled. “So that’s how it was… O’Bue was the only one among us who ventured far overseas. We always depended on him for outside news, never once questioning his motives. We trusted him, and he betrayed that trust—for the Abyssal Serpent. Perhaps his long absences made it easier to hide.”

“One more thing, Sister Venia—how did you confirm who he was truly aligned with?”

A hint of amusement flickered in Venia’s eyes. “At first, I wasn’t sure. So I tested him. During our earlier conversation, I used vague language to lure him into revealing himself. You were too far away to hear clearly, Priest Anam. I implied we might be allies. That prompted him to speak carelessly—details he shouldn’t have shared slipped out. That’s how I knew for sure—he serves the Deep.”

She finished and waited. Anam took in her words slowly, then sighed again. His eyes lingered on her, both grateful and wary.

“Impressive, Sister Venia. Still so young, yet able to see so deeply and act with such precision. Having someone like you among us is both comforting… and unsettling.”

“You honor me, Priest Anam,” Venia replied sincerely. “Remaining faithful to the Goddess under the Church’s eye means we must always tread carefully. A little caution is necessary.”

“You don’t know me well enough yet, and that hesitation is understandable. But let me reassure you—my actions will never harm SummerTree. We serve the same faith.”

Venia’s words were quiet but steady. Anam nodded, pausing before exhaling long.

“I pray it’s as you say. We’ve run out of paths, Venia.”

He looked up at the immense, ancient trees surrounding them.

“Come. Let’s finalize the details of our ‘conversion.’ Once we’re finished, messengers must depart at once to inform the Church.”

“Yes. Let’s pray this path leads to peace.”

—

“Hah… That patch is done. Another leak sealed. This SummerTree operation is just about resolved. What a headache…”

Dorothy leaned back on the couch in her suite at the Troyes hotel, letting out an exhausted sigh. Her desk was covered in crumpled paper, messy diagrams, and half-legible notes—evidence of the sleepless night she’d endured.

She had worked tirelessly through the night drafting the framework for SummerTree’s counterfeit conversion. She hadn’t intended to go overboard—but between the lucrative payment on offer and her own pride, she ended up producing something far more polished than planned.

‘Was supposed to be a quick outline to pacify them… but the reward was just *too* good. Got carried away… pulled an all-nighter… and now I’ve built a whole protocol instead of a sketch.’

Rubbing her forehead, Dorothy reflected. Those thirty points of “Cup” spiritual energy were too tempting to ignore.

‘Well, the hostages are safe, the island didn’t fall, and the mole’s been caught. The worst has passed. A bit of cleanup remains, but… manageable.’

‘If they stick to my script, the Church won’t be any wiser. Even once the conversion’s announced, they’ll enter a lengthy assessment phase. That gap gives us plenty of time to adjust and maneuver behind the scenes.’

She wasn’t concerned about the plan being too elaborate. Its structure followed hidden precedents buried in history. And even if it got exposed, she’d ensured the blame would fall on SummerTree alone. To most of the locals, Sister Venia was just a puppet they’d used—meaning even in disaster, Venia would look blameless.

‘Either way, I’m done here. Time to return to my own goals… after a real rest. Two days off… then straight to the local White Stone Mason Guild.’

‘I’m still short on both “Cup” and “Stone” energies. Now that I’ve plenty of “Cup,” I just need to buy a few “Stone” Tradition Scrolls. This route actually saves me money.’

Yawning, Dorothy stood, shuffled her papers into a neater stack, and freshened up. Moments later, she collapsed into bed and pulled the covers over her. Sleep came almost instantly.

—

*Iwig, Cleansing Heart Cathedral*

Inside the vaulted sanctuary, rows of figures stood immobile. Each wore a mix of polished armor and black clerical garb, faces obscured by heavy helms, lances gleaming in their grip.

These were the Church Knights—solemn and unyielding. Their presence echoed beneath the soaring stone arches. At their head stood Archbishop Antonio, watching them with a grim and unwavering gaze.

“In twenty minutes, the Grey Shroud will reach this district. You will board her and arrive at SummerTree before dusk. Your mission is to find every pilgrim still held there and retrieve them unharmed. Kill anyone who attempts to block your way. Sanctuary itself ordered the Grey Shroud across the ocean for this precise strike. Failure is not an option. Your success must be complete. Do you understand?”

He swept his stare over the line of visors. “Use whatever tools you must. Recover the pilgrims. Spare no defiance. Show no mercy.”

“As the Savior commands, we obey!” they shouted in unison.

Antonio gave a curt nod and turned his back to them. His eyes fixed on the central altar and the grand Effigy of the Holy Mother. For a moment, the resolve in his face cracked, sorrow creeping in.

“So this is how it ends… Was this always our fate?”

*‘All my years in Iwig… brought to ruin? Did you anticipate this all along, Justin?’*

His gaze stayed on the statue. He felt hollow inside. He’d led Iwig without ever once invoking a Purification Edict. Yet now, he had no choice. Enforcing it would obliterate the fragile trust he’d spent years nurturing.

“You’ve gone too far, SummerTree…”

He muttered the judgment, wondering if he should step down from his post. At that moment, a side door slammed open. A breathless acolyte rushed in.

“Your Grace! Urgent message from SummerTree!”

Antonio spun around. “Speak! Have they started the executions?”

“N-No, Your Grace! They’ve declared… they’re converting! Fēngshù Priest Anam says they’ll release the pilgrims… and the whole island will convert to the Church!”

The young cleric stopped before Antonio, struggling to breathe as he gave the stunning report. Antonio stared blankly for a moment before he rasped:

“What did you say? Say that again.”

“Priest Anam has pledged to free every captive. Furthermore, the entire population of SummerTree has rejected their ancestral beliefs and now pledges loyalty to the Most Holy Mother. They request immediate conversion!”

Silence dropped like a curtain. Antonio didn’t move. The knights behind him murmured faintly, armor clinking in disbelief.

“Impossible… Anam, of all people, agreeing to convert? What could drive such a complete reversal?”

The archbishop shook his head, dazed. The most insular of all the southern tribes—thousands of them—suddenly surrendering their traditions?

“Your Grace,” the messenger added carefully, “they claim a pilgrim—one of ours—was responsible. A Sister devoted to the Holy Mother spoke with them. Her kindness and wisdom moved the Priest and his council. She’s the one credited with this change of heart.”

Antonio’s breath caught. “A Sister… of the Holy Mother?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Her name is Venia Chafflin, from the Prithvi diocese.”

Another stretch of silence passed. Understanding began to dawn across Antonio’s features. Slowly, he turned back toward the Holy Mother’s effigy. His eyes climbed up to her sculpted face.

When he spoke, it was barely audible.

“One Sister… bringing a whole island to our side through mercy and persuasion? Could this truly be…? Could this be… your miracle, Holy Mother of Mercy?”