Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 441

Chapter 441**Northern Shores of the Conqueror Sea, Troyes.**

Dorothy sat quietly in the dim tavern, her thoughts weighed down by the problem at hand: figuring out how to take on a Stone Golem of White Ash rank. Based on the intel she’d previously gotten from Beverly, this wasn’t something she could handle solo—not with her current assets. She needed a better game plan.

*“Tch… What’s really killing me here is the clock. If I had more time to prep, this wouldn’t be half as difficult…”*

She brooded over the situation. With adequate lead time, she could’ve reached out for reinforcements. Either Vania or Nevis would’ve made all the difference. Having one of them nearby would’ve lightened this burden considerably.

*A packed schedule, barely any manpower, and a mountain of work… This mission is a nightmare…*

Letting out a sigh, Dorothy gave her temples a rub and decided to shelve the matter temporarily. Instead, she turned to another pressing priority—reviewing the grimoires she’d bought earlier that day.

She hadn’t dared crack them open right away, not after noticing the Path-Guiding Altar seals. Dorothy had chosen caution over haste, waiting until her pursuers had been neutralized and the overall situation stabilized. Only then did she prepare to draw out the spiritual energy hidden in the trio of books.

She pulled the battered volumes over from the side table. While she’d already used their sealed back covers to mislead her enemies, the actual contents remained intact. Now it was time to delve into them and extract their energy—a crucial step ahead of her looming clash with the Gloom Gold Society.

She opened the first grimoire and began to read. It didn’t take long for her to reach the end.

———

This first book bore no title. It turned out to be a handwritten collection of field observations by a tomb raider named Plaire, who had spent years studying the construction and defense mechanisms of burial sites across North Ufia.

Plaire had condensed a career’s worth of knowledge into this notebook, presenting detailed breakdowns of tomb layouts and the kinds of traps commonly encountered. His examples were numerous and precise. The grimoire gave special focus to tombs designed to kill intruders, complete with explanations of how their traps operated and how to defuse or avoid them—quicksand pits, rockfalls, hidden collapses, pressure-triggered bolts, entombing walls… everything had diagrams too. The level of detail was exceptional.

Essentially, it was a comprehensive manual for looting tombs—the culmination of a professional looter’s meticulous work. Anyone skilled enough to absorb it would find the hazards of ancient ruins far less lethal.

Still, Plaire had included a cautionary note. Being good with traps didn’t mean one could just waltz into North Ufian tombs. Aside from deadly contraptions, these places often harbored cursed beings, monstrous residents, and lingering spirits—dangers far worse than gears and tripwires.

———

*Another tomb raider’s journal… So it’s not just Nevis’s grandfather who wrote this kind of thing. Seems like a fair number of them were researchers, not just boneheaded brutes… Well, if you don’t think carefully in that line of work, you don’t live long enough to write anything.*

She closed the grimoire, her thoughts lingering a moment before she began drawing its spiritual energy: 3 units of “Stone,” and 1 of “Enlightenment.”

With that done, she reached for the second grimoire. The moment her eyes passed over its opening lines, her expression tightened.

The script was unmistakably the same as the first. Curious, Dorothy gave it a closer inspection. Sure enough, the handwriting confirmed it—this one was Plaire’s work too.

*So the first two are from the same guy… Looks like I picked up a matched pair without realizing it. Plaire really went all-in, huh? Could the third be his as well…?*

Intrigued, she flipped open the last of the three books. A few pages in, and there it was again—the same familiar handwriting. All three were Plaire’s creations.

*Well, I guess that explains it. They were probably shelved together, and the merchant just handed me the whole bundle when I asked.*

Satisfied with the discovery, Dorothy set the third one aside for now and focused on properly reading the second volume.

———

Like the first, the author was Plaire, but the second grimoire carried a different feel. Dorothy noted immediately that it had been written later in his life. His writing had matured—his lettering was more precise, his language broader, and his phrasing showed polish. It was clear he’d grown intellectually. The content also reflected that shift. It wasn’t solely about tomb defenses anymore—it explored the architecture of North Ufia at large.

Plaire’s interests had expanded. Where once he’d obsessed over just getting through traps, now he cared about the structures themselves—about the ruins and ancient buildings that dotted North Ufia’s forgotten regions. It felt less like treasure-hunting and more like true academic curiosity.

Dorothy could see that this was a man who had once been a looter, but had, through his work, developed a deep respect for the craftsmanship of the ancients. Plaire’s awe for the Old Ufigrans bled through in every page. Their engineering marvels had left a mark on him, and this journal chronicled his explorations of their surviving relics across North Ufia.

———

*Seriously? He went from robbing tombs to studying ancient civilizations? All from obsessing over their trap systems? That’s one hell of a leap. Education really can flip a person’s whole trajectory…*

She completed the second volume, her impression of Plaire now far more nuanced. Drawing its energy, she received 4 “Stone” points and 2 “Enlightenment.”

Next came the third. She picked it up and started flipping through. As she read, her face slowly grew more focused.

———

This final volume appeared to have been penned many years after the second. Plaire’s writing here had reached the level of an established scholar—eloquent, precise, and structured. It was hard to reconcile this academic voice with the tomb raider he had once been.

By the time of this writing, Plaire had evidently transitioned entirely into academia, devoting himself to uncovering the secrets of North Ufia’s ancient civilization. But this book went even deeper than his previous ones. Though it started with a nod to architecture, its true heart lay elsewhere.

Plaire had grown fascinated with the core science that underpinned all engineering: mathematics.

Yes, his research had led him from buildings to the numbers that made them possible. The third grimoire focused almost entirely on ancient Ufian mathematics.

He referred to that long-gone culture as the First Dynasty, describing its sophistication not just in construction but in the foundational math that enabled such feats. The more he studied, the clearer it became: their mathematical knowledge was shockingly advanced—beyond even what the current industrial age had achieved.

Over decades, Plaire pieced together fragments of a wholly unique numerical system, unlike any modern method. He believed it was intricately tied to their religious worldview. They called it the “Sacred Number.”

Their belief system wasn’t dogmatic—it was rooted in order, logic, and clarity. They revered the Sacred Number as the underpinning of existence. Mastering it, they believed, granted the ability to understand all aspects of the world—even the divine.

One section recounted the First Dynasty’s creation myth regarding the Sacred Number. The tale claimed it had been gifted by a divine being known as the Heavenly Judge. Their myth told the story this way:

> “Our ancestors crawled in the dark, eating raw flesh, living no better than beasts—until a rift in the sky let in the light.
>
> The Heavenly Judge took the heavens as parchment, wielded lightning as brush, and thunder as proclamation, delivering revelation to humankind.
>
> That flash carved symbols into the sky, and from them came language.
>
> The Sacred Number was the first script taught, the primal thunder signifying the beginning—the number ‘One.’ Every act of studying it was thus an offering to the Heavenly Judge.”

———

Dorothy leaned back in her chair, the third tome now finished. She let its contents settle in her mind, still stunned by what she had uncovered.

*The First Dynasty… The Heavenly Judge… So that’s what the ancients of Ufia called themselves. And this deity—that’s the one they worshipped. The same name cropped up in that mummy’s grimoire—the one targeting Nevis’s whole bloodline.*

Piecing things together, she was struck by a realization.

*If this god used lightning to grant wisdom… the First writing, first numbers, first formulas… All handed down through bolts from the sky—then this is definitely a deity of the “Enlightenment” domain. A thunder god, a teacher, a mathematician—all wrapped into one. It’s got to be Enlightenment-aligned.*

She found herself oddly aligned with this mysterious Heavenly Judge—the first Enlightenment deity she’d ever come across. And to think she discovered it through the writings of a man who once dug up graves for gold.

*The First Dynasty must’ve reached its height during the Second Era. That would make this Heavenly Judge a relic of ancient times… likely long gone. But how it faded—now that’s a mystery.*

Dorothy stared at the grimoire again, ready to draw out its energy—but then paused. Something felt off.

*Now that I think about it… does this even count as a “Stone” grimoire anymore? Sure, the intro touched on engineering, but most of it was about numbers—ancient mathematical theory from who-knows-how-many eras ago. If engineering’s tied to Stone, then mathematics falls squarely under Enlightenment. This book doesn’t belong in the Stone category.*

She frowned. Most likely, the person who filed it had skimmed just the start, assumed it was similar to the first two, and shelved it accordingly. But this was no mistake on her part—it was a cataloging error.

Extracting its energy now would only add to her already overflowing pool of Enlightenment power. Not exactly useful. She hesitated.

*Converting this thing straight into Enlightenment energy just seems like a waste. Maybe I should try something else—like an interdimensional trade. But what kind of knowledge could I expect in return?*

Looking at the book’s fusion of math and divine thunder lore, she tapped her chin thoughtfully.

*Hmph… Mathematics and lightning myths? What kind of info would that yield? Last time I traded regular academic material, I got useless trivia…*

She propped her head on her hand, deep in thought. And then, a spark.

*Wait a sec… When I helped the Summertree Tribe, didn’t I pull knowledge from that *other* place? If I’m offering content related to numbers and thunder, that aligns perfectly with *her* area of expertise! That might just get me something truly useful—something I can use against those Gloom Gold Society rats.*

With a triumphant thud of her fist into her palm, the idea clicked into place. This time, she would pursue a specific outcome.

*To pull targeted knowledge, the offering needs to be tightly linked to the domain I’m aiming for. I can strengthen that link myself.*

She immediately set to work, reshaping the grimoire in her mind. While Plaire’s final tome focused on First Dynasty mathematics, Dorothy added her own findings—analyses of her own electrokinetic powers. She used the ancient math principles to build formulas for managing her lightning attacks: discharge patterns, directional control, optimal energy flow.

She wove it all together into a scholarly manuscript that fused myth, math, and application. She even removed the initial architectural notes to keep the grimoire tightly focused.

Now, what she held was a mathematically anchored, lightning-infused grimoire—sprinkled with divine lore.

*Math. Precision. Thunder. That should do it. With this as the offering, the knowledge I get should be spot-on.*

*I’ve linked with that realm before, so this should reach the right stream. The connection’s as tight as I can make it…*

*No gacha pity roll here. Just one chance. Please… let this be the pull of a lifetime.*

With that, Dorothy began the knowledge exchange.