Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 449

Chapter 449

Perched by the expansive window of a lavish hotel suite overlooking the busy street below, Dorothy methodically chewed her fried egg, eyes locked on a document filled with orderly lines of printed script. Her thoughts were quietly circling.

‘So Azam’s Sand Scythe Society had a formal agreement with the Guild… and Galib feigned compliance just long enough to delay them and keep them from meddling in their inner struggle. Then, right after grabbing control, he discarded the agreement and allied himself with the Gloom Gold Society — the ones backing him behind the scenes all along. No wonder the Guild despises him. He pulled the wool over their eyes.’<e/m>

‘The Guild’s whole policy of staying neutral hinges on both sides agreeing not to interfere. Galib’s betrayal hit that core tenet directly. That’s why they retaliated by leaking strategic information on the Sand Scythe Society.’<e/m>

Dorothy figured the real transgression, from the Guild’s perspective, wasn’t Galib partnering with the Gloom Gold Society — they didn’t care who you chose to deal with. It was the fact that he tore up a contract. For merchants, contracts were close to sacred.

‘Good thing that bastard ripped it up, or Beverly wouldn’t have coughed up this info. Guess it’s time to book a ride to Ivig.’<e/m>

After swallowing the last bite of egg, Dorothy grabbed her pen and scribbled a question onto the page before her.

“What does that divination artifact Azam uses actually look like?” she wrote, having already resolved to head to Ivig. But Beverly’s answer gave her pause.

“No one truly knows what the artifact looks like. Ever since Azam got his hands on it, he never once showed it to anyone. Beyond Azam himself, its appearance remains a mystery.”

‘Seriously? No one? So if I’m going after it, I’ll have to tear that whole museum apart piece by piece.’<e/m>

Her brows drew together in frustration as she dipped her pen again.

“You said it has a three-year cooldown. Is it ready now, or still recharging? And if it’s recharging, how much longer before it’s active again?”

That detail was crucial — if the artifact wasn’t usable yet, this whole expedition might be for nothing.

“Don’t worry. We’ve worked alongside Azam long enough to track the major stuff. The last time he summoned the entire Society for a big dig — harvesting loads of Enlightenment — was sometime around mid to late April 1357. Considering how long preparation and travel take, he probably used the artifact in mid to late March of that year.”

‘Mid-to-late March 1357… and it’s early March 1360 now. That means the artifact’s cooldown is nearly over. It’ll reactivate within a few weeks. Late March at the earliest, April at the latest… Yeah, I can’t pass this up.’<e/m>

A new concern clicked into place — if she’d worked this out, then Galib surely had too. He’d be making moves to seize the artifact soon. He wouldn’t be dragging his feet.

“Your insight’s been a real help. Thanks.”

“Hope it serves you well. Any blow to Galib and the Gloom Gold Society is something we take satisfaction in.”

Not long after, Beverly signed off. Dorothy rolled up the Universal Sea Scroll and finished off the ham on her plate. Her next task was clear — draw spiritual energy from the two Stone-path grimoires she’d just received. Settling into her seat, she wiped her mouth, all while sending a remote command to Brander, who was still en route by carriage, to unwrap the Guild courier’s oil-paper package. As the books arrived, she selected the first one and started reading.

……

The first grimoire was a handwritten manuscript by none other than Cole Wright — a name recognized across the world. The famed innovator behind the development and refinement of the steam engine.

Cole Wright had lived more than fifty years ago. His contributions were standard material in school textbooks. His breakthroughs sparked the rise of industrial society. He wasn’t just the inventor of practical steam machines, but also the creator of the first steam locomotive. Even those with only a basic education knew of him.

Yet the manuscript revealed a side of Cole Wright hidden from the general public. He was a powerful “Stone” type non-ordinary person — holding a senior position in the White Stonemason Guild, and a devoted follower of the God of Crafts and Forging.

The broader world saw only an inventor. But his true work delved far deeper into the supernatural. Page after page uncovered his secret projects and arcane blueprints.

He designed compact steam cores capable of powering massive machinery and replacing horses with steam-driven carriages. He developed jetpacks using condensed “Shadow” energy, enabling flight for those without innate gifts. Submarines for deep-sea travel. He even explored alternative, highly efficient non-coal fuels…

Every section introduced jaw-dropping technology. If these ideas had been fully implemented, society would look entirely different today. But the spiritual contamination laced into the manuscript ensured that such possibilities remained locked away — never to be realized.

……

‘Just like Beverly said… the ones really shaping history from the shadows are usually non-ordinary folk. Cole Wright is the textbook case. These designs are years, maybe decades, ahead of their time. If not for the spiritual poison, he might’ve changed the course of civilization.’<e/m>

Dorothy mused as she finished reading. Considering that the Ranking Core had likely chosen him to lead the Steam Revolution, and given his top-tier Guild standing, he had almost certainly been one of the Blessed.

With the first volume read and its energies drawn, she directed Brander to put it away and bring her the second grimoire.

……

The next text, titled *Bones of the Mountain*<e/m>, was much older. Its pages were weathered and partially ruined. The author remained unnamed, the document functioning as a record of research into the ancient Stone Prince Faith.

The writer described expeditions into the massive Spine Mountains in the eastern Mainland, where he stumbled upon decaying mountain settlements deep within the range. After extensive study, he determined that these belonged to adherents of the Stone Prince Faith.

Their customs were unique: their homes built entirely of massive, unshaped stones that fit together naturally. There were no statues or depictions of the Stone Prince. Instead of worshipping crafted idols, they revered the largest mountain visible to them — regarding towering massifs as divine beings, and placing altars where the peaks’ overwhelming presence could be felt most strongly.

Their burial customs also stood out — cremating the dead and then carefully preserving the intact skeletons, which were then placed inside inaccessible natural caves along sheer cliffs. The author expressed amazement that villagers — even non-ordinary ones — could manage such feats.

Elsewhere, the author collected folklore from neighboring regions. Local tales spoke of massive mountains as ancient titans, frozen into stone. Even in areas where the Glorious Trinity had taken root, traces of mountain-worship lingered in rituals and beliefs.

……

‘The Stone Prince Faith… it’s astonishing how deeply rooted it remains in isolated regions. It feels ancient and stark — no icons, no images, just towering peaks standing in as sacred beings. It couldn’t be more different from the Ranked Core’s deep devotion to creation and craftsmanship.’<e/m>

Having finished the second grimoire, Dorothy gave the order for Brander to secure both volumes. She then focused on drawing out the spiritual essence locked within them.

She extracted 4 Stone and 2 Enlightenment from the Cole Wright manuscript, and 3 Stone with 1 Enlightenment from *Bones of the Mountain*<e/m>. Her updated reserves were now:

28 Cup, 11 Stone, 20 Shadow, 4 Lamp, 14 Silence, and 40 Enlightenment. Along with 2 Cup and 4 Shadow in stored items, and £1850 in currency.

‘That gives me enough Stone for defense — barely. But one serious fight and I’ll burn through it fast. I’m nowhere near having the energy for any real advancement. Not unless I land another haul like the Summertree job…’<e/m>

She glanced at her dwindling resources but dismissed the thought. Rising from her seat, she pulled on her coat and shoes, mentally ticking off the next steps.

‘Enough woolgathering. First things first — pick up Brander, then secure transport to Ivig. If that divination tool activates sometime this month… I’ve got almost no time left. I need to start investigating Adria now.’<e/m>

She headed down to the hotel lobby. Outside, she surveyed the road, then flagged down a carriage.

Once inside, she gave the driver her destination. The cab began moving. As the scenery slipped by, Dorothy felt restlessness creep in. She reached for the bundle of daily papers tucked near the door — she disliked idle hands and an empty mind.

Unfolding the *Troyes Morning Post*<e/m>, her gaze locked onto the top headline. Her entire body stilled. Brow furrowed deeply, she stared at the bold text before reading aloud under her breath.

“Pilgrim Fleet in Peril, Merciful Saint Mother Reveals Miracle; Beacon upon Savage Seas; Gospel Evangelist Touched by Grace in Wilderness…

“Tale of Sister Valeria Chavlin, Exemplar of Holy Vocation Among Her Generation, Worldly Light of Selfless Evangelism, Devoted Handmaid of the Lord…”

The front page was almost entirely consumed by the story, her acquaintance’s name prominent and in large font. Dorothy sat in silence for a long time, then muttered in Pritterish.

“Last time I made headlines… it was a scrappy little piece in some forgotten Igwint tabloid after wiping out a Bakker den. Valeria just steps out and *bam*, the entire front page is hers. Damn kids — always one step ahead of us relics…”

……

10:00 AM, Northern Conqueror Sea.

Out on the rolling ocean, over a dozen warships sailed beneath the Church’s banner, their orange-yellow sun-emblem flags snapping violently in the sea wind.

Among them, three simple passenger vessels carried pilgrims recently rescued from grave danger. They were now under heavy protection, traveling forward with double the military escort — safe passage assured.

On the lead ship’s foredeck stood a nun clad in flowing white robes. She faced the unseen coastline ahead, her garments flapping hard in the wind like banners in battle. Her expression was tight — concern plainly etched into her features.

“Sister Valeria, the wind’s growing stronger. Please come below deck,” came a steady voice from behind.

She turned to see a young officer from the Church fleet, formally dressed in regulation uniform. The insignia on his collar marked him as a Senior Deacon — a respected post in the Holy Order.

Though he outranked her — she was only an Intermediate Deacon — his voice carried genuine respect.

“Brother Andre… I was hoping to catch sight of land,” she answered with grace. “Do we have long to go?”

“We expect to reach Cad Harbour tonight,” he replied without pause. “Once we’ve rested and stocked up, we’ll set sail again in the morning. We should arrive in Arcadia by the afternoon. Archbishop Antonio is arranging a grand welcome — dignitaries from all over Ivig are expected. You, Sister Valeria, are the honored guest of it all.”

He added kindly, “For that reason, please — it’s best to protect your health. This wind isn’t kind.”