Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 454

Chapter 454**Conqueror Sea North Shore, Adriana.**

Time moved swiftly. The night faded rapidly. As the moon vanished and dawn broke in the East, Adriana, Iwig’s renowned tourist haven, shone once more beneath the sun.

Welcoming the new day, the city quickly regained its familiar energy. Tourists starting their explorations climbed into the gondolas of waiting boatmen, navigating the canals. Opening copies of the day’s newspaper provided in their boats, the headline announced the successful conclusion of the welcome banquet personally hosted by Archbishop Antonio the prior evening. Archbishop Antonio had already left Adriana that very morning, beginning his return journey to Pace, the royal capital.

At midday, within a room of a building adjacent to Adriana’s Church of Benevolent Light, several figures convened. A quick look at their clothing revealed nearly everyone present was connected to the Church.

Centered in an armchair sat Antonio, dressed in a simple white robe and a plain white cap. Though slated to return to Pace that morning, he remained in Adriana solely because of one awaited telegram.

Antonio sat relaxed, quietly reading a newspaper in his hands. The room’s wall clock showed it was half past twelve. Shortly before, Antonio had ordered a subordinate to dispatch a telegram to a specific address. He now waited patiently to see if the so-called Summer Tree telegram would respond as promptly as the secret letter he’d previously received. His manner showed no rush.

Suddenly, rapid footsteps shattered the quiet. Moments later, the door opened. A young man in light clerical attire stood on the threshold, holding a sheet of white paper, slightly out of breath as he addressed the room.

“Your Excellency Antonio, they have replied…”

“A reply already? That was unexpectedly fast…” Antonio murmured, lowering his paper upon hearing the young cleric. He glanced at the surrounding subordinates. Understanding immediately, they filed out silently. Soon, only Antonio in his chair and the young cleric remained. Antonio then spoke calmly to the cleric. “Proceed. What have they communicated? What information have they given us?”

“Your Excellency, according to the Summer Tree response, they are still actively uncovering spies of the Abyssian Cult. Thus far, they have identified several Abyssian infiltrators, gathering significant intelligence from them. The most critical piece so far relates to the recent sea tragedy, the sinking of the *Illuminating White Pearl*…”

As the young cleric spoke respectfully, Antonio’s eyebrow rose slightly. He continued, “The *Illuminating White Pearl*? The ship whose captain himself was an Abyssian believer?”

“Indeed, that very vessel,” the cleric confirmed. “Based on earlier intelligence from the Holy War Knights, the *Illuminating White Pearl*’s crew was deeply penetrated by the Abyssian cult, implicating them in its mysterious sinking… According to Summer Tree, following leads from an Abyssian collaborator posing as a maritime merchant, they captured Abyssian believers among his subordinates. Among them was a former crewman of the *Illuminating White Pearl*. From him, Summer Tree unexpectedly learned the ship’s true story. They report that the Abyssian believers aboard intended to sacrifice the ship’s over two thousand passengers to the sea monster, Haemorrhois. However,” the cleric referred to the densely written page, “the ritual was foiled when a crucial artifact, the Deep Blue Heart, was stolen by Thief K. Consequently, the sacrificial rite had to be aborted. The subsequent sinking of the *Illuminating White Pearl* also appears to have resulted from an extraordinary conflict erupting between this Thief K and the Abyssian Cult aboard the vessel…” The cleric finished his report respectfully.

Listening, Antonio paused briefly before murmuring, “Haemorrhois… Unforeseen… So this is the real cause behind the *Illuminating White Pearl* incident—a sacrifice to the Serpent God’s offspring… The Abyssian Cult hasn’t attempted a sacrifice of this magnitude in nearly three centuries. What could possibly be their aim in suddenly paying tribute to Haemorrhois? To lure it up from the Black Abyss?” Antonio frowned, clearly weighing this intelligence seriously, given its connection to a mass sacrifice and a great sea monster with divine blood. This warranted reporting to Sacred Mount. “This is indeed vital intelligence,” he acknowledged. “It seems Amanda’s letter was accurate. Beyond the *Illuminating White Pearl* matter, has Summer Tree conveyed anything else?”

The young cleric shook his head. “Nothing more for now. Summer Tree stated their counter-infiltration work continues. Should they acquire further relevant intelligence, they will proactively contact us again.”

“Is that so? It appears Summer Tree’s fervor against the Abyssian Cult runs deep. Being manipulated must indeed leave a sour taste…” Antonio reflected.

“Their passionate opposition to Abyssia might be fueled by a desire to present an offering, Your Eminence,” the cleric suggested. “Summer Tree likely still harbors anxieties about our potential rejection of their conversion.”

“Such concern is natural,” Antonio conceded, “but since all public signals of acceptance are widespread now, reversal is impossible. The specifics of this *Illuminating White Pearl* intelligence are significant. Go below and telegraph the details to Sacred Mount. Once everything is settled, we depart.”

“Yes…” The young cleric responded respectfully and withdrew immediately. Silence reclaimed the room. Pondering the new intelligence on the *Illuminating White Pearl*, Antonio, still seated, shifted his focus. It wasn’t the Abyssian believers or the sea monster Haemorrhois that occupied him now. It was Thief K, who had stolen the Deep Blue Heart and disrupted the ritual. ‘*Thief K… Current intelligence confirms she is undeniably a non-ordinary individual. Her infiltration of the *Illuminating White Pearl* and theft of the Deep Blue Heart—what was her motive? Was she specifically targeting Abyssia to sabotage their ritual? Or was it merely a theft? What purpose could those provocative calling cards possibly serve? Unaffiliated, no known sect ties—she is truly a mystery… Perhaps she possesses deeper insight into Abyssia’s motives? She might know why they sought to sacrifice to Haemorrhois…*’

As Antonio gazed out the window, deep in thought, another set of urgent footsteps echoed outside his door. Recognizing the distinct sound, Antonio turned. A light knock followed, accompanied by a man’s voice. “Is His Eminence Antonio within?” Antonio knew the voice belonged to Paul, head of Adriana’s Profound Concealment Unit, a man he’d met often during his stay. “I am here. Enter.”

Following Antonio’s response, the door opened. Paul, dressed in his usual suit, entered. Behind him followed Oliver, robed as a bishop—Adriana’s local church leader, whom Antonio had also come to know well these past days.

“Your Eminence! You are still here—truly wonderful news!” Bishop Oliver exclaimed with evident relief upon seeing Antonio. Observing their manner, Antonio’s eyes narrowed slightly as he inquired promptly. “I depart in a quarter hour. What urgent matter brings you both?”

“It is this, Your Eminence,” Oliver began. “Earlier today, Net Flow Cathedral, the Benevolent Light Church, and the Profound Concealment Unit headquarters all received these items simultaneously. Please see.” With that, Oliver produced a white card from his pocket and handed it to Antonio. Turning it over, Antonio found brief writing. Reading it, his expression tightened.

> “When night embraces the city once more, I shall ascend Net Flow’s spire to behold Immanuel’s greatest legacy upon this shore. Thief K.”

“This is… Thief K’s calling card?” Antonio murmured, frowning as he studied the text. Mere moments ago, his thoughts had turned to Thief K, and now her card appeared? “Precisely, Thief K! That Thief K mentioned in the newspapers!” Paul stated firmly. “She is indeed a non-ordinary thief. Now she targets the Crown of Immanuel, Your Eminence.” Having read the newspaper accounts of the *Illuminating White Pearl* and Thief K, Paul understood the thief’s intent instantly upon seeing the card. This notorious non-ordinary thief was declaring a new objective—Adriana’s treasured artifact displayed at Net Flow Cathedral: the Crown of Immanuel!

“This style of card… indeed matches the reported method of Thief K…” Antonio continued, examining it. “Her sights are now set on the Crown of Immanuel… which suggests… Was her aim always simply precious artifacts?”

Paul spoke again, reviewing the text: “Eminence, these cards were found at the same time around noon today at Net Flow Cathedral, the Benevolent Light Church, and the Profound Concealment Unit HQ. A prank is entirely out of the question. Thief K sent this card now, seizing this precise moment, clearly intending to avoid Your Eminence’s presence.”

“Commissioner Paul is correct,” Oliver agreed, nodding. “This Thief K clearly fears Your Eminence Antonio. Therefore, she dared not reveal herself while you remained in Adriana. But the instant the papers announced your departure, she emerged to deliver this so-called calling card. However,” Oliver’s tone hardened, “she certainly could not have anticipated Your Eminence being unexpectedly delayed for a full morning. When she sent her notice, you were still here. A colossal error on her part! Though her reasons for forewarning her targets remain unclear, such brazen aggression against the Crown of Immanuel is the gravest insult to us! Your Eminence Antonio, might you postpone your departure by half a day? Lend us your strength tonight to apprehend this insolent thief!”

Oliver made his request with utmost gravity. Antonio remained silent for a long moment before speaking slowly, “I never imagined… a mere half-day’s delay would yield such an event. Fortuitously… I too have questions I wish to pose directly to this Thief K, given the chance. To encounter her in person this very night… would be ideal…” His gaze lingered on the card. Hearing this, Paul and Oliver exchanged a knowing look. Both understood that the infamous non-ordinary thief, recently risen to prominence, would find no escape this night. To send her calling card specifically *after* the Archbishop’s announced departure, only for it to land on his desk during his unexpected delay… In Paul and Oliver’s view, fortune itself had deserted Thief K.

……

Time advanced rapidly. The afternoon slipped away quickly. As the sun sank beneath the western horizon, Adriana gradually settled into quiet once more.

Darkness draped the Adriana skyline. Under night’s cover, countless lights sparked to life. The lamps along the shores glimmered alongside their reflections dancing on the water’s surface, creating a scene unique to Adriana’s nocturnal vista.

On a cliffside some distance from the city center, along Adriana’s outskirts, a group of figures gathered. Clad in varied attire, men and women of different ages, a dozen silhouettes stood near the cliff edge. By the faint moonlight, they looked down at the churning sea crashing against the sheer rock face below. Every face held a note of solemnity.

At the group’s center stood two men in their thirties. One had dense stubble, wore a trench coat, his skin deeply weathered. The other wore a headband, draped in robes, a curved saber at his hip.

“What time is it, Moffat? Has he arrived?” Shouting over the roar of the sea wind, the stubble-bearded man asked the one with the saber. The other answered promptly.

“Patience, Semir. Our message reached him. He will be here soon. We need only wait…

“Wait… but this is a sheer cliff. No vessel could possibly land here… Are you certain this is the meeting place?” Semir pressed skeptically. Moffat offered only a knowing smile. “Hmph… Ship? You don’t truly think he still needs *ships* to cross the sea, do you, Semir…”

Before Moffat finished, a violent explosion of seawater erupted against the cliff face below. The group spun towards the sound. A dark shape surged from the heart of a towering geyser of spray, vaulting meters into the air above the waves, then arced downwards. It landed behind them with a thunderous crash.

The impact’s force shook the group. They whirled around amid swirling dust kicked up by the landing. As the grit settled, a grotesque figure took form.

The creature stood roughly humanoid but monstrously distorted, towering over two meters. Its body was armored with tiny, pale grey scales. A massive, jagged dorsal fin bristled along its spine. Where a human head should be grinned the triangular skull of a shark, its gaping maw a nightmare of layered, razor-sharp fangs. Scar-like gills pulsed rhythmically on its cheeks, gasping in the open air. The entity facing them was unmistakably a half-man, half-shark horror—a sharkman. An instinctive ripple of terrified recoil swept the humans; several stumbled back involuntarily.

Ignoring the tense group, the newly arrived horror—the “Sharkman”—flexed its monstrous limbs, knuckles cracking under fibrous muscle. It deliberately thumped its scaled chestplate. On impact, an immense, translucent specter wrenched itself from the creature’s torso. This colossal, spectral shark materialized in the air beside the physical beast, swirling with predatory languor. As the phantom separated, a metamorphosis seized the sharkman. Its physique visibly shrank; scales rippled and slid away like shed armor. Dorsal and pectoral fins dissolved into flesh. Its nightmarish shark muzzle distorted, retracting into a human face. Within moments, the alien horror had shed its monstrous form. A man stood before them now.