Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 463

Chapter463**Tivian East District, near Feiteng Theatre.**

At midday, inside a luxurious street-side bar, Adel occupied a secluded booth. Concealed by sunglasses and a stylish broad-brimmed hat, she wore an elegant dress and contemplated a petite plate of artfully presented cake. A goblet of red wine tilted gently in her grasp.

“My, my… It appears my services are required once more…” She murmured into her wine, observing text manifest on the magazine page laid open before her.

‘So soon after the last plea for aid. This detective certainly finds herself embroiled in predicaments with disturbing regularity…’

A pondering look touched her features. After brief consideration, Adel drew a slender fountain pen from her handbag and inscribed upon the magazine:

“Assistance is feasible. Yet, considering my recent substantial aid—facilitating contraband and sharing my teacher’s recollections… have you pondered offering some recompense, Detective Lady…?”

Adel paused, a faint smile on her lips, awaiting the response. Soon, sharp, meticulously formed characters appeared before her.

“Recompense can indeed be provided. I hold extensive intelligence concerning the faith of the Goddess of Plenty. This bears connection to your teacher and your own transcendent journey. It may aid your explorations toward ascension; I can furnish all this data if desired. Naturally, this intelligence carries cognitive toxicity. However, our fellowship possesses arcane techniques for effective resistance. I can petition the leadership to grant you this method. Employing it will permit you to safely examine various forbidden texts laden with cognitive poison, hastening your grasp of transcendent lore.”

Adel perused the message with keen interest. Sampling her cake, she wrote again:

“Materials on the Goddess of Plenty’s faith and methods to resist cognitive poison… These are undeniably alluring rewards. Yet, such a technique must be supremely valuable within your esteemed fellowship. Are you truly certain you can casually pledge it to an outsider? Are you confident in fully persuading your fellowship’s superiors to bestow this upon an external party?” Adel’s implication was transparent: as a Rose Cross cadre, could Dorothy genuinely ensure convincing its leadership? If not, such pledges were rash.

“Be at ease. If I pledge it, I possess the confidence to sway those above. You needn’t concern yourself with that,” Dorothy wrote rapidly from her distant hotel room, her reasoning clear: the Rose Cross’s upper and mid-level tiers *were* essentially her. Her word was absolute.

In the bar, a thoughtful gleam lit Adel’s eyes as she read the reply. She continued writing:

“Is that so… Given your emphatic assurance, further doubt would seem discourteous. Very well, I agree to assist. Ah… A shame. Had you lacked means to repay, I had prepared… an alternative, rather distinctive method of settlement…”

“Distinctive settlement? What might that entail?”

“Oh, nothing significant~ We might explore it later should rewards be unavailable another time. Presently, your request takes precedence. You require me to locate several foreigners within the East District, correct?”

Sidestepping Dorothy’s query, Adel moved forward. Dorothy promptly replied:

“Affirmative. Several individuals originating from North Ufia. They likely reached Tivian recently. Last night, they invaded a prominent residence in the Silver Blue Lane vicinity and abducted someone. Sea travel is the sole route from North Ufia to Tivian, meaning their initial operations must have been within the East District docks. Silver Blue Lane also lies within the East District. Considering your substantial sway there, I hoped you might offer modest support.”

Dorothy detailed the clues gleaned from the Boyle mansion. Reviewing the summarized characteristics, Adel gave a slight nod and wrote:

“Several North Ufian tomb raiders… While foreigners frequent the East District, those from North Ufia are comparatively scarce. Your clues are quite robust. If accurate, uncovering traces of these individuals should pose little difficulty for my connections.”

“Then I place it in your hands. I’ve also activated certain police assets to aid the search. Should they uncover any leads, I shall inform you immediately. Speed is paramount; our objective is the captive’s rescue.”

Dorothy stressed this gravely. Adel’s reply was swift:

“Naturally. I shall proceed with urgency. Upon receiving any intelligence, I will notify you instantly. Ensure our line remains open, Detective Lady.” Finishing this inscription, Adel secured her pen, closed the magazine, drained her wine, placed both into her bag, and departed.

–––

**Ivig, Adriana.**

In her hotel suite near the cathedral square, Dorothy set down her notebook, a wave of relief washing over her after reading Adel’s final confirmation in *The Sea of Literature Navigation Record*. With Adel engaged, she felt significantly more secure.

Adel was practically the shadow sovereign of East Tivian. Countless syndicates under Crimson Heart’s influence, which she commanded, magnified her reach throughout the district’s varied corners. To locate someone there, Adel’s aid was indisputably the swiftest path.

Concurrently, Dorothy had employed Grey’s resources to involve East Tivian’s police force in the collaborative hunt. With both the underworld and the official channels exerting simultaneous pressure, Dorothy found it difficult to believe five foreigners with such distinct features could evade detection indefinitely.

‘In a way… I suppose I bridge both realms…’

Seated on her sofa, Dorothy reflected. Her anxiety had shifted from locating the raiders to whether Nuno would endure suffering before they were found. This group had seized Nuno specifically for the golden scepter and the method to access the Boyle family vault. Once captured, he would likely face brutal interrogation. However, given Nuno’s profound loyalty to Davis, mere physical torment probably wouldn’t swiftly break his resolve.

But these were no ordinary thieves. They were “Silence” Path non-ordinals. To extract deeply buried secrets from practitioners of “Silence,” violent interrogation paled beside a more direct approach: interrogating the soul itself.

Yes, Dorothy feared Nuno might simply be killed and his spirit questioned. If these treasure raiders adopted this pragmatic tactic, it could already be too late. Nuno might be deceased. His captors might have already extracted the secret from his soul.

This was Dorothy’s gravest concern; Nuno’s death would render recovering Davis’s remaining notebooks exceedingly arduous.

‘*Sigh…* Nevertheless, progress is made. Time to update Nevis…’

Releasing a long breath, Dorothy reopened her communication page with Nevis. Since she was investigating, the family warranted being kept informed. She relayed her findings on the raiders’ identities, purpose, the uncovered clues, and her current actions.

Nevis had been pacing anxiously in her hotel room since the urgent call from home. Reading Dorothy’s message finally eased some tension. Witnessing the Rose Cross’s power already active in Tivian provided a sliver of reassurance. Regarding Nuno’s potential death and spiritual interrogation, however, Nevis held specific knowledge. Her reply to Dorothy directly suggested Nuno’s soul might be shielded.

“What? His soul is protected?” Dorothy, in her room, stared at Nevis’s words in surprise. A soul being ‘protected’ was a novel concept.

“Correct. I learned this from Granpa’s notes. Granpa described how North Ufian grave robbers primarily confront threats like traps, guardians, undead, and curses within perilous tombs.
“Though equally fatal, the perils differ. Traps and guardians kill, but they seldom harm the soul. Robbers slain by protectors or tomb creatures typically dissipate normally into the Shadow Realm, journeying to the River’s End – termed their Path to the End in the New World, returning to the Great Soul. Yet, falling prey to undead or curses alters everything. These menace both life and spirit directly!
“Undead haunting ancient tombs consume the souls of the deceased. Souls afflicted by curses perish enslaved, bound as tormented tomb sentinels. Their daily agony is inescapable. This plight was worsened by raider custom: infighting followed by enforced soul enslavement. Consequently, grave raiders devised myriad protective arts.
“Tomb raiders craved protection. Should death claim them, their souls evade torment, descending into the Shadow Realm’s depths, reaching a place they named the Destination, akin to ordinary mortals.
“Granpa stood prominent among them, naturally mastering such arts. His notes state he designed soul-warding sigils. Those bearing such a mark, upon death, find their souls sheltered, flowing swiftly into the Deep Shadow, inaccessible to spiritual interrogators.
“These sigils counter tomb raider techniques. They function through the bearer’s inherent power, making them feeble against ordinary folk or other paths, yet exceptionally potent against ‘Silence’ non-ordinals.
“Nuno Granpa is a ‘Silence’ Path Apprentice. My granpa mastered such sigils; he undoubtedly marked others besides himself. The utterly devoted Nuno Granpa unquestionably possesses one.
“Therefore, Miss Dorothy, set your worry aside. While the sigil holds, Nuno Granpa’s soul remains guarded. Those raiders might slay him, yet summoning his spirit is impossible! Unless they first dismantle his sigil, *then* kill him to access his spirit—but the sigil’s very creation stemmed from tomb raider conflicts, and mutual enslavement spurred its refinement. Naturally, breaching it won’t be swift in these brief moments! I deduce Nuno Granpa still lives!
“The brigands seeking the scepter’s secrets face two paths: extreme torture to shatter Granpa Nuno’s will, or dismantling the Sigil before execution and then querying his soul. Either endeavor consumes substantial time. Miss Dorothy, I believe we have ample time!”

The text materialized in Dorothy’s notebook. Reading it brought a surge of relief.
‘A soul-warding sigil? That makes perfect sense. Why *wouldn’t* masters of spiritual manipulation develop defenses against that same craft? Such precautions are only logical…
‘Per Nevis, Nuno likely survives. I must intensify the pursuit… We must retrieve him before the Sigil fails or agony breaks him!’
Sharpened urgency flared within Dorothy. Yet, geographically stranded in Ivig, her options remained confined to awaiting word from Adel and Grey.

–––

Time surged forward relentlessly. Sun and moon traversed Tivian’s sky. Day pursued night as a full cycle elapsed.

Laboring over her almanac for remote orchestration, Dorothy abandoned her travel plans. Confined to her apartment, she monitored communications flooding in from both fronts. The dual forces of underworld and police moved with startling rapidity. Within barely thirty hours, Dorothy gathered pivotal intelligence.

East Tivian police officers, acting on Grey’s directives, probed port district records concerning five North Ufian arrivals. Their investigation yielded a lead at a hired carriage depot within the docks.
A coachman recalled encountering foreigners matching the description around noon five days prior. He witnessed five foreigners renting two coaches near Silver Blue Lane, burdened with substantial tool sacks. Most spoke incomprehensibly; only one spoke Prittic with a distinct, lilting accent. The coachman lamented one especially ill-tempered member who shouted vehemently during the journey, perhaps cursing the weather or air quality. Scratches marred his coach door from clashing baggage, yet fear stifled complaint against such formidable figures.
This account steered police towards the exact drop-off neighborhood. Subsequent inquiries uncovered a clothing shop that sold bulkier garments to customers seemingly matching those foreigners nearby. Tracing adjacent streets revealed their former lodging: a boarding house close by. Proprietors confirmed a temporary lease but noted a critical departure: they checked out precisely two nights prior—directly coinciding with the Coronation Night preceding the Boyle mansion break-in.

Thereafter, police efforts stalled. Dorothy anticipated this; after kidnapping someone like Nuno, such bravos would shun public accommodation. Securing privacy for harsh interrogation or deliberate sigil-breaking demanded profound isolation, far from prying eyes. Moreover, lacking the coveted golden scepter meant remaining within Tivian. They would burrow deep into hiding, eagerly awaiting the knowledge within Nuno concerning that artifact.
Their trail vanished beneath the surface. Police reconnaissance faltered momentarily. Yet Dorothy maintained her strategy impeccably. Immediately channeling the police findings into Adel’s awaiting network amplified the shadow search. Operating beyond legal bounds, Adel commanded immense assets. Her directives cascaded through allied syndicates like an unstoppable tide toward the pertinent sector: the domain of the Quickcarry Gang.
A minor outfit handling unregistered haulage, Quickcarry specialized in moving illicit goods or traversing routes somewhat perilous for standard couriers. They were embedded within Tivian East’s extensive smuggling network alongside other underground elements.
Armed with Dorothy’s clue about multiple foreigners requiring forced transport, Adel instantly leveraged her influence. A dominant syndicate pressured the minor gang. Facing superiors, defiance was unthinkable; Quickcarry offered immediate, full disclosure of recent dealings. Among the revelations: a recent job involving dark-skinned foreigners hiring carriage services specifically for a struggling, wrapped parcel, accompanied by five riders, roughly two days past. Expressing reluctant compliance driven by heavy payment that discouraged questions, Tivanian drivers transported the bundle to its designated destination: Blackwater Street in the South District.
An urban wilderness where lawlessness prevailed; one of Tivian South’s intensely chaotic zones scarcely governed, frequently favored to stash criminality far beyond doubtful scrutiny.

…

*Urgh… Tomorrow heralds a new month.* Coinciding perfectly with Labour Day festivities.* Given personal milestones already achieved this cycle,* initiating monthly respite seems entirely warranted.

Current narrative obstruction proves quite formidable,* thus permitting temporary release is wholly fitting.* Pattern mirrors prior conventions without deviation.* Kindly accept this interim apology, patient readers.

State thus clarified.* Yours humbly seeks nightly rest shortly.* Anticipated swift return looms just beyond the immediate dusk.* Closing remarks bear sincere wishes:* joyous celebrations abound throughout Labour Festival!