Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Novel - Chapter 469

Chapter 469**Ivigt, Adriat.**

Morning sunlight filtered into a quiet waterfront café in Adriat, where Dorothy and Nevis sat tucked away at a private corner table. Dorothy slowly enjoyed her coffee, her eyes fixed on Nevis with calm attentiveness.

In front of Nevis lay a heavy, open book. Holding a fountain pen, she swiftly penned lines across the page, occasionally pausing to re-read before continuing.

This was Dorothy’s copy of the *Sea of Literature Navigation Record*. Nevis was using it to send messages to Nunot, still situated far away in Tivian. As the heir of the Boyle family, only she had the authority and emotional leverage to gain Nunot’s full cooperation in aiding Adelle’s plans.

Nevis’s concentration grew sharper with every minute, her writing becoming faster and more urgent. Dorothy, meanwhile, contentedly observed the harbor beyond the window as she sipped her coffee. At last, Nevis dropped the pen and exhaled deeply.

“There. Grandfather Nunot is convinced. He’ll throw his support behind their operations going forward.” She handed the *Sea of Literature Navigation Record* to Dorothy. Dorothy, momentarily distracted by a boat gliding past outside, turned back and accepted the book.

“Already done? That’s wonderful. Much appreciated,” she replied calmly, giving the written contents a brief glance before Nevis spoke again.

“No, truly, I should be thanking you, Miss Dorothy. If not for you, Grandfather Nunot might not have survived. I was too far away to act…” Her tone faltered slightly with regret. Dorothy responded in her usual unfazed manner.

“It was a small thing. With those notes still in the steward’s care, I couldn’t very well let anything happen to him. They’re essential, aren’t they? For *your* White Ash ritual, Senior Nevis.”

Dorothy’s words struck a nerve. Nevis hadn’t grasped just how seriously she was being treated within the Rose Cross. Would they really go so far as to eliminate a White Ash operative simply to preserve her path to advancement? She was still in the Black Earth stage—barely a novice! Had she been placed on some vital cultivation trajectory without knowing?

The realization made her stomach twist slightly. The notion that she might already be under the eyes of the order’s upper ranks unsettled her. Dorothy quietly took another sip of her drink.

“By the way,” Dorothy added, “aside from securing the steward’s assistance, did you get to the bottom of why those raiders went after him? Surely it wasn’t your scepter they were targeting?”

“It was exactly the Gold Scepter,” Nevis confirmed. “I questioned Grandfather Nunot. He told me the treasure-hunters who abducted him were acting under pressure from an ancient revenant. They stumbled across it while looting tombs in North Ufia and were cursed by it. The specter used that curse to force them into coming to Tivian and stealing our scepter. When they failed to find the hidden vault, they grabbed Grandfather instead.”

“So, it really was connected to *that* figure…” Dorothy murmured.

Nevis had just confirmed Dorothy’s earlier assumption. The group had been sent by the Tomb Sand Prince—but not as faithful agents. They were terrified pawns, coerced through dark means into doing the specter’s bidding.

‘So the Deathless Prince knows exactly where the Boyle estate lies… likely sensed it the moment the scepter’s protective field weakened and the curse kicked in. Its range must be extraordinary—pinpointing even those affected across vast distances.<e/m>

‘Yet it didn’t come in person. Months passed before it enslaved raiders to retrieve the scepter on its behalf. That suggests either it’s wary of the Radiance Grand Archbishop’s Ranked Sight… or it’s physically confined, unable to travel freely.<e/m>

‘And the second seems far more plausible. Fear alone wouldn’t stop it from acting outside major cities. It could still amass strength and dispatch its own followers—true believers, not reluctant mercenaries dragged halfway across the continent.<e/m>

‘Which means… the Deathless Prince is still operating under serious constraints. It’s not free. It lacks the ability to establish even a basic organization.’<e/m>

Dorothy dissected the scenario in her mind. A being of such caliber should have no trouble building a shadowy cult. If it had done so upon identifying the Boyle manor’s location, it could have launched a synchronized attack with White Ash operatives to secure the scepter.

But that never happened. Months passed before anything moved—and only then, it turned to unlucky raiders it cursed into obedience. That alone exposed its current inability to create a loyal force, relying instead on chance trespassers.

From this, Dorothy concluded its mobility must be extremely limited—probably locked within a particular ruin or tomb in North Ufia, unable to venture into populated areas. The only humans it encountered were tomb raiders—like Azam of the Sand Scythe Society, or Nunot’s captors.

The insight reassured her. Her upcoming travel to North Ufia felt less daunting now, knowing the threat was largely stationary. Only sheer misfortune—walking into the wrong ruin—would put her in real peril.

She took another relaxed sip of coffee. Nevis resumed speaking.

“Miss Dorothy, there’s something else. Grandfather Nunot agreed to give me the rest of Grandfather’s notes. He said, under the circumstances, he no longer has the heart to stop me. In fact, he’s urging me to advance faster now.”

“Really? That’s great news! With those notes in hand, you can finally devote yourself to your next breakthrough.” Dorothy smiled, unfazed by the revelation. She’d predicted Nunot would change his mind.

His hesitation had stemmed from fear—concern over how fast Nevis was advancing, and a general mistrust of the Rose Cross. He’d doubted their teachings, worried they’d push Nevis into danger. But her rescue, combined with the looming menace of the Deathless Prince, had altered his priorities. With those factors in play, what reason did he have left to resist?

“I’ve barely been in Black Earth for three months, and now I’m preparing for White Ash…” Nevis murmured, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. “Miss Dorothy, I really don’t know much about the non-ordinary world… but isn’t this kind of fast?”

“Fast?” Dorothy said sharply. “You think *this* is fast? Three months just to *start* preparing? Others are already climbing. Don’t lose your edge, Senior Nevis.”

“Right… I understand,” Nevis replied quietly, dropping her gaze. Dorothy knew the kind of person she was—someone likely to ease up if she thought she was ahead. That couldn’t happen. Setting a higher benchmark for advancement would keep her pushing herself. That illusion of urgency was a useful tool.

—

After parting ways, Dorothy returned to her hotel in Adriat. Over the next few days, she kept close watch on what was unfolding back in Tivian.

Once Nunot’s health had stabilized, preparations were made for his return to the Boyle estate. But since his case had already caught police attention, his reappearance had to be handled with precision to avoid attracting scrutiny from both law enforcement and the Security Bureau.

Through coordination with Adelle, two of the dead raiders were reanimated through corpse puppet techniques. They staged a fake kidnapping—taking Nunot into a carriage. That same night, they made sure to be seen by a patrol in East Tivian.

The officers, alert due to a recent alert involving foreign individuals resembling North Ufian features, stopped the vehicle. Inside, they found Nunot. The two corpse puppets attempted to escape and were shot down—one was confirmed destroyed.

Following this, the “rescued” steward effusively thanked the officers. It was a textbook success—a high-profile kidnapping solved swiftly, a major win for the precinct.

Naturally, the credit went to the sharp-witted secret policeman who had previously provided the profile of the culprits. The precinct chief had confirmed with Security Bureau headquarters that the officer’s name was Grey.

In Pritter, secret police like Grey can legally interfere in civil investigations when they believe a case may intersect with non-ordinary phenomena. Grey had exercised this right in the Boyle case, citing his personal discovery of talismanic traces near the estate. Bureau investigators later assessed the situation. Based on Nunot’s account and the belongings of the corpses, they determined the group had minimal ties to the non-ordinary—they were essentially looters who hoped to sell occult antiques to underground buyers.

The Bureau classified the gang as new arrivals in Pritter, and the Boyles as their first targets. Nunot described escaping execution by offering to lead them to other valuable collections.

He swore that the Boyles weren’t hiding any secrets—they’d only attracted attention because of their history as collectors. The Bureau wasn’t entirely convinced but conducted a thorough paranormal scan. They found no anomalies. Nunot himself, stripped of his belongings and scanned by Glow Lamps, was confirmed to be ordinary.

So, the case was closed. The Boyles were cleared. Just a wealthy family targeted by greedy raiders seeking valuable artifacts.

The manor’s deeper secrets, hidden expertly by Davis, remained undetected—even by Atif, a skilled White Ash raider. So, the Bureau’s Black Earth investigators found nothing. As for Nunot, Dorothy had intervened directly: she’d placed a puppet sigil beneath his tongue and used a soul thread to transmit the Concealment Ring’s power, letting him pass undetected beneath the Glow Lamps despite carrying no tools.

With the matter closed, no further investigation threatened the Boyles. Grey was officially praised for exposing a loosely occult-linked gang before they could gain a foothold in Tivian. He accepted the recognition—but he was far more interested in the rewards secured through Adelle.

Almost all of Atif’s gear—excluding the Soul-Recontaining Bone Fragments—was handed over to Grey. The spoils included small Spirit Energy containers of the Stone, Lamp, and Shadow types; various talismans (Spirit Repulsion, Spirit Seal, Earth Hearing, Earthbinding, Body Concealment); obscure grave-robbing tools; high-grade poisons; and a significant stash of currency.

What caught Grey’s attention most, however, was Atif’s compact projectile launcher. It was built into a concealed forearm sheath and revealed exceptional craftsmanship upon closer inspection.

Clearly a non-ordinary creation, it employed principles similar to Attribute Sublimation Magic Boxes, allowing it to hold far more internally than its size suggested.

It carried a cache of rapid-fire darts, a retractable wrist blade over an inch long, and even a grappling hook launcher. All embedded in a sleek, streamlined mechanism—a true masterpiece of design.