Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Western Suburbs of Igwynt, Underground of St. Amanda School.

In a spacious, dust-laden workshop, Aldrich, dressed as a janitor, sat on a chair, scrutinizing a piece of rough parchment in his hand. After glancing at it twice, he spoke to Dorothy, who stood before him.

"This is a Silent Sigil, a variant of the Shadow sigils. Once activated, it significantly dampens the sounds made by its user. Thieves love this kind of thing." As he spoke, Aldrich extended the sigil forward. Dorothy took it and casually handed Aldrich 20 pounds.

Now that the matter concerning the Crimson Eucharist was more or less settled, Dorothy had come to Aldrich to have him appraise the sigils she had obtained from the Field Manor. And now, the appraisal was complete.

As he watched Dorothy reclaim the sigil, a glimmer flashed in Aldrich’s eyes. Then, with a teasing smile, he spoke.

"Lately, the city has been making headlines nonstop. First, there was the Burton case, then the White Riverbank case, and now, just this noon, the attack on Viscount Field made the papers… It seems that every time one of these stories breaks, you end up at my place. Is that just a coincidence?"

Hearing Aldrich’s words, Dorothy blinked.

"If you think it is, then sure."

She responded nonchalantly.

She knew that while she could hide her peculiarities from most people, Aldrich was not one of them. To him, she was a walking bundle of anomalies. He was well aware that she was targeting the Crimson Eucharist, and there was no way he didn’t see the connection between the recent incidents and her actions.

"Then it must be."

Aldrich chuckled.

"To be honest, Miss Mayschoss, you're someone I just can’t seem to see through. I’ve lived a long life, but I’ve never met anyone so inscrutable."

He scrutinized the young woman before him once more, then continued, "Your actions seem to have been the key to the downfall of the Igwynt Crimson Eucharist. Under normal circumstances, I’d assume you were backed by a powerful organization. But strangely enough, your knowledge of the mysticism world is fairly limited—you seem like a mere novice who has just stepped into its depths. Nothing like someone with a formidable organization behind them...”

"Miss Mayschoss, I don’t easily take an interest in people, but I have to admit, the secrets you carry make me curious. Would you be willing to put a price on them? I can offer more than you can possibly imagine."

Aldrich’s words were solemn as he gazed at Dorothy. However, she barely hesitated before responding.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Aldrich, I don’t think I’m in such dire need of money that I have to sell something like this. Maybe in the future."

"Haha… The future, huh? Alright, then. I’ll be waiting."

Aldrich chuckled. He wasn’t surprised by her answer.

"Now then, Miss Mayschoss, your sigil has been appraised. Any other business you’d like to discuss?" Aldrich asked.

Dorothy responded without hesitation.

"I want more information on the Black Earth Rank. Mr. Aldrich, do you know of any advancement rituals for the Black-rank?"

"Black-rank intelligence, eh? Haha… Don’t tell me your spirituality has already accumulated to the point where you’re ready to advance?" Aldrich asked, raising a brow.

"Of course not. I just want to understand it ahead of time and prepare." Dorothy waved a hand dismissively.

"Hmm… That makes sense. Starting from the Black-rank, advancement rituals become quite troublesome. Preparing in advance is wise… But as for specific rituals, I’m afraid I only know of those for the Stone Pathway. You probably won’t be able to use them." Aldrich replied.

He wasn’t sure exactly which spirituality Dorothy possessed, but he was certain it wasn’t the same as his own—Stone.

"I see… That’s a shame. Then do you have any intelligence that might help in advancing to the Black-rank?" Dorothy asked, already considering her future promotion.

"Something to help with a Black-rank promotion? Let me think… Ah, yes. I have a mystical book here. There might be something in it that interests you."

Aldrich raised four fingers.

"400 pounds."

Dorothy wasn’t surprised by Aldrich’s usual way of doing business. She didn’t say much, simply preparing to pay. After all, her spirituality hadn’t fully accumulated yet—this was the perfect time to get ready.

…

Somewhere in the Suburbs of Igwynt.

In a graveyard, rows upon rows of pale white stone-carved tombstones stood across the vast greenery. Ravens perched on treetops, and only the occasional mourner wandered between the graves. The darkened sky carried a faint air of oppression.

On a pathway at the edge of the graveyard, two figures walked side by side. Both were men in their late thirties to early forties, clad in gray trench coats. One was taller, his face gaunt and nearly skeletal, his expression gloomy. The other was slightly shorter, sporting a rugged, stubbled face with a square jaw and a fierce demeanor.

"Oswan… What’s the situation on your end? Have you found anything?" The shorter man asked as they walked.

His companion promptly replied, "I’ve uncovered a few things. I probed the local mystic circles… Hmph, though I didn’t see a single real Beyonder, I suppose you could still call it a ‘mystic’ circle…”

"They say this city has someone called Grayhill who occasionally hosts mystic gatherings. He’s a real Beyonder and seems to be more than just an ordinary apprentice. According to Mr. Deer Skull, many of the White Craftsmen enforcers enjoy hosting mystic gatherings. I think there’s a good chance this guy is one of them."

"Grayhill… Holding mystic gatherings? That does sound suspicious…" The man named Goffrey nodded thoughtfully.

"Exactly. So I planned to track down one of his gatherings and attend. But it turns out that Grayhill hasn’t held a meeting in quite some time. Apparently, it’s because the mysticism world of this city has been in turmoil ever since a Chalice organization was suddenly wiped out. Things have been uneasy. Now I can’t even find Grayhill."

Oswan sighed with some frustration before turning to his companion.

"And what about you, Goffrey? You’ve been investigating for several days too."

"I’ve also found a few things. Unlike you, I not only inquired within the mystic circle but also kept an eye on local news."

As he spoke, Goffrey pulled out a stack of newspapers.

"Take a look at this."

He unfolded one of the newspapers. The front page bore a headline about the attack on Viscount Field.

"This is the biggest news in the city these past few days. A viscount was bitten to death by a wolf. His seven adopted children were all traumatized, but one of them miraculously recovered."

"A viscount killed by a wolf? What’s suspicious about that?"

"Plenty. You just mentioned it yourself—the reason the city’s mystic scene is unstable is because a Chalice organization was destroyed. This viscount? According to the circle I investigated, he was a member of that organization—possibly even its leader. Someone saw him being taken away by the local Black Dogs. Afterward, the Dogs launched a massive investigation, sealing off his properties in the city and the countryside. Anyone trying to get close was driven away."

"So? What does this dead Chalice organization viscount have to do with the person we’re looking for?" Oswan asked, still puzzled.

"Think about it. The newspaper says all of his adopted children went insane… But we know what Chalice organizations do. This isn’t just insanity—it’s the result of severe spiritual and alchemical poisoning."

"To confirm this, I infiltrated the local church hospital. Those kids were indeed placed in the Mystical Injury Ward. They were all heavily tainted by the Chalice organization’s influence."

Goffrey’s gaze darkened as he looked at Oswan and continued.

"And here’s the key: How did one of those kids suddenly recover miraculously?"

Oswan froze, then looked back at the newspaper. He found the section mentioning the only child who had recovered, his brows furrowing.

"You mean… The reason that kid recovered is because someone helped her? And the only one who could cleanse Chalice corruption so quickly must be a master of Stone?"

Oswan muttered.

Goffrey nodded seriously.

"That’s right. I believe that miraculously recovered child is the key to finding our target!"