Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Chapter 735 : Phantasmal Revelation

Southwestern Pritt, Igwynt.

Under the night sky, cold and luminous moonlight bathed the darkened land. In the outskirts of Igwynt, the spider-headed Anecdotal Body controlled by the Spider Queen’s will began to collapse under Artcheli’s assault.

The Anecdotal Body, bound by the Chains of Fate, had its horrifying and hateful head shattered by a beam from Artcheli’s firearm. The fractured illusory skull dispersed into wraith-like wisps that drifted outward.

The moment the spider-head was destroyed, the Spider Queen’s influence sharply declined. Seeing this, Dorothy withdrew the Chains of Fate from the Anecdotal Body and began observing its state. She noticed a faint silver glow emerging from the form, along with subtle changes in the aura it emitted. Sensing this shift, Artcheli—who had been preparing to step forward and strike again—suddenly paused, her expression growing somber as she stared at the body.

The headless Anecdotal Body, now freed of both the spider-head and the entangling chains, began to destabilize once more. Its semi-transparent body flickered uncontrollably, as if on the verge of collapse. At the head, a series of new images continuously emerged and flashed rapidly—some bearing the blurry visage of a woman, others repeating the grotesque spider-head.

Seeing this, Dorothy understood clearly: the Spider Queen’s influence hadn’t fully dissipated. Both she and Artcheli waited tensely, watching for the form’s final stabilization.

Eventually, when the form stabilized at last, the visage that emerged was that of a normal woman’s face, flickering faintly but not monstrous. Seeing this, Dorothy let out a quiet sigh of relief. Artcheli, upon witnessing it, solemnly bowed her head in reverence—offering a silent prayer.

“O Great Queen of the Night Sky, have You reclaimed dominion over this place? Are You now able to answer our doubts?”

Upon seeing Artcheli’s action, Dorothy also bowed slightly toward the Anecdotal Body and spoke. She needed to confirm whether the Mirror Moon Goddess could now communicate with them properly.

The Anecdotal Body, bathed in moonlight, opened its mouth as if to speak. But what came forth was nothing but a cascade of harsh, grating noise. Realizing she couldn’t vocalize, the form began to weave threads of light before her, seemingly trying to form words. But midway through, the threads abruptly scattered and faded.

It seemed the form was still unable to convey her message clearly. Within and around her, dark red shadows still writhed.

“The Spider Queen’s influence hasn’t fully lifted. She’s still interfering with Mirror Moon’s power projection…”

Dorothy’s heart sank at this realization. After all the effort to purge the Spider Queen’s influence, Mirror Moon was still unable to communicate properly—it made everything feel almost in vain.

Realizing her message wasn’t getting through, the Anecdotal Body hesitated for a moment. Then, as though struggling against a mighty force, she slowly raised a hand—pointing eastward.

The moment Dorothy saw that gesture, a location surfaced in her mind: Tivian.

Once the pointing gesture was complete, the Anecdotal Body quietly lowered her hand. She then gave both Dorothy and Artcheli a peculiar look—first at Dorothy, then at Artcheli. As the gaze met hers, Dorothy’s mind was suddenly struck by three distinct visions.

The first was of a towering forest composed of colossal trees—thick, branchless trunks rose from dreamlike, multicolored meadows, piercing the pale white mist above. Within the dense fog, far in the forest’s depths, loomed the silhouette of a massive oval-shaped object. Suspended midair between the trees, it was ensnared by countless fine strands. From this imagery emanated a sense of silence, mystery, and profound depth.

The second vision revealed a boundless, barren wasteland under a gray sky—an endless gobi desert. Scattered across this land stood wind-eroded rock formations of strange and grotesque shapes, resembling massive stone soldiers in various poses. At the desert’s center sat a modest stone dais. Upon it rested a stone throne—and on that throne sat a figure cloaked in tattered chainmail and robes. His face was hidden by a helm, a rusted crown atop his head. Hunched over, he clutched a longsword plunged into the stone platform. The atmosphere was steeped in loneliness, desolation, and decay.

The final vision was a hazy golden radiance, within which a majestic scepter shimmered. The scepter’s body was mostly white, adorned with gold and jewels. At its head was a small figurine—an indistinct robed man with arms outstretched like a cruciform icon. The scepter exuded holiness and power.

During this third vision, Dorothy noticed slight tremors and distortions in the image. But soon after, it all returned to calm—like nothing had happened.

After the visions faded one after another, the Anecdotal Body silently looked at the two girls. Finally, she locked eyes with Dorothy—gazing at her with meaning that ran deep—before slowly dissipating into light, vanishing from the world.

“Was that… an illusion?!”

Dorothy stood frozen. After witnessing those images, her heart grew heavy with thought.

“Was Mirror Moon trying to convey something through these visions? If She can show illusions like this, why not something more specific? Or… are these not mere illusions, but projections of something real? Is She showing us things that exist somewhere? But for what purpose?”

Furrowing her brow, Dorothy pondered. The scenes shown left her both intrigued and perplexed—she felt compelled to interpret them.

The first vision was the clearest to her—that scene had to be from the Dreamscape. The forest, blanketed in unusual mist and centered around a massive oval shadow, reminded her of only one thing: the Cocoon of Panmoth.

The Blackdream Hunting Pack’s god—Panmoth—was said to slumber deep within the Dreamscape, encased in its cocoon. The Pack’s mission had always been to trigger its metamorphosis and bring forth their dream god. That massive suspended oval… was very likely Panmoth’s cocoon.

The second scene was harder to identify. Dorothy had never seen a gobi desert scattered with such bizarre wind-carved stones. Nor did she recognize the withered king seated upon the stone throne. Judging by his armor’s design, she suspected it was of ancient Prittish style—similar to relics she’d seen in Duke Barrett’s research archives.

Though she had many theories, she couldn’t confirm any of them.

And the third vision? She couldn’t even guess. The ornate golden scepter was completely unfamiliar. Dorothy had never seen it before and had no impression of it whatsoever. The only symbolic clue she could detect was a faint trace of the Lantern motif—but beyond that, she knew nothing.

“The first vision... Panmoth’s cocoon. The second, an unknown withered king. The third, a scepter possibly related to the Lantern. Is there a connection between these three? What is Mirror Moon trying to tell me? And that direction She pointed—Tivian... Will I find answers there once I return?

“And during the third vision... something else happened too…”

Dorothy’s mind spun as she analyzed rapidly. But realizing she lacked enough information to draw any clear conclusions, she set the thoughts aside for now and turned to Artcheli. She too looked dazed and confused—it was clear she had been shown the same visions. Her current state wasn’t much better than Dorothy’s.

“Queen of the Night Sky... Is She the Saintess? So that’s it... The Fourth Saint is in truth a heretical god…”

Eyes wide with shock, Artcheli thought this silently to herself. Hearing Dorothy refer to the Anecdotal Body as the Queen of the Night Sky had shaken her deeply—though none of it showed on her face.

Among those present, only Anna remained utterly lost, with no clue as to what had just occurred. Still holding her spear, she maintained a guarded stance toward Artcheli while glancing at Dorothy for direction—but Dorothy, at that moment, did not give any direct instruction.

Artcheli, who had apparently witnessed the same visions as Dorothy, stood in silence for a moment. After a brief spell of confusion, she lightly shook her head, seeming to set the thoughts aside, and turned to face Dorothy. Their eyes met—and the moment Anna noticed Artcheli looking her way, she instinctively tightened her grip on the spear, leveling it at her. After all, she had just finished an intense battle with this very person.

As Anna once again raised her weapon, Dorothy calmly extended her arm and blocked her path, gesturing for her to stand down. Anna hesitated for a moment, then gradually lowered her guard. Dorothy turned toward Artcheli and spoke plainly.

“Lady Artcheli, do you intend to continue fighting us like this?”

Artcheli let out a slow breath, then returned her weapon to the magical storage box and responded.

“Alone, I’d find it very difficult to capture all of you. I never expected such formidable individuals to be hiding in a small place like this…”

As she spoke, her eyes briefly lingered on Anna, whose power she had already witnessed, and on Dorothy, whose abilities she had just experienced firsthand. She clearly remembered the moment when Dorothy’s chains completely bound her in place and how those same chains had held the will vessel of a heretical god mere moments ago.

Artcheli could sense the higher-tier divine power lurking within Dorothy. If it came down to a head-on clash, there was no guarantee she could win against both her and Anna. And this wasn’t some suicidal mission that demanded completion at all costs—there was no need to push things further.

Most importantly… the girl before her had an undeniable connection to the god she revered. Her own powers were tied to that deity. If the goddess didn’t wish her to fight this person, then perhaps there was no need to continue the battle at all.

“Indeed. No one would’ve guessed that little Igwynt harbored such hidden dragons and crouching tigers,” Dorothy said with a faint smile.

“Just as I didn’t expect the Church’s Court of Secrets to show up here either, nor did I anticipate the Lady of Pain’s influence to extend into this place. Everything that happened just now… surprised us, too.”

Her tone had softened significantly. Artcheli then asked directly.

“You… the Saintess… or the Queen of the Night Sky—what’s your relationship? This so-called Rose Cross Order—is it the force She left behind in Pritt?”

“In a sense… yes, and no. The one with a close connection to the Queen of the Night Sky isn’t really the Rose Cross Order—it’s just me.”

Dorothy answered frankly, though she was well aware that a clear answer wouldn’t satisfy Artcheli, so she deliberately returned to her usual vague, elusive tone.

“So… you mean, you act according to the Queen’s will. You’re Her agent in Pritt,” Artcheli said meaningfully.

Dorothy nodded.

“Correct. I am Her Majesty’s ‘pawn’ in this land. I act according to Her revelations. Because I’m alone and without backing, I joined the Rose Cross Order to borrow their strength and operate under cover.

“As for my purpose—surely you’ve guessed a bit by now. The Lady of Pain’s influence is quietly spreading in Pritt. Her schemes are being brewed, and we cannot simply turn a blind eye…”

Her tone grew solemn. Artcheli responded immediately.

“Then… why did the Queen of the Night Sky not entrust this mission to us? We, the Court of Secrets of the Radiance Church, have far more resources and power to investigate. Why would She choose to rely on lone operatives like you instead?

“We’ve always venerated Her under the Saintess’s name—quietly, in secret. We regard Her as the Fourth Saint, beyond the official Three Saints. We’ve often received Her oracles. And now, facing the Lady of Pain’s conspiracy, She chooses you... not us?”

Her voice bore a subtle pressure, but Dorothy replied evenly.

“Lady Inquisitor, you need not test me. Her Majesty resides in the Eastern Nation of Night, bearing great responsibilities. She has no capacity to intervene in the far West. Even if you do revere Her under the Saintess’s name, She would not issue commands to you.

“Besides, the Court, for all its secrecy, still belongs to the Church—which is too high-profile. When a mission demands utmost secrecy, isn’t it better suited to an agent entirely unknown to the world?

“I know you’ve come to investigate the matter of the Crimson Holy Mother. But I’ll tell you honestly—we don’t know much about her either. We have no substantial connection to her. Our target has always been the Spider Queen. Our encounter with the Afterbirth cultist in this small city was merely incidental.”

Dorothy smiled gently. She was certain Artcheli’s claim about receiving oracles from Mirror Moon was a bluff. From her experience, Mirror Moon’s ability to project power westward was severely limited. Even here in Pritt, where Her lingering influence was strong, Dorothy needed to rely on the Fairy of the Lake anecdotal body to communicate. Elsewhere on the continent, it would be nearly impossible.

More importantly, if Mirror Moon truly communicated with Artcheli, would She have let her attack both Anna and herself? Dorothy couldn’t believe that—Mirror Moon had always valued her highly.

Artcheli, then, had only been testing her—probing whether Dorothy truly followed Mirror Moon’s will. And Dorothy’s reply had made her stance clear: everything she did was under the Queen’s command. Since the Church revered Mirror Moon as a hidden Saintess, Dorothy could use that association as both shield and leverage.

After a pause, Artcheli let out a slow breath and said:

“Very well… based on your appearance, I’ll believe—for now—that you are Her emissary.”

Hearing that, Dorothy blinked, then chuckled softly and removed her hood and mask, revealing her silver-white hair and delicate features.

“As expected, little tricks like this don’t work on someone from the Church’s upper ranks. I should’ve taken it off earlier—it’s easier to breathe, too.”

Artcheli examined her face and began to speak in a measured tone.

“Dorothea Mayschoss… Volunteer tutor during Anna Field’s time at the orphanage. Later visited Anna several times after her miraculous recovery and recognition as heir to House Field.

“Father: hunter from River Valley Village, County Igwynt. Deceased in a hunting accident. Mother: unknown and untraceable. Brother: Gregorius Mayschoss, promising Hunter from Igwynt’s Serenity Bureau. Distinguished in multiple missions. Once assigned to protect Anna Field—was wounded during a mystical incident. Later promoted to Tivian’s central Serenity Bureau. Dorothea herself was recommended by the school to study in Tivian.

“Technically speaking, you should still be attending secondary school in Tivian… perhaps just getting out of evening class now, Miss Mayschoss.”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Artcheli recited this calmly. Dorothy spread her hands in a half-smile and replied.

“If you hadn’t come investigating, I might still be in class right now, Lady Inquisitor. So, whose fault is it that I’ve fallen behind in my studies?”

She said it jokingly, unbothered by the fact that the Church had clearly investigated her. Given that they’d suspected Anna, it was only natural for them to investigate everyone close to her during that period. It made sense that she’d been looked into.

Still, despite being mentally prepared, hearing her personal data recited so precisely made her silently admit—the Church’s intelligence arm really was far better than the Serenity Bureau.

“Well, now that we’re acquainted, perhaps we can speak more frankly,” she continued.

“I’ll be honest with you—the Spider Queen’s plot has progressed significantly. Her Majesty’s influence in Pritt has been greatly diminished. I can no longer hear Her voice, even temporarily.

“Whatever the Spider Queen is planning next—it’s likely something big. We must act accordingly.

“I know your current priority is the Crimson Holy Mother case. But my advice is: put that aside for now and focus all efforts on investigating the Lady of Pain. I have a strong feeling their next move is coming soon—and it will happen in Tivian. That’s where our attention needs to be. What do you think?”

Dorothy turned to Artcheli and asked her opinion, to which Artcheli narrowed her eyes slightly and responded calmly.

"Are you really so sure I’d agree to cooperate with you? I was trying to arrest you not long ago..."

Dorothy smiled and replied straightforwardly.

"You were only pursuing us because of a minor misunderstanding... I can tell, Lady Inquisitor, that you’re someone who knows how to discern right from wrong and sees the bigger picture. After what just happened, I believe you can now clearly recognize who truly threatens the Church and this world—and who doesn’t.

"Compared to suspicious figures, I imagine you'd be more interested in dealing with those who are outright wicked... And in regard to the Lady of Pain, we stand on the same side. So why not cooperate—just a little?"

With a pleasant smile, Dorothy addressed Artcheli. After a moment of silence, Artcheli responded.

"Tivian, huh? That was my thought too. The place pointed out by the Saintess—it must’ve been there."

"Very well. I’ll return to Tivian as well. We can begin our investigation together. I’m confident the intel I have won’t disappoint you."

Dorothy said, inwardly brimming with satisfaction. When it came to handling the Eight-Spired Nest, she had successfully drawn the Church’s Court of Secrets to her side.

Compared to the Serenity Bureau—which was riddled with infiltration and dysfunction—the Court was far more competent. As long as Artcheli cooperated, Dorothy was confident they could settle the score with the Eight-Spired Nest in Tivian.

"Then I’ll look forward to seeing what kind of abilities the Saintess’s chosen emissary possesses. Leave me a way to contact you—we’ll meet again in Tivian."

Artcheli said steadily.

Dorothy smiled and pulled out a book from her magic box, handing it over.

"This works much better than your average contact method."

As she handed it over, Dorothy spoke plainly. Artcheli glanced at the book, then accepted it.

"Very well. One last thing, Lady Inquisitor. Because of Her Majesty’s mission, I’d prefer my identity remain hidden. Would you refrain from disclosing any details about me to the other cardinals?"

Looking Artcheli in the eye, Dorothy asked earnestly. Artcheli paused briefly before replying.

"I will discreetly inform the other cardinals of your existence, but I won’t reveal any specifics."

"That works. Thank you kindly…"

Dorothy let out a quiet sigh of relief. She wasn’t ready for the entire Cardinal Council to know about her. Some of them, the more rational ones, could be reasoned with—but others… were harder to predict. If they learned of her identity, there was no telling what targeted actions they might take behind the scenes.

Artcheli clearly understood her colleagues’ tendencies as well. To preserve this cooperation, she opted not to report Dorothy’s full identity—at least for now.

"Then it’s settled. Under star and moon, may our cooperation be a fruitful one, Lady Artcheli."

On the moonlit hilltop, now that everything had been negotiated, Dorothy extended her hand with a smile. Artcheli hesitated for a moment, then reached out and clasped it.

…

In the quiet outskirts of Igwynt under the moonlight, Dorothy and the now-unarmed Anna were strolling beside a small grove. As they walked, Anna spoke in awe.

"I never expected… such a powerful enemy would end up making peace with you, teacher. You’re incredible. I thought we’d be fighting her to the bitter end."

"Heh… This isn’t about whether I’m incredible or not—it’s just that the circumstances changed, and I adapted. Besides, it’s not like we’ve really become friends. We merely resolved a misunderstanding and found a chance to cooperate."

Dorothy replied as they walked.

"If anyone deserves credit for that, it’s probably the heretical god who interrupted your battle. As dangerous as that was, its appearance was the turning point. Without it, we might’ve really fought the Inquisitor to the death…"

"The Inquisitor… I didn’t expect someone so young-looking to hold such power and status in the Church. She can stand on equal footing with you, teacher. Not like me… I’m already twelve, and I’m still useless. If I didn’t rely on you, I’d be just a regular person…"

Anna spoke a little dejectedly, and upon seeing her expression, Dorothy responded frankly:

"Walking the path of the Beyonder isn’t necessarily a good thing. It’s power… but also peril. If it’s not a matter of fate, ordinary people have no need to step into the mystical world.

"I used to think that it would be just fine for you, Anna, to live a noble’s life in a peaceful place like Igwynt. You’re far too young to deliberately step into a world riddled with danger. But now I see I was wrong—once a person has left traces in the mystical world, it’s hard to completely cleanse them and return to the mundane world.

"What happened today was a lesson for me, too. I shouldn’t have hoped to pull you back into the ordinary. So from this day forward, I’ll formally begin guiding you into the Beyonder path. Remember—you must learn to properly control your strength."

She paused slightly in her steps and looked seriously at the girl before her. Upon hearing this, Anna’s eyes lit up—she leapt with joy and threw her arms around Dorothy.

"Really!? Thank you, teacher! Long live teacher!"

Being hugged by a student only slightly shorter than herself, Dorothy smiled and looked up at the night sky, thinking of a conversation she’d once had with Viagetta.

According to Viagetta, the bond between mentor and student was the most important connection among Beyonders within the Revelation system.

So for Anna—her first deeply imprinted student in this world—there was no doubt that she would become the second Revelation-aligned Beyonder in this world.

As Dorothy pondered this sentiment, Anna, still hugging her, was thinking something else entirely.

“Miss Mayschoss hasn’t really grown that much since she left for two years. Maybe it’s a body-type thing? If this keeps up, I’m going to outgrow her... a student taller than her teacher… hehehe…”

…

Central Main Continent, Holy Mount.

At night, the summit of Holy Mount remained bathed in radiant brilliance. Though the sky lacked sunlight, the surroundings shone as if it were broad daylight—illuminated by a warm, luminous glow.

The towering illusion of the Holy Mount Cathedral stood atop the broad, flat mountaintop. At the very peak of one of its highest spires, a mellow golden light source continuously emitted a gentle and comforting radiance, casting light across Holy Mount beneath the night sky.

On a balcony in the distance, twined with ivy and designed like a garden, Sister Vania knelt, clothed in her white nun’s habit, silently praying toward the direction of the Holy Mount Cathedral.

"Such piety, Sister Vania… The time you spend in prayer rivals that of some ascetics."

A voice called from behind her. Upon hearing it, Vania paused and stood up, turning toward the source. There, hovering behind her, was the gentle, spectral form of a nun—Ivy.

"Sister Ivy, how are you now? Are you feeling better?"

Vania asked directly, and Ivy responded frankly.

"My ship-body’s already been taken back to Beacon Port for repairs. I’m feeling much better now—thanks for asking. But what about you? Haven’t you grown tired of staying on Holy Mount all this time?"

With a soft smile, Ivy posed the question. Vania answered plainly.

"To reside in the Holy Land is a tremendous honor. How could I possibly feel weary of it?"

"That’s true… For most devout believers, this is the perfect place for contemplation. But you’re not like them, Sister Vania. You’re now Crimson-rank—you’re qualified to hold high positions within the Church. You could be a bishop, or even an archbishop, serving the Holy Church at the top levels.

"But with the Holy See absent... all the decisions that should’ve been made by His Eminence have been left to the Cardinal Council. And with the Council in such internal disarray, no one knows when your formal appointment will ever be finalized."

Ivy spoke with concern. Vania, now a Crimson-rank individual, was a key member of the Church—no longer free to act like she once could as a pilgrim nun. But because she had not yet received an official role or duties, she remained in limbo, stuck atop Holy Mount. Thanks to the internal squabbles of the Council, her promotion remained unresolved.

Vania’s situation was merely a microcosm of the political chaos currently unfolding on Holy Mount. With the Cardinal Council divided, numerous issues remained suspended without resolution.

"The Holy See… still hasn’t returned from the heavens? Just how long has it been now? Isn’t this becoming dangerous…?"

Vania asked, worry clouding her expression. Ivy replied gravely.

"The Holy See’s ascension has lasted over a year now. In the entire history of the Church, this is unprecedented. The last time such a long ascension occurred was four hundred years ago, on the eve of the Great Holy War—but even then, it lasted only nine months..."

Ivy’s voice carried a faint trace of unease.

"Of course, the Holy See’s absence will inevitably bring some complications. But don’t worry too much, Sister Vania. These are manageable problems. Though the cardinals are rife with discord, as long as no one crosses any fundamental lines, things won’t spiral out of control."

She said this while gazing up at the origin of that holy glow atop the distant cathedral.

"Besides, the Holy See left behind the Staff of Radiant Decree here on Holy Mount. With this divine armament guarding us, the Church will not fall into true calamity."