Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

In the afternoon, the massive cruise ship continued its voyage across the sea. At this moment, Dorothy sat upright in her cabin, using a miniature corpse marionette to remotely observe the interior of another cabin. After a series of investigations and deductions, she had finally found her target—the other mystical cultists hiding aboard the ship. These individuals now showed clear anxiety in response to the crew's unusual activity.

"Are you sure all the traces were handled? If so, what exactly did those mundanes discover? Rumor among the passengers is that someone died onboard!"

In the cabin, the middle-aged man questioned the younger man in front of him. The younger man simply shrugged.

"How should I know? That corridor doesn't only have Nicado the idiot's cabin. What if it was some other mundane who got killed? I cleaned up Nicado's remains thoroughly—no way anyone found a body."

Responding to his companion's suspicion, the young man looked innocent. The middle-aged man paused slightly, then said in a stern tone.

"Regardless... our operation must remain strictly secret. We can't let anything leak to Moncarlo. No matter the reason those mundanes sealed off the corridor, we have to verify it ourselves."

"Fine... no time to waste. Let's split up and check things out."

The youth replied, and after a brief discussion about some specifics, the two men left the cabin separately to scout other areas of the ship.

Seeing this, Dorothy assigned specific micro-marionettes to tail each of them while she began pondering.

Dorothy thought quietly to herself. Having spent considerable time immersed in the mystical world, she was familiar with the term "blood cattle." According to records from the Crimson Eucharist, "blood cattle" or "meat cattle" referred to living humans secretly bred by the Chalice cults as consumable livestock. Unlike prey that were captured and eaten immediately, this type of human was raised through special methods to enhance the flavor or increase spiritual conversion efficiency—much like how gourmet cattle are raised for premium beef. Blood cattle were essentially human livestock carefully raised by the Chalice cults.

"So… what are these cultists planning to do with blood cattle in Moncarlo? I need to dig deeper, no matter the method—direct or indirect."

With that, Dorothy continued to monitor the two cultists' actions while devising a plan to deal with them.

…

Time passed quickly, and soon the sun was once again nearing the western sea horizon. The golden light of the setting sun shimmered over the ocean's surface.

After leaving their cabin, the two Chalice cultists immediately began moving around the ship, attempting to uncover why the corridor near Cabin 417 had been sealed off. Since the crew were all mundane humans, the cultists used covert means to acquire the information they needed.

After obtaining the intel, the two gathered at the rear of the ship, huddling in a secluded corner. Upon confirming that the incident had indeed occurred in Cabin 417, both displayed visible shock.

"It was Nicado's cabin—something happened in Nicado's cabin! And you said you cleaned everything up! They found the body—how is that 'clean'?!"

Standing near the railings, the middle-aged man scolded the youth in a low, reprimanding tone. The younger man looked distressed and visibly confused.

"No, that's impossible… I clearly dissolved Nicado's body—bones and all. There shouldn't have been any corpse left…"

Staring out at the rolling sea, the young man muttered in disbelief. The middle-aged man snapped again.

"Forget possible or impossible! Someone's dead on this ship—when we reach Moncarlo, the local authorities will launch a full investigation. And over there, the authorities aren't just mundane—they work hand-in-hand with the mystical side. If they dig into this, they could expose us! We need a plan!"

The young man's face grew serious. After glancing toward the setting sun, he replied.

"I definitely cleaned everything up. If a body suddenly appeared, it must be the work of another Beyonder—someone's trying to interfere. We need to find this person and make them take the fall for us…"

"Another Beyonder… but how do we find them?"

The older man frowned. The young man, already having formed a theory, continued.

"Didn't the mundanes say there's a 'detective' investigating the case? The moment that fake corpse showed up, this guy swooped in to run an investigation… don't you think that's just a little too convenient?"

"You're suggesting… that the detective is the interfering Beyonder?"

"Highly likely! The fake corpse appears, and suddenly he's calling in crew support. It's too convenient. He probably staged it to gain influence. We should cause some trouble for him—use him to distract the Moncarlo authorities. If that fails, we'll just kill him. Make him pay."

The young man stated confidently. After a moment of thought, the older man nodded, seemingly convinced.

Having agreed on a plan to target the so-called detective, the two left the rear of the ship and descended below deck to finalize the details in their cabin.

As they walked through a corridor and discussed, they turned into a quiet passageway—only to spot a lone figure ahead.

It was a woman wearing a plain, sand-colored North Ufigan robe, her face fully veiled by a headscarf and mask. She looked ordinary, like many other North Ufigan passengers on board. The two cultists paid her little attention as they approached.

As they passed each other—just when they were side-by-side—the woman's eyes under the veil suddenly sharpened. In the next instant, she exploded into motion. Spinning swiftly around, she drew a dagger from her robe and lunged straight at the middle-aged cultist from behind.

Just then, the middle-aged man also sensed the violent disturbance in the surrounding moisture. Aware of the danger, he furrowed his brow and immediately turned around—only to see a dagger flashing toward him in an aggressive thrust.

His eyes widened in shock, and he instinctively reached out, managing to grab the incoming blade. But the moment his hand touched the veiled North Ufigan woman's wrist, a jolt of stinging numbness shot through his entire body. His muscles spasmed, and the grip that had tightly seized her wrist failed to hold. The woman's formidable strength allowed her to break free in an instant.

"Wha—…"

Before the middle-aged man could react further, a cold gleam sliced across his throat. Eyes wide, he clutched at his neck and staggered backward, collapsing. Only at this moment did the young man beside him realize something was wrong.

Seeing the dagger in the North Ufigan woman's hand and his companion falling to the ground, the young man's eyes widened in alarm. He thrust out a hand, rapidly gathering several water arrows around his body, ready to strike.

At that instant, the woman who had just taken one life locked eyes with him. The moment their gazes met, a translucent phantom spirit erupted from her body and rushed toward him. Before he could release his water arrows, the female specter phased into his body.

Immediately, he felt his entire body freeze. His limbs no longer responded—his own body no longer obeyed his will. A powerful foreign will completely suppressed his ability to act, even preventing him from channeling his spirituality. Panic overwhelmed him.

"This is… Silence!"

What shocked him even more was that the North Ufigan woman—despite having her soul separated—did not fall limp. Even in a soulless state, she continued moving with blank eyes. In complete silence, she raised her dagger once more and reached for the terrified young man, who could only reflect his fear through his eyes.

In the end, the young man, with his throat crushed, lost consciousness and collapsed. The water arrows suspended in the air instantly dispersed. The female ghost then exited his body and returned to the woman, restoring clarity to her previously vacant eyes.

Just like that, the two Black Earth-rank Chalice Beyonders lay motionless on the floor. From the first strike to the youth's collapse, only ten seconds had passed. Observing it all, the woman let out a long breath.

"Done… That fast? Were they just weak… or did I get stronger?"

Examining her own body, Nephthys murmured in disbelief at her sudden surge in strength. At that moment, a familiar voice echoed in her mind.

"It's done. Good. No one's around—clean up quickly. We've got more work to do..."

"Oh…"

Hearing Dorothy's voice, Nephthys quickly acknowledged and began cleaning the scene. From afar, Dorothy watched everything unfold through Nephthys's vision and thought silently to herself.

"I was planning to observe you two a while longer, but to think you'd make the first move… I suppose I have no choice now…"

…

Shortly afterward, in an empty cabin aboard the cruise ship, Dorothy and Nephthys stood by the cabin's edge. In the center of the floor was a ritual circle of Silence, and at its heart lay the corpse of the middle-aged Chalice cultist.

"I had already bound this guy's soul when I killed him. They didn't have any countermeasures like a soul-sealing sigil, so this soul-summoning shouldn't run into any trouble…"

Looking at the body inside the ritual circle, Nephthys spoke calmly. Dorothy nodded and replied.

"No time to waste. Begin, Senior Nephthys."

At her instruction, Nephthys sat cross-legged before the circle and began chanting softly, conducting the summoning ritual. With the ritual's activation and the stirrings of Silence spirituality, the soul of the middle-aged man—already obstructed from passing into the Nether Realm—rose slowly from the body. He hovered above the array in visible confusion, staring at Nephthys and Dorothy.

"Miss Dorothy, the summoning was successful…"

Nephthys reported. Dorothy stared at the hovering ghost and spoke directly.

"What's your name? What organization are you from?"

"I am… Berto Swatta… I serve… the Lord of the Abyss and Crimson Tides… the Great Serpent God…"

"So you're with the Abyssal Church?"

"No, we are from the Gut-Eaters Society, a small cult affiliated with the Abyssal Church… We, too, worship the Serpent God…"

Under the power of the ritual, the ghost answered Dorothy's questions. Upon confirming the cult's connection to the Abyssal Church, Dorothy paused briefly, then asked again.

"What were you doing on this ship?"

"Carrying out a mission."

"What kind of mission?"

"Transport. Transporting thirteen blood cattle to Moncarlo."

The ghost responded plainly. Dorothy continued pressing.

"What's the purpose of this mission? Why bring thirteen blood cattle to Moncarlo?"

"Profit… that is the purpose… Moncarlo is a city of overflowing desire. The demand for Chalice elixirs there is massive. Elixirs fetch extremely high prices… But Moncarlo imposes unbearable tariffs on Chalice goods. Thus, we smuggle them using blood cattle to evade the duties…"

The ghost spoke on in a numb tone. Hearing this, Dorothy blinked, then asked again.

"Evading tariffs? So it's smuggling? How do you use blood cattle to smuggle?"

"Moncarlo's customs… focus primarily on goods and carry-ons. Therefore, we only need to fuse the elixir into the blood cattle's body to slip past inspections…

"We of the Gut-Eaters Society use special methods to raise blood cattle. Through prolonged feeding, injections, and surgical techniques, we can infuse large amounts of Chalice elixir into a single person's flesh and gain resistance against mystical detection. Elixir fused into the blood cattle's body can easily pass through Moncarlo's customs. Once inside the city, we simply butcher the cattle and dissolve the body using modified Corpse-Dissolving Sigils. What remains is a pool of elixir-rich blood. After dilution and processing, we can produce large amounts of usable Chalice elixir.

"There's enormous demand for Chalice elixir in Moncarlo. Our mission was to smuggle these meticulously cultivated blood cattle into the hands of the buyers—without alerting the guards."