Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire-Chapter 694 : Arrival at Port

Daytime, somewhere on the open sea.
Under clear skies and brilliant sun, with waves surging all around, a massive white passenger ship was steadily slicing through the azure waters. On the ship’s deck, crowds of travelers had gathered to enjoy the fine weather, admiring the seascape while partaking in afternoon tea.
On a spacious rear deck, at one of the fixed outdoor tables shaded by an umbrella, sat Dorothy, dressed in a white dress styled after a sailor uniform, her hair tied in a side ponytail. She leisurely sipped tea and nibbled at desserts prepared onboard, all while enjoying the sea breeze. Across from her sat Nephthys, wearing sunglasses, a plaid shirt, and light-colored trousers, one leg crossed over the other as she gazed into the distant, hazy seascape.
“Can’t believe it… Just a year later, and we’re heading to North Ufiga again… Being a Beyonder feels kind of like being an archaeologist. Always out doing fieldwork…”
Nephthys said as she drank her tea. Hearing that, Dorothy raised an eyebrow slightly and asked in return.
“Oh? Then, Senior Nephthys, do you find being a Beyonder more exhausting, or attending university classes?”
Dorothy’s question made Nephthys tap her chin thoughtfully before answering.
“Well… if we’re talking about how it feels, then being a Beyonder is definitely harder. Setting aside the constant danger, every outing is far away—overseas even—and the journeys alone are exhausting. I think I experienced more in that one year than I did in the past ten-plus years combined. And most of it was heart-poundingly tense. When I returned and resumed regular classes in the second half of the year, I felt so relieved—so at ease…
“If it weren’t for my family’s curse, maybe I wouldn’t have delved this deeply into the mystical world. It would’ve just remained a hobby. But that curse is written into our fate. I doubt I was ever meant to live a peaceful life…”
Nephthys spoke with some wistfulness. After a gentle sip of tea, Dorothy replied calmly.
“It’s fine. Once your family’s curse is lifted, you’ll be free to choose whatever kind of life you want. Though by then, having already become so deeply entangled with the mystical world, it might be a bit difficult to return to an ordinary life.”
“Hah… If I can resolve that Pharaoh’s Curse, there’s nothing else in this world I can’t handle. Either way, let’s hope this trip to North Ufiga brings us some clues on breaking it. I took a long leave for this—it’s definitely thrown off my coursework. If I go back empty-handed, that would be a real loss.”
Nephthys chuckled lightly, to which Dorothy responded with a steady smile.
“Don’t worry, your studies are the last thing you need to stress about. If it really bothers you, I can always take some time to study up to your professor’s level and give you private tutoring. I’ll make sure you graduate without a hitch.”
“Ah… Is that so…”
Nephthys scratched her head awkwardly, suddenly remembering what it was like to be tutored one-on-one by Dorothy. Honestly, those sessions were even more intense than her regular university classes.
Seeing Nephthys’s reaction, Dorothy simply smiled and turned her head toward the boundless ocean, silently wondering what challenges awaited her on this return trip to North Ufiga.
…
After a brief stop back in Tivian for preparations, Dorothy—carrying the “school documents” provided by Beverly—once again visited Gregor, claiming she was going abroad to study for a semester at a prestigious foreign university. She told him she wouldn’t be in Tivian for a while.
Since it was a matter involving Dorothy’s academic future—and Beverly had even called in some influential figures in the mortal education sector, including someone with ties to Royal Crown University—Gregor didn’t hesitate to approve the exchange program. In fact, he was proud of his younger sister’s academic excellence.
Gregor’s willingness to approve her travel wasn’t only out of concern for her studies. Lately, he’d grown increasingly uneasy about Tivian’s safety.
The Eight-Spired Nest’s infiltration of official mystical agencies had reached deep and still couldn’t be rooted out. Since Dorothy’s return, signs of their activity were everywhere in Tivian. Last year, cultists had even launched open assaults on the Church. The Archbishop of Pritt had been severely injured under mysterious circumstances and forced to return to Holy Mount to recover. Meanwhile, the Director of the Serenity Bureau had been hurt during a cultist raid, the Hymn Cathedral turned into a battlefield, and mystical phenomena were running rampant in the outskirts of the city.
After experiencing all this, Gregor felt that Tivian—capital of Pritt—was no longer safe. Too many mystical forces had fixed their sights on the city. Even a Crimson-rank Beyonder couldn’t guarantee personal safety here, let alone ordinary civilians. While no massive disaster had yet struck the civilian population, Gregor saw plenty of warning signs and believed such a tragedy could happen at any time.
Thus, Gregor was quite supportive of Dorothy temporarily leaving Tivian. It was better for her to stay somewhere safer and return only after the danger passed.
And so, with Gregor’s approval and preparations complete, Dorothy promptly bought ship tickets to North Ufiga and brought Nephthys along on the journey once more. Since this trip might involve encountering a being like Hafdar, the Death Monarch, and potentially lead to a way to break her family’s curse, Nephthys readily agreed to go with her.
Departing from Tivian by sea, Dorothy and Nephthys transferred ships at various coastal ports across multiple countries. After nearly two weeks, they finally arrived once again in North Ufiga, the sun-scorched land they had once stepped foot on.
Just like their last visit—and like many travelers arriving in North Ufiga—their first stop was the gateway city known as Kankdal.
In this largest port city of North Ufiga, Dorothy and Nephthys temporarily paused their journey to rest, recover from the fatigue of travel, and revisit familiar sights while noting the city’s recent changes. But this stay wasn’t just about rest. They were genuinely waiting for someone.
…
Under clear sky.
With bright sunshine overhead, several days after Dorothy and Nephthys arrived in Kankdal, the port was bustling on one particular afternoon—lively, clamorous, teeming with excitement.
On the wide docks, throngs of Kankdal citizens had gathered, filling nearly every available space. Among them were both fair-skinned mainlanders from the foreigner districts and dark-skinned locals from the outskirts of the city.
In this splendid weather, the people of Kankdal stood shoulder-to-shoulder, holding up banners under the blazing sun and gazing expectantly out to sea. Amid the clamor, they waited for a familiar and honorable guest to once again grace their city.
At that moment, a colossal vessel had already docked at the harbor. Its hull was clad in heavy iron armor adorned with reliefs of various religious tales. Arcane inscriptions densely engraved across its body shimmered with mystery, and scrolls reminiscent of signal flags hung from its sides. Twin-mounted massive cannons on the fore and aft decks, a thunderous ramming prow—every detail marked this as an unmistakable Church warship. This towering behemoth, weighing tens of thousands of tons, rested in quiet majesty at the harbor’s largest berth.
Though the people of Kankdal had seen Church warships before, none had ever witnessed one of this scale. It stood taller than most buildings and dwarfed the regular military vessels typically docked in Kankdal. Even the most well-traveled merchants on the scene had rarely encountered anything like it. Only a handful of nobles, officials, and seasoned sailors had any idea of its true origin.
This was a main warship of the Church fleet—its very backbone and core strength. These vessels were deployed across various fleets and held different classifications, but because they rarely participated in escort missions, they were almost never seen by ordinary citizens. Typically, they moved only between military ports and were reserved for annihilation-level operations.
In truth, the Church’s main warships weren’t entirely barred from escort duties—just very rarely used for them. If one ever did serve as an escort, the person being escorted was undoubtedly of the highest stature—either a national head of state or an archbishop. And now, this particular warship had just concluded such an escort mission.
Cheers erupted from the dock as a white figure appeared at the edge of the great warship’s deck, surrounded by an entourage. The moment that figure came into view, the crowd’s cries reached a crescendo, and the atmosphere boiled over with fervor. Many in the crowd were shouting one name: Sister Vania.
Standing at the edge of the massive deck, clad in her iconic white habit, Vania Chafferon was momentarily stunned by the overwhelming welcome before her. The sheer scale and passion of the scene seemed to leave her breathless.
This kind of reception wasn’t entirely new to her. About a year ago, she had experienced something similar. But the scale and intensity today far exceeded anything she’d seen before.
Back then, the welcoming party had only been a few hundred people, organized by the city administration mostly out of courtesy to the Church. It had been more formal than sincere. But today, things were different. Over ten thousand had gathered at the port—most of them regular citizens. And from their enthusiasm, it was clear they weren’t compelled to be here. They had come of their own accord.
This stark contrast reflected the drastic rise in Vania’s reputation over the past year. Through the Addus incident and several subsequent events, her global influence had grown tremendously. She had gone from being a Church-promoted nun featured in newspapers to a figure of worldwide celebrity.
Nowhere was this transformation more pronounced than in Kankdal. Because of the Kankdal incident, the people here had come to associate Vania with their city on a deeper level. Tales of her being framed for assassination and unjustly accused had been romanticized and passed down, spawning countless strange and wondrous legends. The site of the assassination attempt and even her former hotel room had become miniature tourist attractions. Today’s spectacle was a vivid embodiment of her reputation in Kankdal.
“So many people… Are they all placing their hopes on me?”
Staring at the sea of adoring faces, Vania couldn’t help but think in astonishment. Being the object of so much love and expectation made her feel at a loss—perhaps even fearful. She had risen so high that she now dreaded what would happen if she were to fall.
“Lord… please grant me Your protection…”
She prayed silently in her heart, then gathered her courage and stepped forward. With a gentle smile, she descended the long gangway under the crowd’s jubilant welcome.
Around her neck, a fine iron chain extended into her robes. Beneath them, an old pendant of the Holy Mother swayed gently with her every step.
…
“Ah… Looks like Sister Vania’s popularity has soared again. She’s practically on par with Miss Adèle now…”
On the fringes of the dockside crowd, Nephthys, clad in a North Ufigan robe, gazed into the distance where Vania was descending the gangway. She spoke with a touch of admiration. Beside her, Dorothy, in a slightly smaller robe, responded calmly.
“Adèle may have more popularity within Tivian, but Vania's fame is global. The Church’s propaganda power is leagues above that of any entertainment agency.”
“Mmm… I guess that’s true. But still, if Miss Adèle had asked you to be her manager, Miss Dorothy. Maybe she wouldn’t be far behind Sister Vania in fame either. After all, people who stick around you long enough always end up involved in headline-worthy events. If managed well, media exposure wouldn’t be a problem at all.”
Nephthys said teasingly.
Dorothy smiled.
“In a sense, I’m already your and Vania’s manager. I’ve seriously crafted your public images, you know.”
“Eh? Mine too? When did that happen?”
Nephthys said in surprise. But Dorothy responded without a change in expression.
“Of course—Thief K. That persona of yours is no less famous than any celebrity. Your public image is one of my proudest creations.”
Hearing that, Nephthys froze with embarrassment, scratched her head, and changed the subject.
“Uhh… Let’s not dwell on that topic. Anyway, now that Sister Vania’s arrived, what’s our next move?”
“Simple. We’ll join Vania’s entourage and head to Addus. From there, we’ll transfer to Busalet. But before officially arriving in Busalet, there are a few old friends we need to visit in Addus first.”
Dorothy said with her arms folded across her chest.
Nephthys nodded quietly.
“Old friends, huh…” she murmured.