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Dorothy's Forbidden Grimoire-Chapter 259 : Carriage
North Tivian, Historical Scripture Department, Cathedral District.
Cork sat in his office, wiping the fine beads of sweat from his forehead as he stared at the letter in front of him. Despite his efforts, the chill running down his spine refused to dissipate.
His heart was pounding uncontrollably, and panic had nearly consumed his mind. He was desperately trying to calm himself down.
After taking a deep breath, Cork managed to steady his nerves slightly and focused on the letter before him.
“I’ve been discovered… I’ve actually been discovered! Damn it, where did I slip up? Who found me out? And it’s not just one person who knows!”
Cork clenched his fists, trying to recall where his plan had gone wrong, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t pinpoint the mistake. Reluctantly, he shifted his focus to the current situation.
“No matter what, since this letter is here, my actions have definitely been exposed. There’s no doubt about that. Whether the information has been leaked to anyone, I’m in danger now. I have to leave immediately, before the Inquisition arrives!”
“Leaving now wasn’t part of the plan, but I can’t wait any longer…”
With that thought, Cork crumpled the letter in his hand and stuffed it into his pocket. He then stood up abruptly and headed for the office door. After stepping out into the bustling hall of the Historical Scripture Department, he made his way straight toward the main entrance. Seeing this, a priest called out to him.
"Deacon Cork, are you heading out?"
"Yes, there are still some formalities to take care of at the archives. I’ll be back soon," Cork replied with a forced smile, then quickly walked through the noisy hall.
After leaving the Historical Scripture Department, Cork hurried through a series of corridors, descended a staircase, and entered the Cathedral District’s plaza. He weaved through the crowd of ordinary citizens who had come to pray, heading toward a quieter, more secluded path.
There were many ways to exit the Cathedral District, and the most convenient was through the main gate, which led directly to the city’s main road. From there, he could quickly hail a carriage and make his escape. However, the main gate was heavily guarded.
Cork couldn’t be sure if the guards had already been informed about him, and with so many eyes around the main gate, he didn’t dare take that route. So, after leaving the plaza, he ducked into a narrow alley, choosing a more secluded path to exit the Cathedral District.
After walking briskly through the deserted alley for a while, Cork finally emerged from the Cathedral District onto a cobblestone path. Since it wasn’t a main road, the area was sparsely populated, and there were no carriages in sight.
“I need to find a carriage on the main road…”
Looking at the quiet scene before him, Cork thought to himself. Just as he was about to leave, the sound of hooves echoed from around the corner. A black carriage appeared in the distance, and Cork’s eyes lit up. His luck wasn’t too bad after all.
Without hesitation, Cork immediately waved at the carriage. The coachman, seeing him, pulled on the reins and brought the carriage to a stop.
"Respected priest, where are you headed?"
The young coachman, dressed in a standard uniform, spoke politely to Cork, who quickly replied.
"West District, Red Vine Road."
"West District? Very well, sir. Please get in."
The coachman responded, and Cork immediately opened the carriage door and climbed inside. After closing the door, the carriage set off, moving away from the Cathedral District. Watching the scenery rapidly passing by outside the window, Cork let out a sigh of relief.
“Phew… Now that I’ve left the Cathedral District, I’m safe for the moment. The top priority now is to get to their hideout and inform them of the situation.”
“In any case, I can’t stay in the church anymore. I’ll have to formally join them. This was supposed to happen much later, but there’s no helping it now.”
Sitting in the carriage, Cork thought to himself. In his original plan, he was supposed to continue lurking within the church, secretly collaborating with an external society to extract more benefits from the church. He had intended to leave the church and join the society at the last moment, but due to this unexpected turn of events, his plans had to be accelerated.
“But it’s not all bad. I’ve already achieved the goal of this operation, and I’m bringing something valuable with me. They should grant me a decent position.”
Cork touched the hard object hidden in his robe, thinking to himself. The mystical text he had painstakingly stolen would serve as his ticket into the new society. He hoped it would secure him greater benefits within the organization.
As Cork continued to ponder, the carriage moved further along. However, he didn’t notice that the carriage had never entered the main road. Instead, it was winding through various narrow alleys, and the number of people around was dwindling.
Cork, who had spent years in academic research within the Cathedral District, rarely ventured outside. By the time he realized something was wrong with the surroundings, the carriage had already entered a long, dilapidated alley, with hardly anyone in sight.
“We haven’t reached the main road. There’s something wrong with this carriage…”
"Stop! I’ll get off here."
Without asking the coachman any questions, Cork spoke directly. The coachman immediately pulled on the reins, bringing the carriage to a halt.
"Very well, sir. This is your stop. Take care."
The coachman responded politely, and Cork reached out to open the door, preparing to exit.
“This carriage feels off. I need to get out now, or else if I’m taken to some trap… Ugh…”
Before Cork could fully open the door, a sharp blade shot out from beneath the wooden seat of the carriage, stabbing toward his back. In the confined space, Cork had no room to dodge, and the blade pierced through his back. He let out a cry of pain.
Cork hadn’t expected that the carriage itself was the trap, not just a means to take him to one.
“There’s someone under the seat… Why didn’t I sense them?”
The moment Cork was stabbed, his eyes widened in shock. He immediately slammed his hand against the blade protruding from his back, forcing the hand holding it to let go. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the blade out and pressed his hand against the wound. A faint orange glow emanated from his hand, and the wound quickly stopped bleeding and began to heal.
Cork tried to open the door and escape, but the coachman suddenly cracked the reins, causing the carriage to accelerate sharply. The sudden movement threw Cork backward, and he fell onto the carriage floor. Seizing the opportunity, three or four burly figures emerged from under the seat, pinning Cork down and restraining him with all their might, covering his mouth.
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Cork struggled fiercely, his strength surprisingly formidable. The four men restraining him were having trouble keeping him down.
Just as Cork seemed about to break free, three of the four restraining forces suddenly intensified, suppressing his resistance. Taking advantage of this, a pair of strong hands gripped Cork’s head and twisted it sharply. With a sickening ‘crack’, Cork’s neck was broken. His body went limp, his eyes wide open, as he slumped to the floor.
Cork was dead, his lifeless body lying in the carriage as it continued down the quiet alley. The four figures who had pinned him down retreated back under the seat, their bodies disappearing into the dark space beneath.
Cork’s wide-open eyes gradually softened, and he slowly rose from the carriage floor, sitting back down on the seat. After straightening his clothes, he picked up a newspaper and began reading, his demeanor calm and natural.
The black carriage continued on its way, the coachman whistling a tune as if he were on a normal job. The passenger inside seemed to be waiting patiently for his destination. Occasionally, passersby would glance at the carriage but see nothing out of the ordinary.
The carriage eventually left the quiet alley and made its way toward the city’s outskirts. After winding through the streets for over an hour, it finally arrived at a small, deserted grove on the city’s edge.
"Your destination has arrived, sir. That will be 15 crowns."
The coachman said with a smile as he brought the carriage to a stop. Cork nodded, put down the newspaper, and stepped out of the carriage, handing the fare to the coachman, who tipped his hat politely.
"Have a safe journey, sir."
With that, the coachman drove the carriage away, while Cork walked resolutely into the grove. Deep within, he came across another private carriage parked in a clearing. Cork approached the carriage, bowed respectfully, and pulled out a thick, red-covered book from his robe, handing it through the carriage window.
"I’ve returned, miss. Please take this."
"Thank you for your hard work~"
Sitting comfortably inside the carriage, Dorothy, dressed in a small formal outfit, reached out and took the crimson mystical text. She thanked him with a smile, and Cork respectfully retreated into the woods.
"It seems the operation went smoothly…"
Dorothy murmured with a slight smile as she looked at the mystical text in her hands. The plan she and Vania had devised to deal with Cork had been formulated and prepared in the morning, and by the afternoon, it had been executed flawlessly.
Dorothy had Vania type up a threatening letter to Cork, exposing his plans. No matter what, with his plans exposed, Cork couldn’t possibly stay in the church. He would have to flee immediately.
And once he left the Cathedral District, Dorothy could make her move.
First, Dorothy prepared a carriage. Given the urgency, she didn’t have time to acquire one through normal means. Instead, she used a corpse marionette to hijack a carriage from the city outskirts. She knocked out the coachman, left him in the woods, and even took his uniform to dress one of her marionettes.
Of course, as compensation, Dorothy left the unconscious coachman 50 pounds in cash—enough to buy three carriages or start a small business.
Once Cork left the Cathedral District, he would need to quickly move to a safe location. As a mid-level deacon, he was only at the Black Earth rank and didn’t have any special means of transportation like turning into a bat. He would have to rely on a carriage like an ordinary person. All Dorothy had to do was position the carriage in front of him at the right time.
As for how Dorothy accurately tracked Cork’s location and timing… Vania’s letter to Cork had been marked with a Beacon Sigil, which Dorothy had bought from Beverly for 30 pounds.
Cork couldn’t afford to leave such a letter behind, and the urgency of the situation wouldn’t allow him to dispose of it on the spot. He would most likely carry it with him, allowing Vania to track his location using the Beacon Sigil. This information was then transmitted to Dorothy in real time through the information channel. With the map provided by Vania, Dorothy could precisely track Cork’s movements and position the carriage in front of him the moment he exited. Once Cork was in the carriage, everything else was easy. Using the magic box, Dorothy could give the priest a taste of what Jim had experienced—being overwhelmed by a group of burly men.
The coachman marionette and the marionette hiding under the seat with the magic box were both cloaked by the Concealment Ring, shared through Dorothy’s spirit threads. Even though Cork was a Black Earth-rank Lantern Beyonder with the passive ability to sense spiritual traces, he didn’t notice anything unusual about the marionettes. Dorothy had spent 1 point of Shadow to achieve this.
When subduing Cork, Dorothy spent another 3 points of Chalice to remotely enhance three marionettes with the Devouring Sigil effect through her spirit threads. Dorothy herself remained in her own carriage, controlling everything from several kilometers away. She had purchased her carriage long ago, anticipating the need for rapid movement within the city after her experiences in Igwynt.
"Now, this matter is finally settled. I wonder how Vania is doing over there…"
Dorothy stroked the red-covered mystical text in her hands and gazed out the carriage window at the sky, lost in thought.
…
Meanwhile, in the hall of the Historical Scripture Department in the Cathedral District, the atmosphere was tense.
A group of heavily armed Church Guards, completely out of place in the scholarly environment, stood at attention throughout the hall, blocking all exits.
The members of the Historical Scripture Department, who had been happily continuing their research, were startled by the sudden intrusion. Some tried to protest, but when they saw the Inquisitor in light armor and a priest’s robe, wearing a helmet, they immediately fell silent, not daring to make a sound.
Under the Inquisitor’s command, the Church Guards quickly took control of the hall and began searching the area. The priests and nuns of the Historical Scripture Department were herded to one side, looking around in panic. Though confusion was written on their faces, no one dared to speak up.
After all, this was the Inquisition, the internal affairs division of the church. Both their power and authority were top-tier within the church’s hierarchy, far beyond what the small Historical Scripture Department could handle.
At the same time, a group of craftsmen entered the hall with the Inquisitor. They immediately began dismantling the mystical text observation instruments, carefully inspecting each component and scrutinizing the lenses. The priests and nuns of the Historical Scripture Department watched in anger, but no one dared to speak up in front of the imposing Inquisitor.
Suddenly, one of the craftsmen frowned as he examined a lens. After a closer look, he hurried over to the Inquisitor and spoke respectfully.
"Sir, there’s indeed a problem with the mystical text observation instruments. Out of the 12 anti-cognitive poison enchanted lenses, one is just an ordinary piece of glass. Using this instrument to observe mystical texts would never provide complete protection."
The Inquisitor, wearing thick leather gloves, took the lens and examined it carefully. Then, a deep, stern voice emerged from beneath the helmet.
"Has Ludo Cork been found?"