Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Outside the Gemstone Theater, a luxurious carriage stood parked by the street. Beside it, a man named Bill, dressed in the uniform of a theater staff member, waited respectfully for a response from someone inside the carriage.

He only waited briefly before a slightly aged voice emerged from within.

“Can you confirm who it is exactly?”

“I'm sorry, I can't,” Bill replied. “I caught the scent in the entrance corridor, but there were too many people brushing past me at the time. When I turned around to look, they had already dispersed into the venue…”

“I can’t confirm who it is, but it’s clear that they’re one of the attendees and are still in the venue,” he added.

Hearing this, the person inside the carriage fell silent for a moment before responding slowly.

“Once the event starts, find a way to confirm it. Make sure not to draw attention or alarm anyone.”

“Understood…”

…

Dorothy, dressed in an elegant outfit, entered the venue with the crowd. Under the glow of warm lights, a spacious hall unfolded before her eyes.

Massive pillars supported the open hall. At one end, a stage veiled by red curtains stood prominently. In front of it were semi-circular tiers of seating. Positioned directly across from the stage was the orchestra, tuning their instruments. Above the tiered seating were many private boxes, creating the atmosphere of a classic theater.

Ascending the steps, Dorothy found a seat in the semi-circular tier with a clear view of the stage. Sitting on the soft, comfortable chair, she let out a long sigh.

“Phew… While this outfit is exquisite and pretty, casual clothes are still more comfortable. But I guess this isn’t too bad.”

As she mused, Dorothy glanced at the other women in the venue. Many wore elaborate gowns with wide skirts and excessively tight corsets that seemed agonizing just to look at.

She recalled witnessing a woman trying on a gown in a clothing store. With the help of several people, the woman endured a painful process of being cinched into the dress, her face turning pale during the ordeal.

Through her initial observations, Dorothy had come to understand that these torturous dresses were a trend of the era. Fortunately for her, her age didn’t require her to wear such attire for social occasions yet. Her current outfit, though a formal dress, retained many “childish” design elements.

“Being young has its perks—I don’t have to suffer like those ladies. Besides, I’m not here to socialize…”

Finishing her inner monologue, Dorothy settled in to wait for the evening to begin.

As more attendees took their seats, the grand hall gradually filled up. After about ten minutes, the event finally neared its start.

At precisely 7 PM, the orchestra that had been ready for some time began to play. The harmonious melody spread throughout the venue, signaling the start of the event. Conversations among the attendees subsided as they recognized the music as the opening cue.

Once the prelude ended, a man in a tailcoat stepped onto the stage in front of the curtain. Facing the audience, he cleared his throat and loudly announced:

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, full of kindness!”

Applause filled the venue in response. After the clapping faded, the host spread his arms wide and enthusiastically continued.

“Once again, under the radiant light of the Holy Mother’s mercy, we gather here for our annual event. As always, the love gathered here today will be the beacon of hope for the impoverished of Igwynt. Your generosity will be forever remembered.”

“First, let us express our gratitude to the initiator of this grand event, Igwynt’s warmest flame, Viscount Ian Field!”

As he spoke, the host gestured toward a private box in the upper tier of the seating area. Almost every gaze turned toward it, and another round of applause erupted.

In the spotlighted box stood an elderly man in his fifties or sixties, dressed in a suit, his hair graying. Smiling, he removed his hat and bowed to the audience. Beside him were two children, around eight or nine years old, wearing finely tailored outfits. They waved happily at the crowd. Behind them stood another older man, also in his fifties, sporting a goatee and dressed in a tailcoat, holding a cane. Clearly a butler, he silently observed the applause and his master’s gestures of acknowledgment.

“So that’s Viscount Field? At a glance, he doesn’t seem suspicious…” Dorothy thought to herself as she observed the distant box from her seat.

“Maybe I’m just overthinking… Hopefully, that’s the case.”

…

“Is that Viscount Field? He’s been hosting this charity show for seven years in a row,” remarked Vania, a nun seated in a private box reserved for members of the Radiance Church. Watching the elderly man waving to the crowd, she spoke with curiosity.

Her companions nodded and smiled. “Yes, he’s a renowned philanthropist in Igwynt. Only a place enlightened by the Holy Mother could produce such a person.”

“Haha… That’s true…”

…

After introducing Viscount Field, the host went on to present a few other notable individuals before officially declaring the start of the event.

“Now, let us enjoy our traditional opening performance—a choir performance by the children of the Charity Orphanage!”

The host exited the stage as the curtains slowly rose, revealing children dressed in white standing in neat rows on a tiered platform. Nervous expressions adorned their little faces, and each wore a unified performance costume.

The children’s white outfits, skirts, and sleeves were adorned with soft, fluffy cotton balls, and each wore a small lamb horn headpiece. Combined with their white attire and woolen embellishments, they looked like a group of little lambs.

“This costume design is excellent… It’s quite thematic,” Dorothy mused as she watched the stage. Among the children, she spotted Anna in the front row. The girl was looking around as if searching for someone. When her eyes landed on Dorothy, she broke into a radiant smile. Dorothy smiled back and waved.

Once everything was ready, the orchestra began playing a gentle tune. The children started singing in unison, their pure voices carrying an innocent melody.

“Lambs… lambs… we are lambs… sweet little lambs…”

“Grant us mercy so we may grow… Show us kindness so we may run…”

“We are lambs… tender lambs…”

“Grant us grace… Grace is gentle rain, grace is green pastures…”

“We are lambs… protected lambs…”

“We shall repay one day… We shall repay… Tomorrow shall be brighter because of us…”

“We are lambs… grateful lambs…”

“Lambs… lambs… we are lambs…”

“The Lamb of God…”

…

The children’s innocent chorus echoed through the theater, silencing the audience with its purity. The unique charm of their singing—clear, sincere, and sweet—captivated everyone present. It was evident they had practiced extensively to deliver such a harmonious performance.

Leaning back in her chair, Dorothy listened quietly, her thoughts lingering on the lyrics.

“Comparing children to lambs, pleading for mercy and care… Is that the song’s meaning? Or is there something deeper?”

As Dorothy pondered, the system’s voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts.

“Mystical Knowledge acquired: Song of the Lamb (Fragment). Severe deficiencies detected; spiritual potency is minimal. It is recommended to seek the complete version for further mastery.”