Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

In the theater's venue, the attendees of the evening show were engrossed in the next performance on stage, while Dorothy was deep in thought.

“It does seem... a bit similar…”

As Dorothy sifted through her memories, comparing mental images, she reached this conclusion. She continued to dig deeper, retrieving two specific images from her recollections and meticulously overlapping them, analyzing key details point by point.

At this moment, Dorothy’s brain resembled a computer running advanced image processing software. It didn’t take long for her to complete the comparison: the man named Bill, whom she had previously encountered at the Buck Mansion, bore an uncanny resemblance to the man she had crossed paths with in the hallway earlier. The facial structure, body proportions, and details of the lower half of the face aligned almost perfectly. She was now certain they were the same person.

“Bill is here in this venue? What’s his purpose here? Are the songs sung by those children really connected to the Eucharist? Is he the source of the crisis foretold by the divination?”

A whirlwind of thoughts began to swirl in Dorothy’s mind. Numerous questions troubled her at once, but after shaking her head, she decided to focus on the most pressing issue at hand—namely, the potential crisis that Bill might bring about.

“First… I need to figure out what form this crisis might take to target me. Either the Eucharist’s crisis is so widespread that it inadvertently includes me, or I’ve somehow been exposed, and they’ve taken notice of me.”

“A large-scale crisis, like a terrorist attack, seems unlikely. Not only would such an operation risk attracting the attention of the kingdom’s central government and even the upper echelons of the church, but the Crimson Eucharist has already suffered severe damage due to me. They shouldn’t have the resources to organize a large-scale operation anytime soon.”

“So… it’s possible that I’ve been exposed somehow. But when did this happen? And how much do they know? Have they already identified my identity and location?”

As these thoughts filled her mind, Dorothy began surveying her surroundings, carefully observing for anyone who might be searching for or monitoring her.

Then, she noticed something peculiar. On the edges of the audience seating, several theater staff members were systematically collecting invitation cards row by row. After collecting from each row, they meticulously organized and recorded the cards. This action sparked dissatisfaction among some audience members, who voiced their complaints. Although the staff repeatedly apologized, they persisted, explaining as they continued to gather the invitation cards.

“Why are they suddenly collecting the invitation cards? Weren’t they already checked at the entrance? Did something go wrong that requires rechecking? No, that’s not right. The show has already started, and now they’re doing this? It’s blatantly disrupting the audience’s experience…”

Watching the staff slowly approach with the collected invitation cards, Dorothy’s thoughts raced. To her, disrupting so many people’s viewing experience just to pinpoint a few questionable attendees seemed inefficient and unnecessary. After all, this was a charity show, not some classified meeting.

Unless… finding this questionable attendee was of utmost importance. So important that they were willing to disrupt the audience experience to achieve it.

If the theater’s upper management was under the control of the Eucharist, then Dorothy herself was likely the person they deemed necessary to find, no matter the cost.

Based on her earlier deductions, Dorothy speculated that they might possess a method to identify her through the invitation cards.

“But how could they determine who I am from the invitation card? Could it be some kind of divination based on mysticism? No… If they could divine my location, they wouldn’t need to go through all this trouble. Maybe they can read some kind of information off the card itself.”

“And if it’s information carried by an object, it’s most likely scent. Scent can linger on objects.”

Reaching this conclusion, Dorothy’s mental chain of reasoning began to click into place. She now suspected that the information she had inadvertently exposed was her scent, likely when she brushed past Bill earlier. It wasn’t unusual for someone associated with the Chalice to possess mystical items or abilities that enhanced their sense of smell. Collecting invitation cards was likely a method for them to identify the original holders’ scent.

After all, if someone wandered around the audience sniffing at each individual, it would be considered highly inappropriate and would likely result in them being thrown out by an enraged crowd. Collecting invitation cards, on the other hand, avoided such backlash.

Thinking this, Dorothy pulled out her own invitation card to examine it. The charity show’s invitation cards had been distributed by various affiliated organizations on behalf of the organizers and were not personalized.

The theater staff were systematically collecting the cards row by row, bundling them together and documenting each bundle. This way, if they identified an anomaly in a particular bundle, they could narrow down the problematic individual to a specific row and determine their exact position by a process of elimination.

“It seems… I can’t hand this thing over so easily.”

Looking at the card in her hand, Dorothy came to a decision. If she handed it over, her location could easily be deduced from her scent, completely exposing her. On the other hand, refusing to hand it over or claiming to have lost it would certainly draw suspicion, and Bill might even come to confirm her identity personally.

Resorting to violence would immediately reveal her identity, and fleeing now would leave an empty seat, prompting the others around her to describe her appearance.

“This is getting a little tricky…”

Realizing her predicament, Dorothy furrowed her brow. Although the staff collecting invitation cards were still some distance away, they would inevitably reach her eventually. In a public setting like this, it would be difficult for her to resist openly, escape unnoticed, or hand over the card without compromising herself. She felt as though she had been cornered into a difficult situation.

“I need to come up with a plan…”

With that thought, Dorothy sank deeper into contemplation.

…

Meanwhile, in another part of the venue, inside a private box reserved for the Radiance Church.

Vania watched the performance on stage while several local priests from Igwynt occasionally explained aspects of the show to her. Vania smiled and nodded politely as they spoke.

“Ha ha… Sister Vania, what do you think? This is what the Lord’s people in Igwynt look like. Impressive, isn’t it?”

A priest smiled as he addressed Vania. Forcing a smile, she replied, “Oh, yes… It’s truly remarkable. You’re absolutely right. Tonight has been an eye-opening experience for me.”

“Oh, really? Then which performance has left the deepest impression on you, Sister Vania? Could you share your thoughts?”

“Ah… That, um… I think the children’s choir at the beginning left the deepest impression. They were so… pure! So beautiful!”

“The children’s choir, you say? Ha ha, as I thought! Let me tell you, Sister Vania, those children come from our local Charity Orphanage. It’s a place that strictly follows the teachings of the Holy Mother. Just by looking at their spirit and demeanor, you can tell they’re living under the grace of the Holy Mother…”

The middle-aged priest, with his round belly, began enthusiastically elaborating, using the performance as an opportunity to highlight the local church’s achievements. Other priests occasionally chimed in, and Vania, awkward and introverted by nature, could only smile and nod, feeling overwhelmed and unable to keep up.

It was clear that the Igwynt clergy had invited Vania to this charity show not simply to watch the show but to use the opportunity to showcase their local accomplishments to an important representative from a higher church authority. For them, the performance was secondary; impressing an external envoy was the real priority.

Initially, Vania had thought she was merely here to enjoy a show. She hadn’t expected the event to turn into a social occasion centered entirely around her. Unlike Vania, who wanted to quietly enjoy the show, the others in the box were using the show as a networking opportunity, turning the atmosphere into something resembling a business dinner.

Although the Radiance Church was a religious organization, its immense size inevitably led to bureaucratic tendencies, and this event was no exception.

As someone from the capital’s diocese—an area under the Archbishop of the Pritt Diocese—Vania was someone they felt compelled to impress, using the show as a platform to curry favor and promote themselves.

For Vania, a nun with little experience in socializing due to her introverted personality and reclusive work habits, this situation was utterly overwhelming. She could only muster polite smiles and stammer out responses while inwardly feeling like crying.

Driven by her instincts as a nun, she silently prayed in her heart.

“Lord, please save me! I just want to quietly watch a few performances…”

…

Just as Vania finished her prayer, Dorothy, seated in the audience, suddenly froze for a moment.