Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

Eastern outskirts of Igwynt, on the banks of the Ironclay River, at the Flooded Dockyard.

Late morning, the usual tranquility of the Flooded Dockyard was shattered by the sharp sounds of gunfire. The residents turned their startled gazes toward the storage zone in the distance, their expressions filled with unease. Their conversations buzzed with speculation—was this another gang shootout?

In the storage zone itself, an ambush was unfolding. However, the identity of the ambushers and the ambushed turned out to be somewhat different from what some might have expected.

As members of the Crimson Eucharist patiently aimed their guns at the warehouses, confident in their trap and awaiting their prey, they could never have imagined that the first shot in this anticipated skirmish would not come from them. Instead, the sound of gunfire erupted from behind them. Bullets whistled through the air from unexpected angles, piercing their bodies and the ruined brick buildings they had chosen as ambush points. The shots came from other structures behind them.

Outside the Crimson Eucharist’s ambush circle, members of the hunter squad had already taken positions atop various buildings, strategically aiming at the brick ruins hiding their adversaries. The hunters had encircled the Crimson Eucharist with a larger ambush ring of their own, effectively trapping them.

The cannibalistic members of the Crimson Eucharist never suspected that after spending an entire morning preparing their ambush, they would themselves become the hunted when the battle began.

When Elena fired the first shot, the hunter squad members, already prepared, opened fire simultaneously on the hiding spots of the Crimson Eucharist. Within the first salvo, four exposed members were shot down.

The remaining Crimson Eucharist members quickly realized the direction of the attack and sought cover inside the buildings, returning fire. However, due to their disadvantaged positions and the loss of initial manpower, they found themselves suppressed in the ensuing firefight.

“Ha! It’s just like this map depicted—those guys’ hiding spots, firing positions, and even their sentries are all marked perfectly. Fighting with this map, it’s hard not to have the upper hand…”

From atop a three-story building, Gregor observed the Crimson Eucharist struggling to return fire and couldn’t help but remark. As he spoke, he glanced at the map spread out on the floor beside him. Their ability to take the initiative and gain such a decisive advantage was almost entirely thanks to this map.

The map had been delivered to the Serenity Bureau earlier that morning at around 10 AM, disguised as a flower delivery. A similar incident had occurred the previous month, leading to the Burton case. Remembering that outcome, the Bureau treated this delivery with utmost urgency, immediately examining the accompanying information.

What they hadn’t expected was that this time, the information included not only the Crimson Eucharist’s base but also a complete map detailing their military deployment.

Upon receiving the map, Gregor and his team immediately recognized the urgency of the situation. They sent a telegraph to their director, who was not in the office, requesting permission to act. After receiving approval, they swiftly moved to the Flooded Dockyard. Verifying the map’s accuracy by apprehending two sentries along the way, they advanced stealthily and launched a counter-ambush on the Crimson Eucharist, catching them completely off guard.

“Hmph. That mysterious organization must have a mole inside the Crimson Eucharist to get such detailed intel. Sure, we’re being used as a tool again, but as long as we can kill some cannibals, it’s worth it.”

As he spoke, Gregor pulled his sword from the ground and looked toward a distant clock tower.

“Seems like their leader is up there. Sister Elena, keep providing cover. And stop praying while you shoot.”

“The Church raised me this way—it’s hard to break the habit. Besides, I’m a hunter squad member now, not a nun,” Elena retorted, rolling her eyes at Gregor. He responded with a grin, donned his mask, and leaped out the window, swiftly traversing the rooftops toward the abandoned clock tower.

…

Gunfire echoed through the Flooded Dockyard, while atop the abandoned clock tower, a scene of panic and fear unfolded.

“Damn it, damn it! What the hell is going on? How did they attack us from behind? Where are the sentries? The signals? What happened to them all?”

At the top of the clock tower, Clifford paced nervously behind cover, his anxiety mounting. He couldn’t comprehend how their carefully laid ambush had spiraled into this disastrous situation.

They were supposed to ambush others. How had their leader been taken down with a single shot? Now they were entirely suppressed, and the situation was dire.

Clifford stomped his foot in frustration. At his feet lay Buck, shot through the head, his lifeless body sprawled in a pool of blood.

“Huff… Something must have gone wrong. Right now, we need to hold our ground.” After glancing at Buck, Clifford took a deep breath and moved to a corner of the room. He opened a pre-prepared box containing his weapons and armor, gearing up for the battle ahead.

Meanwhile, the crimson gemstone on Buck’s staff began to emit a faint red glow.

…

Gregor darted across rooftops, rapidly closing the distance to the clock tower.

From a window below the tower, a Crimson Eucharist member spotted him and immediately raised his gun to fire. But as the thug pulled the trigger, Gregor’s eyes gleamed with a silver light. His speed surged as his spirituality fueled his movements.

The thug’s shot missed entirely.

“What the…”

Before the thug could recover from his shock, Gregor had leaped through the window, cutting him down with a single stroke. The clean cut severed the thug’s head and spine, leaving a remarkably smooth edge. Gregor’s sword glowed faintly with a silvery sheen.

…

Inside the tower, Clifford had prepared for a fierce fight. However, as Gregor ascended the stairs, his speed, agility, and deadly precision overwhelmed the defenders. With his glowing sword, he cut down several enemies effortlessly, carving through their bones like butter.

After dispatching the guards, Gregor reached the top floor. As he emerged, a massive axe swung toward him.

“Die, you government dog!” Clifford, clad in makeshift armor and wielding the axe, charged.

Gregor blocked the blow but was knocked backward by Clifford’s immense strength, slamming into the wall.

“Damn… A Thrister,” Gregor muttered, realizing the foe’s enhanced strength.

“Ha! You’re finished!” Clifford roared, lifting his axe for another strike.

Gregor dodged as the axe lodged in the wall. Seizing the opportunity, Gregor drew a dagger and lunged for Clifford’s exposed neck.

Just as the blade neared its target, a staff flew through the air, striking Gregor’s hand and knocking the dagger away.

Startled, Gregor turned to see Buck—standing, alive, and furious. The wound on his head no longer bled, and the crimson gemstone on his staff radiated ominously.