Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

Chapter 407 Other Ways to Lift the Curse

Before searching for the evil book, Charles went to see the old magic craftsman Marshall. He knew then that it wouldn't be easy to get what he wanted out of Cunningham.

However, the outer shell of the Soul Orb is not very hard, and it may break if too much force is applied, so we can only ask the old man if he has any suitable "weapons".

Of course, he had other things to discuss with Martial.

I had previously promised the kobolds that I would find some prosthetics to make for them to improve the daily lives of those kobolds who were injured in mining, but since I came back, I haven't had much time. Now is the perfect time to ask them.

However, the old man's answer was not ideal.

If it's just a regular prosthetic limb, you can directly contact alchemists who cooperate with various medical institutions. They will have the necessary items. However, such prosthetic limbs are barely adequate and are of little use in daily production.

Kobolds usually mine in the mines and also look for plump insects, which leads to their high requirements for prosthetics. Ordinary models cannot adapt to their body movements and are not conducive to their daily work.

This answer made Charles frown. He knew that the kobolds were now an important ally of Charles, directly responsible for the source of magic crystals. If he wanted to establish a magic academy in the future, the consumption of magic crystals would be a major problem.

Although the establishment of a magic academy is still a long way off, it doesn't stop Sharl from accumulating magic crystals.

So he pressed the old man for an answer.

Old man Martial did indeed offer a solution, which was—a magical prosthetic limb.

These items were originally provided to low-level mages who lost their limbs in battle. Their level was too low to exchange for the opportunity to be regenerated by the four major churches, so they could only make themselves a magical prosthetic limb for the time being.

As the name suggests, this type of prosthetic limb can work in accordance with the owner's thoughts, just like the original hands and feet, and can perform various actions well, thus meeting various daily needs.

However, a new problem arises: magical prosthetics can only be used by mages. In essence, it is just a magical item. The kobolds do not know magic, so even if they obtain magical prosthetics, they can only use them as decorations.

In fact, due to the high cost of magical prosthetics, they are not as good as ordinary prosthetics.

"If only there were a prosthetic limb that didn't need to be powered by magic," Charles remarked at the time, but the old man immediately refuted him, saying that such a thing didn't exist at the moment.

Of course, whether it will happen in the future is anyone's guess.

After the matter of the prosthetic limb was settled, Charles finally revealed his purpose for coming, but the old man completely ignored "items that could be used to deal with high-level archmages," and was instead more interested in the cursed blood and the venom of the feathered serpent god.

"You still have some mithril and magic crystals, and quite a few bones from those magical beasts. I made some bone staffs, but now that I have blood and venom, I can try making some other things." The old man looked excited. He immediately pulled Xia Er up, ready to go into the forest to collect cursed blood and feathered serpent venom.

In the end, he was persuaded by Charles to stop. On the one hand, the blood of the curse was very dangerous, and that large area had already been cordoned off. According to Sansio, there was still a faint evil smell in the air, and they could only start collecting it after the blood mist had completely settled.

On the other hand, the cursed blood and Quetzalcoatl's venom won't escape, but Cunningham's Soul Orb has a time limit. He must find an item as soon as possible that can be used without damaging the outer shell and still allow him to "interact" with the high-ranking archmage.

This request put the old man in a difficult position. After all, the magical items he made were all designed to be powerful and invincible. To cause damage to the other party without "breaking the skin" was not his style at all.

He immediately took out a sphere that was faintly crackling with lightning and placed it in front of Xia Er. "Lightning Star. When it comes into contact with an enemy, it will cause them to feel a strong electric shock and paralysis. It is usually used to make part of projectiles."

"This is dangerous, isn't it?"

"Yes, once thrown, it will form a lightning circle with a diameter of half a meter, which can effectively kill enemies. If the target is an animal, it can directly burn and stun it."

"Then forget it, that definitely won't work."

"This is already the least damaging magical item I have here." The old man was in a dilemma. In the past, the people who asked him to make items wanted them to be as powerful as possible. Today, he had encountered a commission that wanted to minimize the effect while still making it effective.

"I really don't have such a thing here. If all else fails, you can soak it in hot water and scald it." He had no other choice but to offer a suggestion on the spot.

"This method seems to work." Charles's eyes lit up immediately.

Hot water alone is not enough; some ice water must also be added so that Archmage Cunningham can enjoy the "ultimate" pleasure.

But then Xia Er thought again, hot and cold water alone are not enough. What if the old mage gets addicted to "taking a bath" after a few times? Nobody knows if this kind of research fanatic will do some kind of "research on the tolerance of the Soul Sphere to hot and cold".

There must be other methods.

Finally, Charles remembered the metal rod that was in his box.

It was taken from Philip's corpse before. Yunxia once said that it was a magical item that the other party used to torture her, which could generate electric shocks.

However, this thing is quite powerful, capable of injuring even Yunxia, ​​one of the best fairies. If it were to directly hit the Soul Orb, it would definitely damage the outer shell.

So Charles specifically gave that metal rod to the old man to modify.

And you know what? The old man could indeed reduce the power, which was no problem for him at all. However, while he was making changes, he cursed the maker of the metal rod, saying that it was a waste of materials to use such good magical materials to make such nonsensical items.

Charles, however, wanted to tell the old man, "You have no idea what nobles think; you can't imagine the fun they have."

After all this trouble, Shar finally had a handy "weapon" that allowed him to spar with the high-ranking archmage Cunningham.

"Are you really not going to talk?" He gripped the metal rod and gestured outside the bone cell, but the archmage's curses were the only response he received.

"Looks like there's no way we can talk." Charles sighed, then shoved the metal rod directly at it.

"You damned, vile goblin, don't even think about getting it from me—" Cunningham was cursing when, unexpectedly, a cold metal rod was thrust into the bottom of his Soul Orb.

"Squeak squeak squeak." The moment the metal rod touched the Soul Orb, a weak current enveloped the orb.

"Ah, ah, ah—" Cunningham's voice convulsed, and the Soul Orb began to contract violently.

"Why bother with all this?" With that, Ciel removed the metal rod. "Have you figured it out?"

"You vile goblin, even if I die—"

"Ah, ah, ah—" Seeing that the other party was still stubborn, Ciel thrust the metal rod in again.

"You despicable thing—"

"Ah, ah, ah"

"You—"

"Ah, ah, ah"

"you----"

"Ah, ah, ah"

"6

""

"Ah, ah, ah"

After several electric shocks, Cunningham finally couldn't take it anymore. "Wait, I'll talk, I—"

"Ah, ah, ah—" Ciel ignored what he was saying and continued to thrust the metal rod into the bottom of the Soul Orb.

"I said, I really said—"

"Ah, ah, ah—"

After being poked again, Charles suddenly realized, "Oh, sorry, you meant to say it?"

He smiled apologetically, realizing he had gotten carried away with the attack and had overlooked the Grand Mage's words.

The main thing is that poking this Soul Sphere is very interesting. As soon as the metal rod is pushed in, the Soul Sphere trembles and shrinks rapidly, eventually shrinking to almost half its original size. After the metal rod is removed, the sphere immediately returns to its original shape.

It feels like popping tiny bubbles on plastic wrappers, a stress-relieving sensation.

Charles took the "Cunningham Joy Stick" from his hand, afraid that he might not be able to hold back any longer. "Since the Archmage is willing to talk, then let him talk."

"You—" Cunningham tried to argue, but as soon as the metal rod approached, he quickly changed his tune, "No, no, no, this, this human, what do you want to know about the transformation curse?"

"I already said, it's a friend of mine." Charles pouted, stubbornly correcting the other person.

"Yes, yes." Cunningham's soul sphere quickly contracted, seemingly genuinely frightened.

"I want to know how to break this curse." Charles smiled as he gazed at the sphere of souls within the bone prison.

"The solution is simple, just—"

"As long as the caster personally dispels the spell, or you kill the caster and take away their soul as well, is that right?" Charles said calmly, a faint smile on his face.

"You...you already know." Cunningham's voice trembled, as if she hadn't recovered from the electric shock.

"If I knew who cast the spell, would I need to ask you?" Charles tapped the shell of the bone prison with the metal rod in his hand, a gesture that caused the Soul Orb to tremble a few times. "Tell me if there's any other way."

"Another way—" Cunningham's voice hesitated, but feeling the "pleasure stick" being offered again, he immediately changed his mind, "Yes, there is."

"See, it would have been better if we had done this sooner." Charles chuckled, moving the metal rod away. "Archmage, tell me quickly."

Cunningham cursed under his breath, then said, "There are two ways. One is to go to the Frozen Wasteland and find the magic tower of the cursed faction there. From there, you can contact everyone in the world who studies curse magic, and you can find someone to cast a spell on you."

"The Frozen Wasteland?" Sharmo stroked his chin, raised his head, and repeated the place name. "It doesn't seem to be a place name in the Kingdom of Fran."

“It’s definitely not in the Kingdom of Fran,” Cunningham continued to explain. “That place is in the Kingdom of Argon, specifically in the north of Argon, bordering the Snowy Mountains.”

"The Snowy Mountains—" Sharl murmured, "Isn't that very close to the Dwarf Kingdom?"

"Yes, the Dwarf Kingdom is hidden in the northernmost snow-capped mountains."

"How can it be so far?" Charles frowned; this place was difficult to reach.

“Because,” Cunningham hesitated for a moment, then said bitterly as if he had given up something, “because the cursed faction is very hated. There was an incident in the past where the noble alliance attacked the faction's magic tower. They had no choice but to move to the cold wasteland. There are not many people there, and the dwarves are hiding in the belly of the snow mountain and are unwilling to come out, so it is safe enough there.”

"You know that curses are hated?" Charles said resentfully.

"That's why I'm researching how to eliminate the plague," Cunningham muttered to himself.

Upon hearing his words, Charles couldn't help but shake his head. It turned out that these curse mages were also aware of their reputation, and the reason why Cunningham had been relentlessly fighting the plague, even developing into a research madman, was to try to clear his name as a curse mage.

After all, the person who solved the plague will be remembered by all magicians.

"This method won't work. I can't leave the Nightmare Forest and go to that Cold Wasteland. Is there any other way?" After confirming that this path was impassable, Charles had no choice but to ask again.

"Another way?" Cunningham asked, trembling. This time, he didn't use Charles to threaten him and simply gave the answer, "There is another way."

"explain."

"If you've been cursed with a low-level transformation curse, you can go to the Church of Light and Justice and ask their bishop to cast a [Purification] spell. The bishop of the Church of Light can purify low-level transformation curses, but—"

"Just what?" Charles pressed.

"But those bishops don't like to do this because they are of high status and only nobles can persuade them to do it."

""

"Then, what about advanced transformation curses? Can a bishop from the Church of Light also use them?"

"This—" Cunningham hesitated for a few seconds before slowly saying, "In principle, even a bishop cannot purify a high-level transformation curse."

"Even the bishops can't purify it?" Charles frowned. "Neither can their monarch?"

"No," Cunningham replied firmly. "If there's anyone who can truly purify a high-level transformation curse, it's probably only the God of Light and Justice himself."

"The God of Light?" Charles raised an eyebrow. The fact that his advanced transformation curse required a god to purify it personally sounded utterly absurd.

"Are you kidding me, old man?" He picked up the metal rod again, ready to strike.

With a "whoosh," the evil book on the table flipped a page quickly, attracting Ciel's attention.

"Little Shu, what's up?"

"My Lord God, this fool shouldn't be lying. I didn't see any lies in his soul." The words of the evil book slowly appeared, but the content made Charles feel a little uneasy.

"How could that be? It's just a transformation curse spell." He sighed, feeling powerless at the thought that it would require the gods to personally intervene to break the spell.

"Strictly speaking, the transformation curse didn't exist before," the evil book continued to explain. "This magic appeared along with those runes during the 'Centennial Awakening of the Gods.'"

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