Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

Chapter 416 No Regrets

"Can we get the results now?" Charles looked at the evil book on the table with some delight.

After returning from the ant nest, he discovered that the evil book that had been closed on the table had opened automatically at some point, and when Charles entered the stone house, it even turned the pages automatically, as if afraid that Charles would not notice it.

As Charles looked at the pages, words quickly appeared in the evil book: "Yes, True God, the experiment is complete."

"You said before that the poison had been removed?" Charles asked with great interest.

"Yes," the handwriting in the evil book even showed some wavy lines, looking somewhat smug. "The poison was removed a few days ago, but I think that removing the poison from this kind of mushroom is not enough, so I continued to study it and tried to improve its taste."

"The taste?" Charles raised an eyebrow. To be honest, he had never eaten mushrooms before. He had only asked about them from the cave goblin, Blue Lori, but she had blinked her blue eyes and shook her head with some disdain.

In other words, this thing not only has mild toxicity, but also tastes quite ordinary.

Something that even goblins would find repulsive must be beyond description. Although Lan Luoli hadn't eaten many good things, she had at least read some books and could understand what "delicious" meant in those books.

"Now, I've improved the mushrooms; the original bitterness is gone, replaced by a subtle sweetness."

"Sweet?" Ciel smiled and nodded. If it has a little sweetness, it should contain some sugar, which would make it more suitable as food.

Many types of fungi do not perform photosynthesis; they primarily rely on absorbing nutrients from other organisms for survival. This results in mushroom fruits not containing starch or other substances that provide energy.

However, if it contains sugar, it can provide some calories.

"You did very well." Charles smiled and reached out to tap a page of the evil book, a gesture that caused the page to tremble involuntarily.

"To receive your praise," the words began to appear intermittently on the page, revealing the evil book's excitement. "It is truly an honor for this humble one."

As a goblin, Sharl didn't actually understand how these "spirits" worked. He had only heard a little about them from the old craftsman Marshall. But he had to admit that with the help of the evil book, he was better able to cope with the shortage of resources in the forest.

There aren't that many souls right now, otherwise Ciel would really like to stuff a lot of things into the evil book and see if it can improve everything.

For example, bushes that can produce huge wild fruits, and wild vegetables that can grow into a large, round carpet.

But there's no way around it; soul fragments aren't something that's easy to obtain, so Ciel can only fantasize about it for now.

As the trembling of the evil book subsided, many thin black lines slowly "grew" on the open pages. After growing to a certain height, these lines all stuck into the seams of the book, and then, as if they were prying something out of the evil book's throat, they forcefully pulled something outward.

Nearly ten seconds later, just as Charles was about to ask if he needed help, with a "pop," a purple sphere the size of a human head was pulled directly out from the tear in the book.

"Huff, huff, huff," the crevices of the evil book slowly closed, and words began to appear on the pages, but those crooked words looked more like it was panting heavily. "This, this is, the spores after the research."

"Is this the spore?" Charles reached out and took a spore from the tray formed by the black lines. "Can we just plant it directly?"

"Yes," the handwriting in the evil book was still a bit crooked, but it was more normal than before, so it should be slowly recovering. "Just plant it in humus, or in a fallen tree trunk, or even the carcass of a dead beast."

"It takes some time to germinate, but once a fruiting body germinates, it can grow continuously as long as the nutrients are sufficient." On the page, the evil book continued to explain, as if afraid that Xia Er would not know how to plant it.

It must be said that goblins really don't have the talent for farming.

"Don't worry, I won't waste your efforts." Charles smiled and solemnly placed the soft purple spore in the middle of a glass jar. "You've been a great help this time, and I'd love to reward you, but I don't know what I can do."

The evil book has indeed made many contributions. It saved Sophia before and now it has provided spores, which can be considered merits.

If Charles hadn't paid attention to what the evil book was doing before because he was still wary of this guy, he had now seen through him to some extent. This evil book was more interested in riding on his divine aura and probably had some special purpose.

"If, if I am fortunate enough," tiny words began to appear on the pages of the evil book, much smaller than before, and appearing very slowly, like a servant hesitantly asking his master what reward he wanted, "could you remove the shackles on my soul on the day the True God gains divine power?"

"Shackles on the soul?" Charles frowned, looking at the tiny handwriting. "What does this mean?"

"My soul is sealed within this book—no, it should be said that I have become one with this magic book. From the day this book was completed, I have been unable to leave it." The words of the evil book began to appear continuously, and the font had even turned into ancient cursive script. If Charles hadn't had a noble education, he might not have been able to understand the cursive script. "If you are willing to reward me, you can release me and let my soul return to the Underworld Sea."

"If I destroy this book, will I not be able to release you?" Charles reached out and tapped a page.

The pages of the evil book began to turn, as if a person was shaking their head. "No, sir, this cannot release me. Even if this book is burned to ashes, my soul can only cling to the ashes and cannot leave. And if the ashes are blown away by the wind, my soul will disintegrate."

"Soul annihilated?" That phrase came to Ciel's mind. "Isn't there any other way?"

"No, no, this is a rule set by the gods, a kind of application of magic. To break this rule, one can only use even more powerful divine power to dispel it." The small characters in the evil book slowly emerged, eventually becoming even smaller.

"The rules of the gods?" Charles frowned. He had heard this kind of thing before. For example, those who learn magic must endure the pain of the magical plague, and the pain is unavoidable because it is a rule set by the gods.

For example, the Nightmare Forest is constantly polluted by evil energy, and even after thousands of years, it still cannot be eliminated. This was also ordained by the gods.

How many rules did the ancient gods actually establish?

This god really likes to make rules.

"Alright, I promise you," Ciel nodded. "If that day ever comes, I will definitely help you remove your shackles and free you."

Charles's words caused the pages of the evil book to tremble again. It was clear that the book was very excited, as if it had finally made the right bet.

"However, there is a reward I can give you now." Charles smiled, his gaze turning to the bone prison not far away, where the soul of the high-ranking archmage Cunningham was still imprisoned.

Unlike his previous vigor, Cunningham had become noticeably weaker after a few days.

Spencer said that cracks would appear on the outer shell of the Soul Sphere after ten days, or that these cracks were already there. It was because of these cracks that people who study magic can interact and resonate with the magic field. However, these cursed magicians only cast a "body curse" on themselves, thus temporarily "covering up" the cracks.

If the cracks reappear, Cunningham's soul will gradually dissipate into the air and soon "vanish into thin air".

"You should try him first." Charles opened the bone prison and pulled out Cunningham's soul sphere. When his hand grasped the soft sphere, he could clearly feel Cunningham's resistance.

The green soul orb's color deepened slightly, and at the same time, a slight force came from his palm, causing the orb to drift away from Xia's hand.

"Let's try him first." Charles smirked. He was determined to feed the evil book to Cunningham. Only by increasing the number of pages in the evil book could they begin to research methods to deal with the rat-men plague.

Charles believed in the adage "the emperor doesn't starve his soldiers," and he loathed the way things were done in his previous company—wanting employees to work overtime but not wanting to pay them more, with a disgusting attitude of "the company is your home, and working for the company is your duty."

So if you want the evil book to research countermeasures, you should first feed it.

As Cunningham's soul was placed on the pages of the evil book, thin black threads immediately wrapped around the green sphere, and then Charles heard a series of roars.

"Please, don't do this. I can help you, I can help you break the transformation curse."

Cunningham's voice was unusually urgent, completely different from his arrogant attitude of the past few days.

"No need, you've already explained the method." Charles smiled nonchalantly.

"I can still help you," Cunningham shouted, the bottom of the Soul Orb already embedded in the pages of the book. "You need a magic teacher, right? I can teach you many spells."

"Oh, sorry, I have a teacher," Charles nodded. "I recently mastered a powerful spell."

He thought to himself, "The Demon Lord's lustful magic must be much more powerful than the magic of the curse faction."

"I... I can still help you," the sphere was already half pulled into the pages of the book, and Charles could even see the pages of the evil book trembling slightly, as if he had tasted something delicious and his whole body was excited. But Cunningham was still struggling; he didn't want to die at all. "I can help you deal with the Spell Alliance. I'm also one of their wanted criminals. There's a saying that the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"7

"Friends?" Charles chuckled. "Is that what you think when you're dissecting goblins, playing with their brains and organs, watching them want to die but can't?"

"Now, you want to be friends with a bunch of goblins?"

As he spoke, he reached out and pressed his hand directly onto the green sphere, gently pushing it down as if he were deliberately stuffing it into the evil book's mouth because he was afraid the evil book wouldn't be able to swallow it.

"I...I know I was wrong, please," Cunningham's voice became incredibly urgent, making one wonder if he was being doubtful, yet his attitude in admitting his mistake was unusually sincere. "Please, please give me another chance."

"When you picked up a scalpel and stood in front of the goblins tied to the lab table, did they beg for mercy like this?" Charles chuckled coldly. "Oh, no, you probably don't understand their goblin language. To you, these guys are just too noisy."

"No, that's not it." Cunningham's Soul Orb trembled incessantly, its shape swaying like a bouncy jelly.

"Hmph," Charles chuckled and shook his head. "Cunningham, you're supposed to be a high-ranking archmage. How can you act like this in front of a goblin? Behave yourself and don't embarrass yourself."

As he spoke, he pressed the Soul Orb again, and this time two-thirds of the green orb was swallowed by the pages.

"I can still help, I'm still useful—" Cunningham roared, his unwilling voice becoming even more raucous, making listeners feel extremely uncomfortable.

"You are still useful," Charles nodded. "Your body and those magical equipment are still intact. After you die, I will find a way to send them to the Spellcasting Association. I heard that completing the wanted poster can get the Spellcasting Association to do something for me. You see, you have indeed helped me."

"You, you damned, damned brother—" In the end, Cunningham struggled, but was completely wrapped up by dense black lines and pulled into the evil book, from which he could no longer be seen.

"How is it?" Charles stared at the evil book, which, after devouring Cunningham's soul, lay quietly on the table without making a sound, just like a diner looking up at the ceiling while slowly savoring the true taste of the ingredients when eating a new dish.

With a "whoosh," just as Charles finished speaking, a large number of pages suddenly burst forth from the middle of the evil book, just like when it had devoured Cardinal Willid.

No, it should be said that this time there are more pages appearing at once, perhaps because before it was only fragments of Willid's soul, while this time it is Cunningham's entire soul.

The thickness of the evil book also increased several times, and even the cover became several sizes larger.

"Delicious, my lord," words began to appear on the pages of the evil book. This time, the handwriting looked very neat, which must have satisfied the evil book. "Compared to the previous soul fragments, this fool's soul has a variety of emotions."

"Oh?"

"A lot of resentment, anger, fear," the evil book savored, beginning to explain the flavor of Cunningham to Charles, "anger, and a trace of doubt."

"Is he wondering why I didn't accept him?" Charles shook his head with a smile. "Is there any regret in his heart?"

"Regret?" The evil book paused, as if searching, and after a few seconds, words appeared: "No, sir, this fool has not a single trace of regret."

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