Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

Chapter 417 The Soul of the Evil Book

Charles knew that the evil book could sense the emotions of the souls it consumed, but what disgusted him was that Cunningham said so many times that he "knew he was wrong," but he didn't show even the slightest bit of remorse.

"In other words, even on his deathbed, this guy maintained that he was a noble mage and disregarded goblins and other ordinary humans."

Charles curled his lip. These high-level archmages really couldn't be viewed with the mindset of ordinary people.

This is very similar to some people he had heard about in his previous life, who were high and mighty all day long, would gather together to do some strange activities, and would even eat their own kind. In their eyes, ordinary people were not considered their kind at all.

Not to mention, they've also developed recipes and various "ingredients".

"It seems there are quite a few like this in the Spellcasting Association as well." Charles stared at the pages of the evil book. After completely devouring Cunningham's soul, the black ink lines on the pages gradually disappeared into the seams. "We need to be even more cautious about the Magic Academy."

These self-important individuals hate anyone who dares to challenge them, and they will quickly disappear if someone insults them or reveals any "secrets" online.

I don't know if it's just a casual "disappearance" or a "disappearance" in a physical sense.

Charles himself preferred the latter.

“If goblins could learn the magic of ‘nobility,’ they would go mad and become hysterical,” Charles sighed, “just like Cunningham.”

Of course, he couldn't guarantee that all archmages were like that, but there would definitely be some, probably quite a few.

However, the matter of the magic academy is still a bit far off, and Sharl is not in such a hurry for the time being. Compared to that, the survival of the race is more important.

He glanced at the spores in the glass jar on the table. These things were clearly being cultivated and tended by Yunxia. Before, when Lan Luoli heard that Xia Er wanted to cultivate mushrooms on a large scale, she looked disgusted.

"We cave goblins only chose to eat that stuff because we had no other choice. But you're different. You have such delicious meat patties and fruits, as well as wild berries and dried fish. Why are you still clinging to mushrooms?"

That's what Lan Luoli said back then. She had lived in the kobold mine for a long time and could only eat a few mushrooms each day to fill her stomach.

Moreover, these mushrooms should not be eaten in large quantities, as they will accumulate toxins, causing dizziness and even fainting.

Not to mention, this thing also has a slightly bitter taste.

However, Charles didn't say much. He valued the high yield of the mushroom more than its taste.

It's already frightening enough that light can grow to ten meters tall.

As for taste and toxicity, there are still evil books out there.

Once the improved mushroom is planted, the results will be seen soon, and the entire tribe will no longer have to worry about its food source.

"So, how does the soul of a high-ranking archmage taste compared to the soul of a cardinal?" Charles reached out and tapped on a page of the evil book.

After devouring Cunningham's soul, no more words appeared on the pages of the evil book. It looked like a diner putting a piece of exquisite food into his mouth, chewing slowly, and savoring the taste of the soul.

"Delicious." After being "awakened" by Charles, the evil book immediately displayed words: "My lord, this guy's soul is even more delicious than the previous archbishop's."

Charles smiled as he looked at the handwriting. The evil book favored resilient souls, and Cunningham had devoted himself to researching the plague for decades. Even after being expelled from the Spell Union and wanted by the whole world, he had never wavered in the slightest.

In a sense, he is indeed very resilient.

"Alright, now that you've tasted it, it's time to get back to work." Charles waved his hand, stopping the flattering words on the evil book's page. "There's one more thing I need you to do."

As he spoke, he took out a sealed glass container containing a half-burned finger.

Only half of the finger was charred black, while the other half was grayish-white, and the nail had turned completely black.

"I need you to eat it, then analyze the disease inside, and find out the formula for a cure." As he spoke, Charles put on thick gloves and carefully opened the container, taking out the severed finger.

The moment the finger was pulled into the crease of the book by the ink line, the evil book folded to both sides, the entire book stood up, and all the pages were stretched open, looking like an "afro".

But clearly, the evil book was in great pain; all its pages were shaking back and forth, like a poisoned person curled up, trembling uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?" Charles asked anxiously.

As he questioned, black cracks began to appear on the top part of the evil book. These cracks spread rapidly from the seams to the entire page, growing larger and larger until the page shattered and paper fragments scattered into the air.

The scraps of paper fluttering in the air were still swallowed up by the black edges, and finally disappeared into the air, completely gone.

This unexpected event caused the evil book to lose a third of its pages, a loss several times greater than the mushrooms it had previously absorbed.

"My lord," the evil book said after a long time, its words reappearing, and the characters looked very small and weak. "I am alright."

"These are the human limbs I told you about before, infected with the rat-man plague," Charles reached out and slowly stroked the pages of the evil book, as if comforting a beloved dog. "How is it? Is it okay?"

"There shouldn't be any problems." The words in the evil book appeared intermittently, "It's just that I need a little time."

"It's alright, there's no rush," Charles waved his hand. Compared to the mushrooms, analyzing the ratman plague was indeed not as urgent.

"If it's just about analyzing and finding the right drug formula, it won't take me much time," the evil book continued. "Compared to life-improvement experiments, this kind of analytical experiment is easier."

"Is that so?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "Then it all depends on you."

As he spoke, he reached out and patted the page, as if he were encouraging his subordinate by patting him on the shoulder.

This evil book seems to be quite a powerful "spiritual object," and Xia Er couldn't help but feel a little curious. "Little book, you—"

"Sir, please feel free to ask me anything."

Charles took a deep breath and, after a few seconds, tentatively asked, "When you were alive, I mean, before you were a spirit, what kind of person were you?"

He knew that these spirits contained the souls of living beings, just like Diana's "four uncles," whose original owner was the captain of the Toucan pirate ship.

The fact that this evil book can guide those who come into contact with it to conduct life experiments, and that it can also improve life forms more efficiently, makes one wonder if the soul imprisoned in the book must be very powerful, perhaps even a great "scientist" who is well-versed in life and the soul.

"I—" After hearing Ciel's question, words finally began to appear on the pages of the evil book after a long time. "I can't remember who I am. When I was made into a spirit, my soul was not complete."

"Hmm?" Charles looked at the answer in the evil book and felt deeply puzzled.

"Sometimes, creating a spirit object doesn't require the entire soul; you only need to extract the necessary part from the Nether Sea, such as a person's knowledge or personality." The words in the evil book quickly appeared, explaining to Xia Er, "So I wasn't preserved in my memories; only my knowledge was extracted."

"That sounds a bit cruel," Charles sighed softly.

"Therefore, I humbly beg the True God that in the future there may be an opportunity to relieve my suffering, release this part of my soul, and return it to the Underworld Sea, to peace, instead of continuing to sink into despair."

Looking at the evil book's request, Charles nodded seriously.

"However, regarding the sample you gave me earlier," the evil book immediately changed its attitude and began working diligently after seeing that Charles had agreed, "it's very strange."

"Strange? Is it strange that it's the ratman plague?"

"No, not only that," the words in the evil book paused, as if in thought. A few seconds later, the words reappeared. "It should be said that this thing shouldn't have formed naturally. This plague should be man-made, no—"

The words in the evil book suddenly grew larger: "It should be said that even the rat people were man-made."

"Man-made?" Xia's eyes turned cold. Could it be another life experiment conducted by a high-ranking archmage from the Spell Union?

Wait, he reached out and pressed his hand on the page. "The rat-men look almost like humans, you could say they're humans transformed into beasts. Could it be that they—"

"Yes, just as you thought," the evil book quickly revealed its words, "I can sense that the carrier of this plague must have been a human body used for research."

"Just as I thought." Charles said bitterly. Those high-ranking archmages of the Sorcerer's Guild were still hunting down Cunningham, but he didn't expect that someone within their ranks would be conducting such disgusting experiments, turning people into rat-men and then letting these rat-men carry deadly plagues.

Thinking of this, he slammed his fist on the table. "It's completely rotten."

However, the pain in his hand made Charles realize something: "This plague can directly infect other creatures, right?"

"Yes, humans, dwarves, goblins, and even animals can be infected."

"Then—" Charles hesitated for a moment, "if this plague spreads throughout the world, wouldn't its creators also be infected?"

"In principle, that's how it should be, unless the creators of the plague have other ways to achieve immunity." The words in the evil book were somewhat broken, and it was clear that it was just stating its own deductions.

"Then why did this guy get himself into trouble if there was no vaccine to prevent it?" For a moment, Xia Er couldn't understand what the archmage who created the ratmen was thinking. If they were just failed experiments, he could have just killed them with a big fireball. Why did he throw them into the Nightmare Forest and watch them form a race?

Didn't this guy ever consider that he would be in danger if the ratmen started to proliferate?

"Perhaps," the evil book tentatively stated its deduction, "that the person who created it never intended to develop immunity."

"Never thought about it?"

"Yes, he may have thought that the plague could spread all over the world, and even if he himself would be infected, the devastation of the world by the plague was more important to him than his own life."

"A madman." Charles slammed his fist on the table again. "How could there be such a madman?"

After hearing Charles's angry rebuke, the pages of the evil book fell silent. After a long while, a line of small text appeared: "There are many madmen in this world, and—"

Seeing that the true god had stopped speaking and was instead staring at its own page, it hesitantly uttered the following words: "Moreover, this experiment gives me a sense of déjà vu."

"Does this seem familiar?" Charles narrowed his eyes. "Could it be one of your experiments?"

"No, no, no," the evil book quickly revealed its words, and even the cover lifted slightly, subtly shifting a few times, trying to move a little further away from Xia Er. "This is definitely not the work of a villain. Such a crude experiment is not in the style of a villain at all."

"Hmm————" Charles nodded slightly. He had to admit that compared to the great mages of Cunningham who conducted life experiments, the Evil Book was much more arrogant.

Just as it mocked Cunningham as an idiot, Shire could even imagine the evil book saying, "If I were to create this plague, I would never need a ratman as a vessel, and I would be guaranteed not to be tracked by others. At the same time, the plague would increase its mutation capabilities, making it impossible for those who want to study and deal with the plague to even begin."

"If it were made by a villain—" Sure enough, words began to appear in the evil book, but before it could finish speaking, Charles pressed a hand on the page. "Stop, I know what you're going to say."

After being stopped by Ciel, the evil book indeed stopped its self-praise.

"You should try your best to analyze it first." Charles closed the evil book with annoyance and put it on the corner of the table.

It must be said that this book is indeed a cursed book. If an ordinary person gets their hands on it, they will definitely be tempted and corrupted, eventually leading to a great disaster.

Meanwhile, Ciel became even more interested in the incomplete soul within the evil book. What kind of being could possess such powerful abilities and have such high attainments in life experiments?

Speaking of the soul, he recalled the silent soul that Spencer had mentioned to him before.

It was the soul that Cunningham had imprisoned within the construct.

According to Spencer, the construct was pieced together from a large number of human corpses. In order to ensure that this huge thing could operate according to Cunningham's will, a mind-receiving "device" had to be implanted inside.

And this soul is the receiving device.

However, unlike others, this soul seems to have its consciousness blocked. It can only passively receive instructions, but it can't remember who it is or what it used to do.

This puzzled Charles as well.

However, there is one good thing: the soul keeps repeating the two names in a low voice.

"Lila—Luna—"

>