Chapter 108: The Voodoo Codex-Era of the Sorcerer(Truly an old wolf.)

Grimm hesitated for a moment, then signaled the rock python to spit out a large amount of debris—mud, sand, bits of grass, and fragments of vines—into a corner of the cave. He carefully sifted through the mess, searching diligently for any magical artifacts left behind by the fire-element apprentice wizard.

The goblin, Kabby, had long since awakened and obediently squatted nearby, helping Grimm with the dirty and exhausting work.

After thoroughly scouring the entire pile of earth, they managed to retrieve three magical artifacts.

One was a necklace capable of instantaneously casting a blazing fireball; another, a bracelet that enhanced fire-element meditation; and the third, a wand made of fiery coral.

All three were tailored for fire-element apprentices and were also usable by Grimm. However, given that he already possessed the Flame Lord’s Scepter, their significance was somewhat diminished.

Gritting his teeth, Grimm placed these three artifacts atop the Book of Spirits.

“Fourteen points,” the spirit’s voice announced, making Grimm clench his jaw in frustration.

Still not quite enough!

Grimm rummaged through his storage belt and pouch but found no suitable items left to contribute. As for the remaining possessions, giving up any of them would cause him real heartache.

Just as he was hesitating, a small opal, about the size of a goose egg, dropped onto the jewel pile.

“Fifteen points—the maximum threshold for unsealing the Book of Spirits has been reached. The book will now begin to unseal!” At that moment, the grimacing face on the cover radiated a faint aura of ancient spirit power. Arcane runes appeared across the book’s surface, then dissolved one after another amidst whispers that seemed both present and absent. Along with them vanished the magical gems and artifacts used as substitutes.

As the grimacing face on the cover gradually faded, the true form of the grimoire was revealed.

Grimm glanced at the goblin Kabby, whose face showed signs of exhaustion and pain, and a faint smile crept onto his own lips. He nodded approvingly at the little creature before shifting his full attention to the spellbook.

Previously, this tome could only be called the Book of Spirits. Until the reading prerequisites were met, the entire book was shrouded by guardian spirits. But now, with the conditions fulfilled and in accordance with an ancient pact, the spirits had vanished from this world, taking their rightful spoils, leaving the grimoire fully revealed before Grimm.

It was a black leather-bound tome, its corners reinforced with metal frames, lending it an air of weighty antiquity. Grimm hefted it in his hand; it contained only about twenty to thirty pages but weighed six or seven pounds—astonishingly heavy.

As Grimm’s fingers lightly traced the roughened hard leather cover, a string of pale green ghostly flames coalesced into a title, written in Ancient Ema language: The Voodoo Codex.

Because Grimm had chosen the highest-level unsealing, a profound bloodline connection blossomed the moment he grasped the book. He did not even need to turn the pages manually; as his spiritual energy permeated the Codex, the pages flipped automatically and paused at the sections that piqued his interest.

A brief glance through the text left Grimm deeply shaken.

The entire Voodoo Codex was essentially an encyclopedic compendium compiled by ancient sorcerers, chronicling everything related to voodoo—from its origins and rise to prominence, to various rituals and the detailed processes for crafting voodoo dolls.

Beyond the vast repository of knowledge, it also contained a multitude of eerie and inscrutable voodoo curses from antiquity: Pestilence Cauldrons, Bloodline Curses, Cataclysmic Plague Spells, Death’s Kiss, Plague Spirits... merely the names sent chills down the spine.

Yet these dark arts were remarkably simple to execute. Their ingredients were not rare or precious materials, but rather... humans.

More precisely, vast numbers of humans—their souls and flesh.

From cover to cover, the Voodoo Codex seemed to teach how to easily concoct a Pestilence Cauldron and then unleash Cataclysmic Plague Spells capable of annihilating entire continents.

Then, by fusing the collected plague variants, one could create a formidable Plague Spirit.

This Plague Spirit would become the most powerful general in the Codex holder’s arsenal.

Once unleashed, wherever it roamed, plagues would flourish and death would follow. Any unprotected beings lacking voodoo defenses would find it impossible to resist the infections that carried the very essence of voodoo.

Since ancient times, these Plague Spirits were the preferred war instruments for sorcerers dealing with stubborn lower-dimensional realms. Toss a Plague Spirit into a minor dimension, and a month later, one could enter with confidence to harvest the spoils.

The wails of countless souls and the abundant material resources to be seized—this was far easier than deploying legions of sorcerers to hunt enemies and suppress native resistance ceaselessly.

However, such tactics were cruel and often provoked fierce backlash from the dimension’s consciousness. After all, a dimension’s consciousness was the sum of all its matter and lifeforms, and when all its inhabitants perished, the consciousness itself would dissipate with them.

Hence, the owners of these Plague Spirits risked being cursed by the vanishing dimensional consciousness, becoming enemies of the dimension.

Once branded as such, a sorcerer would be loathed across all dimensions, including their birth dimension.

If such a figure set foot in any realm, they would face relentless attacks from all living beings until their death.

Thus, wielding such a devastating weapon stirred unease even in Grimm.

He painstakingly linked his spirit with the Voodoo Codex, copying its contents into his chip for gradual analysis, hoping to distill usable techniques from the ancient voodoo arts.

As he forged a deeper mental connection with the Codex, Grimm discovered it could also serve as a spellbook, its hidden space capable of storing six complete spirit models.

This meant that as long as he held the Codex, he had six free spells ready to cast instantly.

Of course, these six spirit models needed to be stored beforehand.

In essence, this was a miniature otherworldly version of his chip’s storage space!

At this realization, Grimm could not help but feel profound admiration for those ancient sorcerers.

Though they fought alone, without the slow accumulation of a perfected knowledge system like on Earth, their flashes of genius had created a mysterious space suffused with the aura of high technology.

Grimm offered a wholehearted salute.

He had once believed his own technique of solidifying spirit models in the mind was unique, yet here, in this strange other world, he found a fully analogous technology.

The difference was that these otherworldly spirit models would dissipate after use and had to be reinfused, making them somewhat less cost-effective than his chip space.

It seemed he had gained yet another powerful magical device—a formidable spell sequencer!

In future battles, without expending a shred of his own spiritual energy, Grimm could unleash a fierce barrage of magic through the spell sequencer’s instantaneous casting.

The thought thrilled him quietly.

To express his fondness for the Voodoo Codex, Grimm retrieved a half-meter silver chain from his storage belt and fastened the book to his waist.

After a few trials, he was satisfied. With a mere thought, the Codex would fly into his left hand, automatically flipping to the desired spell.

As for secrecy, Grimm had no concerns.

The book was completely under his control, maintaining a hidden, subtle link to his spirit at all times.

Even if the tome fell into another’s hands, they would see only blank pages of parchment.

Without Grimm’s consent, no one could glimpse its contents.

This, he thought, was the true significance of the highest-level unsealing.

While Grimm reveled in his newfound treasure, Kabby continued to sift through the mud and debris spat out by the rock python.

To their delight, the little goblin found fragments of the floral spirit’s original form.

The shriveled, bark-like shards still held traces of viscous green sap and strange fragments resembling internal organs.

It appeared that the floral spirit had undergone unexpected mutations during its evolution.

Yet, as Grimm examined these fragments, his mind was suddenly flooded with repeated chip alerts.

“Beep—special bloodline gene activity detected and recorded...”

The relentless series of notifications echoed in Grimm’s brain, his eyes betraying shock.

These alerts were not malfunctions repeating endlessly; each indicated the discovery of a new bloodline gene within the floral spirit’s fragments.

A total of twenty-seven novel bloodline genes had been detected, a realization that set Grimm’s thoughts racing.

How could a monster confined to a small lair have absorbed and devoured so many bloodline genes?

These genes were priceless treasures, highly sought after by apprentice sorcerers.

Even a small vial of purified ancestral bloodline could launch a fledgling onto the path of bloodline sorcery.

Twenty-seven new bloodline genes meant the terrifying floral spirit had consumed twenty-six beings bearing exotic bloodline genes.

Had twenty-six bloodline apprentices from various systems in the Dagon region ventured into the corrupted forest to meet their doom?

Certainly not!

Even gathering every bloodline apprentice in the entire Dagon area would not reach such a number.

Then how had this dreadful floral spirit accomplished what even formal sorcerers found impossible?