A highly sophisticated and intricate microscope stood before Grimm, a marvel of mechanical craftsmanship. Through an entire day and night of observation, the microcosmic world within the dissected cells of a white mouse gradually unveiled itself. Within this realm, Grimm discerned an enigmatic domain—one previously unimagined, unheard of, and entirely beyond comprehension. Astonishingly, this mysterious region seemed to reside in the cells of all living beings.
The region was so infinitesimally small that even this advanced microscope could only infer its existence through the residual traces of pigments injected into the mouse's cells. These pigments, influenced by the Nosehunter's modifications, confirmed the region's involvement in the mouse's "evolution." Without the aid of these pigments, Grimm might have spent years scrutinizing the cells without ever identifying this elusive domain. Even if he had seen it, he might not have noticed its significance.
Grimm silently christened this microscopic, unfathomable region "The Forbidden Zone of Life's Code."
Having confirmed that the Nosehunter's modifications were indeed distinct from conventional bloodline sorcery, and having glimpsed the next step forward, Grimm resolved to procure an even more advanced microscope to delve deeper into the Forbidden Zone of Life's Code. This milestone marked the completion of his primary mission.
Grimm's excitement was palpable, his cheeks flushed unnaturally with fervor. Though this groundbreaking discovery brought no immediate enhancement to his combat abilities and its potential seemed obscure, the innate curiosity of a sorcerer drove him to ecstasy. The sheer thrill of uncovering the unknown enraptured his very soul.
Since neither the black cat nor Valero hurried him away, Grimm lingered, shifting his focus to the frog cells parasitized by Blightspirals and the intact leg cells he had previously preserved.
After another half-day of meticulous research, Grimm reached a definitive conclusion: the frog's bloodline had undergone no discernible alterations.
The frog's "evolution," Grimm speculated, was likely linked to the Forbidden Zone of Life's Code. Could it be that the Blightspirals—a naturally occurring parasite—possessed the ability to interact with this microcosmic domain?
This revelation sent waves of exhilaration through Grimm, his elation beyond words. What kind of world could this Forbidden Zone of Life's Code represent? A realm capable of altering the very essence of life—such feats belonged in the realm of myths and deities! Even curses, as formidable as they seemed, merely grafted a soul onto another physical form temporarily. For instance, in Bissel City, Sorcerer Arroz once transformed a knight into a pig.
Yet, in the world of sorcerers, there was no place for gods or divine faith. Grimm was certain that if, by some chance, a god did appear in the sorcerer's realm, the ancient, terrifying sorcerers who had survived countless epochs would stop at nothing to capture and dissect it for study.
According to records, some indigenous worlds conquered by sorcerers had so-called "gods," but these beings were invariably slain and dissected, revealing themselves to be nothing more than exceptionally powerful lifeforms—far removed from the celestial beings of myth who created worlds and celestial bodies.
Given the boundless multiverse, even the worlds known, conquered, or rumored among sorcerers amounted to mere grains of sand in a vast ocean. This humility toward the unknown bred a cautious reverence. While sorcerers had never encountered true gods, they did not deny the possibility of their existence. Ultimately, their ambition lay in the relentless conquest of foreign worlds, harvesting knowledge to achieve omnipotence over all conceivable reality.
Still brimming with excitement, Grimm was startled when the laboratory door creaked open, and the black cat strolled in nonchalantly.
"Little one, the old man is likely to return today. If you value your life, you'd better leave. He may seem affable when in good spirits, but that's not always the case."
Grimm's expression shifted dramatically. He quickly thanked the black cat, gathered all his research materials, and departed in haste.
As he left, the black cat called after him, "If you need anything next time, contact Valero again. The terms remain the same."
"Got it!" Grimm replied without looking back. He had no intention of being caught trespassing in a sorcerer's laboratory, knowing full well the dire consequences—he might be obliterated on the spot.
Instead of returning directly to his quarters, Grimm headed to the first floor of Blacktower. In the materials section, he spent a magic stone to purchase a wild crane before heading back to his dwelling.
"Perhaps the next step is to investigate why wild cranes resist evolutionary changes after being parasitized by Blightspirals. For now, though, I need to cultivate a batch of mature Blightspirals as companion parasites—a process said to take considerable time."
With the trial exams drawing closer, Grimm devoted every moment to self-improvement.
Half a month later, following a meditation session, Grimm approached the wild crane he had been nurturing. Using his mental power, he sensed the Blightspirals developing in its stomach.
"Good. Another month, and these little ones will mature. Once they do, I'll..."
Ding...
A soul signal emanated from Grimm's crystal ball. Frowning, he activated it with magic power. Who would contact him during such a low-profile period?
"Grimm, I know you're preparing for the trial exams, but I had no choice but to reach out," said a familiar, rotund figure. It was the man responsible for consigning Grimm's scented potions.
"What's wrong?" Grimm asked.
The crystal ball flickered, revealing a different face—a face that stunned Grimm. It was the "beauty" sorcerer who had once taught his basics class, infamous for eating centipedes raw.
"You're the creator of Aphrodite's Venus? Impressive, little one. Such a marvelous invention," she remarked, her gaze piercing through the crystal ball.
Grimm forced a smile. For a sorcerer's apprentice, being noticed by a formal sorcerer was rarely a good sign unless it involved an offer of apprenticeship. Their power disparity was immense.
"Relax, I'm not one for random slaughter, nor am I inclined to take on apprentices," she said with a sigh. "I'm contacting you because of Aphrodite's Venus. Prepare thirty bottles tailored for women and name your price."
Grimm hesitated, his smile turning wry. "I'd love to, but with the trial exams looming..."
Her expression turned icy. "I said, name your price."
Startled, Grimm was about to agree when her demeanor softened again. "Never mind, no need to scare you. Call me Sorceress Elyane. I genuinely admire your creation. Since you're preparing for the trials, I won't push you. Deliver thirty bottles to the library in three days, and I'll give you a few trinkets that might prove invaluable during your trials."
Before Grimm could respond, the connection severed.
Grimm's face fell. Being noticed by a sorcerer because of a trivial scented potion was both unexpected and unnerving. Still, defying a sorcerer's request was unthinkable.
"If I need to gather materials for the potions, I should also get something for self-defense—especially against curses," he muttered, sprinting toward Blacktower.
In Blacktower, the merchant was waiting with a sly grin. "Grimm, I have just the thing for you."
The merchant's cunning smile and the magical trinkets he displayed promised safety but at a steep cost. Grimm's determination to balance risk and reward marked the beginning of a precarious negotiation—and an uncertain alliance.