Imhotep: What Exactly Do You Want?!

To ordinary people, the Book of the Dead was more than a book that recorded incantations and spells. It was also a divine artifact, one that could be used to communicate with the gods.

Only by holding the Book of the Dead and reciting its incantations could ordinary people trade years of their lives for divine power and cast spells.

Hao Shuai thought about it and realized that made sense. Otherwise, if anyone who knew Ancient Egyptian language and the incantations could sacrifice some of their lifespan to resurrect the dead, wouldn't everyone be able to do it?

If that were the case, Hao Shuai might as well make countless copies of the incantations and teach them to people all over the streets. Wouldn't that mean nobody in the world would ever die?!

Of course, Hao Shuai had only thought about it idly. He couldn't care less what conditions were needed to cast the incantations. They had no effect on him anyway.

As Hao Shuai's voice rang through the night, rising and falling dramatically, a fierce wind suddenly whipped up around them. It carried an ominous feeling and a piercing wail like the cries of vengeful ghosts.

A low growl came from the stone coffin, and Imhotep leaped out of it.

Calling him Imhotep hardly seemed right. He was little more than a skeleton, a mostly decayed mummy. Not a patch of skin remained intact anywhere on his body. Dark veins crisscrossed beneath the rotting flesh, and stark white bones showed through. His dry, decayed body was riddled with holes, as hollowed out as a beehive. The sight was so revolting it made the back of one's head tingle.

The moment Imhotep emerged, he sensed the presence of the living and lunged at Selena.

At the same time, swarms