Fifteen galloped on horseback along the winding dirt road, the horse’s hooves kicking up clouds of dust.
Behind him, the Puchi used several mycelial tentacles to tightly wrap around the leather straps beneath the saddle, securing itself to the bouncing horse’s back.
Fifteen didn’t like the feeling of being ridden by a Puchi, so he’d driven it off several times.
Actually, after crossing the Scarecrow Abyss, he no longer needed the Puchi. Fifteen was too lazy to spend time selling it for two gold coins, so he’d just released it.
Yet this Puchi seemed to have fixated on Fifteen. No matter how he drove it away, it could always catch up to the galloping horse again with astonishing speed.
Over short distances, its small body could actually burst out with agility no less than a fine horse, always suddenly darting out at turns and leaping back onto the horse.
So spirited, Fifteen ultimately just let it follow along.
He figured he could hand it over to his master and the others for study later—perhaps they could discover something.
The sights along the return journey weighed heavily on one’s heart. Endless streams of refugees passed Fifteen going the opposite direction.
High Fort fortress had been breached, Threehill City was besieged and in imminent danger.
Though ordinary people’s information lagged considerably, after so much time, it had finally spread.
Many held pessimistic views about the future situation and chose to flee with their families like this before the flames of war spread to them.
Fifteen had no strong opinion about these people’s flight—they were just trying to survive. But he himself would absolutely never become such a stray dog.
If the kingdom was destined to perish and humanity destined to be enslaved, he’d rather die on Threehill City’s battlefield.
The only thing he found somewhat strange was that the Puchi masters he encountered along the way were behaving rather abnormally.
Whenever Fifteen approached them, these Puchi masters would suddenly tense up, casting wary looks at him, even faintly carrying hostility.
Thinking it over, the problem could only lie with the Puchi following closely behind him.
Had they seen this Puchi’s special nature and high value and become greedy?
That wasn’t right either—surely not every Puchi master he encountered could be like this?
Fifteen knew this world didn’t lack evil people, but surely there had to be at least one good person among the Puchi masters?
Fifteen secretly decided that next time he encountered a Puchi master, even if it delayed his journey somewhat, he would definitely get to the bottom of this.
Half a day later, he got his wish and ran into another Puchi master.
This Puchi master appeared quite wealthy. While others had their belongings on carts, two horse-drawn carriages followed behind him, and he had over twenty Puchis with him.
You had to know, not all places along this route had fungal mats—the mana potion consumption for over twenty Puchis was no small sum.
Sure enough, when the convoy met Fifteen, that well-dressed Puchi master’s expression changed drastically and he quickly assumed a defensive posture.
What surprised Fifteen even more was that instead of hurrying away like the others, the man directed his guards to spread out and block the road.
“Finally someone dares to make a move?” Fifteen sneered inwardly, his right hand quietly moving to his sword hilt.
However, unexpectedly, that Puchi master shouted from a distance: “What’s your game, mage?”
This statement left Fifteen, who was preparing for battle, stunned.
What was his game? Shouldn’t he be the one asking that?
And… mage?
Fifteen looked down at his standard swordsman outfit—a longsword at his waist, not even the shadow of a staff anywhere on his person.
He looked around. On this road, besides him and this convoy, there was no one else.
“Is there some misunderstanding?” Fifteen called out. “I’m no mage!”
Before his words finished, sword light flashed.
Everyone present felt their vision blur. Fifteen’s sword had already returned to its sheath, while a tree as thick as a bowl beside the road slowly tilted and crashed to the ground with a thunderous sound.
“I… I see it was a misunderstanding…” The Puchi master’s face instantly turned deathly pale, his forced smile stiff beyond measure. “We’ll clear the way right now…”
Fifteen urged his horse forward a step: “So could you please…”
“Don’t come any closer!” The Puchi master retreated in terror, nearly tripping over the hem of his own robe.
Seeing the man was overly frightened, Fifteen had no choice but to rein in his mount and control it to back up two steps.
That convoy immediately fled around him in panic, raising dust as they departed, as if avoiding some danger.
Fifteen watched their hasty retreat, recalling the brief exchange just now, and a somewhat absurd guess surfaced in his mind.
He fumbled in his travel pack for a moment and pulled out a gray-white stone with peculiar patterns.
As magic power flowed in, the stone’s surface glowed faintly. He reversed his hand and pressed the stone against the mushroom cap of the Puchi behind him.
Then he finally understood the reason Puchi masters had been wary of him all along.
“That one with the crossbow—one charge and dead! Baldy could be solved in ten seconds! That coward in front is utterly pathetic! Run, run, you bunch of trash! This great Lord Nine is in a good mood today and will spare your lives! Kekekeke!”
Then, the Puchi seemed to realize something: “Why is this reserve mushroom servant still standing here? Everyone’s gone far away—why aren’t we continuing? Stop touching this great lord’s mushroom cap!”
With that, the Puchi extended a tentacle, trying to push away Fifteen’s hand holding the stone.
But suddenly heard Fifteen’s voice in its mental projection: “What… exactly are you?”
Fifteen felt the world had probably gone mad—a Puchi actually had complete thinking ability and was constantly assessing whether he could kill the people they encountered along the way.
Considering that only Puchi masters had shown wariness, could Puchi masters more easily sense this Puchi’s thoughts?
Receiving Fifteen’s mental projection, Number Nine wasn’t alarmed but instead excitedly twisted about: “You actually learned to communicate? Worthy of the reserve mushroom servant I’ve chosen! Hahahaha!”
Fifteen’s face darkened, while the Puchi took the opportunity to jump back onto his head: “Good that we can communicate. Let me tell you, don’t drive me down again. This position is specially meant for…”
Before it finished speaking, it was lifted up by Fifteen holding its short leg upside down, mycelial tentacles flailing wildly in the air: “Let me go! Even if you’re a tiny bit stronger than me, you can’t treat me like this!”
Only after being placed back in the front saddle pouch did Number Nine sulkily quiet down.
After a round of communication, Fifteen finally figured out this was a special Puchi that called itself “Number Nine,” belonging to some group that called themselves the “mushroom race.”
“So… why are you following me?” Fifteen urged his horse forward, unable to help asking.
“Pointy-ears’ place was too boring—not even a decent fight all day long.” Number Nine’s mycelium curled. “Your skills are good, and your name has a number in it—you should be somebody among humans, right? We join forces and can definitely have a killing spree! Just like when you chopped off that human’s head earlier!”
Fifteen: “…”
In his heart, Fifteen became even more determined to bring this Puchi to show his master and the bishop and others this curiosity and study it thoroughly.
However, he still asked with some curiosity: “You know I’m heading to a battlefield? Once there, you could die at any moment.”
“Battlefield? I want to go! Must go!” Number Nine excitedly kicked its short legs. After a while it asked again, “Are we going to chop humans or chop demons?”
…
After traveling day and night, Fifteen finally caught sight of Threehill City in the distance with its earth-shaking sounds of battle—the demon attack had already begun!
Yet Fifteen breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t arrived too late.
(End of Chapter)
