North suburbs of Mushroom Capital. Sorarin led her squad into an abandoned village.
Thick dust coated everything. Cobwebs swayed gently under the eaves. Yet the wooden houses remained mostly intact.
After all, the villagers had only left a few months ago.
With the new city rising, nearby villages like this had been the first to empty, whole communities relocating and leaving empty homes to rot.
The “northern ruins” clue from the blacksmith pointed here.
Farther places matching the description were beyond a day’s walk for ordinary people.
The team searched the entire village thoroughly but found nothing.
It was genuinely deserted; no signs of recent activity.
The few cellars discovered were just normal village storage, long since emptied.
Another fruitless search.
Everyone was mentally prepared. The clue came from a drunkard’s ramblings; they couldn’t even be sure the missing person had come here. Finding nothing was normal.
But Sorarin dutifully checked every cellar herself.
Just as the team prepared to leave, she suddenly raised a hand to stop them and ducked back into one cellar.
In this seemingly ordinary underground space, something felt off.
When she noticed the lone mushroom in the corner, realization struck. “Mushroom! Right! This place has been abandoned for months. Why is there only one mushroom instead of them growing everywhere like the other cellars?!”
She carefully checked every corner, confirming no hidden fungal mat, then acted without hesitation.
**“All that passes leaves a trace!”**
[Truth Vision] activated. Sorarin’s pupils turned silver.
What met her eyes: a mess of footprints on the floor and a faint yet discernible deep-blue ritual array!
She immediately called the assistant Farr had assigned. “Report to Farr. I need reinforcements. I’ll also request support from the Church.”
“Lady Sorarin, what did you find?”
“This color… I’ve seen it before. It’s a cult,” her voice was grave. “Hand of Passage!”
…
Meanwhile.
Seeing Vera’s group enter the farm first, Aidin and Norris could only hold position, hiding in the woods outside and watching developments.
Vera’s team had been hired by a tall, thin man named Barton.
They had worked with Barton pleasantly several times before. This time he had sought them out.
Barton was a friend of the farm’s original owner. He said anxiously to Vera, “My friend always dreamed of owning a farm. He finally did, yet sold it without losing money? And now I can’t contact him at all. Every time I tried asking the new owner, I was rudely chased off. Please come with me. I just want to ask him face-to-face. I promise you won’t have to do anything illegal.”
The job wasn’t hard, the pay good, and it was an old client. Vera had no reason to refuse.
The group entered the farm. Everything looked normal.
Many “mushroom farmers” were busy, carrying harvested mushrooms into storage.
In the farmhouse, they met a well-dressed middle-aged man: the new owner, Gavin.
Gavin’s face was cold; he clearly wasn’t welcoming.
“What business do you have? We’re busy. No idlers allowed.”
Barton stepped forward agitatedly. “Mr. Gavin! I just want to know why my friend sold the farm! Where is he now? Why can’t I reach him?”
Gavin remained polite but dismissive. “Mr. Barton, the sale documents are all at the city lord’s mansion. Feel free to check them if you doubt. As for where your friend went afterward, that’s none of my concern. Please leave.”
While Barton argued with Gavin, the elf Cirian quietly moved closer to Vera and whispered, “Vera, something’s wrong. The life force of those ‘farmers’ around us far exceeds normal people.”
Vera glanced around, thought for a moment, put on a helpless expression, and pulled the emotional Barton back, trying to ease tensions. “Mr. Barton, see? Mr. Gavin says the paperwork is in order. Maybe your friend just doesn’t want to be disturbed? Pressing like this isn’t quite right. Shall we head back?”
Gavin added, “Exactly. Maybe he’s off in the archipelago living it up? You’re not looking for him but keep bothering me. It’s troublesome!”
Barton suddenly shook off Vera’s hand and pointed at Gavin. “Impossible! He can’t stand sea air. Gets rashes the moment he’s near the ocean. He could never plan to go to the archipelago! He loved bragging about that to everyone. You bought his life’s dream from him. How could you not have heard it?”
Vera: “You idiot…”
Barton’s shout froze the atmosphere in the farm.
The evidence wasn’t conclusive, but Gavin’s smile vanished completely, replaced by menace.
He had seen Barton wouldn’t let this go.
“Obstinate. Looks like gentle persuasion won’t work.” Gavin said coldly, stepping back and signaling.
The “farmers” who had been working or watching instantly straightened. Their eyes turned vicious. They swiftly drew hidden blades from every corner, moving in eerie unison, instantly surrounding Vera’s group and Barton, blocking all escape.
Not only that, mana fluctuations rose among the farmers; clearly some were mages. They were no ordinary people!
Gavin had somehow donned hooked claws. “Since you won’t leave nicely, allow me to send you off… permanently.”
Barton’s mouth fell open. He had thought this was at worst a forced sale, but the situation was clearly far bigger than he imagined?
Lost for words, Barton froze. Even as Gavin’s claws slashed toward him, he forgot to dodge.
Vera yanked Barton behind her. She no longer had time to complain about this disaster of a client.
She quickly ordered, “Fiyin, buffs! Filing, explosive arrows, collapse this place! Cirian, guard the rear. I’ll break us out!”
…
In the distance, noticing the fight erupt, Norris instantly leaped from the trees but forced himself to stop.
After getting the Boss’s approval through the mycelial network, he dropped his reservations and charged in, Aidin at his side.
(End of Chapter)
