Tentacles like whips lashed through the air.
The core of another slime was split in two.
No. 13 flicked its tentacles with disdain, shaking off the evil residue on them.
This was already the sixteenth one.
Between the rugged gray-brown rocks in the distance, a few more bouncing figures were vaguely approaching.
These slimes weren’t strong, at least posing no threat to No. 13, who possessed a Knight Puchi body.
Compared to these annoying yet weak evils, what troubled it more was its own situation.
Suddenly being dumped in this barren and desolate edge area with sparse fungal mats, with no missions, no instructions, and even its inquiries sent to the Fungus Lord sinking like stones into the sea.
Of course, it was perfectly normal for the Fungus Lord to ignore a certain mushroom, but combining it with the current situation, No. 13 felt lost.
It had attempted to move toward areas with lush fungal mats, only to find itself restricted from going there—clearly a restriction from the Fungus Lord.
It… seemed to have been exiled.
Did it do something wrong?
No. 13 stopped its unconscious tentacle flicking and began to seriously recall its recent actions.
Leading the Black Demon to eat No. 7 and No. 8; as a result, the demon had a particularly good appetite that day and gnawed off half of No. 13 too.
Hiding the Black Demon’s glass ball in someone else’s Mushroom House and watching the Black Demon track it down by scent.
Agreeing with No. 12 to explore those closed caves in the dungeon together, then turning around and snitching to the Fungus Lord in the mycelial network.
Hmm… thinking carefully, it didn’t do anything particularly excessive, right?
Could it be that other Mushroom Tribe members voted together to expel it from mushroom citizenship?
No. 13 still had self-awareness regarding the point that its compatriots didn’t like it much.
Recently, they all hid far away from it.
No. 13 had also reflected on this; perhaps it shouldn’t always pit other mushrooms.
But every time it succeeded, the emotional fluctuations mixed with shock, confusion, fear, and even anger sensed through the mycelial network always made it unable to stop.
If it just behaved as an honest mushroom, what meaning was there in mushroom life?
It felt its biggest problem might be a lack of patience. Every time it saw a tiny opportunity to create a “little accident,” it couldn’t help but take action immediately.
However, Mushroom Tribe members being eaten by the Black Demon once or twice really didn’t count as anything.
Only the first few times did everyone have relatively large emotional fluctuations.
Later, even if caught, compatriots would at most just complain a few sentences in the mycelial network like “have to respawn again, so troublesome.” Even when No. 7 was swallowed, some weird excitement would be transmitted…
The result was that No. 13 failed to fully savor those complex and wonderful emotions as expected. Instead, due to frequently pitting mushrooms, it was thoroughly isolated and ostracized by its compatriots.
It had just made up its mind to work hard on correcting its shortcoming of lacking patience, and in the blink of an eye, it was dumped in this ghost place.
Sitting on a small patch of thin fungal mat, No. 13 lowered its mushroom cap, pondering where it should go now that it couldn’t return despite the fungal mat being there.
But suddenly, it locked eyes with two non-human figures in the distance.
…
A panting Succubus and an old Goblin who looked like he was about to fall apart were supporting each other, leaning behind a rugged reef. They looked exactly as if they had just run a life-threatening marathon.
“Shook… shook them off, right?” The Succubus Mengya almost collapsed on the rock, her chest heaving violently, her tail drooping weakly on the ground. She stomped flat a slime that approached nearby, splashing sticky juice all over the ground.
“Shh—quiet!” The old Goblin Old Fish pricked up his pointed ears, held his breath, and listened carefully for quite a while. Only after discovering there was only the bouncing sound of slimes did he let out a long breath. “The fake trail I left… probably worked. Should be safe for now.”
“Exhausted this old lady to death!” Mengya looked up and lamented, sweat sliding down her bewitching cheeks. “That bunch of bullying bastards! If they have the ability, go charge the Empire’s regular army at the port! Chasing us two old, weak, and women across three mountain gullies, what kind of skill is that!”
After panting a few rough breaths, she couldn’t help complaining again: “This ghost road from the port to High Fortress is too dangerous! Human adventurer squads are everywhere… I reckon it won’t be long before this West Coast area hangs the human flag again. What exactly are those big shots up in the Empire doing?”
Goblin Old Fish wiped the sweat off his face, his voice hoarse: “What can be done? Between the Empire and the port is just this bit of waterway, yet the recent ship loss rate is almost fifty percent! Who still dares to go to sea now? Whichever officer dares to mention the word ‘sail,’ guaranteed they’ll fall into the sea by accident the next day and become extra food for those monsters!”
Old Fish got angry as he spoke, poking Mengya with his withered fingers: “Besides, isn’t it all because of you! Obsessing over meeting that damn human again. The mission was over, yet you dawdled in this place for so long, forcibly missing the last ship back to the Empire! Now it’s great, can’t go back even if we want to!”
“I am a Succubus, hey! Seeing a rare good man and unable to move my legs, what’s the problem?!” Mengya flicked her purple hair, answering self-righteously.
Old Fish was directly angered into laughing, revealing uneven yellow teeth: “Then did you eat him? Hmm? Noble Lord Succubus? How do I remember that the way he looked at you wasn’t much different from looking at me, this wrinkly old Goblin? Just for this bit of wishful thinking, you got us into this state of stray dogs!”
“You… you… I saved you last time…”
“Let’s not talk about the past. Without me these two days, you would have been slaughtered by human adventurers several times already, right?”
The two argued back and forth non-stop, but as they argued, their voices gradually lowered.
Finally, they deflated almost simultaneously, collapsing on the cold stone.
After a long silence.
“Then… what to do next?” Mengya asked weakly, the tip of her tail sweeping the ground listlessly.
“Gamble on luck, continue crossing the area of human adventurer activity, and sneak toward High Fortress.” Old Goblin Old Fish’s voice was dry. “Or… turn around and go back to the port.”
“Back to the port? Can’t just hole up in that broken place at the port forever, right?”
Old Fish wiped his face and analyzed seriously:
“Won’t hole up forever. This ghostly state of the sea, if the Empire side can solve it, the shipping lane will naturally open. Then we just take a ship back. But if they can’t solve it…”
“If they can’t solve it, the place at the port loses its value. Continuing to fill it with demon lives and supplies is just a waste in vain.”
“In a while, the higher-ups will likely issue an order for an organized large-scale evacuation by land. When that time comes, we’ll leave with the large troop; it’s definitely better than the two of us breaking through alone right now.”
Mengya nodded but immediately sighed several times.
Following the large troop to wait for evacuation was certainly safe, but that meant wasting who knew how much time again. By the time she finally made her way back to the Empire…
She simply didn’t dare to think about how her harsh superior would deal with her delay.
Maybe the next special mission would be dispatching her directly to that legendary ghost place where “spies disappear faster than morning dew”—the Mushroom Capital.
After resting briefly and recovering a bit of strength, the two demons dejectedly started to turn around, heading back toward the port. Just then, Mengya suddenly glimpsed a solitary figure in the distance out of the corner of her eye.
“What’s wrong?” Old Fish, walking in front, immediately sensed her pause and asked alertly in a lowered voice.
Mengya’s slender tail pointed to that Puchi in the distance, her tone somewhat uncertain: “Say, is there a possibility we encountered a Mushroom Tribe member?”
“Mushroom Tribe? The Empire scattered so much manpower and couldn’t find one, and you still expect to find one here…” Old Fish habitually sneered and turned around, but the mocking words were stuck in his throat halfway.
His turbid old eyes narrowed, staring dead at that Puchi.
While they were observing it, that Puchi seemed to also sense the gaze and slowly raised its round mushroom cap.
Although Puchis had no facial features, Old Fish still felt the other party was also looking at them!
Moreover, this was an edge area with extremely low fungal mat coverage. Ordinary Puchis would almost never stay here for a long time.
Furthermore, the reaction of this Puchi before them seemed different from ordinary Puchis.
Old Fish’s voice became somewhat hoarse due to expectation:
“Could it… really be a Mushroom Tribe member?”
(End of Chapter)
