Chapter 23 – The Marsh Changes Hands

Recently, Hushwind’s adventurers had noticed a sudden decline in monster activity on the Fifth Stratum of the Amethyst Deep.

The Gnoll tribes had withdrawn deep into their forest and stopped hunting beyond it. No Emerald-Eyed Frogs remained at Poisonmist Lake, and even the Caustic Slimes that wandered the stratum had become scarce.

Only the Crystal Bats in the western caverns and the local Rock Lizards behaved as usual.

Theories about the change abounded.

One adventurer claimed to have sensed violent mana fluctuations in the Marsh Zone. The Parasitic Trees must have gone berserk and frightened away the surrounding monsters.

Others called it a sign of an approaching Monster Tide. The Adventurers’ Guild was the recognized authority, however, and it had issued no warning. Few believed that theory.

The most ridiculous explanation came from Nick, the town drunk. He swore he had watched a group of Puffcaps slaughter every Emerald-Eyed Frog in the lake.

Everyone laughed. Nick must have become so drunk inside the dungeon that he could no longer distinguish reality from his own dreams.

Puffcaps occupied the bottom of the food chain even on the First Stratum. The idea of them exterminating Fifth Stratum monsters was less credible than the Monster Tide.

* * *

Meanwhile, Evan, killer of isolated Gnolls, exterminator of Emerald-Eyed Frogs, and principal cause of every recent change on the Fifth Stratum, launched another territorial war against the Parasitic Trees.

His temporary defensive posture had allowed them to reclaim more than half the Marsh Zone. Their population could not increase so quickly, however. The larger territory only spread them thin.

Evan had spent the interval hunting, gathering mana, and producing more than a hundred new Puffcaps.

It was time to counterattack.

More than two hundred Puffcaps advanced. The outermost Parasitic Trees vanished almost on contact, and Evan’s line soon returned to the site of the previous battle.

The enemy’s two greatest weapons appeared again.

Two filthy Water Elementals rose from the swamp. Evan assigned forty Puffcaps to continuous bombardment and suppressed them temporarily.

The Blade Storm host spun toward the army. If it reached the formation, Evan would suffer devastating losses.

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He would not fall into the same trap twice.

The Puffcaps turned, compressed their bodies against the ground, and sprang outward.

[Launch LV4]

Evan silently thanked the frogs for contributing a movement skill. The Puffcaps scattered in every direction. Only the nearest was caught in midair and cut apart by Blade Storm.

Prepared detonation Puffcaps rolled from the formation and exploded around the Parasitic Tree one after another.

Its spinning roots stopped every unit before it reached the trunk. Even so, twenty Detonations reduced the tree to its last HP.

The damage would not have killed an LV45 warrior, but the Parasitic Tree itself was only LV24. It could not survive the chain of explosions.

Only the Summoner remained.

Puffcaps flowed around the suppressed Water Elementals and attacked the trees behind them. The moment one unremarkable Parasitic Tree was blasted in half, both summons collapsed into swamp water and disappeared.

With the two greatest threats destroyed, the rest was tedious cleanup.

Unusual skills still inflicted occasional losses, but the outcome could no longer change.

Parasitic Trees terrified low-level adventurers. Against Evan, they posed little threat.

Human adventurers met their endless numbers with isolated parties. Evan waged war with a unified Puffcap army that obeyed perfectly and did not fear sacrifice.

The trees possessed many tricks, but unless one produced strength far beyond the stratum, tricks were all they were.

Evan left only a fraction of his attention on the battle and began planning the new Mycelial Garden.

Unlike his enclosed home in the Deep Strata, the Marsh Zone occupied the center of the Fifth Stratum. Adventurers avoided it only because of the difficult terrain and the Parasitic Trees.

Once the trees disappeared, travelers might begin using the marsh as a shortcut. Evan did not want his home becoming an adventurer highway.

Whether through force or communication, he needed to make them continue taking the long way around.

The Marsh Zone would only be the garden’s core. Evan ultimately intended to incorporate the entire Fifth Stratum.

Poisonmist Lake could become a breeding area, though he had not decided what to raise there.

The western caverns already formed a mine. Adventurers currently operated it, making that region the greatest concentration of humans on the stratum and the one place Evan had avoided hunting.

The mine produced the dungeon’s signature purple Mana Crystals. Their average quality was far below those in the Deep Strata. Evan had inspected them secretly, and even C-grade crystals were rare.

Still, the mine was in his backyard. Sooner or later, it ought to belong to the mushrooms.

Occupying it by force would be simple, but Evan did not want to display open hostility toward humans.

This had nothing to do with identifying as human. It was practical. When one lacked strength, appearing friendly was wise.

Evan might dominate this stratum and kill ordinary adventurers with ease, but he remained far weaker than humanity as a whole.

Future contact was unavoidable. He wanted it to begin well. A negotiated agreement, or even an unspoken set of rules, would be valuable.

Common Tongue LV1 was the central problem. Evan could not communicate directly.

He could hardly slaughter adventurers until Common Tongue reached LV10, then announce, “Now let us live together in peace.”

This problem demanded careful thought.

As for the Gnolls in the forest, Evan happened to possess Parasitic Fusion and had not yet explored its full potential.

They would make suitable test subjects.

This time, he would build a better Mycelial Garden.

* * *

Storm clouds churned overhead. Heavy rain turned the road to mud, and every strike of a horse’s hoof threw filth into the air.

In such weather, a horse could slip at any moment.

The rider never slowed. He held the reins in one hand and protected a bundle against his chest with the other.

Wind tore away his hood, revealing Dylan’s face, half of it covered in spreading hyphae.