Chapter 112: Mushroom People and Skin |
A few kilometers away from Grind Sail Town, the retreating barbarians had already fled to this location.
"Stop!"
The priest, blood still trickling from the corner of his mouth and speech a bit slurred, raised his hand to halt the group. Straightening up, he looked around to get his bearings.
"That way, by that tree—go!"
The group began to move again.
Suddenly, a sharp cry rang out from above.
A giant bird dove from the sky.
A massive black shadow quickly engulfed all the barbarians.
A blonde woman in full armor leapt from the back of the bird, landing directly on the ground.
Neither the barbarian priest nor the common barbarians dared to resist under the pressure of a Second Rank Wizard—they all fell to the ground, heads buried in their arms, trembling.
Not one dared lift their head.
Kira swung her sword in a wide arc. In an instant, the blade expanded to several times its original length.
One sweep, and blood sprayed everywhere.
With a single strike, she severed every barbarian at the waist. None survived.
Her golden eyes scanned the human heads hanging from the barbarians’ belts.
"Running off with food all of a sudden? So the border-clearing operation really has been leaked," she said with a cold snort, though her face showed no anger.
"Good thing I set out half a month early. I want to see just how many people have gotten wind of this."
Kira made a hand signal. As the giant bird swooped again, she jumped back onto its back.
The two quickly disappeared into the sky.
At that moment, Saul, just returning to the carriage, seemed to hear something. He looked up at the sky.
But he saw nothing—the thick branches and heavy clouds blocked his view.
"Milord." The loyal coachman, who had been waiting patiently, stepped forward to salute.
"To Borderfall City," Saul ordered as he climbed into the carriage.
The coachman asked no questions, simply jumped onto the driver's seat, tugged at the reins, and they were off.
Inside the carriage, Saul began reviewing the gains and losses from this operation.
Shelly’s death and the disaster at Grind Sail Town would have to be reported to Mentor Rum. For the sake of accurate information delivery, he would need to report it personally.
Saul felt there was more to the appearance of those barbarians.
Especially the part about them trading with border wizards in exchange for living space—it just didn’t sound like something barbarians would do.
And the item they were trading for was Grinding Sound Fruits?
Then they suddenly launched an attack, flipping the negotiation table unilaterally.
Something about this didn’t sit right with Saul.
Maybe Senior Byron and Nick would have deeper insights into it.
The carriage raced on, and after two days Saul reached the outskirts of Borderfall City.
He even arrived a day ahead of schedule.
But the coachman didn’t take him into the city. Instead, he turned onto another narrow path that led uphill through a forest.
The path wound upward until it reached halfway up the mountain, where a tall, slender black castle stood.
Black Castle—the pre arranged meeting place for this journey.
As they entered the forest, Saul noticed a sign posted by the roadside. It was written in Common, Northern Tongue, and Noahic: “Black Castle Forest—No Entry for Ordinary People.”
The atmosphere changed completely once the carriage passed that sign.
The path through the woods was narrow, just wide enough for the carriage to squeeze through.
Saul peered out the window at the gnarled, eerie trees outside. Oddly enough, he felt a strange sense of familiarity.
Then the carriage came to a sudden stop.
"What is it?" Saul opened the door and found the coachman pale-faced and bowing his head low.
No reply.
Saul looked outside—and then he saw them.
Along the forest path ahead, where the sunlight couldn’t pierce through the dense foliage, people squatted on the roadside, hugging their knees with their heads buried in their chests.
They were all completely naked, their heads tucked in tight against their stomachs.
And most bizarre of all—each of them had a huge mushroom cap growing from the top of their head.
With the wind, white spores drifted gently from beneath the mushroom caps, scattering into the shadowy underbrush.
Saul quickly covered his mouth and nose, his eyes wary of those drifting spores.
He began visualizing the "Human-Monster Movement Diagram"—but nothing changed. The forest was still dark, and the mushroom people still crouched silently on both sides of the road.
"Not spirits…? Wait!" Saul immediately cut off the visualization, eyes narrowing at the white spores floating in the air.
He began meditating again—and as he slipped into a half-submerged state, he saw… nothing. Not a single spore.
He had never encountered this before—being unable to see something visible to the naked eye while in a meditative state. What in the world were those spores?
“Forget it. Whatever they are, they’re definitely not safe. Nothing wizards make ever is.” Still on alert, Saul patted the coachman on the shoulder. “Let’s slow the carriage down and go through carefully. Don’t touch the mushroom people.”
But the coachman didn’t respond.
Saul patted again—twice—then realized something was wrong.
He turned his head.
The person holding the reins on the driver’s seat… was a mushroom person.
It was crouched over, staring in terror at the reins in its hands.
“What the hell—!” Saul shouted, kicking the mushroom person off the carriage in one swift motion.
He grabbed the reins and took control. A quick glance around showed no sign of the real coachman.
Saul snapped the reins lightly, urging the horse into a cautious trot while holding his breath and staying alert.
Suddenly, he spotted a mushroom person by the roadside—it looked exactly like the coachman.
Grabbing the edge of the carriage, Saul leaned far to the side. Just as they passed the mushroom man, he snatched him up and threw him onto the driver’s bench.
The coachman was unconscious, his eyes tightly shut.
Saul checked—he was still breathing. Although a large mushroom had grown from his head, his clothes were still intact.
Saul had no way of removing the mushroom for now, so he continued on with the man.
Was Senior Byron somewhere in this place?
If this was a Wizard Tower outpost or allied territory, then why had they attacked his coachman?
Well, Wizard Towers did have a reputation for turning on their own.
Saul stayed on high alert. The transparent borers began wriggling once again across his hands.
The carriage climbed higher, and the dark silhouette of Black Castle gradually came into view.
But then Saul was forced to stop again.
The mushroom people were gone from the roadside, replaced by sparse, stunted trees. Twisted branches stretched over the road.
And dangling from one of those branches—right across the road—was a figure.
Its whole body was limp, its skin sagging like loose fabric.
It was an entire human skin.
Saul pushed the mushroomed coachman into the carriage and kept his eyes on the skin.
After a moment, seeing no other threat, he urged the carriage forward again.
The horses, trained for the Wizard Tower, were surprisingly unfazed. In this creepy, haunted atmosphere, they only seemed a little jittery.
Saul patted one on the rear, trying to calm it down.
But he himself wasn’t calm—his eyes stayed locked on the human skin.
They approached. Drew closer. Passed each other—
And just as they were about to brush by, the skin inflated, swelling from head to toe like a balloon.
It puffed up into the shape of a person, then with a soft thump, dropped from the branch and landed on its feet.
It took a step forward—toward Saul.
“Arrow Spell!”
Saul raised a hand. A glowing arrow formed in his palm and shot out with a sharp whoosh.
A balloon, huh? Let’s deflate you a bit.
But just as it was about to hit, the human skin tilted its head and dodged easily.
Its face fully inflated now, the features snapping into place. It looked at Saul with a confused expression.
“Huh?”
Saul: “…Senior Byron?!”
(End of Chapter)
Comments 2