Chapter 539 |
“Big shot, give me a straight answer—what exactly are you trying to do by cultivating a Virtue holder?” puji said while kneading Syrian’s shoulders with its mycelial tentacles, carefully choosing its words. “I don’t mean anything else by it. I’m just worried that if I accidentally do something that… well, affects your plans, it’d be bad. So I wanted to ask first.”
What appeared on Syrian’s face, however, was genuine confusion.
He tilted his head slightly, emerald-green eyes meeting puji’s directly. “What do you mean? Say it more clearly.”
“Huh?”
Lin Jun had originally assumed that Veyra was a Sacrifice holder deliberately cultivated by the Divine Tree. But judging by the reaction in front of him… so that wasn’t the case?
There was nothing to hide. Lin Jun explained how Veyra had obtained [Sacrifice].
“He actually… obtained ‘Sacrifice’…” Syrian repeated softly. A trace of surprise flashed across his face, quickly turning into an understanding tinged with regret. “No… for him, that kind of thing is indeed possible.”
In the end, he let out a light sigh. “Forget it. Perhaps this is simply his fate.”
Lin Jun was completely baffled by Syrian’s reaction. “What’s wrong with getting a title? Isn’t that a good thing?”
“A price? From what I saw, it just looks like memory loss. If it can change fate at a critical moment, that’s a pretty good deal, right?”
“What do you think death is?” Syrian didn’t answer directly, instead tossing out a question.
“Uh… the soul separating from the body?” Lin Jun answered based on his own observations.
“Memory is what truly constitutes the existence of you, me, and him. Lose your memories, and you are no longer you, I am no longer me—we become nothing more than blank soul materials. And someone like Veyra, once he gains power beyond the ordinary, is almost guaranteed to actively involve himself in even greater dangers. How good do you think his ending can be?”
Syrian spoke with the air of someone who had been there before.
“Is that so?” Lin Jun thought of Wrath—being burned completely away, that probably counted as true death.
For ordinary people, though, losing their memories might indeed be no different from dying.
Lin Jun also thought of the Yellow Book. That thing definitely valued souls more than memories.
No matter what, Lin Jun still felt that having the power to choose was better than being helpless when facing problems.
“Speaking of which, big shot,” puji scooted a little closer, its mycelium waving ingratiatingly, “do these capital sins and virtues hide any other secrets?”
Lin Jun was trying to squeeze out more information. After all, aside from [Greed], he also had an unactivated [Wrath].
Syrian patted the dust from his pants and stood up. “Since we already know the location, I won’t delay any longer.”
With that, he went straight to the rift Lin Jun had hidden, took a single step into puji’s dungeon, and headed upward, as if he hadn’t heard Lin Jun’s last question at all.
That riddle-speaking old bastard!
I’ll remember this grudge… huh?
Wait a second—come to think of it, doesn’t Veyra seem to have already… forgotten who this old guy is?
…
At the temporary campsite, the bonfire crackled softly.
“Veyra, you really don’t remember Syrian at all? The elven druid who was traveling with us before!” Phylline asked yet again.
Veyra thought for a moment, then still shook his head.
Fein added more details. “The one even prettier than Sister.”
A perfect crossface hold. Phylline expressionlessly and effortlessly dealt with her talkative sister, then turned her concern back to Veyra.
“Veyra, you haven’t forgotten us, at least, right?”
“Uh… of course I remember.” Veyra answered quickly this time.
“Then do you remember when we were kids, my mom mistook you for a girl and insisted on putting you in my floral dress—”
“Stop! Enough!” Veyra hurriedly raised a hand to stop her, the tips of his ears turning a little red. “What kind of nonsense are you reminiscing about? I remember you two perfectly clearly, but Syrian… who exactly is he?”
They still didn’t know that Veyra had obtained [Sacrifice]. After all, not everyone was like Inanna, with expensive magical equipment at home that could check one’s status at any time.
After repeated discussion led nowhere, they could only temporarily attribute the memory loss to head trauma, planning to seek a professional healer once they returned to the rear base.
Pop!
A faint sound came from nearby. A round mushroom cap squeezed out of an inconspicuous dirt hole.
The moment the sound occurred, Veyra and Phylline became alert, hands already on their weapons.
But when they saw it was a puji, they relaxed again.
As long as they weren’t attacked first, puji were harmless—this was practically common sense among adventurers by now.
At the very least, no one had ever heard of wild puji attacking people for no reason.
On the contrary, stories often circulated about severely wounded, dying adventurers who were sprinkled with spores by a passing puji, turned into puji-mancers, and narrowly escaped death.
Combined with the emergence of the mushroom folk, no one would deliberately make trouble for a puji anymore.
Phylline sighed. “The mycelial mats around here have basically been eaten clean by slimes. I didn’t expect to still see a puji here.”
The puji trotted over on its short legs and, in just a few steps, moved up beside Fein—who had just been ‘physically lulled to sleep’ by her sister—and very naturally leaned over to rub against her.
“Haha, that tickles! What is that?” Fein jolted, sitting upright, and found her vision filled almost entirely by a round, plump mushroom cap.
She subconsciously leaned back, but the puji proactively scooted closer again.
Phylline and Veyra watched with amusement, smiles appearing on their faces.
“It seems to like you quite a bit,” Phylline teased.
“Why? I’m not a puji-mancer!” Fein looked a little flustered.
“Maybe it’s a member of the mushroom folk?” Veyra guessed.
“That’s impossible…”
But the puji’s enthusiasm was hard to fend off.
Helpless, Fein took out a small bottle of basic mana potion from her pouch and carefully poured a few drops onto the puji’s mushroom cap. The puji happily rolled on the spot, looking thoroughly satisfied.
And just like that, this scout puji successfully blended into the team by rolling around and acting cute.
Foolish humans—so easy to deal with!
Of course, this was only a temporary measure. Lin Jun wasn’t going to spend long-term attention on entertaining humans. After a while, he’d just call Number Five over.
As for now—
…
That night, Veyra had a nightmare.
He dreamed of a stranger elf whose face was so beautiful it took his breath away, yet whose heart was as vicious as a venomous snake.
That elf sneered as he personally set fire to the mushrooms stored for winter, the flames lighting up his cruel, delighted profile, while the villagers could only starve in the freezing cold.
He even ran usurious loans, forcing Anton’s family into ruin, tearing them apart.
He even secretly drugged the three of them, trying to… trying to…
Watching the elf’s malicious grin as he slowly approached, Veyra felt he was facing the greatest crisis of his life.
Veyra suddenly bolted upright from his crude bedding, chest heaving violently, his back already soaked through with sweat.
All around was silent, save for Phylline’s and Fein’s steady, even breathing.
The puji that had mixed into the group earlier was also quietly curled up by Fein’s feet.
Veyra covered his face and took several deep breaths before he finally calmed down.
He felt he must really have taken a hit to the head—otherwise, how could he have such a terrifying dream?
Most of the dream’s details had already faded like morning mist, but that face—beautiful to an extreme, and hateful enough to make his teeth itch—was deeply engraved in his mind.
“Just a nightmare… how could there be an elf like that in this world…”
Comments 1