Chapter 353: Boundary Between Two Worlds
The creatures the striga had devoured numbered more than a few, so the wights that attacked came in every variety.
Monster corpses screamed as they swarmed, and the place was friendly to darkness creatures, making it all the more threatening.
“Where the hell are these things coming from?”
“Are they being born from the walls?”
Gloomy stems, roots, bizarre mushrooms, and unidentified lumps. The cave interior was covered in all manner of organisms, causing misunderstandings. But the troops’ morale held firm.
“This place is partially connected to the yin dimension. Undead that wouldn’t naturally perish are simply preserved here.”
“The more we put down, the fewer they become. Hold firm!”
The summoners, reliable pillars in any situation, were there. And the mushroom people fighting on the front lines possessed combat power beyond imagination.
Whoom!
Boom!
With each swing of their long arms, terrifying air-splitting sounds accompanied shattering wights. Not a single one withstood a single blow.
“Are those fists really made of stone?”
“Have you touched their hands? They’re really as hard as rock!”
Mushroom people had different mycelium compositions in different body parts. The fists used for combat were essentially gauntlets.
Pure boxers with zero kick ability, but they made fantastic use of their long arms’ reach and bobbing torsos.
Groooo—.
Against the warg wight charging on two legs, a mushroom punch flew.
Though dead, the warg wight retained its original instincts—ducking flat to dodge the stone fist. The mushroom person’s exposed armpit and flank looked appetizing.
“Dangerous…!”
A knight who had already developed camaraderie shouted.
A normal warrior would have been helpless here. But just as the enemy used tricks, the mushroom person wouldn’t passively take it.
Placing its short legs firmly on the ground, it twisted its body 360 degrees and threw another punch. A fluid, continuous motion as if this had been the plan from the start.
The mushroom punch struck the warg’s exposed flank.
Crack!
The warg wight’s left ribs shattered completely, sending it airborne. The mushroom body that had coiled one way now unwound, using the recoil to deliver a follow-up blow.
Pow!
The warg wight, struck in the back by the aerial combo, slammed into the ground. But as a solid-grade undead, this alone couldn’t neutralize it. Trembling, it still tried to scratch its way closer. A shadow fell over its face.
Grau—?
Two stone fists met in a double hammer fist stance, and the mushroom person brought them crashing down.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
They say you can wring water from dried squid? From the thoroughly drained warg remains, drops of what might have been marrow or fluid dripped from the slowly rising fists.
Other mushroom people, sensing the enemies were adapting to simple swing punches, began varying their attacks.
Planting their bodies firmly, they attacked like seesaws, tilting back and forth. No—”swinging” was a more accurate description.
“They throw uppercuts from below like that?”
A Lantzheim soldier wielding a partisan marveled. He’d pocketed sweet prize money from boxing matches held as side events at every major tournament.
He was confident he could beat knights in bare-knuckle boxing, but the techniques the mushroom people displayed transcended common sense.
Pow!
Using arms approximately 1.8 meters long, they scooped upward from below the groin. This was something neither wights nor seasoned warriors could counter.
“They look flustered!”
“Of course! They have no idea where to aim!”
“Everyone fall back! We’ll get caught in the crossfire!”
Knights and veterans alike laughed loudly despite being in battle. They had never seen undead hesitate.
‘Should we rotate soon?’
The overwhelming punch show continued, but Eugene judged the timing for rotation was approaching. Even the incredibly powerful mushroom people had weaknesses according to nature’s laws.
“Our allies are powerful but vulnerable in endurance and mobility. They’ve broken the enemy’s momentum—now it’s our turn.”
As Eugene said, the mushroom people’s punching speed was gradually slowing. Short legs and a low center of gravity gave them excellent balance but terrible mobility.
This was why, despite their immense combat power, they couldn’t fight aggressively. If their stamina drained outside their territory—the village—they couldn’t escape and would be annihilated.
“Homi.”
Wheeeeeeet!
The whistle echoed even more clearly inside the cave.
“Graum!”
“Graum!”
The mushroom people responded immediately. Homi hadn’t learned the complex spore language, but she could infuse will into whistles and roars.
‘Come back.’
Transcending all things, universally understood—those two words. In conveying this, she had already reached master level.
“You’ve worked hard, friends.”
“Leave the rest to us.”
Knights and soldiers stepped forward in rotation. No one high-fived, afraid of breaking their hands.
As the mushroom people passed, the knights and soldiers felt their entire bodies were overheated. Heat radiated between the white fibers. They would need to cool completely before resuming activity.
“Pikemen to the front. Fight exactly as you’ve trained.”
Partisans wielding silver-plated blades bristled forward, forming an impenetrable line of defense. Silver-coated tridents were the ultimate deterrent against tainted beings.
Thrust!
Thrust!
The wights charged suicidal rushes into the dense partisan formation. With ordinary spears, their bodies would have been pierced through, and they’d have reached the spearmen to deliver vicious attacks.
But against slanted partisans, a rib or spine would inevitably catch.
Fwoosh!
When tainted flesh reacted with silver, white-blue flames erupted, beginning purification.
“Bear down and hold!”
“No need to stab. Just aim well—silver will do the rest!”
As the centurions shouted, the first wave of fiercely charging wights crumbled to bare bones, rattling as they collapsed.
“Owlbear?!”
“Big one!”
Occasionally, wights too large to easily stop required four or more partisans to converge. Even then, soldiers were pushed back, forced to smell the foul breath of the dying owlbear.
Fwoosh.
The corpse breath soon carried the acrid smell of internal burning.
“Fire!”
Aimed crossbow bolts tore through the owlbear’s eyes and throat, incinerating it. The massive body’s strength rapidly drained.
‘Regular soldiers generating this much combat power?’
‘Even with unlimited funds for an army…’
The Lantzheim unit’s silver-plated partisans and silver bolts coordinating in anti-undead combat—it was effective and flawless enough to make even knights tremble.
“Knights, stand ready! Striga could attack at any moment! They freely climb walls and ceilings, so maintain immediate response capability!”
Eugene calmed the heated knights and prepared for the real threat.
No matter how powerful the Lantzheim formation, it only held when maintaining solid ranks. Against striga attacking from all directions in three dimensions, only knights could fight properly.
*
Sweeping away the wights, Eugene’s unit pushed deeper into the cave.
“Where are the striga? Why aren’t they coming out yet?”
“They might be outside the cave, sir. They’d want to sink their teeth into fresh forest creatures out there. And they probably didn’t expect us to push this far in.”
Alzhar’s hypothesis was quite plausible.
“I hope so. The knights will complain a bit.”
“As Your Majesty says. Military operations are best when anticlimactic.”
Then a startled scream erupted from ahead.
“Summoners! Summoners!”
“What the hell are those?”
Bizarre creatures they’d never seen before roamed everywhere.
A toad with a human face weighing at least 20 kilograms, or a large oyster mushroom with eyes on its cap—these were relatively normal examples.
“Should we fire?!”
“Are those things dangerous?”
A crossbowman, eyes locked with about twenty eyes on the oyster mushroom, struggled to steady his trembling finger.
“Don’t fire. As I said before, this cave is a den of beings carrying yin energy. Hundreds of aberrant forms roam here, and distinguishing them all is impossible. Don’t attack unless they attack first.”
“Wouldn’t it be cleaner to just sweep them all?”
Eugene didn’t like having unidentified beings at his flanks or rear either.
“No, Your Majesty. It’s like vacuum can’t exist in atmosphere. Kill the visible ones, and new aberrants will quickly fill the void. They might even be more dangerous.”
When Alzhar openly opposed Eugene’s opinion, it meant it truly had to be done.
“If creatures lurking by the water bother you, build a levee first. Is that it? Block the forest entrance, turn it into a closed system, and perform purification—this place will change too.”
“Truly the wisest understanding. I, Alzhar, sincerely…”
He wasn’t incapable of flattery. Alzhar had a separate brain region dedicated solely to flattery, distinct from the one handling combat and counsel.
Ssssss—
An aberrant shaped like a grim but with a torso large as a log passed by.
“Hiiik!”
The crossbowmen reflexively aimed at its repulsive appearance, but the summoners soothed them.
“Calm down. Despite its looks, it only eats corpses. That kind of large scavenger is actually a good sign. Its spiritual mass is so large it leaves no room for other aberrants, and it’s not dangerous.”
“I-is that so, Lord Summoner?”
The soldiers understood only half of the summoner’s words, but everyone had already lowered their crossbows. When a summoner said don’t fire, not firing was always best.
However, occasionally dangerous ones blocked their path.
Shaaaa—.
A carnivorous flower with a bud shaped like a predatory maw, lined with sharp teeth.
“Watcher Plant!”
“They’re different from the ones I saw in Mushroom Village! What the hell grows that much hair and thorns?”
“How many are there? Two, four, six, seven… damn it!”
Everyone watched monsters that had approached to feed on orc corpses being swallowed and digested. Even brave knights knew the danger of Watcher Plants and didn’t approach rashly.
“That grotesque plant has no vital points. Spears, swords, or bolts would take forever to kill it. Getting close is too dangerous too.”
“Then let’s burn it. Fierce as it looks, it’s still a plant—fire should handle it.”
“We haven’t even finished the mission yet, and setting fire in a cave—do you think we’d survive?”
Summoner Ricardo stepped forward before the debating knights. A specialist in handling plant-type aberrants.
Aberrants and undead aside, here was fresh prey for once. The carnivorous flowers, which had been drooling at the sweet scent of meat, froze in place.
“■■■■.”
From Ricardo’s mouth came an uncanny resonance, and the carnivorous flower shook its head left and right.
“■■.”
This time it nodded up and down.
“Is that…?”
“When they agree, they nod up and down. When they refuse, they shake left and right. He’s just concluded negotiations. Now the real bargaining begins.”
Alzhar, who had observed this several times while serving under Gaius, explained.
After approximately three minutes of negotiation, the carnivorous flowers let out pleased cries and rapidly shrank. After about ten more seconds, they were compressed to jar-sized green blobs.
“Your Majesty! I’ve concluded negotiations with them.”
Ricardo returned wearing a proud expression, bearing a self-inscribed oath mark. A pledge to gain the carnivorous flowers’ trust.
“What did you promise?”
“They’re tired of cave life. The passersby they could eat were either tasteless aberrants or horrifyingly tasteless undead.”
Ricardo pointed toward the opposite entrance, their destination.
“In exchange for clearing the path, I promised to transplant them to the forest outside the cave.”
“Can’t we just wipe them out? A mere monster’s oath…”
A knight offered counsel, but Eugene shook his head.
“Doing so would make Summoner Ricardo an oath-breaker, causing him to lose a significant portion of his arcane power.”
“I spoke out of turn!”
Those who dedicated themselves to the arcane treasured their power as their life. Understanding this, the knight hastily bowed.
“Your counsel is always welcome—please feel at ease. Ricardo, the knight didn’t know, so please forgive him generously.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
Ricardo showed no sign of anger, apparently not his first such experience. If anything, he looked touched that Eugene had smoothed things over.
He had only dealt with those ignorant of the arcane until now—having a sovereign he could communicate with like this was a first.
“If released into the forest, would they disrupt the ecosystem?”
“None! They’re essentially half-spiritual beings. After sealing the cave, they’ll simply block foul things from approaching—not disturb nature at all.”
Ricardo had accepted the deal knowing these details.
“They won’t suddenly grow huge and swallow me whole, will they?”
“Shh. Don’t jinx it.”
The medics prepared the transported Watcher Plants with practiced efficiency, despite their misgivings.
*
“Light!”
“The cave entrance!”
Soldiers cheered at the distant light source. Like escaping the grotesque womb of a great beast.
Though incredibly brave, this was a dark space powered by ley lines.
A sandy shore where the mainland of reality and the ocean of the other world intersected. Where things that shouldn’t exist crawled up to lick their wet feet—a lawless domain.
Even seasoned warriors couldn’t grow accustomed to this revolting space.
“Your Majesty, that passage is the only way out.”
“No side paths. Blocking just that will stop striga intrusion and prevent further undead proliferation inside.”
Eugene agreed with the summoners’ advice.
“I’ve also been reading the flow of spiritual energy on the way here. It flows like a single river—no branching elsewhere.”
This special location allowed easy identification of passages without wandering through darkness.
And they had pushed far enough that the striga finally showed themselves.
Including the undead and other obstacles they’d hoped would wear down Eugene’s forces, the striga were also surprised by the flood-like advance.
Women clinging to the cave walls and ceiling, defying gravity, stared at the intruders. Beautiful faces hanging upside down with long hair dangling was grotesque.
“Elves? Why are there elves here?”
“There are humans and gnomes too.”
“Fools. Obviously they’ve taken the forms of people they’ve devoured!”
“…!”
Those seeing striga for the first time were only momentarily stunned—none were swayed by their pitiful appearance.
“Your Majesty. They seem to want to talk.”
“Nothing changes. Prepare.”
Eugene whispered to Alzhar and stepped forward. A striga detached from the ceiling and landed on the ground. Their queen, it seemed.
“We don’t eat much.”
The striga queen spoke with a bewitching smile.
Strong recognized strong. Eugene, the summoners, and knights were threatening enough, but even a single soldier armed with loathsome silver told her everything.
“Just enough to fill our stomachs, that’s sufficient. As you can see…”
She lifted her clean clothing to reveal a slender, pale-white abdomen.
Her body was attractive, and the striga’s bewitching magic was also activated. Some soldiers with lower resistance desperately fought the surging carnal desire.
“A few grapes—what’s the harm in that?”
“True. How much can fit in that pretty belly?”
“Oh! Exactly. So just like this—”
Spit!
In that instant, from Eugene’s empty hand, something was fired. Its speed was so great it looked like lightning.
Pow!
The striga queen screamed. Her delicate face contorted into a hate-filled visage.
“Ow! My beautiful belly!”
Her prized navel was gone, and a Blood-Draining Ritual Dagger embedded to its hilt radiated its presence.
Though he rarely used tricks due to his inhuman strength, Eugene could execute vicious ambushes when needed.
“You filthy human! How dare you! How dare you!”
Striga were beings obsessed with beauty. Rage that transcended the pain of her wound made her eyes blaze.
The queen, who had taken human form, reverted to her true self—a grotesque mixture of bat and demon.
“Kyaaa—!”
“Kiii—!”
Other striga waiting in the forms of humans, elves, and gnomes also dropped their disguises.
“God preserve us.”
“Demons! Demons that have infiltrated the mortal world!”
The knights made the sign of the holy cross and raised their swords. Their appearance was the very stereotype of a devil, and everyone burned with resolve for a fight to the death.
‘A mass-produced Nosferatu?’
Eugene thought this as he drew the Last Autumn.
“I’ll tear you apart—!”
The striga queen glared at Eugene, clutching the Blood-Draining Ritual Dagger in her abdomen.
“I wouldn’t pull that out if I were you. A sincere warning…”
“Silence! Stinking human!”
The enraged striga queen dismissed the enemy’s warning with contempt. Then she yanked out the embedded dagger with all her strength.