Chapter 159: The Land of Fungi

"Seventeen trees total, not one of them normal."

The wedge-shaped wood chips lay scattered around the firepit, sourced from different locations and tree species, varying in size, yet uniformly marked by identical internal-external discoloration. Kraft kicked them one by one into the bonfire; the unseasoned wood crackled as it burned, then rapidly blackened, the spongy, discolored patches shrinking and curling unnaturally, releasing vapor with the scent of Jiaohu, mingling with the swelling clouds of smoke.

Those with strong imaginations, upon seeing the diseased wood, looked up in unison—yet the unusually abundant sunlight here induced a chill not on the skin, but within the mind.

The sparse canopy above allowed extra light to reach the ground, yet this light did not stimulate the growth of low vegetation. Instead, shrubs and weeds were especially scarce; even the surviving ones drooped listlessly, creating a peculiar sense of flat, open expanse.

Martin drew his sword and slashed at a cluster of fungi sprouting beside the tree roots, severing both cap and wood—but then realized the delicate growths were not rooted on the hard surface, but embedded deep within the hollowed-out root, fine filaments woven with wood fibers pointing downward.

"Dig down," he ordered the squire holding the shovel.

The iron shovel pierced the soil, upturning the invisible root system beneath. Without washing, the mottled surface revealed a web-like adhesion clinging tightly; the once-resilient branches snapped easily, like improperly dried, moldy radishes, exhibiting a nauseating, decayed softness.

The excavated clumps of earth felt rich and fertile, saturated with unimaginable humus nutrients, as if the forest's essence had reversed its flow and poured back into the earth.

As digging continued, beyond these blatantly unnatural forms, the silent onlookers increasingly sensed the absence of something subtle yet vital.

The insects, normally active everywhere on and beneath the surface, did not stir at the humans' disturbance—as if they had collectively migrated away from this land, or... like the hollowed-out parts of the trees, had merged into the soil itself?

【Fungal Forest】

Kraft recalled Martin's description: fungi everywhere, growing visibly in every corner. They had already been walking through the body of the fungus, unaware—for it had spread invisibly, insidiously, from the unseen depths beneath their feet to the canopy over twenty meters above.

"What's going on here?" Knight Barro observed Kraft and Martin, sensing some unspoken understanding between the professor and his colleague that had guided the party here. "Some kind of tree disease?"

"Roughly speaking, yes." Kraft took the shovel from the squire, drove it into the pit, severed a root, and crushed it effortlessly beneath his boot.

The fungal mycelium's infiltration and integration within the roots far exceeded that within the trunk; infection spread upward, forming a parasitic yet symbiotic relationship with the trees, transforming these towering plants into nodes along a mycelial network, feeding the vast whole with nutrients during their decay and fueling its expansion.

From the first moment he sensed something amiss, to the campsite, they had walked for at least half a day across the fungus's body without realizing it.

"But... this shouldn't have anything to do with us, right?" the digging squire whispered. It was unpleasant enough to be in a forest ravaged by disease—and soon he realized something even more unsettling: "I just wonder if it'll affect the wheat harvest."

As vassals of minor nobility and knightly trainees, the squires had not yet lost sensitivity to the land. Anyone who'd seen plant blight would remember the hunger it foretold—if this subterranean anomaly spread, it would be a disaster more brutal than war in any lord's domain.

If this zone expanded, it would inevitably reach Hadsen Town—or perhaps it already had. They'd heard complaints more than once about dwindling yields from the woods.

"That's not our concern. Mention it to the Interior Officer on the way back. Even if the wheat harvest shrinks, the Duke won't cut your rations." Seeing the mood turn strange again, Barro cut the squire off, forcibly steering the conversation back to the mission. "We're here to find heretics. Maybe those godless bastards are hiding here, provoking the Father's wrath." He planted his hands on his hips, glared around, then turned and kicked dirt back into the pit, stomping it flat. "Everyone back to camp. Get ready for the night."

His blunt tone had a calming effect—perhaps due to his lingering authority over the guard unit—and the camp quickly resumed its rhythm. Barro stood where he was, waited for the group to disperse, then called out to Martin.

"We agreed we were here to find heretics, right?"

"Correct. That particularly active sect from earlier." Martin affirmed without hesitation. "You saw it—they dare reach into churches. What will they do if we let them continue?"

"That's strange." Barro fixed his gaze on Martin, then on the professor, who seemed ready to speak too—as if trying to drill a hole through Martin's breastplate. "My instinct, and what I know of you, tells me this is connected to our mission—but you're holding something back."

He pointed at the refilled pit and stamped twice on the loose soil. "I don't think you're lying—but it's not what I thought."

From an angle Martin couldn't see, Kraft nodded slightly in quiet agreement. Saying half, hiding half—ensuring smooth progress—was exactly how he remembered Martin.

"You're misjudging me," Martin said seriously. "I told you before we left: these are no ordinary heretics. They wield cruel sorcery. If you're afraid, don't come near."

"So what part of this 'cruel sorcery' is real?" Barro looked surprised, then his face twisted. "So these..."

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"Yes," Kraft answered for Martin, his tone grave. He hadn't anticipated this scene, and couldn't fathom how it had come to be.

"But don't overestimate them. The fact they're still hiding in this forest says plenty. And if you're afraid and want to turn back now, it's still possible."

"You insult the most vital quality of a knight." Turning back was unthinkable. Barro believed no problem in the Vestermin region was beyond this party's capability. "For caution's sake—I recall we brought oil, right?"

"That much won't burn this forest—it's soaked through like a drowned sponge." Nor could it kill the mycelium buried deep underground. "We need to find the source."

It must lie deeper within this fungal forest, waiting for Kraft to uncover it—and to answer a new question emerging from each new discovery.

【What does it need so much nourishment for?】

What does it need so much nourishment for?