Chapter 161: Waiting for the North Wind

Chapter 161 – Awaiting the North Wind

【Active Mycelial Carpet Layer

Thickness: 0.1–0.4 m

Composition:

Violet slime‑mold matrix: secretes proteases of pH 2.5–4.0 to digest organic matter, corrosive to skin yet low risk from brief exposure.

Carbon‑fiber‑like hyphal bundles: diameter 0.4 cm, tensile strength exceptionally high, forming a nutrient‑transport network.

Pulse nodes: one to two swellings per 100 m², purportedly coordinating nutrient flow via bio‑electric signals, capable of priority clearance and destruction】

【Vertical Fungal Forest

Umbrella‑shaped fruiting bodies 5–10 m tall, caps 2–5 m in diameter

Umbrella ribs contain protein strands, possibly channeling moss nutrients or pheromones upward (suspected)

Stalks studded with arrays of pores, releasing volatile toxins (hydrogen sulfide, hydrogen cyanide, luminescent cap‑spores, etc.) in day‑night cycles, creating a chemical contamination zone extending beyond a 2‑km radius】

【Mycelial Man

A humanoid monster in symbiosis with fungus

Height: 2.1–2.5 m

Mass: 100–150 kg

Surface temperature: 30.3 °C (core 37 °C)

Biological armor layer:

Supposedly composed of recombinant chitin‑silicate composite, Mohs hardness above 7, capable of stopping small‑caliber bullets

Hexagonal honeycomb‑structured plates

Neural‑fusion fungal clusters (suspected)

Rear skull embedded with a fungal fruiting body (diameter 15 cm), hyphae infiltrating the amygdala and hippocampus, the creature’s command centre

Spore‑lung system:

Left lung lobe specialized into a multi‑chamber spore reservoir (≈1.2 L capacity), possibly resistant to toxic gases】

On the PDA, Chen Jian incrementally updated every scrap of intelligence concerning the tier‑two beast and its surrounding environment.

Zeng Yi and his companions watched from the side; though some elements eluded them, there was no doubt they recognized this as genuine intelligence.

As for the trinkets supplied by the Mechanical Cult and the Sanctum of Holy Blood?

Toxic gases, high‑grade armor, massive size, a 30‑kilometre danger zone…

Purely ambiguous conjecture.

Compared with the depth of Chen Jian’s gathered intel, the disparity was stark.

After digesting the preliminary reports, the Holy‑Blooded cadres formed a rough appraisal of the surrounding monsters.

“—So the peripheral small creatures aren’t truly frightening?”

“They’re numerous, but on paper—and from our previous engagements—they shouldn’t outmatch unarmed bone‑clad corpses, right?”

“Exactly.”

Chen Jian nodded and said:

“Their most vexing trait is their concealment.”

“A fungal sheath cloaks their surface, dropping body temperature dramatically; drone infrared can’t spot them, and their hue melds with the environment, rendering them nearly invisible to the naked eye.”

“If we fail to be the first to detect them, we’ll easily be encircled by swarms.”

“They pose little direct threat, yet if they entangle us while we’re battling the tier‑two monster, our firepower will be fragmented.”

“Then the situation becomes exceedingly troublesome.”

“What should we do? Should we eradicate every one of those minor monsters first?”

Zeng Yi furrowed his brow and asked, a note of worry in his voice.

Chen Jian shook his head and replied:

“As Ji Xing foretold, the optimal move is to drop a nuclear warhead into the centre.”

“Otherwise we must strike fast and retreat, using sufficiently potent weapons to eliminate the tier‑two beast swiftly.”

“Both options suffer from low feasibility.”

“First, getting a nuke near the tier‑two creature is a monumental problem—we lack a delivery system, and”

Chen Jian trailed off, but Zeng Yi, Xie Liu and the others already grasped his meaning.

The “nuclear weapons” the commander had procured were not immediately deployable.

Even if they tried, they couldn’t launch them.

For a moment, the situation stalled.

Or rather, it fell into a paradoxical stalemate.

According to Chen Jian’s speculation, somewhere in the Jinling Ruins or the mountain citadel might lie a method to unlock a nuclear device—but to find that method, one must first detonate a nuclear bomb.

Isn’t that a dead‑end loop?

In theory, a collective mind of that era could not have engineered such a foolish cycle.

Yet they hadn’t anticipated the monsters’ emergence, nor that their safety measures would be compounded by even stronger safeguards.

Chen Jian’s brows knit, then relaxed after a brief contemplation.

Gazing at the grim faces of the Holy‑Blooded before him, he spoke:

“An apparently unsolvable difficulty sometimes stems not from impossibility but from insufficient intelligence.”

“Regardless, we have at least secured a key piece of information.”

“Namely, those ‘mycelial men’ likely navigate by following swellings and the mycelial carpet.”

“If we can continuously raze the swellings and disrupt pheromone transmission, we may advance without drawing their attention.”

“Once we lay eyes on the true form of the tier‑two monster and gather enough data, we will find a way to break the impasse.”

“Understood.”

“Understood.”

The others answered in turn, and Lei Jie seized the moment to add:

“Thus, on our next foray into the Jinling Ruins, we must widen our search radius.”

“We’ll split into at least two squads, probing forward while continuously destroying information nodes to safeguard the teams.”

“That will slow our advance, but the good news is, per Shen Yue’s assessment, these fungi thrive on moisture and heat.”

“And the entire Jinling Ruins have endured over ten days of drought.”

“Fungal activity is plummeting; if we can wait for a cold, dry air mass to pass, the whole ruin will swing its doors open for us.”

“Zhuge Liang borrowed the east wind; we must borrow the north wind, and now we shall see,

whether this northern front will stir up tonight.”

“Tonight?”

Ji Xing looked to the heavens and asked instinctively:

“Will such weather even bring a north wind?”

“Who can say?”

Chen Jian turned his head and addressed He Shuo beside him:

“Help us, quickly examine the omens of the sky.”

He Shuo, speechless, turned back, rolled his eyes and said:

“My hobby is astronomy, not his damned astrology.”

“Besides, in this age, who still trusts reading the heavens to forecast weather?”

“Let the drones expand their range and take a sweep.”

“If a marked drop in temperature is detected, the wind tonight should be near.”

Meanwhile, within Jinling City.

Ten Holy Hall Guard detachments had completed their assembly, and the Pontiff Saint sat beyond the sanctuary, inspecting his uniquely mighty guard.

As the incense‑laden bronze brazier belched indigo plumes, the gear‑crowned dome of the Trinity Sanctuary began to thunder.

Steam‑driven colossal organs roared on either side of the plaza, their pipes trembling, casting the Trinity hymn into every grain of iron‑sand that paved the ground.

From beneath the archbishop’s black robes, a gaunt arm extended, clutching a scripture‑inlaid wheel, blessing the soldiers about to tread the battlefield.

First to pass before the sanctuary was the armored phalanx of the Holy Guard, their breastplates bearing reliefs of the Trinity Saint devouring lightning, their shoulder seams slick with lubricating oil.

The automatic weapons they bore, dubbed “Conquerors,” were in fact simple multi‑barrel volley guns—less potent than some relic‑forged arms, yet the pride of their standard issue.

The ground quivered beneath their regimented stride, and after they passed, a greater tremor arrived with a rolling formation of steam locomotives. Twenty‑four massive steam engines thundered over the sanctuary’s forecourt, forty‑eight exhaust pipes spewing scalding vapor, their whistles wailing in relentless harmony with the organ.

Mounted upon the locomotives were twenty‑four colossal smoothbore cannons; the artillery priests intoned hymns, scattering ethereal sparks from their incense burners.

When the locomotive column reached the very front of the Trinity Sanctuary, the twenty‑four guns detonated in unison.

“Boom!”

The violent blast swept across the whole of Jinling, and amid smoke and flame the defenders of the faith shouted their triumph in unison.

Yet, the centerpiece of this parade was not yet revealed.

The final procession past the Trinity Sanctuary was the sole line‑cannon formation ever christened “Giant Gun.”

A masked artillery priest silently commanded twelve internal‑combustion locomotives to haul the guns forward, black wisps of smoke drifting slowly as the jubilant crowd fell back into solemnity.

After the hush, the Pontiff Saint raised his arm, leading all to chant the name of the Trinity.

The expedition was about to commence.

This force of nearly three thousand souls could be said to gather the very elite of the Mechanical Cult.

The Pontiff even spared no cost, redeploying troops originally stationed in other cities to join this one‑way crusade that many deemed a march to oblivion.

For he had no alternative.

The forces of Huadu had already reached Zhuolu, easily crushing the scant defenders there and pressing onward southward.

Within ten days at most they would reach the Jinling Ruins, extending their malignant claws toward its secrets.

They must be stopped—or at least be overtaken.

It was a simple binary choice; a more cautious mind would wait for the enemy to be battered by the second‑tier beast and then reap the spoils.

Yet, on this wasteland, matters rarely stay that simple.

On one hand, before a second‑tier monster, any notion of “picking up leftovers” is a joke.

On the other, no one knows what truly lies within the ruins guarded by that creature.

Yet all know that what lies inside is extraordinary.

After all, merely by probing the outskirts of the Jinling Ruins, the Mechanical Cult had effortlessly erected a colossal citadel upon the wasteland.

What if, in the true “core,” even more terrifying and extravagant wonders await?

Like those so‑called “Huaxia troops,” rising like a sun.

The Mechanical Cult cannot bear such a gamble.

Thus his only recourse is to outpace Huadu.

Yes, confronting that beast would inevitably cost heavy losses.

Yet should treasure be unearthed, even half—or a third—of the force could stand against Huadu’s two thousand.

It is a choice that seems irrational yet aligns perfectly with the grand scheme.

At this moment, the Holy Guard, having completed its inspection, had returned to camp.

In ten hours they would set out, bound straight for the Jinling Ruins.

The Pontiff, in solemn bearing, returned to his throne, while the high‑ranking archbishop brushed the crowd aside and once again stood alone before the Pontiff.

“The north wind is coming.”

He spoke:

“This time we have poured nearly all our strength.”

“From tonight and for the next few days, that monster will be at its weakest.”

“The Guard’s warriors can easily penetrate the heart of the ruins and track the beast.”

“If we find it, the firepower of twelve giant cannons will bury it forever.”

“All we need is a measure of luck.”

“May the Trinity Saint bestow its blessing upon us.”

The Pontiff nodded slowly, then asked:

“Any other news? You mentioned earlier that gunfire was heard from the Jinling Ruins?”

“What’s the story? Have you clarified it?”

“Not yet.”

The archbishop shook his head and replied:

“The gunshots occurred a few hours ago; we have ordered the Holy Blood Hall to scout the ruins’ perimeter.”

“At present, a scouting party of Holy Blooders has set out; they expect to reach the ruins’ outskirts in a few hours and bring back intelligence.”

“Will they cooperate?”

The Pontiff’s gaze shifted slightly as he asked:

“They have no other choice.”

“Either side with us or side with Huadu— the ‘Holy Father’ of the Blood Hall is no fool; he knows exactly which path to take.”

“That may be considered good news”

The Pope let out a soft sigh, then said:

“At least we can focus on that beast alone, without having to contend with two foes at once.”

“Not necessarily.”

The Archbishop shook his head, fell silent for a moment, then spoke in a low tone:

“The detachment of the Huaxia army is marching toward Jinling.”

“Their objective may also be Jinling.”

“We do not know what they seek, but judging by their past behavior, they will inevitably be curious about that monster.”

“And you know they are backed by the Ring Guild; the Ring Guild has long coveted entry into the Jinling ruins.”

“I fear they may find a way to get ahead of us.”

“Should they steal the treasure of the Jinling ruins, all our efforts would amount to a farce.”

“Impossible.”

The Pope shook his head decisively and said:

“A second‑tier monster is not the same as the third‑ and fourth‑tier beasts they have previously slain; no one can cheat their way past that creature in the Jinling ruins.”

“Their numbers are too few; even overwhelming firepower cannot compensate for the shortage of men.”

“Perhaps they will reach the depths of the ruins, perhaps they will even lay eyes upon that monster.”

“Or even, perhaps, they might escape the monster’s grasp.”

“But to think they could slay that monster, walk away unscathed, and still claim the treasure—that is sheer fantasy.”

“They cannot achieve that.”

“In this world, no one can.”

“…indeed.”

The Archbishop nodded slowly, then said:

“Then let us focus on our own affairs.”

“The Guard Brigade is about to set out; I think you should visit the camp yourself and bestow upon them your final blessing.”

(End of Chapter)