Chapter 261: Ancestral Spirit? Big Mushroom

"Cough, cough! What do you think you're doing? How dare you defy our Scarlet Clan! You shall surely be slain by the Ancestral Spirit! You will become the very nourishment for his growth!"

Wang Yu snapped the old man’s limbs, bound him tightly with shackles forged by the Rock Commander, and crouched beside him, observing the old man’s body through the perfect fractals in his ocular sockets.

"You are so thoroughly rotted, yet you still move. Is it because the Ancestral Spirit of your Scarlet Clan placed some curse upon you that caused such a mutation?"

Within Wang Yu’s field of vision, the spell projected a wealth of information, including the structural integrity of the old man’s decaying flesh and whether it could still support movement, as well as data on the paralyzing toxic mist Wang Yu had used on him—which, despite having no effect, still lingered on the surface of the old man’s body.

The toxins remained unconsumed, indicating they hadn't even found a target to attack; the old man’s nervous and muscular systems were long since unlike those of a normal human.

"This is the blessing bestowed upon us by our Ancestral Spirit, you wretched outsider! I will never permit you to insult our great, fatherly Ancestral Spirit! You shall become the lowliest fodder for the Great One."

Facing Wang Yu’s inquiry—which he hadn't expected an answer to anyway—the old man responded with fury, showing extreme indignation that Wang Yu would label the "Scarlet Rot" upon him a mutation.

Wang Yu rubbed his chin. Was this guy’s brain malfunctioning? He was still bickering at a time like this, failing to grasp the situation; the man’s life was now worth only the effort of a single squeeze.

No, perhaps his brain really was broken. After all, with his entire body in a state of rot and rupture, whether his brain had escaped similar corrosion was a subject open to debate.

"Take me to see your Ancestral Spirit. I want to become its nourishment."

Wang Yu spoke these words abruptly to the old man; he wanted to see if this fellow was truly as dim-witted as he seemed.

"Good! I shall take you to return to the embrace of the Great Ancestral Spirit. Over there—that is where the settlement of our Scarlet Clan lies."

The masked old man’s straightforward reply confirmed the fact that his mind was indeed broken. He turned the only head not dismantled by Wang Yu to point out the direction.

"Is this guy faking it to lead me into a trap, or is his brain truly rotted away..."

Wang Yu frowned slightly; the opponent’s overly decisive behavior did not make him feel any more relaxed or cautious.

Gently pinching the inscribed magic crystal in his pocket, Wang Yu decided to take a look anyway. He and Avia had already prepared a contingency: a high-priority fixed-point Phase Gate array that would drag them to the outskirts of the Sorensen Mountains the moment they needed it.

"Move."

Wang Yu hoisted the old man up and, following his directions, headed toward the settlement. Avia remained hidden by her invisibility skin spell, following behind Wang Yu alongside the elven ranger, Sif.

"This guy is indeed immune to the paralyzing mist that targets muscles and nerves. And since his body is already in such tatters, his vital points aren't really vital anymore. In a sense, this could be considered a blessing, though it is a rather disgusting and wretched one."

Wang Yu looked at the silent old man. Even with his limbs broken, the man showed not a hint of pain. Combined with the ineffectiveness of the toxic mist, Wang Yu felt there was something truly unique about his physiology.

After a moment’s thought, while carrying the old man toward the Scarlet Clan’s settlement, Wang Yu broke off a piece of the Shattered Meteorite Blade, held it in his hand, and sliced across the old man’s back.

"Sshhh..."

The razor-sharp blade cut through fragile skin and putrid, withered flesh, easily parting the old man’s body to reveal what lay beneath.

Throughout this process, the old man merely muttered to himself, not even realizing that the one carrying him had laid his back open.

As the outer layers of skin and flesh were parted, what appeared before Wang Yu were yellowed bones and deeper layers of muscle and viscera. On the surface of these tissues, which looked significantly better than the outer rot, Wang Yu found something peculiar.

Strands of white silk clung and spread across these tissues, twitching and trembling. Though each strand was fine, their sheer number, twisted and knotted together, made them appear surprisingly tough and resilient.

These white threads permeated almost the entirety of the old man’s body; it seemed as if space had been deliberately left between the layers of flesh for these white filaments to spread.

"So these things replaced his nervous system or something? That’s why he can move despite his body being so decayed, and why he’s unaffected by the paralyzing mist?"

Wang Yu muttered to himself, looking at the fluffy, flourishing white silk revealed after cutting open the old man’s back.

"Hm?"

The feedback from the magic lens formed by the perfect fractal spell on his right eye made Wang Yu pause. The composition of these filaments had been broken down.

"Fiber, and living matter... and other components. This thing... is it mycelium?"

Analyzing the data displayed by the lens, Wang Yu used his basic knowledge of Earth biology to identify the white silk clusters: they were mycelium, and they contained a significant amount of mana. In short, magical mycelium.

The rot on the old man’s body was likely caused by these mycelia growing within him, and his ability to move was due to these magical filaments pulling him along.

Judging by his physical characteristics, the man was human, but with these mycelia covering his entire body, Wang Yu felt he was more of a "mushroom man."

"What exactly is that Ancestral Spirit? Could it be a giant mushroom? How else would it make these mushroom-men acknowledge it as their ancestor?"

Wang Yu was perplexed. What kind of Ancestral Spirit could bestow a blessing that turned its worshippers into mushroom-men...

"Wang Yu, the forest ahead is not right. The vitality is still abundant, but the aura of plants is relatively sparse."

Sif’s voice reached Wang Yu, warning him of the anomaly ahead.

Looking into the distance, Wang Yu’s keen eyesight captured the irregularities obscured by the woods. On the ground of the distant forest, the surface was covered in white filaments that looked just like the ones inside the old man—mycelium.

"Mycelial mats, too? I haven't seen anything related to corruption in these Sorensen Mountains, so why are there such strange life forms?"

Wang Yu slowed his pace slightly, the carpet of mycelium covering the forest floor making him alert.

"Hurry! Didn't you say you wanted to become the Ancestral Spirit’s nourishment? Why stop here? Go in, quickly! Ahead lies the settlement of our Scarlet Clan."

The old man urged Wang Yu to continue as he stopped, clearly impatient to offer Wang Yu as food to the Ancestral Spirit.

Wang Yu ignored the man’s babbling and, after a moment’s thought, continued forward. With the added weight on his back, Avia crawled onto him while remaining invisible, avoiding contact with the mycelium on the ground. Sif, meanwhile, moved by leaping through the trees, avoiding the mycelial carpet entirely.

"Plop..."

His footsteps landed on the mycelial mat; the sensation was soft, and the flourishing filaments covering the forest floor were quite thick.

Weeds and other plants that should have been growing well had been displaced, their space and nutrients usurped by the white filaments, leaving them vanished.

The roots of the trees were also covered in fungi, their mycelia piercing the bark to continuously drain nutrients from within.

This caused the forest, despite having many tall trees, to look sickly overall, lacking the lush vitality of the outer woods.

"A tree farm?"

The thought crossed Wang Yu’s mind. These fungi were like ranchers, keeping these trees, letting them grow and draw nutrients from the earth, only for the fungi to feed upon the trees themselves.

To this mycelial mat, the forest was a farm, and the trees were the crops.

The mycelium did not react when Wang Yu stepped onto it; it did not coil up to attack him or attempt to turn him into nourishment, perhaps because of the chattering old man he held in his hand.

"Great Ancestral Spirit, I have returned with your fodder! He shall become the nourishment for you to expand your existence and continue gathering kin amidst the famine!"

The old man kept chanting about their Ancestral Spirit, showing an obsessive fixation on feeding Wang Yu to it, practically begging Wang Yu to rush into the forest.

"Wang Yu, this territory is being covered by the mental energy of some entity. It’s not very powerful, but it covers a vast area. This entire forest is within it."

The girl’s warning echoed in Wang Yu’s ear. Compared to him, Avia’s perception of mana and mental energy was far superior.

"Mental energy?"

Wang Yu unleashed his Chariot Force. As he walked across the fuzzy mycelial carpet, pondering the girl’s words, he extended his perception to remain vigilant of all existence around him.

"Something is there."

His footsteps faltered slightly. His Chariot Force sensed presences. Ahead, figures appeared in the forest, their bodies like the old man’s—riddled with gaping wounds, rotting and putrid, the bright red flesh looking gruesome and broken.

"Brethren of the Scarlet Clan, I have brought back the fodder for the Great Ancestral Spirit."

The clearly deranged old man began shouting before Wang Yu could fully see the state of those figures, announcing the "identity" of Wang Yu, who held him—limbs severed and unable to move—as the figures fully revealed themselves before Wang Yu.

They were truly "mushroom men," masked like the old man, their bodies a patchwork of orc, human, and, more frequently, dark elf.

Without exception, their frames were riddled with gaping wounds, and from these ruptured, decaying fissures, white mycelium sprouted, clustering into fungal caps of every conceivable shape.

These caps gave them an appearance distinct from the old man; indeed, these "brethren of the Scarlet Clan," as the elder called them, looked far more like mushrooms than he did.

"..."

Faced with the elder’s words, these creatures offered no reaction, merely watching Wang Yu and the babbling old man from behind their masks as they ventured deeper into the Scarlet Clan’s settlement, toward the resting place of their ancestral spirit.

"These things are already dead. That outer layer is nothing but a shell; the mycelium inside is the true master."

When Wang Yu’s Chariot Force permeated their bodies and directly sensed the mycelium within, he understood the situation.

Like his Ripple, the Chariot Force could not pass through or command a living body; that it could traverse these masked figures meant they were utterly deceased, mere puppets for the fungal network.

"No wonder that old fool is half-witted; he’s likely been eroded by these fungi through and through. The final stage is total replacement, leaving behind nothing but a corpse-shell."

As Wang Yu pressed on, more of these mask-wearing "mushroom men"—their bodies rotted and claimed by fungus—stood scattered among the forest trees, watching him pass.

"A hive mind, Wang Yu. Their movements are too synchronized. Their consciousnesses must be singular, or rather, there is only one: the Ancestral Spirit they speak of. The psychic energy blanketing this forest belongs to it."

Avia’s warning echoed once more, relaying her analysis.

The members of the Scarlet Clan, now fully transformed, moved with the precision of a copy-paste command; even the speed at which they turned their heads was identical. It was a single will operating a multitude of bodies.

"A demonic fungus that has developed consciousness through a vast mycelial network? How marvelous. No wonder their Ancestral Spirit could track us; this entire forest is saturated with its awareness."

Wang Yu grasped the situation quickly, understanding the nature of the entity.

Continuing forward, an object concealed by trees of varying heights and girths revealed itself to him.

A gargantuan mushroom, over ten meters tall and more than three meters in radius, stood in the heart of the forest. Clouds of dust—its spores—fell from it, and its red-and-white mottled surface radiated a palpable sense of danger.

"Great Ancestral Spirit, receive your sustenance! Grant me the honor of offering this feast!"

The moment the elder saw the giant mushroom, he began to shriek in a fanatical frenzy, clearly believing that feeding the spirit was the ultimate glory.

"Well, look at that. Their Ancestral Spirit really is a giant mushroom."

Wang Yu remarked with a sigh. He had joked about it earlier, but seeing it in the flesh was another matter.

Most ancestral spirits were beasts or ancient, long-lived flora; a fungal hybrid like this was a first for Wang Yu, Avia, and Sif.

"There is a psychic presence attempting to communicate with you—it is this giant mushroom. I am using the Perfect Fractal spell to project its intent into your field of vision."

Ignoring the elder’s screeching, Wang Yu tossed him aside onto the white, carpeted ground and nodded, listening intently to the girl’s voice in his ear.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t receive telepathic messages without his key, but rather... he couldn’t hear them clearly.

He could catch fragments, but unless the Lady of the Night shouted, it was like listening to the hum of a mosquito.

"Powerful life-form, join my Scarlet Clan."

Through the Perfect Fractal spell, the Ancestral Spirit’s words manifested as text before Wang Yu’s eyes.

"Why should I join your clan? I see no reason to do so."

Wang Yu spoke his reply aloud.

"It is the only way to survive the Famine; it is why the others joined."

The entity seemed to hear him directly, its response appearing as text once more.

"Famine? What is that?"

Wang Yu seized upon the keyword, his intuition whispering that it was linked to the corruption.

"Join our clan, and you shall survive the Famine."

"Tell me what the Famine is."

"Become one of us, and you will survive the Famine."

"This thing may have intelligence, but it’s a moron. Explaining 'Famine' is clearly too hard for this mushroom; it’s already stuck in a loop."

Wang Yu raised an eyebrow, silently mocking the mushroom’s intellect.

"How does one become a member of your clan?"

Wang Yu changed his approach.

"Consume this."

The giant mushroom writhed, and an object the size of a palm fell, landing at Wang Yu’s feet. It was a spherical orb riddled with so many tiny, dense holes that it would trigger a phobia in anyone; mycelium pulsed in and out of the apertures.

"Is this a spore? If I eat it, will I die like the others and become a corpse for you to pilot?"

Wang Yu didn’t touch the suspicious "giant spore," but asked again.

"They merely chose, of their own volition, to become one with me."

The Ancestral Spirit’s reply was swift. Its stunted intellect clearly saw no issue with its claim; it truly believed it.

"Good grief. You sound like that creature, Elfin, the Source of Life. If it calls itself a god of life, what should you be called? The God of Mushrooms?"

Wang Yu muttered to himself.

"It is not death, but unity."

As expected, the entity could not comprehend his words and began to repeat itself.

"I refuse. I will not join your clan."

Wang Yu rejected the giant mushroom’s demand point-blank.

"You have no right to refuse."

The mushroom answered instantly. Though the text lacked tone, Wang Yu could sense the surge of fury behind it.

The giant mushroom began to sway, releasing a massive cloud of spores into the air toward Wang Yu, while the soft fungal carpet beneath his feet turned lethal, its filaments curling and crawling toward his limbs.

In the distance, the mushroom men, fully claimed by the mycelium, began to charge with jerky, unnatural movements, while the elder shrieked in excitement at his master’s wrath.

"Bang!"

The sound of flames igniting echoed through the clearing. Wang Yu’s expression remained indifferent as his right palm erupted with a searing, ghostly green fire—the Flame of the Cursed.

Above his shoulder, a blazing orb of concentrated fire manifested—a spell crafted by Avia, the Flare of Radiance.

Wang Yu knew a simple truth: things with too much fur are weak to fire, and things that are too big are weak to the gate.