Salian woke to the cheerful chirping of birds.
It was his sister’s blue parrot, but he didn’t mind being woken. The sun was already high.
His own tree-house had been half-demolished by rampaging giant trees during the chaos. Having a bed at all was thanks to his sister’s hospitality.
Still…
When he pushed open the door, his sister’s crying instantly filled the room.
“Little Ji! It’s all my fault. I casually handed you to my useless brother and now look what happened to you…”
Airaven hugged the crooked-capped scout Puchi tightly, tears streaming as she kept glancing his way.
Salian himself had no idea what was going on. The Puchi had been perfectly fine before entering his sister’s house; the moment it stepped inside, it turned dumb as a brick.
His sister insisted it was because the cap was crooked. The happiest creature in the room right now was probably the parrot Feifei perched triumphantly on Airaven’s head.
But to be fair, he did bear responsibility.
“Alright, alright,” Salian sighed helplessly. “After I finish today’s business, I’ll take Little Ji to see some druid friends. They should be able to help.”
“That’s more like it…” Only then did Airaven calm down.
After Salian left, Airaven went out to catch fish for her earth bear Douding and shadow-swamp python Paopao. The house was left with only Feifei and the blankly sitting Puchi.
Feifei first flew to the window to confirm Airaven was truly gone.
Then it did a loop around the room, let out a triumphant trill, and dive-bombed the Puchi with its deadly talons!
*Smack!*
Feifei, now flattened on the floor, began questioning its bird life.
…
In the elven royal palace’s council hall, around the long table that had once hosted human delegations, nearly every important figure in the elven race had gathered.
Even an elder who had entered his final years and relinquished all duties had been specially invited back. Only the ranger commander stationed at Scarecrow Abyss was absent.
The two most eye-catching figures were from the ranger forces.
The deputy commander was wrapped like half a mummy. Ilos had not lingered after striking him down; timely treatment from druids and mages in the unit had saved his life.
The other focal point was Eko, even more striking: white mycelium threaded visibly through his flesh, and most absurdly, a perfectly round Puchi sat squarely on his head while he maintained a perfectly calm demeanor.
In truth, Eko’s injuries were far worse than the deputy’s, yet he moved freely now. He vaguely realized the strange mycelium was probably responsible.
“Eko,” the white-haired elder whose lifespan was down to less than ten years spoke first. In this hall, only he had the seniority to be blunt. “Must you attend the meeting with a magical pet on your head?”
The other elves had been studiously avoiding the awkward sight since entering.
“This little guy saved my life. It insists on staying up there. I can’t do anything about it!”
As he spoke, he grabbed the Puchi as if to remove it. The Puchi instantly wrapped tentacles around his head, clearly refusing to let go unless ripped off.
When Eko let go, it returned to clamping his head with its short legs.
Seeing this, no one could say more. They couldn’t exactly ask Eko to tear apart his lifesaver, could they?
Still, the old elf wasn’t entirely reassured. “Eko, are you… really alright like this?”
This time, before Eko could answer, Galadriel spoke for him. “There should be no cause for worry. According to information I’ve received, mycelial symbiosis has been appearing in human cities for some time. It’s a new symbiotic mode evolved by Puchis that greatly enhances the host’s recovery, at the cost of only appearance change and minor mana drain.”
Galadriel didn’t mention that Puchi masters could control Puchis. Eko had no need for a Puchi’s combat power anyway; mentioning it would be pointless.
“Human cities… then why did it appear in the Sacred Tree Dungeon too?”
“Probably slipped through a spatial rift during the earlier unrest in the human Amethyst Dungeon.”
Galadriel hoped the others wouldn’t grow wary of Eko over the symbiosis. Ironically, Eko himself felt some caution was warranted. “To be safe, I’ll mainly handle forest patrol and border duties from now on. I’ll participate less in royal city affairs.”
The elves then discussed many matters: searching for the missing Ilos and the artifact, rebuilding Ysil Doline, new city plans with defenses against future tree rampages, and so on.
When the topic turned to foreign policy, the vast majority believed the elven race’s current state made involvement in continental conflicts unwise.
Only Salian thought differently. The worlds swallowed by mist he had seen in abyssal space had left a deep impression.
He too believed the elves should step outward, just not as radically as his teacher.
But as an outstanding member of the younger generation, though Salian could attend the meeting, he lacked the influence to sway it. His proposals were quickly drowned out.
Still, the elves weren’t about to completely shut the door and ignore everything. They had considered the continent’s situation.
The scale of the elven civil unrest was too large to fully contain news even with sealed borders.
With fewer concerns, the demons would naturally increase pressure on humanity.
Thus, the meeting ultimately decided to open material aid to humans, including food and magical potions, and extend the same support to the dwarves.
With dwarves pressuring the Empire’s borders, humanity should be able to hold.
As for the human Hero, the demons were surely far more anxious than the elves. In this situation, they could only let humans and demons sort it out themselves.
The elves began rebuilding their homeland and gradually grew accustomed to the ubiquitous Puchis. After all, they were scavenging magical beasts; population booms after disasters were normal.
No one saw the round little mushrooms as a threat. Hadn’t former palace guard captain Eko been walking around with one on his head?
Occasionally elves discovered fungal mats decomposing elven corpses, but they were quite accepting.
To them, whether decomposed by trees or fungal mats, it was simply another way of returning to nature.
Still, the entire elven race remained shrouded in faint sorrow. Whenever dismantling severely damaged tree-houses, seeing familiar objects inevitably reminded them of friends lost or missing in the chaos.
Beside the ruins of the potion shop, a female mage quietly wiped tears while clearing debris.
She could never forgive herself. On the day the giant trees went berserk, how had she forgotten to immediately save little Riel, who had almost no self-defense ability?
Little Riel was officially “missing,” but everyone knew she had either been too mangled to identify or dragged away by monsters in the chaos.
“Poor little thing… it’s all my fault I forgot you…”
The mage would never know that, deep in the warm lower levels of the dungeon, the little Riel she missed was currently clinging tightly to Big Mushroom, trembling as she stared at a terrifying lizardman with ten-centimeter claws…
(End of Chapter)
Comments