Mushroom Garden**
North Gate, Mycelium Puchi Fortress.
The walls were now mostly closed. Though not yet fitted with various magic arrays, they were already functioning.
“Name, level, tribe, purpose of visit.”
At the gate, surrounded by city-guard Puchis, a half-demon carefully recorded each entrant’s details.
“Uh… Broga, elite warrior of Broken Blade Tribe, here to… attend the Northern Alliance conference.”
“Rama…”
The half-demon gate guard had been lackadaisical, but his eyes lit up at “elite warrior.”
He looked the two demons up and down, confirmed no mycelium on them, handed his work to a subordinate, and approached with utmost enthusiasm.
“First time in the fortress, right?”
Broga and Rama, facing the grinning half-demon, were puzzled but new here and didn’t dare cause trouble. They nodded. “Yes. Anything we should know?”
“You two haven’t linked to the mycelial network yet, have you? Want to try? Super vitality, super regeneration, survive chest wounds, reattach limbs, cross-language telepathy, Puchi command, tons of benefits! All from mycelial symbiosis! How about it?”
After the pitch, the half-demon looked expectantly at the two elite warriors.
Broga and Rama exchanged glances, both confused.
Mycelial symbiosis was known throughout the region; the fortress’s strength was obvious.
But this half-demon guard seemed suspicious no matter how they looked.
“Sorry, we haven’t…”
Seeing Broga about to refuse and noticing his missing leg, the half-demon stepped closer. “Elite warriors who join now get 2,000 contribution points reward and a 3,000-point half-year interest-free loan! Join together and you’ll have just enough for limb regeneration potion points!”
Limb regeneration potion!
Broga was tempted.
But in the end, he politely declined, planning to ask around first.
Watching them leave, the half-demon made one last effort. “If you change your minds, come find me!”
Only when they vanished into the crowd did he slump back down. “Sigh, another failure. That 500-point referral bonus isn’t easy money… Symbiosis is so good; why hesitate?”
Clearly the half-demon hadn’t realized he himself was the suspicious one.
After entering the city, Broga and Rama walked along and couldn’t quite believe their eyes; they were seeing “vitality” in the north.
The fortress roads were wide yet never empty.
Fortress residents hurried back and forth with masses of Puchis. Everyone seemed busy; a scene rarely seen in tribes.
It really felt like a proper city, though much of the bustle was filled by countless Puchis…
Eventually they entered a tall tower in the city center. The five tribes’ chiefs and surviving elite warriors had mostly gathered here for the so-called “First Northern Alliance Conference.”
As for leaving their tribes defenseless? No worry. The fortress had kindly taken over defense and even provided free food during their manpower shortage.
As Spark, wearing the marshal Puchi, and Norris, holding the yellow-skinned book, entered, the conference officially began.
Louisa should have attended too but wasn’t interested in trivialities and skipped.
Norris opened the yellow-skinned book and read the prepared speech about the past hardships of northern tribes: scarce food, treated by the Empire as trash in peace and cannon fodder in war.
Not to mention the blood-clan prince who, while killing masses of Qisi, casually wiped out two tribes for extra blood, not treating tribesfolk as demons at all!
Finally, Norris declared that northern tribes should unite and help each other for common prosperity.
All for a brighter future.
An invisible mental wave spread from the yellow-skinned book. One chief immediately stood to support the alliance.
The others exchanged looks. None were surprised.
Forcibly taking over their tribes, then calling a “Northern Alliance” conference; the fortress’s ambitions were obvious to anyone with eyes.
They hadn’t resisted much because the power gap was clear, and the fortress seemed to prefer peaceful evolution, and everyone wanted to see the terms offered.
Sure enough, after Norris’s empty words, Spark stepped down and began distributing tangible benefits.
In summary: these elite warriors and chiefs, as voluntary converts, naturally enjoyed high welfare.
The fortress wouldn’t remain the only one. Some tribes would be rebuilt into new cities; key positions would prioritize them.
They were also hinted at access to many goods unseen in the north.
They understood this as the fortress having smuggling channels into the Empire…
All they needed was to pledge loyalty to the “Boss” and follow basic mushroom garden rules.
Acceptable terms; they had little bargaining power anyway.
Only…
“Can you tell us who exactly this ‘Boss’ we’re pledging to is? We don’t seem to have met the one we’re supposed to serve.” An elite warrior voiced everyone’s question.
“You have met him.” Spark knelt on one knee and presented the marshal Puchi that had been sitting blankly on the stage.
The marshal Puchi bounced up and shook its bright red cape.
“Uh… I see. No more questions.”
Everyone nodded and sat down, preparing for the oath.
Not because a Puchi as boss was normal, but many northern tribes had traditions of worshipping totems or “ancestral artifacts. Calling their mascot “Boss” was odd but understandable.
They just privately speculated who the real power was: Xing, Spark, Norris, or the blood-clan army commander Louisa.
The first three were acceptable, but almost everyone hoped it wasn’t Louisa; that would mean everything was just a glove for some imperial duke, which would feel very insecure.
Meanwhile, Louisa was helping Lin Jun soothe the finally awakened Little Black.
(End of Chapter)
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