After an accompanying elf quietly poked Galadriel in the waist, she finally came back to herself. She swiftly adjusted her bearing and exchanged a few words with the envoy led by Inanna, touching on their journey and offering courteous greetings. Her words were impeccable, beyond reproach.
Only when she returned to her room high in the royal court, closing the heavy carved wooden door and leaning against it with eyes closed, trying to recall the meeting, did she discover that her impressions of the envoy members were strangely blurred.
Even the strikingly featured pink-haired girl Inanna left little more than that vivid hair color in her mind.
In contrast, the image of the four-sword Puchi—which she had only glanced at initially and which had vanished during her conversation with Inanna—remained unusually clear, carrying a lingering presence she could not shake.
“How peculiar…”
Though Puchi culture had recently become popular in the Elf Forest, Galadriel herself felt no particular attachment to it.
In fact, whenever she saw Eco solemnly wearing a Puchi on his head, she had to exert effort to maintain a dignified expression.
She had never entertained the idea of keeping one herself.
Yet why did she care so much about that particular Puchi?
The one bearing four swords was clearly no ordinary Puchi. It must be a Mushroom Tribe member, like No. 1.
Was it simply curiosity sparked by seeing a sword-armed Mushroom Tribe for the first time?
Galadriel gently shook her head, temporarily filing this inexplicable concern under “curiosity.”
Negotiations with the envoy would not conclude quickly. At least a week of consultation and compromise was needed. Both the kingdom and the Elf Forest had their own demands for future cooperation.
The kingdom especially hoped the elves would dispatch mages skilled in magic arrays and barriers to help construct that vital new defensive line.
The elves’ long lifespans and accumulated arcane knowledge gave them an advantage in building large-scale defenses that humans could hardly match.
The Elf Forest, meanwhile, focused on the Hero. They hoped the kingdom would at least share basic intelligence on the current Hero and allow elves to offer assistance where possible—even joining the Hero’s party.
This would serve two purposes: assessing the new Hero’s character early and building initial trust and bonds.
Such seemingly naive “relationship-building” had, from historical precedent, proven surprisingly reliable.
Heroes summoned from other worlds naturally leaned toward the human camp, but their allegiance was far from solidified at summoning.
Early sincere support often influenced their final alignment, preventing them from becoming a “decisive weapon” for a single faction.
In truth, summoned Heroes were rarely truly evil. Were it not for Link’s actions three hundred years ago, elves and dwarves would not harbor such hostility toward Heroes.
Now unable to stop the new Hero’s rise, the elves naturally wished to revive their original stance—building ties rather than opposition.
The problem was… the kingdom had lost track of the Hero too.
Priest Samuel, accompanying Sophia, communicated only directly with the Archbishop.
The Hero matter was too weighty. Beyond the Archbishop, he trusted no duke.
Duke Brennus’s betrayal had only confirmed this view.
Thus, after learning of the Archbishop’s sacrifice, the Hero party decided internally to separate from kingdom support and continue training independently.
This made supplies harder but avoided potential dangers.
So the kingdom now knew only the Hero party’s rough activity area.
In this situation, even if Sophia were found, kingdom-sent personnel would struggle to join. Elf insertion was even less feasible.
The envoy argued endlessly over this point.
But the specific negotiation tug-of-war had little to do with Inanna or Galadriel. Both sides had dedicated negotiators; no need for their involvement.
In fact, as arguments grew heated in the hall below, the two could sit in the palace courtyard sipping tea, chatting, and teasing Puchis.
Inanna was somewhat surprised how smoothly the elves had accepted Puchis.
Recalling humans’ initial conflicts with Puchis—only achieving coexistence after the Boss’s concessions—the elves’ harmonious acceptance moved her.
Galadriel, however, focused on the Puchi called Fourteen.
For some reason, Fourteen lately preferred solitude, even avoiding Inanna’s hugs.
“Fourteen is amazing with swords,” Inanna said with genuine admiration and pride. “On the way here, it single-handedly cleared a cult lurking near Scarecrow Abyss. Truly remarkable.”
“A Puchi that strong… you make me want to hug it too,” Galadriel said softly, as if in passing.
Inanna’s eyes lit up, as if finding a rare kindred spirit.
“Then let’s go find it!” She took Galadriel’s hand, sharing tips while walking. “Fourteen is just shy. When I first hugged it, it struggled hard. But all Puchis are like that—scratch the right spot, and they become very obedient!”
“Um… except No. 10,” Inanna added with slight regret.
Meanwhile, the Sword Saint Puchi stood quietly at a balcony edge. Its perception extended past palace spires and corridors to the ancient giant tree in the courtyard center.
Elf King Aurel was buried beneath those roots.
Elven sighed inwardly.
By any count, Aurel had been half a mentor to him.
Though nearing twilight years, those “twilight” years might outlast an ordinary human lifetime.
Elven had occasionally wondered who would go first—he or Aurel.
Never imagined that in mere half a year, both would pass. Rounded off, they died together.
Only he had been revived by some unclear—good or evil—existence as a Puchi. And among Mushroom Tribe, none was named “Aurel.”
As he lamented fate’s impermanence, his mushroom body suddenly trembled. Strong unease surged.
The Sword Saint’s intuition sometimes surpassed even [Aura Sense].
The Sword Saint Puchi immediately tried leaving, but eight tentacles suddenly wrapped around it.
“No. 1, No. 4, what are you doing?”
The two Puchis clung tightly.
“We don’t know! The Fungus Lord told us to!”
“Little Fourteen, don’t struggle. The Fungus Lord naturally has deep intent!”
What’s going on?
The Sword Saint Puchi struggled to comprehend, but the ominous premonition grew stronger.
He trusted intuition more.
Just as he prepared to force free, a delighted voice came from nearby—confirming his unease.
“Found you! You three were hiding here playing! Galadriel, come quick—I’ll teach you the best way to hug Puchis!”
When four hands touched his mushroom body, Elven gained sudden insight—without doubt, the Lord of Puchis was evil…
(End of Chapter)
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