Chapter 140

Chapter 140: Chapter 140

Caedos watched the Fiends crawl around the forest like vermin, sitting up high on one of the thick branches of the trees, he was perfectly hidden from below while having an eagle eye view of the ground.

The majority of the army were marching for the swamps, it was the furthest distance away which was why it was assigned to the most able bodied men. They would need to keep luring the Fiends while staying out of reach, a difficult task when either side could close the distance in the blink of an eye.

He turned instead in the direction the two hundred thousand had gone in, moving from tree to tree which doubled his speed.

He soon ran ahead of them and waited, right at the edge of where the trees merged into tall bioluminescent mushrooms. The fungi were as tall as the trees, their caps blotting out the sky as well which gave it a gloomy air, even less light spilling through.

The Hellhounds luring this segment of soldiers were dressed in normal clothes, none holding a weapon, most of the women were in this group as well to sell the disguise.

As they approached the divide, they widened the distance so them jumping into the trees right in front of the field of mushrooms would go unnoticed.

Gleaming eyes stared at him from the cover of the trees, the world around them alive and shielding them from sight.

The Fiend soldiers didn’t notice anything amiss, marching right on. The vines still crisscrossed underneath them and the mushrooms were a less sturdy obstacle.

The Captain leading them scoffed as he felled a large mushroom by himself, bioluminescent spores lighting up the dim field even more. "Dogs who don’t know what’s good for them," He said through gritted teeth, warping forward.

They couldn’t run forever and it was distasful chasing them down in this manner. He would even turn a blind eye to any soldier who was a little too heavy handed as they captured the dogs.

If they wanted finesse, they could have hired beasthunters, not fine soldiers such as they.

Caedos watched the army march deeper into the fields, falling back at the sheer amount of spores clouding everything. It worked far better than he expected, the proud, callous race of Demons destroying everything they came across like they always did.

He expected an alarm to be raised but there was nothing off the sort, the fields glowing from the dense cloud of spores.

"Stay here and deal with any stragglers that manages to escape." He said calmly to the Demons hanging from the trees, curious eyes and flicking ears paying attention to him.

"Avoid the spores unless you enjoy howling," He tagged on dryly, leaving them behind.

On the trail of destruction the Fiends left behind, as the glowing dust settled to the ground, small mushrooms popped out instantly, of varying colors and shapes.

The first shout of agony came from miles ahead, by then the new mushrooms growing had almost gotten to full height essentially trapping the Fiends.

The spore fields were mostly safe as long as the mycelium was left untouched. There were wild beasts who had adapted to the terrain, subsisting off the fungus, partial to the damp, heavy air.

Sometimes they were hunted down, Hellhounds careful not to disrupt the surroundings. Even the most fatal of accidents had only been a part of a mushroom breaking or accidentally stumbling over a growing one and damaging it.

It would cause mycelium to grow from any surface that could support life, which grimly included living things. It took a while for the mushrooms to grow on the body, their roots sinking down to bone first before they sprouted.

To creatures like them, a mild accident posed no danger, but it was a painful accident all the same. The mushrooms would need to be broken off, taking with it a chunk of flesh, and the roots needed to be dug out.

But with this much spores, it would be impossible to resolve it, at least not before the roots tangled the insides. Breathing it in was even more dire, it would fill the lungs, suffocating one silently.

They wrapped scarves around their noses, falling back even further as the spores spread and drifted. They couldn’t grow in the woods but the floating spores could still affect them.

The noise was distant but deafening, a soldier surprisingly making their way out of the field. He was covered densely in mushrooms, even his tongue and eyeballs weren’t spared, it was deeply unsettling.

He couldn’t speak, making choking sounds as he frantically ripped bloody mushrooms away from his body, which cause them to break out in more spores, twice the amount growing out of the jagged, bloody flesh.

There soon found out that there was no need to finish off the stragglers, what few that managed to find their way back to the woods from the fields were like ghosts when they did. Covered in mushrooms and unable to breathe or even see.

The vines easily tripped them, coiling around their feet and sending them sprawling into a small cloud of spores of their own doing, the mushrooms on their bodies breaking on impact with the ground.

They had to fall back ever so often but they kept their post, keeping a close eye on anyone who came out of the spore fields.

Two hundred thousand soldiers charged into the fields but only a handful made it out, only to stumble to an excruciating death at the edge of the woods.

As for the disturbed mycelium, they would make their home in their ravagers, quickly absorbing them of nutrients. The few that had manged to stumble out would be eaten by wild beasts, mushrooms and all.

The temperature and humidity of the woods was unsuitable for the mushrooms so outside the spore fields, they wouldn’t grow any larger than the width of a finger, soon dying off, but not before killing off their hosts.

In a week, the spore fields would regain its wet, damp calm, the spores long settled.