Let go of that monster girl!

But Lyme was much calmer than he had expected.

She crouched between the copper pots, her body curled up, her small hands gripping the air crank of the flamethrower tightly, her eyes fixed on what lay ahead.

It seems that the intensive training over the past few months has been quite effective, and Moren breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"How much further?" Lem asked in a low voice.

"This time we only went to Flower Town, which is on the edge of the fungal forest, a journey that takes most of the day."

Lem thought for a moment, "Didn't they say it would take four days round trip?"

"The real journey begins when we arrive in Flower Town."

A militia rat carrying a spear overheard this and couldn't help but whisper in response.

“Miss Lyme was out of luck. Two years ago, before it fell into the Dark Zone, Flower Town was a very beautiful place.”

Chapter 13 Once Upon a Time, There Was a Flower Town

Barons are not considered prominent nobles; they are merely at the very bottom of the kingdom's power ladder.

But barons who own mines are a different story.

Once upon a time, Moron was just a spoiled brat from a wealthy family. He practiced swordsmanship and flirted with maids on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and researched inventions and was flirted with by maids on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.

On Sundays, he would leisurely wake up from his ten-square-meter bed, and sit atop his two-hectare castle, wearing a bathrobe and holding a teacup, overlooking the vast territory he would eventually inherit.

Under the bright, warm sunlight, beneath my feet lies the bountiful, low mountain, and beyond that, lush, green berry fields stretch out.

The Cheese River, bathed in warm sunlight, meanders along, with a dozen or so wooden houses and mills scattered on the grassy banks.

The town of Flowers lies quietly upstream on the river, its reddish-brown roofs layered upon each other, and the spire of its clock tower gleaming in the sunlight.

The wheat fields and flowerbeds stretch as far as the eye can see, and the lush green forests blend into a soft green wave that merges with the skyline.

When the wind is just right, the bells of Flower Town ring out on the breeze, and the sweet scent of roses, carried by the warm wind, blows across the berry fields and up to the terrace of the hilltop castle, enough to make all travelers who pass through linger.

In the right season, loggers would head to the lush forests, and the felled trees would drift downstream along the Cheese River, settling on the shallows near the low hills.

Every winter, Flower Town is a well-known warming haven. The hot springs, imbued with the fragrance of young girls, flow into the Cheese River, where steam rises from both banks, bathing everything in the warm winter sunshine.

All of this was so spectacular and delightful.

Molen glanced back in the direction of the low hill.

In this eternal darkness, the lights on the low hills flicker weakly but stubbornly.

He turned to look ahead.

Flower Town is just a few hundred steps away.

There were no flowers, no bells, and no fragrance of roses.

In the darkness, the outline of the building could be barely discerned; the broken roofline resembled a row of rotten teeth.

The window only left a row of dark, hollow eye sockets, and in the flower fields outside the town, only gray and withered stems remained, covered with a layer of dust from two years of decay.

The layout was almost identical to when Moran left two years ago, but everything was shrouded in darkness and dust.

The clock tower that once echoed with melodious chimes is now half-covered in white mycelium, its hands forever frozen on the night of the calamity.

Deep within the shadowy streets, shadowy figures could be seen lurking in the shadows.

The catgirl guards put on the homemade gas masks that they had been hanging around their necks, and the ratgirls picked up their spears and mustered their courage to form a trained formation.

An older militia rat adjusted the nozzle of the train-shooting machine and whispered to Lyme:

"Does Miss Lyme know what happened the year before last?"

Lem shook his head.

“The dark zone used to be very far south of the Dwarf Mountain Territory, but one winter night two years ago, the sky was suddenly filled with fungal dust, a grayish powder that looked like snow.”

"The rats are highly resistant to the virus and will not be infected, but the ground is full of monsters. The sisters who were killed by the monsters will stand up again as soon as their corpses come into contact with the fungal dust."

"It has become something completely different."

"Thanks to the young master and the knight rats, so many people were saved."

"Before that, Dwarf Mountain had more than six thousand rat girls. After that, the young master succeeded to the title, and Dwarf Mountain never had the sun again, nor the knights."

Lem raised his head, peering through the layers of spear shafts, and his gaze fell on the armored figure on the flank of the group.

"Thanks to the Baron's command to move everyone underground, otherwise last year's disaster month and blood rain would have wiped out everyone."

"Thanks to the Baron."

The mouse girls nearby whispered in agreement.

The atmosphere in the group became somber, and several of the younger mice began to unconsciously shrink towards the center of the group.

"Why are you all looking so dejected?"

Molen glanced at the silent team behind him.

"You are all the bravest mouse girls, what are you afraid of?"

He raised the fluorite lantern in his hand.

"Everything lost will be taken back."

Click.

The lampshade popped open, and the fluorite light pierced through the boundless darkness, like a tiny sun blooming in Moren's palm.

A commotion broke out in the darkness.

The screeching sound of dragging, the strong stench of decay.

Then, one figure after another emerged from the depths of the streets of Flower Town.

Staggering, slow, and unsteady.

Fungal corpses, they were once rat girls.

The withered, shrunken body was covered with grayish-white mycelium, which spread outward from every hole and every wound.

His limbs were bent at unnatural angles, his face was covered with grayish-brown mushrooms, and he swayed as he walked, scattering a cloud of mushroom powder.

Some of the fungal corpses still retain a few characteristics from their previous life, making it difficult to discern their original identity.

"Mother."

Someone whispered something.

Moren drew his sword, the point of light standing out starkly in the darkness.

The horde of zombies began to accelerate.

First it staggered, then it jogged, then it sprinted, and a hoarse howl came from its dry throat.

More and more people poured into the streets, pushing and shoving, stumbling and bumping.

Countless fungal corpses swarmed out from all directions of Flower Town, rushing towards that one blinding light in the darkness.

"Wow ah ah ah ah!"

The mouse girls also cried out.

The horde of corpses crashed into the spear formation.

The foremost fungal corpse was instantly pierced; seven or eight spears simultaneously pierced the same body, the bronze spearheads protruding from its back, bringing with them a clump of dried fungal fragments.

The pierced fungal corpse did not fall, but continued to howl hoarsely, its withered arms desperately scratching at the spear shaft, only arm's length away from the face of the front-row rat girl.

The fungal corpses behind crashed into the corpses in front without slowing down, piled up one on top of the other, crushing and accumulating layer upon layer.

Like a flood forcibly contained, pierced, and crushed by a dam.

The still-struggling corpses were forcibly compressed into a terrifying wall of corpses by the spears, with deafening roars and the sound of bones shattering mixed together.

The spear shaft deformed under the enormous impact force.

The rat girls in the front row gripped the spear shafts with both hands, while the rat girls in the back row desperately braced themselves against the backs of those in front, preventing the entire formation from being pushed backward by the impact.

There are absolutely no tricks involved.

The Macedonian battle formation required no spearmen to move an inch.

They are the anvils, while flames and crossbows are the hammers that strike the enemy!

The spear formation in front resembled a wall studded with iron nails. The ratwomen braced their spear shafts against the ground, pinning the fungal corpses directly in front of them to the spot.

The catgirl crossbowmen on both flanks crouched behind the spear formation, the sound of crossbow strings rising and falling.

Each crossbow bolt struck the fungal zombies' joints with deadly accuracy, forcing them to their knees as they charged forward, only to be trampled to pieces by their brethren surging from behind.

The lemming girls guards, armed with small shields and short spears, cut in from both sides of the spear formation. They used their shields to deflect the withered arms of the fungal corpses as they swung their spears, then pierced the torsos with their short spears, tearing the fungal corpses off the spear formation from both sides of the line.

However, the fungal corpse has no vital organs.

The severed torso was still twitching and struggling in place, and the chopped limbs were still wriggling toward fresh flesh.

The fungal powder emanated from every pore of the fungal carcass, spreading into a deadly mist in the air.

"Lem!"

Molen gave the order.

Chapter 14 Rune Sword

"Lem!"

At Morren's command, Lem closed his eyes and cranked the air pump with all his might, and a thick column of fire roared out of the nozzle!

Red and green flames rushed toward the terrifying wall of corpses in front of them. The moment the flames touched the fungal powder, the entire gray-white mist exploded instantly!

boom!!

The dust explosion unleashed a scorching wave of air, instantly incinerating a large number of fungal corpses. The rat girls in the back row struggled to support the front row with their small hands, barely managing to avoid being blown away by the hot air.

"Squeak! Hold on, squeak!"

"I can't hold on any longer!"

Wherever the flames reached, the mycelium burned in the fire, and the wall of corpses turned into a wailing sea of ​​fire, a scene like hell!

"We've held on! We've held on!"

Seeing the remarkable effectiveness of the acid-fire attack, the militia rats in the front row shouted loudly, and the rat girls behind them echoed their cries, greatly boosting their morale.

Morren's gaze swept quickly through the gaps between the flames and the horde of corpses, searching for that familiar figure.

We cannot let our guard down.

The horde of fungal corpses was completely engulfed by the flames, but more fungal corpses in the distance were attracted by the firelight and staggered from all corners of Flower Town, rushing into the sea of ​​fire without slowing down. The rat girls squeaked and used their flaming spears to desperately block the onslaught of the corpses.

When the flames paused, Lyme quickly reached out his little hand and cranked the handle to pump air back into the copper can.

After several waves of attacks, most of the fungal corpses had been completely burned to ashes. The lemmings rushed forward and drove back the remaining burning fungal corpses from both sides, wielding their short spears to deliver the final blows.

Suddenly, the leader of the lemmings felt a cold glint in his eyes.

She instinctively raised her shield and short spear, but the short spear in her hand was instantly severed along with the small iron shield!

An incredibly terrifying slash, with unstoppable sharpness, descended upon the lemming with no way to avoid it!

clang!

Sparks flew as Morren's longsword parried the greatsword at an angle, leaving a huge gash in the blade.

He gritted his teeth, deflected the greatsword, and took two steps back to create distance.

"Back off, everyone stay away!"

Amidst the raging green flames, a rat-girl fungus corpse slowly emerged.

The flames on the surface of the rune plate armor seemed to be driven away, only licking the edges twice before extinguishing themselves. The greatsword in his right hand was tightly bound to his wrist with a cloth strip, emitting a bright runic light. The cloth strip had become one with the dry flesh.

It has no left arm, and the severed area is covered with layers of mushroom caps. It has no tail, and its armor plates are covered with scratches and dents left from its fierce battles.

The deepest wound cut from the left shoulder all the way to the waist, almost slicing the entire suit of armor in two.

His face was completely disfigured; the skin on his face was cracked and had spiderweb-like patterns, with mycelium spreading from his eye sockets and the corners of his mouth.