Let go of that monster girl!

He tossed the wooden spoon aside, lifted the cardboard mask, and lay on the stool, dry heaving.

"Ugh, it tastes awful."

After all, this is soup made from dried chimera meat.

The Flower Town campsite consisted of only a few rough cloth tents pitched on the leveled gravel ground.

Several wooden poles stood between the tents, with fluorite lanterns hanging from their tops, emitting a pale yellow light.

In the distance, mud-brick rats are building houses with rubble they've dug out of the ruins.

They piled up the stones one by one, applying a layer of thin mud and then adding a layer of broken stones.

Although I worked very hard, the thing I built turned out to be ugly.

The entire ruins of Flower Town were trampled into rubble by the fungal behemoth, and the basements were probably even filled in.

Fortunately, the chimeras would not approach the fungal forest, and the fungal corpses within a radius of several kilometers around Flower Town had long been wiped out in that battle.

So much so that the Flower Town campsite actually felt a little comfortable at this moment.

Several female mice leaned against a pile of stones next to the tent, resting with their eyes closed. They used their helmets as cushions under their bottoms, and their tails swung casually on the ground.

Under the tarpaulin, a group of mouse girls were scooping out pieces of the cooled chimera meat jelly from the large pot.

Pour the mixture into various small jars, bottles, and bowls you've collected, then place a few small pieces of mushroom slices in the middle of each piece of meat jelly, and carefully seal it.

The movements were serious and meticulous.

"The Baron said this way we can screen out the strains we need."

"If I grow them myself, it'll be troublesome if strange mushrooms grow."

Moren watched the busy figures of the mouse girls with satisfaction, still maintaining his bird mummy attire.

There are nearly 20,000 known species of mushrooms in the world, and Molen only knows a small fraction of them.

It is estimated that these 20,000 species may only represent less than five percent of the total number of fungi in mushroom forests.

The entire mushroom forest is a strange whole; it's not just a bunch of decomposers piled together.

Otherwise, they would have withered long ago after depleting the soil's nutrients.

Nutrient mushrooms may be producers of fixed free-floating magic, while parasitic fungi are like white blood cells. The fluorescent blue mushroom with its abundant hyphae and small cap may be the yellow plasma that transfers nutrients.

Countless fungi whose names are difficult to pronounce together form the strange monster that is the Fungal Forest.

After all, no one can capture a giant fungal creature alive and dissect it, and few scholars dare to enter the woodland to study the symbiotic relationships between fungi.

The mystery of the fungal forest remains a mystery to everyone.

But there are too many mysteries surrounding the Dark Zone; this is just one of them.

If anything seems illogical, the glowing sea to the west is truly the most bizarre thing.

More terrifying, bizarre, and powerful fungi reside far, deep in the darkness of the south.

It is said that the giant fungi there can grow to several kilometers or even hundreds of kilometers long, and their names are particularly impressive.

They're all places like "carnivorous wilderness" or "ancient land-dwelling kingdoms," names that make you want to run away just by hearing them.

Fortunately, Morren didn't need to know what each mushroom was used for.

All you need to know is which mushrooms are usable.

Burn all the other mushrooms.

The rat girls wielded their mining hammers and pounded the fungal tree with all their might, causing large clumps of brownish-gray spores to scatter from the canopy under the blows.

The rats dragged cloth bags full of spores around, trying to spread the spores evenly on the fungal carpet in the woodland, sneezing as they did so.

Several sticky, tall fungal trees were marked in advance with red ribbons.

The rat women swung their axes and chopped them down one by one.

When the thick stalk broke, it splashed out a large amount of viscous, fluorescent bacterial liquid, which splattered all over the mouse girl on the ground.

Fungal forests may be flammable, but fungal forests are unlikely to be flammable.

If it could be destroyed with a single fire, Morren would have burned it all down long ago.

Wood is highly flammable, but fumed mats are not as flammable as they appear.

The fungal forest is scattered with fluorescent mushrooms containing viscous fungal liquid, which will explode when heated, forming a large fireproof zone.

Not to mention the steam mushrooms that boil as soon as they are heated, and the completely non-flammable gray mycelial mats.

These wondrous fire-resistant sub-body structures can, of course, be removed one by one.

But the prerequisite is that you have to get past the fungal corpses and fungal beasts first.

Morren passed this test.

Therefore, Morlen can be burned.

The mouse girls checked the cleaned area one last time to make sure that all the fluorescent mushrooms and water vapor mushrooms had been dug up.

Then they stood outside the safety line, each rat holding an acid bottle in its hand.

The bottle was filled with flammable slime provided by Lyme, and the mouth of the bottle was plugged with strips of cloth soaked in chimera oil.

"Throw it!"

The rat girls threw acid fire bottles into the cleared mushroom forest, and red and green flames hissed and shot up.

Then all the mice that had thrown the bottles turned around and ran away.

The flames, now unrestrained, gradually expanded, spreading from a small clump to an entire area.

Red and green flames devoured the dry fungal wood and caps.

Thick, acrid smoke rose into the sky, and the firelight illuminated the surroundings.

Moren picked up an umbrella, opened it, waved, and shouted to the mouse girls:

"Get out of the rain quickly."

The mouse girls looked at the dark sky above them, then at the umbrella in Morren's hand, their faces full of confusion.

The sunless area has no sunlight and it only rains a few times a year.

But since it was the Baron's order, all the rats that were still outdoors ran under the tents to hide.

The fire grew larger and larger, with flames shooting up more than ten meters high and charred smoke columns rising straight into the dark clouds.

pat.

pat.

The rain started to fall.

At first, there were only a few sparse drops, but then they quickly became denser and turned into a heavy rain.

Rain poured down from the dark clouds, hissing and steaming as it hit the fire.

The smaller the fire, the less rainfall.

As the flames receded, the rain lessened.

When only a few scattered embers remained, still smoldering, the rain had dwindled to just a few drops falling intermittently.

The rat girls poked their heads out from under the tent, their eyes wide as they stared at the scorched earth that had just been burning fiercely but was now mostly extinguished.

"Squeak! What's going on?"

Fungal forests, aren't they amazing?

Molen closed his umbrella and shook off the water droplets.

Even magic won't help.

Burn it slowly, can you grow faster than it burns?

Chapter 95 Fungal Insecticides

The wandering merchant, wrapped in a thick fur cloak, rode on the back of a snow ox.

One hand gripped the reins tightly, while the other held aloft a fluorite lantern.

The snow ox pedaled its four thick legs very fast, its hooves thumping loudly on the gravel ground.

The cart trailing behind bounced back and forth on the ground, its cargo boxes clattering against each other.

The fox-girl companion hung on the sideboard of the cart, her whole body bouncing up and down, her buttocks flying half a foot off the board with each bounce.

A dark red spear shot out from the darkness behind them, its tip whistling sharply as it hurtled towards the fox girl's head.

The waiter screamed, released the baffle with his right hand, and grabbed a round wooden pot lid next to him to block the view in front of him.

The spear grazed past the pot lid, its tip embedding itself in the wooden plank next to her shoulder, nearly ripping off her entire arm.

"That was a good catch. I wish the old guy knew that trick."

The wandering merchant didn't even turn his head, whipping the snow ox while shouting at the top of his lungs.

The guy was holding a pot lid on his head as a shield; he was almost crying.

"Boss, let's drop the goods down quickly, those ants are about to catch up!"

In the darkness behind, a dozen ant girls, who looked exactly like young girls, were rapidly closing in.

Its speed was no slower than that of a snow bull, and its eyes were filled with bloodthirsty fervor.

"Say that again and I'll throw you down!"

Before he could finish speaking, the rapidly moving cart suddenly ran over something hard and bounced up violently.

While tumbling in mid-air, the fox-girl saw peanuts, a pot lid, and a wandering merchant spinning in the air with his buttocks facing upwards.

They also saw a neat row of sleepers and mine tracks on the ground.

The entire flatbed truck overturned to the side of the road, and the cargo boxes crashed to the ground.

The snow cow also fell flat on its back, lying on the side of the mine track and mooing.

The man scrambled under the overturned cart, curled up in a ball, trembling, clutching the fox tail to his chest, too afraid to move.

The wandering merchant squatted on the ground, carrying the scattered goods onto the cart without even looking up.

"Boss, let's run! Don't pick it up!"

The footsteps of the ant girls grew closer and closer; the one in front had already raised her spear and was less than fifty meters away from the cart.

The wandering merchant straightened up, turned to face the pursuers, and raised his middle finger.

The light from the fluorite lantern illuminated the wide smile on her face.

"Hey, you stinky ant, we've reached the hill."

Above, the propellers hummed.

The airships approached rapidly from behind the wandering merchants, and a swarm of cloth-covered hydrogen balloons obscured a large portion of the sky above.

Metal canisters fell one after another from the deck of the airship, cracking and popping in mid-air.

Grayish-white spore dust clouds gushed out from each of the shattered jars, spreading outwards and enveloping the entire pursuing force in a dense cloud of dust.

White mycelium emerged from beneath the ant girl's skin.

First, fine, downy mycelium sprouted on my arms, then on my neck and cheeks.

Then the mushrooms rapidly expanded and burst open from the tips of the mycelium, with one fist-sized grayish-white cap after another emerging from the joints and trunk.

Within seconds, the ant girls' bodies were covered in mushrooms, and the spears slipped from their stiff fingers.

The entire body took root in the ground and became a cluster of short fungal stumps.

The wandering merchant coughed and exhaled a small puff of grayish-white spore smoke from his mouth.

She was covered in grayish-white powder, her whole body as white as a dough figurine from head to toe, and she stood there with her middle finger raised.

The fox-girl companion slowly peeked out from under the cart. She was clean, except for a layer of white ash on her buttocks and fox tail.

Two round eyes stared at the white-clad wandering merchant in front of her, as if worried that mushrooms might suddenly sprout from her too.

The wandering merchant lowered his head and glared back.