Mounted atop a towering crossbred warhorse, Alaric gazed at the Demonkind positions stretching across the land ahead. Clad in heavy armor, he frowned in confusion.

Duke Severin Voss had willingly surrendered the defensive advantage and area buffs of the Crimson Spire, choosing instead to deploy his entire army and meet Alaric in a fair battle on open ground?

Alaric’s original plan had been to use the extreme range of the War Chariots to harass the enemy until Duke Severin Voss was forced to come out and fight. Yet the harassment had barely begun, and the duke had already abandoned his defenses.

Alaric did not deny that Duke Severin Voss’s army was stronger overall than his own, but the difference was hardly overwhelming.

In a direct engagement, Alaric’s chances of victory were still quite good.

Duke Severin Voss could not possibly be unaware of that.

Had someone else taken command? Or was there some trap Alaric had failed to see?

He considered every possibility in light of the intelligence available to him, then turned his gaze toward Eleanor’s army.

If this was a trap, the surprise attack would most likely come from Eleanor’s forces, despite her inept command.

Even now, she remained motionless in the distance, watching the battle with cold detachment.

Alaric had assumed the two commanders had allowed a personal grudge to spill onto the battlefield. Now, however, he wondered if the whole thing had been staged for his benefit.

“Pass the order!” Alaric commanded the messenger beside him. “Triple the scouts watching Eleanor’s forces. I want every move they make monitored. Report any change immediately. Until I give the command, all frontline units are to hold formation and refrain from advancing!”

Meanwhile, at the front of the Demonkind army, elite warriors had already formed up for the attack. Several ferocious monsters stood bound at the forefront of the formation, their restless growls mingling with the clatter of armor and weapons. Bloodlust hung thick in the air.

Most striking of all was the dark crimson-armored force stationed at the rear. They were the strongest core unit under Duke Severin Voss’s command: the Crimson Knights.

Every member was at least a Gold-rank half-Vampire, and among them were more than a few true Vampires who bore titles of their own.

Everything was ready. The attack was poised to begin.

Yet the deputy commander looked around anxiously and saw no sign of the supreme commander who should have been standing before the army, rallying its morale and issuing orders.

“Where is His Grace? Has anyone seen Duke Severin?” His voice rose as he questioned the nearby officers and personal guards, a trace of panic creeping into it.

How could their commander be absent at a moment like this?

Just then, a bat came fluttering from the direction of the Crimson Spire and hovered before the deputy commander.

“Duke Severin’s orders. You are to assume full command of this battle.”

“Me?!” The deputy commander’s pupils contracted. He pointed at himself, scarcely believing what he had heard. “Where is His Grace?”

…

Meanwhile, the missing Duke Severin Voss was in the Crimson Spire’s kitchen.

A coarse chunk of meat from some unidentifiable creature had been carelessly roasted over a fire and sprinkled with a pinch of salt. Full of anticipation, he took a bite.

“Pah!”

An overwhelming wave of physical revulsion made him spit it out almost instantly.

The taste was not indescribably awful. Rather, this Vampire body fundamentally rejected ordinary food. It was as though the body could not digest the meat and simply rejected it.

“Come to think of it, Vampires only drink blood…” Evan suddenly remembered that Piglet, too, lived on blood.

Blood was hardly difficult to find in the stronghold of the Vampires. He located a vessel used to store it and cautiously took a sip.

He smacked his lips, carefully considering the flavor. It was his first taste of blood through a Vampire’s senses.

It felt… like drinking a slightly viscous sauce with an overpowering reek of iron.

“Ugh…” Evan sighed, bitterly disappointed.

So much for using this Vampire body to sample the world’s delicacies.

Life as a Vampire did not seem nearly as enjoyable as he had imagined.

“What exactly are you trying to do?” Duke Severin Voss’s voice echoed from deep within his mind once more, his fury tightly restrained.

“What am I trying to do? Eat something delicious, obviously!” Evan replied as if the answer could not be clearer, his voice laden with regret.

That was plainly not what Duke Severin Voss had meant. Suspicion weighed heavily on his voice, accompanied by a trace of bewilderment he could not quite conceal. “Were you not sent by Alaric?”

This creature had been drawn here by the Otherdream connected to Alaric’s daughter, and now, at this critical moment, Alaric had coincidentally launched an all-out attack.

Piecing everything together, Duke Severin Voss had become nearly certain that the strange entity occupying his body was a trap arranged by Alaric.

Its purpose was to lure his army out to its death before delivering him to Alaric as a trophy.

If so, his only remaining option was to destroy them both.

Yet as he watched the intruder sigh mournfully over the food, his certainty began to waver.

Evan ignored him and rummaged around until he found several lumps of sugar, which he promptly stuffed into his mouth.

He had certainly issued those orders without any serious thought, but handing Duke Severin Voss himself over to the enemy was out of the question.

Sweet!

At least the body did not reject sweetness.

He tucked the entire sugar jar into his arms and wandered back to the exterior observation platform.

By then, the battlefield below was in complete turmoil.

During the opening stages of the battle, both sides had shown considerable restraint, relying mainly on ranged attacks and probing assaults by small squads.

On the human side, Alaric remained wary of the potentially lethal trap awaiting him.

On the Demonkind side, the deputy commander had been given command without warning or preparation. Terrified of taking any risks, he could only adopt the most conservative defensive strategy possible.

As the fighting continued, however, Alaric’s keen instincts began to detect something amiss.

Could it be that Duke Severin Voss was not personally commanding the battle?

He would never be absent from an engagement this decisive.

Unless…

A bold possibility, one Alaric had never considered before, flashed through his mind.

Had something happened to Duke Severin Voss himself?

Was his condition so dire that… someone else was commanding the Demonkind army in his place?

Alaric’s breathing grew heavy, and his heart began to pound.

An opportunity!

Whoever stood in command on the other side, several rounds of probing attacks had already given Alaric a rough measure of their ability.

They were no hopeless novice like Eleanor, but neither were they anything more than an ordinary, unremarkable commander.

Alaric hesitated no longer. Under his deliberate direction and mounting pressure, the human coalition’s offensive abruptly turned vicious. The acting deputy commander scrambled from crisis to crisis until he was forced to commit his trump card, the Crimson Knights, in a desperate attempt to stabilize the collapsing right flank.

“Now! Hemlock Knights, charge with me!” The opportunity Alaric had been waiting for had finally arrived.

With a thunderous roar, he personally led the elite Hemlock Knights in a brutal charge against the Crimson Knights.

…

Elara’s father was a beast.

Leaning over the edge of the observation platform, Evan watched the battle below with open admiration.

Under Duke Alaric’s command, the Hemlock Knights attacked with unmatched ferocity. After only a few minutes of fighting, the formidable Crimson Knights had been driven back again and again, unmistakably forced onto the defensive.

Inside his mind, Duke Severin Voss watched the elite force he had painstakingly built being crushed. His entire legacy was being squandered before his eyes, and he had grown frantic enough to threaten mutual destruction once more.

“All right, all right, I get it. What are you so worked up about?” Evan grumbled. He tipped the rest of the sugar into his mouth and chewed it carelessly, savoring the cheap sweetness as it dissolved. Only then did he reluctantly return control of the body.

“Try not to get yourself killed, Sevvy!” Evan added thoughtfully as the transfer took place.

“Pah!”

The first thing Duke Severin Voss did upon regaining control was violently spit out the foul mixture of cheap sugar in his mouth. With nowhere else to vent the towering fury that had built inside him, he drove his fist into the solid stone wall beside him, blasting a web-shaped crater into its surface.

There was no time to dwell on the bizarre ordeal or the damned intruder. He could not even spare a moment to straighten his appearance.

Scarlet light blazed in Duke Severin Voss’s eyes as black mist churned around him. His body transformed into a bat, and he shot toward the clash between the Hemlock Knights and Crimson Knights at astonishing speed.

“Your Grace!” The deputy commander, who had barely managed to hold the line and had nearly been killed in the process, looked ready to burst into tears.

“Finally decided to show yourself, bloodsucking rat?”

The two archenemies met head-on, and their fury erupted in an instant. Alaric’s greatsword crashed against Duke Severin Voss’s blood-forged claws.

Evan ran a quick simulation in his head.

If he had still been in control, Duke Severin Voss’s hand would probably have gone flying.

“Uncle Edmund, is there… something wrong with my body?” Elara had just emerged from the examination chamber filled with precision magical instruments. She blinked her clear eyes and looked up at Steward Edmund, a faint trace of tension hidden beneath her composure.

“Not at all, my lady.” Edmund wore his customary gentle smile and bowed slightly. “You are perfectly healthy. Every result is as good as it could possibly be.”

After seeing Elara safely on her way, Edmund watched her slender figure disappear at the end of the corridor and quietly exhaled.

It seemed he truly had worried over nothing. This was not the worst-case scenario he had feared.

Now he had to devote his full attention to rooting out the traitor within their ranks.

Elara maintained her graceful, dignified bearing as she walked unhurriedly back to her room. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, however, her carefully maintained composure collapsed.

She practically threw herself toward the bed, swept the silent and faithful knight Puffcap into a tight embrace, then curled up in the darkest corner of the room and buried her face deep in its cap.

After learning that she was going to be examined, Boss had severed her connection to the Mycelial Network!

There had been no need! She could have controlled herself perfectly. No one would ever have noticed anything unusual!

Without the ever-present warmth and reassurance of the Mycelial Network, Elara felt as though she had once again been cast alone into that cold, dark, silent abyss.

There was only her, with no one else able to sense that she existed.

Fortunately, the bond she had formed with the knight Puffcap through the special item remained intact. She could still feel that faint connection, and it had become her only comfort.

She desperately wanted to cast Polymorph on herself at once, become a Puffcap, and return to the warmth of the network and Boss’s watchful presence.

But it was still daytime. Uncle Edmund or one of the maids might come looking for her at any moment, so she had no choice but to suppress the urge and endure in silence.

Time crawled by in torment.

At last, the sky outside the window went completely dark.

As soon as night fell, Elara locked her door and eagerly cast Polymorph on herself, transforming into a Puffcap.

Her soft dress rustled to the floor, and a plump Puffcap with a delicate pink cap wriggled out from beneath it.

The knight Puffcap, which had been waiting silently nearby, stepped forward and gently touched caps with the pink Puffcap.

The moment Elara rejoined the Mycelial Network, her hazy perception became clear and expansive once more.

Countless familiar, comforting presences returned to her senses, lighting the darkness within her like stars.

The pink Puffcap visibly relaxed, its entire body going soft as it sprawled on the floor.

“Boss?” she asked tentatively through the Mycelial Network.

“Hmm? What is it?” The familiar voice answered almost immediately, just as it always had.

“Nothing… It’s nothing…” A hint of lingering hurt and dependence colored the pink Puffcap’s voice. “I just wanted to see if you were there… Boss, I’m not going to have that nightmare again, am I?”

“You probably won’t,” Evan assured her. “Don’t worry. Even if you do, you can call me anytime.”

With Boss’s firm reassurance, the tension Elara had carried all day finally dissolved. She sank into a deep sleep.

That night, she dreamed of something peaceful and sweet.

…

After a full day of fighting, the battle ended with the Demonkind forces suffering a minor setback and retreating within the range of the Crimson Spire’s magical defenses.

After personally exchanging several rounds of blows with Duke Severin Voss, Duke Alaric realized that while his opponent appeared to be in poor condition, he was nowhere near weak enough to defeat outright.

Continuing the assault would yield few additional gains and might only inflict needless casualties on his own forces, so Alaric began considering a withdrawal.

Duke Severin Voss, meanwhile, was beset by threats both within and without. An intruder lodged inside his body could seize control at any moment, and all he wanted was to bring this inexplicable battle to an end as quickly as possible.

Both commanders recognized the other’s desire to withdraw. With tacit understanding, they shifted their troops and gradually disentangled the opposing forces like the strands of a knotted rope, each army pulling back in turn. Thus, the grand battle came to an abrupt and hasty conclusion.

Afterward, Duke Severin Voss unhesitatingly placed all responsibility for the defeat on Eleanor, who had remained idle throughout the entire battle, in order to stabilize morale and control the narrative within his army.

If Eleanor had simply attacked, they could have caught the enemy in a pincer, and everything would have worked out perfectly!

Most of the Demonkind soldiers and junior officers, unaware of what had truly happened, accepted this seemingly reasonable explanation. They came to despise Eleanor’s “betrayal” with bitter fury.

Only the deputy commander remained suspicious. He had personally endured the chaos of command and had also begun to notice something strange about Duke Severin Voss’s behavior.

As one of the duke’s closest and most trusted retainers, he was more perceptive than most. Over the past two days, Duke Severin’s actions had often carried an indefinable air of wrongness.

For example… right now.

Evan lounged inelegantly across a broad chair, stuffing cloyingly sweet lumps of sugar into his mouth with one hand while idly leafing through a thick, black-bound book with the other.

The book had been confiscated from the possessions of Malgas, the dark mage who had died unexpectedly. Its pages contained vast amounts of dangerous and abstruse knowledge concerning Abyssal Magic.

Evan read with obvious enjoyment, as though engrossed in an entertaining adventure story.

It was a pity there was no mycelial mat here. If he could have decomposed the dark mage directly, he might already have been able to experiment with some of those Abyssal spells himself.

It did not take Evan long to devise an alternative.

Because of the treacherous nature of Abyssal Magic, few people practiced it.

In the Kingdom of Concord, it was strictly forbidden as taboo magic, which was why Evan had never had the opportunity to capture a practitioner.

Abyssal Magic users were equally rare among the Demonkind, but at least no law explicitly prohibited their craft.

With a flourish of the duke’s hand, Evan publicly issued a recruitment notice in Duke Severin Voss’s name, inviting practitioners of Abyssal Magic to enter his service. There was no level threshold whatsoever. Even the lowest-ranking Abyssal Magic apprentices were welcome, and generous compensation was promised to all.

First, he would lure them in with excellent terms. Then he would assign them to “official duties in Mushroom Metropolis.”

After that, all he had to do was wait for this special cargo to be delivered to his door.

Would this cause trouble for Duke Severin Voss?

Evan could not have cared less.

Duke Severin Voss would be the one cleaning up the mess in the end.

The same went for the deputy commander standing a short distance away, secretly studying him with a complicated, suspicious gaze.

So what if he was suspicious?

Evan did not care in the slightest.

Running wild in someone else’s estate, leaving whenever he pleased, and forcing the owner to deal with the wreckage afterward… It was wonderfully satisfying.

For now, however, what Evan most wanted was to understand the void leading into the Abyss.

The immense torrent of chaotic information pouring from it did not seem to consist entirely of useless debris. If he sifted through it carefully, he might find something valuable.

For instance, [Justice] appeared to be an acquisition profile for one of the Eight Virtues titles.

Unfortunately, he still had no idea what the “Harvest Phase” and “Justice Value” mentioned within it actually meant.

Any ordinary being exposed to such an overwhelming volume of information, even for an instant, would have its consciousness burst apart.

Evan, however, possessed enough sheer mass to attempt to harness it.

What he needed now was to raise his level, expand his knowledge, and learn how to open that void himself.

Of course, he could not neglect life’s pleasures, either.

This Vampire body might be incapable of tasting ordinary food, but surely there were varieties of “delicious” blood worth sampling.

First, he would ask Piglet for advice.

As evening settled over Mushroom Metropolis, Bianca briskly finished cleaning the kitchen of the Puffcap Hearth with the help of several Puffcaps. Before long, every pot, bowl, and utensil had been scrubbed and returned to its proper place.

As usual, she lined up the Puffcaps that had finished working and directed them into a small shed in the backyard, where a mycelial mat had been laid specifically for them to rest. Only one Puffcap remained, following close behind her wherever she went.

Whenever it ran, a faint sloshing sound came from inside its plump body. It was carrying some of the soup made from Delectable mushrooms that had been left over at the inn that day. Dylan had allowed her to take it home.

“Everything’s clean, Dylan! I’m heading home!” Bianca called cheerfully toward the counter.

“Wait, Bianca. I’ll go with…” Dylan hurriedly straightened from where he had been organizing things beneath the counter, but before he could finish, Bianca had already vanished. All he saw outside the inn’s entrance was half of a round Puffcap and one short fungal leg darting past.

“Honestly… Why are young people always in such a hurry?” Dylan shook his head helplessly.

Yesterday, Boss had granted him a new skill through the Mycelial Network and instructed him to visit Bianca’s home today to “pick up some stock.” He had neglected to explain what sort of stock he meant.

Dylan had intended to wait and accompany Bianca so he would have a natural excuse to visit, but the girl had slipped away too quickly.

Fortunately, he knew where she lived and could go there on his own.

After a moment’s thought, he decided it would be improper to arrive empty-handed. He turned to the shelves and packed a small bag with dried Delectable mushrooms.

As the mushroom fields continued to expand, ordinary Delectable mushrooms had gone from a luxury to a snack that was slightly expensive but still affordable.

With Bianca’s current wages, she should have been able to buy some occasionally. The girl had always been frugal, however, so a bag of dried mushrooms from her employer would make a fitting gift.

Carrying the small present, Dylan set off at an easy pace toward the resettlement district in northwestern Mushroom Metropolis.

…

Elsewhere, Bianca jogged through the bustling streets as lamps gradually began to glow around her.

She deliberately kept her pace in check. If she ran too fast, the Puffcap carrying the soup would not be able to keep up.

She often saw other Puffcap handlers on the streets with one or two Puffcaps following behind them, just as she did.

Once she turned into the resettlement district, however, such sights all but disappeared.

The district had originally been hastily designated by Fael to shelter the massive influx of wartime refugees.

Living there cost almost nothing, but the conditions reflected the price.

Rows of crude, elongated wooden tenements stood packed together. A single cramped room typically housed more than a dozen people, sometimes as many as twenty.

As Mushroom Metropolis gradually stabilized and the worst of its early hardships passed, anyone with a little ability and savings moved elsewhere in search of better accommodations.

The resettlement district had consequently begun an inevitable decline into a slum.

Bianca had found steady work at the Puffcap Hearth quite early, but her mother’s poor health had required constant medicine and care. The expenses had kept her from saving enough to move.

After several months of careful treatment, her mother’s health had improved considerably. Bianca’s wages had also risen since she became a Puffcap handler.

She had received this month’s pay today, and she thought it might finally be time to take her mother away from this place and find them a more comfortable home with better prospects. The thought lent a little more spring to her step.

When Bianca reached home, however, she found several familiar and thoroughly unwelcome figures blocking the flimsy wooden door.

She stopped and tried to turn away, but they had already seen her.

The tall, thin man leading them approached with a false smile plastered across his face.

“Well, if it isn’t Bianca. Good timing. Saves us from having to disturb your mother.” He rubbed his fingers together. “This month’s interest is due, isn’t it?”

“We already paid all the interest you originally demanded!”

“Paid it all?” The lanky man sneered. He pulled a crumpled sheet of parchment with faded writing from inside his clothes and shook it open. “The contract states it plainly: ‘Interest shall be paid weekly until the principal is repaid in full.’ Can’t you read? You put your own mark on this!”

“That isn’t what you told us!” Bianca’s voice trembled with anger. “You said the interest was monthly. You added everything else afterward!”

The neighbors who heard the commotion merely closed their windows or watched from distant shadows. Not one of them dared step forward or say a word.

Everyone knew these men belonged to one of the gangs that had recently emerged in Mushroom Metropolis. They preyed specifically on the poor and on refugees, and anyone who crossed them paid dearly for it.

“Careful what you accuse us of, little girl. It’s written right here, clear as day.” The lanky man stepped closer. “No money? I happen to know some work that could earn you plenty…”

Halfway through, he noticed the hyphal traces on Bianca’s face. After a moment’s hesitation, he abandoned the suggestion of that particular “work” and shoved her hard instead.

“Enough nonsense! Do you have the money or not?”

Bianca staggered backward and fell, knocking over the Puffcap behind her.

The Puffcap’s round body toppled onto its side, spilling warm mushroom soup across the ground with a splash. At the same time, the purse tucked inside Bianca’s clothes fell free. Several silver and copper coins rolled across the ground, glinting faintly in the dim light.

The lanky man’s eyes lit up. He bent down before Bianca could react, snatched up the purse, and weighed it in his hand with a satisfied smile.

“Well, look at that. You had money after all. Why bother hiding it? Fine, this will cover this month’s interest. I suggest you gather the rest soon. We won’t be so pleasant next time!”

“That’s my money! Give it back!” At the sight of the spilled soup and stolen purse, Bianca lunged for it, even trying to sink her teeth into his filthy hand.

“Bianca, don’t!” Her mother rushed outside and seized her daughter tightly from behind, tears thickening her voice. “Don’t do anything rash! Please!”

The lanky man flinched at Bianca’s sudden ferocity, then flushed with humiliation and rage.

“You dare attack me? Seems you need a lesson before you understand how things work around here!”

“So this is the merchandise…”

The unexpected voice drew everyone’s attention.

“D-Dylan?” Bianca stared at Dylan in surprise.

“You ran off too quickly. Here, take this. I meant to give it to you anyway.” Dylan appeared not to notice the hostility in the air. He walked over naturally and placed the bag of dried mushrooms in Bianca’s hands.

“This… This could have waited until tomorrow…” Bianca said, at a loss.

“Don’t worry about it. Perhaps fate arranged for it to be useful at this exact moment. Take it and steady yourself.” Dylan gave her a gentle smile.

The lanky man’s expression darkened when Dylan ignored him completely. He interrupted in a hostile voice, “Hey, old man! Where did you come from? You here to stick your nose into our business?”

“Old man… Tch.” Dylan clicked his tongue. “How much does my young employee owe you? I’ll repay it for her.”

As he spoke, he produced a purse that looked fairly heavy.

The lanky man’s eyes brightened when he realized Dylan had come to pay. He quickly sized up Dylan’s clothes and bearing, then grinned and named an outrageous sum.

“Not much. She still owes us two gold coins!”

“He’s lying!” Bianca protested furiously from behind Dylan.

The lanky man was about to glare at her and threaten her into silence, but Dylan behaved as though he had not heard her objection. He calmly took out a gleaming gold coin and offered it to him.

“Come over here, my friend. We can discuss the details in private.” Dylan placed an arm around the lanky man’s shoulders and guided him several steps away from the others, turning their backs on Bianca and her mother.

The lanky man allowed himself to be led away, the gold coin still in his hand. When he instinctively looked into Dylan’s eyes, he thought he saw the faintest violet gleam pass through his pupils.

Dylan lowered his voice, speaking as though sharing a secret.

“I left in a hurry and didn’t bring enough gold. Here’s what we’ll do. Bring some more of your brothers to this location tonight…” He named a secluded spot near the entrance to the Puffcap Dungeon. “When you get there, you won’t find just one gold coin waiting. There could be ten.”

As he stared into Dylan’s strangely captivating eyes, the lanky man’s thoughts grew muddled. He nodded without thinking.

“Huh? Right… All right! As long as there’s gold. I’ll bring the boys tonight!”

Looking at him, Dylan could not help wondering whether he had appeared equally foolish when Charm had affected him.

…

Bianca watched the lanky man and his followers swagger away with the gold coin. Clutching the bag of dried mushrooms, she asked with mingled gratitude and resentment, “Dylan… Did you really give them the money?”

Dylan could hardly tell her that this would not cost him a single copper coin and would even turn a profit by the end of the night.

He could only smile, pat her head, and offer the most ordinary reassurance he could think of. “Coins can always be earned again. What matters is that you’re safe. Don’t trouble yourself over it.”

“Boss…!”

The injustice and fear Bianca had endured, along with the relief of finally being protected, broke through all at once. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she threw her arms around Dylan’s neck and began sobbing quietly.

For all her earlier defiance, she was still a girl who had not yet come of age. Faced with vicious gang members, her aggression had been nothing more than a desperate attempt to protect herself.

Bianca’s mother stood nearby wiping away tears and thanking Dylan over and over, nearly dropping to her knees.

As for the Puffcap, which had been knocked over and forgotten, it could only struggle slowly upright from the ground covered in sticky mushroom soup before silently returning to its place behind Bianca.

A harsh clamor echoed through a dark cavern in the Deep Strata.

“Help! Somebody help us! Let us go!” Bound so tightly in hyphae that they could barely move, the lanky man and his accomplices huddled together like livestock awaiting slaughter, wailing in terror.

“Go ahead and scream! Scream all you like! You can shout yourselves hoarse, but no one is coming to save you! Hahaha!”

The terrifying, inhuman voice plunged the cavern into a moment of dead silence before provoking even more frantic screams and sobbing.

Piglet folded her arms in distaste and frowned. “They’re so noisy. Boss, do you have to toy with them like this?”

“You’re no fun at all!” Evan complained, though he still granted her request.

Hallucinogenic Spores spread silently through the cavern. The cries rapidly weakened, then soon faded altogether, leaving only heavy breathing and the occasional unconscious murmur.

After a brief period of “processing,” the lanky man emerged freshly prepared, his body radiating a strange allure and carrying the Delectable effect.

Piglet carefully collected a trickle of vivid red liquid and brought it to her lips.

The instant it slid down her throat, her entire body jerked as though struck by a bolt of electricity.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back, seemingly savoring an incomparable delicacy. For a long moment, she remained perfectly still.

Evan hurriedly asked, “Well?”

Piglet slowly opened her eyes. When she looked at the unconscious lanky man again, her expression had completely changed. Her gaze burned with the intensity of someone beholding a priceless treasure without equal in the world.

“Boss,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement, “I’m not exaggerating when I say that if you sent this man to the Veiled Empire, a powerful Vampire Duke might genuinely trade an entire city for him! Though they’d be even more likely to start fighting over who gets him…”

“He’s really worth that much?” Even Evan was astonished.

Piglet nodded emphatically, her voice utterly certain. “Boss, this blood is a unique and unparalleled delicacy!”

It was [Delectable LV8], after all!

Evan considered this and decided her assessment made perfect sense.

He filled several containers enchanted with preservation magic and sent them back through the duke’s spy network, assigning the shipment the highest possible priority.

…

Meanwhile, inside the Crimson Spire, Duke Severin Voss sat with his brow deeply furrowed, studying an ancient tome concerning the nature of souls and the methods by which they could be stripped away.

A small mountain of books on similar subjects had already accumulated across his broad desk.

His newly appointed deputy stood respectfully to one side, reporting the latest progress of the effort to recruit practitioners of Abyssal Magic.

The previous deputy, who had begun to suspect him, had already been reassigned to oversee tedious and unimportant supply shipments in the rear. Duke Severin Voss had called it a promotion, but in practice, it removed the man from anything that mattered.

The new deputy knew nothing of the duke’s “abnormalities.” On the contrary, he considered his access to such important affairs a tremendous sign of trust.

Faced with the repeated abuse of ducal authority by the “tenant” lodged inside his body, and knowing he would ultimately be left to clean up the resulting mess, Duke Severin Voss had chosen to endure it for the moment without interference.

In return, as part of their tacit agreement not to interfere with each other, Evan made no attempt to stop Duke Severin Voss from researching soul lore. This was despite knowing perfectly well that the duke hoped to find a way to eradicate his uninvited guest, or at least drive him out.

Under this strange and fragile balance, the two maintained their relationship as “co-tenants” sharing a single body. They took turns controlling it, each advancing his own plans.

No one cared what fate awaited the low-rank dark mages.

In truth, however, the recruitment campaign was proceeding far more smoothly than expected.

* * *

The Half-Demon Valen pulled his worn mage’s robe tighter around himself. Its edges had long since frayed. Exhaustion and the strained desperation of a final gamble were etched across his gaunt face, yet his sunken eyes gleamed with an unusual light inspired by the recruitment notice he had recently seen.

Duke Severin Voss was openly recruiting dark mages, with no level threshold whatsoever!

The announcement caused an uproar among the low-rank dark mages struggling to survive in the Empire’s darkest corners.

Valen had decided almost immediately that he had to go.

Dark mages were not explicitly outlawed or arrested on sight in the Empire as they were in the human kingdoms, but theirs was hardly a respectable profession.

There was no shortage of glorious tales involving dark mages getting themselves killed while taking half a laboratory or an entire team of companions with them. In the eyes of most people, they were little more than walking, unstable explosive runes.

That was especially true of low-level dark mages.

Those who survived long enough to reach the higher ranks had usually developed relatively reliable casting methods. They were also the ones the Veiled Empire was truly willing to accept and cooperate with.

Valen was clearly not among them.

Only last week, he had spent nearly all his savings purchasing 7 strong slaves from a black-market merchant, then dragged them back to his secret laboratory.

Filled with confidence, he had prepared a ritual he had deciphered from a damaged ancient text, one said to summon and control some form of malevolent entity.

The result had been a complete disaster.

At the final moment, the ritual’s energy went out of control and surged backward. The 7 slaves had exploded before they could even finish screaming.

The stench of blood still lingered in the laboratory. Cleaning up the scraps had nearly made him vomit.

He had not only lost all his experimental materials but also exhausted the money he needed to purchase new “consumable subjects.”

His creditors had already begun knocking on his door. If he could not find more money soon, he knew his fate would not be much better than that of those slaves.

Then, at the height of his despair, he saw the duke’s recruitment order.

Service under a duke!

It meant steady funding, an ample supply of valuable materials, and, most importantly, protection.

As for the danger?

Valen scoffed at the thought. Could it possibly be worse than his present situation?

Dying on one of the duke’s missions might still be preferable to being seized by moneylenders and sold into slavery.

It never even occurred to him that the duke might deliberately deceive him.

Even in the merciless environment of the Veiled Empire, a great lord’s public reputation remained a valuable intangible asset.

Surely a duke of such exalted status would not sacrifice his reputation merely to deceive a handful of insignificant low-rank dark mages who had nothing worth exploiting.

Valen was far more concerned about the competition.

The notice claimed there was no limit on the number of recruits, but anyone could see that a duke would never truly support a vast crowd of failures like him.

In the end, only the best or the luckiest one or two would probably remain.

He looked at the other dark mages who had come to apply with the same desperate hope. Their eyes held the same wariness and calculation as his own.

Whatever happened, this was his final opportunity.

He would seize it.

Because Chief Administrator Fael also served as Branch Guildmaster of the Adventurers’ Guild, the newly built City Hall had been placed diagonally across from the Guild to make it easier for him to move between his two sets of duties. Only a broad street separated the buildings.

With the two institutions so close together, minor complications involving future expansions and similar matters were inevitable.

For the time being, however, the arrangement was undeniably convenient for Fael, and he made full use of it.

In a reception room that was simply but respectably furnished, Fael had just concluded a brief meeting with two officials, one from Sailfin Port and the other from Northweald.

After exchanging the customary pleasantries, Fael handed the detailed negotiations over to his deputy, Mirabelle.

The officials had come to examine Mushroom Metropolis’s existing institutions. They hoped to reproduce its successful systems for managing Puffcap handlers and cultivating mushroom fields in their own cities, though they had deftly avoided discussing costs or compensation during the meeting.

Fael knew perfectly well that the two city lords wanted the entire system for free, but he did not care.

Mushroom Metropolis was growing rapidly. Such minor short-term gains no longer mattered to him.

He had stated only one essential condition: whether in Sailfin Port or Northweald, every rule and regulation adopted by the local branches of the Puffcap Handler Association had to remain consistent with those established by the association’s headquarters in Mushroom Metropolis.

Once both sides agreed, the remaining negotiations and paperwork became Mirabelle’s responsibility.

As the network of mycelial mats spread inexorably toward the surrounding cities, the monopoly enjoyed by Mushroom Metropolis’s mushroom fields clearly could not last forever.

Judging by the response times of the neighboring cities and the rate at which the mycelial mats were expanding, the period of explosive growth created by the mushroom boom would probably last another six months.

If Mushroom Metropolis wanted to retain its lead, it could not place all its hopes in mushroom fields.

In Fael’s view, the next crucial opportunity lay with Puffcap handlers themselves.

Mushroom Metropolis was the city closest to the Puffcap Dungeon. If it used that geographic advantage to further refine the systems for trading, appraising, and selectively breeding Puffcaps, it could become the undisputed hub for Puffcap handlers throughout the region, perhaps even across the entire Kingdom of Concord. Only then could it remain ahead during the next stage of development.

A crucial part of that plan was using the Puffcap Handler Association to secure control over the industry’s standards.

The two neighboring city lords had plainly failed to grasp the importance of that.

Everything was progressing smoothly, with only two matters drawing Fael’s particular attention.

After the better part of the day had passed, Mirabelle finished handling the negotiations and returned to the office. Fael looked up and tapped a report on his desk.

“Mirabelle, why does this recent general report make no mention whatsoever of the new gangs emerging within Mushroom Metropolis?”

Gangs were an almost unavoidable consequence of urban growth. When Mushroom Metropolis had still been a small town, it had been too small to provide fertile ground for them.

Now it was a rapidly growing city with tens of thousands of residents and a highly transient population. The emergence of gangs was all but inevitable.

Experience showed that rooting out gangs one by one consumed vast resources and manpower for little lasting gain.

Destroy one group, and another would soon appear.

In fact, even when left alone, most so-called “gangs” would eventually collapse on their own for one reason or another.

That did not mean Fael should turn a blind eye to them.

Assigning a small number of personnel to monitor their activities and size was a necessary precaution. If any gang showed signs of developing into a major organization, the authorities could intervene and crush it before that happened.

The complete absence of the expected summary on gang activity in a routine report left Fael somewhat displeased. He wondered whether Mirabelle had neglected the matter and failed to treat it with sufficient seriousness.

Faced with the city lord’s doubts, Mirabelle hurriedly explained, “Lord Fael, I did not deliberately overlook the issue or choose to exclude it from the report. The truth is… there is currently nothing worth reporting.”

“What do you mean?” Fael asked.

“At present, there are no gang organizations of any meaningful size within Mushroom Metropolis. All we have are groups calling themselves ‘gangs’ that consist of perhaps three to five members. They’re hardly worth including in a report.” Helplessness crept into Mirabelle’s voice. “We have received information about the existence of several gangs, but whenever we investigate them later, we find that they have already disbanded and vanished. Not one has survived long enough to grow.”

“That is strange.”

Mirabelle nodded firmly.

Fael initially considered telling her to remain vigilant in case a deeply concealed gang was operating in secret. On further thought, however, gangs were not like assassination organizations or spy networks. It was nearly impossible for them to remain completely hidden.

Perhaps gangs were simply developing more slowly in Mushroom Metropolis than anticipated.

In the end, he moved on to the other matter that concerned him.

“What about the newly discovered Petrified Grove to the east? I didn’t see any results from the follow-up investigation in the report.”

The Petrified Grove was an area deep within the uninhabited forest east of Mushroom Metropolis, recently discovered and reported by adventurers.

According to their descriptions, the trees and even parts of the terrain had been petrified by some unknown power.

“The detailed report on the Petrified Grove arrived only recently, so I haven’t had time to incorporate it into the summary you received.” Mirabelle quickly retrieved the document from another stack of papers.

“We have made a preliminary determination regarding the cause. The petrification is produced by a unique local variety of Puffcap. It continuously emits a weak Petrifying Ray that has gradually altered the surrounding environment.”

“However, the petrification also affects the mycelial mat and other Puffcaps. The resulting constant attrition has confined the phenomenon to that region and prevented it from spreading. A Puffcap handler from the Guild has already captured a specimen for study.”

“A petrifying Puffcap…” Fael nodded thoughtfully. Sure enough, nearly every strange new change appearing across this land could ultimately be traced back to Puffcaps. “Send someone to investigate the area thoroughly and determine what environmental conditions gave rise to this prime Puffcap. Also assign personnel to monitor the Petrified Grove regularly. If its boundaries show any sign of expanding, I want it reported immediately.”

…

At the same time, a group of dark mages being transported together departed the territory of the Veiled Empire.

Their mission was to travel deep behind enemy lines and perform a dark ritual within a special region deemed “relatively safe.”

The danger was self-evident. If the humans discovered them in the heart of enemy territory, they would have almost no chance of survival.

For that very reason, many dark mages who had initially applied after being tempted by the generous compensation turned pale and withdrew once they learned the nature and location of the mission.

Yet high rewards would always attract those willing to take risks.

In the end, nearly half of the applicants proved unable to resist what Duke Severin Voss had promised and chose to join the expedition.

Valen was naturally among them.

The takeout Evan had ordered would take some time to arrive because of the distance.

Until then, he had another experiment to conduct.

“So cold! It burns! Aaaagh! Kill me! If you’ve got the nerve, just kill me!”

Agonized screams echoed through the frigid winds of the Far North. Of the two assassins who had once come to kill Elara, the bald human had long since served his purpose. Only now had Evan finally found a use for the other, Vampire Viscount Giles.

His entire body had turned green, and he was bound securely to a tall upright post in the frozen wilderness, where he was “enjoying” the direct rays of the pale midday sun.

Clearly, the modest benefits provided by [Photosynthesis] could not overcome a Vampire’s innate fear of sunlight.

Fortunately, sunlight in this world did