Mushroom Lord in the Underground City-Chapter 297 - 289: Everything Goes Smoothly

Deep in the half-demon camp, Bastardos irritably scratched at the scattered scales on his body with his fingernails.

These dull, unevenly distributed scales were evidence of his mixed ancestry, offering only negligible defense—a fairly common occurrence among half-demons.

For several consecutive days, the scouts sent to the Demon Tribe had disappeared without a trace, turning his initial excitement into worry.

Just then, a tribesman stumbled into his tent made of animal hides, bringing new, grim news:

"Chief, several tribesmen went missing by the Gong River. They were likely attacked while fetching water; the warriors only found bloodstains but no bodies. The signs are few, not like the nearby Demons."

Gong River, the seasonal river south of the tribe, is it possible they were attacked there?

Bastardos’s nerves instantly tightened; he thought first of the Demon Race—could it be their infiltration unit?

However, he quickly dismissed this assumption himself.

It would be pointless risk just to kill a few ordinary tribesmen for the sake of creating some panic.

"An unknown demon..."

The unknown ahead, combined with the danger behind, led Bastardos to decide to leave more manpower at the rear.

This would ensure the safety of the rear and provide strategic flexibility if an attack on the Demon Tribe didn’t go well.

However, when the size of the fully-prepared troop was below expectation, Empire Envoy Pine immediately noticed.

The demon Pine gravely inquired about the reason. Bastardos hastily explained his concerns and the attack at the rear, trying to emphasize the necessity of splitting the forces.

"Fool!" Pine’s rebuke was like an ice cone, stabbing with unconcealed contempt, "A few lowly losers go missing, and you become timid? They might as well have been fed to some ignorant beast! What’s the use of leaving these people? Did you think the fertile lands promised by the Empire are just for you to pick up while lying down?!"

He took a step closer, "Show me all your strength and set out immediately! If you delay again, you won’t get anything!"

As a Palace-Level figure, Pine’s humiliation was unabashed. This stemmed from his absolute confidence in his own demon power, deep-seated disdain for half-demon bloodlines, and further, the backing of the Empire behind him.

In fact, even Bastardos himself didn’t find the other’s condescending attitude strange.

"Yes... Sir. The entire army will depart immediately!" Facing the undeniable order of the Empire Envoy, Bastardos ultimately chose to compromise, leaving only a few warriors to handle the wild Demons.

...

Under the envoy’s urging, the Lizardmen and half-demons set out.

Fifteen hundred half-demons and over nine hundred Lizardmen, totaling twenty-four hundred, claiming to be...

No title claimed, for the envoy sent to the Demon Tribe never returned.

They didn’t meet up but instead headed directly to the Demon Tribe from their respective camps.

The two tribes weren’t "brotherly nations," and the subordinates were tribal warriors, not soldiers. Personal combat skills were sufficient, but discipline was far less than a true army.

If they came together, dealing with the frictions below would be troublesome. It was better to march separately.

After all, the Demon Tribe only had three hundred people; either side would win in a confrontation.

In terms of supplies, besides food, the most they brought was wood for making fires and keeping warm.

In their frozen tundra habitat, wood wasn’t abundant, but if they spent time searching, it was enough.

However, entering the ice field area inhabited by the Demon Tribe was different; it wasn’t that trees couldn’t be found at all, but gathering enough wood to warm two thousand people wasn’t practical, so they had to bring wood as part of their supplies.

On the third day of marching, they entered the Fungal Mat area.

However, the majority didn’t notice the mycelium that was the same color as snow, and those who did notice paid no mind.

The journey was smooth, with no obstacles.

Within the tribe, there were those skilled in reconnaissance, but they didn’t find any enemies, as there were none—Lin Jun didn’t even send Invisible Puki to harass them.

With their thick animal skin coats and night-long burning campfires, the half-demons and Lizardmen pressed closely to the former Demon Tribe village, just a day’s journey away.

The smooth journey gave Bastardos a sense of unreality.

After all, not a single scout had returned before, and he was prepared for a perilous journey.

The demons, even with insufficient manpower, should have set traps along the way to hinder their progress; such ease made him uneasy.

"Chief, the Demons must be scared! Either they’re hiding in the village awaiting death, or..." In the tent, as the campfire crackled, an upper-level warrior lowered his voice, "They’ve abandoned their nest and fled north!"

Someone worriedly said: "The Demon population is insufficient; they are no match for us. But if they truly run, it’s a problem! We can’t keep chasing them indefinitely, can we? What would the Empire Envoy say in this situation?"

This comment made everyone anxious.

Chasing for a day or two is manageable, but over a week is unsustainable with their supplies.

Yet, the Empire Envoy’s demand was the destruction of the Demon Tribe, bringing back a Demon Core...

At this point, Bastardos said, "Don’t worry, as for the lack of supplies, the Demons won’t fare better. Leaving their semi-abandoned Underground City, they can’t hold out for a week; a fight to the death is their only option!"

After reassuring everyone, Bastardos reminded them, "However, everyone should still be cautious. The Demons don’t seem like they’d wait to die—since we’re so close to their village, they should reveal their methods now. Divide the supplies into four parts and hide them in four locations, double the night watch!"

"Yes!"

Under Bastardos’s arrangement, four upper-level warriors personally stood guard at night to prevent any possible ambush.

The next morning, Bastardos was awoken by the frantic shouts of his subordinates.

"Chief! The supplies are gone!"

Bastardos sat up suddenly, yet there was no panic in his eyes: "Oh? The Demons finally made a move! Their target was indeed the supplies!"

Bastardos was reassured, for the enemy’s action was as he anticipated. Were he a Demon, faced with an overwhelmingly powerful army, the only choice was to target the opposing supplies.

He looked at the pale-faced messenger kneeling at the tent entrance, his tone steady with control: "Why panic? Stand up and speak clearly!"

"Ah... Yes, yes!" The chief’s composure calmed the half-demon messenger, who stood up.

"So, which supply point did the Demons raid? What about our night guards’ casualties?" Bastardos asked while dressing.

"Ra... raid?" The warrior lifted his head, confusion all over his face, "There was no raid, Chief! No fight, no enemies... but... but all four of the supply points disappeared overnight!"

The tent sank into a long, thirty-second silence; the warrior looked perplexedly at the chief.

The composure on Bastardos’s face cracked inch by inch. He stepped forward, gripping the warrior’s shoulders like iron pincers, his nails nearly digging into the flesh, bloodshot eyes threatening to pop from their sockets, and from his throat came a hoarse, distorted roar: "All of it?! What the hell are you—saying?!"