Chapter 47

Amid the incessant rain, the group cautiously proceeded towards the dark red mountain-like structure in the forest, gradually slowing their pace.

"There's no sign of movement... yet."

From a distance, it was impossible to discern what it was. Gilbert and his companions recalled the small, frog-like undead beasts they had seen in the village, but the stillness of the object before them felt unsettling, even eerie.

As they advanced, occasionally defeating undead beasts detected by the clerics, they found that there were far fewer medium-sized beasts than they had anticipated. Eventually, as their field of vision opened up, they saw a small manor surrounded by a cleric's barrier, just before the dark red mountain.

"Someone's there."

"That manor is located right where the barrier used to be..."

Noticing the multiple carriages and the sound of hooves, people emerged from inside. An elderly Jiemerld knight and about five priests, all of whom looked terribly haggard. Upon seeing the group, they appeared shocked, but stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak.

"Lord Clark... You're safe...!"

One of the elderly knights, who was called Lord Clark by a young Jiemerld knight, seemed to recognize the group.

"You all... and you...!"

As the elderly knight Clark spotted Lionel among the approaching group, his face contorted as if he were about to cry.

"Lord Lionel..."

He whispered and fell to his knees. It looked like a respectful bow, but it also seemed as if he had simply lost the strength to stand.

Just as they were about to ask for an explanation, the dark red mountain gave a faint, almost imperceptible movement, and everyone turned to look.

"What...? Did that mountain just get a little lower!?"

"Look at the edges, it's... spreading...?"

It was similar to the way mud from a swamp slowly spreads across the ground.

"Hey, could that be... a viscous magic fungus, the kind that lives in ponds and swamps?"

"Come on, you must be joking... If so, that color... Could it be an undead viscous magic fungus!?"

The mercenaries, who were familiar with beasts, began to murmur.

The viscous magic fungus, as its name suggests, is a mass of small, amoeba-like fungi that have been transformed by magic. Though classified as a living organism, its inanimate characteristics make it far from what is typically considered a beast.

"It's definitely an undead version... It looks like a mass of miasma..."

The clerics responded with grim expressions.

The sight of the mountain, which seemed to have a will of its own, like mud from a rotten swamp, was the most plausible explanation. However, its size was extraordinary. The surface was dark red and decayed, with parts resembling murky, waterlogged mud, but it was nothing more than a moving mass of mud and rotting flesh.

"Hey! Look over there! That's armor, isn't it...?"

Pointing in a direction, they saw part of a knight's armor exposed in the mud.

"Could it be that the missing knights were... swallowed by that...?"

When Gilbert whispered this, the elderly knight Clark, still sitting on the ground, looked up with a pained expression, trying to speak but unable to form words. His reaction seemed to confirm it.

"If that's a slime, the knight might still be alive!"

One of the mercenaries shouted.

"In that state?"

"Yeah, slimes come in various types, but most keep captured creatures in a state of suspended animation, feeding them nutrients and slowly absorbing their magic over time."

"But wouldn't they suffocate once swallowed?"

"Look closely at the top. See those bubble-like things floating? They create air pockets to keep the captured creatures alive."

Focusing on the part the mercenary pointed to, they could see several large, eerie bubbles, expanding and bursting as if breathing.

"The question is, how do we rescue them... and how do we defeat something that big..."

"Slimes usually stay at the bottom of swamps. They're rarely hunted unless there's a mass outbreak and people are being swallowed."

"What do you do in those cases?"

"Pour oil and set it on fire. But if it's an undead version, fire won't work..."

Everyone sighed in frustration upon hearing this.

"Since it's a mass of tiny fungi... Blunt weapons might crush it a bit, but how much can we cut with sword strikes?"

"We don't have the time or resources to build a trebuchet here."

Lionel frowned at his sword, while the cleric tightened his grip on a vial of holy water. Each person fell into deep thought, and silence descended.

Sitting on the driver's seat of a carriage, Dolph, with his arms crossed and eyes closed, observed the situation. He then raised his head.

"There's no other choice. It's time to bring out our secret weapon."

"What is it, old man? Do you have a plan!?"

Gilbert's voice was filled with hope, and everyone's attention turned to him, except for the elderly knights.

"Ah, right. The battle axe..."

Gilbert looked at the blade of his battle axe, which was covered with treated leather to protect it from the rain. He smiled awkwardly and removed the cover, revealing a blade that glowed faintly in the rain.

"First and foremost, safety first! If it gets too dangerous, we retreat! Everyone, got it!?"

Dolph's words were met with nods from Lionel and the others, who smiled awkwardly.

The elderly knight Clark, upon seeing the blade of Gilbert's battle axe, gasped and froze. He then bit his lip, looked down, and made a gesture as if trying to shake off something. After a moment, he raised his head with a determined expression.

"There's a manor where the slime is. It's where the Duke of Jiemerld was convalescing."

"What!?"

Lionel and the others looked at the elderly knight in shock.

"We don't know if His Excellency is still alive, but if possible, we want to help. Please, lend us your strength..."

He bowed his head in a plea, still kneeling.

"We can't promise anything yet. We'll do what we can."

Lionel answered with a stern expression, and Gilbert and the others nodded in agreement.

"By the way, there was a mage's barrier here until last night, right? What happened to it...?"

"He... was consumed by the 'undead mud' last night. But he was already... at his limit."

The elderly knight Clark, still on his knees, spoke as if confessing, with a pained expression.

"The undead mud, made of undead beasts, contains crystals of gathered magic. He used that to maintain the barrier."

"Did you try to use the undead beasts as a perpetual power source for the barrier?"

The priest Sydney, who had been listening silently, spoke up.

"No, that was a byproduct. Once this is dealt with and we know the Duke's fate, I'll explain everything."

The elderly knight fell silent, bowing his head. His shoulders trembled, whether from fear or for another reason.

With the possibility of survivors, there was no time for more questions. Led by Gilbert, the group began to move.