Mushroom Lord in the Underground City

The towering shadow of Forgefire City’s walls loomed in the dusk, while the gates stood open and people queued up to enter.

Bado saw from afar the newly erected wooden sign, inscribed with "No entry for parasitized individuals," looking hastily crafted with wood shavings still clinging to the edges.

Since Bado did not conceal the traces of mycelium on his body, he quickly caught the attention of other dwarves around him.

Others looked at Bado with disgust and wariness, murmuring among themselves as they avoided him, creating a conspicuous vacuum in the previously tight line.

At the city gate, a guard stopped him.

"Halt! Didn’t see the sign outside? Parasitized individuals, no entry here. Go back where you came from!"

"I’ve come for the council meeting; I am Ba—"

"I don’t care who you are!" The guard’s voice rose as he pushed forward with his long halberd, the pole pressing against Bado’s chest plate. "Rules are rules. If you don’t leave, don’t blame me for being rude."

His other hand was already on the hilt of his sword at his waist, thumb poised against the guard, ready to unsheathe it at any moment.

Bado found the guard’s reaction somewhat amusing and was about to say more when a boot kicked the guard’s backside from behind.

The man exclaimed "Hey!" as he fell forward, ready to curse, but upon seeing the gate captain standing behind him with a grim expression, he swallowed his words.

The captain ignored him and walked straight to Bado.

"Lord Bado, don’t take it to heart with these rookies who have never been on a battlefield yet." The gate captain then spoke excitedly, "Sir, speaking of which, I fought alongside you in the Northern Territory once! Unfortunately, luck was not on my side, got ambushed by a Blood Race during the chase."

As he spoke, he shook his severed hand.

Bado glanced at the empty sleeve and remained silent for a moment. "I need to enter the city."

"Lord Bado, indeed, a new regulation has just been set. Parasitized individuals cannot remain in the city. But since it’s you..." He paused, stepping aside to clear the way, pointing towards a wooden chair inside the gate. "Why don’t you sit here for a while, and I’ll pass on your message."

Without further explanation, after briefing his subordinates, he turned and sprinted into the city, soon vanishing around the street corner.

The young guard got up from the ground, rubbing his sore backside, and walked to the chair, secretly curiously eyeing the rumored hero.

...

The gate captain didn’t come back alone; a silver-haired elderly woman followed him, her steps measured and unhurried.

She approached Bado, shook loose from her arms a dark gray cloak with a wide hood and windproof fleece edging, casually tossing it to him.

"Bado, what have you done to yourself?" Bretta massaged her brow, her voice full of frustration. "And at such a critical juncture."

Bado didn’t touch the cloak, but instead walked alongside Bretta, recounting the incident with the Blue Dragon: "...coming back alive was already lucky."

Bretta sighed, "Such turbulent times..."

The two continued down Forgefire City’s main street; the stone houses rose and fell on either side as the sound of iron anvils echoed from the depths of alleys.

Bretta talked about the situation with the Clan Council.

The threat of mycelium parasitism was undeniable; everyone agreed that something must be done, but opinions differed on how to proceed.

She hoped to find a method to eliminate the mycelium from within, having gained some inspiration from the Empire, already having some leads.

For now, controlling the growth rate of parasitized individuals was sufficient.

But Firebeard and Blacksteel were infuriated by recent assassination attempts, insisting on rounding up parasitized individuals with increasingly harsh measures.

Deep Furnace, on the other hand, wavered; his focus was entirely on combat puppets, afraid of angering Fungus Castle and affecting the S-Class Demon Crystal trade line, indifferent to the fate of parasitized individuals.

In matters of this magnitude, decisions rarely emerged from the council hall without at least three clans reaching consensus.

But this time, the Dwarf King stepped in.

Normally, he waited until clan leaders had almost finished arguing or until the conflict reached a stalemate before he made a decisive intervention.

But this time, as soon as Firebeard proposed the suggestion, the king immediately expressed his support, speeding the council’s decision along.

"But this will only make our army lose combat strength, just like the Empire facing the Northern Territory. They are aware! Why would the King make such a decision?" Bado exclaimed angrily.

"I don’t know either."

"I need to see the King, at least to understand why."

"The mastermind behind the series of assassination attempts hasn’t been caught yet; the King has stopped meeting with anyone privately, and so have the other clan leaders." Bretta looked at him, her gaze resting on the gray mycelium on his arm, shaking her head. "If it were the old you, the King might see you. But now, in this state..."

Bado said nothing, only turning his head to gaze at the stone tower where the royal residence lay, abruptly stepping towards it.

Bretta grabbed his arm, "My hero, please don’t cause more trouble. Just wait a few days; I’ll try to persuade the King for you, okay?"

Bado looked at her, "A few days?"

Bretta’s eye twitched, but she replied, "Three days, just three! If it doesn’t work out, you can force your way in, I won’t stop you!"

Temporarily convinced by Bretta, Bado stayed at the inn for the time being.

At night, Bado once again fell into that chaotic dreamscape.

This time, the half-demon did not appear; in the depths of chaos, only a human mage sat cross-legged on an open ground, eyes closed in meditation.