The Demonic Cultivator In Zombie World - Chapter 81: Little Grass King
Chu Xuan, observing the two articulate mushroomen, revealed a slight smile. Having set up the Hundred Woods Nurturing Spirit Array and created a wood attribute spiritual item, he had begun searching for the so-called big brother, second brother, and third brother.
Reviewing maps of the surrounding provinces and analyzing the attack and retreat patterns of the mushrooman, he quickly surmised that they originated from the northern part of Hanhai Province.
Combining this with the fact that the Great Dream Marsh was renowned for its diverse fungal life, Chu Xuan deduced that their stronghold was likely located there.
Navigating on his flying sword, his journey was uneventful save for a few overconfident birds that he effortlessly dispatched. Even if he was wrong and the Great Dream Marsh was not the mushrooman’s main base, the trip wouldn’t be a waste. The marsh was teeming with a variety of life forms, potentially housing formidable supernatural creatures.
Upon reaching the outskirts of the Great Dream Marsh, Chu Xuan immediately noticed mushrooman lurking in dark corners—underwater, in dead tree trunks, and even underground. It became clear to him that this was indeed the mushrooman’s stronghold, and his guess was confirmed.
“Kill!” Ink Cap growled, his voice sending ripples through the air. The once tranquil marsh erupted as countless mushrooman awakened from their hiding spots and surged towards Chu Xuan in a frenzy.
Chu Xuan deployed the Corpse Nurturing Tower, and the three corpse puppets transformed into streaks of black light, tearing through the mushroom ranks. Wherever they passed, mushroomen were thrown backward—chests caved in, heads burst open, or bodies torn in half. They stood no chance against his might.
At that moment, Green Cap puffed up its body, releasing a cloud of green spores toward Chu Xuan. However, with a casual grasp, a gigantic claw materialized from thin air, clenching tightly around him.
The cloud of green spores was instantly incinerated by the Corpse Refining Blood Fire, emitting high-pitched squeals as if numerous tiny lives were perishing in the flames.
Green Cap, tightly gripped by the Yin Evil Demon Claw, made sounds as if it was under immense strain. Painful screams escaped its mouth. Ink Cap watched in horror; Green Cap was nearly as strong as it was, yet it stood no chance at all against Chu Xuan’s power.
“Immortal, we don’t wish to be your enemies,” Ink Cap declared, his gaze fierce. “But if you push us, we will fight with everything we have!”
Chu Xuan looked on with interest, “Oh? Let’s see what you’ve got.”
With a roar of “Kill!” Ink Cap suddenly unleashed a cloud of black spores from beneath its feet, shrouding itself completely.
In a surprising turn… it fled.
Chu Xuan: “…”
Smart enough to know when to run. But escape was just wishful thinking in front of him.
“Go, Huikong,” Chu Xuan said nonchalantly.
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Whoosh!
The Evil Soul Chain shot through the air, snaking like a black python and instantly catching up to Ink Cap from behind. A ferocious, bald-headed spirit burst forth from within the chain—Huikong, the battle monk from the Golden Dragon Temple.
With a cackle, Huikong pounced, and Ink Cap immediately felt as if a cold, malevolent beast was targeting it. Its speed slowed just enough for the Evil Soul Chain to wrap it up tightly.
Moments later, the chain dragged Ink Cap back to Chu Xuan’s side. Ink Cap’s eyes darted around, looking for a chance to release a spore cloud, but Chu Xuan swiftly slapped both Ink Cap and Green Cap on their heads.
The raging Corpse Refining Blood Fire burst forth, incinerating them into two piles of charred remains. No chances were given.
“Let’s go home,” Chu Xuan said, turning away. “Pity we didn’t catch the third one. We couldn’t wrap this up in one go.”
Chu Xuan shook his head in mild regret, contemplating the one that got away. The marsh was quieter now, the immediate threat neutralized, but the air still hummed with the tension of unfinished business.
…
As Panther Cap led his followers through the forests, a sense of urgency gripped him. Ink Cap had warned him that the Immortal was targeting them, and they needed to abandon all their engagements and return to the Great Dream Marsh immediately.
The terrifying reputation of the Immortal was something Panther Cap had been aware of for quite some time. The mushroom spores, their primary method of information gathering, had relayed countless pieces of intelligence and news back to them, including activities in East Lake City.
The spores had reached East Lake City several times, carried by the wind, birds, and even zombies—these were their methods of dissemination. However, the mushrooman were surprised to find that East Lake City lacked suitable hosts for their parasitism; the human population was sparse, and there were no zombies to be found.
Back then, the intelligence of the mushrooman was not very developed, and the four leaders—the Mushroom Brothers—were still naive in their understanding of the world. They instinctively avoided East Lake City due to these unfavorable conditions.
As they assimilated more humans and supernatural beings, the intelligence of the Mushroom Brothers grew. Eventually, they realized that East Lake City was a forbidden zone, inhabited by an “Immortal.”
In the eyes of the Immortal, all supernatural beings were mere insects—the only distinction being between those who were useless and those who were useful.
Every powerful supernatural being that had risen in the southeastern provinces had met its end at the hands of the Immortal. Even the ambitious Zombie Empress, who loved to expand her territory, dared not extend her reach into East Lake City. The Immortal was known to operate out of East Lake City and its surroundings.
Panther Cap could not understand why the Immortal had suddenly turned his attention toward them. As he pondered and hastened his pace, a sudden chill gripped him as he saw a streak of sword light flash overhead, disappearing as quickly as it appeared—swift like lightning.
“That was the Immortal’s doing!” he realized. “It came from the direction of the Great Dream Marsh! Could it be that my brothers are dead?”
A great fear welled up inside Panther Cap. He immediately hid, thankful that the sword light was high above, and seemed in a hurry to return somewhere, not bothering with the ground situation. His presence went unnoticed.
After waiting ten minutes following the disappearance of the sword light, Panther Cap cautiously emerged from his hiding spot, his eyes filled with hatred as he looked in the direction the light had gone.
“I can’t stay in the Great Dream Marsh any longer; I must leave this place. I’m the last one left; I must avenge my brothers,” he resolved, clenching his teeth.
Just then, he sensed something unusual. Whirling around, he spotted a tender green sprout not far off on the ground. The small grass, less than thirty centimeters tall, swayed in the wind like a green sprite, its vibrant green color starkly contrasting with the surrounding apocalyptic wasteland—it seemed more like something out of a pristine forest.
Panther Cap relaxed, “Grass King, it’s you. I thought you were some other supernatural being.”
His eyes burned with fervor, “So, are you here to help me?”
This sprout of grass was as powerful as the Mushroom Brothers, another extraordinary being in its own right. Nobody knew why a mere weed could become supernatural, and the Mushroom Brothers had wisely never asked.