Chapter 641: Fungi and the Dwarven Prince
Cassius curled up in the cave, his mountain-sized body rising and falling with his breath, hot white steam constantly billowing out.
At this moment, the Red Dragon was like a living volcano, its body storing terrifying heat. And yet, this was only the power from his ancestral dragon bloodline—Cassius's strength extended far beyond that.
The divine power of the Sun God, the force of Order, the flame of Chaos, the essence of the Elemental Plane, and even the source of Heaven were all interwoven within that massive body,
If a mortal possessed such a chaotic and mottled power, their body would've long since exploded. But within the ancestral dragon's form, these powers counterbalanced one another, ultimately achieving a delicate equilibrium, like a self-operating miniature world.
"Roar——"
The Red Dragon let out a low growl, spewing heatwaves that warped the air before slowly opening his eyes and awakening from his slumber once more.
Since the Ember Empire occupied North Aether, Cassius's true body had been sleeping in the region with the richest and most active magical energy—Feianso, whose surrounding mana network was far more active than the remote wilderness of Anzeta.
Still, Cassius hadn't been idle these past few days. He had sent out his golden dragon avatar to wander the lands, seeking allies to oppose the brutal Dragon Emperor—who was, in fact, himself.
He had even split off another half-dragon avatar who went by the name Count Hans and played at solving crimes and keeping the peace in Dragonhead City.
Yes, played.
Now that Cassius stood atop the material realm, his power was too great. Every move he made could shake the world, and the matters that required his direct intervention were growing fewer by the day.
Cassius didn't want to be like other ancient dragons, endlessly sleeping and losing all sense of time and life.
So he needed extra activities to maintain his personality and resist being completely devoured by the overwhelming "draconic nature" of his ancestral blood, lest he become nothing more than a beast.
"This nap wasn't too long. Merely three months. And the Empire's already fully taken control of North Aether."
Through his avatar Count Hans, Cassius could stay fully informed of the Empire's governance over Aether—only Prime Minister Langpu knew his true identity.
Though the people of North Aether were not yet wholeheartedly loyal, and many "did not yet accept Imperial rule," their resistance had faded significantly, and society under the Empire was beginning to run smoothly.
Still, there had been little actual reform. The Empire's rule focused primarily on stability and had yet to infringe upon the old powers' interests.
But soon, the Empire's merchants and industrialists would pour into this untapped "virgin land," bringing with them towering smokestacks, massive machines, ever-burning lights—and a new way of life.
"My body seems to have grown again. This cave feels a little cramped now."
Cassius twisted his neck and looked down at himself. His size had increased once more—from snout to tailtip, he was nearly sixty meters long.
After gradually digesting the Sun God's divine power, the Red Dragon's body glowed with a faint golden light. Even his eyes and the corners of his mouth flickered with gold-red flames, making him appear almost divine.
"This power harmonizes with me quite nicely," Cassius licked his lips, eyes flashing with that unmistakable draconic greed.
"The divine power from just these dozen angelic bloodlines has given me such a boost. If I truly ascended to the supreme position of the Sun God—"
Feeling the power within him that could seemingly incinerate all things, and gazing up at the blazing sun in the sky, Cassius suddenly understood why Aragon I made the choices he did.
Faced with such ultimate, dazzling glory—who could remain rational?
Cassius looked to the magical communicator in the corner of the cave, noticing several unread messages, all sent by Langpu.
—It seemed the ogre mage had successfully completed the task assigned to him.
After so many years together, Cassius had gotten used to tossing every bothersome task to Langpu and then going right to sleep, waking up only to receive the finished results. He had turned Langpu into the ultimate tool.
Still, Langpu was passionate about lightening his master's load and working toward the "grand vision." He always gave his all to get things done perfectly.
"Beep——"
The communicator glowed, projecting a magical image of Langpu's hideous face. Only now, he looked utterly drained. Even his dragon scales couldn't hide the dark circles around his eyes.
"My noble master, by the time you see this message, you should be awake. Congratulations on growing even stronger once again."
Without wasting time on flattery, Langpu jumped right into the report: "The orc bodies you gave me are extremely dangerous. They contain something that threatens the material plane itself.
Our researchers placed these fungal orc remains into various controlled environments. Within days, they propagated rapidly via hyphae division and spore sprouting. We're calling them 'orc spores.'
The reproduction rate of orc spores is absurdly fast. In dark, damp places, their numbers can grow tenfold—or even a hundredfold—in a single day.
Once they reach a certain density, they start forming mushroom-like structures. Beneath those mushrooms are eggs, and from the eggs emerge newborn orcs."
Langpu raised his hand, and a series of images from the Empire's breeding grounds appeared before Cassius. The meadows and swamps were packed with massive green mushrooms, so dense they sent a chill down one's spine.
Langpu continued, "In just a month, we've bred 1,200 green-skinned orcs using the remains you provided. Biologically, they're symbiotic fusions of animal and fungus, similar to the myconids of the Underdark, but much more powerful."
Langpu waved his staff again, and a video appeared in his report slideshow.
"WAAAAAGH!"
Hundreds of green orcs were trapped in cages, shrieking and slamming against the bars, desperate to escape and fight.
Outside the cages, Empire researchers in hazmat suits were carefully cleaning up orc remains shredded by bipedal wyverns, trying to prevent spore leakage.
In adjacent glass rooms, orcs were strapped to operating tables, howling and thrashing.
Some had lost arms and legs. Others were sliced open at the chest. Some were even cut clean in half and turned into biological specimens.
Empire researchers studied the severed tissues under microscopes, completely unfazed by the green blood covering them. In fact, they looked ecstatic, marveling at the bizarre biology.
Cassius watched the blood-soaked horror unfold. His lip twitched. Compared to the raging orcs, these Empire researchers looked more like the real villains.
"No wonder they're called players..."
—Alexia's native biology wasn't very advanced. These researchers came from Earth and were top-tier biological experts.
They were obsessed with this "realistic" ecology, staying in their gaming pods around the clock. Some were even compiling an "Alexia Biology Encyclopedia".
Langpu continued, "These orcs are physically formidable—much stronger than humans, nearly as strong as ogres.
They're aggressive but simple-minded, feel almost no pain, and emit a field that interferes with spellcasting. They're born to wage war. This can't be a natural species."
"Just as I thought."
Cassius scratched his chin with a claw, narrowing his eyes. "That familiar M.O.—this reeks of Abyssal interference."
Sure enough, Langpu added, "Our investigations suggest these green orcs draw their power from an Abyssal Lord."
He flipped the page.
A grotesque figure appeared—like an unfinished sculpture of a human body, caked in filth.
Her torso was made of flat and curled fungal growths that accidentally formed a feminine shape, with four fibrous horns sprouting from her brow.
Her lower half was a tangle of thick, tentacle-like pseudopods covered in fungus. Her skin was a revolting swirl of grays, blues, purples, and blacks.
Her pitch-black eyes writhed constantly, as if something wanted to crawl out of them. She radiated pure chaos and filth.
"What the hell..."
Cassius couldn't help cursing, shielding his eyes with a claw.
This wasn't just ugly. This was grotesque.
Even dragons, known for their broad aesthetic tolerance, would struggle with this one. Cassius even had a sudden urge to go to the Abyss and incinerate the thing.
Langpu introduced her solemnly, "This is the Lady of Fungi, Zuggtmoy, Lord of the 222nd Layer of the Abyss—and, we suspect, the source of the orc mutation."
"Zuggtmoy controls fungi and often creates fake religions secretly run by her true followers.
Thousands of years ago, she established the Temple of Elemental Evil, with each sect devoted to one of the four elements—but its members were all fungus creatures wearing human skins."
Cassius forced himself to examine the image, golden pupils filled with undisguised loathing.
"Damn Abyss... creating something so disgusting."
But there was no time to waste. In his past life, these orcs developed in secret for years and eventually unleashed a world-devouring tide.
Now that they understood the orcs' nature, the Ember Empire had to act first and control their numbers.
With that thought, Cassius's expression turned cold. "North Aether is stabilized. It's time to march northeast and annihilate the Crimsonblood Tribe.
As for conquering the Highland Dwarves? That's trivial for the Empire now."
Soon, the communicator lit up again, and Langpu's exhausted face reappeared—somehow looking even more worn out than before.
After seeing Zuggtmoy, Cassius now found Langpu's face oddly charming by comparison.
Langpu's tired expression brightened with joy. "Master, you're finally awake!"
Cassius nodded and issued a direct order. "Langpu, inform the Senate—it's time to strike northeast. The Empire has rested long enough."
"Yes, Master."
Langpu bowed deeply and solemnly accepted the command.
Cassius's orders didn't need Senate drafting or parliamentary approval—because the Emperor's will was the Empire's absolute law.
Blackstone Mountains, capital of the Highland Dwarves—Avenderdan.
In the majestic Dwarven palace built into the mountain, a secret conversation was quietly underway.
"...Remember, you must follow Lord Titus's commands and live under the protection of his wings," Edd said with heavy emphasis.
In front of him stood another stocky and sturdy dwarf, though his beard wasn't as thick as Edd's—it only covered half his cheek.
He was Zain Kline, Edd's son, prince of the Highland Kingdom and a brave, strong Warrior.
At just over fifty years old, Zain was still a hot-blooded youth by dwarven standards.
Zain looked up at his father, frustration and confusion in his eyes. "Father, why are you sending me away? I'm your son—but I'm also a Warrior of the Highland Kingdom. I have courage and faith. I want to live and die with Avenderdan! Let the invaders—be they orcs or dragons—taste our dwarven hammers!"
Edd's face turned bitter, and he sighed quietly. "Zain, I don't have much time left. I can't protect you anymore."
"Father—no, that's not true! You're lying, right? You still look strong—stronger than me!"
Zain's face filled with shock, his voice trembling.
Edd didn't explain. He simply shook his head and gently patted the Dwarven Prince's shoulder. "Zain, go follow the Wings of Dawn.
It's the only hope to preserve the civilization of our Highland Kingdom."