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Fist-sized spores burst in mid-air as they descended from the cap of the towering mushroom. Countless fine particles rained down, blanketing the forest in a blizzard—though the temperature had hardly dropped nearly low enough for snow.
The mycelial carpet on the ground writhed and surged. A mass of fungal tendrils squirmed across the thick, white velvet-like layer, rushing toward Wang Yu like a foaming wave. The entire fungal bed undulated like a white sea, rolling with uncanny momentum.
Among the churning tide of spores and filaments, the mushroom folk, their bodies wholly claimed by the spreading mycelium, charged forward, brandishing crude weapons as they launched a wild assault on Wang Yu.
"Sif, gather around!"
Wang Yu gestured to the tall tree beside him, signaling for the elven ranger perched above to descend. Even at her height, the sudden storm posed a threat. Inhaling those invasive spores could be very dangerous indeed.
Sif dropped from the tree, landing lightly on Wang Yu's shoulder with practiced ease. Neither Avia nor Sif's weight was of concern to him.
As he glanced toward the advancing wave of enemies, Wang Yu remained calm. Half a year ago, he might have considered retreating before such overwhelming numbers....
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