Free Web NovelChapter 594: Chapter 584: Feixi’s Conc
Sigmund asking this wasn’t because he had sensed some special connection.
The secret bond between the Mushroom Race and Lin Jun, born from the same soul, had nothing to do with him, and he didn’t have any Skills that could directly peer into the essence of a soul to discover anything.
The ragtag band of survivors in front of him looked as miserable as the lowest of refugees, yet they had still gone out of their way to bring back what appeared to be an ordinary Puki.
Just thinking it over a bit was enough to know that even if this Puki wasn’t one of the Mushroom Race the Empire had been secretly searching for lately, it had to be of some other extraordinary value.
Facing the Duke’s direct question, Mengya didn’t dare play dumb.
She knelt on the ground and answered carefully and respectfully:
"Honorable Lord Sigmund, your eyes are like torches. This strange Puki was something I happened to find by sheer luck at the edge of the fallen zone. I thought it might be of value to the Empire... to Duke Eleanor, whom I serve, so I risked my life to bring it back."
"You belong to Eleanor?" Sigmund raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
Mengya hoped Sigmund would, for Eleanor’s sake, refrain from snatching the Mushroom Race from under them, but she’d been out on field assignments constantly of late and clearly didn’t know much about the current state of relations between the two Dukes.
Eleanor had, recently, been causing Sigmund no small amount of trouble.
The "red wine" shipped by the Empire to be sold all over had been attacked several times—some successful, some not.
On the surface, it was done under the banner of bandits, but in the shadows, there were faint traces of Eleanor’s faction.
Sigmund, however, wasn’t particularly angry; he actually found it rather amusing.
He knew very well that this was because that woman Eleanor couldn’t find out the precise source of his goods and had been forced into a corner.
In response, Sigmund simply made a slight adjustment to how he traded with those Blood Race nobles, having them send their own people to his territory to pick up the goods.
Sure enough, there had been no more "accidents" on the transport routes afterward.
Eleanor might be foolish, but she clearly wasn’t so foolish as to dare offend all her Blood Race colleagues at once.
And now, a Puki accidentally discovered by her subordinates, one highly likely to be a Mushroom Race Puki secretly sought by the Empire’s upper echelons, had somehow ended up on his territory...
What was there left to say?
Sigmund walked forward, picked Thirteen up, and turned it left and right, carefully examining it. freёwebnovel.com
What surprised Mengya was that the Mushroom Race Puki, who had always hated being picked up, was actually being very well-behaved this time; even when Duke Sigmund squeezed it hard to test its springiness, it didn’t resist!
It must have been intimidated by the Duke’s unfathomable dignity and Power—Mengya could only guess that much.
As for Thirteen, its feelings at this moment were far more complicated. On a physical level, it instinctively loathed being handled like this by a non-mushroom. But on the other hand, deep down inside, an almost tranquil sense of calm rose up, like returning to the warm embrace of the Fungal Mat.
Caught between the two sensations, it chose to crash its system.
After quite a while, Sigmund finally seemed to finish his inspection and gently set Thirteen back on the ground.
He turned and paced back to that obviously widened high-backed chair, his heavy body sinking into the shadows.
"Take good care of your Puki." His gaze swept over the anxious Mengya and Stinky Fish. "Simon, see them down to rest and change into some proper equipment. Since they’re Imperial Soldiers, they shouldn’t be leaving looking like a bunch of beggars."
"Yes!" Adjutant Simon immediately accepted the order, motioning for these lucky survivors to follow him out of the hall.
...
After changing into a brand-new standard Leather Armor and cloak, and finally enjoying a hot bath again after so long, Mengya, feeling refreshed all over, returned to the barracks room they’d been temporarily assigned and let out a long breath.
"Hoo—scared me to death!" She patted her chest, a look of post-disaster relief on her face. "I thought for sure the Duke would confiscate the Puki! I never expected he’d just let us walk out... Duke Sigmund really is an extraordinary, broad-minded big shot!"
Beside her, Stinky Fish also nodded, for once not contradicting Mengya. In that situation, if it had been him, he’d definitely have intercepted that Puki first and argued later.
Even if he didn’t seize it outright, he’d at least take the chance to get involved in this Mushroom Race affair.
Who would have thought this Duke would be so by-the-book, not showing a hint of greed in the face of something so important.
"But, speaking of which," Mengya leaned in closer, lowered her voice, and wore a slightly puzzled expression, "hasn’t Lord Sigmund always been commanding on the front lines? If I’m not mistaken, his chair was twice as wide as Lord Eleanor’s! Commanding a war at the front, and he still managed to get this... well-nourished? Or rather, this is the first time I’ve ever seen such a fat Bloo—"
"Shut up! You idiot!" Stinky Fish sprang up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his bony hand clamping down over Mengya’s mouth, his eyes full of shock and anger. "Are you tired of living? We’re still in High Castle Fortress! This is his turf! Do you want to end up made into a Blood Slave and hung on the city wall to dry?"
Mengya mumbled frantically under his hand, then quickly pried it off, shrank her neck, and didn’t dare speak recklessly again.
Off to the side, Thirteen relived the feeling of being picked up by Sigmund over and over; if it could stay here, it felt that wouldn’t be so bad.
Unfortunately, that Blood Race whose build was close to a Puki’s didn’t seem to have any intention of keeping it.
...
"My lord, are we really... not going to stick a hand in?" Adjutant Simon couldn’t hold back and quietly suggested again, eyes full of regret.
"I have my own considerations. You may go." Sigmund waved his adjutant away.
"Yes." Simon didn’t dare say more and bowed himself out.
The vast, chilly hall was left with only Sigmund alone.
Mushroom Race, Puki...
The disastrous defeat at Dragon Roar Valley had been thanks to the Puki Master army. freёwebnovel.com
When it came to how important the Mushroom Race was, he understood it far better than most people in the Empire.
However, he had his own concerns.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t tempted, nor was he afraid of that foolish woman Eleanor, who only knew how to play cheap tricks, making trouble for him afterward.
What he truly worried about was the roommate who shared this body with him.
Because he couldn’t conceal his actions, he had never been able to freely investigate this roommate’s background.
But from various clues, he suspected that behind this roommate, there were likely all sorts of entanglements with those Mushroom Race forces that had suddenly appeared.
He even... more boldly speculated that the roommate himself might actually be a Mushroom Race!
In the confrontation at the soul level, he was already at a disadvantage.
If he rashly brought a Mushroom Race, very likely connected to that roommate, into his territory, he was afraid he’d completely lose control of the situation.
Weighing the pros and cons, he had generously allowed Mengya to leave with that suspected Mushroom Race Puki.
In any case, he was facing the United Kingdom; humans could barely protect themselves right now, so there was no way a large-scale war would break out in the short term. Using Pukis to enhance combat power wasn’t exactly urgent.
Better to let Eleanor be the trailblazer, and in the process, he could observe how the Mushroom Race and Blood Race reacted to contact with each other.
After thinking for a moment, he raised his arm, intending to summon his trusted subordinates and arrange for more spies to infiltrate Eleanor’s sphere of influence to monitor that Mushroom Race’s subsequent movements.
Just then.
Clang... clang... clang...
The clock embedded in the wall behind him chimed the hour, the sound long and heavy.
"Sigmund’s" raised arm paused halfway, then changed course.
He deftly turned sideways and reached into a hidden compartment behind the wide chair, taking out a jar of clear golden honey and a bottle of crimson Delicious red wine.
He unscrewed the jar lid, popped the cork—one mouthful of honey, one mouthful of wine.
He narrowed his eyes in satisfaction, and the whole person transformed from a sturdy, upright fat Blood Race into a puddle of Blood Race.
