Mushroom Lord in the Underground City

Chapter 682: Chapter 671: Clearing the Way

Batches of wounded Demon Race soldiers were carried back from the front line, and Duke Eugene stationed his horse on a gentle slope, his eyes glancing past the groaning soldiers, falling on the horizon where occasional explosions still erupted.

An adjutant came galloping: "Sir, the casualty report for the vanguard has come out. There aren’t many dead, but quite a few have been seriously injured, mostly due to ambushes by those pretending to be dead, the Puki. They probably want to..."

"To use the wounded to slow down our pace." Eugene voiced the adjutant’s speculation.

The injured soldiers require the consumption of potions, need care, whether transported to the rear or carried along, slowing down the army more than simply losing a soldier.

And if Eugene ordered the injured and sick to fend for themselves, then in the future, his soldiers would inevitably all fear battle and injury.

However, this wasn’t a particularly novel tactic; the Empire often used similar tricks when dealing with humans.

Therefore, Eugene had his own way of dealing with it.

"Send orders, bring out that batch of slaves, the vanguard shall supervise them."

...

"You, come here!"

The fierce horned demon supervisor shoved Evan and other slaves together, bringing them to the front of the army.

Though Evan was wrapped in fairly thick clothes, the wind from the Northern Territory was still bone-chilling.

His body no longer held the vigor it once had as a soldier; after being captured, he was like a commodity, sold many times over.

Demon merchants, mine supervisors, estate managers, finally falling into the logistics unit of this northern expeditionary force.

A year of slavery had drained his body, leaving only a skeleton, ribs protruding piece by piece, with skin loosely hanging on them like an ill-fitting old coat.

Unlike other numb slaves, he knew what the Empire Army was doing with so many slaves; he had witnessed it.

Back then, he wore the Kingdom Army’s armor, stood behind the crenelations, obeyed orders from above, and shot arrows at prisoners and slaves pushed forward.

Those people cried, cursed, forced forward by the knives and swords of the Demon Race, then collapsed en masse beneath the walls.

And now, it was his turn below.

Slaves were each distributed a shovel, nothing else.

Evan took the shovel, its iron handle cold enough to burn.

They were scattered, divided among different Demon Race squads.

Evan was pushed by a lizardman soldier, brought before a pitted slope.

The holes were pitch-black, filled with mycelium.

"Clear out those holes." The lizardman nodded toward the holes, "Level them."

Evan grasped the shovel, glancing back.

Three Demon Race members stood not far behind him, explosive crossbows constantly aimed at his back.

Boom!

A nearby explosion rang out.

That was another slave who, while filling a hole, encountered a Puki emerging.

And the Demon Race supervising him didn’t hesitate, using explosive crossbows to blow up both him and the Puki.

"Indeed..." His speculation confirmed, Evan recognized he was faced with a dead end.

Fear, humiliation, followed by anger!

Why hadn’t he died in that war?

Since he was destined to die, why must he pave the way for the Demon Race he despised with his flesh and blood?

Evan clenched the shovel, suddenly turning, ready to fight.

However, seeing this, the three supervisors of the vanguard instead sheathed their crossbows.

A horned demon soldier stepped forward, drew a blade, knocked the shovel out of his thin hands with a strike, Evan, skeletal and weak, could only watch as the visibly disgruntled horned demon brought down a second slash.

"What’s the logistics doing? Even trained goods like this are shoved in!"

"Alright, alright, the task is urgent, let’s quickly go back and fetch two more for use."

None spared a glance at Evan lying in the snow, even though he was still breathing.

Blood carried life out of his body, in life’s final moment, Evan seemed to see his daughter approaching.

"Bi... Anka..."

"Daughter" Puki Puki approached, then stretched out tendrils, stuffing his exposed viscera back in, sprinkled some spores over, and dragged him into a nearby larger hole...

When the three Demon Race returned with two more slaves, the horned demon frowned and looked around, "Strange, where’s the human?"

"Hiding or taken by a Puki," guessed another Demon Race, unbothered, "Forget it, after your strike, could he seriously have survived?"

"True." The horned demon nodded after listening, then drew his blade, viciously threatened the two slaves to start working.

A similar scene unfolded in various corners.

After the Empire started using slaves to fill holes, although Puki harassment persisted, their attack methods soon shifted from self-destruction to tendril stabbings or Hallucinogenic Spores.

In this process, most slaves didn’t die by Puki’s hands but were killed by Demon Race’s explosive crossbows.

As for those injured and abandoned, they were quietly picked up by Puki.

For Lin Jun, these slaves were high-quality populations that could be easily converted into the Fungus Castle’s ranks.

Much easier to modify than those captured Imperial Soldiers!

Using these slaves to clear holes was, to Lin Jun, akin to paying a toll.

Since the fee was paid, Lin Jun temporarily refrained from giving his army additional trouble, focusing instead on absorbing the population.

During this time, Bardor launched an ambush, seizing the moment when the Empire Army focused on the front, led a small elite force to raid the army’s rear, aiming directly at logistics.

Sadly, even with various stealth tactics, a Demon Race spotted them in advance.

In the end, they could only raid briefly, causing some casualties, then retreated before being surrounded.

Having failed once, Bardor didn’t attempt a second time.

With Eugene prepared, one wrong move could instead threaten him.

Bardor was brave but not foolish.

Though frustrated by the failed raid, thereafter, he stayed honestly in the Dwarf Camp, waiting for the Empire Army to arrive.

Meanwhile, the Empire Army, besides filling holes, cleared Hallucinogenic Mushroom Forests, Petrifying Mushroom Forests, Corrosive Mushroom Forests along the way...

Because these mushroom forests appeared suspicious from afar, they didn’t cause much casualty but truly slowed the Empire Army’s progress.

A journey of less than a week was dragged out to nearly half a month before reaching the Gong River.

Two adjutants looked from afar at the defensive camp across the river, one scoffing, "Do they think dragging us out can wear us down?"

Their tone full of disdain, though his complaint actually stemmed from the continual frustration caused by countless mushrooms along the way.

Another adjutant exhaled with some curiosity, "Say, don’t you think the weather is getting cold again?"

"It’s colder the farther north we go! What, frozen stupid?"

"True..."