novellk Chapter 86 Zombie Mushroom Attack
Chapter 86 Zombie Mushroom Attack
The sound of hammering nails abruptly stopped on the sewage breakwater.
Elliott's raised hammer froze in mid-air, a bead of cold sweat dripping from his chin into the puddle.
Below the breakwater, the rustling sound that had initially seemed distant had somehow evolved into a rhythmic pattering. The noise sounded like some heavy, damp chunk of meat leaping and bounding along the steep rock face.
Using the dim light of the torches, several dark figures shot up directly from the edge of the abyss and crashed heavily onto the newly laid ballast and gravel.
The firelight illuminated the true faces of these uninvited guests.
It was a bizarre creature that sent chills down your spine at first glance. They had mottled mushroom caps covered in dark mold, and beneath the caps were two pitch-black, empty eyes. What was even more terrifying was that these things had no legs, but instead had a tattered yellow paper covered with dark red cinnabar runes pasted on their foreheads.
The zombie mushroom, which had been lurking deep inside the anthill for years, was thoroughly enraged by the violent industrial noise and blinding flames.
They leaped onto the breakwater with astonishing elasticity, bringing with them a putrid, musty smell. Inhaling that odor was like swallowing a handful of rusty iron filings, making one want to vomit uncontrollably.
"Back up! Don't let this filth corrode the newly laid load-bearing timber!" Meteor Hammer roared, retreating repeatedly.
The little snail shoved Elliott, who hadn't even reacted yet, picked up its spear, and stood alone at the narrow entrance to the breakwater.
"Perfect timing! I just finished my turn, time to practice!"
The little snail lowered its center of gravity, its legs rooted to the spot. Using the strength of its waist, it thrust the spear horizontally, the tip piercing through a zombie mushroom that had just landed.
The foul-smelling liquid splattered down the gun barrel.
However, the resistance to pulling out the spearhead was much greater than expected; the rotting flesh stuck it tightly. Before the little snail could even retract its weapon, it immediately sensed something was wrong.
This monster's attack method completely countered the spear's horizontal thrust defense.
The zombie mushrooms that followed didn't walk on flat ground at all. They compressed their shriveled bodies downwards, then sprang up with force, rising two or three meters high directly from the ground.
Several dark figures carrying yellow talismans crossed the blockade of spears and crashed into the unsuspecting logistics personnel behind them like cannonballs.
A zombie mushroom traced an arc in mid-air, heading straight for Elliott, who was holding a hammer and standing there in a daze.
Those empty, dark eyes were fixed on the top of the foreigner's head.
A whistling sound suddenly arose.
Two darts flew out from the shadow of the sewage pipe behind, piercing the cap of the zombie mushroom in mid-air with unerring accuracy. The immense penetrating force pinned it firmly to the supporting wooden pillar beside it.
The putrid liquid dripped down the blade of the dart.
A figure clad in dark leather armor, like a silent ghost, gracefully leaped down from above the sewage pipe.
Night Owl landed on his feet, gripped the dagger in reverse with both hands, and his body transformed into a blur as he slashed into the battlefield. Using the centrifugal force of his spinning body, the blade sliced through the air, and in the blink of an eye, he had slaughtered all the monsters that had managed to get close to the front line.
"The sewers are a well-known source of noise. The sound of you hammering nails could be heard throughout half of this ruined city." Night Cat casually pulled out the short knife nailed to the wooden pillar and forcefully shook off the filth. "I just took over the black market operations and followed the sound here."
With the addition of night owls, the pressure on the breakwater has been greatly reduced.
The spearman was responsible for mid-range positional annihilation, while the dagger was responsible for close-range anti-air operations and finishing off enemies; the two worked together seamlessly.
Meteor Hammer wasn't idle either; he tossed aside the wooden stick in his hand, bent down, and picked up a piece of old steel pipe that hadn't yet been laid. "Hey, little foreigner! Don't just stand there, come help!"
He called to Elliott, and the two of them worked together to wed the steel pipe between two protruding rocks, creating a half-meter-high roadblock on the edge of the breakwater, further compressing the monster's landing point for jumping.
However, hordes of zombie mushrooms crashed into it one after another, and the gaps in the rocks where the steel pipe was stuck soon began to crack, with small pieces of rock constantly rolling into the abyss.
The little snail's hand gripping the spear had cracked and was bleeding. Each time the spear thrust out, it brought back not only putrid scum, but also a sluggish feeling that made his arms ache.
Night Owl's breathing gradually became heavier. Although his dagger was fast, the physical exertion from facing such a lifeless creature that felt no pain and only attacked on instinct was far beyond what he had imagined.
The little snail peered through the torchlight down the breakwater and felt a chill run down its spine. Below, countless yellow talismans were leaping and bounding. Where the firelight illuminated, there was only a surging tide of mold and rotting flesh.
The massive horde of monsters has formed a small-scale beast tide.
The little snail exerted force with his wrist, flicked his spear, and sent a monster flying. Without turning his head, he roared back.
"Meteor Hammer! Run out and use the emblem to call for a whole roasted lamb!"
"Tell Archer Village!" The little snail's roar drowned out the monster's howl. "Leave a group to guard the farmland, and the rest of the warriors, come here! Bring your weapons, we're in for a big job!"
…………
Beside the farmland in Archer Village.
The whole roasted lamb was squatting on the ridge of the field, instructing several new players on how to use wooden stakes to secure themselves to the climbing vines.
A rapid vibration came from the metal emblem on his left arm.
After listening to the voice message, the whole roasted lamb jumped up from the muddy ground.
He rushed to the treehouse, stepped onto the freshly plowed mud ridge, grabbed a short wooden stick from the ground, and rang the broken bronze bell hanging on the tree trunk, which was used to summon players.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The piercing sound of bells echoed through the quiet village.
"Brothers! Stop farming!" Roasted Whole Lamb yelled, his voice trembling with excitement. "A new map has opened beneath the ruins! Monsters are spawning! We desperately need manpower on the front lines!"
In the distance, a large number of aspiring warrior players who were weeding and carrying manure stopped what they were doing.
A warrior player carrying two buckets of compost unhesitatingly loosened the carrying pole from his shoulder. The two buckets of fermented manure spilled onto the ground, emitting a foul stench, but he didn't even glance at them, instead drawing a rusty iron sword from his waist.
Nearby, several novice mage trainees, who were crawling in the mud pulling weeds, kicked over a bamboo basket full of weeds and tore off their mud-covered aprons.
Iron swords were pulled out from the ridges of the fields.
"Those who have allocated points to Strength, go ahead. Those planning to switch to Mage, stay!"
The prospective soldiers brushed the mud off their bodies, and their eyes, which had become numb from the monotonous farm work, were now burning with passion again.
A newbie with two weeds stuck in his hair slammed the wooden tower shield he was using as a cutting board on his back onto the ground, took out a polished wild boar tusk from his bag, tied it to his forearm with hemp rope to serve as a ram.
They didn't care about the mud on their armor. For these fourth Scourges, the tedious farm work was just a compromise to get food and credits.
But fighting and pioneering are instincts ingrained in our very bones.
Large numbers of fully armed farmers began to gather at the village entrance like a tide.
The indigenous people passing by watched in horror as this once peaceful agricultural village was transformed into a menacing expeditionary camp after a series of bell tolls.
Meanwhile, deep beneath the abandoned city, unnoticed by anyone, at the dark end illuminated by countless yellow talismans, accompanied by heavy breathing, a pair of white eyes, several times larger than ordinary zombie mushrooms and radiating a scarlet light, slowly opened from the shadows.