Part of the caravan had been torn apart.
What was once a majestic cargo machine, resplendent in black and gold and adorned with fine woodwork, had become nothing more than a tangle of twisted scrap. The wagons were dented—some bore deep cracks, others were barely holding together under their battered structures. The one that took the heaviest blow seemed on the verge of collapsing at any moment.
The mercenaries were scattered on the ground, many missing limbs, others staring blankly, trapped between pain and horror at the sight before them.
A few meters from the caravan, imposing and covered in scars, stood the queen of the troop.
She was a massive, almost three-meter-tall orangutan with silver fur. Her eyes, burning a deep red, reflected a primitive fury. Her very presence exuded a suffocating aura—as if the air around her was charged with unbearable pressure.
The beasts surrounding her roared with rage. This was no ordinary enemy.
This was a great beast.
Under normal circumstances, a group of masters might have faced such a threat. But the reality was very different.
The mercenaries were exhausted. Injured. Barely keeping their footing.
The only one still moving without faltering was Huo-Huo.
With a cold, empty expression, he stepped forward.
He would be the one to confront the beast.
There was no other option.
The others could barely hold their weapons; none but him could endure even a single blow from that creature.
Could he defeat it?
No.
But he could withstand it.
The orangutan and Huo-Huo exchanged no words—it wasn't necessary. Both knew what was coming.
In a flash, they launched themselves at one another.
The clash was brutal.
Each punch thundered in the night.
Every impact tore through flesh and skin, rending meat as it passed.
It was a contest of raw strength.
Huo-Huo, a practitioner of the Force Path, managed to match the monster's power… but he had his disadvantage.
The beasts accompanying the queen would not stand idly by.
Within seconds, they swarmed upon Huo-Huo, trying to overwhelm him with their sheer numbers.
He adjusted his stance, retreating slightly into a more defensive position. He could not afford to fall—not yet.
Meanwhile, the remaining mercenaries began to rally, though they could barely remain upright.
Han-Lee…
Han-Lee had no sword.
He lacked a functional arm.
His legs were hardly operational.
But none of that mattered.
With a dagger held in the only functional hand he had left, he plunged into the fray.
Howling like a wild animal, he tore and shredded at the monkeys with his bare teeth and nails.
He no longer appeared merely human, nor did he seem like a typical warrior—it was as if he had become a beast himself.
Seeing that the battle was far from over, the other mercenaries gathered every bit of energy they had and began casting their spells.
They had to hold back the troop.
Yet, the attacks directed at the queen were futile.
Her thick fur was like natural armor—nothing could pierce it.
And the beast, indifferent, decided instead to charge at the caravan.
The caravan's owner sprang to the front.
He invoked a stone barrier spell to block the impact.
The first blow was held.
The second… was not.
The barrier shattered into pieces, and the impact crushed part of the ground.
Fortunately, the mercenaries managed to reposition before they were reduced to pulp.
Without missing a beat, Huo-Huo reengaged the queen—enduring with every ounce of strength he had.
At the same time, the rest fought to prevent the horde from closing in.
It was a massacre.
But then…
Amid the chaos, a smile appeared on Fungi's face.
He had finished the spell.
After so many hours…
It was done.
Perhaps it no longer covered every soul as originally intended, but that didn't matter.
He had completed it.
With an unsettling calm, he slipped toward the caravan unnoticed.
Then it happened.
The mercenaries felt a change—Their bodies… transformed.
Their souls… altered.
In a matter of seconds, their wounds vanished.
Those who had been on the brink of death… now felt reborn.
The mutilated regained their limbs.
The effect was so sudden that many couldn't even react.
But one thing was clear.
The battle had now been seized by a hopeful change.
With renewed strength, the mercenaries launched themselves at the horde.
Huo-Huo, feeling power coursing through his body, charged at the queen with terrifying violence.
Yet despite the improvement, the beast still held the advantage.
Even as they managed to force the troop back, Han-Lee could not ignore one small detail.
Fungi was nowhere to be seen.
He hadn't shown up.
Something was not right.
Without hesitation, Han-Lee signaled with his broken sword to Huo-Huo.
They exchanged no words.
Huo-Huo understood immediately.
Han-Lee withdrew from the battlefield.
He moved stealthily toward the wagons.
Dodging bodies and debris, he reached the interior of the caravan.
Inside, the atmosphere was somber.
The sounds of battle were muffled by the closed space.
The air was thick.
Then…
From the shadows, something moved.
A water serpent emerged from the darkness, lunging at his throat.
Instinctively, Han-Lee evaded.
But the moment the serpent struck the ground, it exploded violently.
The water, twisting in the air, formed a trap of liquid roots.
Han-Lee had no time to react.
Before he could move, a dagger flew directly toward his neck.
He barely managed to dodge it.
He froze.
His eyes locked onto the darkness.
And with a wry smile, he gripped the hilt of his broken sword tightly.
He already knew—trusting Fungi had never been a good idea.
Han-Lee clutched his broken sword and aimed forward, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
"I knew trusting you was never a good idea."
A voice slid through the shadows, laden with indifference:
"Is that how you treat your healer? How dare you."
Han-Lee let out a dry laugh.
"Let me guess… you waited until the battle reached its critical point to heal us at the last moment. You left us to handle the troop while you planned a quick getaway."
Fungi made no attempt to deny it.
"Simply put, the opportunity presented itself. Think what you want, but in this situation… who wouldn't do the same?" He paused, his tone growing even colder. "I don't plan to stay here. If I must use my services, I will—but accompanying you all to the end… that's another matter."
Han-Lee's smile widened briefly, then his gaze hardened.
"Well, what a brazen attitude… I must admit, it's cold but logical. Although, I regret to say, this mess won't move… not without the owner reciting the key words."
Fungi showed no concern.
"I have my own ways to make this work."
But the truth was he had none.
His entire plan depended on the caravan's leader panicking and trying to escape. At that moment, he would kill him and steal his soul. If that failed, he would simply flee alone, relying on his ability to detect predators through his soul sense.
Han-Lee tilted his head slightly.
"So, what do you intend to do now? Kill me? Or will you warn the others?"
Before Fungi could answer, Han-Lee shook his head.
"It wouldn't make sense to kill you. If I don't kill you, the beasts will, once they finish off the rest. And if you try to run on foot, you'd have to cover many more hours… assuming you survive."
He paused, studying him.
"I would offer to work with you for a chance at survival… but I don't think that's what you're after."
Fungi was silent for an instant, then responded coolly:
"You're right. But what if I make you an offer?"
His tone became almost casual, as if discussing a simple barter.
"Bring me the caravan's owner. It doesn't matter what state he's in—as long as he's alive. In exchange… I'll get you out of here."
Han-Lee let his smile fade. He didn't care about betraying anyone; at the end of the day, everyone sold out to the highest bidder. Still… he wouldn't surrender so easily.
"And how can I be sure you won't betray me once you have what you want?"
Fungi shrugged, his face hidden in the shadows.
"I'm a liar by nature. But when it comes to gaining benefits, why would I betray my own useful tools?"
Han-Lee narrowed his eyes, his expression bitter.
"You're a real scoundrel, you know that?"
Fungi let out a light laugh.
"Of course I am. But tell me… what options do you have? Will you bring me the owner or not?"
Han-Lee exhaled with disgust, then slowly turned back toward the battle.
The caravan's owner, Shell of Rage, was still struggling to maintain his position inside the wagons.
Han-Lee made his way through the chaos, dodging destruction until he reached him.
It wasn't long before he began to whisper words of persuasion.
He spoke calmly, showing the only possible escape: abandon the fight and escape with your life.
At first, Shell of Rage reacted in anger.
How could he suggest such a thing?
But as Han-Lee's words sank in, his expression changed.
He looked over the battlefield.
The monkey queen still stood.
Huo-Huo could barely keep her at bay. If it weren't for his robust physique—reminiscent of a venerable—the queen wouldn't have lasted more than a few blows.
And then there was the stench of blood…
That pervasive odor would attract even more beasts.
They were not close to victory.
They might win… but not quickly.
And in that time, how many more would die?
Was it worth sacrificing the entire group just for this caravan?
Shell of Rage decided quickly.
No.
Survival was paramount.
With a bitter sigh, he agreed to Han-Lee's proposal.
But before moving, Han-Lee demanded the owner's sword.
Shell of Rage hesitated. He didn't want to be left weaponless.
Yet he understood that Han-Lee needed a sword to kill.
Resigned, he handed it over.
Without wasting time, the caravan's leader moved to the main wagon to modify the mobility spell, unaware of what awaited him.
Han-Lee, now armed with an enchanted sword, returned to the battlefield.
He became a whirlwind of steel—cutting and slashing everything in his path—cutting his way through the troop until he reached Huo-Huo.
Huo-Huo, who could barely remain standing, continued fighting.
Han-Lee gave him a brief respite, holding back and bleeding the monkey queen.
In the midst of combat, without stopping his movement, Huo-Huo asked a question:
"What did you say to Master Fungi?"
Han-Lee replied without delay:
"We left the others to their fate. We're leaving."
He expected Huo-Huo to disagree.
After all, he was in charge of the caravan; he had led the mercenaries.
But he was wrong.
Huo-Huo said nothing—no words. He simply nodded.
Emotionlessly. Without hesitation.
That surprised Han-Lee.
He expected some resistance, perhaps even an attempt to rescue some of their own.
But no.
Huo-Huo had no intention of risking his life.
He was a mercenary—there was no honor or loyalty for him. Only survival.
After clarifying the situation, the two men once again charged at the queen.
With renewed strength, they attacked her relentlessly.
The massive, blood-soaked orangutan roared in fury.
She had no intention of yielding.
Despite her injuries.
Despite Han-Lee's relentless cuts.
She continued fighting.
Meanwhile, the other mercenaries kept resisting the horde.
Beasts continued to appear.
Even new species began joining the fray.
Bodies fell. The ground was soaked in blood.
Everyone was on the brink of collapse.
Then…
A sound, a movement, accompanied by a familiar voice, echoed throughout the field.
"— It's ready!"
Everyone turned toward the source of the voice.
It was Fungi.
Standing at the entrance of the main caravan, for a moment, everyone felt relieved—they believed it was another restoration spell.
But then… they saw it. The caravan… was moving. Han-Lee and Huo-Huo were running toward it.
And, even worse…
The sound of Huo-Huo's arrows whistled through the air, striking critical points on the mountain with precision.
For a moment, everything seemed to freeze.
Then the rumble began.
The rocks trembled, the earth gave way, and an avalanche of stone and dust descended like an unstoppable wave.
The mercenaries on the ground looked up, their eyes reflecting horror and desperation. They understood what was coming.
"— WAIT, YOU BASTARDS! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?"
The first shout was one of rage.
"— DAMN YOU! LEAVE US TO OUR FATE!"
The second, of disbelief.
"— HEARTLESS TRAITORS!"
Soon, pleas followed.
"— TAKE ME WITH YOU, YOU ASSHOLES!"
And curses too.
"— YOU VILE DEMONS, MY CORPSE WILL HAUNT YOU TO DEATH!"
Some tried to run toward the moving caravan.
But it was too late.
Han-Lee and Huo-Huo did not turn back. They did not respond. There was nothing left to say.
The beasts, realizing their prey was retreating, roared with renewed fury.
Chaos ensued.
The few remaining mercenaries tried to fight, but with no escape route, the battle made no sense.
The collapse engulfed them.
The clamor was deafening, dust rose in a dense cloud covering everything.
One by one, the cries died away, until… silence remained.
The echo of the impact faded into the distance.
The wind blew, carrying away the last vestiges of the devastation.
The caravan trembled slightly, yet continued its course without interruption.
Fungi, still standing at the entrance, observed the scene with indifference.
His gaze swept over the slowly dissipating curtain of dust on the horizon.
Then, with a faint smile, he raised a hand in a farewell gesture.
"I doubt there's anything left of you... but at least I'm glad you served to keep me alive."
With nothing more to be done outside, Fungi turned and entered the main room.
There was no longer any sense in watching.
Only the sound of the wind stirring the dust and the distant echo of the collapse remained.
Inside, the space was larger than it appeared from the outside. It wasn't luxurious, but it was functional.
Maps and documents lay scattered on the floor after the tremor, yet remained in relative order. A leather chair sat in the corner next to a sturdy table where the caravan's owner usually worked.
But the owner was gone.
Fungi scanned the room with indifference.
It wasn't long before he sensed the tension in the air.
To his right, Han-Lee stood with one hand resting on the wall, breathing deeply.
To his left, Huo-Huo, in complete silence, stared at him intently.
Both wore expressions of caution.
Fungi smiled and shrugged.
"Relax. I mean you no harm."
Huo-Huo was the first to reply, his voice void of emotion:
"For now."
Han-Lee let out a brief laugh and seated himself atop a supply box.
"I suppose it goes without saying that you're not a real Water Path healer, right?"
Leaning in slightly with a half-smile, he continued, "But I guess that no longer matters. I only want to know… what did you do with the owner?"
Fungi didn't answer immediately. Instead, he approached a wooden closet and calmly opened it.
Han-Lee immediately stood up, ready for any surprises.
Inside, among a few blankets, lay a ring.
Han-Lee took it and observed it silently. It was Shell of Rage's ring.
But there was no sign of the man.
Until he looked closer.
Beneath the blankets… was something else.
A tangled mess of unrecognizable meat.
Han-Lee said nothing. He simply put the ring in his pocket and closed the closet door.
His expression had darkened.
Fungi watched him silently before speaking firmly:
"Let's clear a few things up."
He stepped forward and addressed both mercenaries:
"First… whoever dares ask me about my identity will end up like that old man."
His tone was devoid of emotion. It wasn't a threat, it was a certainty.
"Second… when we reach the camp, I'm the leader of the caravan, and when we depart, I will remain a master of water."
He paused and raised an eyebrow.
"Zero questions about my path. Understood?"
Han-Lee and Huo-Huo exchanged glances and then silently nodded.
Fungi smiled with satisfaction.
"Very well."
He approached them and, with a swift motion, pressed both palms against their chests.
A surge of energy coursed through their bodies.
Their wounds vanished within seconds.
Yet… the fatigue persisted.
Han-Lee frowned at the effect.
Fungi stepped back and lazily stretched his arms.
"Rest."
He turned and walked toward the table, ignoring them completely.
"We still have a long way ahead."
Han-Lee and Huo-Huo remained silent, watching Fungi.
They no longer trusted him much.
But at that moment… they had no other option.