Chapter 408: Cordyceps (6)
—Chwarrr.
As the golden mist began to rise, the Locust King's wingbeats echoed through it—each one carrying a strange, mournful tone as it spread through the valley.
Cho didn’t translate, which meant there was no specific meaning behind the sounds. But in my ears, they felt like a sorrowful funeral dirge.
The yellow mist curling up like incense, the rhythm of the Locust King’s wings—it all felt like a ritual farewell.
It made sense.
Anyone caught in that golden fog would certainly die.
If it were poison, there might at least be an antidote. But this wasn’t a toxin. It was a fungal spore, born of the Locust King and part of a symbiotic relationship.
If the Locust King didn’t save them himself, then the spores would take root and kill the hosts—growing mushrooms inside their still-living bodies.
And yet, even surrounded by death’s fog, the swarm didn’t stop eating.
Within that cloud of spores, the locusts continued tearing at each other—biting wings and torsos.
Whenever body fluid spilled, it was like a dinner bell. Dozens, even hundreds of them swarmed the injured one, ripping it apart.
Then more fell, and the madness spread like a wave.