Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 317: Chapter 234: Disease-Resistant Shiitake _2

Anyone with a basic understanding of structural biology would know that a simple fungal structure, like that of ordinary mushrooms, couldn’t support such a massive size. Just as mere muscles can’t enable a person to stand—requiring skeletal support, lest they be as limp as a boneless slab of pork—these giant fungi needed something more.

Paracelsus, curious about its internal structure, drew her Short Sword. She stabbed it into the mushroom, ready to dissect it; clearly, she had a busy time ahead of her.

”Wang Cai, you stay with her and keep an eye on our surroundings,” Lance instructed, leaving Wang Cai to protect Paracelsus while he and Grendel headed towards the herb field.

The herbs that the Witch had left behind and carefully cultivated were generally rarer varieties found in the wilderness. Unfortunately, after just a few days without care, the fungi had begun to spread. They would likely reach the herb field within three days and completely consume it within ten. Even though the Witch was deceased, the corruption she left behind continued to poison the wilderness. Action had to be taken quickly, or the corruption would keep expanding.

Lance wasn’t very familiar with these herbs, but Grendel knew them well. She could recognize any plant at a glance, making Lance realize that some tasks truly required a professional.

”What difficulties would there be if I wanted to transplant these herbs?”

”It would be very difficult. I expect many of these plants would have a survival rate of less than half if moved.”

Grendel didn’t know Lance planned to burn the area, so she naturally wondered why he would suddenly want to move the herbs.

”That’s enough,” Lance said, though the pain was evident on his face—after all, these were his assets.

However, the thought that his ancestor might exploit the situation if he didn’t act decisively made the pain of the loss instantly vanish. Seeing his ancestor profit would be more agonizing than suffering the loss himself; he would rather burn it all to the ground.

”Harvest what we need, then we’ll transplant some of the most precious ones first.”

Lance used the opportunity of helping harvest the herbs to learn, and Grendel, sensing his interest, generously shared her knowledge without reservation.

”This plant we call Bloody Poison Grass. It looks like a common weed, but its distinguishing feature is the bright red bud in the center of its flowers. The base of the petals is white, while the tips look as if they’ve been stained with blood.”

”The warriors of the Barbarian Tribes would harvest the flowers and process them into a bright red liquid to coat their weapons for hunting. When a weapon coated with it strikes prey, the wound bleeds continuously until the animal dies. However, boiling the liquid renders it ineffective.”

”...This plant’s liquid is highly toxic and corrosive. It’s not used for hunting because it would make the game inedible; it’s only used against enemies. The Witch used it when brewing her corrosive potions...”

After touring the herb fields and listening to Grendel’s explanations, Lance began to understand their immense value. He also discovered just how interesting the plants in this world could be. Perhaps it was because Lance had little understanding of plants and herbs in his past life that he was only now forced to engage with them.

The necessary herbs were quickly harvested. With them in hand, Grendel felt confident she could treat the plague. Yet, she couldn’t help stealing glances at the man observing and taking notes by the herb field. She still remembered their agreement, and the time for her decision was drawing ever closer...

”Hey! You guys, come over here!” Paracelsus’s voice called from afar, interrupting Grendel’s thoughts. Instinctively gripping her Magic Wand, Grendel cautiously surveyed her surroundings, her right hand already retreating into her sleeve.

”It’s okay.” Lance’s soothing voice reached her. Grendel turned to see him standing up. An inexplicable sense of safety washed over her, as if nothing could harm her while he was near.

Grendel furrowed her brow, realizing her perception of him was changing.

When did it start?

”I’ll go see what’s happening,” Lance said nonchalantly, his words meant to reassure, then headed towards Paracelsus. Grendel suppressed her thoughts and hurried after him.

”Look at this.” Paracelsus, without preamble, pointed to a small area beneath the giant mushroom’s cap. It was a spot one would easily miss without a thorough investigation.

Upon seeing it, Lance understood her surprise. In this fungus-infested place, a small patch of land had remained untouched by the corruption. Such anomalies usually indicated interesting discoveries.

Lance’s gaze immediately locked onto a cluster of mushrooms in the center of that area. Indeed, there were mushrooms here too, but these had a rather unique shape. Their caps were pointed, like half-closed umbrellas, and their stems were slim, tinged with a faint light green. These peculiar mushrooms were of a normal size, contrasting starkly with the surrounding colossal fungi, the smallest of which were as thick as an arm.

Lance had cut through many parasitic fungi on their journey. Those usually had yellow caps and white stems, or red caps, all shaped like open, rounded umbrellas. He had never seen such peculiar mushrooms before and sensed their appearance must signify something important.

Without further ado, Lance told the two women to step back, drew his greatsword, and in a few swift strokes, chopped down the giant mushrooms encircling the patch. Indeed, on the cut surfaces, Lance could still see the eroded remnants of tree trunks, confirming that these giant mushrooms had once been trees.

Only after the cloud of spores dispersed did Lance and the others approach the small, untainted area.

”A scent?” Lance murmured as he crouched down. He seemed to detect something, and raising a hand to gently waft the air above the special mushrooms, he twitched his nostrils. A faint, delicate aroma entered his nasal cavity.

The parasitic mushrooms they had encountered previously were considered tolerable if they merely didn’t stink, let alone emit a pleasant fragrance. This discovery made Lance even more certain of these new mushrooms’ extraordinary nature, prompting him to turn and ask, ”Miss Grendel, do you recognize this type of fungus?”

Paracelsus, wearing her Beak Mask, couldn’t smell it, but Grendel had also detected the fragrance. She had been familiarizing herself with the plants of the Mountains since childhood, but faced with his question, she slowly shook her head. ”I have never seen similar mushrooms in the Mountains.”

Even the expert was stumped, which further suggested this type of Disease-Resistant Shiitake was no ordinary find. After a moment of thought, Lance voiced his opinion. ”These giant mushrooms were cultivated by the Witch using witchcraft; they would devour anything. And these Disease-Resistant Shiitakes, just such a small cluster, had managed to resist the fungal encroachment. Based on this, this type of Disease-Resistant Shiitake might have been naturally selected, inherently possessing anti-pathogenic properties. The only question is how they specifically affect humans and whether they might cause other illnesses.”

The fact that nature could produce something capable of neutralizing even a plague engineered by the Witch’s witchcraft spoke volumes of its miraculous power.

Paracelsus found this intensely interesting. She was the first to be exposed to the modern medical logic Lance introduced. She knew her inability to cure the plague stemmed from the difficulty of observing pathogens at a microscopic level, given the limitations of current knowledge and tools. Furthermore, Lance hadn’t allowed her to attempt aggressive treatment methods, which naturally contributed to her superficial understanding of the plague.

But what if a cure could be extracted from these readily available Disease-Resistant Shiitakes? Could it then be used to treat the soldiers?

She was certainly resentful of this mysterious woman from the Barbarian Tribes who had appeared out of nowhere. Yet, the woman’s ability to control the disease’s progression was an undeniable fact, leaving Paracelsus caught in a frustrating conflict between her pride and reality.

In truth, it was a combination of youthful pride and the ingrained Imperial People’s sense of superiority towards the Barbarian Tribes. Encountering a member of the Barbarian Tribes more skilled than herself had triggered a profound sense of crisis. Geniuses, after all, often have their quirks.

The discovery of these Disease-Resistant Shiitakes ignited a spark of hope in her. It was a chance to prove that she, too, could treat the blight—that she couldn’t possibly be inferior to these people from the Barbarian Tribes!

Lance knew what was going through her mind. He was pleased to see this competitive spirit, but dealing with these Disease-Resistant Shiitakes was the more pressing matter.

”Mission complete. Let’s head back now.”

Grendel had gathered the herbs she needed, Paracelsus had obtained the samples she desired, and Lance had roughly determined the extent of the corrupted area.

All in all, this expedition was a success.