692. The Beginning of the Fall

Late at night, several bats transformed from members of the Blood Clan circled in the sky over the Northern Territory.

They flew very high, high enough that the Magic Cannons had trouble hitting them.

They kept well spread out, spread far enough that if enemies came after them, they could split up and flee in several directions in time.

The wind howled.

From below, a sound drifted up.

At first it was very faint, like the whimper of the night wind passing through a valley, but if one listened closely, it was not the wind.

Puji, puji, puji, puji—

Orderly, endless—the sound of thousands upon thousands of Pujis stepping across the frozen earth.

Under the moonlight, countless Pujis formed one vast square formation after another, stretching on without end all the way to the edge of the Blood Clan's vision, merging with the night.

The Pujis did not march quickly, but their advantage was that they could keep going day and night.

Just like now, the Puji Masters worked in shifts through day and night, and when they rested, they lay inside the bellies of Fatty Pujis controlled by other Puji Masters.

The bodies of these Fatty Pujis were hollow, like little houses on the move.

The Puji Masters curled up inside, warm and comfortable, listening to the faint puji sounds outside as they slept soundly.

Then the Puji Masters gave the simplest follow command to the Pujis under them, allowing them to get adequate rest even while on the march.

The bats circled once more and roughly made out the number of Pujis.

It was not that this Vanguard Army had failed to notice the bats overhead, but the Empire's scouts had grown smarter now.

They knew how formidable the Fungal Carpet was, and they knew what landing on