Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1418 Will the Curse Never Die?
According to Cheryl's recounted legend, after the celestial warship Nibelungen crashed to the earth, the Holy Grail split in two, losing its magical power to grant wishes. Cheryl believed that reuniting the fairy sword Hydras with the Nibelungen would restore that power and turn the tide of battle. However, according to Elder Momogu, at least three thousand years ago, the Nibelungen still retained a portion of the Holy Grail's power. Was it the fairy power still at work, or was it the Mushroom Tribe's unintentional act of piety that provided it with an excessive amount of faith, resulting in an effect similar to the conception of a deity?

Ling leans towards the latter, a more reasonable explanation, but one question remains: is the power of faith of the Mushroom Tribe enough to give birth to a conceptual god comparable to Alexander the Great, or even to endow Him with the power to grant wishes? And if it is the residual fairy power at work, why did Sidras not exhibit similar properties?
Until Ovira whispered to him, "Perhaps it's the power of an evil god."

Linger then realized that, in essence, while the Holy Grail's ability to grant wishes originated from magical fairy magic, it was truly created by the evil god who had bewitched the king and lured him into blood sacrifices. It was this evil god's power that controlled the Holy Grail, which is why wishes were distorted and desecrated. After the fairy sword Hydras separated from the Holy Grail, the fairies of Assyria, the land of paradise, used the tears of a goddess to wash away its impurity and filth, thus preventing the same fate.

While the loss of the power to grant wishes is undeniably regrettable, the fairies know that no gift in this world comes without a price, especially not from a terrifying evil god. The Atorica people have proven this through their blood and tears over countless ages, and the mushroom people from the depths of the abyss three thousand years ago were also its victims.

“As the proverb of the earthlings says, every gift of fate comes with a price.” Elder Momogu’s voice grew even lower, as if carrying the pain that his people had endured for thousands of years. “There is never a gift without a price, especially since we are merely prisoners of the Ark. It has silently etched a curse into our blood and souls, and beneath the surface of prosperity, the seeds of corruption have already been sown.”

"The first abnormality occurred on our bodies," the elder said, pointing to his grayish-white cap. "If you know anything about mushroom people, you should know that we originally had plump, healthy, brownish-red caps, a symbol of our affinity with nature and our favor from the earth. But when we turned our backs on nature's teachings and abandoned the earth's bounty, they began to lose their luster, revealing a mottled white like lifeless ashes. At first, there were only a few scattered spots, which we attributed to our inability to adapt to the local environment and didn't think much of it. But soon, the disease our ancestors called cyanosis spread uncontrollably. Not only did the caps completely turn grayish-white, but the stems and even the internal organs began to become fragile and brittle, like dried-out mud."

The old mushroom man's words seemed to freeze the air in the room, and everyone could imagine the terrifying scene of life force being drained from the inside and the body gradually decaying.

“The physical ailments are secondary; what’s more terrifying is the resulting distortion of our habits,” Momogu continued, his voice filled with indescribable sorrow. “The mushroom people have lived in symbiosis with fungi since ancient times, cultivating, harvesting, and revering the cycle of nature, from which they also derive the power to reproduce. But from some point onward, the people lost interest in the fungi they once depended on for survival, and instead became fanatically obsessed with the minerals they found near the wreckage of the Ark. It was a morbid fanaticism, as if the natural principles passed down from ancient times had been abandoned, and only cold, hard stones were the sole meaning of our existence.”

"We began frantically mining and collecting all kinds of ores, and even gradually gained the ability to use the strange energy in the minerals to modify the environment. This did make us stronger in the short term, able to dispel darkness, warm caves, and forge sharper weapons... But at the same time, we sadly discovered that the tribe could no longer live without these minerals. Every member of the tribe infected with ash disease needed to constantly absorb the energy emitted by the ores to maintain their life activities, just as plants need sunlight and fish need water."

"In the end, it is reason and temperament that collapse." The elder's voice trembled slightly. "The more severe the ash disease, the more eccentric and violent the personality becomes. They become extremely aggressive, not only rejecting all outsiders, but even regarding their own kin as enemies. The warmth and mutual assistance of the past have vanished, replaced by endless suspicion, quarrels, and even... self-destruction and fratricide. The once united Mushroom Force tribe has fallen into bloody internal strife and conflict, and the prosperity that our ancestors dreamed of has been burned away in madness."

“My grandfather, one of the few elders in the tribe who remained lucid at the time, witnessed all of this. He understood that the tribe had been completely corrupted by the curse of the Ark, and that staying here would only lead to the entire tribe going mad and perishing. So he made a painful decision—to lead a group of tribesmen who had not yet completely lost their minds to escape from that area that we once regarded as a land of hope, but which was in fact a prison of despair, and to escape as far away as possible, as quickly as possible.”

Elder Momogu sighed deeply, a sigh that seemed to come from sedimentary rocks thousands of years underground. "Unfortunately, the curse has already seeped into our blood. Even if we escape the source, our offspring will still be unable to escape the shadow of ash disease, only the timing and severity of its onset will differ. Thus, we, who were once fellow mushroom people, have forever become the ash mushroom people in the eyes of the world, neither recognized nor accepted by our own kind, nor deeply feared and rejected by other alien races from the abyss, and are forced to forever walk the path of wandering and migration."

"While fleeing persecution from the outside world, we searched for minerals to sustain our lives. Yet, the more we wandered, the more we migrated, the more we felt the disease still flowing in our veins, the cyanosis spreading through our bodies, the curse throbbing in our souls. On our farthest journey, we even risked everything to leave the abyss and live on the surface for a time, but ultimately we couldn't bear its call and returned, deciding to die there. It was like going around in circles, endlessly cycling. I never dared mention these past events to my people, but I had a vague premonition in my heart—"

"Perhaps, the Mushroom Power Tribe will never be able to escape this curse."

After the story was told, a long silence fell over the room. The guests from the ground finally understood why mentioning this history was a taboo for the tribe. A race was twisted and alienated by an unseen force, gaining power while forever losing themselves. In the end, the tribe's young people would no longer know the origin of this wandering story, would not know that their love and even dependence on minerals was not an innate habit, and would not know that there were never any gray fungus people in the world, only fungus people suffering from ash disease.

The traces that Lin Ge and his group found in the arc-shaped corridor may have been left by the Mushroom Force Tribe during that period.

Elder Momogu's gaze slowly swept across the faces of the crowd, as if trying to etch each person's features into the depths of his memory, for they were clear evidence of the Mushroom Force Tribe's long-standing isolation from the world. His aged eyes, like dried fungal folds, trembled slightly, and his voice was low and deep: "Guests from afar, I have told you all the long-buried stories of the past, as a token of my sincerity. You pursue the Ark, perhaps for power, perhaps for legend, perhaps for some lofty ideal... but please hear me out: no purpose is worth such a great fall. Our tribe has spent three thousand years of wandering and suffering to barely gain a chance to survive. If you insist on going, I fear... you will follow in their footsteps."

His words contained no threat, only sincerity and earnestness. The dim light on the table illuminated his grayish-white cap, the mottled marks on it seemingly foreshadowing the end of this seemingly endless journey.

Ovira lowered her eyes slightly, her long eyelashes casting a soft shadow on her cheeks. She remained silent for a moment, seemingly processing the impact of this heavy history, or perhaps weighing the weight of the elder's words. When she raised her head again, there was no hesitation or retreat in her clear eyes. "Thank you for your advice, Elder Momogu." Her voice was clear and gentle, yet carried an unwavering strength. "We are well aware of the dangers ahead, and we understand the good intentions in your words. But just as your ancestors chose to venture into the Abyss to seek a way to change the fate of their people, we also have our reasons for going. People in this world strive in every way possible to find a path; now that we have found it, there is no turning back."

Everyone, including Ling Ge, nodded silently, expressing their support without a word.

The old mushroom man gazed intently at the people on the ground, his gaze seemingly piercing through the mists of time, revealing the figure of his equally stubborn ancestor from countless years ago. A very slight sigh escaped his throat, a deep sense that he was long past the age to be moved by passion and ideals. The long years had taught him to revere the capriciousness and unpredictability of fate, yet sometimes he was still awestruck by the choices people made in life, like watching a tiny mushroom cap sprout from a narrow crevice in the rocks—great, miraculous, incredible.

“…I understand.” After a long silence, he finally said, his voice carrying a hint of weary relief, “Since you have made up your minds, I’m afraid no matter what I say, you won’t listen, will you? It seems that you earthlings are not much different from the creatures of the earth; sometimes you are both so stubborn that it’s frightening.”

Ovira took it as a compliment and accepted it without hesitation.

"Whatever the outcome, it's our personal decision and has nothing to do with anyone else. So please tell us, Elder Momogu," she said earnestly, enunciating each word clearly, "the location where the Ark crashed."

He stretched out his short, stubby fingers and began to trace slow, precise lines on the table, the fingertips making a soft, rustling sound as they rubbed the surface. The room's light flowed with his movements, gradually outlining a simple yet clear map. Centered on their tribe, the map's directional lines meandered, pointing deeper into the darkness before finally coming to a stop.

"Pass through the shimmering woods where our tribe dwells, and follow this ancient path known as the Matte Path," the elder's voice was low and slow, each word carrying weight, "cross the Crystal Hills, and be careful to avoid the Light-Eating Beasts that roam that area. When you see the sky begin to turn an ominous dark red, and the air is filled with a stench like a mixture of death and decay, you are nearing it. At the center of that area lies a vast rift that seems to lead straight to the earth's core. The Ark... what you earthlings call Nibelungen, slumbers at the bottom of that rift. There should be no dangerous monsters in the rift, but times have changed. The power of the Ark has been constantly overflowing, reshaping the surrounding life and environment. Now, no one knows what it has become. Please be careful."

After explaining the route, Elder Momogu paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the undisguised fatigue on everyone's faces. Despite their efforts to hide it, the weariness left by the long journey was still evident, even for the energetic Leticia and Serena. Only the countess, who possessed only the strength of a demigod, remained relatively energetic.

“Night has fallen, and the long darkness is approaching. The outside environment will become even more dangerous.” His tone softened, carrying a kind of elder’s concern. “Now that the alliance has been established, you are all honored guests of the Mushroom Power Tribe. Please rest in the tribe tonight. I will have the tribesmen prepare some easy-to-preserve food and clean water for you as provisions for your journey. Although it is simple, it is a token of our goodwill, so please do not refuse.”

Ovira and her companions exchanged glances, then nodded to the elder in gratitude: "Thank you for your generosity and guidance, Elder Momogu. Please allow us to accept your kindness."

The old mushroom man nodded slightly and said nothing more. He summoned a young mushroom man who was guarding outside and whispered a few instructions. The young mushroom man curiously glanced at the people on the ground, then respectfully led them away from the mushroom house filled with ancient dust and heavy history.

Outside, the so-called "night" was merely a deeper, darker shadow created by the periodic dimming of the moss beneath the earth. Scattered throughout the village were minerals emitting a soft glow, like stars sleeping in the darkness. Ling and his group were led to an empty dwelling, its furnishings extremely simple: a few beds covered in dried moss and a stone basin filled with water. The young mushroom man placed down a few dark red minerals radiating a gentle warmth, bowed, and quietly withdrew.

As soon as he left, a long silence fell over the room.

No one spoke because they were still thinking about what to say to express their current feelings.

Give me some cats