The kingdom's mycelium now reached to both of the ends of the newly built wall. It touched the mountains on either side.

  It had been about two weeks since Kira and Benoit went back to the old world. Mafu had talked with Benoit quite a bit to make sure that he knew what not to do.

  His instructions were otherwise very vague, as Mafu trusted Benoit to decide for himself what was the right action. Benoit was one of the most intelligent people Mafu had met since he got to this world.

  If he had not been trained as an assassin, he would have made a great politician. He was intelligent in a sly way, always thinking of what advantages and disadvantages a problem or opportunity afforded him.

  But in general, his main mission was to free slaves and humans who wanted to flee Dolorans' world and bring them to the portal. For that, both Benoit and Mafu had assumed that he would need to set up an organization.

  Mafu did not have much to trade, truly. And Benoit would need money to create an organization of the proper scale to start a true rescue mission.

  So Mafu had ordered the workshops to start making items that both looked better and were of better quality. The blacksmiths would also make everyday tools for the kitchen and for different professions.

  If they could start a company of peddlers and sell items from this world in the old world and then use the money to free slaves, it would be optimal.

  However, the workshops had not had enough time to be able to make great items yet. The ones furthest ahead on their journey were the blacksmiths.

  With the addition of the dwarves, the smithy had expanded, and another had been built not far from the first one.

  Tenia and Akro were now in charge of one smithy each. Many of the dwarves were higher-level blacksmiths, but Mafu trusted Tenia and Akro more and thought it unnecessary to replace them.

  The dwarves were okay with it, as long as they got to do what they were best at. Most of them went to Akros smithy, as that was the smithy that focused on weaponry and armor. The dwarves were used to smithing weapons and armor.

  Some, however, saw the value in the research Tenia was undertaking in making better tools, rivets, nails, and rebar. Tenia was trying out new designs every day, and some dwarves liked the explorative spirit in her smithy.

  Yet, neither Akro nor Tenia had a product that was ready to be sold in bulk.

  In a month, the first delivery of products would be shipped to the portal. Mafu was worried if he could gather enough products so that Benoit could progress.

  In the middle of these thoughts, Mafu was interrupted.

  It was as if a gentle, warm blanket had been laid across his mind. No, across the entire mycelium network. It overpowered him, made him lose all thoughts, and just stare into the nothingness.

  He was completely incapacitated. He could not even contact or feel Jod.

  The very thought of fighting against this... influence seemed ridiculous to Mafu.

  It was as if he was carrying the entire world.

  "Interesting." A deep voice said, in a calm and amused way.

  And then the pressure ended. In a few seconds, everything was normal again.

  Mafu inspected every part of the territory, and Jod patrolled with the warriors trying to figure out what had just happened.

  Jod had been similarly incapacitated like Mafu and felt the exact same thing. They were both very anxious about finding out who had just caught them unaware.

  And they were both terrified that it might be an enemy.

  They had not felt like an enemy, but thinking back to the calm and deep voice, it did not feel as calm as they had first thought it. It was strange.

  The dwarves had no idea what it was either.

  Mafu kept his senses and lookouts on full alert for the time being. Even if the Hollow were gone, there might be a similarly powerful enemy. Or maybe someone more powerful.

  ---

  Kira and Benoit going through the portal.

  "You will have to wait until I come back." Benoit said. It was an order, but Kira did not accept it.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "No. I will follow." She responded.

  "If you do not follow my orders, I will go by myself. I will take you back to the town and leave you there." Benoit had raised his eyebrows. Kira did not often disobey him.

  She looked at him with angry eyes but eventually relented and sat down in front of the portal.

  Benoit nodded and readied his weapons. He had refilled his cache of poisons at Mafu's poison garden. He had different knives all bathed in different poisons, and some with none on them.

  He made sure his garrote was whole and not tangled in his belt. He had spent many days at the smithy and the tannery workshop, making sure the equipment for him and Kira was in acceptable shape.

  When he had come to this world, there had been a camp of soldiers on the other side. He expected there to be either more soldiers or none at all over there now.

  Those were the only two correct responses to him killing a few of the guards last time.

  In the worst case, one of the "titles" would be over there. "Faithful," "Everburning," "Unstoppable." Those were the ones he would have issues with.

  He doubted that "Faithful" would leave the capital. And "Unstoppable" was prone to disobeying any order he could disobey.

  Benoit was happy about that. He could maybe kill "Faithful," but "Unstoppable" had earned his title. If he were on the other side, Benoit would have a hard time even escaping.

  "Everburning" was also risky, but Benoit thought he could handle him. A pyromancer that was constantly on fire. His skin was charcoal, and his eyes were hollow in his skull, replaced by flames.

  He was barely human anymore, but he still had some weaknesses, according to Louis, Benoit's father. He was not weak to poisons, as most of them would simply burn before they had any effect. If you put enough metal inside of him, though, it would poison him.

  Metal carried its own poison, in a way. Any knives he could lodge in "Everburning" would automatically melt in the wound. This would then circulate the molten metal in his veins.

  Benoit took a few deep breaths, calming himself. He entered the assassin's cold and calculated state. No sound was made where he walked, and no breath was heard.

  He slowly entered the portal.

  It was the same feeling, the feeling of being washed in cold water as another world was pulled to him.

  As he exited the portal, he quickly used his stealth skills to move to the side. Arrows landed in the spot he had stood a second ago.

  He inspected the camp and realized they had moved the camp from the portal. No guards were at the portal, but the portal was encircled by the camp now. Archers stood in many watchtowers, looking at the portal.

  Benoit heard an order from one of the watchtowers. "Fire randomly."

  Arrows started flying from every direction, landing in random spots. Benoit easily dodged the arrows that were close to him. His stealth never failed, never even flickered.

  He inspected the walls, made of wood. He studied the watchtowers, also made of wood. He estimated the number of soldiers that would be in the camp.

  200. Fuck.

  Benoit slipped back to the portal and went back to the new world.

  He would need the army to push through. He could have handled anywhere up to 50 soldiers. It would have been rough, but he could've done it.

  200 would be a suicide mission.

  When he came back, he and Kira walked back to the town. Benoit filled her in on what the situation was like. It did not take them long to get back, and since Mafu and Benoit both had suspected the camp would be larger this time, the army was already ready.

  They waited for the next morning and then set out again. The orcs were, as usual, in a great mood. They always brought a happy, excited mood to any battle.

  Benoit had a hard time understanding a warrior's mind. It seemed borderline suicidal to him to look forward to battles.

  For Benoit, killing and battles were necessary acts to further one's own goals. But for the orc warriors in particular, and the dwarven warriors to a lesser extent, battles were a moment they sought out for the battle itself.

  He walked silently beside Parek, who was the leader of the expedition. Parek never showed any emotion about battles. His face was that of a stone mask, calm and imposing.

  Benoit had some respect for the orc warchief, now turned duke. Parek was ruthless in training his warriors. He truly put them through training that would kill a human warrior.

  But he always did it with his warriors. He never stood by the side. If he asked them to lift something truly heavy an absurd amount of times, he was the first to accomplish it.

  If he told them to run at full speed until they collapsed, he would run at the front.

  In battles, he was always ready to fight at the front lines.

  Benoit was subconsciously comparing him to the human nobles he knew of, and even the nobles who were of a warrior lineage would never be like Parek.

  The portal was soon in view, and the strategy had already been discussed.

  So all that was left was to travel through it.

  The first ones through were the dwarves with their plate armor and heavy shields. Second was Parek and his elite orc warriors. The rest of the orcs followed after.

  Benoit had followed Parek, already in stealth.

  As Benoit arrived at the other side, the rain of arrows was unceasing. Yet not a single dwarf had been hit by an arrow.

  Benoit looked to the side and saw Oran drawing his massive bow. The sound it made was insane. The crackling of the bowstring put under incredible strain was like a scream.

  As the arrow flew, it ripped the air into a stream behind it. It hit the side of a watchtower, and it was as if an invisible beast had taken a bite out of the watchtower.

  Half of it was simply missing. The tower soon started falling over, making a horrible, creaking sound.

  For a moment, no arrows rained down on them. All the human soldiers were looking at Oran in awe. Some quickly regained their sanity and tried focusing their fire on Oran.

  But the dwarves were already there, raising their shields as Oran knelt behind them.

  Parek gave the order to throw the grenades.

  These were new grenades, filled with the dehydrated lava slime fluid. It was larger, and the steel casing fully enclosed it.

  It was a better version of the previous grenade, without the nails and metal scraps inside of it.

  It had a different purpose after all. To blast apart fortifications, not flesh.

  It worked to a horrifying degree. It ripped apart walls and watchtowers alike, as if they were made of parchment.

  Parek and his warriors started running even before the bombs had exploded, and as the smoldering wood fell down, they were jumping through the breaches.

  The human soldiers, disoriented by the explosions, were easy prey.

  The whole battle took no more than ten minutes.

  Benoit looked on what had been a fortified camp not long ago and realized that the Amanita kingdom might soon stand a fighting chance against the empire.

  Now, it was just up to him to complete his missions, and that day might come sooner rather than later.