Chapter 436 The King from a Thousand Years Ago

"You’re the Half-Elf!" Ron couldn’t help but retort. "I admit I’m not tall, but I’m not *that* short!"

"Have you ever seen a Half-Elf this tall?!"

Ron was of average height for an adult human male. The problem was that the being in front of him was a good two and a half meters tall! From his perspective, who *wasn’t* a shorty?

"My apologies," the giant was surprisingly reasonable. He shrank his body again, stopping when he was about half a head taller than Ron. "None of my subjects are here, so my sense of scale in that regard may be a bit off."

"Your subjects?" Ron’s expression softened as he looked at the other being with curiosity. His features did indeed resemble the giant’s corpse outside. Any dissimilarities, Ron was sure, could be attributed to a matter of scale.

"You must have seen me—my true body," the giant nodded. "And my subjects. They were in their Hibernation Pods when their lives came to a sorrowful end."

"And I... I am their king, the leader of the Delusional Plant People. I was stronger than them, fighting the invaders even in our most desperate hour! But the terror we faced far exceeded my strength. I fell in battle before my fallen kin."

"And you, a traveler from the distant future, you have, whether intentionally or not, come into contact with the remnants of my consciousness, preserved within all the fungi around us. I imagine you have been exploring our tomb for quite some time. Can you please tell me how much time has passed? Are there any survivors among my people, even just one or two, who have carried on the spark of our civilization?"

The grayish-green giant introduced himself before Ron could even ask. It sounded like he was indeed the giant from outside. He possessed not only a powerful body but also a resilient spirit. Ron suspected that they, much like the Mushroom People and Spore People, had an intricate connection with fungi. This connection was so profound that their non-sentient relatives could preserve their thoughts, and perhaps even their souls—if they had them.

"I’m very sorry, but we can’t determine the exact time either," Ron said, shaking his head. "However, based on the clues we have, we can deduce that nearly ten centuries have passed between our times. Before us, others have also come to your Revival Fortress."

"Ah, you know of the Revival Fortress!" The grayish-green giant’s face lit up with joy. "It was our proudest achievement! We believed it could withstand any foe! Of course, as it turns out, we were wrong."

"Is it still there? Does it still stand tall in the depths of the dense forest? Is it still fighting against the despicable Red Mould and the Spore People and Thorny Beasts born from them? Or has it decayed into nothing, leaving you unable to see even a trace of the Plant People’s former glory?"

"I suppose it’s somewhere in between," Ron said, choosing his words carefully. "The glory of the fortress remains, but it can no longer be seen by ordinary people. For some unknown reason, it sank underground. We had to find an entrance in a cave."

"Oh..." The giant’s mouth fell open, his wooden yet surprisingly expressive face forming a look of disappointment. "That is a true pity."

"Speaking of which, may I ask some questions about you and your people?" Ron decided he should be a bit more proactive. "First, what did you say your people were called again?"

Unless Ron was mishearing things, he was sure he had just heard the word ’delusional’.

"The Delusional Plant People," the grayish-green giant repeated. "I am our king. You can call me the Giant King, or you can call me Nu Hava. That is my name."

"I was our first king, but I fear... I am also the last."

Ron wasn’t sure if the king was giving a wry smile.

"Why are you called that?"

"It was the name given to us by our god," the giant’s face filled with reverence as he spoke. "Our Deity, the Curtain God, Scadrialium Er’Elion, created us—the sentient beings who flourished on this Delusional Land. We were born from the bodies of the Ancient Titans, inheriting their legacy to carry it forward and glorify it."

"..." After hearing the explanation, Ron was only more confused. "Wait, wait, wait, what did you just say? A Deity? The Curtain God?"

"Scadrialium Er’Elion," Nu Hava repeated the Deity’s name, his expression unchanging.

"Scad—" Ron gave up trying to repeat it. "Alright, can you just tell me what this Deity of yours does?"

"He is the Creator God!" Nu Hava started off with a bombshell. "He created the entire world on a curtain! You, me, even that detestable Red Mould! The Delusional Land is His proving ground for all of creation. He wrapped this place in another layer of curtain, to prevent His bold experiments from harming the outside world, or from being noticed by mortals who might disrupt His plans."

’This god sounds like a cloth merchant, what’s with all these curtains...’ Ron muttered under his breath. Nu Hava shot him a glare and continued.

"The Red Mould was His failed creation. The Spore People and Thorny Beasts are even more uncontrollable byproducts. His first children, the Ancient Titans, were killed by them. That is why we were made—the Delusional Plant People. The sole purpose of our creation by the Deity was to erase the Red Mould and its derivatives. We were devoted to our duty, but..."

The Giant King paused. "We failed the Deity’s trust... That Red Mould, is it still raging outside?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Ron said with a shrug. "If we weren’t here to eliminate it, we wouldn’t be here at all."

"We also saw that monster, the Thorny Beast you fought to the death. I’m a little curious, how did it invade your fortress? We didn’t see any signs of a breach on our way here."

"They didn’t charge in through the main gate. They used a much stealthier method," Nu Hava said grimly. "This could be a long story. I’ll try to keep it brief."

"To put it simply, we were initially achieving glorious victories in our fight against the Red Mould and its claws and teeth. But then, even I don’t know what went wrong. The situation suddenly took a nosedive. The climate changed drastically, large territories fell, and the hordes of Spore People and Thorny Beasts ran rampant. We had no choice but to avoid a direct confrontation and retreat into the Revival Fortress."

"It was the final barrier we constructed. The metal was mixed with substances harmful to the Red Mould, preventing it from getting close. We were meant to hibernate inside and wait for the Red Mould outside to become unable to reproduce. Then, we would reclaim everything that belongs to the Deity."

"But..." The Giant King’s face darkened. "There was a traitor among us."