The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin

At the side of the empty house in the woods, Liu Ji's freshly prepared table of food was still hot.

Rustle, rustle.

The bushes shook. Something was hiding within, concealed behind the leaves.

It seemed to be deliberately making noise, as if testing the waters. Perhaps it was worried that there might still be someone inside the house.

But evidently, such worries were superfluous. Since Liu Ji had followed the trio and left, all that remained was an empty house, the frozen half-corpse of a bear, and a table full of steaming dishes.

Rustle, rustle.

The bushes continued to shake, the noise got louder. Finally, having seemingly confirmed that there really was no one around, the noise at last stopped.

Then… a bunch of round, potato-like creatures—or rather, potato-people—burst out from the woods.

They were less than a meter tall, with noses and eyes, topped with green shoots, and thin limbs… or rather, roots that resembled limbs.

Due to their rounded shapes and thin limbs, their rolling and scrambling run seemed somewhat comical.

As soon as they burst out, the potato-people headed straight for the hot meals on the table, grabbing the food and broth in a scramble, smearing it on their hands, feet, or bodies. None of it went to their mouths.

However, if observed closely, the food and broth smeared on their bodies seemed to be slowly absorbed by their skin.

Perhaps, this was their unique way of eating?

While it looked messy and most would find it hard to accept, they actually managed to eat cleaner than humans; even the food that fell on the ground or the broth that dripped into the soil was completely absorbed by them.

As a result, after about a half-hour of frenzied activity, not one bit of the lavish spread was wasted—all of it was absorbed by the potato-people.

Then, seemingly having their fill and thoroughly satisfied, the bunch of potatoes rolled onto the grass in front of the wooden house, sprawling out joyfully.

Soon after, they began to dig holes right there.

A while later, the potato-people had buried themselves completely in the soil, leaving only their leafy shoots swaying in the wind.

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Under a seaberry tree in the barren desert, a squad clad in light-brown uniforms and orange capes stood around.

A scout wielding a curve dagger was perched on the tall seaberry tree, checking the branches above. Then, he grabbed a small broken branch and jumped down.

The branch, which should have been laden with seaberry fruits, was now bare, and the break was very fresh.

The squad members exchanged glances; though no words were spoken, they spread out and began digging in the nearby sand.

At first, they found nothing. But undeterred, they expanded the range and depth of the excavation.

However, they still found nothing. Yet, they remained unconcerned. Since this was the case, they expanded their scope once again.

Eventually, after relentless effort by these twelve, they uncovered a seaberry branch buried under the sand several hundred meters away from the seaberry tree.

The squad member with a casting staff stepped forward and picked up the dried-up branch. Then, his eyes widened.

A strange magical array flickered before him, and a faint aura emerged from the branch. This aura wavered slightly and slowly rose. He stared at the aura, holding his breath and watching intently.

A long time passed, but that aura remained unchanged. However, he was patient. Since there were no changes, he would continue to wait.

And wait.

And wait…

Finally, the aura swayed slightly in a certain direction, moving just a few millimeters.

This extremely subtle fluctuation did not escape his notice. He looked in that direction, where nothing but the vast desert stretched to the horizon, as if the slight movement had merely been an anomaly caused by the flow of air.

But he seemed to think otherwise. Or perhaps, he did not care.

They had been wandering in this desert for an indeterminate amount of time, and any piece of useful information, any vague direction that they could get a hint of, was like blood to a shark—they would pursue it relentlessly.

Thus, he extended a hand in that direction.

In the next moment, the entire squad moved in unison. Not a word was said, nor a glance exchanged, but all twelve started to trudge in the designated direction.

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Meanwhile, on the other side of the desert, another small group was tracking a faint trace that had led into the desert.

Only a short while ago, Mervant's disc had completely lost its faint link with Calidora. Unease from losing this link made Mervant distraught, but it was at that moment of disconnection that he successfully tracked a direction, a vague one.

For Mervant, this was like catching the glimpse light of a lighthouse while adrift in a vast and dark sea. If not for the last bit of rationality telling him that sprinting full force across the desert was tantamount to a death wish, he might have already dashed off in that direction.

Even now, his brisk pace had put a significant distance between him and the rest of his group.

Please be safe, Cali, he prayed continuously as he walked swiftly, deeper into the desert.