On the Cultivation Methods of Necromancy Mushrooms

"Servia, your strength has grown rapidly."

"Yes, all thanks to your guidance, Wizard."

[Your training of the hero reaches the conclusion of its first phase.]

[By continuously absorbing soulfire, Servia can naturally advance to the First Circle. For you, soulfire is the least scarce resource.]

[Your goal has been achieved.]

[Yet, gazing at the endless snowstorm, you decide to wait until spring before embarking on a new journey.]

[The biting blizzard, laced with the deathly aura of the Netherworld, severely obstructs your vision and hampers the efficiency of your detection spells.]

[You have no desire to save a little time at the cost of an unpleasant journey.]

[Snowflakes swirl, and cold winds howl.]

[Affected by the Undead Calamity, the snow that should be pure white instead settles in your palm with a faint, ashen hue.]

[You stand in the desolate outskirts, watching as the black sun hangs high in the sky, merging with the frigid celestial phenomena, casting an equal silence upon all things.]

[Winter has arrived, and the cold gnaws at the will of the people.]

[Resisting the onslaught of the undead is already arduous enough; fighting in such bitter weather is an even greater torment.]

[In the past, this nameless little city and the aging wizard trapped at the First-Circle boundary would lament the arrival of winter.]

[But this year is different.]

[Thanks to your relentless harvesting of soulfire and Servia’s combat training, the undead surrounding the city have remained at a manageable level.]

……

Laughter and cheers.

Tears of joy.

Even from a great distance, Xu Xi could hear the voices rising from the city.

The people were rejoicing, celebrating their imminent survival of the harsh winter, offering prayers to the gods, cheers to their lord, and reverence to the local wizard.

"It’s divine grace—it must be divine grace descending upon us!"

"Haha, no doubt about it, absolutely!"

"It’s been so long since we’ve had such a peaceful winter. I’ll drink three more cups to that!"

"Shut up, Wojin, you fool who doesn’t even know how many ways there are to write the word ‘wine’—the team’s commission money will be wasted on you!"

"Oh, damn it, if you keep this up, don’t blame me for kicking your fat ass with the pointiest boot I can find!"

Xu Xi stood outside the temporary workshop.

Silently observing the lively little city.

Snowflakes blew toward him, only to be deflected by the soul energy radiating from his body—a trait of a Second-Circle Wizard, capable of influencing reality with the soul.

In a sense, it could also be understood as a form of "Wizard’s Hand" that required no incantation.

"The Netherworld’s erosion of the Wizarding World is accelerating. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a cheerful atmosphere."

The faint glow of his soul seeped through his eyes,

forming an otherworldly perspective.

Xu Xi saw the city streets blanketed in snow, people laughing and chasing each other in celebration.

Winter was nearing its end, and a new year was approaching.

However,

the people of the Wizarding World had no tradition of celebrating the new year.

With vast lands and countless kingdoms, customs varied greatly. Only one festival was universally recognized across the continent.

The Winter Snow Festival.

The very reason for the city’s current jubilation.

"‘Praise the purity of the sky, give thanks for the snow’s cleansing’—that was the original meaning of the Winter Snow Festival. But now—"

Xu Xi paused, catching a few ashen snowflakes in his palm.

In this age tainted by the Netherworld’s corruption,

the snow was no longer white.

Much of the festival’s meaning had been lost.

Yet, the people in the city didn’t care. They desperately needed an outlet to vent their joy and relief.

Hence, the scene before Xu Xi unfolded.

"Wizard, are you interested in the Winter Snow Festival?"

Her voice was like a spoon lightly tapping a porcelain cup.

A sword hung at her waist, and a coarse brown cloak draped over her shoulders, revealing half of an exquisite face.

Her speech carried the natural cadence of nobility—graceful and unhurried.

Servia looked at Xu Xi curiously. "I thought you wouldn’t be interested in such things."

"Rather than interest, it’s more like nostalgia."

"After all, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a happy scene."

Xu Xi replied while picking up a cup of hot tea.

He took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through his body.

At the same time, he handed the undead girl a portion of ignited Deathcap Mushrooms.

"Ah, thank you."

Servia accepted the mushrooms.

She took a small sniff.

In her current state, her body was incomplete, unable to consume normal food. She relied entirely on soulfire for sustenance.

Holding the Deathcap Mushrooms close, the ethereal aroma seeped into her soulfire, offering a unique culinary experience.

"Mmm—"

The girl let out a strange sound.

"Is something wrong, Servia?"

"Yes, I was just thinking… could these mushrooms be cultivated further?"

Hesitating,

Servia voiced her idea.

If ignited Deathcap Mushrooms emitted a scent pleasing to the undead, then perhaps cultivating different variants could produce varying aromas?

She wanted to experiment, to breed Deathcap Mushrooms with diverse flavors—

sweet, sour, bitter, spicy.

Xu Xi considered the suggestion and found it intriguing, though restoring her physical body would be far more practical.

Whoosh—

Whoosh—

The wind grew stronger.

Gray snow buried the world.

Pure silence smothered everything, even the city’s distant cheers, leaving only the faint flicker of firelight as proof that the celebration continued.

Xu Xi and Servia were observers, isolated from the revelry.

The difference was,

Xu Xi merely watched.

Servia reminisced as she spoke.

"The Winter Snow Festival here seems different from what I remember."

Her emerald-green pupils, like frozen jade cracked by winter’s touch, reflected light in vivid ripples—traces of memory.

"Perhaps too much time has passed, and people no longer follow the old ways."

"Wizard, did you know? In the past, the Winter Snow Festival involved ice sculpting. It was a wonderful activity."

"When I was little, my father and mother would take me to the capital’s grand square, where we’d join countless others to witness the unveiling of the king’s ice sculpture."

"Come to think of it, that was a thousand years ago."

"I see…"

Servia’s voice faltered, her face betraying a loneliness she herself didn’t recognize. "No wonder no one does it anymore."

To be the only one left alive—

was this the blessing of fate or the curse of a demon?

The hero still had no answer.

"It sounds lovely, Servia," Xu Xi said after listening patiently, nodding slightly.

Under the girl’s surprised gaze, he continued:

"If there’s a chance, would you tell me more? About the past, I mean."

"Yes! Of course… if you don’t mind."

Amid the howling snowstorm,

the hero felt a little solace.