Chapter 29: We Know Nothing
Inside the pit, only sporadic lights provide illumination. In areas untouched by the light lay numerous bandits groaning in pain. Some had even melded with the climbing vines on the walls, blurring the line between human and plant.
Ron looked at the bandits afflicted with a condition akin to withered roots and, for a moment, felt like he could take a stroll around here. He presumed these bandits wouldn’t suddenly attack. After all, they could barely move.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t find another conscious person after dealing with the talking bandit. Even with people around and countless groans, Ron felt an inexplicable silence. It was so quiet that he could occasionally hear his heartbeat clearly.
“These thick roots?” Ron spotted tree roots breaking through the walls, with root nodules hanging beneath them.
The tree roots breaking through were mostly as thick as a waist and appeared at the furthest ends of the root system.
“These are the Mother Holy Tree’s roots, right?” Ron asked, noting the dark-barked roots.
However, the bark of the Mother Holy Tree emitted a greenish hue, unlike these blackened roots.
“Yes, these are the very end of the Mother Holy Tree’s root,” replied the system.
Although Ron wanted to touch the roots, he resisted the idea, fearing he might catch “withered root syndrome.”
He contemplated burning the roots when a voice from the pit entrance interrupted, “Mr. Ron!!! We’ve all come over! Miss Moluna is here too!”
The voice echoed, making Ron’s eardrums ache. Even the groggy bandits were almost awakened.
“I’ve told Loloan so many times not to be so loud,” Ron sighed, “Why does he always forget?”
Regardless of how often he told Loloan, the guy always forgot to speak softly.
Ron, unsure where to get fire, decided to find Loloan first. After all, the small flames inside the lamp were useless for burning these roots.
“I’m inside. Come on in,” Ron said as he walked towards the pit entrance.
“Mr. Ron is over there!” Loloan, hearing Ron’s voice, knew exactly where he was.
Loloan’s position could have been easily pinpointed if the bandits were still coherent. In less than half a minute, Loloan, Moluna, and a group of Phylin tribes found Ron.
“Mr. Ron, I saw many strange folks when I came in,” Loloan said, referring to the bandits against the wall.
“Loloan said they’re covered in something, like sprouting bean sprouts,” Ron explained.
In Loloan’s eyes, those withered roots resembled bean sprouts.
Ron casually remarked, “Those guys are sick. No need to bother.”
“Did any of you bring fire?” Ron inquired.
“Fire? No,” Loloan shook his head.
“Mr. Ron, I have a water gun,” Moluna volunteered, raising an eyebrow.
“It might be better to use the fire plough,” Loloan suggested, lifting his iron spear, “All we need is some tinder and branches!”
Ron, looking towards the depths of the pit, said, “I need a big fire. We need to burn all the roots inside.”
Loloan scratched his head, asking, “But why do you want to burn this place down?”
“Because there’s an epidemic here,” Ron explained. “These guys are affected by the epidemic. That’s why they look like this.”
“Woah! An epidemic! How can this be!” Loloan panicked upon hearing those words.
Mr. Susua, peacefully enjoying retirement and tea, was brought to a strange place.
“Mr. Ron, we’ve brought Mr. Susua here,” Loloan announced loudly. “We also brought firewood!”
“Did you ask them to bring us here?” Mr. Susua inquired, “Is there a reason for us to be here?”
“Do you know what Withering Root Syndrome is?” Ron asked directly.
“Withering Root Syndrome? What’s that?” Mr. Susua looked puzzled, “I haven’t heard of it.”
Ron thought giving case examples would be practical, so he opened the pit’s door, saying, “Like this, for instance.”
“Wow, these bandits look quite miserable,” Mr Susua exclaimed as he looked at the ailing bandits in the pit.
“Mr. Susua, you really don’t know what this is?” Ron could tell he was genuinely clueless.
“I don’t know,” Mr. Susua waved his hand, “I’m honest, not lying.”
