CHAPTER 176: TESTED THEORY

A voice shattered the quake’s roar from behind them.

Noirette whirled, her boots skidding on fractured moss. Blanchette tensed beside her, crimson eyes flicking to the source.

The mushroom woman stood there, cap bobbing with the aftershocks, her verdant face split in a toothy grin.

She simply had materialized without a sound, as if the earth itself had coughed her up from a hidden crevice.

"Those glitchy lines crawling over the giant," the mushroom witch said, pointing a ridged finger toward the titan. "Are they the sign of this so-called digitalization you implied in your marked project?"

Noirette’s surprise rooted her in place, the air thick with spore-choked dust that stung her eyes. She blinked through it, studying the woman’s loam-colored gaze, which fixed on the distant behemoth with unblinking focus.

"How were you able to see the glitch?" Noirette asked, her voice cutting clear over the fading rumble.

The titan stirred then, its colossal form pivoting northward with a groan that split the horizon.

Mycelial tendrils dragged across the ground, uprooting stalks in cascades of luminescent debris.

Each shift sent fresh tremors rippling outward, the earth bucking like a beast rousing from slumber.

Noirette braced against a nearby cap, its surface slick under her palm. Blanchette shifted her weight, cloak fluttering in the spore-wind that followed the entity’s wake.

The mushroom woman did not flinch. Her grin widened, bark-like nails digging into her palms as excitement lit her features.

"This means my experiment and theory about the digitalization are correct," she declared, her earthy rumble carrying over the din.

Blanchette turned her head slowly, her wide smile unchanging—a serene curve that held no trace of the chaos around them.

"What exactly did you do?" Blanchette asked, her tone casual, as if inquiring about the weather amid the storm, or in this case, an earthquake.

The woman laughed, a sound like roots cracking through stone.

She stepped closer, her patchwork garb shedding faint spores that swirled in the tremors’ wake, forming brief, glowing eddies at their feet.

"Digitalization is very integral and stealthy in its influence on Fathomi," she explained, "To the point that any branch and influence of Fathomi itself fails to include the phenomenon as part of its system."

Noirette nodded slowly, piecing it together amid the settling dust.

"Go on."

The woman continued, undeterred by a fresh aftershock that toppled a nearby cluster of smaller fungi, their caps bursting open in sprays of phosphorescent fluid. "I thought, what if I brought the digitalization phenomenon to a vessel with a catalyst influenced by Fathomi’s system?"

"How did you manage to do that?" Noirette asked.

The mushroom woman’s eyes gleamed, reflecting the titan’s distant glow.

She spread her arms wide, as if embracing the biome’s vast, hidden web.

"I found a freshly dead corpse," she said. "Then I assimilated it into this mushroom biome, which is home to a large system of living beings connected to each other and the land.

"When the glitch-like phenomenon happened in this biome," the woman went on, her voice rising with the thrill of revelation, "I revived the soul of that dead individual that had been connected to the large fungi system of this mushroom biome." The woman pointed again at the titan, "Creating that titan you see right now. It is akin to a newborn with the soul of someone else, and it is also the land that is afflicted with the glitch at the same time~!

"Since it is afflicted to an entity with the Well of the Soul connected to Fathomi," the mushroom woman finished, "it essentially allowed beings that are integrated to Fathomi’s influence to be able to see it."

Noirette stood transfixed, the implications unfolding like the caps around them—slow, inevitable, radiant in their complexity.

To think such a method could bridge the veil—unreliable, perhaps, born of biome’s wild whims, but a start nonetheless.

A way for inhabitants bound to the Well to glimpse the signs, to confront the digital creep. And more—it proved the phenomenon real.

Before Noirette could voice her amazement, the mushroom woman turned, her cap casting a long shadow in the dim light. She raised a hand in farewell, the gesture loose and final.

"Anywho, thanks for listening to my rambling~" she called over her shoulder. "See ya in the future, smart juniors~"

Noirette stepped forward, the ground still humming faintly underfoot. "Where are you going? And what about the mushroom-covered titan that is roaming around without purpose now?"

The woman waved her hand without looking back, bark-ridged fingers trailing spores that dissolved into the air.

"I will take responsibility," she said. "You two should not bother dealing with it."

Noirette’s wry smile tugged at her lips, the words half-formed in her throat.

"Ignoring the problem is not the same as taking responsibility!" Noirette shouted, her voice carrying on the spore-laden breeze.

Before the echo faded, the air shimmered around the woman.

A teleportation spell ignited—runes blooming in verdant script across her form, coiling like mycelial threads.

She blurred, then vanished in a puff of glittering dust, leaving only the faint scent of fermented earth.

Blanchette turned to Noirette, her wide smile serene amid the constant tremor of the ground.

"What now?" Blanchette asked.

Noirette’s smirk emerged, sharp and eager, her eyes alight on the titan’s retreating form.

"I am itching to test how far the extent of my capability at manipulating Malleable Essence reaches," Noirette replied.

Blanchette nodded once, her crimson eyes glinting with amusement.

Without a word, she extended her hand, palm upturned to the humid air. Malleable Essence stirred at her call.

The essence coalesced swiftly, shaping into a low-slung sofa of woven stalks and cushioned moss, its frame sturdy against the spongy ground.

Blanchette settled onto it with deliberate grace, her witch hat and cloak draping over the edges as she crossed her legs, the wide smile unwavering.

"Good luck," she said, sinking deeper into the makeshift comfort.

Noirette eyed the conjuration, the sofa’s surface yielding softly under Blanchette’s form.

"Is it even comfortable with all of the earthquakes happening?" Noirette asked.

Blanchette adjusted her posture, the sofa absorbing the vibration without protest.

"I just think of it as an extra massage."

Noirette’s smile widened, "Suit yourself."

Noirette walked forward a few steps, boots sinking into the mossy carpet that still bore cracks from the titan’s passage.

She then closed her eyes briefly, centering on the Malleable Essence that permeated all.

It flowed around her like an unseen current—the dirt’s gritty weight, the mud’s slick cohesion, the plants’ fibrous resilience, the rocks’ unyielding core, even the mushrooms’ spongy yield.

She tapped into it, fingers splaying as if conducting an orchestra of raw potential.

The environment responded.

Dirt clumped first, rising in tendrils that twisted toward a central form. Mud slithered in to bind it, smoothing edges into limb-like protrusions.

Plants unfurled from the mass, veins threading through like circuits, lending flexibility to what hardened next—rocks embedding as armored plates, unpolished but solid.

Mushrooms capped the shoulders and joints, their gills flaring open to release binding spores that sealed the structure.

The humanoid figure took shape, mirroring Noirette’s own silhouette, tall and defiant.

Then, as if a massive programming language had been shoved into the golem, it stirred.

Limbs flexed, joints whirring faintly on spore-lubricated hinges.

The figures straightened, head tilting in assessment—like robotic vessels granted artificial intelligence.

Blanchette whistled from her perch.

"Such a narcissist you are," she teased, "using yourself as the design for the golems."

"I planned to use you as the design reference," Noirette retorted, "but I realized that all of the intricate mechanisms would get compressed with how small you are."

Tightened veins coiled around Blanchette’s face, "You can just make me bigger, you know?"

"It would look ugly then, heh."

Ever since meeting Dorose, Noirette had been wondering what was the best way to deal with such an immovable powerhouse if she ever met one that was hostile.

Without her Well of the Soul and divine portfolio, Noirette only had her imagination and will power to rely on manipulating the Malleable Essence around them.

Training to reach the same power level was important, but it won’t be instant.

Thus, Noirette devised a fighting style where she could influence or exit the battlefield without directly confronting her enemies.

One after another, the golems rose—ten, then twenty, arrayed in loose ranks along the ruined surface.

By the time she reached fifty, the dell brimmed with them—an army of mirrored selves, standing sentinel amid the glowing sprawl.

It was not similar to how Samael used her Divine Construct at all, but Noirette couldn’t help but find the similarity in this view.

"I miss my wives..."

She paused, breath steadying, and turned her focus inward once more.

The same way the golems were created, Noirette began crafting weapons for each of the golems to wield.

They were that of modern heavy firearms, from anti-materiel rifles, javelin, all sorts of rocket launchers, and even an entire ballistic missile.

A wide grin emerged on her face, legs stood with pride.

And thus Noirette declared.

"This place will be my firepower testing site from now on."