On the fungal mat of the rock wall, a newly born Puki broke free from the mycelium's restraints.
In the instant of completing its formation, its small mushroom legs gently kicked, and its body yielded to gravity, plummeting downward.
The howling valley wind caused its mushroom cap to flutter violently, emitting a plup-plup sound.
It was not a solitary traveler; in the night sky, countless Puki of various shapes were falling together.
Below, the Demon Race's arrows and magic wove a web of death, surging upward.
A nearby scale-covered Puki was instantly carbonized by the leaping electric arc, a fat variant was pierced by several sharp arrows, collapsing like a punctured bag, and even those in stealth mode were ignited by a stray Fireball Technique, reduced to blackened remains.
This newborn Puki was not exempt either.
An arrow pierced its fragile mushroom body, ending its brief life. From birth to demise, the average lifespan of a Puki at the valley mouth was only six seconds.
