This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

After enduring multiple waves of war, the Golden Valley City Guard was no longer a rabble of undisciplined men.

Seeing their comrades arguing with adventurers, more than a dozen guards stood up almost in unison, closing in with unfriendly expressions.

“If we start a fight now, it’ll get messy,” Syrian murmured in warning, glancing around.

It wasn’t that he feared defeat—the guards here were eating, not fighting. They hadn’t brought their pujis. With only copper- and silver-ranked personal strength, they were nowhere near the level of Veyra’s team.

Among the four, only Fein hadn’t quite reached gold rank yet. In a real fight, they would not lose.

But this was Golden Valley City—the guards’ territory.

If things escalated, reinforcements would come quickly, and causing a disturbance here would only end badly for adventurers like them.

Veyra subtly nudged Phylline’s side. Realizing her impulsiveness, Phylline clicked her tongue and reluctantly decided to let it go.

Unfortunately, the other side didn’t feel the same.

The guard took a few deliberate steps forward, standing so close his chest nearly brushed hers. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you tell me to stop? I’m standing.”

Phylline clenched her fists, barely resisting the urge to punch him.

The guard didn’t dare go further—he could see the Adventurers’ Guild badges gleaming on their chests. If things did explode, he’d be the first one beaten to the ground.

Satisfied with his taunt, he turned to leave.

“Hmph!” But as he passed the woman from before, he kicked her again—carelessly, cruelly.

“You dare!”

Phylline took a step forward—

Crack!

“Ahhhhhh!”

The guard’s scream tore through the square.

But Phylline hadn’t even swung—her hand still hung midair.

Standing between them was a tall woman in armor—Commander Angela. It was her boot that had just crushed her subordinate’s leg.

At the sight of their superior, the surrounding guards immediately sat down again, silent.

“What are you howling for? You’ll be fine after lying down a while,” Angela said, giving the broken leg two more casual kicks.

The soldier bit down on his teeth, sweat dripping down his forehead, too terrified to make a sound.

“Starting trouble inside the city. Report for punishment.” She waved for others to drag the man away, then turned toward Phylline.

Her gaze wasn’t exactly kind. “I hope you adventurers are here to help, not to pick fights with my guards.”

“It was our mistake. Thank you, commander, for upholding justice.” Veyra stepped forward, shielding Phylline behind him as he bowed slightly.

“Justice, huh.” Angela’s eyes drifted toward the woman still curled on the ground, but she said nothing more. She turned on her heel and left.

Once the crowd had dispersed, Veyra turned to Phylline, his tone serious. “You really have to fix that temper. We won’t always get lucky with someone stepping in.”

“I just… couldn’t stand seeing that…” Phylline mumbled.

“But did it really help her?” Veyra’s voice softened. “When we’re gone, what if those guards come back for revenge?”

“I…”

Phylline lowered her head. After a long silence, she murmured, “I understand.”

Veyra’s expression eased. He reached out and ruffled her hair. “Next time, just meet my eyes first. I’ll handle it.”

“Okay…”

Veyra then crouched down to meet the woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry. We might’ve made things worse for you.”

“No… no need to apologize,” the woman whispered, her voice fragile. “Thank you.”

Now that he was closer, Veyra noticed the woman’s left hand had only four fingers—her little finger was gone. Her clothing was torn and filthy, but the fabric itself was fine, with faint traces of embroidery. It was the kind of garment only the upper class could afford.

A fallen noble, maybe?

But remembering the guards’ earlier attitude, a new doubt rose in Veyra’s mind.

“Can you tell me your name?”

The woman lifted her head slightly, timid eyes peeking up at him. “I… my name is Lucia.”

———

Divinewood Dungeon, lower levels.

More than ten treants, each sprouting clusters of mushrooms, stood guard near the mouth of a cave.

Since the mycelium carpet had spread through nearly the entire Divinewood Dungeon, Lin Jun had ordered the treants under his control to relocate here.

Little Green and its kin praised the grace of the Divine Tree with fervent devotion, sincerely grateful to their “boss” for letting them return home.

And truth be told, treants did have an advantage in this place.

In the Divinewood Dungeon, most native monsters—even the ones touched by madness—did not attack treants, even those covered in fungus. As a result, Little Green and its kind could move through the dungeon even more freely than Lin Jun himself.

Pop—

A puji burst from the tunnel, rolled through the air, and landed on the ground in a guarded stance.

Then came a second, a third… until hundreds of pujis had surrounded the chamber. At last, the knight puji emerged from the tunnel.

All clear!

The formation of pujis began to move, the rhythmic puji-puji of their footsteps echoing far down the cavern.

Whenever monsters appeared—

If they were plant-type, the treants stepped forward, using [Plant Affinity] to pacify them.

If they were beasts, the pujis didn’t attack; they split off a few expendable ones as decoys while the main formation rushed through.

Their doctrine was clear:

The artifact must not be lost!

If the tunnels weren’t so narrow, Lin Jun would have brought Gray and Piglet too.

Fortunately, Divinewood’s ecosystem hadn’t fully recovered yet. With minimal losses, the puji formation finally reached the spiral pit’s bottom.

A messenger puji was carried by vines to a sapling near the center. “Boss! You there? The delivery’s really here this time!”

Before the echo faded, the knight puji vanished from the formation.

This time, it didn’t land on the ground but onto a net of branches.

The vines slithered up the knight puji’s body and deftly drew out the Heartwood core it carried within.

“I thought it’d take you at least a year or two, but you actually got it this fast… not bad,” the Divinewood’s voice rumbled. For once, it sounded almost impressed.

“Then…”

Before Lin Jun could finish, the Divinewood handed over a fruit glowing with gentle light.

[Life Essence]!

“The promised item. We’re even. Don’t come back.”

As soon as it spoke, the surrounding vines began to unravel, ready to fling the knight puji out.

“Wait!” Lin Jun shouted urgently.

“What is it now?” The Divinewood’s tone grew colder—it clearly disliked speaking with him.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Ask.”

Through the messenger puji’s awful voice came a rare trace of tension. “Boss, before, you said this world was doomed—but wouldn’t say why. At least… can you tell me how long it has left?”

“…Since you brought it back so quickly—fine. Left unchecked, maybe ten years. If those above pull off a miracle, perhaps another fifty or sixty. Heh. Just a few more decades of suffering.”

“What’s causing it—?”

Fwoosh—

The knight puji was unceremoniously ejected, slamming into the ground outside.

Tch!

Lin Jun frowned but didn’t turn back. There was no point arguing with the Divinewood.

Carefully, he drew out the glowing fruit and tossed it onto the mycelium carpet.

[Sin of Greed Activated]

[Skill Plundered: Life Essence]