This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

Dense clashes of blades echoed across the empty field of vile grass.

Large swathes of vile grass were severed at the roots by the surging sword qi. The crooked wooden hut collapsed with a thunderous crash amid the fierce battle, scattered arcs of lightning igniting the dry wood and sending towering flames roaring into the eternal night.

Fifteen kept shifting and retreating, the soles of his boots carving chaotic trails across the scorched earth that carried a corrosive aura.

He had long guessed that this puji was no weakling, but when he realized that he couldn’t fully parry the puji’s sword techniques—and could only rely on retreating and dodging to avoid the strikes he couldn’t block—he still found it utterly unbelievable.

The current situation was simply unacceptable to Fifteen.

If the opponent were a powerful demon, being suppressed like this would be easier to accept. After all, humanity’s racial baseline wasn’t particularly high.

But this was just a puji!

This puji’s attributes were clearly far inferior to his. In terms of raw arm strength alone, it didn’t even reach half of his.

What did that mean?

It meant that the swordsmanship he had cultivated through decades of bitter training was losing to a mushroom monster?!

How could that possibly be acceptable!

With a single strike, Fifteen knocked aside the lightning-wreathed longsword held in the puji’s tentacle. Seizing the opening, he leapt back half a step, crossed his twin swords before his chest, and took his stance.

“Wild—”

【Entangle】

A tentacle coiled around Fifteen’s right arm and yanked downward, forcibly interrupting his move.

At the same time, borrowing the pulling force, the puji’s short legs lashed out.

puji puji—

Touch and retreat.

Fifteen staggered backward. His fingertips brushed past his nose, coming away stained with a trace of red.

“How could I… again and again… lose to a puji?!”

【Stomp】

【Breaking the Army】

“Wild Dance!”

Humiliation and fury mixing together, Fifteen lunged forward once more, his twin swords transforming into a storm of steel.

At last, the Sword Saint puji drew its second sword. Flames surged along the blade, instantly igniting the vile grass around them.

It parried the furious onslaught unhurriedly. Every step of its retreat precisely avoided the blade edges—it didn’t even use the 【Treading the Moon】 footwork.

Where the two passed, the unfortunate strawmen caught in the battle zone met grim fates.

They were either torn to shreds by sword edges or swallowed by flames and burned to ash.

Number Nine chased desperately from behind, its short legs hopping left and right through the burning vile grass. It was afraid that Fifteen would stray too far and fall into a deeper layer.

Fifteen was completely immersed in the tempest-like exchange of offense and defense, sweat dripping from his chin.

Meanwhile, the Sword Saint had more or less grasped the capabilities of this puji body and decided to end this instructional bout.

Let’s try this one last thing…

It suddenly leapt backward. The tentacles wrapped around the twin swords spun rapidly like spindles, and the instant Fifteen closed in, both swords shot forward explosively.

Clang!

The Sword Saint puji’s seemingly light thrust contained spiraling force. At the moment the sword tips collided, Fifteen felt a violent jolt in his grip, nearly losing hold of his weapons.

At that instant, two tentacles extended and struck pressure points on his wrists. Before the numbing sensation could spread, the twin swords were deftly stripped from his hands.

Those weapons, carrying sharp killing intent, shot straight back at him!

At the razor’s edge between life and death, Fifteen drew his final weapon in time—the short sword left behind by his master!

Cold light flashed repeatedly. Amid piercing collisions, he barely knocked aside the two flying swords.

When he raised his eyes in lingering shock, the puji’s figure rippled, then gradually dissolved into space.

“So… it fell down?”

Only then did Fifteen finally exhale the breath he’d been holding. In that split second just now, he had truly thought he was about to be killed.

Lost to a puji again…

And unlike the stifling frustration of the previous two times, when he had been ambushed, this time was an upright contest of swordsmanship—a clean, decisive defeat with no tricks involved.

He could even tell that the puji still had strength to spare… and that was hard to accept.

Looking at the cracked skin of his palm, Fifteen couldn’t understand what had gone wrong with the world.

Why was it that any random puji he ran into had the ability to utterly crush him?

Was he really that weak?

And also… this feeling of being beaten down while simultaneously humiliated felt strangely familiar… even a little… enjoyable?

Fifteen violently shook his head. Enjoyable my ass—he wasn’t a masochist!

puji puji—

A sound from behind made his muscles tense instantly, but he soon realized that it wasn’t the twin-sword puji.

Number Nine finally came scrambling up from behind. The first thing it did after stopping was hurriedly stomping out the flames clinging to its short legs. Then, with a tentacle, it wrapped the thought-stone and slapped it against Fifteen’s backside.

“How did it fall down there? Could it really not be mushroom race?” It was just as shaken and had already decided to report this to the Fungus Lord the moment they got out.

Fifteen silently picked up the scattered longswords, then solemnly sheathed his master’s short sword.

“No matter what, let’s leave while we can.” He looked toward where the Sword Saint puji had vanished, lingering fear in his heart. “I really can’t beat him. If he climbs back up, it’ll be dangerous.”

“And whose fault was it for ditching me and charging in alone? If the two of us had fought together just now, that smug puji definitely wouldn’t have stood a chance!”

……

Sword light swept across the wilderness like a crescent moon. Dozens of strawman farmers, along with the vile grass fields they guarded, were cut apart and set ablaze…

Amid the roaring flames, the Sword Saint puji slowly sat down.

This puji body possessed a full suite of resistances—unexpectedly convenient.

Fifteen’s reaction at the final moment, drawing the short sword to block, had been fairly satisfying. As for being suppressed, that wasn’t really Fifteen’s fault.

After all, every one of the boy’s sword habits lay within his expectations. Even without deliberate targeting, it was like predicting every move on a chessboard.

That bout not only brought back the familiar feeling of instructing a disciple, it also sparked new insight.

Tentacles really are useful.

Techniques like spiral thrusts were absolutely impossible with a human body.

And that feeling when he seized Fifteen’s twin swords at the end…

The Sword Saint examined his four flexible tentacles, wondering if he should add two more swords.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

He was already a puji—why cling to the human twin-sword style?

And beyond tentacles, there were those strange skills…

Thoughts sparked like scattering embers.

As his thinking broke free from the inherent limitations of his human days, inspiration surged like a spring, countless possible combination techniques flooding his mind.

A pity there was no disciple left to practice on.

But…

Looking at the swaying figures out in the fields…

Strawmen weren’t ideal practice partners, but given the circumstances, he’d make do.

……

After Number Nine came out and reconnected to the fungus carpet, it immediately began tattling to Lin Jun.

It claimed that it had encountered an out-of-control puji in the abyss, one that almost killed their Fifteen. In the end, it was thanks to its timely intervention that the opponent was defeated—though that strange puji still managed to escape.

The moment Lin Jun heard Number Nine’s description, he knew it was the Sword Saint.

As for Number Nine’s boasting about how it had displayed overwhelming might, Lin Jun automatically ignored it. There was no way a fragment of his own soul could fool him.

Besides, the Sword Saint disciplining his own disciple wasn’t any of his business.

So after telling Number Nine that it was Old Fourteen, Lin Jun casually dismissed it.

Lin Jun’s attention was now almost entirely focused on the northern lands.

The excavation work had finally made new progress…

They had dug up something big.