This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

After Ginny escaped, the effects of the fear aura faded. However, no one woke up immediately. Instead, they slipped into ordinary sleep, and Veyra could only rouse them one by one.

On the ground, Fein slept without the slightest concern for appearances. Drool traced a glistening line down his filthy cheek as he muttered indistinctly in his sleep, “Sister… that thing you’re wearing… that’s my underwear…”

Before he could finish, he was grabbed by the cheek by Phylline, who had woken up first. “What kind of nonsense are you dreaming about?!”

On the other side, the succubus Mengya also hurried in. She went straight to the corner, grabbed the goblin off the ground, and raised her hand, ready to slap him hard a couple of times.

Before her hand could come down, Stinky Fish suddenly snapped his eyes open.

“Mengya? Did you forget what I taught you? At a time like this, you should be running,” Stinky Fish said in disbelief.

“I risked my life to save you, and instead of thanking me you lecture me?” Mengya’s eyes went wide with anger. “Let me tell you, I almost died this time. That little stash of gold you’ve been hiding, I’m taking at least half—”

“Wait!” Stinky Fish suddenly leaned in, sniffed hard, then recoiled violently. “You bastard, how can you be in heat at a time like this too?! Stay away from me! Stay away! I finally survived—I still want to live a few more years!”

When succubi become excited, they naturally secrete a faintly enticing scent. It was an instinctive racial trait.

Mengya sniffed her own arm. There really was a bit of that smell—just a little.

She was about to argue when Stinky Fish had already yanked some filthy rag from who-knows-where and clamped it over his mouth and nose, urging muffledly, “Stop talking! Let’s go! You actually dared to get mixed up with these humans—you’re seriously insane!”

Unfortunately, they were a step too slow.

“Demons!” A roar filled with hatred cut them off.

A male adventurer who had just woken up, his steps unsteady and the effects of the sedative not yet gone, still picked up a shortsword someone had dropped and blocked Mengya and Stinky Fish, his eyes blazing with hatred.

The other adventurers, waking up one after another, supported each other as they stood. Their gazes all converged on the two non-humans, undisguised hostility written across their faces.

“Are you kidding me? I just helped save you!” Mengya snapped, her heart-shaped tail bristling straight up.

“You only did it to save that goblin,” the adventurer said, gripping his shortsword tightly. “I don’t owe anything to a demon like you!”

“You—!” Mengya was about to shout back when something cold and hard was suddenly pressed into her hand. It was a dagger Stinky Fish had passed to her.

At the same time, Stinky Fish himself tensed up, dagger in hand, assuming a fighting stance.

With tensions at the breaking point, Veyra stepped between the two sides.

His gaze did not linger on the hate-filled adventurer in front of him. Instead, he looked past him, toward Anton, who was being helped up by his companions.

“Anton,” Veyra said calmly, stating the facts, “she did provide critical help, and I promised to rescue her companion. If we meet again on the battlefield, killing each other is fair game. But this time, we shouldn’t turn on someone who helped us.”

Phylline and Fein moved to stand behind Veyra. They weren’t opposed to killing the two demons here; they were simply supporting Veyra.

Anton dragged his weakened body forward and placed a hand on the shoulder of the agitated companion.

“Captain, they’re demons! My family was—”

“I know,” Anton said, his voice weary and helpless. “But look at us. Everyone’s injured, barely standing. If we really start fighting now, we might lose brothers who just barely survived.”

A few other adventurers also stepped forward. After some persuasion, the man finally lowered his weapon, though his bloodshot eyes still stared fixedly at Mengya and Stinky Fish.

“Go!” Stinky Fish stayed on guard, yanked Mengya along, and the two dashed past the group of human adventurers.

“Damn it, the smell on you is even stronger now!”

“I can’t control it! Besides, I saved your life—where do you get the nerve to complain so much?” Mengya’s irritated voice faded quickly as they disappeared into the forest.

Anton withdrew his gaze and turned to Veyra, joking as he thanked him, “Too bad you’re not a noble lord… otherwise, I’d be tempted to have the brothers swear loyalty to you.”

As he spoke, he habitually reached out to pat Veyra on the shoulder in gratitude.

Unexpectedly, that single touch made Veyra sway and collapse backward. Fortunately, Phylline behind him caught him in time.

“Veyra!” Fein cried out, scrambling over and clumsily pulling open Veyra’s clothes.

His lean body was covered in large patches of deep purple and even black bruises. Especially across his chest, abdomen, and back, there was hardly any uninjured skin.

The staff-wielding cultist’s attacks hadn’t drawn blood, but the blunt-force trauma had caused extremely severe internal damage.

Everyone hurriedly dug out the healing potions they carried and carefully fed them to Veyra.

Only after some color returned to his pale face and his breathing became long and steady did everyone finally relax a little.

Phylline gently touched the bruises, her expression full of concern. “If Syrian were here, it’d be great… he’s best at treating this kind of internal injury.”

“I’m fine, Phylline,” Veyra said, sitting up on his own. “Let’s leave quickly. The cultists we lured away might come back.”

Given the team’s current condition, even though they weren’t incapable of fighting, there was no need to take more risks.

Everyone agreed. Supporting each other, they chose a different route from the one they came by and quickly left the abandoned church.

Along the way, Phylline took on escort duty, shooting down any slimes that tried to get close.

As they walked, Veyra—half-supported—suddenly turned his head and asked curiously, “Fein, the Syrian you’ve been mentioning… who is he?”

After several seconds of silence, Fein panicked and shouted toward his sister ahead, “We’re doomed, Sister! Veyra—he… he hit his head!”

“?!”

…

Up in the branches, three puji stood in a triangular formation, silently watching Veyra and the others depart.

One of the puji even had a cracked slime core wrapped around its tentacle.

Huh…?

There really are a lot of strange things going on here!

First, a slime under [Minion Control].

Then that sudden appearance of a Virtue…

[Virtue of Sacrifice: Achieve a wish at the cost of oneself]

Setting aside what that “cost” even means, Lin Jun was really curious—what exactly does “achieve a wish” mean?

I really want to experiment on him!

Unfortunately, that guy belongs to the old Divine Tree bastard.

Lin Jun snuck a glance at Syrian, who was idly bouncing a puji around like a ball while waiting for news.

No good. First time seeing a Virtue, and with such an outrageous description—there’s no way he’s letting the Divine Tree keep it all to himself.

He has to find a way to sneak a puji in. As long as the rice is already cooked, even if the Divine Tree bastard comes back later, he probably won’t have much to say!

Thinking this, one of the three puji hopped a few times and quietly followed after them.