This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

With large-scale warfare temporarily coming to an end, the attention of the imperial dukes shifted back from the battlefield to their own territories.

Sigismund was busy replenishing his army and reselecting new Blood Knights, and once again rejected the brain-damaged proposal from his roommate to use a “survival of the fittest” breeding-style selection method.

A large portion of the funds used to rebuild his forces came from selling delicious “wine.”

Of course, all of it was limited to LV1 and LV2 levels of deliciousness, and the quantities released were strictly controlled. Even so, the profits were staggering.

Even princes traveled long distances just to visit him, hoping to squeeze a little more of the good stuff out of his hands.

Such astonishing profits naturally attracted countless prying eyes.

Recently, overt and covert probing and investigations arrived one after another.

And among all the interested parties, the one who made Sigismund feel the most uneasy was Moferet.

As the head of the emperor’s directly subordinate intelligence agency, she controlled the most elite network of spies in the empire.

In the shadow war of intelligence, Sigismund knew he was completely at a disadvantage.

So far, the only thing he could confirm was that Moferet’s agents were already operating within his territory. As for how far they had investigated or how much key information they had obtained, he was almost completely in the dark.

But that was not the most troublesome part.

The real problem was that Moferet, to a certain extent, represented the emperor’s will.

Although Sigismund was ninety percent sure that this was Moferet abusing her authority to cause him trouble and settle scores from that council meeting, he still did not dare to casually eliminate agents directly under the emperor.

If things escalated and reached the emperor’s ears, Moferet would certainly be punished, and the emperor might even compensate Sigismund a little to placate him.

But the act of “killing the emperor’s agents” itself would become an indelible stain, bringing endless future trouble.

Thus, the best solution was to make the other side return empty-handed and give up on their own. Unfortunately, Sigismund suspected that his side had already been almost completely investigated.

“Spies? Agents? Don’t worry, Little Xi. They won’t be able to trace my methods.”

That was what his roommate said, and Sigismund could only pray that he would be reliable this time.

…

Sigismund was being thoroughly irritated by Moferet, but compared to the predicament Elinor was currently facing, his troubles were nothing.

Elinor was already exhausted in both body and mind, her face carrying a deep weariness. She could barely even consume her daily required blood.

The first and most direct blow came from Sigismund’s so-called “delicious wine.”

This thing delivered a head-on strike to her high-end blood industry that she had painstakingly managed for years.

The rich, layered “top-tier beverages” she had once crafted with great effort became utterly worthless in front of true Deliciousness.

Her products instantly fell from the peak of luxury goods to merely “slightly better than average quality.”

Now, any bloodkin with even a little status or wealth would desperately try to get their hands on a few cans of Deliciousness.

Only those who couldn’t get a quota, or couldn’t afford it, would reluctantly remember that Elinor still had stock—at prices far lower than before.

Originally, when Sigismund saved her during a crisis, she had even been prepared to let go of their past conflicts.

Then Sigismund pulled this stunt, cutting off half her income.

She hated him more than ever.

Elinor was not without attempts to trace the source of Sigismund’s goods.

However, whenever her scouts uncovered even a hint of valuable information, they would disappear without a sound.

She simply couldn’t understand how Sigismund’s counter-intelligence methods had suddenly become so terrifyingly effective.

At present, the only remaining advantage she held seemed to be her large production volume and relatively stable supply.

And even that “advantage” was now facing a severe challenge.

The war that had previously invaded the United Kingdom ended in mutual devastation.

The returning forces were nothing but remnants. Elinor’s plan to seize the chaos and massively acquire high-quality captives as “raw materials” completely collapsed.

Fortunately, that wasn’t fatal. The western coast of the kingdom had still been continuously supplying her with captives.

But recently, even that route was cut off.

The sea was infested with Qiss.

Possibly due to the retreat of the mist and the rise in ambient mana density, a type of swarm monster called Qiss had begun appearing in large numbers in the ocean, crazily attacking all passing ships.

Elinor had already lost seven slave-transport vessels.

She had no way to deal with the Qiss at all. Her slave-transport navy simply could not fight those things.

Transporting captives by land was even worse—there was the risk of human interception, the journey was longer, costs skyrocketed, and Sigismund could even choke her supply routes.

It was a nightmare.

The only way out Elinor could think of was to seek aid from the emperor.

But that led to the third major problem.

Previously, the emperor had ordered her to search again for the Holy Codex, assigning Sigismund to assist.

Sigismund treated the task perfunctorily, sending only a few insignificant subordinates.

That wasn’t the key issue.

The real problem was that the search had entered an unbreakable deadlock from the very beginning.

In the past, they located the Holy Codex using a special material derived from the same source as its cover, relying on faint proximity resonance to determine direction.

This time, that method failed.

After receiving the order, Elinor quickly formed a new search team and sent them south.

Yet within two days, the team returned.

Because the resonance indicated the Holy Codex had somehow reappeared in the north.

After that, the Codex’s location began jumping irregularly between north and south, sometimes pointing toward the Dwarven Mountains, sometimes the Elven Forest, and sometimes even the sea.

Clearly, the current unknown holder of the Holy Codex had cracked this tracking method and was actively interfering with it.

The search mission had already failed before it truly began.

With such an important task making zero progress, if she now shifted focus toward her slave trade, even Elinor understood that the emperor would never forgive her.

Three problems.

Not one could be solved.

Under this crushing pressure, Elinor rapidly withered away.

Her current weight was now less than one-sixth of Sigismund’s.

She did not know, however, that at least the Qiss problem was actually very easy to solve.

…

Out at sea, Giro and Tanaka were piloting a medium-sized vessel straight through the dangerous waters where Elinor had lost seven slave ships.

Yet unlike Elinor’s experience, although the waves were fierce, there was not a single Qiss in sight.

Tanaka stood on deck, looked around, and whispered to the foxman beside him:

“Hiring snakefolk makes sense—I get that. Exploring an underwater dungeon, they’ve got natural advantages.”

“But bringing these puji along… what’s the point?”

“These spore-spitting monsters are just a waste of mana potions, aren’t they?”