This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

Louisa stood tall in the central waters of the battlefield, crimson greatsword in hand, surrounded by water currents and lingering magical radiance that had yet to fully subside.

Below her, Ironjaw’s shattered corpse—missing its head and one arm—had already sunk to the bottom, leaving behind only a few lingering strands of dark green venom intermingled with fresh red blood.

Even though she’d caught the boss’s attention, the matter at hand still needed to be finished.

Her expression taut, she extended one hand and clenched it in the air.

The blood surged violently from Ironjaw’s remains, gathering rapidly into Louisa’s palm and forming a dense sphere of blood.

Within the fungal network, the soldiers’ cheers erupted.

“Marshal invincible!”

“Did you see that blood armor?! Even spatial rifts couldn’t tear it apart!”

“The marshal is undefeated!”

But to the remaining snakefolk mercenaries, the scene was pure nightmare.

Their commander had been slain by a bloodkin female general who looked like a demon god incarnate—and even his blood had become her weapon.

Around them, the half-demon soldiers bared sharp fangs in silence.

That silence shattered what little courage the snakefolk had left.

Their leader—their strongest sanctum-level champion—had been utterly crushed in a serious duel, with no room even to struggle.

Even his final trump card had only restrained the enemy for a brief moment.

The gap in power was so vast it inspired despair.

Their backbone was now a headless corpse on the ocean floor.

Resistance? Honor? They were only mercenaries.

When the first snakefolk’s weapon slipped from his trembling claws, the rest finally followed suit. One by one they dropped their weapons, lowered their heads, or averted their gaze, unable to meet their enemies’ eyes.

A few still resisted—eyes burning with fury and defiance, gripping their weapons tighter instead of letting go.

Before they could rush forward, however, their own companions pinned them down.

Louisa waved her hand, leaving the handling of prisoners to her subordinates.

Soon, puji tentacles wrapped around the snakefolk.

Curled up and helpless, they could only entrust their survival to the enemy’s mercy.

Fortunately, Lin Jun truly was a benevolent mushroom—something they would come to understand later.

Louisa retreated back into formation. With a thought, the A-rank magic crystals embedded in her armor dimmed one by one.

As the magic supply cut off, the blood-crystal armor covering her body cracked and peeled away. The soft barbs that had spread throughout her body slowly withdrew amid her low groan, reverting to their original short, rigid forms.

A series of faint, crisp sounds followed.

Without even touching them, the already fracture-filled magic crystals shattered on their own, turning into sparkling dust that drifted away with the water.

The reason the magic-crystal battle armor could unleash such power lay in forcing the crystals to operate beyond their limits, gathering far more magic than normal to amplify both armor and wearer.

The principle was similar to Lin Jun’s earlier magic-crystal self-detonations—but the technical sophistication was worlds apart.

The fight with Ironjaw had not lasted long; the A-rank crystals were far from their true endurance limits.

But the armor did not work on a “use half now, save half for later” basis.

Once the crystals were pushed into overload, even stopping midway was enough to destroy them completely.

Though they were A-rank crystals, the cost was roughly equivalent to consuming a single S-rank crystal capable of housing a knight puji.

An extravagantly expensive expenditure.

As for all–S-rank crystals?

She could empty the treasury and use them—but couldn’t bear to.

Meanwhile, Tanaka was faring no better.

…

In a narrow passage—

A flash of white light.

The mushroom-born youth froze, his expression blank. Tanaka seized the moment, turned, and fled with all his might.

He hadn’t gone far before Ming shook his head and his eyes refocused.

Though he had completely forgotten why he was there, the repeated instructions transmitted through the fungal network from Senior Norris were crystal clear:

Catch the fleeing human.

Obedience was almost instinctive, carved into Ming’s body.

The boss always praised him as “the most well-behaved good kid.”

In his understanding, when the boss wasn’t around, he should obey Senior Norris.

Just as Ming’s fingertips were about to brush Tanaka’s clothes, Tanaka turned back and unleashed another Memory Erasure.

Ming halted again, falling into brief blankness.

It wasn’t that Tanaka was kind-hearted or unwilling to hurt a boyish-looking opponent—it was that…

“Damn physical immunity! Does this world have any sense of fairness?! What are these monsters?!”

Forget killing him—Tanaka couldn’t even knock him unconscious.

He could only erase the boy’s recent memories whenever he was about to be caught.

Tanaka could erase long-term memories, or even memories of specific events, but that required delicate manipulation—far too impractical in combat.

In their chase, Tanaka stumbled out of the passage.

And ran straight into a four-meter-tall Jida.

“What… what the hell is this now?”

Tanaka tried Memory Erasure on Jida.

White light flashed.

Jida didn’t react at all.

Norris, inside Jida, only saw Tanaka raise a finger—he didn’t even perceive the white light.

Jida perceived the outside world through shared senses with the scout puji on its head, and puji didn’t observe the world through eyes at all.

Looking at this Jida, covered head to toe in status panels, Tanaka realized things had gone very wrong and turned to flee.

Gravity Field.

Tanaka’s footing slipped, and he crashed to the ground.

The next second, a sharp-tipped tentacle pierced his right leg and wrapped tightly around it.

Tanaka was dragged along the ground, inch by inch.

No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t break free.

By then, Ming had finally emerged from the passage as well—hope was completely gone.

Clap.

On Kiro’s fox face, the fur at one corner of his mouth had grown visibly thin, though he hadn’t noticed.

“I’ve crossed this corridor—where do I go next?” Tanaka asked beside him.

Kiro fell silent.

The enemy’s detection range was terrifying. Every previous attempt to redirect Tanaka to a different exit had been detected and intercepted almost immediately.

They were so close to the core—yet always failed at the last step.

He didn’t have infinite chances. Every short simulation advanced real time by a small amount.

If he couldn’t find a way out soon, absolute deadlock awaited.

Time slipped by quietly. With each clap, more fox fur accumulated on the floor.

When the fallen silvery-white fur nearly covered his boots, Kiro—eyes bloodshot—finally seized upon the single fleeting possibility.

Under his guidance, Tanaka took a massive detour in a huge arc.

This time, before interception could occur, he finally reached the core region.

[Hero — Restriction Lifted]

Like the Puji Dungeon, the core here was also guarded by powerful defenses.

Yet the water elemental lord that should have been stationed here was nowhere to be seen—only a massive binding ring lay sunken at the bottom.

With no obstacles, Tanaka passed the core and pressed the prepared item against the central seal.

Crack.

A small fracture appeared in the seal—and rapidly expanded.

But the next instant, a tentacle flashed before Tanaka’s eyes.

His right hand—along with half his forearm—vanished from sight.

Lin Jun, controlling a knight puji, wrapped a tentacle around the severed hand and examined the strange plate-like object it held, shock rippling through his mind.

To prove loyalty, the Yellow Book had already confessed nearly all of the Demon King’s secrets.

Six seals—five had been revealed to Lin Jun. The last one even the Yellow Book didn’t know.

Lin Jun had originally thought this had little to do with him. Given the current situation, aside from the Yellow Book, no one who could truly break the seal seemed eager to release the Demon King.

And yet—someone actually was trying to release the Demon King!

And…

Lin Jun stared at the man before him—someone he’d already met once in the archipelago.

Aren’t you a hero?!

Going to such lengths to release the Demon King—have you lost your mind?!

Isn’t this script completely wrong?!

What is this—release him, defeat him, and then go home?!

But Lin Jun had never heard of heroes being able to go home!

At this point, Lin Jun was drowning in questions.

And this Tanaka too—able to use secret passages, with absurd luck, appearing at exactly the moment farthest from the knight puji’s reach.

Otherwise, given their speed difference, Lin Jun would never have let him touch the seal.

Regardless, Lin Jun could never allow a super-spec existence like the Demon King to be released.

The seal was damaged, but still barely functioning.

A knight tentacle shot out, instantly binding the utterly helpless Tanaka.

As a fellow hero, Lin Jun hadn’t planned to make contact so early—but this guy had already stomped right on his mushroom cap.

There was no reason to let him go.

Parasite him, interrogate him, and then decide whether to kill him or recruit him.

That Memory Erasure skill looked pretty useful…

Just as Lin Jun was thinking this, Tanaka’s figure blurred—and vanished.

Only several magic items slowly sank through the water.

Huh?

What kind of ability was that?

Spatial teleportation? Or an illusionary substitute?

“Little Pig!” Lin Jun immediately ordered through the fungal network. “Lead the troops out of the dungeon at once! Find the ship the snakefolk used to get here!”

The anger in the boss’s voice left Louisa no time to hesitate. She led the troops straight out of the Tidal Sanctum.

The moment they left the relatively stable sanctum area, violent magical turbulence and regrouping mist monsters surged in, causing the expedition’s first casualties during the rapid advance.

Louisa ignored them entirely and burst through the surface.

But upon the vast ocean, aside from the boundless mist in the distance—

There was nothing at all.