This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

When the main force followed Louisa in charging out, a portion of the soldiers still remained behind to deal with the surrendered snakefolk prisoners.

Each snakefolk prisoner was fitted with a puji shackle—essentially a puji hung on their back, restraining both of their arms.

The soldier waved his hand, signaling for the next snakefolk to step forward.

That snakefolk lowered his head, dragging his tail as he slowly swam over, his eyes dull and lifeless, clearly having already resigned himself to his fate.

“Hai?” the soldier suddenly spoke, calling out a name.

The snakefolk lifted his head in confusion and looked at the half-demon soldier’s face. He had no impression of him at all.

“As expected, you don’t remember,” the soldier tugged at the corner of his mouth in self-mockery. “That’s normal. Back then you were a senior warrior of a large snakefolk tribe. We were only a mid-sized tribe, and I was just an ordinary soldier. I only saw you a couple of times during resource trades. It’d be strange if you did remember me.”

“Half-demon tribe… the Northern Border?” The snakefolk froze for a long moment before reacting. “You… actually joined the Empire ahead of time and didn’t perish in that great cold wave!”

Even now, he firmly believed that these soldiers belonged to the regular army of some Imperial lord. After all, tribes from the Northern Border didn’t have the ability to sail out to sea.

What’s more, as far as he knew, the Northern Border had already become a forbidden zone for life due to that catastrophic temperature drop that swept across the land. Even several frontier cities of the Empire were now mostly abandoned, with scarcely any people left.

If even Imperial cities had fallen to that state, the fate of those tribes that had already been struggling in the bitter cold was easy to imagine.

Either they had pledged allegiance to the Empire early on in exchange for protection, or entire clans had frozen into ice sculptures amid endless wind and snow.

Because of this, even though the snakefolk tribes’ situation within the Empire had turned out far worse than expected, they still secretly felt fortunate about their original choice—at least they had survived.

Now, suddenly encountering an “old acquaintance” from tribal times, he naturally assumed the other party must have likewise attached themselves to the Empire in order to endure.

However, after listening to him, the half-demon soldier looked as though he’d just heard an enormous joke and laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.

It took him quite a while to finally stop laughing. He reached out and patted the snakefolk on the shoulder.

“Forget it… you’ll understand on your own later. It’s just a pity—you chose the Empire back then. You really missed the best timing.”

The puji shackle had already been secured. The soldier casually waved his hand, signaling for this former senior warrior to swim over to the prisoner group on his own.

Hai the snakefolk felt completely bewildered, but as a prisoner, he ultimately didn’t dare ask more questions and could only turn around in silence.

Just as he slowly swam toward the prisoners, on the other side, a diamond-tier snakefolk warrior he knew, seeing that the half-demon soldiers no longer kept strict watch after finishing the bindings and that the main force had temporarily departed, suddenly gave rise to thoughts of breaking free and escaping.

He exploded with strength, his body shooting out like an arrow, charging straight toward the dungeon exit!

The muscles in his arms bulged as the mycelial tentacles wrapped around him began to show signs of tearing under his brute force.

Hai watched that rapidly retreating figure, his heart pounding uncontrollably.

If he could escape… then maybe I could too…

“Sigh, there’s always one of these idiots,” came the calm sigh of a half-demon soldier from behind.

Only then did Hai realize that none of the guards around them had even stood up to give chase.

The fleeing snakefolk erupted with tremendous strength and finally snapped the tentacles binding him!

Then, with a boom, he exploded into chunks of all sizes.

Shattered scales, broken bones, and bloody scraps slowly sank down in front of the many pale-faced snakefolk.

Hai obediently swam into the prisoner group, while carefully forcing his tense body to relax, afraid that a single careless movement might snap the mycelial tentacles on him…

…

Lin Jun didn’t pay any attention to the loss of one diamond-tier prisoner.

It was simply normal attrition from killing a chicken to scare the monkeys.

Similar probing and purges would happen several more times during the subsequent intake phase.

After that, these snakefolk would gradually be transformed into qualified Puji Fort prisoners, willingly throwing themselves into the great construction of the Mushroom Garden in exchange for freedom, contributing every ounce of their strength.

Compared to the prisoners, Lin Jun’s attention was almost entirely focused on the seal before him.

Outside the dungeon, soldiers were clearing out wandering fog monsters while spreading out across the surrounding sea, trying to search for any traces the ship might have left behind.

However, Lin Jun no longer held much hope for that.

Judging by the seal’s condition, it looked like one corner had been damaged by that strange item seized by the knight puji, but the overall structure was still functioning.

Yet from the chaotic magic constantly leaking out of the damaged area, if left unattended, collapse seemed to be only a matter of time.

The problem was—Lin Jun didn’t know how to fix it!

Or rather, did anyone actually know how to repair a seal inside a dungeon?

Speaking of which, what was going on with this Tidal Sanctum anyway?

His own puji dungeon core had two gatekeepers, yet this place was completely empty, letting anyone come and go, relying purely on an invisible barrier to block entry?

He spread his perception outward. Aside from a broken, enormous metal ring, there was nothing special at all.

After pondering for a moment, Lin Jun still notified the old fishman and asked him to come take a look.

In truth, the Yellow Book was the most likely to know anything about repairing seals.

But Lin Jun didn’t dare take the risk. If that damned book suddenly went insane and decided to stake its own existence to release its former master, that would be disastrous.

Norris and Ming also hurried over from the rear at this time.

Ming looked extremely dejected. He felt that he’d barely been any help this time and probably wouldn’t receive praise from Boss.

He was still a weak little mushroomkin who needed Big Brother Norris to look after him… he had to become stronger, strong enough to truly be of use to Boss!

While waiting, Lin Jun suddenly sensed an unusual fluctuation of magic.

Its source was… inside the seal!

Was the leaked magic being used by the Demon King inside the seal to cast a spell?

But with magic that thin… what could possibly be cast?

Despite his doubts, the knight puji, Norris, and Ming all went on alert immediately.

The knight’s tentacles lifted slightly. Ming tensed his entire body. The Jida controlled by Norris had already charged its resonance cannon to the brim, the barrel faintly trembling, ready to fire at any moment.

Time passed slowly in silence.

Lin Jun could clearly sense that the magic beneath the seal was gradually taking shape.

What made it uncomfortable was that there was nothing he could do. A seal stood between them—he couldn’t exactly “break the seal first in order to interrupt the Demon King’s spellcasting,” could he?

The main force was already on its way. If the Demon King really did break through the seal, then… they’d assess the opponent’s strength and decide from there.

As the magic beneath the seal finished forming, something drilled its way out.

The knight puji was poised to strike. Ming clenched his fists. Norris had fully charged the resonance cannon, ready to fire at any instant.

Finally, the faint glow on the surface of the seal wavered, and something slowly seeped out from within.

All eyes locked onto that single point.

In the atmosphere stretched taut like a drawn bowstring, a gelatinous, wavering phantom floated out beyond the seal.

Lin Jun recognized the spell. A second-tier imaging spell.

It had no offensive power whatsoever. It wasn’t even a solid projection. It was so crude that it would be useless even for deceiving enemies.

That made sense—using that little leaked magic, it would have been impossible to cast anything threatening.

Their earlier readiness had simply been due to the oppressive weight carried by the name “Demon King.”

Still… what exactly was this phantom?

Ming blinked and muttered softly, “A slime?”

The phantom turned around.

“That’s rude, young man. I’m clearly a magma-slime person… wah, since when could puji go underwater?!”