This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

When the delegation steward Ronan followed the guiding dwarf soldiers to their assigned lodgings, his expression immediately darkened.

The stone houses were clean enough, but low and cramped. One had to bend at the waist just to pass through the doorway. The interior space was narrow, so much so that even the taller guards could barely stand upright. Even for the relatively petite Inanna, it felt uncomfortably confined.

“Isn’t this somewhat inappropriate?” Ronan suppressed his anger as he questioned the dwarf official in charge of reception. “This hardly seems like lodging suitable for humans.”

The dwarf official’s face was expressionless, his tone cold. “This is dwarven territory. All buildings are like this. If you find it uncomfortable… please bear with it.”

Ronan pointed toward a clearly human figure passing by at the far end of the alley. “Then what about them? How do they live?”

The dwarves had taken in quite a few human refugees fleeing from their side, so it was only natural to see humans within Ashfurnace City.

The dwarf official glanced over and replied flatly, “That I wouldn’t know. In any case, the lord’s residence does not maintain guest quarters specifically for humans.”

After giving a slight nod, he turned and left, abandoning the delegation to this humiliating arrangement.

What made matters even harder to endure was that not far from this row of stone houses lay Ashfurnace City’s largest public forging district.

Even after night fell, it remained ablaze with firelight. Massive bellows roared, and the clang of hammer on anvil rang out without pause through the entire night.

On the first evening, Ronan intended to go out and seek lodging among the city’s human merchants or influential figures. Even if it meant paying a high price, at the very least he wanted to secure a quieter place for Lady Inanna to rest.

Before he could act, however, Inanna softly called out to stop him.

“There’s no need, Ronan.” Her voice remained clear even amid the noise. She was holding the round little No. 4. “Little Four says it has a way.”

No. 4’s so-called solution was simply to plug her ears.

Surprisingly, it worked extremely well.

It extended two soft yet resilient mycelial tendrils and gently inserted them into Inanna’s ears, sealing every gap with meticulous care.

In the next moment, Inanna’s world sank into a deep, underwater-like silence. Apart from her own steady breathing and heartbeat, she could barely hear anything at all.

The only thing that disturbed her slightly throughout the night was No. 4 itself.

When it got bored, it would unconsciously start playing with Inanna’s hair, not forcefully, just on and off.

After getting used to it, that small disturbance instead became a reassuring presence, and Inanna soon drifted into sleep.

The other members of the delegation each relied on their own methods and managed, with difficulty, to get some rest amid the noise.

But the knight puji did not sleep.

In fact, ever since becoming a mushroom, Lin Jun no longer needed sleep at all.

The knight puji stood atop the roof. Within its sensory range, it detected several dwarven hidden sentries, all focused on monitoring the delegation’s residence.

They were merely watching, with no sign of further action.

They had also noticed the knight puji, of course. Lin Jun had never intended to hide it.

But since the knight puji simply stood there without doing anything, no dwarf stepped forward to interfere.

Through the knight puji, Lin Jun observed the public forge not far away.

Or more precisely, the dwarves moving in and out of it.

Thinking it through, Puji Fort indeed still lacked the ability to produce its own equipment.

The northern lands were not devoid of mineral resources.

While they could not compare to the abundant veins of the mountain ranges, they were sufficient for local use.

Lin Jun also lacked no means of extraction. Mining frozen ground might be difficult for other factions, but for the Mushroom Garden, which could mass-produce burrowing puji, it posed little challenge.

What was truly scarce were craftsmen who knew how to smelt crude ore, forge it, and temper it into quality armor and blades.

The many tribal peoples absorbed into the north hardly needed mentioning. Most had never even held a forging hammer in their lives. Even when they wore armor or carried weapons, these were usually old goods trickling out from the empire’s interior.

Humans did have skilled craftsmen, but such artisans were valued everywhere. The vast majority served lords directly.

Lin Jun could not simply take such craftsmen away as crudely as he did when replenishing “D-grade personnel.”

In human city-states, even leaving the city normally required reporting to guilds or lords. A sudden disappearance would inevitably draw official investigation.

One or two cases might be concealed, but once the numbers grew, secrecy would be impossible.

And a mere handful of craftsmen would be nothing more than a drop in the bucket for Puji Fort’s current scale.

For this reason, Lin Jun had never succeeded in “recruiting” a sufficient number of craftsmen from the human side.

But among the dwarves, the situation was entirely different.

From the knight puji’s observations, the dwarves busy around the public forge included plainly dressed commoners and richly adorned wealthy folk alike. There were men with thick beards and also many powerfully built women.

It would be an exaggeration to say all dwarves were master smiths, but clearly more than seventy percent possessed basic forging skills and experience.

This meant that among dwarves, “craftsman” was not a rare or special identity.

This realization revealed an opportunity to Lin Jun. He could safely draw manpower from here.

Of course, those legendary dwarven craftsmen capable of forging enchanted equipment or skill weapons would surely be closely guarded and protected.

But they were never Lin Jun’s target anyway.

What he needed were ordinary craftsmen who could mass-produce equipment for soldiers and puji.

How to recruit them, and how to transport them to the north across the empire, would require careful planning.

…

Early the next morning, Inanna stepped out of the stone house, bending slightly, with No. 4 in her arms. She stretched in the crisp morning light, breathing in air tinged with coal smoke. There was no sign of fatigue on her face; instead, she looked refreshed and radiant.

The rest of the delegation was far less fortunate.

Most had dark circles under their eyes and looked listless.

Aside from Inanna, the most energetic members of the delegation were No. 4 and the sword saint puji.

No. 4 had dutifully plugged Inanna’s ears through the night.

And Fourteen, as usual, had practiced swordsmanship all night long.

These days, Fourteen felt more and more that becoming a puji was truly a blessing. No need for sleep, no need for food, and a single bottle of mana potion restored all energy.

If daytime travel were not required, he would happily spend the entire day immersed in sword training.

He even felt that if he had become a puji earlier, his strength might have risen even higher.

…

The dwarves once again sent someone to meet the delegation. This time, it was no nameless underling, but the local lord’s son, young Bardley.

Although called “young,” his build, a full head broader and more robust than ordinary dwarves, was anything but small.

As soon as he arrived, he demanded to reverify the identities of everyone in the delegation, insisting on the use of multiple specialized detection spells to prevent spies.

And the first person he wanted to inspect was Inanna.

How could that be allowed?

Ordinary soldiers, even Ronan himself, could endure inspection. But what was Inanna’s status? How many magical tools and trump cards did she carry? How could those be exposed?

Yet no matter how Ronan explained, young Bardley maintained a hardline stance: submit to inspection, or return the way they came. It was obvious he was deliberately picking a fight.

After enduring inexplicable obstruction since entering the city, even Ronan’s composure finally cracked. Veins bulged at his temples as he snapped,

“Privately harassing an allied delegation, how do you intend to explain this to your superiors later?”

Young Bardley laughed. “Watch your accusations. You’ve made peace with the demon races, but we dwarves are still fighting on the front lines. Naturally, we must be vigilant against spies. How is that harassment? As for allies… heh.”

Ronan clenched his teeth, helpless.

Conflict could not be allowed to erupt. They had come to negotiate. If things escalated, justified or not, this mission would be largely ruined.

Entering the mountain realms did not require passing through Ashfurnace City specifically. At worst, they could detour through another border city.

But that would cost time.

Just as Ronan was struggling with the situation, Inanna, standing behind him, calmly nodded to herself and stepped forward two paces. She looked directly at young Bardley with her pink eyes and spoke each word clearly:

“I believe you are insulting me. Therefore, I challenge you to an honor duel. According to the traditions of the mountains, you must either apologize and cease your harassment, or accept this challenge.”

“Of course, as a noble, I will send a representative to fight in my place…”

As she spoke, Inanna lifted the sword saint puji and placed it before a stunned young Bardley…