This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

The political structure of the dwarves was completely different from that of humans.

Human nations were centered around ducal territories, forming the United Kingdom through alliances.

The dwarves, however, were rooted in far tighter blood ties—clans.

On the surface, regional lords held administrative authority over their territories and commanded military forces, wielding considerable power. Yet the true authority that determined the fate of the Mountains was always firmly in the hands of the leaders of the major clans and the council of elders. An individual lord was merely one part of a clan.

At present, the dwarves who controlled the lifeblood of the Mountains were mainly divided among four great clans:

The Deepfurnace Clan, which possessed numerous secret forging techniques as well as part of the technology for ancient war constructs.

The Firebeard Clan, inheritors of the War God’s bloodline and the sharpest battle-axes of the Mountains.

The Blacksteel Clan, which controlled nearly half of the kingdom’s rare mineral veins and could even arm an entire clan’s second-line forces from head to toe, their equipment the most exquisite among the dwarves.

And the Zafa Clan, inheritors of arcane secrets and wisdom.

Of course, the Mountains were not home to only these four clans, but compared to them, the others had a much weaker presence.

Forgefire Capital, the core heartland of the Deepfurnace Clan’s settlements.

Inside a grand estate built on black stone and adorned with bronze, a fireplace burned quietly in the study, casting flickering light across the ancient battle-axes hanging on the walls and the forging schematics spread out nearby.

Vimark Deepfurnace stood before his desk, slowly rubbing a letter whose edges were slightly curled and whose handwriting was rough and hurried.

“You’re looking at that letter the lower-level craftsmen submitted again?” the clan head’s voice came from behind him.

Vimark carefully folded the letter and tucked it away before turning to face the figure at the doorway, whose posture was slightly stooped but whose presence remained imposing.

“Father, this is ultimately the only lead we’ve received since Torin went missing. I’ve compared the handwriting many times—it’s definitely his. I plan to send a reliable team to investigate the location mentioned in the letter.”

“What’s there to investigate?” the clan head snorted, stepping closer as the firelight illuminated the deep lines on his face. “Most likely he fell into the hands of the demon race and was turned into bait, using such a crude and laughable method to try to trick our craftsmen into walking into a trap.”

“As for that useless Torin… when he fell into human hands last time, he already made the clan lose face. Now he’s fallen into demon hands again and is helping them harm his own people. Just assume he’s already died in the dungeon.”

Vimark was silent for a moment, then still said, “He’s my younger brother—your son. This time he encountered an elemental riot; it wasn’t Torin’s fault. Let me at least try.”

“Do as you like,” the clan head snorted. “But don’t let it interfere with important matters. Negotiations with the human delegation must come first.”

He turned and began speaking of the real business at hand.

“According to the information Duvalin sent back, that human called Inanna has an extremely special ability. She might help us reclaim the Moltenfire Dungeon more quickly.”

“Since the elemental riot, losing that resource has forced the clan to both supply massive amounts of equipment to the front lines and maintain its own consumption. Our stockpiles of magic crystals, ores, and rare materials are being steadily depleted. We can’t miss this opportunity—we must persuade her.”

“Yes, Father,” Vimark nodded slightly. “However, regarding escorting her into the dungeon, how much force do we plan to deploy on our side? After all, we’ll be facing that fire elemental lord directly. If fighting breaks out deep inside—”

“Duvalin’s legion will ensure her safety along the way. As for close protection…” The clan head lifted a bronze goblet from the table and took a sip of the strong liquor inside. “That Inanna is revered among humans as a ‘war hero,’ isn’t she? Conveniently enough, don’t we also have a ‘war hero’ of our own?”

“Let a hero guard a hero. Nothing could be more fitting.”

“That guy, huh…”

…

After the knight puji returned, Lin Jun noticed that the dwarves were hosting the delegation at a fairly high level. They even brought out their prized magical constructs to pour tea for Inanna and guide the way.

However, in Lin Jun’s view, the technical sophistication of these things was rather awkward.

The magical construct’s movements were stiff and mechanical. Every action depended on a nearby dwarf operator, who had to constantly issue commands via control plates to make it move.

Rather than a true magical construct, it was more like a slightly complex remote-controlled toy.

Although Lin Jun couldn’t directly view the attribute panels of inanimate objects, judging from its sluggish movements and the somewhat stagnant flow of mana inside, this construct’s combat capability likely didn’t even reach basic bronze rank. Its practicality was extremely limited.

Not to mention comparing it to the two fully S-rank units guarding the puji dungeon core entrance—even compared to the war constructs excavated from the northern ruins, it lagged behind by more than a single tier.

In terms of actual usefulness, Lin Jun felt it would be far more convenient to have a puji master directly control an ordinary puji.

At least puji possessed basic intelligence and could understand and execute relatively complex instructions, unlike this thing, which required the operator’s full concentration to remotely control every single action. The dwarf operator maintaining appearances already had beads of sweat visible on his brow, unable to hide his fatigue.

Clearly, what the Yellow Book had once said about dwarven war construct technology being lost was no exaggeration.

Just as the delegation, led by dwarven officials, was preparing to head to the council hall for another round of talks, a loud and hearty laugh approached from afar.

“Hahahaha! Let me see, let me see! This is the human war hero? And she’s actually a woman!”

Accompanied by heavy footsteps, a figure like a moving small fortress blocked the delegation’s path—more precisely, he stopped right in front of Inanna.

He was larger and more powerfully built than ordinary dwarves, his muscles stretching the mithril chain shirt he wore. A giant hammer longer than his own height was slung diagonally across his back. His thick, fiery-red beard was braided into several coarse plaits, and his bronze-toned face was filled with undisguised curiosity and scrutiny as he looked at Inanna.

“Inanna, right? A pleasure, a pleasure!”

Bardo completely ignored the slightly awkward expression of the delegation official beside him. He stretched out his gauntleted hand as if to clap Inanna on the shoulder in a show of friendliness, then seemed to remember at the last moment that she was a woman and instead awkwardly patted the air.

“I’m Bardo Firebeard. Around the Mountains, people also call me ‘the Pulverizer’ or ‘Demonbane,’ hahaha! I heard you’ve also fought the demon race over there and won some fine battles? Good! I like dealing with real warriors!”

The dwarf official responsible for guiding them cleared his throat and reminded him tactfully, “Lord Bardo, the delegation still needs to attend negotiations. Perhaps—”

“Negotiations? Why rush such bookish nonsense!” Bardo waved a hand dismissively. “Just a few words! I’m getting acquainted with our human hero first!”

He turned enthusiastically back to Inanna and spoke familiarly.

“Let me tell you, Lady Inanna—the demon race brats may look fierce, but they’re actually brittle as hell! Just last battle at Blackrock Pass, I led my boys in a single charge and tore open the defenses of three hundred-man units! I personally smashed their self-important commander—he was riding some ugly abyss lizard, and I crushed both man and mount into meat paste with one swing…”

He went on and on, vividly describing the details of the battle, spit practically flying as pride shone in his eyes.

Lin Jun didn’t know whether what he said was true, but the panel did show him at LV70, lord-tier strength.

And judging by the luster of his beard, his age likely wasn’t over forty.

“By the way,” Bardo leaned forward slightly, finally asking what he truly cared about, “that big battle at Dragonroar Valley—how were your results? How many demon brats did you kill? And how many officers worth mentioning did you personally take down?”

Everyone present could clearly feel the competitive intent he failed to hide.

Inanna froze slightly and thought about it seriously.

The Battle of Dragonroar Valley… she had cast the crucial illumination spell, then spent most of the time hiding inside an armored puji. In the end, she handed the Sunstone over to the boss.

As for personally killing enemies… perhaps one or two ordinary demon soldiers were taken out by her spells under the automatic pursuit of elemental spirits…

She answered honestly, “Probably one or two.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the anticipation on Bardo’s face rapidly turned into undisguised disappointment—and even… contempt.

“Oh, I see.” He dragged out the words, nodding, the enthusiasm in his voice gone. “I get it. You’re the type who stays in the back directing others to charge, hides somewhere safe yourself, and then gets all the credit in the end, right?”

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing a nearly mocking expression. All the previous warmth and friendliness seemed as if they had never existed.

“Tch.” He turned away, his voice not loud, yet clearly audible to everyone. “Thought you’d be someone who could actually lift a hammer.”

The Sword Saint puji’s tentacles slowly wrapped around his sword hilt.

He wanted an honor duel.

The sudden surge of fighting intent from behind made Bardo’s eyes light up. He quickly locked his gaze onto the Sword Saint puji, showing no contempt despite the puji’s appearance.

“I heard Little Bardley got thoroughly trounced by a Mushroomfolk with a dagger. That must’ve been you, huh? You do look like you’ve got some real skill!” As he spoke, his hand moved to the hammer handle on his back.

Just as it seemed a fight was about to break out—

“Gentlemen.”

Vimark Deepfurnace appeared at some point between the puji and Bardo.

“I imagine neither of you intends to start fighting right here, in the core area of Forgefire Capital.”

He turned to the dwarven hero.

“Lord Bardo, last week you ‘instructed’ Master Mark in the public forging district, leaving him bedridden for three days. The clan council’s punishment for that incident has not yet been finalized. At a time like this, I believe it would be best if you… temporarily restrained your excessive energy and refrained from causing further trouble.”

The excitement on Bardo’s face was doused with cold water. He curled his lip and muttered in a voice only those nearby could hear, “Tch… that old guy brought it on himself.”

But he was clearly wary of the “clan council punishment” Vimark mentioned. In the end, he could only turn away in irritation and leave.

Vimark watched him go, then turned back to Inanna and the rest of the delegation, wearing a polite smile.

“My apologies for the spectacle. Lord Bardo has a rather straightforward personality. Please don’t take it to heart. The meeting has already been prepared—please follow me.”