This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

At this moment, the ennoblement of a new meritorious noble carried special significance for boosting morale, and publicity efforts naturally followed.

Of course, what was made public was limited to the heroic deed of Veyra’s team stepping forward in a moment of crisis and successfully preventing the fog from swallowing Gold Valley City. The truth about him bearing a “virtue” was kept under strict secrecy.

After all, even thinking about it with one’s backside made it obvious that once the matter of virtues was exposed, the demon race would certainly try to eliminate Veyra before he had a chance to fully grow.

Despite suddenly obtaining a title others could only dream of, the three of them were far from as overjoyed as outsiders imagined.

Veyra himself felt undeserving, his heart uneasy.

Phylline and Fein, meanwhile, were more worried about him than anything else.

Phylline even went so far as to suspect, somewhat extreme though it was, that Duke Lorenzo might not have had entirely good intentions. Perhaps he merely wanted to shove heavy responsibility onto Veyra, so that in the future he could be forced to use the power of “sacrifice” at critical moments.

From a certain perspective, Phylline’s suspicion was not entirely without reason.

However, from Lorenzo’s standpoint, what he saw was the survival of the United Kingdom and the future of humanity.

Allowing a virtue bearer with boundless potential to waste his talents wandering the wilderness as an adventurer would be the true mistake and loss.

Just as the three of them were each weighed down by their own worries, an old adventurer companion who had come to offer congratulations brought news that completely exceeded their expectations.

Syrian was still alive.

“Absolutely true! I saw him with my own eyes a few days ago at the puji home in Mordu! I was even wondering why your party had split up. Turns out you were scattered after running into the fog!”

It wasn’t that Veyra’s group had never posted commissions to search for Syrian. But in an era where information still relied on notices and word of mouth, unless state-level power was mobilized, news simply couldn’t reach most people.

At the very least, this adventurer friend clearly knew nothing about what Veyra’s team had gone through or their search efforts.

The sudden news filled all three with joy.

There was no need to mention Phylline and Fein. Every bit of their time adventuring with Syrian was still vivid in their memories, and they had only survived the fog thanks to him.

Now that they knew he was safe, although there were many questions, their happiness was beyond doubt.

As for Veyra, although he had lost all memory related to the elf, he had heard plenty about him from Phylline and Fein during this time, and he had a very positive impression of this druid teammate described by the twins.

What’s more, though the hope was slim, he still harbored a faint wish that seeing Syrian again might trigger some forgotten memory.

However, with the ennoblement ceremony approaching, the three of them couldn’t very well leave Oathbound City to search for Syrian. They could only ask acquaintances to pass along a message if they encountered him, arranging to meet again in Mordu.

What they didn’t know was that Syrian was already on his way to Oathbound City.

After laying things bare with the puji, Syrian had obtained a new pathfinding ability. Finding Veyra’s location was now extremely easy.

…

Somewhere in the wilderness between Mordu and Oathbound City.

After dismounting, Syrian patted his horse’s neck and let it graze nearby, while he himself sought out an area thickly covered in mycelium.

“puji, come out!”

The mycelial carpet immediately began to writhe. Dense strands of fungus rapidly converged, and soon the rag-like voice puji popped out.

However, before Lin Jun could speak, Syrian reacted swiftly. He shot out a finger and pinched that ragged “mouth,” forcibly blocking the terrifying sound wave that was about to burst forth.

Letting that sound out would be unbearable for his ears, and the nearby horse would likely panic and bolt without looking back, fleeing this eerie fungal field.

They switched directly to mental communication.

“Where are they now?”

“Still in Oathbound City,” the puji navigator answered honestly. “But they went to that human Relic Association. The sacrifice thing got exposed!”

At the mention of this, a lingering irritation seeped through Lin Jun’s mental voice.

If not for that damned Divine Tree insisting on sticking with Veyra’s team, Lin Jun would have already drawn this promising trio into the mushroom garden as a hidden trump card. How could he have allowed such critical information about a virtue to leak to outsiders?

He had even planned out the script.

Lin Jun would feed them well, keep them comfortable and happy.

If everything went smoothly, everyone would have a bright future.

If one day they encountered an unbeatable enemy, he would throw the twins out to fall into the enemy’s clutches, then let Veyra unleash his virtue and beat the enemy senseless. Perfect.

Lin Jun himself would suffer a bit and take on the infamy of sacrificing others for his own ends.

Unfortunately, the Divine Tree wouldn’t let him interfere further.

Now, he could only watch helplessly as that short, chubby duke locked Veyra down with a mere viscount title.

Tch. What’s a viscount worth anyway?

He had dealt with more than a few imperial viscounts already. Trying to bind sacrifice with such a paltry incentive?

It made Lin Jun seethe.

Hearing that the sacrifice had been exposed, Syrian wasn’t particularly surprised, only somewhat resigned about Veyra’s almost predictable future.

He then pressed the voice puji back into the mycelium and continued toward Oathbound City.

However, when Syrian finally arrived, dusty and travel-worn, and saw Veyra—who had just completed the ennoblement ceremony—

The reunion scene was… slightly different from what he had imagined.

…

“Veyra! I finally found you!”

The elf’s clear voice rang out ahead.

Veyra, who had been subconsciously tugging at the collar of his brand-new noble attire and lamenting how uncomfortable it was compared to leather armor, looked up at the sound—and froze on the spot.

It was a beauty beyond anything he had ever seen.

The elf simply stood there, and the air around him seemed to become clearer.

Yet Veyra did not remain lost in that shock for long.

Very soon, fragments of dreams he had almost forgotten seemed to overlap with the reality before his eyes.

Smiling, Syrian stepped forward and opened his arms, intending to give his long-lost teammate a warm embrace.

Veyra suddenly shuddered. His body reacted before his mind—

He took half a step back.

The elf’s outstretched arms froze midair, the brilliant smile stiffening into a look of confusion.

Naturally, the surrounding crowd’s attention was drawn to the pairing of the newly ennobled viscount and the beautiful elf. Witnessing this awkward scene, more curious and probing gazes gathered.

No doubt, tonight all sorts of gossip would spread through Oathbound City’s taverns.

Number Five had originally been trying to climb up Veyra’s cloak, aiming to reclaim its familiar spot atop his head.

But the moment it saw Syrian, its mushroom body trembled instinctively, like a small animal encountering a natural predator. With a whoosh, it shrank back behind Veyra, only daring to peek out with half a mushroom cap.

puji?!

Syrian had a few guesses, his smile growing increasingly strained.

Fortunately, this suffocating awkwardness did not last long.

“Syrian! It really is you!” Phylline and Fein rushed up from behind, one on each side, tightly hugging the companion they had once believed lost to the fog forever.

Phylline’s eyes reddened as she struggled to hold back tears, while Fein completely lost control of her emotions, burying her face into Syrian’s shoulder and unceremoniously wiping tears and snot all over his clothes.

Only then did Veyra scratch the back of his head, forcing down that inexplicable chill rising in his chest. With apology and uncertainty, he tentatively called out the name:

“Sy… Syrian?”

“What’s going on with him…?”

The twins quickly explained how Veyra had triggered the virtue of sacrifice and suffered memory loss.

“So,” Syrian said quietly after listening, his gaze returning to Veyra, his tone complicated, “you just forgot me?”

Veyra nodded awkwardly. He didn’t mention the strange nightmares he’d had about him afterward.

It was too embarrassing to say out loud. He chalked it up to side effects of using sacrifice.

“I also noticed,” Syrian changed the subject, his gaze casually sweeping past Veyra’s back, “that you seem to have gained a small new companion?”

Using Phylline’s introduction of Number Five as an opening, Syrian extended his hand and gently lifted the puji that was trying to hide and clearly unwilling.

On the surface, it looked like a friendly introduction to a new teammate.

In mental communication—

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Eek—! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I don’t know anything!” The sudden mental exchange scared Number Five half to death. Its entire body trembled violently as it curled inward, and in the blink of an eye, it rolled itself into a shivering puji ball.

Syrian: “…”

It took him a moment to confirm that the terrified little thing in his palm was not the one whose voice could kill.

Yet on the level of soul perception, the two were almost identical.

A sunstone?

Actually splitting its own soul…

Madman.

…

Elsewhere, Lin Jun contentedly crossed off the first record of the Divine Tree calling his voice unpleasant.