This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

The environmental changes caused by the mushrooms were, in truth, not something Lin Jun had intended.

At present, most of Lin Jun’s mycelial carpets were in a state of autonomous growth and expansion.

However, as his territory continued to expand, the mycelial network encountered a new problem: a natural upper limit to magical energy transmission.

Even though Lin Jun had already constructed multilayered underground mycelial channels—like laying down vast magical pipelines—in an effort to maximize overall transmission capacity, he still could not gather one hundred percent of the magic generated across all regions back into the puji dungeon for centralized use.

This issue was not very apparent in areas close to the northern Puji Fort or the puji dungeon.

Those two locations were Lin Jun’s primary magic consumption hubs. Skill allocation for his subordinates and the creation of higher-grade puji were almost entirely carried out there, allowing nearly all generated magic to be fully utilized.

However, in more distant frontier regions—such as this territory now named Mistveil Hold—the situation was different.

When the magic generated by the local mycelial carpet became excessive and could not be fully transported back to the dungeon, the surplus magic gradually accumulated within the local mycelium.

If human activity existed in the area, with mushroom fields being cultivated and harvested regularly, this excess magic would naturally be converted into batches of edible mushrooms, collected and consumed, thus forming a new equilibrium.

But in a place like Mistveil Hold, which had undergone a period of abandonment and lack of management, the situation spiraled out of control.

Once the concentration of magic accumulated within the local mycelium exceeded a certain critical threshold, it would spontaneously give rise to various special mushroom variants specifically designed to consume excess magic.

Thus, fluorescent mushroom trees shot up from the ground, petrifying mushrooms formed dense forests, and in certain corners, even more dangerous corrosive mushroom clusters might emerge.

These bizarre and even hazardous phenomena were, in essence, nothing more than forced magic dissipation behaviors—local mycelium suffering from overproduction with nowhere to redirect the surplus.

They were simply very unfriendly to the humans living there.

Solving the problem itself was actually quite simple.

Either production could be restored by opening large-scale mushroom fields to consume the excess magical output,

or Lin Jun could personally intervene, consciously guiding the local mycelium to convert surplus magic into relatively harmless giant mushroom trees or other controllable forms.

Naturally, the mushroomfolk, as extensions of Lin Jun’s will, also possessed partial authority over mycelial control.

Veyra and his companions did not fully understand the complex principles behind this magical circulation, but Syrian quickly noticed the issue of magic surplus.

Under his guidance, half of the task of restoring the territory’s environment fell upon the small Number Five.

The other half involved urging Veyra to organize the local residents to reopen mushroom fields as soon as possible, using conventional consumption to redirect excess magic.

It had to be said that readily available food fostered laziness to some extent.

With the local mycelium saturated with magic, not only did it produce strange special mushrooms, but ordinary edible mushrooms—and even delicious mushrooms—grew everywhere.

With the population reduced by nearly forty percent, residents only needed to take a short walk outside to gather enough fresh mushrooms to feed an entire family.

Over time, many people grew comfortable becoming idle, losing motivation to cultivate the land. This only worsened the buildup of magical energy in the mycelium, giving rise to even more mutated mushrooms and forming a vicious cycle.

To reignite the residents’ enthusiasm for production, Veyra and Steward Harold exhausted every possible approach, running about to coordinate efforts.

In the end, Veyra used his authority as lord to purchase all mushrooms gathered by the residents in large quantities, and allowed them to exchange mushrooms for cloth, salt, sugar, and other goods at relatively favorable rates.

This mushroom-for-goods system barely managed to get the residents to pick up their tools again and head toward the fields awaiting cultivation.

The purchased mushrooms piled up like mountains. Through Duke Lorenzo’s connections, Veyra contacted several merchant guilds.

Some mushrooms were transported to the front line to supply military provisions, while others were sent to regions with poor magic density and low mushroom yields.

The former sold at very low prices, while the latter incurred long-distance transport costs and risks.

After all the calculations, Veyra barely made any profit from the entire chain.

But profit had never been his goal. As long as he could resolve the issue of “mushrooms advancing while people retreat,” and restore ecological balance to the territory, that was enough.

Accompanied by Syrian, Phylline, and Fein, Number Five waddled on its short legs as it began inspecting the territory.

Wherever it went, mushroom trees that released hallucinogenic spores and petrifying mushrooms that turned everything around them to stone were dissolved back into the mycelium under its control. They were replaced with tall but harmless giant mushroom trees.

If Lin Jun had personally taken action, relying on his comprehensive control over the mycelium, he could probably have completed the entire territory’s mushroom replacement in one or two days—without even using magic acceleration.

But Number Five’s abilities were ultimately limited. Lacking a bird’s-eye perception of the whole area, it could only patiently transform one small region at a time, like a diligent gardener.

Even so, its results were more than enough to astonish Phylline and Fein, who surrounded it with constant praise for how capable it was.

Fein even spent a significant portion of her savings to purchase a precious mind-speech stone, solely to communicate more smoothly with Number Five.

The hardened petrified ground cracked apart again and again, as towering giant mushroom trees over thirty meters tall burst forth one after another, replacing the former cold petrified mushroom forest.

“This is wonderful! Number Five, it’s all thanks to you!” Fein said happily, gently patting Number Five’s round mushroom cap, producing soft puffing sounds.

“Hehehe…” Number Five’s cap glowed faintly with happiness.

These recent days were perhaps the happiest period since its birth.

Back among the mushroomfolk, it had always been the most inconspicuous one. It feared combat and had poor battle instincts. Aside from being a step faster than other mushrooms when it came to running away, it had little worth mentioning.

The other mushrooms never bullied it, but neither did anyone pay it much attention or praise it.

It could only follow behind Big Brother Number One, quietly blending into the background.

When the fungus lord suddenly assigned it a mission and sent it alone to follow this unfamiliar group of human adventurers, Number Five’s heart had been filled with anxiety and fear.

Leaving its familiar kin and entering a completely unknown environment, it feared doing poorly, feared being disliked, feared disappointing the fungus lord’s expectations.

Fortunately, Veyra and the others were kind and accepted it.

And now…

Looking at the mushroom forest it had personally transformed, and hearing Phylline and Fein sincerely praising “Little Five is amazing,” it felt a sense of fulfillment it had never experienced before.

It was needed. It was acknowledged.

It was useful here.

It sat atop Fein’s head, gently curling one tentacle around her finger while pointing with another toward the next hallucinogenic spore forest awaiting treatment. Its mushroom body stood straight, brimming with motivation.

This place was where it belonged.

Syrian rode over from a nearby slope and waved at the twins. “Come back and eat first! We’ll continue with the rest this afternoon.”

Hearing Syrian’s voice, the Number Five that had just been standing tall and energetic immediately slid off Fein’s head and slipped straight into her loose mage robe.

It was still afraid of that non-mushroom who shouted at it the moment they met.

…

While Number Five had found its place, Number Thirteen had fallen into confusion.

Lin Jun had thrown it into the fallen zone of the western coast.

As far as it could see, the land was barren, with no trace of mycelial carpet.

Worse still, among the jagged rock shadows in the distance, one or two jelly-like slimes would occasionally hop by.

In the mushroomfolk’s sense of likes and dislikes, such creatures were the very embodiment of “evil.”

The fungus lord had not given it any clear task instructions—he had simply abandoned it here.

Number Thirteen stood alone, sensing the unfamiliar and hostile environment, and could not help but think:

Did the fungus lord… abandon me?