This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

In the ducal manor’s training grounds, Inanna stretched her limbs, glanced back at the line of pujis behind her, and took two deep breaths.

“This time it’s going to work!”

She raised her staff, its head embedded with a large A-grade magic crystal.

“Pujis Carrying Technique!”

Though she shouted the name with confidence, what actually emerged from the staff was, once again, a water serpent.

Yet under Inanna’s will, guided by the blessing of [Favor of the Elemental Spirit], the water serpent began to transform in an odd way.

It coiled around her waist, its head meeting its tail to form a floating liquid hoop.

Then, from the hoop’s surface, more than a dozen water threads extended, lashing outward to bind each of the nearby pujis.

Unfortunately, after tethering thirteen pujis, no new threads could form.

Still, Inanna was satisfied—at least it hadn’t snapped apart like in her earlier attempts.

She broke into a run. The pujis dangled behind her like kites—not from wind, but from the water threads that lifted them off the ground.

She kept running until she grew tired, and not once did the pujis bump into each other.

When Inanna stopped, panting for breath, the water threads gently lowered each puji back to the ground.

Next, she tested another function. She commanded one puji to scamper away. The water thread stretched longer and longer—until, at nearly ten meters, it reached its limit and snapped the puji back toward her. It bounced safely onto the water ring, the impact neatly absorbed.

Seeing this, Inanna couldn’t hold back her excitement. She jumped up, waving toward the butler standing at the edge of the training yard.

“Eric! Did you see that? I did it! I created a new spell!”

Eric nodded warmly, his face full of encouragement. He didn’t have the heart to explain what really qualified as a new spell.

A “new spell,” in formal magical terms, had to be universal—something any mage with the right affinity could learn and cast.

But Inanna, with her absurd cheat-like [Favor of the Elemental Spirit], could twist and reshape elemental magic freely just by spending enough time tinkering. Technically impressive, yes—but it didn’t count as new magic.

Of course, Eric would never say that aloud. Crushing the young lady’s enthusiasm would serve no purpose.

Still…

He rubbed his temples as he watched the floating pujis bobbing behind her.

Again with the pujis…

At first, he had assumed that her attachment came from trauma—after that underground incident, she might simply need the creatures as emotional comfort. He’d thought the phase would pass naturally.

But instead, her obsession had only grown.

When she went out, her pujis outnumbered her guards. Around the manor, she only played with them, ignoring the maids her age he’d arranged to keep her company. Even at night, she insisted on sleeping surrounded by pujis.

And now, she was developing magic purely so she could run around with them more easily, making up for their short little legs.

Eric began to regret allowing this indulgence. He suspected he’d made a mistake.

Recent intelligence had made things worse—reports hinted that these pujis might not be mere magical mutants after all.

The unknown always meant danger. And Eric’s foremost duty was to protect his lady’s safety.

External threats were easy enough—he’d already purged the household of spies and replaced much of the staff. No assassin could slip in unnoticed now.

But changing the young lady’s own mind? That was another battle entirely.

Like trying to take a toy from a child without making her cry.

He didn’t want to hurt her. And the situation wasn’t yet desperate enough to warrant harsh measures.

Still, he was troubled.

So too was the situation at the front. Yesterday’s scheduled communication with the duke hadn’t gone through. Given what the duke had told him before about the frontlines, Eric could only pray that the signal failure was just an equipment issue—not that Highkeep Fortress had fallen.

Then, the badge in his breast pocket suddenly trembled—the signal for an incoming transmission.

Glancing once more toward the courtyard, where Inanna still laughed and played with the pujis, he turned and hurried off.

In the communications chamber, the report he received was the second worst possible news—

Highkeep Fortress has fallen. Duke Arama is gravely injured.

It’s over!

As the man in charge of all of Arama’s rear-line affairs, Eric understood the situation instantly.

Previously, Highkeep Fortress and Three-Mount City had supported each other, each holding off a separate demon army.

Now that Highkeep had fallen, the demons could regroup, join forces, and crush the remaining troops at Three-Mount.

And worse, Three-Mount was already at its limit. The city’s defense relied on a massive magic array that constantly drained mana—it had no capacity to retreat. They were trapped in a dead end.

If the Sword Saint, Brennus, and the newly arrived Archbishop Ditas—along with the army—were annihilated at Three-Mount, it wouldn’t just be a loss of power.

It would shatter human morale.

Under demon rule, humans could never live well. Even those offered the chance to become vampires usually couldn’t bring their families with them. The demon dukes were capricious; promises were often broken.

So most humans, even facing death, still chose to fight on—for the sake of their families and the hope of a better future.

But once hope was gone… people’s choices would change. And when soldiers began to give up, the kingdom’s fall would only accelerate.

Eric thought rapidly through his options.

A new group of puji masters had been recruited recently, but training wasn’t finished. At this point, though, he couldn’t wait.

With Highkeep lost, the front line would soon be short on supplies. Even though the message hadn’t mentioned it yet, he needed to start preparations now.

The high-tier weapons in the armory had to be brought out—better to arm their own troops than let the demons claim them later.

And then…

Inanna.

He had to prepare for the worst—the total collapse of the kingdom.

What Duke Arama chose to do was not his concern. But protecting the young lady’s safety was his absolute duty.

The kingdom would no longer be safe. The dwarves were in chaos, and once the kingdom fell, they’d be next.

The western routes were crawling with demons—too dangerous.

That left only the Elven Forest.

But elves were notoriously isolationist. To send the young lady there for sanctuary would require… a great deal of persuasion.

As he pondered, Eric glanced through the corridor window—and froze.

Inanna stood in the courtyard, holding a knight puji in her arms, staring off into space.

Another of those strange spells of absentmindedness that had begun since she bonded with the pujis.

But now was not the time for such worries.

“Steward! Steward Eric!” a guard shouted, running down the hall in panic.

At that same moment, Inanna seemed to notice him through the window. She turned, raised the knight puji high, and said firmly:

“Eric! I’m going to save the old man!”

Eric blinked, momentarily stunned.

Save? The young lady knew about the duke’s condition? And… how exactly did she plan to save him?

The guard skidded to a halt before him, gasping. “Lord Eric, you need to come—quick!”

“What is it?”

“The pujis! So many—so many pujis! The entire estate is surrounded!”