This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

Inside Dragonhowl Valley, nearly every soldier who had followed Arama back was carrying light wounds.

As for the seriously injured ones—those didn’t make it back. The madwoman Vilaris had still managed to leave plenty of casualties behind.

Yet despite this, the light in everyone’s eyes burned brighter than before.

The arrival of the reinforcements had rekindled a fragile hope among those who’d already resigned themselves to death.

Arama’s gaze swept across the peculiar reinforcements before him—the Puji Masters. It was his first time seeing them in person.

He had observed much of their fighting already. There were things he didn’t understand—such as why some of the puji clearly exhibited far greater strength than others—but overall, he couldn’t deny that their combat ability was astonishing.

Suppressing his astonishment, he strode quickly toward the man who seemed to be commanding the puji.

“Thank you for lending aid under such circumstances. I am Arama St. Clair,” he said, his voice hoarse but still heavy with authority. “Are you the commander of this force?”

The deputy instinctively straightened his back, though a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. He opened his mouth: “I’m just—”

Before he could finish, a clear and almost smug girl’s voice rang out from within the tallest heavy-armored puji:

“The commander is me!”

Under Arama and Lorenzo’s astonished stares, a pale hand pushed open a small gap beneath the puji’s cap, and a head popped out.

Pink hair cascaded like a shimmering waterfall, brushing against the puji’s plated belly.

Inanna’s face still had streaks of fungus on it, and her green eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and “come on, praise me!” energy. Looking down from her lofty perch, she proudly declared to her father:

“Old man! I came to save you!”

Time seemed to freeze.

The first to recover was Lorenzo. “Niece? Y-you—you—how did you end up here?!”

He turned to Arama, about to say something—but Arama was no longer in a state to listen.

The duke’s face shifted rapidly—from stern, to shock, to disbelief, and finally to a barely contained rage.

He stared blankly at his daughter—the one he’d thought was safely behind the lines—now standing here, in this blood-soaked valley of death.

The tearful reunion Inanna had imagined did not come.

“Inanna… what… are… you… doing… here?!”

…

Among the weary soldiers, one man widened his eyes at the sight of Inanna.

Then, naturally, he stepped back a few paces, quietly slipping out of formation toward a pile of damaged equipment where no one was looking.

Though Vilaris’s troops were notoriously disorganized, she herself was far from a fool like that idiot Elinor.

During the chaos of the earlier battle, even after being caught off-guard by Lin Jun’s invisible self-destruct puji, she had still managed to react swiftly—using the confusion to plant a spy.

[Race: Shapeshifter]

[Level: LV42]

But what the spy didn’t know was that a knight puji had silently broken formation to follow him.

In the shadowed corner, the spy scanned his surroundings carefully, ensuring no one was watching. His hand slipped into his tattered uniform, fingers brushing against a short-range communication crystal—

A nearly invisible fungal tendril shot out from behind him, wrapping tightly around his mouth before he could make a sound.

Shlkk!

Several wet, muffled stabs followed as sharp tendrils pierced through his chest.

His body convulsed violently, gurgling incoherently as he tried to trigger his shapeshifting ability to fight back—but the fatal wounds had already drained his strength.

The disguise peeled away like flaking paint, revealing a gray, lifeless form that collapsed in a heap.

A few more puji shuffled into the corner. When they withdrew, only a faint trace of blood remained.

If not for the fact that Lin Jun’s fungal network had yet to spread deep beneath the valley, there wouldn’t even be a need to drag the body away.

…

Meanwhile, the touching reunion between father and daughter had moved indoors—though “touching” might not be the right word.

“Do you have any idea what this place is?!” Arama’s voice trembled with suppressed fury, a vein throbbing on his temple. “This is a death trap! Why did you come here? To die?!”

“What do you mean to die! I told you, I came to save you!” Inanna stood her ground stubbornly, tilting her chin upward.

“Save me? When have I ever needed you to save me? When did I ask for help? You actually— you dare—!” Arama’s breath came in ragged bursts; for once, he was too furious for words.

Lorenzo had never seen his old friend this angry. Awkwardly wedged between the two, he gave a strained smile and tried to mediate. “Hey now, take it easy. She just meant well—”

Arama snapped his head toward Lorenzo like a drowning man grabbing at driftwood. “Lorenzo! There’s still time! Take her—now! Climb over the ridge and return to Oath City at once!”

Before Lorenzo could answer, Inanna shouted back, “I’m not leaving! I said I came to save you, and I meant it! You can’t control me!”

With that, she spun around and stormed off, her two knight puji following behind with a rhythmic “puji-puji” sound.

Arama roared after her, but only the sound of retreating footsteps answered him. His shoulders slumped; the fury drained out, replaced by exhaustion.

Lorenzo sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s rigid shoulder. “Alright, alright. Let’s calm down first. What’s done is done. Let’s think about how to keep her safe now.”

…

Still fuming and hurt, Inanna returned to the Puji Masters’ encampment.

The deputy wisely ordered everyone to give her space.

Sitting alone in the corner, her anger slowly faded, replaced by unease.

She recalled the brutal battle—so many puji destroyed, Puji Masters lost, all ending in a desperate retreat into the valley.

Now, with few puji left, surrounded by powerful demon forces, and her father refusing to flee—were they really going to die here?

She hugged a knight puji tightly to her chest, seeking comfort from its familiar warmth. In a small, uncertain voice, she asked, “Boss… can we really save my father?”

“Ah, Little Pink,” Lin Jun’s lazy, teasing voice echoed in her mind. “You really haven’t spent enough time in the Puji Garden. Do you know the first rule of the Puji Garden?”

Inanna blinked. “The… first rule?”

“That’s right—never doubt your boss!” Lin Jun didn’t know if there had ever been a rule, but now there was. “Remember our little ‘performance’ outside Yafeng Town[“Silentwind Town”] ?”

“I remember!” Her eyes lit up.

“Let’s do it again.”

“Okay!” Her gloom vanished like mist under sunlight. “Boss, you’re the best!”

“Well, it is your dad we’re saving,” Lin Jun replied magnanimously. “Though afterward, I might need a little… help with something. We’ll talk about that later.”

“Uh-huh! Whatever you need!”

…

When Arama and Lorenzo finally emerged from their long, fruitless meeting—tired and heavy-hearted—they were stunned by the sight before them.

Hundreds of soldiers and Puji Masters had gathered in a loose circle, craning their necks curiously.

At the center stood Inanna, awkward yet determined, clutching the knight puji in her arms. She swayed and leapt in an odd, rhythmic dance that looked like some ancient tribal rite.

And under her feet, upon a small patch of fresh fungal carpet, one puji after another began to sprout—visibly, rapidly, and continuously.