This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

Dragonroar Valley.

“One—two—push! One—two—push!”

Under the command of Inanna’s adjutant, Warren, the soldiers pushed shoulder-to-shoulder with all their strength against the round, wobbling backside of the giant burrower-puji in front of them.

Their bodies sank deeply into the soft yet unbelievably resilient mushroom-flesh, slowly forcing the creature forward in rhythm.

The intense heat gathering at the burrower-puji’s head wouldn’t burn the soldiers outright, but the waves of heat turned the entire tunnel into a steaming furnace.

Every single person—including Warren—was drenched in sweat, and they had to rotate fresh soldiers in every quarter hour; otherwise no one could last in these conditions.

Even the newly recovered Duke Arama had personally taken a turn.

Unfortunately, his strength was too great—one push popped a tiny hole in the puji’s backside.

Since then, Inanna had strictly forbidden him from helping push again.

Suddenly, the resistance vanished.

The soldiers, unable to stop their momentum, shoved the puji several meters forward and toppled into a heap.

When they lifted their heads, dazzling sunlight streamed in from the newly opened exit, so bright they had to shield their eyes.

After three full days—

The valley tunnel was through.

Warren stared dumbly at the beam of light, unable to speak.

Not only him—every soldier who participated wore the same stunned expression.

Even in a world with magic, carving a passage through a mountain was a monumental project.

To complete one in three days?

That was unheard of.

What was even more absurd—

The only magic used for the entire project was basic illumination.

Dragonroar Valley’s unique mana interference made higher-tier spells nearly useless.

If they relied on conventional magic construction, even half a year might not be enough.

But now—three days.

And relatively easily.

The burrower-puji wasn’t just fast—it compacted crushed stone behind itself like a natural earthworm, reinforcing the tunnel walls so well that collapse was nearly impossible.

The only real problem was that the fungal carpet couldn’t spread fast enough to keep up.

The puji consumed mana at a terrifying rate, and over half their remaining mana potions had been poured directly onto its backside.

When word reached Arama and Lorenzo, both rushed to the site.

Seeing the miraculous tunnel, Arama couldn’t stop praising it.

He ran his hands repeatedly along the tunnel walls, then gave the exhausted puji’s short legs an enthusiastic pat, making the creature’s feet wiggle wildly.

Inanna arrived last.

She held No. 4 puji snugly in her arms, while No. 10 puji hurried behind her, its tiny legs moving comically fast to keep up.

No. 4 had completely adapted to being held by Inanna now.

As a noble member of the puji race, it had resisted at first.

But Inanna’s embrace was perfect—her grip just right, her strokes across its cap soothing, especially when she scratched lightly under the rim…

A few days later, No. 4 had convinced itself that this was “for the mission and the protection of the pink puji,” and shamelessly leaned into the comfort.

As for No. 10, Inanna didn’t treat it any worse—it simply didn’t care for such handling, believing being held would hinder its combat reaction.

It refused every time.

The group gathered at the freshly opened exit, exchanged a few brief words, then split up.

Arama and Warren returned to organize troops for passage.

Lorenzo used detection magic to watch for ambushes outside the valley.

And Inanna, of course, handled the puji forces within the valley.

In the past few days—thanks to Inanna’s “efforts”—a tremendous number of puji had sprouted over the valley’s fungal carpet.

Not only were all the Puji Masters’ quotas filled, Inanna herself now commanded several thousand elite puji.

When the remaining soldiers lined up beside the mass of puji, their combined formation looked like a grand army tens of thousands strong—impressive at first glance.

Arama would soon lead his forces to reinforce Tri-Mountain City—but not everyone.

There were too many wounded.

Some soldiers had been turned into Puji Masters after infection during the battle, and they at least retained combat ability.

But those injured earlier were completely unable to fight.

Unless Arama forcibly allowed each to be parasitized—which would shatter morale—he refused to do it.

These wounded would retreat to the rear under escort.

When Arama’s gaze fell on Inanna, he hesitated.

He desperately wanted to assign her to escort the wounded—away from danger.

Reinforcing Tri-Mountain City meant marching toward death.

He himself could face that fate calmly.

He could lead his brave soldiers to fight to the bitter end.

But to bring Inanna along—

That decision was too heavy.

People always have selfishness.

Or more accurately, a large part of Arama’s courage to face death came because he had Inanna.

Bringing her to the front felt painfully backwards.

“Old man,” Inanna hugged No. 4 tightly, her eyes unwavering.

“No matter what you say, I’m going with you.”

Only then did Arama truly realize—

The girl in front of him was no longer the child he could send or keep at will.

Lorenzo placed a comforting hand on Arama’s shoulder, urging him to accept that she had grown.

The happiest of all was No. 4 puji.

It flailed its tendrils excitedly in her arms:

“Right! Right! Let us fight side by side! This battle will make the name of the puji race echo across the land!”

No. 10 stood quietly nearby, cool-headedly calculating the risks of protecting the pink puji on such a battlefield.

Meanwhile, Lin Jun felt strongly that he should recall Inanna.

After all, the sunstone was already secured—the original mission was complete.

There was no need to risk her any further.

Dragonroar Valley had seemed dangerous, but in truth the terrain, information, and even the demon commander were all under his control.

If anything went wrong, he could always slam on the brakes—via that person called “Little Xi[‘Sigismund’].”

But Tri-Mountain City was nothing like that.

The fungal carpet wasn’t fully established, and there were beings far beyond his control—like the Sword Saint and the vampire prince.

He already had No. 9 following Fifteen into the city, waiting for an opportunity.

There was absolutely no need for the pink puji to appear on the frontline.

If something happened there, Lin Jun might have to tearfully disassemble the pink puji…

…well, on second thought, perhaps it wouldn’t be entirely a loss…

But then Inanna made her own choice:

“I won’t watch the old man march to his death alone.

Will you help me, Lin Jun?”

Hearing his name, Lin Jun stiffened slightly.

He had almost forgotten he once revealed his real name to her.

Hoo—

“Fine. But you’d better obey orders, rookie.”

“Yes, boss!”