This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms - Chapter 494
Lin Jun was a broad-minded mushroom.
Stuffing the Sword Saint into a puji was simply to test the Sunstone’s capabilities.
As for the 【Delicious】 and 【Aromatic Lure】 skills, those were just randomly chosen while testing the skill-loading function. It definitely wasn’t because he still held a grudge over how the Sword Saint once dismissed the puji, acting indifferent about whether to kill it or let it go.
The terrifying power of the Blood Calamity Artifact was still vivid in his memory. Since the Sunstone was also an artifact, even if it wasn’t suited for battle, there was no way its abilities were limited to “cutting souls and shaping mushroomfolk.” There had to be functions he hadn’t discovered yet.
And now it seemed that this artifact’s use was deeply tied to souls.
In theory, Lin Jun could use it to place any soul into a puji body.
In practice, ordinary people’s souls were sucked clean by 【Greed】 and then merged into the world, leaving him no way to hold onto them.
The Sword Saint’s soul was only retained because 【Edge of the Sword】 was difficult to digest.
Interestingly, once the Sword Saint obtained a mushroom body, the digestion of 【Edge of the Sword】 stopped.
And when the puji body died, digestion resumed.
The experiment was nearly complete. Should he let the Sword Saint remain as a puji, or completely digest 【Edge of the Sword】 and send him on his way?
Lin Jun was kind-hearted, so he decided to let him stay for now.
Besides, everything about the Sword Saint was currently under his control; the most the man could do was refuse to cooperate.
And as long as the Sword Saint still cared about humanity’s survival, still had attachments such as Fifteen, and still cared for the future of the world, Lin Jun believed the former Sword Saint would understand which choice to make.
……
Staring at the figure who had revealed Lin Jun’s identity—sitting upright on the heavy-armor puji throne, wearing a bright red cloak—Elvian’s mind whirled with countless thoughts.
“You’re the Mycomaster?” [菌主]
“Accept no substitutions.” The Marshal puji tipped his mushroom cap elegantly, the cloak swaying lightly in the breeze.
Trying very hard to ignore the puji beside him fanning wind like a ceremonial attendant, Elvian raised one of his own mycelium tendrils and pointed at the short and chubby puji body before him. “What exactly is your goal?”
“Why not come see for yourself?” Lin Jun controlled the Marshal puji and extended a tendril toward him.
Without any hesitation, Elvian’s tendril wound around it.
He had already lost everything; there was no need for caution. What he needed most now was the truth.
Pulled up beside the throne, he stood as the heavy-armor puji advanced under the escort of the ceremonial procession.
Around them, numbered puji cast waves of envious intent, the mycelial network echoing with the whispers of “So nice, I want to stand there too.”
Standing atop the heavy-armor puji, Elvian witnessed a sight that shocked him to the core.
At first, seeing lizardfolk, he assumed they’d entered demon territory — but soon realized that was wrong.
Lizardfolk, demonic halfbreeds, demonborn, humans, dwarves… even elves?!
So many races living mixed together — and not in relationships of enslavement and subjugation.
He saw a dwarf chatting happily with a lizardman, a demonborn crouched in front of a little elf recording the materials she needed, a half-demon and a human sharing steaming bowls of glowing mushroom porridge at the same table.
There was no trace of racial divide or hatred.
To Elvian, who had fought the demon race for half his life, the scene overturned everything he believed.
He wasn’t so stubborn as to think all demons were evil; in his long career, he had met demon opponents he respected.
But he understood clearly that the hatred between races could not be easily resolved.
A few individuals from different races becoming friends was possible — but groups living in true harmony? Never.
The scene before him, one where race no longer mattered, was beyond comprehension.
Elvian said nothing, simply continuing to observe from atop the heavy-armor puji.
When the procession exited the stone-fortress underground city, cold wind mixed with snowflakes greeted them.
As far as the eye could see—nothing but white.
Only then did Elvian realize he was in the far northern reaches.
As the heavy-armor puji marched toward the Puji Fortress, he saw even more races:
Bearfolk, serpentfolk, horned demons, shapeshifters, succubi…
This place was like a melting pot that accepted all.
Elvian also noticed a shared trait among them.
Everyone was fully symbiotic with the mycelium, followed by puji that radiated heat.
Whenever the Marshal puji passed by, people of all races would stop what they were doing to bow from a distance.
Not in the cautious manner that commoners greeted nobles.
In fact, as soon as the procession moved on, those people would animatedly talk about where the Marshal was probably going to loaf around this time.
What astonished Elvian even more was their method of communication. Nearly everyone used fluent mental speech — a skill absent among the kingdom’s puji tamers.
The more he saw, the more questions filled his heart.
Until the procession arrived at the Puji Fortress — a prosperous city so developed it defied its location in the far north!
With the northern tribes continuously joining under the “call of love,” even though Lin Jun had begun diverting population to new settlements, the Puji Fortress remained the most complete large city and had reached unprecedented population levels.
The streets bustled with people; residents naturally avoided the giant burrowing puji that exhaled heat to warm the city.
They chatted about the bitter winter, newly posted task rewards, or who had just paid the down payment to buy a home and settle long-term in the Puji Fortress.
The liveliness made Elvian feel, for a moment, as though he had returned to Oath City.
At last he realized — this city truly had achieved harmonious coexistence among many races.
“How is this even possible?” Elvian could no longer hold his question. “Why are they able to live without resentment or fear among races that used to be mortal enemies?”
The Marshal puji’s tendrils wrapped around him elegantly. “It’s simple. Treat every member equal… equally.”
Elvian didn’t believe it was as simple as this so-called “Mycomaster” claimed.
His gaze swept across the overly new buildings; the chisel marks on stone were still visible. Clearly, this power had risen recently.
By imperial standards, they would never allow a threat like this to appear in the north unchecked. No doubt this force rose quietly while humanity and the demon race were locked in war.
Thinking of the human-demon war, Elvian finally voiced the question he cared most about:
“How is Tri-Mountain City? What about humanity? You must know, right?”
Lin Jun didn’t hide anything. “After you died, due to some accidents, humanity managed to survive one calamity. But this peace won’t last long. In truth, the empire is far from the greatest threat humanity faces.”
“You asked my purpose, didn’t you?” The Marshal puji hopped onto the throne with a hup, shaking his cloak. “I’m going to save humanity, save the demon race… save this world!”
A tiny puji declaring he would save the world should have been laughable — but Elvian did not laugh. Instead, suspicion and a bit of belief wavered inside him.
Because this “Mycomaster” had already shown him far too many impossible things.
“If you want, you can go confirm humanity’s situation yourself,” the Marshal puji said, leaning in. “But before that, how about we make a trade? Don’t worry — our interests align. I won’t ask anything too difficult.”
