This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms - Chapter 607

The Giant Beast Bone Grounds—long ago, this land had been known as the Exotic Beast Dungeon.

Alongside the renowned Dragonroar Valley Dungeon and the mysterious Tomb of the First People, it had once stood as one of the Empire’s three legendary dungeons.

What set it apart from other dungeons was the dizzying variety of strange magical creatures within it.

They came in wildly different forms, possessed bizarre and unpredictable abilities, and almost no two individuals were completely alike. They were entirely different from the structured monster races of the outside world.

However, this miraculous dungeon ultimately collapsed due to an unknown catastrophe.

Its vast internal spatial structure imploded, overlapping with the surrounding rock and soil that had once been displaced by the dungeon’s existence and had now snapped back into place.

In that all-consuming spatial collapse, the relatively fragile exotic beasts were crushed into dust. Only those with particularly sturdy skeletal structures—or special innate talents—had bones strong enough to endure the destructive torrent. Their remains were buried deep beneath the earth.

Most of what survived were the skeletons of massive beasts. Thus, the area was renamed the Giant Beast Bone Grounds.

These exotic beast remains were effectively irreplaceable. They contained strange properties that materials from ordinary monsters simply did not possess.

Many bones, fangs, horns, keratin structures, or crystallized organs were indispensable materials for brewing certain high-tier potions, performing ancient rituals, or forging special magical items.

At one point, the Bone Grounds were worth more than a rich magic crystal vein.

But two hundred years of uninterrupted exploration and excavation had long since exhausted the surface and shallow layers.

It was no longer that dreamland where treasure bones could be dug up with a few casual strikes.

There were still yields—but extraction had become exponentially more difficult and costly. The former prosperity and clamor had faded, leaving behind a relatively quiet industrial zone.

Yet for Count Bona, the lord of this land, the importance of the Giant Beast Bone Grounds had not diminished—in fact, it had grown.

His title had been inherited, not earned through glorious military achievements or overwhelming personal power.

Since taking his seat, his insufficient strength had made him the target of ambitious neighboring lords.

His father’s old subordinates rebelled. Border conflicts were constant. After a series of overt and covert struggles, he had lost nearly half his territory. His domain had shrunk drastically.

The Giant Beast Bone Grounds was now one of the few remaining assets under his name capable of generating stable income.

“Ah? That… bad?”

Kruma scratched one of his horns, genuinely surprised.

In the imagination of an ordinary mercenary like him, a count ruling over such a valuable land should have been awe-inspiring and immensely powerful.

He hadn’t expected a man cornered like this.

“But then,” Kruma frowned, “if things are already this bad, why would he still spend so much money buying all that expensive Blood Jade Wine? Isn’t that just wasting money?”

Their mercenary group had lost part of a shipment of Blood Jade Wine earlier, and Big Brother Canggu was still arguing with the count over compensation.

Heh heh heh.

Precisely because things are already that bad, he cannot let outsiders see even the slightest weakness.

Imagine this: when other lords or imperial envoys visit, if this count cannot even serve Blood Jade Wine—the Empire’s most prestigious symbol of power and taste—what would that imply?

It would be the same as announcing to everyone: look, this man is destitute. He can’t even maintain appearances. He isn’t just a soft persimmon—he’s a slab of fat meat laid out on a cutting board.

And when that happens, it won’t be one or two hyenas pouncing.

It will be an entire pack of wolves drawn by the scent of blood.

The ambushers who attacked your caravan earlier… their backer was likely calculating exactly this. Cut off his last bit of dignity and accelerate his collapse.

Kruma felt a chill down his spine.

“Then… should I tell Big Brother to leave quickly? So we don’t get dragged into this?”

Leave?

No. Not only should you not leave—you should persuade your brother to stay.

“Why?”

If the count is a slab of fat meat, why can’t you be the one who eats him?

“Me?”

The Yellow Book quietly began stirring Kruma’s emotions.

Yes. Don’t you want others to call you Lord Count?

“I… I do…”

Under the Yellow Book’s guidance, Kruma sank completely into that ambition, ignoring many logical inconsistencies.

Once it reached agreement with its good friend, the Yellow Book immediately directed Kruma to begin preparations.

…

Kruma’s older brother, Canggu, stormed out of the count’s manor in anger.

This was outrageous.

To encounter a clearly premeditated and well-equipped ambush so close to the Giant Beast Bone Grounds on an official road—anyone with eyes could see the attackers’ real target wasn’t the mercenaries, but the count.

Yet now the count wanted to shift all the losses and risks onto the mercenary group. How could Canggu accept that?

Neither side wished to completely tear off the mask. After prolonged arguing, the count reluctantly agreed to pay slightly more than half of the originally promised reward.

Back at the courtyard their mercenary group rented outside the Bone Grounds, Canggu gathered all squad leaders. He intended to explain the situation, distribute the meager compensation, and leave this troublesome place as soon as possible.

Upon entering the room, he noticed Kruma was there too.

Originally, Kruma—who had only joined thanks to Canggu’s connections—was not qualified to attend. But perhaps due to his earlier act of saving everyone, no squad leader objected to his presence this time. Canggu didn’t mind.

He briefly summarized the negotiation results. The room filled with sighs and curses.

Then he announced his intention to leave by the day after tomorrow at the latest.

At that moment, Kruma—an old yellow-covered book resting on his knees—suddenly spoke:

“Big Brother, I think… we should stay.”

Canggu looked at him reproachfully.

He understood the impatience of youth wanting to prove themselves. But publicly opposing the leader—especially his own brother—was rash.

Still, he didn’t immediately shut him down. It was Kruma’s first formal proposal. Even if rejected, some face should be saved.

Kruma offered several reasons—mainly that the losses were too great to leave now, that departing would mean coming for nothing.

He suggested purchasing local specialty materials first, then transporting them back as if making an extra trade run.

The reasoning sounded practical and reasonable.

Canggu had already considered such options. But he weighed the tense local situation and potential risks more heavily, preferring to forgo some profit.

What surprised him slightly was that after Kruma finished speaking, none of the usually opinionated squad leaders voiced objections. The atmosphere was subtly strange.

“Big Brother, I’ve written the more detailed plan… in here. Take a look.”

Kruma stood and handed over the Yellow Book.

Canggu took it, already planning how to reject the risky proposal without embarrassing his brother.

He casually flipped it open.

At first, he skimmed.

But soon, his gaze became fixed on the page.

The framework outlined within was still flawed in places—some logic naïve, some gaps obvious.

Yet somehow, between the lines, there was a strange attraction. The more he read, the more hopeful the direction seemed. The more he felt this was the correct choice—the only rational one.

“No…” Canggu shook his head sharply, pressing a hand to his throbbing temple. A faint instinctive warning struggled within him. “Why do I… think this way…”

At that moment, the thoughts in the room seemed to resonate.

All the squad leaders’ gazes subtly shifted toward the book—or met each other’s eyes.

Under that invisible resonance, Canggu’s weak struggle and doubt dissolved completely.

His eyes refocused—minus the earlier caution.

“Good lad! You’ve thought this through better than your big brother! We’ll follow your plan!”

He returned the Yellow Book to Kruma and clapped him heavily on the shoulder.

“And since we’re doing this—why not go bigger? Maybe… we can even pull Count Bona himself into our business.”

The other squad leaders began offering suggestions as well.

For a moment, the room became a grand stage.

On that stage, puppets discussed passionately—

As though they possessed free will.

Faces animated. Eyes bright. Voices full of ambition.

A magnificent and utterly convincing puppet show.