The cool morning sunlight slipped quietly across the window, cutting the room into a still tableau of light and shadow.

Inanna had long since awakened.

She sat curled at the head of the bed, chin resting lightly on her drawn-together knees, arms wrapped around her shins like a cub trying to protect itself.

She was still replaying shards of last night’s dream—the splendid ball, the icy touch, and those unnerving voids beneath the pink hair.

The Pujis had surged forward one after another, blocking the doorway and separating her from the woman, sealing the entrance completely.

The dream felt like a play with a grand opening and a muddled end, finishing in chaos.

Inanna couldn’t understand it. Though her memories of her mother were blurred, in her impression, Mother was a gentle presence who would draw her to the bedside and stroke her hair when she cried.

Why had her mother become so terrifying in the dream?

Cradling her Knight Puji, rubbing it for a good while, Inanna finally regained her spirits.

“Young lady Inanna, Mr. Aidan is waiting outside.” The maid’s soft voice came from beyond the door.

Today was the day the city walls were completed. At a time like this, as the nominal mistress here, Inanna had to make an appearance.

Holding her Knight Puji, Inanna left the residence. Aidan, dressed in a finely tailored noble’s suit, awaited her outside, and together they headed for the north gate.

When they arrived, the space beneath the gate tower was already a sea of faces. For many, the rise of this city embodied their sweat and toil; they felt honored to witness this ceremony.

High atop the towering wall, Fahl used amplification magic to deliver a stirring address, while waves of cheers rolled up from the crowd below.

Everyone sank into the heated atmosphere—everyone except Inanna, who found the ceremony long and dull.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to speak. It was enough to stand there and lend legitimacy to Fahl’s new role—acting city lord.

Fahl’s contributions to the city’s construction were plain to see. Though Inanna herself felt the Pujis had contributed even more, the title of city lord could hardly be given to a Puji.

Inanna wasn’t going to govern; she neither could nor wanted to. Handing the position to Fahl was best.

Eric had already consulted the duke and obtained decision-making authority for this.

As for “acting,” that was because no precedent existed for a Guild branch chief to also serve as city lord.

In fact, a branch chief forcibly growing a small town into a city in under a year was itself unprecedented.

In peacetime, the upper echelons might have summoned Fahl, granted him a noble title, and relieved him of the branch-chief role, appointing someone else.

But with war ongoing, abruptly replacing the branch chief risked conflict or mishaps that could affect the food supply. That would be unwise.

Thus the formalities were postponed. Fahl would hold both posts, ruling under the name of “acting city lord.”

At the end of his speech, Fahl announced the city’s new name—Mordu!

He had, in fact, thought up a rather elegant name originally—“Podekrei,” meaning “land of plenty.”

But Miss Inanna had offhandedly remarked, “Why not just call it Mordu(lit. “Mushroom Capital”)?”—and so the matter was settled.

That suggestion, naturally, was the result of Lin Jun whispering into the Pink Puji’s ear in advance.

For Fahl, a city’s name was less important than the support of the duke’s daughter. He certainly wouldn’t dampen Inanna’s spirits—so long as they didn’t go as far as calling it “Demon Capital.”

From atop the walls, Fahl elaborated on the many meanings of “Mordu(lit. “Mushroom Capital”),” and then, amid thunderous cheers, concluded his address.

The crowd slowly dispersed, and the guards officially took their posts at the gates.

From now on, all newcomers would be questioned, registered, and pay the entry tax. Mordu would henceforth be run by the rules of a true city!

Of course, the installation of various magic arrays lagged behind schedule a bit; they would take another month or two.

A traveling merchant from afar handed over his guild papers and identification, and after a careful inspection and paying the entry fee, finally stepped into the legendary new city “where even the stream water carried drifting mushrooms.”

Leading his horse, he moved with the flow of people, eyes busy as he scanned the shop signs along the street, murmuring under his breath: “House of Puji… House of Puji… Don’t rush contact yet, but I need to locate the place.”

…

That night, the Pink Puji had a nightmare.

In the dream, humans lit raging flames, and the mushroom fields turned to scorched earth in the firelight.

Puji Masters drove their enslaved Pujis, launching a mad assault on the mushroom garden.

Inside the garden, the Pujis fought to the death, clashing with the invaders near the stairway entrance.

Inanna wanted to rush out to stop the humans—or simply help the Pujis resist the invasion—but the Pujis around her held her back, pushing her into a mushroom hut and signaling her to hide.

In the distance, explosions boomed, weapons clashed, and furious shouts mingled, battering her ears.

Within the dream, she couldn’t understand—why would people do this?

The mushrooms had saved them from hunger; the Pujis had always shown the greatest kindness to humans. Why must they wipe them out?

As the dream neared its end, the sounds of battle slowly faded. She mustered her courage and stepped outside—only to find that the Knight Puji which had stood guard at the door, blocking her from leaving, was nowhere to be seen.

Anxiously, she searched, and finally saw it upon the ghastly battlefield at the stairway: it lay still atop a little hill of Puji and human corpses, never to answer her again.

Tears burst forth. She rushed up, gathered the Knight Puji’s limp body in her arms, and sobbed uncontrollably.

…

She awoke with a start.

Her familiar room filled her vision—it wasn’t the mushroom garden. She reached out with her senses—the link to the Knight Puji was still clear, and it was nestled safely in her arms.

“A dream… it was only a dream.” Inanna hugged the Puji tighter, but tears still slid from the corners of her eyes.

Slowly, she calmed her breathing.

Though the “mother” from that earlier night had looked horrific, Inanna hadn’t been truly frightened and hadn’t counted it as a nightmare—just a strange dream.

But this one was a real nightmare. Even now, the sadness in her heart wouldn’t ease.

Ever since she began dreaming of her mother, everything in her dreams seemed to have grown strange.

Inanna remembered Eric’s earlier reminder: if she had nightmares, she should tell him at once.

She also thought of her mother and the effects of the Dreamflower [a sleep-inducing flower associated with pleasant dreams], and a fear wound itself through her heart.

Was this some kind of illness?

Would she, like her mother, grow weaker through recurring nightmares—until she died young?

Inanna didn’t want to die. She loved her life now and wanted to keep living with the Pujis like this.

She should tell Eric… but if she did, Eric would surely bring her back to the ducal manor.

More importantly, if this truly was an illness, it might not be curable at all.

Otherwise, her mother wouldn’t have died like that back then.

“What should I do…” Inanna pressed herself close to her Knight Puji, as if seeking a sliver of safety.

A long time later, while Lin Jun was in the middle of using his ultimate technique—“sunstone irradiation”—on the unconscious Little Blue, he received a pitiful plea from the Pink Puji:

“Boss… I-I think I might be about to die!”