At the base of the staircase leading to the sixth floor—

Several large ox-horse Pujis busied their mycelium tentacles, bundling up the last of the monster corpses.

With this trip done, all the spoils gathered by the Pujis during the Demon Tide had finally been hauled back to the mushroom garden.

Thanks to the sheer volume of fertilizer and abundant mana, in just over a week the mushroom fields across the fifth floor had already begun to take shape again.

Another week or so, and they might even surpass their pre-Tide prosperity.

Even Lin Jun had to admit—the growth rate of the mushroom race was impressive.

Of course, the Poison Lake was an exception.

The contamination there was even worse than before.

At first only the lakeshore had been blighted, but now the dead zone had spread to a radius of five hundred meters.

Lin Jun regretted not studying that three-headed serpent’s skills more carefully.

What kind of venom was this vicious?

At least the spread had finally halted in the last couple of days. But as for how long it would take to recover… who could say?

As for the Miraji in the lake—

A two-meter-tall ox-horse Puji, belly packed full of mushrooms, trudged step by step toward the shore.

Each step corroded away a layer of its foot upon contact with the poisoned ground.

Only because of its massive size did it manage to reach the lakeside with something of its feet still intact.

Then the Puji rolled itself down the slope, tumbling into the lake with its precious cargo.

The Miraji had been waiting. They swarmed up eagerly, devouring their bi-daily feast.

Lin Jun had decided to raise them after all. The lake was useless for anything else now.

These creatures weren’t aggressive—at most they spat a little poison—and their range was confined to the water.

And since they lived in a poison lake, even if adventurers passed by, they were unlikely to bother with them.

The point of raising them, of course, was for harvest.

Their level averaged only around ten, and their small bodies offered little mana or experience.

Their true value lay in [Aquatic Adaptation] and [Scale Armor]. Especially the scales.

After breaking down numerous scale-bearing dragon beasts, Lin Jun had finally obtained the skill for himself.

And he discovered—it was far more convenient than the shell he currently relied on.

Unlike the rigid exoskeleton, scales offered solid defense while being lighter and more flexible.

With the Miraji as a renewable source, only digging Pujis would still need shells for smashing rocks.

While the mushroom garden thrived, Lin Jun’s eyes turned toward other dungeon floors.

He didn’t know why, but even though the Demon Tide had long ended, adventurers still hadn’t resumed activity.

Not that he minded.

During this lull, he sent many Pujis out.

Their mission wasn’t fighting, but scattering spores in corners of the upper four floors—hidden spots where monsters rarely reached.

Though small patches of mycelium couldn’t generate visual feeds, they could at least sense mana fluctuations.

And those little nodes could serve as relay points, linking large outer carpets back to the fifth floor.

And why plant large carpets on other floors?

Because Lin Jun hated wasting all those monster corpses, of course!

He could decompose them for mana and skills.

Then sprout more mushrooms to feed back into the ecosystem.

Everyone would benefit.

Sadly, the mushroom garden was still in recovery, and Puji numbers were short.

For now, he could only expand upward, into safer layers.

As for deeper floors—

Too few Pujis would just end up as monster chow before completing their tasks.

——

At the dungeon entrance, two guards sat by a campfire.

The flames flickered in the night breeze. Aiden prodded the embers with his iron sword, sparks dancing onto his chainmail.

“So cold… I’d give anything for a bowl of meat stew right now,” the rookie muttered, hugging his shoulders. “Senior, what’s the point of making us guard this place? If adventurers want to go in, do you think we could stop them?”

Aiden shot him a glance, uncorked his wineskin, took a swig, then finally passed it over.

“You ask too many questions. Guard duty’s guard duty—what’s the difference where you stand? What, you think if you were posted in town you’d be sipping stew instead?”

The rookie gulped greedily, warmth spreading through him.

“Of course it’s different! Look there—” He pointed at a rock stained dark red. “I heard a lot of people died here that day. What if it spawns a wraith?”

Aiden stared at him long enough to make him squirm—then burst out laughing.

“Don’t listen to bard tales. If every battlefield birthed wraiths, the dungeon would be overflowing by now!”

“I-I was just saying, I didn’t really think—”

Rustle—

Both men froze, turning toward the sound.

Aiden raised a whistle to his lips.

The rookie muttered nervously, “It’s not really a wraith, right…?”

“Idiot!”

Aiden lit a makeshift torch from the campfire and stepped toward the trees.

He slashed his sword through the undergrowth a few times, finding nothing.

Returning to the fire, he smirked at the rookie.

“Probably just a critter. Look at you jumpy like that—you’ll never make it far with guts that small.”

The rookie, thoroughly embarrassed, muttered excuses about “being tipsy” and “not thinking straight.”

Neither noticed the faint trail of footprints behind them—two rows of shallow prints leading straight into the dungeon.

——

Dungeon, first floor.

The stone wall shimmered, revealing two crouching young men.

“Sc-sc-scared me to death!” The robed youth trembled. “Gray, you don’t understand—his sword was this close! Really, just a hair away from me!”

The warrior Gray stared at his companion, Calvin.

“You’re the one who just had to eavesdrop, and then spooked yourself with some ‘wraith’ nonsense. Aren’t you a mage? You spend all day dissecting freaky materials—how can you be afraid of wraiths?”

At the word “wraith,” Calvin flinched again. “You don’t get it! I saw one once, back with my teacher! Of course I’m scared! You’d be too if you’d met one!”

“Sure, sure,” Gray sighed. “But if you’re this scared, should we really keep going? Why don’t you just cast another invisibility spell and we head home?”

Calvin grabbed his arm, panicked.

“No way! If I don’t get a Parasite Tree seed, I can’t brew the Verity Potion!

Without the potion, I can’t hand in my assignment!

And if I fail again, teacher will punish me—make me practice magic on that duke’s perverted daughter, and I’ll end up turned into a Puji in front of her!

Gray, you have to help me! Don’t forget, last time you were constipated, I was the one who made you that laxative potion!”

Gray scowled. “That so-called potion had me shitting for a whole day straight. That counts as help?”

“Answer me this—were you constipated or not?!”