This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

The illumination mushrooms growing upside down from the ceiling cast a warm orange glow, lighting every face seated around the long council table.

This was the first cabinet meeting of Puji Fort. All present were core members operating within the Northern Territory.

According to intelligence extracted from spies who had infiltrated the north, several Imperial lords had already begun making moves. Puji Fort had to prepare.

Louisa swept her gaze across the table, sharp fangs faintly visible behind her lips.

“We’ve already consolidated nearly all the strength of the Northern Territory. We have Puji Fort’s fortified defenses, and with the Boss Puji’s blessings, we are no weaker than any Imperial duke — perhaps even stronger.

The Empire is vast. Its internal factions constantly clash. They will not mobilize their entire might over a newly emerged border power.

So we strike first — while their response is slow and their judgment uncertain.

We hit them hard and clean.

We show them that here stands a bone so hard it’ll crack their teeth if they try to bite.

Only then will we hold the initiative.”

Across from her, Shou lifted his eyes.

“Louisa, I understand your thinking.

But this is the Empire.

The strongest force on the continent, with unfathomable foundations.

We might win once — perhaps.

But what then?

We invite harsher retaliation and drag Puji Fort into a full-scale war we are not yet prepared for.

If the Empire were still entangled in war with the humans and dwarves, I would support you.

But they’ve freed their hands now.”

Shou then laid out his proposal.

“I believe we should avoid direct confrontation as much as possible. We could even… show weakness. On the surface, adopt a posture of submission to buy time. In secret, continue building strength, and wait for the Empire’s next internal upheaval before acting.”

Louisa snorted.

“Show weakness?

Only someone who’s ruled a small wilderness tribe would come up with something so naive. Bare your soft throat to a pack of wolves?

Shou, that only convinces every wolf that you’re the easiest meat to tear apart.

They won’t even give you the chance to pretend submission — they’ll swarm you and devour you.”

Xinghou interjected at that point.

“Perhaps we don’t need open confrontation — nor submission.

What if we create trouble within the Empire itself?

Stir friction between them and the dwarves or humans. Manufacture internal instability.

Most of Puji Fort’s population are demonfolk. Infiltrating Imperial territory and planting agents is not impossible.

If we entangle their attention elsewhere, we gain time.”

Louisa responded immediately, though her tone softened slightly.

“Xinghou, your idea isn’t unworkable. The Empire’s internal contradictions are real — there are many opportunities to provoke unrest.

But time — we need time.

Planting spies, cultivating influence, triggering chaos — those are long-term operations measured in years.

The Empire’s scouts and border lords may give us only months — perhaps weeks.

Your plan can be executed for the future.

It does nothing for the immediate crisis.”

The debate continued, every proposal meeting fierce scrutiny over its advantages and flaws.

At the corner of the long table, Norris sat quietly, practically shrinking into the shadows.

His hands rested neatly on his knees. He stared at the wood grain on the tabletop as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Two years ago he had been digging mana crystals in a mine.

What did he know of grand strategy?

He even suspected this might be another one of the Boss’s “training exercises.”

Norris glanced furtively toward the elevated main seat, where the Marshal Puji sat atop a specially raised cushion.

The Boss had not spoken once.

Was he… zoning out?

—

Lin Jun was certainly not zoning out.

He was gathering perspectives.

If he spoke too early and set the tone, further ideas would be stifled. So he listened in silence, allowing Little Pig, Shou, and Xinghou to argue.

At present, Little Pig — hardened by years of struggle within the Empire — offered the most grounded suggestion, albeit aggressive.

Xinghou and Shou had grown a great deal in governance and diplomacy recently, but their experience remained limited.

That was only natural.

Little Pig was fifty-two years old — practically elderly in the vibrant Mushroom Garden core circle. She could sit at the same table as retired old Dylan. A bit of seasoned pragmatism was expected.

From Lin Jun’s observations of Sigismund and Imperial political ecology, showing weakness would indeed invite predation. Even when feeble, one must project ferocity to survive in the Empire.

However, Puji Fort’s situation was unique.

Puji Fort did not fear a massed army.

After all, the Frost Elemental Lord remained bound to Inanna. If the situation turned dire, they could simply release it back to the ruins.

Temperatures would not drop immediately — but within a month, Imperial troops lacking Cold Resistance would find even bonfires insufficient.

What concerned Lin Jun more was escalation.

If the Empire discovered conventional forces couldn’t handle Puji Fort, they might send dukes, princes — or even the Emperor himself.

If they located the Frost Elemental Lord and eliminated it, Puji Fort’s “field magic card” would be gone.

True, the Emperor was currently occupied with slime affairs and Imperial dungeons — unlikely to personally head north.

But the world was unpredictable.

If he came — could they win?

Lin Jun considered Soul Touch.

Considered the Puji God-Weapon.

Considered the gourmet mushrooms delivered monthly as tribute to the Emperor.

In a mundane world, he might have considered poisoning the Emperor.

Unfortunately.

Overall, Lin Jun judged that even against top-tier experts, Puji Fort was not helpless — but the odds were unfavorable.

Thus, Shou’s idea of buying time also held merit.

First, Lin Jun needed time to train his newly acquired skills.

Second, thanks to Life Essence, Puji Fort’s growth rate far outpaced normal factions.

Time favored them.

Of course, delay could not be indefinite. The world, after all, still awaited its “hero.”

At last, the Marshal Puji slowly raised a single tentacle.

The simple gesture instantly silenced the escalating debate.

“If the Empire sends troops, we must not ignore them — but neither can we annihilate them.

We will fight them to a stalemate.

Or appear slightly disadvantaged.”

Shou and Xinghou blinked in confusion — then enlightenment dawned in their eyes.

“Boss is wise!”

Little Pig understood too. It meant fighting while holding back — in some ways harder than not fighting at all.

But once the Boss had spoken, there was no further objection.

Finally, toward the meeting’s conclusion, something unexpected happened.

The Yellow Book made a proposal.

[Boss, regarding infiltration and sowing internal unrest within the Empire… perhaps this humble one could oversee it.]

It paused, seemingly gauging Lin Jun’s reaction.

[Did you not wish to conduct a certain ritual within Imperial territory?]

[Perhaps… the two matters could be handled together.]

Watching the Yellow Book volunteer so eagerly, Lin Jun felt an unusual flicker of hesitation.