Chapter 31 – First Dungeon Farm
The stone tunnel yawned before them like the open throat of some slumbering beast. Moisture dripped from the ceiling, carrying the faint tang of earth and fungus. Bioluminescent spores hung in the air, a haze of faint green light that made every shadow seem alive.
Viscount Glic Goldbear stood at the entrance with his company banner behind him. The Mushroom Grove Dungeon—the first unclaimed dungeon in Drenwick's history—was about to become his proving ground.
"Formation, steady," he commanded.
Behind him, the strange army he had assembled fell into rank:
Five Dire Wolves, their fur bristling with faint magical sheen.
Three Giant Eagles, restless, wings folded but eyes sharp.
Twenty-five goblins and twenty-five kobolds, crude weapons in hand, outfitted with the barest armor the Fusion Company had smithed.
Five hobgoblins, each bearing fusion-enhanced polearms.
Three lizardmen, chosen for their scouting instincts in damp terrain.
One bugbear, massive and lumbering, carrying a steel-plated tower shield.
This was not a noble retinue of knights, nor a polished battalion. It was a menagerie of demi-human slaves and fused beasts—an army no court would respect, but one Glic intended to make terrifying.
The descent began slowly. The walls soon opened into caverns carpeted with massive mushrooms, their stalks thicker than trees, caps wide enough to serve as roofs. Some pulsed with dim light, others oozed a faintly acidic sap.
The first skirmish came swiftly. A cluster of sporelings, knee-high fungal creatures with glowing eyes, emerged from between stalks and rushed the front line.
"Forward!" Glic barked.
The hobgoblins met them with spears, skewering the first wave, while the kobolds darted in to finish off stragglers. A spore cloud erupted as one creature was pierced, spreading choking fumes.
"Shape Water!" Glic cast, drawing moisture from the cave and condensing it into a spray that dissipated the cloud.
The first battle was won—but it revealed the dungeon's danger.
"Note it," Glic told his scribe. "Sporelings self-detonate. Use ranged units or magic, not melee."
By the second chamber, Glic's strategy became clear. He wasn't here to simply loot. He was here to farm.
The System's voice chimed in his mind:
> [Dungeon Farm Potential Detected.]
[Option: Claim and Establish Dungeon as Resource Node.]
[Requirement: Clear First Three Floors.]
Glic's lips curled into a smile. A dungeon was not just a den of monsters—it was a renewable source of materials, mana crystals, and experience for his forces. Where others saw danger, he saw an economy.
The second chamber was filled with mushroom hulks—towering fungal beasts with bark-like skin. They swung heavy arms like clubs, scattering kobolds with each blow.
"Wolves—flank! Eagles, blind them!"
The dire wolves lunged from the shadows, tearing at their ankles, while giant eagles raked their glowing caps with talons. When the hulks fell, their bodies oozed thick mycelium.
Glic crouched beside a corpse, eyes gleaming. "Perfect."
He called forth the System.
> Fusion Attempt: Mushroom Hulk + Dire Wolf
Result: Myco-Hound.
– Appearance: Fungal wolf with spore-veined hide.
– Traits: Emits paralyzing spores when injured. Immune to poison.
The new creature shook itself, its breath misting faintly with spores. The kobolds backed away nervously.
"Good," Glic murmured. "Each battle feeds my army."
The third chamber opened into a cavern of towering stalks, their caps forming a natural ceiling. In the center pulsed a massive fungus—the Spore Lord, a guardian of the dungeon's first floor.
It rose as the intruders entered, its body a shifting mass of tendrils and eyes. The ground trembled with its roar, spores flooding the air.
The goblins panicked at first, choking. One collapsed. But Glic was ready.
"True Strike," he intoned, marking the beast's core with a faint glyph.
"Catapult!"
A kobold hurled a stone. Magic seized it, accelerating it like a cannonball. It slammed into the Spore Lord's chest, cracking its fungal plating.
"Bugbear—advance!"
The bugbear raised his tower shield and waded forward, absorbing tendril strikes as the wolves and lizardmen tore at the creature's base. Glic's own spell, Toll the Dead, rang out like a ghostly bell, rotting the monster's weakened tissue.
Finally, the Spore Lord collapsed, shaking the cavern.
> [Dungeon Node Secured: Floor 1.]
[Resources Identified: Spore Essence, Glowcap Fibers, Mana-Infused Mushrooms.]
The air brightened faintly as the dungeon's hostility subsided.
The System's panel appeared:
> [Do you wish to establish permanent control over the Mushroom Grove?]
– Benefits:
• Renewable monster spawns.
• Harvestable resources.
• Training ground for fused forces.
– Cost: 500 Gold, 5 Knowledge Points.
Glic didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
A surge of mana spread outward, embedding his sigil into the cavern walls. The Mushroom Grove Dungeon was no longer wild—it was his farm.
By the time the army emerged, the goblins and kobolds were dragging sacks of glowing fungi, while the lizardmen bore bundles of sporewood. The giant eagles circled above, triumphant.
Glic wiped the damp from his brow and allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction.
A dungeon in his domain meant more than wealth. It meant leverage. It meant the Goldbear Fusion Company could outproduce every noble in Drenwick combined.
But as he gazed back at the cavern mouth, he knew it also meant one thing more.
Baron Tyreth would not sit idle.
And neither would the Tower.
That night, under lamplight, Glic wrote in his ledger:
Farm Established: Mushroom Grove.
Fusion Results:
– Myco-Hound (Dire Wolf + Mushroom Hulk).
– Pending experiments with Spore Essence.
Resource Flow: Expected profit margin—400% above caravan trade.
He closed the book and whispered to himself:
"Politics may bind me. Nobles may scheme. But numbers never lie. And with this farm, my numbers will drown them all."
The spore mist still clung faintly to his cloak, glowing in the dark.