This dungeon has mushrooms growing on it.

Chapter 337, Section 336: New Rules

Inside the scarlet spire.

"My lord... how are you feeling?" The evil sorcerer Margas and an apothecary looked at Sigismund, who was slowly waking up from his chair, with a hint of nervousness.

Sigismund's gaze swept over the nearly empty bottle of Dream Potion on the table. Recalling the scene in the dream where the mysterious enemy was temporarily trapped within the dream, he said in a deep voice, "It works. I need more Dream Flowers! Send people to find them, to buy them at all costs. Gold coins are not a problem!"

The pharmacist looked troubled: "Sir, even if we were willing to pay a high price, the amount of Dream Flower circulating in the market is extremely limited. I'm afraid we could only..."

"How long can it last?" Sigismund asked directly.

"Approximately... less than a month's supply."

“Margas,” Sigismund turned to the weakened sorcerer, his voice low but carrying a rare, almost soothing tone, “I was the one who initially proposed the ‘Dream’ project, so the current predicament is not your responsibility. I’ll give you half a month to find a solution. My promise to you still stands.”

In other words, if it can't be solved, then nothing will be left.

If Margas also cannot find a solution, even if it would appear incompetent, Sigismund will have no choice but to ask His Majesty for help.

"Yes, sir!" Margas, whose strength had plummeted by two levels and who had paid a heavy price, had no way out and could only grit his teeth and agree to this last chance.

……

On the other hand, in order to truly put pressure on the demons, Duke Alama risked his life to move some of his relatively less mobile heavy infantry regiments and his valuable main force of mage regiments out of the well-defended High Fortress.

The troops were still heading towards Duke Eleanor's territory.

The battle was almost one-sided.

The individual soldiers of Eleanor's army were clearly not weak, but they were quickly routed under the overwhelming command of Alama. The Hemlock Knights were like a whirlwind of death, relentlessly hunting down and reaping the fleeing soldiers.

Unfortunately, Eleanor herself was quite outstanding in terms of stealth and mobility. In the chaotic battlefield, even Alama had difficulty locking onto and catching up with this vampire duchess who was determined to escape.

Clad in heavy magical armor, Alamar reined in his warhorse and stood in the center of the ravaged battlefield. His gaze passed over the scattered monsters and burning camp, landing on the distant, ever-silent crimson spire.

"This time, was there not even a symbolic rescue?"

Despite another victory, Alama felt a chill run down his spine.

He was now convinced that Eleanor was simply bait thrown out to draw his fire and buy him time.

Within the crimson spire, Sigismund must be secretly brewing something extremely dangerous!
It could be a massive spell powerful enough to destroy a fortress, or it could be some kind of twisted monster summoned through blood sacrifice.

In any case, Alama would never sit idly by and watch the other side successfully complete its plan.

Even if it is fraught with difficulties and comes at a high cost, he must take action!
Even if it's difficult, we have no choice but to attack the crimson spire itself!
Only in this way can Sigismund be forced to leave his lair and confront him directly.

But something feels off: "Why does it feel like I'm invading an empire?"
-
Beneath the towering city gates of Mushroom Capital, a long queue of people formed to enter the city.

In the group, Horn was happily counting the silver coins he had just received. The metallic touch on his fingertips made his mouth, covered with white mycelium, stretch from ear to ear in a wide grin.

He and his teammates had just completed an escort mission without any incidents, and easily earned the money.

"Alright, alright, stop counting your few silver coins. The constant clanging and clattering is annoying!" The old dwarf with the hammer beside him complained in a deep voice, carrying his signature warhammer. Horn grinned and stuffed the silver coins into his bulging purse, deliberately hefting them to make an even more pleasant clinking sound.

He knew perfectly well that Lao Chui was somewhat envious of the extra money he earned.

“Old Hammer,” he bent down, his arm expertly resting on the dwarf’s sturdy shoulder armor, “seriously, why don’t you become a Puji Master too? Lots of benefits!”

"What nonsense are you spouting?!" Old Hammer jerked away from his hand like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Why would I be so foolish as to let that thing parasitize me?!"

"Tsk, what parasitism, what an awful name! This is called symbiosis! It's turning the power of the Pooji into your own!" Horn curled his lip and gestured with his eyes to Noah and Amy, who were quietly following behind him. "For those two ladies, their faces are half their lives, so it's normal for them to have more concerns. But you, an old dwarf whose beard is so unkempt, surely you don't care about a few more lines on your face, do you?"

"How many times have I told you! This isn't because I can't straighten my beard! This is the traditional way of braiding the beard of the Zhafa clan!" Old Hammer was so angry that he blew his beard and glared at his opponent.

"Alright, alright, traditional, traditional." Horn waved his hand dismissively, then leaned closer and whispered enticingly, "But you really should consider the Puji Master thing. Think about it, isn't more silver coins tempting?"

Old Hammer's beard twitched a few times, as if he had really hesitated. Seeing this, Horn put on an even more enthusiastic sales pitch.

It wasn't that he really cared whether Lao Chui could earn more money, but rather that, subconsciously, Horn hoped to have more "like-minded" people around him so that he wouldn't have to stand out.

Amidst the incessant chatter of the bugle, the four people, along with the dozen or so round, plump poopy dogs following the bugle, passed through the massive city gate after undergoing inspection and registration, following the flow of people.

However, they had only taken a few steps into the city when a staff member wearing a "Puji Master Professional Association" badge on his chest raised his hand to stop them.

“Sir, please wait a moment.” The staff member approached the horn, his tone polite but firm, “You can’t just walk around the city streets with all the Puji like this.”

"What do you mean?" Horn was taken aback, not quite understanding.

"According to the latest regulations of Modu Street Management," the staff member explained skillfully, "a Puji artist can carry a maximum of two Puji at the same time in a public area. Carrying more than that, causing traffic congestion or obstructing citizens, will result in a fine."

"No... what about my other Puji? I can't just leave them outside the city to fend for themselves, can I?" Horn asked in astonishment, pointing at the Puji behind him.

"Over there," the staff member said, turning to the side and pointing to a multi-story circular building covered with a thick fungal carpet in the distance, "please store any extra Puji at the 'Puji Storage.' The storage facility has special fungal carpets that can replenish the Puji's magic power around the clock, and there are dedicated personnel to oversee and register them. The association will be responsible for compensation and handling any problems that arise during this time. It's safe, reliable, and trustworthy!"

Horn opened his mouth, but was speechless for a moment. He felt that Mushroom City was developing too fast, and he was already falling behind the times after only being away for a short time.

He reluctantly followed the signs and headed towards the peculiar safe house.

With the help of the staff at the storage facility, he applied for two storage slots.

Each slot can hold ten Puji, and the daily storage fee for each slot is one copper coin.

The price wasn't expensive, but the unexpected extra daily expenses made Horn feel like he was losing money.

He walked out of the Puji Storage with a disgruntled expression, leaving only the two Puji following at his feet. Hearing Noah and Amy's suppressed but still audible laughter behind him, and remembering the Puji Master's mission restrictions, he couldn't help but mutter a complaint: "There are just too many rules..."

Wanting to inquire at the Rotten Willow Tavern about any unusual rules lately, they were drawn to a crowd on the way, where two guards were standing watch over a huge official notice board.

Following the example of other Puji masters, Horn held his two Puji on his head to prevent them from being trampled by the crowd.

After finally squeezing in, I saw the notice board:
[Puji Division New Army Recruitment]
(End of this chapter)