Level six, rift’s edge.
A cluster of treants gathered, gnarled roots scraping rock with faint whispers.
One treant stretched a branch toward the dark below, leaves trembling with excitement. “Boss… is it true? We can really go down?”
Little Green, nearby, swatted it lightly. “Don’t question the boss!”
“Sorry… I’m just too thrilled…”
“No worries,” Lin Jun said, unfazed. “Since you’re so eager, you go first.”
“Me? First?!”
Lin Jun commanded the treant’s bat Puffshrooms to grab its main branch, wings flapping, lifting it off the ground toward the rift’s daunting depths.
Other treants fell silent, nervously watching their kin descend, nearing the lightning-trigger line…
No thunder sparked.
“It worked! I’m fine! I made it!” the treant reported via the Mycelial Network, its form vanishing into the dark below.
“As I said,” Lin Jun added, “below’s got wider space, richer mana, and no pesky human adventurers poking around. I’m moving you all down there.”
After days of probing the dungeon core’s maze, Lin Jun found the level access controls.
Not the air-wall switches between stairs, but native beast permissions.
Dungeon creatures spawned and died daily. Pinpointing these treants in the shifting starfield of the core was a pain.
But once found, he could grant or revoke their movement rights.
Adventurers, Little Black, Norris—they weren’t in this starfield. Just local beasts.
“Boss,” Little Green reported respectfully, “the saplings we planted last time are now demon trees, but many haven’t awakened. Some members need to stay and tend them.”
“Fine,” Lin Jun agreed. “Leave those below this level’s cap to care for the saplings. Little Green, take everyone at the cap down first.”
Simple reason: the treant that reached the rift’s bottom jumped from level 30’s bottleneck to 31 in minutes!
Soon, over half the treants were ferried down by bat Puffshrooms.
Lin Jun assigned them mana-rich, plant-packed caverns as starter homes to adapt and reshape the environment.
He’d studied treants long ago.
Ordinary ones like Little Green capped at level 50.
Rare variants had higher potential, but not these.
Level 50 wasn’t bad.
Cavemen, for comparison, capped at 35, below Gold-tier.
But cavemen outbred treants—egg-layers, a dozen per clutch.
In harsh past conditions, with danger and scarce food, few survived.
Now, safe and stuffed with mushrooms, their numbers swelled by nearly a hundred in months.
If not for their nasty habits, Lin Jun might’ve prioritized them.
Pity…
Done with treants, Lin Jun turned to level ten’s werewolves.
Once equals to vampires, now dungeon-bound, he wondered if movement rights could win their loyalty.
Dropping in himself lacked credibility. He needed a mouthpiece.
Little Blue crouched by the stairs, idly flicking his tail.
Since bonding with Puffshrooms, he spent half his days waiting here.
Lately, he seemed down. Not for missing Puffshrooms, but because his trimmed fur made him a laughingstock among werewolves.
They said his fur looked rabbit-chewed…
He didn’t blame Puffshrooms. That hair growth potion opened a glimpse of the outside world, feeding his curiosity.
Compared to that vast horizon, fur woes were temporary. He’d clawed back at his mockers anyway.
Glancing at the empty stairwell, he figured no big mushroom today.
As he stood to leave, his nose caught a familiar yet strange scent.
He dropped low, sniffing the ground and air, tracking it closer…
The air shimmered. A Puffshroom appeared, its mycelium tendrils blocking his wet nose.
“Big Mushroom, you can do that?” Little Blue gasped, then sniffed again, puzzled. “But… your scent’s different from last time?”
“Stop sniffing me. I can’t smell myself,” the Puffshroom said, landing on his furry shoulder. “Remember what I told you last time?”
“The pro groomer thing?”
“Not that… taking you down.”
“Really?!” Little Blue’s ears shot up, eyes wide. “Now? Right now?”
“Yup, now!”
“How?”
“Just walk down.”
Skeptical, Little Blue edged to the stairs, paw probing forward. The expected air wall was gone—his paw passed freely.
Stunned, he stepped into the stairwell, one careful pace at a time!
“No tricks!” the Puffshroom said.
“How…?” Little Blue glanced around. “The old pack said only…”
“Only what?” Lin Jun asked.
Little Blue hesitated, then said, “They said only the Demon King’s return lets us wolves leave!”
He descended, paw brushing the cold, rough stone wall, each step slow and deliberate. His furry head swiveled, soaking in the mundane tunnel with relish.
Halfway, he paused, worried. “Uh… once I go down, can I come back up?”
“No way! From now on, this door’s wide open for you!”
Little Blue took a deep breath of the damp air, chest heaving with excitement. “Like… a dream.”
They reached the bottom, stepping into a vast cavern, once the Fire Demon’s, now free of lava.
“I really… came down!” Little Blue froze, staring at the Puffshroom. “Are you the Demon King?”
“Nope. I’m the Hero,” Lin Jun said plainly.
Two seconds of silence, then Little Blue clutched his belly, laughing. “Knew it! The old pack’s tales are bunk!”
(End of Chapter)
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