A stubborn fool unafraid of death!

With such ironclad mental defenses, prying out intelligence would clearly take a long time.

That left Lin Jun troubled.

He suddenly recalled the old booklet he had once found inside a hidden chest. Back then, with his low-level Elvish, he could only half-guess at the text, so he had shelved it without reading in detail.

Now, perhaps this booklet might connect to Pelagel and his companions?

Reading it himself was pointless—with Elvish at only LV6, reading was half guesswork.

Fortunately, this time his team had just the right “master of languages.”

…

A Puji set the worn booklet beside the Yellow Book.

[?]

“Translate,” Lin Jun ordered bluntly.

[Understood!]

The Yellow Book immediately began its work. One by one, its pages reflected translations of the booklet. It wasn’t very thick, and the task was quickly finished.

The results, however, disappointed Lin Jun.

This wasn’t some record of secrets. Most of its content described the “Mist,” condemning it as a “cancer of the world,” claiming it devoured all things and reduced what it touched to chaos.

At the end, it accused the current Elven Court of hiding in seclusion, ignoring the upheavals of the outside world, warning: when disaster truly arrived, it would be too late.

Small wonder such rhetoric had been locked away to gather dust.

The passages on the Mist did echo that elf’s street-corner speech Lin Jun had overheard. But as for links to Pelagel’s group spreading Frenzy, they seemed tenuous.

Sigh… So beneath the harmony of the elves, problems still ran deep.

Still, on one point Lin Jun agreed: the Mist was a cancer on the world.

According to what he knew of history, the Western Isles had once boasted over a thousand islands, a hub courted by every major faction.

Now only three hundred remained, their importance greatly diminished.

Everyone knew: one day, the Mist would swallow the archipelago entirely.

But what then?

Would the Mist spread further, devouring the mainland?

Though it had no precedent, Lin Jun thought it entirely possible.

In the long run, the Mist was indeed a threat that deserved the highest attention. Ideally, all races would set aside grudges, unite, explore its source, and seek solutions.

But in the present world of war and intrigue, who had the strength to care?

The humans and demons nearest the isles were already tearing each other apart.

As for dwarves and elves, distance itself was a barrier no will could easily overcome.

Thus Lin Jun saw the flaw in the booklet’s call: even if the Elven Court cared about the Mist, what could they do?

Send expeditions, only to be accused by humans of spying?

Yet for Lin Jun, the central question was not the Mist itself but—how long could he

live?

He was a mushroom, after all!

Might he suddenly wither tomorrow, dying of natural lifespan? Not impossible.

If he had only years or decades left, why should he care about the Mist’s future?

After his death, what did it matter if the world fell to the Mist?

But if he could live for centuries, or gain near-eternal life like a vampire… then the problem became dire indeed.

For now, though, the Mist was not his concern.

If neither humans nor demons cared, why should a mushroom?

With little gained from the booklet, Lin Jun handed the Yellow Book back to Norris.

As for the Frenzy, he couldn’t abandon the elf angle. Pelagel’s will was strong, but continual strain would eventually erode it.

Given enough time and attempts, he would surely break through that defense and extract the truth.

Still, he couldn’t rely solely on interrogation. He might need to assemble an exploration team, send them deeper into the Divine Wood Dungeon, and investigate firsthand.

Lin Jun had a hunch: spreading Frenzy wasn’t the end goal.

Even if every monster in the dungeon turned rabid and fought to extinction, who would truly benefit?

…Well, maybe he would, feasting on corpses.

Following that line of thought:

The elves would see Frenzy spreading, the ecosystem collapsing. Then his Mycelium Carpet and Pujis would expand naturally to “take over” the floors, looking entirely reasonable…

The biggest beneficiary… was himself!

Lin Jun almost suspected he was the mastermind.

Still, the Oath of the Ark likely had motives he could not yet see. That exploration team would have to uncover them.

Two options came to mind:

First, guide the elves into noticing abnormalities and let them take the lead.

After all, this was their territory. Lin Jun was an outsider—no reason to shoulder all the trouble himself.

But the flaw was that Pujis couldn’t infiltrate elf teams to provide real-time intel.

Second option: send his own.

Since this would be beyond the Mycelium Carpet’s reach, his direct influence would be limited. At most, he could guide a scout Puji or two via [Familiar Control].

But considering the dangers of the deep floors, plus the unknowns of Frenzy, and such a vague mission goal—this would be extremely high risk.

Sending a demonkin was too wasteful. Losing their magic cores was a far greater loss than casualties.

That left the prisoners.

Yet their combat ability was questionable, as the elf skirmish had proved.

That lizardman mage who got instantly killed was bad enough. The rest controlled Pujis clumsily, with no tactics.

Different controllers’ Pujis even interfered with each other’s paths of attack.

In short: undertrained, weak.

Though prisoners, they were also potential future subordinates. Too many losses would sting Lin Jun as well.

If he had to send someone, it should be strong individuals—like… that half-demon chief.

…

Far north, Bastaldos, the former half-demon chieftain, was scattering mushrooms to the fatworms when a Marshal Puji walked toward him.

He sighed heavily.

He had a premonition—his easy days were over.