“Don’t these need to be buried in the ground?”

“I’m not a plant…”

Honestly, did people in this world really not know the difference between fungi and plants?

The Cattle-Horse Pujis had already hauled all the Fire Mosquito corpses and larvae scraps back to the Mushroom Garden.

Fire Mosquitoes, built for agility and evasion, had fragile bodies. Once struck by Mushroom Cannons or smashed by armored Pujis, they rarely left whole corpses.

Now their remains were spread evenly across the cultivation zone. Already, the first batches had begun to sprout threads of mycelium.

Dissecting these corpses provided Lin Jun with both skill proficiency and mana. Individually, Fire Mosquitoes didn’t hold much, but in bulk the gains were impressive.

And all of that mana was funneled straight into new Puji production.

Normally, the Mushroom Garden could sustain around 300 Pujis by natural mana absorption—100 of those were logistics, with the rest fighters.

But this time Lin Jun planned to push past the limit, mass-producing 400 combat Pujis at once, all dedicated to the upcoming Earthworm Hunt.

After the operation, if too many survived, he’d cull them. Success mattered more than efficiency.

There wasn’t another Fire Mosquito nest nearby to provide such abundant resources. If this attempt failed, it could be years before he had another chance.

“Lin Jun, look! I think I gained a new talent!”

Inanna was toying with Water Serpent again. Lin Jun had seen her use it in battle—honestly, it was pathetic.

Short range, weak damage, and even when it hit directly, it couldn’t kill a mosquito. Its only plus was limited remote control, which, under Inanna’s clumsy handling, turned into a liability.

Compared to Ice Blade, it was utterly crushed.

Even she had noticed. After two attempts, she had stopped using it.

But now the watery serpent coiled gracefully around her, circling like a tiny azure dragon—far beyond her normal skill.

Lin Jun immediately pulled up her panel.

Sure enough—she had reached LV30. Even with just a fraction of the Fire Mosquito XP, it was enough for two levels.

Her fixed effects now included:

【Favor of the Elemental Spirit: The Elemental Spirit aids the caster in controlling spells】

“Try Ice Blade—hit that rock.”

He pointed to a boulder a hundred meters away. For a Puji, practically point-blank.

“Eh? Okay, I’ll try.”

The moment she cast, Lin Jun knew her aim was way off. But in flight, the blade corrected its course, clipping the rock’s edge.

“I-it actually hit?!”

Inanna’s face was pure disbelief.

If she hadn’t been that

far off, it might have landed dead center. For it to adjust even from her horrid angle—Elemental Spirits were no joke.

Lin Jun also noticed her Water Serpent hadn’t vanished when she switched spells.

So it was like… AI auto-assist? Only here, the “AI” was an Elemental Spirit.

Which meant this world had Elemental Spirits woven into its magic system—something he hadn’t realized until now.

And it clarified something else: like him, humans gained fixed abilities every ten levels.

Inanna called them Talents.

So it wasn’t unique to him. Other races and monsters probably had similar milestones.

The difference was that hers auto-unlocked, while he always got a “three-choice” option.

Glancing at his own LV44, Lin Jun noted he still had a while before his next choice.

The following days, Lin Jun buried himself in his massive project: mass troop production.

Finally, his long-stalled Mental Synchronization skill leveled up to 6, letting him control such an expanded army.

Even then, it consumed nearly all his focus—no time to banter with Inanna.

Not that she minded. She was completely absorbed in experimenting with her new talent.

With the Spirit’s help, her Ice Blades corrected mid-flight, Illumination Orbs hovered around her like loyal familiars, Water Mirror became a flawless 360° defense.

Her clumsy casting had been transformed into something smooth, elegant, and deadly.

Though, for weaker spells like Purification or Mud Swamp, the Spirit had no effect—its role was control, not raw power.

Day by day, preparations neared completion.

Then, a heavy surge of mana shook the air outside the Garden.

“Lin Jun… what’s happening? Why does it feel so oppressive?”

Even Inanna, without mana-sensing, felt the shockwaves—like aftershocks from a distant earthquake. Lin Jun, with his spores spread as sensors, saw mana rippling like endless waves crashing against him.

He quickly pinpointed the source.

The Flame Demon’s lair.

Relieved it wasn’t heading their way, he calmed the frightened Inanna and returned to finishing his army.

It wasn’t that he didn’t fear the Flame Demon. Far from it. It was the strongest monster he’d seen—he always kept wary watch.

If it ever moved toward the Garden, he’d abandon everything and flee instantly.

But so far, it never had.

In fact, the Flame Demon was practically a shut-in.

Not like him, rooted in place, but genuinely lazy. Content to soak in lava, it rarely stirred.

But rarely didn’t mean never. He had recorded three outings.

Each time, mana waves like these shook the caverns—likely it went off to fight. Against who or what, Lin Jun had no idea. His mapped area was far too small to tell.

His old plan to escape the Dungeon had been to slip past while it was gone. But that was gambling with death—sometimes it returned in hours, sometimes after days.

Too risky. That’s why he’d chosen tunneling instead.

As for now… he just hoped its brawl didn’t mess with his Earthworm Hunt.