Who unplugged her internet?!
The mushroom panicked.
Even someone as calm as her could not defend against a zero-frame startup like this. It was too fast, leaving no time for a reaction.
Fear.jpg
She quickly switched her consciousness to another part of her main body.
Good, everything was normal.
It meant she still had a backup plan, so there was no need to worry too much. However, after getting used to the special vision provided by the Fungal Network, suddenly returning to the state she was in when she had first reincarnated as a mushroom caused her heart to sink. She felt a profound sense of melancholy.
‘I thought I had restarted from a save point. How terrifying.’
She did not want to experience that period of weakness as mere fodder ever again.
Since there was nothing wrong on her end, the only possibility was that something had happened to the Elf.
Precisely because she could not even sense Lumina’s existence, she began to reasonably suspect that her experiences with the Elf were nothing more than an imagined dream. She feared that upon waking, she would return to being a mushroom with nothing to her name.
Thinking about it, all of this felt rather surreal, didn’t it?
But thankfully, it was not a dream. The Elf had simply died.
The mushroom sobbed and lamented, “Lumina, you died so fragrant… no, so tragically. Such a young life, such a youthful body… Hehe.”
Her voice was filled with sorrow as she feigned composure, but tears of hunger—unbecomingly—leaked from the corners of her mouth. She truly felt “pained” by the loss of her friend.
Lumina suddenly bolted upright, clutching her dizzy head in shock and uncertainty.
She saw a wicked Purple Mushroom standing before her. Mycelium, like the tentacles of an octopus, spread upward from the ground, slowly covering every inch of her skin.
She looked like a carefully wrapped gift. Not only were there red marks pressed into her skin, but she was also being manipulated into various strange poses to be served on a dining table, like an exquisite dish presented on a white porcelain plate.
The mushroom brandished a knife and fork wildly. A sharp, giant mouth split open beneath the mushroom cap, and a strange, hoarse voice repeatedly whispered a bizarre phrase: “Sister, you smell so good.”
What a horrible nightmare.
She subconsciously curled up, clutching her staff and shrinking into a ball, as if this was the only way to find a sliver of peace.
“You’re finally awake. Are you okay?”
Although the perception was blurred and chaotic, the Elf was indeed not dead. After all, Marlow’s method of confirmation included the System Panel in addition to her own senses.
As long as the System Panel was there, everything was fine. The next step was just figuring out how to wake the Elf up.
That was also simple. Using the mycelium inside the Elf’s body to create pain for stimulation would probably work.
If that failed, she could only say sorry—she was still quite greedy for this fresh, living body.
“Marlow? Where am I?”
The Elf’s voice was even softer than usual, weak and powerless, as if she were about to melt.
“You probably hit your head pretty hard, resulting in a slight concussion. You’re just in a daze, like you just woke up…”
It was actually a bit more serious than that. Earlier, Marlow had been unable to sense the Elf’s consciousness at all.
“But what exactly did you hit? And where did you knock us into?”
The Elf tried to recall, rubbing her forehead and muttering, “How could I have hit something? There was clearly nothing there. Wait, could it be…”
She sprang up, no longer looking weak. She whispered “Illuminate” to the gem on her staff.
Magic always had its uses. She had specifically chosen this skill to deal with exactly this kind of situation.
Marlow could actually see a little bit.
Relying only on the small amount of mycelium on the Elf, her vision was incomplete. She could only guess that this was a square box—or rather, a room.
The floor was a single, solid piece of stone. Mycelium could not take root there, and even if she forced it to expand using mana, she could not maintain it for long.
Even the MP on the System Panel did not recover as quickly here as it did outside.
Perhaps the so-called mana and the MP bar on the panel were the same thing, and the reason it could not recover naturally was that there was no mana in this space.
Or perhaps there was, but it was so thin that even a low-consumption, self-sufficient existence like the mycelium could not sustain itself for long.
That was basically the same as it not existing at all.
She did not dwell on it for long. As the faint light of the Illuminate spell lit up the room, they finally saw the full picture of their surroundings.
Well, reality was sometimes so cruel that people would rather run away than know the truth. After all, ignorance at least provided a bit of hope to keep living.
This was a completely sealed room, roughly 2 meters in length, width, and height. It was narrow and nonsensical, making its purpose impossible to discern.
Perhaps it was a prison-like trap, meant to trap those who accidentally fell in until they died.
However, Marlow did not see any “drops” from predecessors—no skeletons, no carvings on the walls, and no adventurer’s equipment.
They could not be so unlucky as to be the very first people to experience this trap, could they?
Compared to her, the Elf was much calmer. Holding the light source, she moved toward a corner as if searching for a hidden mechanism.
The room was small. If there was indeed a trick to it, the result would appear quickly.
Marlow did not disturb her and simply waited patiently.
The mushroom could not help much anyway. At most, if nothing was found and they were trapped in this hellhole, she could accompany the Elf until her final moments.
Fortunately, the ending was not so tragic. As the little Elf touched a certain mechanism, a treasure chest suddenly appeared in the center of the empty room.
It was an ordinary chest, made of six wooden boards of unknown material joined together, with a layer of sheet iron wrapped haphazardly around the edges. It did not look broken, but one could tell at a glance that there were no good items inside.
“A Hidden Room,” Marlow muttered thoughtfully.
“It’s a Hidden Room!”
The Elf was even more excited, even giving a small hop. The light source in her hand bobbed up and down like a child waving a sparkler.
Marlow thought regretfully that the Elf could have jumped as hard as she wanted; she likely would not have hit her head.
However, their conceptual understanding of a “Hidden Room” was consistent. This world truly was filled with many game elements.
“Hurry and open it.”
Even though the chest looked shabby, the process of opening one was always anticipated. Even Marlow could not help but urge the Elf to see what was inside.
“This is my first time seeing a Hidden Room, too,” Lumina said, her eyes practically sparkling. “This is one of the most anticipated events in the Labyrinth. Although there aren’t many good things in the first few floors, just encountering one is enough to brag about.”
She rubbed her hands together excitedly, then placed them on the edge of the chest lid and took a deep breath.
Although her words were full of mental preparation for getting trash, she still clearly wanted to strike it rich and find something rare and precious.
Lumina pulled hard, but awkwardly, the chest lid did not budge.
It denied the Elf’s access.
Refusing to believe it, she tried again. Her stomach tightened, her legs straightened, and the soft flesh of her arms tensed into the outlines of muscle. Her face bore a look of great strain, as if she were struggling with constipation.
“Um, is it possible that the opening is on the other side?” the mushroom kindly reminded her.
Hearing Marlow’s voice, Lumina froze. She held her pose for several seconds before rubbing the back of her head, laughing it off as she switched sides.
“Oh, is that so? I see. You’re really amazing.”
Marlow felt that the Elf had truly grown.
The girl was actually able to remain calm and expressionless in the face of such embarrassment. In the past, this would have been absolutely unimaginable.
Fortunately, Marlow still found a crack in that calm, stiff expression… a hint of pink spread from the base of her ears to the tips. The Elf’s pointed ears looked as bright and fresh as red apples.
Well, it was worth deliberately waiting a bit before speaking up to remind her.
Once she had the right direction, the chest lid opened smoothly. Amidst an imaginary golden light, they saw the contents.
It was a set of Priest robes.
Or, to put it in game terms, calling it armor would be more appropriate.
[**Devotee’s Raiment**]
[**Defense: 10**]
[**Equip Effect**]: Nullify one attack. Cooldown: 1 day.
*A casual creation of Heraglas, the God of the Hearth in the Celestial Realm—What else did you stuff in there, Heraglas? Didn’t I tell you not to add such ridiculous things!*
The design was similar to the Elf’s previous clothing: a white skirt, a top resembling a small suit jacket, and two stole-like decorations hanging from the shoulders to the skirt.
Lumina stroked the lightweight fabric, tears of relief falling from her eyes.
She had thought she was already used to the two cool strips of cloth she had been wearing. Only now did she realize that some things could not be gotten used to; she had simply made a temporary compromise because she had no choice.
Now, there was no need to submit to Mushroom Miss’s strange aesthetic anymore.
The Elf suddenly began to strip while crying. Marlow was startled and naturally closed her eyes.
‘See no evil.’
Though there was nothing she hadn’t already seen, she still did it subconsciously.
Having passed the test, she truly was a person of integrity.
Though testing an official with something like this was a bit too easy.
As the saying goes, “Fine clothes make the man.” Once the Elf changed into the new clothes, she looked much more vibrant. She looked more like her class—a kind and approachable Priest.
However, Marlow’s attention was more on the description of the item.
The mention of the “Celestial Realm” on the panel confirmed the Elf’s legend about the gods. The latter half of the description almost indicated that the game-like system was related to the gods.
Deliberately adding Hidden Rooms to the Labyrinth and placing treasure chests—was it just to attract more people to explore?
If it was just something the gods created out of boredom to pass the time, that was one thing. She feared the reason was not that simple.
And then there was Heraglas, the God of the Hearth. This was an unfamiliar name outside the four major gods. She didn’t know what his current status was.
Furthermore, even a god was shocked by the “ridiculousness” of this garment. It shouldn’t be this simple. Could there be some hidden function?
There was indeed. Once the Elf put it on, the white skirt gained a green border, and decorative elements like green leaves, fawns, and golden ears of wheat appeared on the clothing.
The ability to adjust its appearance based on the wearer was indeed magical, but there had to be more to it.
“How is it, Lumina? Is this dress a powerful treasure?”
The Elf hugged herself tightly and shook her head nervously. “Give up on your schemes, Marlow. There is absolutely no way I am letting these clothes turn into what I was wearing before.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Marlow said grumpily. “I just want to know how our luck is.”
“It’s alright. Even the most basic iron armor provides 5 Defense points to the wearer. 10 points is neither too much nor too little for a Black Iron adventurer. As for nullifying one attack… well, although it says that, this kind of effect usually fails if the attack exceeds the absorption limit. So, it’s just okay.”
Lumina held her staff and gave a light twirl.
She said with great resentment, “The biggest use for this outfit is to replace that set of clothes that was so tattered it was barely recognizable.”
A long-held worry had been resolved, so even if the loot from the chest wasn’t great, she could accept it happily.
Marlow was deep in thought.
The Elf didn’t know the origin of the clothes, but Marlow knew very well.
Even if it was a “cheap” filler item for a chest, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it an artifact.
Since it could make a god exclamation, it would definitely not be ordinary.
‘Nullify one attack…’ Could it be that, literally, it was a conceptual effect?
She felt she had likely hit upon the truth.
Looking at the Elf, who was still rubbing her cheek against her new clothes, Marlow thought strangely:
‘Is this girl really the protagonist?’
To be able to find a loophole like this—her luck was truly out of the ordinary.