They Wanted a Hero. They Made a Monster: Born at the Bottom
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 21: Roots of Resistance
Morning sunlight filtered through curtains embroidered with wisteria, weaving patterns of broken gold across the oak floor.
The young woman curled against the velvet cushions was still asleep.
“Mmm ... perfect...”
Three measured knocks drew her out of her pleasant dream.
“Good morning, Lady Elara.” Steward Edmund’s voice came through the door. “Your new magic instructor will be arriving shortly. Please prepare yourself in advance.”
Since Elara’s return, Edmund had attended her personally on the duke’s orders, arranging her daily affairs and ensuring her safety. The duke himself was tied down at the border by the Veiled Empire’s constant small-scale military provocations.
“I know, Uncle Edmund. I’ll be out soon.”
After his footsteps receded, Elara stretched, climbed out of bed, and began arranging her own hair.
By custom, the ducal estate had maids to dress and groom Lady Elara, but since coming home, she had refused to let anyone else tend her. Everyone assumed the betrayal had left her more guarded than before, and the entire household sympathized deeply with what she had endured.
That was not the real reason.
Elara slipped a hand into her pink hair and felt the back of her head. A tiny pink cap grew there, the exact same color as her hair.
She had told no one about her time in the dungeon or about the little mushroom. Evan had asked her to keep the first secret. As for the second, she was not entirely sure why she hid it.
Perhaps she knew that if anyone found out, they would try to remove the little cap, and she wanted to keep it.
Once her hair was pinned in place, Elara went to the window and basked in the sunlight’s warmth.
“What lovely weather. I wonder what Evan is doing now. Has he managed to kill an Earthborer since I left?”
Ha ha ha ha!
Yes, that’s it! Blast those disgusting things to pieces!
In the Fifth Stratum’s Marsh Zone, a war between Puffcaps and Parasitic Trees was raging at full force.
More than a hundred light-armored Puffcaps, stripped of shells and equipped instead with [Dodge LV7], traded attacks with a mass of Parasitic Trees.
The more Evan fought them, the more frustrated he became. Ultimately, it all came down to the miserable returns.
[Parasitic Fusion] was a decent skill. It could infest any fleshy humanoid creature. A small portion of the enemy force consisted of Parasitic Trees rooted in Gnoll bodies, which were the easiest variety to handle.
The problem was that Parasitic Fusion at LV1 was practically no different from Parasitic Fusion at LV10.
It could only infest creatures already near death. Leveling the skill merely allowed it to infest creatures that were slightly less near death. What kind of improvement was that? Any creature Evan wanted to infest would already be his prisoner. He could reduce its HP to whatever level he pleased. Why would he need that paltry advantage?
There was no real profit in the skill at all.
[Bind] was much the same. Having it was enough; higher levels were pointless. Evan fought through the refined art of bombardment. He had no use for primitive tactics involving mycelial tendrils.
In the end, only [Toughness] offered some value. It made hyphae more resilient, which naturally improved the Puffcaps’ defenses and strengthened their mycelial tendrils.
Useful, but barely.
The price he had paid for those meager gains was another matter entirely.
Over the past few days, Evan had encountered several high-level hosts, and every one had inflicted serious losses. To him, the Parasitic Trees were little more than cockroaches now: revolting to look at, yet impossible to ignore. After all, he still needed to take their marsh.
Mushrooms really were suited to marshland. The temperature and humidity were both ideal, and more importantly, the swamp was rich in mana.
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