Li Ziran piloted his robot toward the rainforest where the Elves lived, surrounded by Dark Giant Bears.
Even now, the little insects at the edge of the rainforest were still widening the deep shaft. Its entrance already covered over a hundred square meters, resembling a natural volcanic crater.
Black smoke spread through the air, with blasts of fiery heat erupting from time to time. The entire sky was a sickly, sulfurous yellow.
The Dungeon Legion, which had stretched far into the distance, began drawing back toward the rim of the shaft and entering it in orderly ranks.
They had welcomed Li Ziran. Their mission was complete.
What they did not realize was that their brazen march across the Grasslands, particularly those Ghosts who communicated only through images, was carrying the name "Li Ziran" into every remote corner of the Wasteland.
Previously, people had known only that he was the founder of organology, someone associated with mages. Ordinary people had never imagined that his name could have anything to do with them.
They were ordinary people without witchcraft. They could not simply transplant organs.
But things were different now. The vast Dungeon Legion had sent his name surging through the land, and the images the Ghosts exchanged showed no trace of witchcraft.
Even the most ordinary people were asking where that name had come from.
The Orcs were the first to stir. They had been affected most strongly by the Dungeon, and some had even obtained images of organ transplantation from the Dungeon Legion.
Organ transplantation, considered the pinnacle of expertise on the Red Soil Continent, had already become the most basic knowledge in the Dungeon.
The Orcs clumsily copied the procedures shown in the images. Their techniques were crude, but the images explained many details, and they discovered that the