Victory

Lesser Damage works by causing a multitude of tiny, sharp Aether Energy blades to vibrate at high frequencies on a molecular level, greatly enhancing their sharpness. Tens of thousands of such blades instantly leap across spatial layers to a designated area, simultaneously performing indiscriminate internal and external cutting on all objects within a seventy-centimeter diameter. This allows for the output of immense damage in an instant. (Note: This curse spell can be intercepted by various defensive measures, including spatial defenses.) Such an attack is more than enough to deal with the Ogre, which never once considered dodging or defending itself.

As the Ogre charged forward three or four steps, the small sphere of damage magic in Punk's hand had just vanished. A small area around the Ogre's head suddenly dimmed, as if obscured by something casting a shadow. Though it lasted only a moment, it represented the Ogre taking the full force of the Lesser Damage without any defense.

However, the Ogre used its last bit of strength, relying on its physical instincts, to hurl the large wooden club fiercely at Punk.

The large wooden club whistled through the air towards Punk. The wild grass on the ground, just a meter below where the club passed, was flattened to both sides by the intense wind pressure.

Upon seeing the Ogre's intent to throw the club, Punk did not hesitate to activate the Journeyman Level Abjuration spell on his mage robe—Lesser Deflection Field—which could be used twice a day.

An invisible field expanded around him. Punk felt all external matter that came into contact with the field, whether air or dust, change its trajectory and deflect in different directions. The air within the field became much thinner for a moment, but with Punk's Physique as a Professional, he was completely unaffected.

When the club hit the field, it was as if an invisible giant hand had pushed it away. It abruptly curved and flew past Punk's right side, but Punk's face and heart showed no hint of joy, because... that direction... was where the little donkey was...

The Ogre stumbled forward two more steps purely from inertia before collapsing heavily. Its entire head looked as if it had just been pulled from a meat grinder. The skin and flesh were almost reduced to a paste by the numerous vibrating Aether Energy blades. Such dense wounds were present everywhere, both inside and out, in the Ogre's head, including its bones, brain, and flesh. As the bones supporting its form were completely shattered, the Ogre's head was no longer recognizable.

The Ogre collapsed on the wasteland with a head that had turned into a paste, only its extremities like fingers still twitching occasionally. The muscles that had swollen due to berserk rage had also shrunk back to their original state. At this point, Punk didn't even need to cast the "Lesser Life Detection" spell to be certain—this Ogre was truly dead. With a fatal injury like its brain turned into paste, even a Troll's vitality would not be enough to survive. Moreover, given the Ogre's Soul Level, its soul had likely already been devoured by the River of Fate!

Only after the Ogre stopped twitching altogether did Punk turn and walk towards the little donkey. He paid no mind to the Ogre's hide. Although its skin, with its moderate magic resistance, could be processed into a Journeyman Level magical material, Punk had no processing facilities with him. Without magical solidification, materials like Ogre hide, which were not of high grade and whose magic dissipated quickly, would turn into ordinary, fragile leather before Punk left the wasteland.

Now, Punk was more concerned about the safety of his means of transportation—the little donkey. He hoped he wouldn't see the worst outcome...

Kane, covered in dust, also climbed out of the large pit, holding his deformed shield. He first glanced at the Ogre whose head had almost turned into paste, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes, before returning to his usual carefree demeanor.

"Hey, Punk, my friend, do you have a masochistic streak? Why make it so... brutal? Or do you want to try Ogre meat stew tonight for a change of pace?"

Kane said, walking towards the little donkey's direction as well.

But halfway there, both of them stopped in unison...

A giant club was diagonally embedded in the ground, surrounded by scattered fragments of the blood-stained cart. The poor little donkey was already only half there, its lower body along with countless cart fragments... everywhere...

"Perhaps it's a good thing that I won't have to endure the strange smell of this 'walking dung heap' any longer until Konola City."

Punk's first thought was actually a touch of relief.

"...Damn it! What was the point of me fighting that mountain of meat demon with all my might, and even sacrificing my shield?!"

Kane roared in fury, waving his dented and deformed shield.

"At least your shield is still usable," Punk quipped, then casually picked up a small bag of "Moke Village Specialty" wheat bread from the scattered goods and started walking towards Konola City.

"Damn it, of course you don't care since it's not yours! Oh! My poor little donkey, I can still see the red fur on its ears trembling!"

Kane, feigning "sadness" in a dramatic tone for the deceased little donkey, slung a large bag of dried meat over his shoulder.

"Your donkey's red fur is definitely mixed with that meat paste over there," Punk said, pointing with his finger at the blood-red, viscous substance mixed with meat chunks next to the club. "If you're afraid it's cold, eating it would be more effective than spouting such nonsensical, cold remarks."

After speaking, Punk walked towards the wasteland without looking back.

"This is called kindness, this is called remembrance. You heartless fellow will never get a girlfriend..."

Kane slung his shield back onto his back, then casually hoisted his blood-and-flesh-stained lance over his shoulder before striding after Punk.

At this time, the larger red sun, "Chikasa," had also risen above the horizon, illuminating the entire wasteland. The plants of the Greenleaf Season grew quickly; the grasslands damaged by the battle would regrow within a month. The blood and gore scattered everywhere, along with the decaying corpses of their "comrades," would all become nourishment for the new, young grass.

...Separator line...

After a "long journey" that lasted seven days, Punk and Kane finally reached their destination—Konola City. Fortunately, they did not encounter the "Forest of Undead" mentioned by the Baron, nor did they meet that self-destructive merchant "friend." However, Punk had a faint premonition—this wasteland and the possibly non-existent "Forest of Undead" would inevitably intersect with him again someday.

"Oh~~ Konola City, here I come~~~"

Standing on a small hill where Konola City's formidable walls were already visible, Kane raised his lance and shouted loudly. He looked a bit like a Knight with grand ambitions, but if they heard his next sentence, those who adhered to the Knight's code would undoubtedly want to beat him up!

"Beautiful ladies, wait for me, the handsome, dashing, and charming Great Knight Kane to save you! Ohahahahaha~~"

Punk, putting on an expression of "I don't know this guy," walked down the hill.

"Konola City, huh? I hope to gain some useful knowledge..." Unconsciously, blue magic light once again flickered in Punk's eyes!