A sheet of blazing crimson fire shot from the ruby atop the staff. In an instant, every inch of ground swept by the flames, every blade of grass, turned to ash. Every stone glowed red and cracked apart. The inferno, at least seven thousand degrees hot, instantly carbonized several nearby saplings. Even through the energy-based "Minor Mage Armor," Punk found the heat nearly unbearable.
In less than a second, the flying flames reached the cluster of skeletons. The explosive firelight engulfed every skeleton, and the flames whirled like a storm as they blazed across the ground. The fierce glow illuminated the entire Forest of Undead. Every creature in the forest, including the distant skeleton soldiers, stared blankly in the direction of the swirling flames. They trembled in terror—this was the instinctive fear all living things felt when faced with something that brought destruction!
The wildly raging flames burned for dozens of seconds before gradually dying out. The undead skeletons, reduced to ash the moment the fire touched them, had left behind no trace of ever existing. Their skeletal frames, their equipment, and the female priest's "corpse" had all failed to last five seconds in that terrifying storm before vaporizing completely. Only rocks melted by the intense heat remained, transformed into slowly flowing vitreous slurry that reflected a cold gleam beneath the gloomy sky.
"This was definitely two or three times more powerful than a rocket launcher." Enduring the discomfort, Punk took a breath or two of the heated, scorching air. Many patches of ground still glowed red like branding irons.
"So this is power! Powerful strength that represents destruction—this is knowledge! Miraculous knowledge that controls destruction!" Punk murmured in awe, gently stroking the gemstone staff head, which still retained its searing heat.
After wiping the already spotless gem until it was even more spotless, Punk turned and left the "glass wasteland," which contained nothing but scorching air. Now, he would uncover the secrets of this discordant little forest and claim the spoils that were rightfully his!
The closer he came to the center of the forest, the denser the aura of undeath became. Near its center, there was even a haze formed from undead energy. Thick black mist had settled over the ground, reaching all the way to Punk's ankles. Even the Lesser Deflection Field could not block out all of the undead aura.
Punk found Mage Robe Skeletons wandering through the forest. Although their bones were mottled and cracked, Punk could still sense lingering soul energy within them. This proved that these two mages had definitely been Journeyman Level experts in life. Yet now, they had become dry bones wandering here. However—the robes worn by these former Journeyman Mages surprised Punk. They were far too intact. Aside from the dim, broken inscriptions that had lost their magical effect due to erosion by undead energy, they showed almost no other damage. The same was true of the soldiers' remains near the center. Some soldiers did not even appear to have drawn their swords. Whether bones or equipment, the undead at the center bore scarcely any signs of battle.
Punk found this increasingly strange. Logically, the deeper the enemy penetrated, the more fiercely the defenders should have resisted, and the more traces of battle there should have been. Yet this army was the complete opposite. The fighting on the outskirts seemed to have been intense, while the mages at the center—the most destructive force—had not acted at all. In the end, both the outer soldiers and the inner mages had lost their lives. Mages and soldiers who had died beyond doubt without any signs of battle could only indicate one thing: they had all died in an extremely short time. They had not even had the chance to draw their swords and prepare for combat before death claimed them!
Punk bent down, picked up a small dead branch, and had the system analyze it.
Analysis result: Short-term erosion by undead energy completely neutralized the branch's life energy within six seconds. Branch cells deceased.
"As expected." Punk tossed away the branch, letting it fall to the ground and shatter into several splinters. "The undead aura here did not come from erosion. It was produced entirely by a spell." Straightening up, Punk began to feel alarmed by the very existence of this forest. To cause destruction over such a vast area, to kill Journeyman Level warriors and mages within seconds without letting them resist, and to leave this undead aura undiminished even after nearly half a month of dispersal—this was definitely the terrifying handiwork of a Formal Level expert. Moreover, Punk knew from his inherited memories that a spell with such immense destructive power and such a broad range could be called "powerful" even among Formal Level spells!
Thinking back to the remains of the dead soldiers he had seen on the outskirts, about one-third of the skeletons seemed to have had a strip of cloth faintly visible on their shoulders. Because the dye adhered poorly and the undead energy had eroded them, the strips' patterns and colors could no longer be discerned. At the time, Punk had assumed it was some custom of the Kingdom of Kamos, like how hardworking people on Earth tied cloth bands around their heads. Besides, he had been focused on dealing with his enemies and plotting against the female priest, so he had paid no attention to such minor details. But now that he thought about it carefully, the most obvious use of such a marker was to distinguish friend from foe. The Kamos soldiers who had died outside beneath "each other's" blades must have belonged to two armies that had been hostile from the beginning. As for why both sides wore Kingdom of Kamos uniforms, he had no idea!
Punk now roughly understood what had happened in this little forest.
Two armies of the Kingdom of Kamos had met in this little forest. Perhaps one side had been an impostor army; perhaps both had been genuine armies but had split apart; perhaps both sides had even been fakes. In any case, a bloody clash had erupted here. Most likely, one side had been pursuing the other. No matter what, they had fought in this forest, and midway through the battle, a Formal Level Spellcaster had suddenly arrived. To achieve some purpose, that person had used this large-scale Evocation Spell to wipe out one army—or perhaps both—entirely. As for why the accompanying mages, who possessed the greatest destructive power, had not acted, perhaps they had been occupied restraining enemy mages, perhaps they had had reservations, or perhaps there had been some other reason. Regardless, once the Formal Level expert arrived, they had never gotten another chance to act.
"This damned mess is really complicated. It even involves a Formal Level expert. Why would a Formal Level expert descend on such an insignificant little wasteland? And a rare spellcaster at that?"
In any case, whether these events had been schemes and conspiracies or tales worthy of praise and tears, they had little to do with Punk. He had already decided that when he returned, he would say that he had killed two undead creatures from afar, stripped a few pieces of equipment from them, located a spatial coordinate, and then fled back. As for any other information, he would claim to know nothing. Presumably, once the Mage Guild obtained the spatial coordinates, it would choose to investigate on its own rather than shamelessly pester a mere apprentice like him over and over.
Having finished considering what to do after returning, Punk felt much more relaxed as he looked at the Mage Robe Skeletons still wandering about in confusion. He felt a faint thrill of delight. At last, it was time for the delightful part where I opened the loot boxes!
Before you continue