Konola's Inevitable Demise

Put's death was meaningful. He bought Punk and Kane a full five seconds, not much, but enough for them to put a significant distance between themselves as they retreated at supercar speeds. There was no way those two rogues could catch up now.

"Oh~, the great Mr. Put sacrificed himself! He saved us! He's a venerable saint!"

Knowing they were out of danger, the two slowly reduced their speed. As soon as Kane was out of danger, he immediately reverted to his usual flippant, playful attitude. He adopted an exaggerated, operatic tone, mimicking a mournful bard as he "praised" Put for "sacrificing himself for the people"!

"No need to put on a sad act!"

Punk continued running forward without looking back.

"In the face of such a major strategic defeat, the death of a weak mage is perfectly normal."

Punk's voice was as deep and cold as ever. The wind from his rapid sprint billowed his mage robe, making it flap noisily. In the moonlit wilderness, both Punk and Kane appeared as blurry streaks of light due to their extreme speed, making them impossible to discern.

"Alright, alright."

Kane shrugged as he ran. "I guess I was overthinking it. With so many good Journeyman Level fighters dead in this night raid, tomorrow's battle is basically a guaranteed loss. Mainesi must be swamped right now, so he wouldn't have time to care how a minor mage died."

Although Kane's words were cold, they were spot on. Even though Mainesi had sent out "off-the-books" mercenary Professionals to prevent the loss of "elites," these Professionals still accounted for half of Konola City's existing Journeyman Level Professionals. Furthermore, the enemy already had more strong individuals than Konola City. Now that they had lost nearly half of their "elites" in one go, tomorrow's city defense battle was already shaping up to be a "brutal massacre."

"Looks like we won't be able to hold out for a week," Kane complained loudly. "I fought for two days and didn't get a single thing exchanged! If I run now, won't all my work be for nothing? I'm so pissed!"

Kane, who clearly lacked Battle Skills, was visibly unhappy with this fruitless situation.

"At least after all this effort tonight, Mainesi won't give us nothing," Punk said calmly. He didn't know if the defense could continue. After all, Mainesi was an old Formal Level expert, and no one knew what trump cards he had up his sleeve. But returning after a night like this would surely bring many benefits. Otherwise, if so many Professionals risked their lives for "justice" and made great "sacrifices," and Mainesi offered no "compensation"... all the soldiers would be disheartened!

Kane undoubtedly knew this as well, which was precisely why the two of them were rushing back to Konola City overnight.

The Greenleaf Season nights passed quickly. Unknowingly, a hint of dawn had appeared on the horizon. The faint light made Konola City less gloomy. At least... the large patches of dried blood on the city walls were still faintly visible.

Punk and Kane had reached the small hill where they had first seen Konola City. Unlike Kane, who stared at the ruined Konola City with feigned sentimentality, Punk was looking down, intently examining the staff that had lost its head.

The purpose of a staff was to amplify magic. Except for a very small number of staves designed for melee mages, most staves were not designed from the outset to directly face sharp weapons. Punk's staff was clearly one of the majority.

Punk gently pinched the clean break of the staff with his hand. Tiny pieces of wood were easily crushed and fell away. From the moment the staff lost its core – its head – it had lost all its magical effects. As time passed, the magic that had been solidified within the staff began to dissipate. Punk could almost feel the magic in the staff slowly vanishing into the air... This was not a high-level staff, after all. Within five magical hours of its complete destruction, it had lost its peculiar iron-like hardness. Now...

Punk's face remained calm and serene in the dim moonlight. He gently opened his slender, smooth fingers. Fine wood dust, carrying the last vestiges of magical light, sprinkled from between his fingers, scattering in the wind and falling to the earth. In the night, it looked like azure starlight sparks, beautiful and ethereal.

"Hey, hey, I'm saying, you're not still heartbroken over this useless broken stick, are you?"

Kane, as usual, was adept at shattering beautiful imagery.

"I'm just experiencing the process of enchantment decay," Punk replied coldly. He casually tossed the damaged staff onto the ground. The staff easily shattered into several pieces of cracked wood. Punk then turned without hesitation and walked towards Konola City, which was brushed by the first light of dawn. He never looked back at the broken wooden stick again.

On Konola's city walls, Mainesi maintained his profound expression of "unflappable composure even if Mount Tai collapsed before him." However, no matter how much he appeared to be "in control," the pervasive atmosphere throughout the city could not be dispelled. As dawn arrived, only three of the 24 Journeyman Level Professionals who had gone on the night raid returned "disheveled." Even the "Kamos Protectorate Army" soldiers, who had sworn to die for Her Highness the Princess, felt a chill in their hearts. Reality was not a novel. When the enemy became utterly invincible overnight, basic survival instincts would more likely foster the fear of "fleeing" rather than the courage to "fight to the death." The "regular army" soldiers could still barely stand on the city walls, tightly gripping swords dulled by blood, suppressing the urge to turn and leave, and putting on a heroic facade of "unwavering loyalty to the country." As for the "hired" Professionals... apart from a small number of chuunibyo youths infatuated with the Princess, most others, including Punk and Kane, who had already exchanged for a set of Journeyman Level knowledge, had long since left the city walls! Those who were slightly more clear-headed realized that this city would not last until they could kill fifty Professionals to exchange for knowledge. Without reward and with risk involved, Professionals who prioritized profit would not do such foolish things. Therefore, they were now hiding in a corner of the city near the gate, disguised as destitute refugees, ready to escape Konola City, this ship destined to sink.

Punk had already cast a spell to conceal the magical aura on his mage robe. Now he was hiding among a group of refugees. The clothes disguised by magic made him look no different from those ragged refugees, at least enough to fool some hurried, clueless soldiers.

Punk kept his head bowed, looking at the ground. His entire face was almost completely hidden by the shadow of his hood. He was controlling a higher-level "Arcane Eye" to observe Mainesi, who stood with his hands behind his back on the city wall. He still felt some doubt, because it was too out of character for this Formal Mage, who by all appearances was not a pushover, to resolutely wade into this obviously murky water.

However...

"It doesn't matter anymore."

Punk muttered to himself. Although he hadn't gained as much knowledge as he had hoped, it wasn't a complete loss. At least...

Punk closed his eyes, feeling the more abundant and solidified azure magic in his Soul...

"I leveled up again!"

Trying to leave isn't that smooth, you know. Where are the votes? Where are the collections? I didn't get a single collection yesterday, I'm really heartbroken. Friends, please give me some collections for support!