Woodland Battlefield

Under Punk's control, a high-pressure spell orb filled with blue-white energy flew straight toward the center of the battlefield. In midair, the crystalline energy sphere that had originally been gathered into one mass suddenly split into several pale-blue ribbon-like strands. The long bands, wreathed in specks of energy, sank into the aged rotten mud of the woodland in an instant. Nearly all the enemy professionals on the battlefield sensed the surging power brewing beneath their feet, but exhausted from dealing with the warriors' attacks, even though they realized that violent energy was about to burst from the ground, all they could do was hurriedly reinforce their defenses one last time.

Caught off guard, neither the enemy warriors nor the enemy mages could make any effective response. In the end, they had underestimated what they saw as a "mere Apprentice Level spell."

Experience taught that the price of underestimating an enemy was always devastating.

Less than a second after the dazzling energy ribbons sank into the mud, the entire marsh rose in wave after wave like an ocean in a storm. Enormous surges of sludge rolled toward the enemy formations with perfect timing. Fermented by decaying vegetation, the mud possessed unimaginably powerful adhesive properties. Driven by such immense force, it did not scatter into countless droplets. Instead, as wave after wave churned beneath the ground, the entire expanse of rotten mud heaved intact. The enemy could no longer keep their footing amid such violent undulations. Several weaker Apprentice Level professionals were even flung high into the air. For a time, nearly all of the enemy mages' casting was interrupted. This was undoubtedly the perfect opportunity for their own warriors to charge in and kill.

"Tidal Surge" was ultimately a Journeyman Level spell. Though it possessed considerable advantages in both range and power—more than enough to envelop the enemy's scattered pursuit squad within its effects—its duration... was truly less than ideal.

After churning violently beneath the muddy ground for two rounds, the powerful sludge waves subsided. Yet in this kind of guerrilla battle, the spell's brief upheaval was not a disadvantage at all. On the contrary, it was an excellent means of coordinating combat.

Just as the enemy sprawled across the ground in a tangled mess, "Tidal Surge" gradually came to a halt. The Princess Guard, whose boiling blood had long been begging for release, saw such a bargain and charged in like gorillas in heat, howling wildly. Aside from a few quick-witted warriors who reacted in time, most of the enemy combat professionals were still standing there in stunned confusion when the muscle-bound men, pumped up as if on stimulants, beheaded and disemboweled them with a single swing. Many mages did not even have time to activate their assorted trump cards before great blades came crashing down on their foreheads!

Seeing that the situation had gradually stabilized, Punk finally let out a quiet breath of relief. Although he had maintained an unruffled appearance all along, he had secretly worried that reinforcements might arrive. After all, the enemy pursuers were all professionals, and neither their speed nor endurance could be underestimated. Fortunately, he knew a trick or two of "perfectly timed" spells. In this battle, he had almost perfectly fulfilled every role of a battlefield-control mage, unlike that old mage beside him, whose performance had been downright embarrassing—he only knew a few little fireballs, and had not hit a single person with them!

On the other hand, his companions had truly been fearless. Every one of them had practically fought to serve as the dangerous front-line shield and draw enemy attacks. Only through the combination of all these factors had they won such a complete victory, leaving the enemy with barely any survivors who could flee.

At the same time, Punk seriously reviewed the lessons of this battle. He had to admit that having a melee professional up front to withstand damage was indeed highly beneficial for unleashing a mage's powerful battlefield-control abilities. Furthermore, having a nimble shield to tie down multiple enemies made it easier to employ tactics that picked them off one by one.

With that thought in mind, Punk decided that he would have to devote more effort to Alchemy Golems and summoned creatures in the future. At the very least, he needed to pay more attention to knowledge and magical items related to them. However, such a shield absolutely could not contain any hidden unstable factors. He would rather choose a clumsy Alchemy Golem than those cunning, treacherous contracted servants.

Now that the battle had come to an end, Punk had become a Brave Warrior who had earned considerable merit. The warriors in the party all showed the proper respect to this previously unknown mage. As for their little princess Nasya, her cheeks now flushed red whenever she merely saw Punk. Any experienced womanizer could have seen that the little princess was already showing signs of unrequited love. Unfortunately, her first love was destined to end in vain, because Punk had absolutely no interest in dealing with the troublesome princess. In his eyes, superfluous emotions such as love did nothing to help one become stronger or gain knowledge, so he had no interest whatsoever in behavior "based on reproductive instinct." Even the soldiers' respectful attitudes were nothing more than boring, irritating harassment to Punk!

Although the Princess Guard could be considered to have won a great victory on the surface, a small number of casualties had still been unavoidable. This once again dealt a real blow to the already small party's strength. More importantly, such dangerous "encounters" would happen many more times along the road ahead. And if they failed even once to end a battle this quickly, the consequences... would be unimaginable!

This uneasy atmosphere could not be eased by hollow words. With time so pressing, the warriors did not even have the leisure to dig simple graves for their fallen companions. Pursued by powerful enemies, they had no choice but to set out once again without pause on their journey through mud-covered ground!

Punk, however, felt no pointless sorrow for the dead soldiers. A saying from Earth still made perfect sense: "Once you choose to become a fighter, it means you are prepared to kill and be killed." Still, he was somewhat glad that he had not chosen to travel alone. Otherwise, he would truly have been trapped in a hopeless predicament with no way to heaven or earth. As for whether this party could cross the sizable woodland of Old Muddy Woods... Punk slowly turned his gaze and looked toward where Mainesi stood with deep, shadowed eyes.

"Then tell me—how much longer can you hold on, after nearly giving everything for that ridiculous princess?"

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