Chapter 21 – The Secret of the Forest

A swirling, blazing crimson flame shot forth from the ruby at the tip of the staff. In an instant, every blade of grass touched by the fire along its path turned to ashes, every stone became red-hot and cracked. The nearly 7,000-degree inferno instantly carbonized several nearby small trees. The extreme heat made Punk feel unbearably scorched even through the energy-based “Minor Mage Armor.”

The flying flames reached the cluster of skeletons in less than a second. The erupting blaze engulfed all the undead, swirling like a storm as it raged across the ground. The intense illumination lit up the entire Undead Forest. Every creature in the woods, including distant skeleton soldiers, stared dumbfounded at the swirling flames. They trembled, they were terrified—this was the primal fear all living beings felt when facing absolute destruction!

The rampaging inferno burned fiercely for dozens of seconds before gradually extinguishing. The skeletal undead, vaporized the moment the flames touched them, left no trace of their existence. Their bony frames, their equipment, and even the female priest’s “corpse” lasted less than five seconds in the terrifying storm before evaporating completely. Only the rocks melted by the intense heat remained, transformed into slowly flowing vitreous glass that reflected cold light under the gloomy sky.

“This power… definitely two to three times greater than a rocket launcher,” Punk muttered, breathing in a couple of mouthfuls of scorching hot air with discomfort. Many areas on the ground still glowed crimson like branding irons.

“This is power! Destructive might that represents absolute dominance. This is knowledge! Marvelous knowledge that commands destruction,” Punk whispered to himself, gently stroking the still-warm gemstone staff head while slightly parting his lips.

After wiping the already spotless gem until it became even more immaculate, Punk turned and left the “Glass Wasteland”—now containing nothing but scorching air. It was time to investigate the secrets of this strangely incongruous grove, time to claim his hard-earned spoils.

The closer he got to the forest’s center, the thicker the death energy became. Near the woodland’s heart, mist formed from concentrated necrotic energy appeared. Thick black fog settled so densely it reached up to Punk’s ankles. Even the “Minor Deflection Field” struggled to block all the death energy now.Punk found the Mage Robe skeletons wandering in the grove. Though their bones were mottled and cracked, Punk could still sense residual soul energy on them, proving these two mages had undoubtedly been Apprentice-Level powerhouses in life. But now, they had turned into withered bones wandering here. However—the Mage Robes worn by these former apprentice mages were beyond Punk’s expectations, as they were remarkably intact. Apart from the dim, incomplete inscriptions that had lost their magical potency due to erosion by undead aura, there was almost no other damage. The skeletons of the soldiers at the center were mostly in similar condition, with some appearing to have not even drawn their swords. The undead at the center, whether skeletal remains or equipment, showed little evidence of combat.

Now Punk grew increasingly puzzled. Logically, the closer to the center of an enemy invasion, the fiercer the resistance should have been, with more signs of battle. Yet this army’s situation was the exact opposite: the periphery seemed to have witnessed intense fighting, while the most destructive mages at the center never took action. In the end, both the outer soldiers and inner-circle mages lost their lives. The absence of combat traces despite their unequivocal deaths could only mean one thing—they all perished in an extremely short time, so quickly that they never even had the chance to draw their swords for battle!

Punk crouched down, picked up a small dead branch, and had the System analyze it.

“Analysis result: Undead aura erosion over short duration. Branch’s life energy completely neutralized within six seconds. Branch cells deceased.”

“Just as I thought,” Punk tossed the branch aside, letting it shatter into wood fragments on the ground. “This undead aura doesn’t originate from gradual erosion—it was entirely generated by spellwork.” Straightening up, Punk began to feel apprehensive about this grove’s existence. To cause destruction on such a scale, to kill Apprentice-Level warriors and mages without resistance in mere seconds, to maintain this undead aura’s potency nearly half a month after dispersal—this was undoubtedly the terrifying work of a Formal-Level powerhouse. Moreover, from his inherited memories, Punk knew that a spell with such devastating power and wide-ranging effect would be considered “powerful” even among Formal-Level spells!

Recalling the skeletons of dead soldiers he’d seen at the grove’s periphery, about one-third of them seemed to have faint cloth strips on their shoulders. Due to poor dye adhesion and undead aura erosion, the patterns and colors had become indistinguishable. At the time, Punk had assumed it was some Kamos Kingdom custom, like determined people on Earth tying headbands. Combined with his focus on dealing with enemies and scheming against the female priest, he hadn’t paid attention to these minor details. Now thinking carefully, the most direct purpose of such markers would be distinguishing friend from foe. The Kamos soldiers dying outside by “each other’s” blades simply meant they belonged to two opposing armies. As for why they all wore Kamos Kingdom uniforms—the reason remained utterly unclear!

Now Punk had roughly pieced together what had transpired in this small grove.Two Kamos Kingdom armies encountered each other in this grove. Perhaps one side was a counterfeit army, or perhaps both were genuine forces that had split, or maybe both were impostors who happened to clash here. Most likely, one side was pursuing the other. Regardless, they fought in the grove. When the battle reached its midpoint, a Formal-Level spellcaster suddenly descended and, to achieve some objective, used this large-scale evocation spell to annihilate one or possibly both forces. As for why the most destructive battle mages didn’t intervene—perhaps they were occupied containing enemy mages, or had other reservations, or for whatever reason—by the time the Formal-Level powerhouse descended, they had lost any chance to act.

“What a messy affair, even involving a Formal-Level powerhouse. Why would such a figure descend upon this insignificant little wasteland? And a rare spellcaster at that.”

Whether this was some conspiracy or a tragic tale mattered little to Punk. He’d already decided: upon returning, he’d claim he’d eliminated two undead from a distance, scavenged some equipment, recorded a spatial coordinate, and hurried back. As for other intelligence, he’d plead complete ignorance. Given the Mage Guild’s likely limited interest in this matter, they’d probably just send someone to investigate the coordinates themselves rather than pester a mere Apprentice.

Having settled on his post-mission report, a much-relaxed Punk watched the Mage Robe-clad skeleton still wandering aimlessly, secretly pleased: “Finally time for the beloved loot-opening phase!”

(End of Chapter)