Chapter 228 – Sense of Incongruity

Just as Bloodclaw charged recklessly toward Punk, three summoned shadow wolves loyally obeyed Punk’s command and pounced on Bloodclaw.

“Damned beasts, get away!”

As expected, facing the coordinated pounce of three shadow wolves, Bloodclaw could only change direction to evade two of the giant wolves. Even so, one shadow wolf managed to charge close enough to successfully sink its teeth into Bloodclaw’s right arm.

The biting force of a shadow wolf could tear through metal and shatter stone without exaggeration. Even though Bloodclaw had coated his arm with a layer of writhing blood plasma for defense, a distinct cracking sound echoed from his arm when the shadow wolf’s jaws clamped shut.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it! Get away! Get away from me!”

The massive shadow wolf possessed weight matching its size. Bloodclaw couldn’t possibly maintain his Charge while dragging a creature twice his weight. To make matters worse, the shadow wolf under Punk’s command was utterly fearless—even when Bloodclaw tore off one of its legs with his left hand, the wolf stubbornly refused to release its grip on his arm.

Watching the other two shadow wolves turn to charge at him, Bloodclaw felt the life energy within his body burning away like oil tossed into a brazier. A faint despair toward “mutual destruction” finally rose within him.

“Indeed… I was never cut out for combat.”

At this thought, a bitter smile involuntarily twisted across Bloodclaw’s savage, torn face.

Simultaneously, the other two shadow wolves viciously bit into Bloodclaw’s body. The combined weight of three giant wolves completely halted his struggling charge, with the second wolf severing his remaining left arm.

At this point, all of Bloodclaw’s schemes had utterly failed. He never managed to get close to Punk from beginning to end, rendering his long-prepared self-destruction completely meaningless.

Night had fallen over the Western Wilderness. The light of Mila and Chikasa had once again departed from the Faerûn Plane, leaving three differently colored moons visible in the sky. But the swiftly approaching storm clouds seemed to narrate the arrival of the finale.

“It seems time to end this farce!”

Punk kept his distance from Bloodclaw, his spell already prepared. At such range, even if Bloodclaw’s self-destruction matched Tisha Xia’er’s in power, Punk wouldn’t fear it. And with three shadow wolves restraining him, Bloodclaw couldn’t break free in time.

“Bloodclaw, no matter how you struggle, you’re merely like that great fireball that streaked across the sky—fleeting and transient. Now it’s time to…”

“…”

“…Something feels wrong?”

Just as Punk prepared to declare the end of Bloodclaw’s life, an intense “sense of incongruity” made him pause his spellcasting momentarily. In that instant, he felt as if his mind had suddenly grown faintly dizzy, but the sensation was so subtle he couldn’t be certain it was real.

“What just happened? Did Bloodclaw activate some hidden card?”Punk held the pre-prepared Mana Compression version of “Kinetic Cone” in his hand, keeping it concealed. His expression grew increasingly grim—his intuition told him something had definitely happened moments ago. As a Formal-Level spellcaster, his thoughts couldn’t possibly produce “illusions” without cause, not even as a side effect of the Activation Potion.

“Something must have occurred. It can’t just be a mere illusion!”

“Regardless, I’ll deal with the enemy before me first.”

Punk shook his head lightly, suppressing the intuitive feeling in his heart. Without another word, he expressionlessly unleashed the long-prepared “Kinetic Cone” at Bloodclaw.

Under Bloodclaw’s despairing gaze, the Kinetic Cone effortlessly pierced through his skull. Even at this moment, his self-destruction failed to activate in time.

Bloodclaw’s headless corpse collapsed to the ground like a tattered ragdoll, and uncontrolled blood quickly spread into an ordinary pool of crimson.

With Bloodclaw’s death, the life energy within him that didn’t belong to him rapidly dissipated. In the end, the overflowing life energy even caused the grass and flowers around Bloodclaw to grow half a measure taller.

Punk watched from a distance as Bloodclaw’s corpse twitched intermittently before finally falling completely still. Only after repeatedly using Divination Spells to confirm that the boastful Bloodclaw, who had arrogantly claimed “No one can catch me,” was truly dead did he let out a sigh of relief.

At that moment, the effects of the Activation Potion completely faded. Punk felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion wash over him. Every muscle in his body ached intensely, and his mind buzzed with chaotic noises, as if a concert had erupted inside his head.

Punk was certain this was the first time he had felt so utterly exhausted since his transmigration—so tired that he eagerly longed to find a place to meditate and rest for a few hours.

But Punk had no time to rest now. Not only could he not rest, but he also had to remain vigilant, ready to face danger at any moment. Because… he was now one hundred percent certain—just moments ago, someone had tampered with his thoughts. As the battle ended and time passed, that heavy sense of dissonance hadn’t diminished but had instead intensified.

“What exactly happened? What occurred just now?”

Punk ordered the three-headed demon wolves to form a protective circle around him and sank into deep contemplation—or rather, began meticulously reviewing his memories.

This mental dissonance demanded Punk’s attention. After all, he was not only a spellcaster with immensely powerful psychic strength but also constantly maintained a Formal-Level spell enhanced by Mana Compression—”Mind Barrier”—around the outer layer of his soul. Influencing Punk’s thoughts without a trace was, in a way, more challenging than killing him outright.

“Memory, memory… Something must have happened twenty-five seconds ago.”

Punk closed his eyes, immersing himself in his memories. He began replaying the events of at least twenty-five seconds ago in his mind, over and over.

“Bloodclaw launched an assault, I commanded the demon wolves to intercept, a massive fireball streaked across the sky at extreme speed, I prepared my spell, the spell was ready, I killed Bloodclaw… Bloodclaw launched an assault, I commanded the demon wolves to intercept…”The more Punk pondered, the tighter his brow furrowed, for in his mind, this particular memory seemed utterly ordinary—devoid of “any” peculiarities or “anything” noteworthy.

“Truly troublesome. It appears this influence doesn’t originate from the memory itself.”

Punk’s expression darkened as he opened his eyes. He had confirmed that his memories hadn’t been tampered with by anyone. After reviewing this memory dozens of times within seconds, Punk found no anomalies, yet that profound sense of “incongruity” had become palpable even without relying on “intuition.”

“This is extremely problematic. If this ‘thing’ proves useless again, I’ll have to consider using ‘Foul Divination’.”

At this thought, the magical vortex in Punk’s pupils spun rapidly. He retrieved an Alchemical Potion from his Storage Ring—a Focus Potion contained in a test tube.

Though Punk currently found himself in a desolate Wilderness without a single shelter, with his guardian Golem Two absent from his side, the embedded spells in his magical items still in “cooldown,” and most alarmingly, while suffering from the debilitating side effects of a recently expired activation potion—he still resolved to drink this “Focus Potion.”

There was no alternative. The sudden “sense of discord” constantly reminded Punk that the “unknown” had arrived and was undeniably present.

(End of Chapter)