Chapter 263 – Breath

The frenzied Holy Warrior was swiftly dealt with. His devout faith and violent belief couldn’t withstand Punk’s Kinetic Burst. Now, the warrior who had moments earlier shone like a miniature sun was reduced to a pile of minced flesh mixed with metal fragments, some of whose blood had splattered onto the faces of his two stunned companions.

Watching Punk’s shadow-obscured face remain as placid as still water, his expression as indifferent as if he’d merely swatted a mosquito, the greedy mage Mig mechanically wiped the sticky fluid from his face. Seeing the crimson stain covering his hand, his trembling grew increasingly violent until finally, Mig broke down completely.

“No! Spare me! I don’t want to die!”

His face deathly pale, he let out a shriek shriller than any woman’s before turning to stumble desperately into the jungle. The female Stalker beside him reacted identically.

Rationally, both adventurers knew Punk wouldn’t spare them, and escape from a Master-Level Caster was impossible. Their frantic flight and panic were merely manifestations of complete mental collapse.

Watching the terrified adventurers flee haphazardly into the jungle, Punk shook his head in silent amusement:

“What a pity. I’m afraid you’ll remain forever in this beautiful jungle.”

The pair had guessed correctly. The moment that Holy Warrior charged forward, Punk had already marked all three adventurers for death. With the mad Holy Warrior now reduced to minced meat, and Punk intending to lay low without provoking the Church of Dawn, eliminating witnesses became necessary.

Dealing with two individuals who hadn’t even reached Formal-Level required no particular effort. Punk casually launched a Kinetic Burst between the fleeing adventurers.

The spell’s terrifying pale violet shockwave instantly crushed both the mage and the female Stalker—who had tried to stop and beg for mercy—into pulp.

Surveying the blood-soaked scene, Punk nodded in satisfaction. Not even a peak Master-Level Limited Wish could revive these three fools now.

“Such troublesome matters… Though I wonder, does this count as rescuing a damsel in distress?”

Punk casually incinerated the bloody remains before tossing the one-winged Harpy onto the scorched ground.

Crouching down to examine the Harpy pretending to be pitiful while curled in her remaining wing, he mused aloud with amusement.

This Harpy conformed reasonably well to human aesthetics. Beyond the wings on her back, only her legs were feathered talons—the rest of her body appeared as an ordinary human female’s, minimally covered by animal hides. Her curvaceous figure and rather attractive face indeed qualified her as a beauty.

However… her mind was anything but beautiful.

Punk discreetly cast a Master-Level Mind Spell—Mind Listening, clearly hearing the Harpy’s inner thoughts.

The Harpy he’d indirectly saved harbored not an ounce of gratitude. In fact, her mind was filled entirely with schemes of repaying kindness with betrayal.The Harpy, prostrate on the ground and emitting faint, mournful cries, appeared utterly pitiful. Yet her inner thoughts were filled with fanaticism and obsession:

“Oh, heavens! What exquisite features! What delicate, smooth skin! This is undoubtedly the most beautiful youth in the world. Such beauty belongs only to the supreme High Priestess! I must bring him back, I absolutely must bring him back! I must offer him to the exalted High Priestess! I will be rewarded—supremely rewarded! I won’t allow anyone to stand in my way! I won’t permit it!”

As her emotions intensified, the Harpy’s expression gradually twisted into something more sinister. Moreover, Punk keenly noticed that the “eerie aura” swirling around her grew increasingly active. This previously somewhat stagnant energy seemed to be slowly awakening, merging continuously with the Harpy until they became inseparably intertwined.

“How fascinating! Could this aura be affecting her sanity, making this Harpy obsessive? Or is it amplifying her wicked desires?”

Punk paid no mind to the monster’s fanatical delusions. Right now, he was far more interested in the strange aura surrounding the Harpy.

He decided to probe further, wanting to gauge the strength of this so-called “High Priestess” behind her. If nothing unexpected occurred… Punk planned to pay a visit to this Harpy’s community.

“Greetings, fair lady. You appear gravely injured. Might I escort you back to your community?”

Punk did his best to adopt a gentle, sunny demeanor as he addressed the Harpy.

Hearing Punk’s offer to escort her back to her community—exactly what she had been scheming to achieve—the Harpy couldn’t conceal a flash of wild joy in her eyes:

“Marvelous, mighty warrior! I’ve lost my wings. Without aid, I’d surely be torn apart by savage beasts when night falls. I truly don’t know how to thank you!”

“Haha… No need for thanks, no need. But your injuries seem quite severe. Are there healers in your tribe? If not, perhaps we should seek treatment in a town. I imagine we could find a cleric or two there.”

After an awkward chuckle, Punk began testing the waters regarding the Harpy community’s capabilities. He hadn’t intended to get straight to the point so soon, but pretending to be an enthusiastic youth wasn’t his strong suit. Better to extract information quickly.

“If she won’t talk, I’ll have to resort to torture!”

Punk thought grimly to himself.

He avoided using Memory Reading—the most convenient spell—because the aura clinging to the Harpy was too peculiar. His intuition warned him to avoid any soul, mental, or thought-based contact with this energy at all costs.

His instincts had always proven reliable, so Punk decisively ruled out directly probing the Harpy’s memories with magic. Though the aura seemed weak and faint, he never underestimated anything his powers couldn’t fully decipher.

Fortunately, the Harpy seemed desperate to ensure Punk would visit her tribe. Hearing his suggestion to take her to a human town for treatment, she immediately shook her head in refusal:”Don’t worry, our tribe’s High Priestess is omnipotent. No matter what kind of injury or illness, she can cure it all.”

The Harpy proudly boasted about how great and all-powerful her Boss was. Those who knew would understand she was talking about a harpy priestess, while those who didn’t might think she was praising a deity of immense divine power.

Not stopping there, as if afraid Punk wouldn’t believe her, the Harpy even took out a feather to show off:

“Look, this is the High Priestess’ Feather left to me. Even with just this single feather, those magical beasts would tremble in fear!”

The feather she produced was wreathed in energy carrying a faint pressure, with pale golden inscriptions shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight. And the level of energy fluctuation it emitted was actually… merely Formal-Level!

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(End of Chapter)