Chapter 43 – The City is About to Fall

Chapter Forty-Three: The City on the Brink of Collapse

The fate of Konola City now rested entirely on Mainaixi’s battle, as its conventional forces… were already certain to lose. The outcome of the high-level combat was the only remaining hope. If Mainaixi emerged victorious in his “duel” against Lunka, Konola City would remain safe—at least able to linger on a while longer—until Prince William dispatched the next Formal-Level powerhouse.

If the two Formal-Level experts remained deadlocked as they had been the previous day, the enemy’s “conventional troops” would breach the crumbling walls, burn Konola City to the ground, and uncover the hidden Her Highness the Princess. By then, with the enemy having achieved their objectives, Mainaixi’s victory or defeat would become meaningless.

Of course, the worst outcome would be Mainaixi’s defeat while Lunka remained relatively unscathed. In that case… it would be uncertain whether even a handful of professionals could escape the vast Konola City!

As the first rays of dawn touched the city walls, the enemy’s assault horns blared with fierce urgency. With their bait granaries largely destroyed (a group of Apprentice-Level professionals could indeed take half a granary with them in a mutual demise), the enemy found themselves in dire straits. They desperately needed to capture Konola City to plunder wealth and food supplies, lest they face starvation on their return journey.

This time, far fewer professionals remained to snipe at the enemy’s “ladder teams” from the walls. Soon, ladders inscribed with pale red runes were hoisted against Konola’s battlements. Amid the roaring charge of the enemy, mutilated corpses—disfigured by blades or magic—began raining down from the walls one after another. Lunka and Mainaixi once again clashed in mid-air, their confrontation generating even greater tumult than before. Visible shockwaves rippled across the sky, and the ground trembled violently under the strain, perceptible even several streets away.

In a dim street corner, huddling refugees clutching bundles of belongings trembled in collective terror. On the Faerûn Plane, Nobles from defeated cities could ransom themselves with substantial amounts of Gold Coins, but commoners… would all be enslaved. Most could not accept such a fate, so even knowing their chances of escaping the slave-hunting occupation forces were slim, they still risked death to flee.

Punk stood quietly in a nearby alley, his deliberately tattered disguise failing to mask his fundamentally different demeanor from the cowering refugees. Having never learned any concealment techniques, he didn’t expect his crude acting to fool astute professionals. He merely needed to escape amid the chaos. After breaching the city, enemy professionals might focus on looting wealth or knowledge, but they’d unlikely engage in pointless life-or-death combat with another evidently capable professional. Thus, Punk remained highly confident about making a clean getaway.Punk frowned as he observed Mainaixi’s battle in the distance. It was clear that both Lunka and Mainaixi had exhausted their trump cards and were now fighting for their lives. However, judging by the current situation… Mainaixi’s condition was deteriorating rapidly. Lunka, now as frenzied as if injected with adrenaline, swung his warhammer into a crimson blur, forcing Mainaixi to dodge frantically to avoid the onslaught.

Witnessing this scene, Punk grew anxious. If Lunka managed to eliminate Mainaixi so effortlessly… the consequences would be dire!

“Hurry up! Hand over your valuables now!” A brutish voice interrupted Punk’s thoughts. Two burly men in City Guard uniforms blocked both ends of the street, spewing saliva as they loudly demanded refugees surrender their possessions—or face “mass slaughter”!

Though this robbery trope was cliché, their threat of “mass slaughter” was far from empty rhetoric. The two female corpses lying on the ground served as grim proof.

The two deserters, seizing this chance to loot, kicked the already stiffening bodies with dull thuds while brandishing blood-stained sabers to menace the refugees huddled trembling in a corner.

Puckering his lips in disdain, Punk reflected that beyond the City Guards’ despicable behavior, the refugees’ cowardice was equally frustrating. Thirty to forty people were cowed by two ordinary deserters armed only with crude sabers. Had they swarmed the duo, even AK-47s would have been easily neutralized. Yet these refugees did nothing but pray to idle, pitiful deities and offer useless pleas.

Shaking his head, Punk strode lightly toward the arrogant deserters. Misunderstand him not—Punk wasn’t acting out of charity for these “worthless” refugees. He simply devised a way to end this futile “waiting” predicament.

“You there… kneel down! Seeking death?!” A soldier with bloodshot eyes snarled maniacally at Punk.

“Pitiful fools. Has mere greed stripped you of basic judgment?” Punk murmured calmly, his hooded pupils beginning to gleam with traces of azure magical light.

“Motherf—”

The deserter’s curse died in his throat. With a single Mage Hand, Punk lifted both deserters by their necks into the air. The faint blue giant hand crunched their spines audibly. Suspended mid-air, their faces turned cyanotic as they struggled desperately, but their efforts were as feeble and laughable as chicks against a Mage Hand that could effortlessly hoist cars.

“Entrails Divination… paired with my Apprentice-Level soul tier, enhanced by…” Punk jostled the two deserters—now foaming at the mouth—like helpless rabbits. “…far superior spellcasting materials… are sure to yield some ‘surprises’.”Ignoring the wide-eyed, adoring refugees completely, Punk dragged the two deserters who were still kicking their legs towards a secluded yet relatively open alley. Under the terrified gazes of the refugees, he summoned a gleaming silver knife using a life spell and sliced open one deserter’s belly as if cutting through tofu. With Mage Hand, he arranged the still-writhing internal organs into a blood-red, terrifying, and eerily mysterious magical array. Then, he lifted the remaining deserter and placed him directly above the array, treating him just like the rabbit in the jungle.

Paying no mind to the man’s fear-distorted face and tear-streaked cheeks, Punk calmly and indifferently raised the knife!

“Such a brilliant idea—why did it take me so long to think of it?”…………

In the distance, sporadic flames began to ignite in Konola City. As part of the enemy forces entered the city, screams and splatters of blood were everywhere. Even the clouds in the sky, stained by the two suns, took on a blood-red, ink-splattered hue!

(End of Chapter)