Chapter 51 – The Roar of Mainaixi

Several days had passed since they embarked on this escape route, during which they had experienced dozens of battles, both major and minor! Even Punk felt physically and mentally exhausted from such high-intensity combat, let alone those warriors with lower professional levels, and our delicate Princess Nasia. The beautiful princess who used to frequently encourage her soldiers no longer had the heart to speak.

The fervor once deeply buried in the warriors’ hearts gradually faded, replaced by confusion, numbness, anxiety, and a series of other heavy negative emotions that permeated this small team due to prolonged exposure to the shadow of death.

Moreover, as the number of battles increased, the once moderately sized Princess Guard began to suffer continuous casualties. These losses further weakened the team’s strength, making it increasingly difficult to face subsequent battles without any reinforcements. Thus, a vicious cycle gradually formed, devouring all hope of this team. More terrifyingly, no one in their current situation could break this frustrating and helpless cycle.

As they drew closer to the border of Dillon Kingdom, the enemy’s pursuit became more frenzied and intense. The severely weakened reconnaissance team could no longer confront the pursuing forces head-on as they did initially. It seemed the possibility of successfully escaping Prince William’s clutches was diminishing step by step. The only remaining hope driving this team forward now rested with Lord Mainaixi, who held an “invincible” status in the warriors’ hearts.

Indeed, Mainaixi occasionally put on a caring demeanor to comfort young wounded soldiers whose injuries wouldn’t heal due to the excessively damp environment, or promptly expressed grief for fallen warriors after battles, and took advantage of rest periods to encourage everyone to press onward.

But he was, after all, a mage, not a presidential candidate skilled in incitement and speechmaking. His hollow words of encouragement quickly lost most of their motivating effect. Aside from the little princess who still believed in Mainaixi, most soldiers showed no visible reaction.

After closely observing Mainaixi’s hurried “performances” on several occasions, Punk keenly noticed that the green leaves on Mainaixi’s fractured wound were no longer growing in a twisted manner. The life force that once continuously flowed into Mainaixi’s body had recently become increasingly faint and scarce.

Furthermore, during several critical battles, even when their side suffered significant casualties, Mainaixi chose not to eliminate those apprentice-level professionals who would be utterly fragile against a full-fledged mage.

Holding back once or twice could be attributed to concealing one’s strength, but choosing to “conserve power” in the face of major losses wasn’t wisdom but outright foolishness.

Without a doubt, Mainaixi was no fool. Therefore, the reason for his inaction could only be that he had truly lost the capacity to “act.”Facing such a perilous situation that could be described as a life-or-death crisis, Punk felt no fear or anxiety. Worrying would only lead to self-sabotage, and fear was nothing but a pointless drain on energy—two useless emotions he had long discarded during his time in the void.

Moreover, Punk had a faint premonition that Mainaixi must still be holding onto some formidable trump card, or perhaps… a final mutually destructive move.

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“Flame clouds—I never thought I’d see them in this world too.”

Punk gazed at the flame clouds on the horizon, their fiery swirls rolling and stretching under the glow of “Mila,” dyeing the entire sky a vivid crimson!

The current “Princess Guard” resembled a down-and-out adventurer party more than a retreating army. Aside from the princess and Mainaixi, the only survivors were Punk and two warriors. As for low-combat-capability types like the Old Mage, they hadn’t even left intact corpses behind, seemingly wiped out as early as the fifth or sixth battle.

But enemies never sympathize with a warrior’s weakness—they only pounce eagerly to deliver the final blow to an exhausted group.

As Mila’s radiance slowly sank below the horizon, another squad of searchers emerged in the hazy twilight.

In truth, after over a week of intense consecutive battles, Punk’s level had risen by two full tiers. He was now a level-nine apprentice mage. Before reaching formal ranks, combat still offered substantial tempering of the soul, especially for a half-Ancient Elf like Punk, who had a natural affinity for energy.

Yet even as a leveled-up mage, Punk was utterly drained, both physically and mentally, by such high-intensity fighting. The recent battles had felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff, with one crisis nearly allowing the enemy’s main force to catch up.

Now, the two remaining warriors were battered and bruised. It could be said that aside from Her Highness the Princess, who had been kept perfectly safe, almost everyone had reached their limit. On the surface, this “encounter” seemed to offer little chance of survival.

“Damn it! Damn it! We were so close, so close to reaching the ‘Lush Forest’ of the Dillon Kingdom!” One warrior, leaning on a half-broken, notched sword, struggled to his feet despite his bleeding wounds. He screamed hoarsely toward where Mila had set, his blood-caked hair fluttering under the swirl of his Battle Aura. Bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, his armor made him look like a cornered lion—ferocious, but only fighting a hopeless battle.

Even Princess Nasia, who had always maintained optimism, couldn’t help but reveal a look of despair. “Everyone… are we truly going to fail? Did those soldiers sacrifice themselves for nothing?”

Tears blurred Nasya’s vision. In this moment, she wasn’t the “Her Highness the Princess” bearing everyone’s hopes—she was just a helpless little girl named Nasya.In such a desperate situation, Punk felt no worry instead. With the border so close, even if Mainaixi had no hidden cards left, one would surely be forced out. Punk never dared to underestimate the methods and potential of a veteran formal mage.

Sure enough, watching enemies surround the “cornered” small team from all directions, seeing fireballs already hurling toward his most treasured little princess—whom he could never cherish enough—Mainaixi propped up his broken, ashen half-body and let out a bloodcurdling roar so ferocious it made even Punk’s hair stand on end.

Mage Mainaixi, who had remained courteous and soft-spoken despite severe injuries, now glared with crimson eyes, veins bulging like blue cords on his hands. The man who could barely move moments earlier suddenly erupted with dazzling emerald radiance. Thick, intertwined emerald vines as sturdy as arms were instantly summoned across the Woodland spanning five football fields. All vines converged toward Mainaixi mid-air, clustering around the mage—now resembling a green orb—to form a twenty-meter-tall vine giant. Magnificent verdant light shot forth like pillars piercing the earth, bursting outward from the giant’s form.

Substantial green energy flames blazed fiercely in the giant’s eyes, while surging power solidified within every crevice of the vine behemoth!

Finally, the vine giant bearing Mainaixi’s likeness opened its maw toward the enemies, its terrifying roar scattering the fiery clouds at the horizon!

“You! Will! All! Die————!”

(End of Chapter)