Chapter 264: Pit Boss
“…A Formal-Level aura…and fucking omnipotent? She really dares to boast! Sure enough, just another charlatan maintaining rule through brainwashing!”
After carefully sensing the feather Harpy had produced, Punk immediately understood that this so-called “omnipotent High Priestess” she kept glorifying was merely a Formal-Level creature. Even if the imposing aura solidified on this feather could be faked, the soul imprint engraved at its base couldn’t be falsified.
Out of caution, Punk probed Harpy’s thought fluctuations once more before finally confirming this not-too-bright harpy wasn’t lying.
“Tch, brainwashing might consolidate power in the short term, but long-term it’s nothing but sheer suicide. When will these magical creatures learn this lesson, and how many more disasters must they endure?”
Punk shook his head expressionlessly.
From Harpy’s description, Punk knew he’d encountered a magical creature community that reinforced its rule through brainwashing. In truth, such communities existed throughout the Multiverse, with even some human rulers in remote planes often deifying themselves.
These ignorant rulers—whether out of folly or selfishness—would brainwash their tribesmen from childhood, eliminating the intelligent and truly useful sages while making their ignorant clansmen firmly believe their ruler was an omnipotent true god.
Relying on long lifespans and formidable power, these rulers could indeed dominate their tribes through their crafted “supremacy” temporarily. But viewed long-term, such behavior only brewed catastrophe and tragedy.
The reason was simple: even if the ruler knew their limits, their brainwashed followers would grow fanatical and arrogant. Soon these arrogant tribesmen would conceive countless suicidal notions, such as:
“Encounter a Legendary Expert.”..rob the bastard, why fear? Our Boss is omnipotent.”
“Find a God Realm…burn it down, our Boss is invincible, all Legends and deities are trash.”
Trust me, these magical creatures—never particularly bright to begin with—would inevitably run amok causing trouble once emboldened by an “omnipotent” boss.
Yet how countless were the dangers in this world? Even deities of Greater Godhood and immensely powerful Radiant Sun Archmages had to tread carefully as if on thin ice. For a bunch of reckless magical creatures to dare court death everywhere—tell me, how far could such a tribe be from destruction?
No other examples were needed—one lay right before them.
When extreme trust escalates to the level of faith, rationality ceases to exist. The harpy still putting on a pitiful act before Punk remained unaware she’d already earned the epic title “Boss-Sabotaging Expert” in his mind…This walking disaster actually intended to bring a scheming Master-Level Caster home without hesitation. Had that “High Priestess” known, she’d likely cough up two liters of blood in fury.Punk thought mockingly, then quietly cast an Apprentice-Level Bloodstopping Spell on the Harpy’s severed wing. This was a “loyal” “tour guide” after all—he didn’t want his guide bleeding out halfway through their journey.
“Well then, without further delay, Miss Harpy, let’s hurry along. I’m quite eager to visit your home—yes, terribly eager, practically bursting with anticipation!”
Punk offered a somewhat strained smile to the visibly delighted Harpy.
“Of course! Don’t worry, we’ll arrive before nightfall. You can try our homemade fruit wine then!”
The Harpy failed to notice the eerie expression hidden beneath Punk’s hood. She rose cheerfully, ignoring the pain from her wound, and headed into the dense forest.
“Hurry, hurry! We can still make it in time for dinner!”
“As you wish, ‘kind’ miss.”
——————————————————
The Harpy’s colony wasn’t particularly far. After an afternoon of trekking through twisting forest paths behind the injured Harpy, Punk reached the tribe’s outskirts.
The sky had just begun to darken at dusk, with crimson clouds casting a bloody glow on a half-buried skeleton beside a wooden stake marking the camp’s boundary.
Along the way, Punk had skillfully probed for information through casual conversation. Had he been more socially adept, he believed any thief with basic charm could have extracted far more—this Harpy possessed virtually no sense of caution.
Through the Harpy’s boastful accounts, Punk learned their tribe was called “Black Claw,” a small community established less than two centuries ago. They’d been driven here by “reckless, vulgar, filthy, dim-witted (all the Harpy’s descriptors)” orcs during an eastern campaign, suffering devastating losses that nearly pushed the tribe to extinction.
Fortunately, their “magnificent, omnipotent, sacred, supreme (the only phrases she pronounced clearly) priestess” had received ancestral approval in a “chosen cave,” granting her “almighty” power.
Through this “omnipotent” force, the Harpy priestess gained blessing abilities. Tribe members receiving her blessings could unleash terrifying potential, while blessed weapons could drive wounded beasts into madness.
When Punk asked to examine such “blessed” weapons, the Harpy lamented that she hadn’t qualified for blessings.
Processing this intelligence, Punk deduced something intriguing:
“These so-called ‘blessings’ are likely this permeating sinister aura. If this malevolent energy invades a beast’s soul, it could indeed drive already-ferocious creatures mad. Which means… the key lies with that priestess. Probably she obtained something in that cave causing this bizarre phenomenon.”
Trailing behind the Harpy, Punk remained alert to their surroundings while formulating his next moves.”The Harpy colony isn’t too far from the city. Although these low-level harpies aren’t very bright, that priestess probably isn’t some fool who doesn’t value her life. I’d better conceal my aura – it would be troublesome if I scared that one away.”
While thinking this, Punk quietly cast a spell.
“Master-Level Conjuration Spell – Wyne’s Aura Concealment!” It conceals the soul aura of any creature below Legendary rank, disguising it as an Apprentice-Level soul tier. Duration: twenty-four hours!
“That should do it. I wonder if that priestess would cry from fright seeing a Master-Level Mage suddenly appear before her.”
Punk stared at the tattered flag in the distance, entertaining this mischievous thought.
(End of Chapter)