Golem One slowly rose from the massive crater, its right fist shattered down to the bone. The seven eyes embedded in its flesh had been burned away, leaving only black, bloodied sockets.
For a moment, the cave fell into complete silence.
"Whoo!!!"
Boom! Bang! Bang!
Three consecutive explosions erupted across the ground, but Punk, empowered by Advanced Swift Technique, weaved through them like a fish gliding effortlessly through water.
Finally, he came to a halt behind Golem One, his gaze fixed on the high priest standing in the middle of the cave—battered, disheveled, and stripped of his earlier arrogance.
The once mysterious and composed old man was now a mess. His right arm was completely gone, and though his master-level robe remained intact, his body had not fared as well. Blood dripped from countless wounds inflicted by the violent shockwave, and pale shards of bone jutted out from his chest.
Yet, despite his injuries, the crazed madness from before had vanished. The man who stood there now was calm, clear-headed—a far cry from the lunatic he had pretended to be.
At this point, both combatants understood one thing: there was no room for deception anymore. Their opponent was not someone who could be swayed by tricks or theatrics.
"Flesh that resists heat…"
The high priest's gaze flickered toward Golem One, its blackened skin and flesh smoldering from the flames. A sharp glint of realization flashed in his eyes.
"Is it… the flesh of a devil?"
He finally understood how Punk's golem had torn through his fire-element defenses so effortlessly.
But then, after a brief silence, he spoke again—his tone calm, almost persuasive:
"My child, this matter does not concern you. There is no need for you to stand in the way of Goddess Tishachar. Our plans will not affect you."
Punk remained silent, but his wariness deepened.
"Is this bastard trying to escape using 'Any Door'? I just don't know if his injuries are as bad as they seem…"
His expression grew colder. A rational enemy was far more dangerous than a deranged one. He wanted to press the attack immediately while the high priest was still injured, but there was no way to be sure whether this weakness was real or just another trap.
Best to be cautious.
Punk decided to hold his ground. The number of times the high priest could activate his master-tier robe's Any Door ability was unknown. But Punk did know one thing—he still had a bottle of Activation Potion that could rapidly restore his mana. A prolonged battle would only work in his favor.
A heavy sigh escaped the high priest's lips. His massive spider-like lower body trembled as he began gathering energy once more.
"It seems there is nothing more to say," he murmured. "You are truly determined to stand against the Church of Tishachar…"
His tone was laced with something close to regret.
But Punk's response was as cold as ever.
"I came to you on behalf of your granddaughter, Ilinka."
The high priest froze for an instant.
Punk narrowed his eyes, signaling Golem One to remain on high alert. He wasn't expecting this to work, but there was no harm in testing his opponent's mental state.
"She sought you out," he continued, his voice steady. "But I didn't expect you to have fallen this far."
The high priest's expression darkened.
"Ilinka…"
He muttered the name under his breath, as if recalling a distant memory. But the hesitation was fleeting. His eyes quickly regained their firm, unshakable resolve.
"It does not matter why she sought me out. I have already dedicated everything to the great Goddess Tishachar."
His voice was filled with unwavering devotion.
Punk watched him coldly, skeptical of his supposed "faith."
"You're not a priest," he said bluntly. "You have no divine blessings. No god-given power. You are still just a mage. So tell me… this so-called 'goddess' you serve—is she even real?"
For the first time, genuine amusement flickered in the high priest's eyes.
"You don't understand what faith is, do you?"
His voice was calm, almost pitying.
"In your mind, priests only worship gods for power. That's why you can't comprehend true devotion."
His gaze was piercing, unshaken.
"I was never meant to be a mage. I became one by accident in my youth. But when I met the great Goddess Tishachar, I finally understood what I had been searching for all my life."
Punk's expression remained indifferent.
"I don't care what you believe in," he said simply. "I am a mage. And anyone who stands in my way—god or beggar—will be torn apart all the same."
His voice was devoid of emotion, but the killing intent was clear.
"Your so-called faith means nothing to me."
The high priest's eyes burned with fury.
"You dare to defile the name of my goddess?!"
His face twisted in rage, his aura flaring violently. He glared at Punk with pure, unfiltered hatred, as if he were staring at the greatest blasphemer in existence.
"Faith needs no justification! I have the will to defend it, and the power to enforce it!"
He let out a furious roar.
His hands moved in a blur, mana surging wildly as he completed his incantation.
A massive sphere of crystal-clear liquid formed in his palms, countless white motes of light swirling within.
Punk recognized the spell instantly.
Official Summoning Spell—Astral Oil Cluster: Summons a highly concentrated, flammable astral oil.
"The goddess gave me a new purpose!"
The high priest's voice echoed through the cavern.
"It is time to purge her enemies!"
With a flick of his wrist, the massive oil sphere soared into the air and exploded.
A torrential downpour of blazing astral oil rained down, setting the cave ablaze. The walls sizzled and cracked, molten rock dripping from the intense heat.
At the same time, the high priest activated an enchantment from his ring—Fire Resistance Ward.
Now, with his body shielded from the flames, his mana consumption was drastically reduced compared to Punk's.
In an instant, the battlefield had changed.
The war of attrition had flipped in the high priest's favor.
Punk grimaced as his Advanced Mage Armor burned under the searing heat, its energy consumption tripling.
His grip tightened around the small vial in his hand.
Then, without hesitation, he uncorked the Activation Potion and took a deep sip.
The time for hesitation was over.
It was time for the final battle.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto the high priest's unwavering gaze.
"His posture… his expression…"
"Any Door is gone."
A dangerous glint flashed in Punk's eyes.
"This bastard is ready to fight to the death."