Chapter 566 - 565: A Mage’s Battle

Chapter 566: Chapter 565: A Mage’s Battle

Meanwhile, empowered by Instant Potency, the light between Colin’s brows grew increasingly blinding.

As the final syllable of the Spell was uttered, a silver Mind Spear shot out from between Colin’s brows, striking the Owlbear squarely between its eyes.

The Owlbear shuddered violently.

The powerful Mind Shock was far more than the beast’s brain could withstand. The Owlbear’s massive eyes shot wide open, and it collapsed to the ground, twitching uncontrollably.

At that moment, Dorn’s figure materialized near its neck.

A sharp, crimson Dagger plunged into its feather-covered neck. Blood gushed from the Owlbear’s nostrils, eyes, and mouth.

The giant beast violently shook its lowered head, instantly locking onto the source of the attack—the two humans flying above it.

The Owlbear swiped its claws directly at Dorn in mid-air.

"Whoa!"

The Gray Dwarf cried out and hastily gained altitude, narrowly dodging the sharp claws.

The Owlbear rose onto its hind legs, letting out a shriek like a barn owl as it swiped its claws at the duo in the air.

The shriek was so piercing that Colin felt a sharp pain in his eardrums.

After swiping at the empty air a few more times, the Owlbear on the ground quickly realized it couldn’t possibly catch its two flying enemies. It turned and fled deeper into the forest.

Colin and Dorn flew in pursuit. The flight Speed from the Fly spell far surpassed the Owlbear’s running Speed, making it nearly impossible for the beast to shake them.

"This Magic is pretty handy, Colin," Dorn said, casually flinging Spiritual Daggers at the Owlbear’s backside as he spoke.

"This is how a Mage fights," Colin replied. "Of course, it’s only useful in situations like this. If we were up against a unit armed with Heavy Crossbows, flying would just make us easy targets."

Another Spiritual Dagger was thrown.

The sprinting Owlbear didn’t even have time to make a sound before it pitched forward and fell. Its massive body plowed a shallow furrow in the earth, snapping a thick tree root in the process.

"And that’s that. Easy enough." Dorn dispelled the Spiritual Dagger he had just formed. "Speaking of which, the local Druids won’t give us any trouble for this, will they?"

"Why would they? It was self-defense." Colin finished, then prodded the little owl on his shoulder. "Go get Kase and the others."

The little owl immediately flapped its wings and flew off.

Colin and Dorn landed beside the Owlbear and waited in silence for Kase and the others to arrive.

A short while later, the Half-Orc appeared between a few thick tree trunks, leading Big Hoof Treasure by the reins.

Kase rushed over to the Owlbear and inspected the carcass. "It’s a male," he said, disappointed. "Guess we can’t go looking for its nest to find any Owlbear eggs."

"You’ve found Owlbear eggs before?" Colin asked.

"I’ve eaten one before." Kase’s expression turned regretful. "I didn’t know they were valuable at the time. I only found out later they can sell for Several Hundred Gold Coins."

"If that were me, I’d have to slap myself a few times," Dorn said, clearly enjoying Kase’s misfortune.

"Right now, I’m feeling like slapping *you* a few times."

Just then, Old Yaxi and the other two arrived. They had likely left the ox-cart by the side of the path.

"Good heavens, this beast is so... huge," Old Yaxi marveled, staring at the fallen Owlbear. He then glanced at the unharmed Dorn and Colin. "You’re amazing, sirs."

"We need to harvest the feathers and other materials from this Owlbear. It’ll take a bit of time, is that okay?" Colin asked.

"No problem, please go right ahead, sir." Old Yaxi gestured behind him. "I should get back to watch the ox."

"Alright. Orelia, go with him," Colin said. "Shout if you run into any trouble." He then unstrapped the Armor from his forearms, drew his Dagger, and started to butcher the Owlbear carcass with Kase and the others.

Except for its owl-like head, the Owlbear’s anatomy was mostly bear-like. Having butchered a White Frost before, Colin and Kase were well-practiced in this sort of work.

Dorn, having spent a long time living underground, was also adept at the task; after all, his skill with a Dagger was far superior to the other two.

"Owlbear materials aren’t all that useful," Dorn said as he worked. "Their hides are about as durable as an Ordinary polar bear’s. They’re mostly good for making decorations."

"You can decide what to do with the materials; they’re yours anyway." Colin flipped up the visor of his Charell Helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow with an elbow. "This one’s white. Looks like a variant from the North."

"Probably because of the Winter Calamity."

Kase said, slicing off a chunk of glistening white fat and casually popping it into his mouth.

’Watching him do that made Colin’s stomach turn.’

’Even though he and the Half-Orc were practically blood brothers, he still couldn’t get used to some of his habits.’

Just then, Ale also pulled out her Dagger, sliced off a piece of fat, and put it in her mouth. After a few chews, she frowned in thought, then licked her lips. "Its fat is denser than a bear’s. This is my first time eating it raw... not bad at all."

Seeing the delicate-featured Half-Elf do the same, even Dorn was stunned for a moment by the sheer contrast.

The group quickly harvested the Owlbear’s feathers, pelt, and claws. They also took the head, as someone might want it for a collection.

After coating all the parts with Antiseptic Oil and packing them away, the group set out again.

Seated on the ox-cart, Old Yaxi smiled at Colin. "Sir, folks like you must be top-tier Adventurers, aren’t you?"

"I’d say we’re only about mid-level."

As he replied, Colin’s mind drifted to the victory parade he had seen in Thousand Masts City.

"It must be a dangerous life you lead. Hmm, may the Morninglord protect you," said Old Yaxi.

"And may the Morninglord protect you as well."

As he responded, Colin glanced at Old Yaxi.

His expression was utterly sincere, with no trace of flattery or sycophancy.

’If prayers actually work,’ Colin thought to himself, ’then I hope the Morninglord spares you from misfortune for the rest of your days.’

After following the forest path for a short distance, the party emerged from the trees, and the small village of Piotrawin came into view.

The village was not large—a small settlement of fifty households at most.

As Colin’s group approached the entrance to the village, everyone—farmers walking along the path, women embroidering in their courtyards—stopped and turned to stare.