My job list is full of alien girls.

Chapter 78 What kind of mage are you?

"How dare you humiliate a great mage?!" the two-headed ogre roared.

"Since your spells have been etched into your brain since you can remember, and you're only using them instinctively—" Milan said, squinting, "then you're just a warlock at best, not a mage."

"Our Dharma Masters rely on acquired study and the construction of magical models, learning and cultivating step by step."

She crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, and spoke with arrogance, "Those of you who are ignorant and can only cast spells by instinct, you should all be classified as sorcerers."

"Bullshit!" The human-faced head instantly bristled, the veins on his neck bulging, ignoring the bleeding wound on his wrist from the arrow piercing him. "I can make potions and create life, why can't I be a mage?!"

"So, which school of thought do your spells belong to? How are your magic circuits constructed? Do you even understand the principle of elemental affinity? You probably haven't even heard of these things." Milan scoffed, and seeing that it remained silent, she continued.

"You haven't even mastered the most basic knowledge, and you're just guessing based on your innate instincts. How dare you call yourself a monk? The apprentices in our area all know more than you."

The human face and head were shoved until the skin turned a purplish-brown, and the person could only stare with their mouth open for a long time without being able to utter a single word of rebuttal, and could only let out meaningless roars with their neck stiff.

It truly couldn't articulate a single point of expertise.

Those magical knowledge are like imprints etched into the brain; one can only use them without understanding the underlying principles, let alone any school of magic.

But seeing Milan's arrogant and smug expression, an unnamed fire burned fiercely in his heart.

That damned mage!

He lost to that ranger and the warrior, not her, so what right does she have to shout like that?

"Me, me—what makes you so special!" it gasped, its murky eyes blazing with rage. "There are far more mages as powerful as me in our race!"

"That's right, there are plenty of mages in our race who are stronger than me, so what are you!" it roared ferociously.

"Oh? You're operating as a group?" Hearing this, Rhodes raised an eyebrow. "But don't you not even have a single one of your own kind who can talk? So where did your group come from?"

"?!"

Milan looked at him sharply, only then realizing the linguistic flaw in his words, and the smile on her face vanished instantly.

"Yes, you were just saying that this godforsaken place doesn't even have a single human of your own who can talk, and you wanted to create a race with the same characteristics as yourself," she frowned slightly, continuing her companion's words, "How come you suddenly have an entire race of mages?"

"Lady Milan is right!" Don Quixote immediately echoed, slamming his greatsword on the ground with a clang, and threatened, "Where is your race? How many two-headed monsters like you are there?"

Hearing their rapid-fire questions, the human-faced head initially flew into a rage, instinctively wanting to retort, but the words caught in its throat, replaced by a bewildered expression: "My, my people—where is my people?"

"Take your time, no rush." ​​Just as it looked confused, Rod crouched down and whispered in its ear.

"How many people are in your tribe? What do you usually do?" he asked gently, trying to piece together its jumbled memories. "What food do you eat? And where do you live?"

"I—let me think—"

Subconsciously, it tells itself that it has its own kind, its own family, and a whole clan of monks.

But the more it tries to delve into the memories of its own ethnic group, the more the information there seems to be shrouded in a thick fog, making it impossible to see clearly.

It tried so hard to think about it that its temples throbbed with pain, feeling as if they were about to split open.

"Impossible—I clearly have a race—" it muttered to itself, its eyes gradually losing focus, "and many more like me—I, we are all great mages—"

"But where is it—" It shook its head in anguish, both heads shaking together, its pig face emitting irritable grunts. "I can't remember—"

Seeing that it kept staring and babbling on and on, but couldn't utter any useful information, Milan's patience gradually ran out.

"Hmph, after thinking for so long, you still can't even make sense of your own words. Even if you want to lie to us, at least make your story believable!"

"I didn't! I didn't lie to you!" The human-faced head was completely shattered by these words, its turbid eyes filled with bloodshot veins, and its entire face twisted beyond recognition.

Its head, pressed against the ground, heaved, burrowing out a patch of sand, as it hissed incoherently, fragmented words rolling from its throat: "I have family—many mages like me—we live together, we study magic together, but where—where is it—" Its voice suddenly dropped, pounding its head against the ground incessantly, its voice trembling with a bewildered sob, "No—no, no, no!"

It remembered that it was born to belong to a certain group, the pride etched in its soul, and its noble status as a mage.

But all the specific images were blurred into a mess, impossible to grasp or touch. Fragments of memory rampaged through its mind, as if trying to tear it apart.

This pain shattered its last shred of sanity, and only magic could bring it peace and a sliver of solace.

"I know, I know! They've all disappeared, that's why I forgot about them!" But the next second, its tone suddenly rose, as if it were talking to itself in a dream.

"That's right, exactly!"

"I...I will find them! I am a great mage! I will resurrect them!"

The pig's face, which had been dull and listless, was now contagious with its frenzied emotions. It was breathing heavily, exhaling white vapor from its nostrils, and struggling with all four limbs.

crunch—

The iron arrows embedded in the wrist and ankle bones were pulled with a creaking sound, and much of the arrow shaft, deeply embedded in the rock strata, was actually pulled out.

"roar-

'

Both heads simultaneously unleashed deafening roars.

As it strained, dark red blood gushed out from the wound, splattering all over the ground.

But it was completely unaware, its massive body twisting wildly on the gravel ground, its muscular arms pounding the ground with a thud, seemingly about to break free of its restraints.

"Kill you all, kill you all and I can—"

"It's out of control, should we fix it?" Rod frowned and glanced at Milan beside him.

Although he was asking for her opinion, his fingertips were already on the bowstring, and a faint blue-gold light slowly shone on the arrowhead, ready to end her life at the first sign of trouble.

"We can't keep it. Get rid of it now, lest something unforeseen happens," Milan nodded, and a scorching flame quickly gathered at the tip of her purple staff. She didn't forget to instruct Don Quixote beside her, "Smash its head!"

"Yes, Madam Milan!" Don Quixote gripped his greatsword tightly, the blade decisively aimed at the two heads, not forgetting to ask, "Smash both of them, right?"

"Nonsense!" Milan, whose attention was focused on his own spells, couldn't help but shout when he heard Don Quixote's foolish and ridiculous question.

"Let us cleanse you of your sins!" Don Quixote readily agreed, bracing himself on his horse and swinging his greatsword with both hands, the blade whistling through the air as it slammed into the skull of the man's head.

Bang—

A muffled thud made her hands go numb, and even her greatsword bounced off her feet.

The human face and head were smashed hard against the gravel ground, a bloody gash appeared on the forehead, and blood smeared all over the face, but it only let out a muffled groan. The skull was as hard as granite and did not break at all.

Things obviously didn't go as smoothly as they had expected.

"So hard?!" Don Quixote's eyes widened. He refused to believe it and hit the pig's head again, but it only caused a bruised blood sac. The skull didn't even crack.

These two blows not only failed to defeat the opponent, but also completely unleashed the ferocity of the two-headed ogre.

"roar!"

It let out a low growl from its throat, and the muscles in its limbs bulged wildly.

Creak, creak—

The iron arrow embedded in the bone was pushed outward little by little, tearing the surrounding rock layers apart and causing gravel to fall down.

Its massive body arched into a shrimp-like shape, its bulging veins on its arms slamming into the ground, seemingly about to break free and pounce back.

"Get out of the way."

Rhodes’ voice was deep, and as soon as he finished speaking, the bowstring was fully drawn.

He drew out all the remaining magic power in his body and condensed it into two magic arrows with a rich cyan-gold hue at his fingertips. The arrows vibrated and hummed, their power even greater than the previous attack.

Upon hearing this, Don Quixote immediately jumped aside.

Two streaks of light shot out one after the other, accurately piercing the ogre's chest and abdomen, and exploding two fist-sized bloody holes one after the other.

The cyan-gold wind blades raged and churned within the flesh and blood, turning the internal organs into a mess, and blackish-red blood gushed out, instantly soaking the rubble beneath them.

The ogre let out a shrill scream; having lost most of its body, its struggles weakened considerably.

"Watch us smash you to pieces!"

Don Quixote seized the opportunity and pounced, gripping his greatsword upside down, and smashed the heavy hilt into the bloody hole in his chest and abdomen.

Knowing that she couldn't break the skull, she deliberately targeted the wounds opened by the magic arrows, stabbing deeper and deeper. The blade repeatedly cut the edges of the flesh, shredding the muscles that were trying to heal and forcefully stopping their regeneration.

"Ugh—!" The ogre convulsed in pain, its two heads shaking wildly, but Don Quixote held its shoulders firmly, preventing it from moving.

"You all, step back!" Milan pointed his staff forward and spoke in a deep voice.

Feeling the overwhelming heat that was so out of place with the cold, dark cave, Rhodes and Don Quixote immediately leaped back several meters.

boom!

The next second, a huge, blazing fireball slammed into the ogre's torso, and orange-red flames instantly spread, engulfing its body in flames.

The flesh sizzled as it was roasted, and the smell of burning flesh instantly filled the entire cave.

The torso rapidly carbonized and shrank under the high temperature, but the two heads were still alive and were even screaming incessantly.

The pig-faced head emitted intermittent roars, while the human-faced head howled incessantly with a hoarse voice, filled with resentment and malice: "I am—the great mage—I will not die so easily—"

"My clan—my family—"

The flames burned brighter and brighter, licking upwards along the neck, while the two remaining heads of the massive body could still make some noises from time to time.

"They're still alive—" Milan's expression changed upon seeing this.

The other party's vitality is so tenacious that even though the body is almost gone, the head is not affected?

"Then let us smash them!" Don Quixote roared, and his greatsword slashed down with immense force.

Amidst the flickering flames, the heavy greatsword cleaved the skulls of the two heads, striking their brittle skulls again and again under the intense heat.

"Is this... the curse of severance?" it murmured softly.

Until the voices of resentment faded away, the putrid brain matter mixed with blood splattered all over the ground, and finally, as the two shattered heads were completely engulfed by flames, all fell into silence.

The once enormous two-headed ogre was now reduced to a large pile of fine, grayish-white ashes, mixed with charred rubble, standing like a small mountain.

The cave finally fell completely quiet, with only the glowing moss on the rock walls still emitting a faint green light, reflecting the scattered alchemical artifacts and bones on the ground. The air still carried a strong smell of burnt metal and blood.

"call----"

The Don Quixote sword behind him slammed into the ground with a clang, and he slid down the rock wall to sit down.

The heavy armor began to weigh down her shoulders, making them ache. The open wound on her hand throbbed with pain. She gasped for breath, clutching the tie at her collar. Sweat dripped from her forehead down her jawline, splashing onto the gravel and leaving small, damp marks.

"Finally, it's over—this guy is too tough, my arm almost broke from the impact."

She shook her numb arms. Her helmet had long since rolled away in the battle, and her brown curly hair was plastered messily to her face, stained with blood and dust, making her look extremely disheveled.

Milan also slowly sat down against the rock wall, his staff resting horizontally on his lap.

Her face was several shades paler than when she entered the cave, and her lips were pale. Casting fireballs and activating scrolls had almost exhausted all her magic power, and her head was spinning.

She rubbed her throbbing temples, but her brows remained furrowed.

Although the two-headed ogre uttered many unbelievable and insane words, it was indeed capable of using magic and possessed terrifying strength and regenerative abilities.

Fortunately, they only encountered one this time. If there had been more, or even a whole colony as the other side claimed, appearing in large numbers—

A group of magical and thick-skinned monsters—Milan dared not think too deeply about what fate awaited them.

"That damned fusion experiment—" Milan thought, gripping her staff tightly. "This dangerous forbidden technique must not be allowed to continue!"

"When we get back, we must make sure the academy cracks down on these evil sorcerers!"

"————" Alina in the consciousness space was slightly startled when she heard this.

Her worst fears had come true.

Although it's different from that horrific experiment, if her union with Rhodes were discovered—

Will they also be wanted and hunted down by forces like the Arcane Society?

Rhodes' attention wasn't on that; he stared at the pile of ashes, then suddenly walked over slowly, half-squatted down, and said thoughtfully.

"There seems to be something in here."