Defense proved far more taxing than offense. Wayne held the Quen shield firm, a shimmering barrier deflecting the Leshen's relentless assault of thorny vines. Every fiber of his being strained against the relentless onslaught. Exhaustion gnawed at him, both physically and mentally. Yet, he persevered. He had to. Triss was his only hope.
Finally, a surge of magic pulsed through the air. Triss had freed the children and, with a final act of defiance, set the totem ablaze. The dark magic's oppressive aura started to recede, offering Wayne a sliver of relief. But his respite was short-lived.
The Leshen roared, a sound that shook the very ground. Enraged by the burning totem and Wayne's defiance, it unleashed a tempest of vines. The Quen shield flickered, strained to its limit, then shattered. Wayne was forced to roll, a desperate maneuver that barely saved him from the razor-sharp thorns.
He wasn't unscathed. Welts bloomed on his back and face, stinging with pain. Fury simmered within him, mirroring the flames consuming the totem. Gone were the tactics of containment. Now, Wayne fought with the desperate aggression of a cornered beast.
Dodging with lightning reflexes, he unleashed his arsenal on the Leshen. Bombs rained down, erupting in explosions that rocked the colossal creature. Igni, the sign of fire, roared to life at his fingertips, flames licking at the Leshen's bark-like hide. The monster bellowed in pain, its attacks momentarily faltering.
Wayne's smirk was a grim mask. He wasn't playing a game; this was a brutal fight for survival. He had used more bombs than he cared to admit, but his satchel held a few more.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, he tossed them one by one, the explosions echoing through the rocky arena. The Leshen roared in a primal fury, its form flickering as the flames devoured its flesh. Yet, it refused to yield.
In a desperate bid, the Leshen lumbered towards a nearby pool of mud, hoping to smother the flames. But the special fuel defied logic, clinging to the creature's hide with an unnatural tenacity.
Suddenly, the air crackled with a malevolent energy. The Leshen reared its head, a deafening bellow ripping from its throat. Dark clouds roiled across the previously clear sky, obscuring the sun. A fierce wind whipped through the clearing, and the rumble of thunder echoed ominously.
Within minutes, a torrential downpour lashed the land. Rain pummeled the ground, extinguishing the flames on the Leshen's body with a hiss of steam.
Wayne stared, momentarily frozen in shock. The grimoires he'd consulted held no mention of the Leshen wielding the power of the elements. This was a new and dangerous development in the fight.
The unexpected rain forced him to reconsider his strategy. He needed to act fast. The Leshen, now shrouded in a veil of rain and darkness, stood still, its next move shrouded in mystery.
Wayne cursed under his breath. The rain hampered his strategy, putting out the Dragon's Dream flames but failing to completely extinguish them. The Leshen, emboldened by the downpour, seemed to be regenerating, its aura intensifying. Vines lashed out once more, a constant reminder of the danger.
Suddenly, a strange sensation pulsed from the witcher's medallion nestled against his chest. It vibrated with a faint energy, mirroring the tremor it had when he freed the children. Back then, he'd attributed it to the dark magic. But the totem was ash now, the oppressive aura gone.
Intrigued, Wayne abandoned his defensive stance and entered a meditative trance. He channeled his energy, sharpening his senses. The world around him faded into a haze of sound and movement. His perception of magic intensified, allowing him to feel the very flow of power in the air.
A startling discovery hit him. The rain wasn't solely the Leshen's doing. The charred remains of the totem, or rather, the unknown entity housed within, seemed to be playing a part. It was as if the totem, or its prisoner, was influencing the weather.
This revelation sent a shiver down Wayne's spine. The situation had just become far more complex. He had to deal with not one, but potentially two powerful entities – the Leshen and whatever lurked within the totem's ruins.
Despite his limited magical aptitude, Wayne could vaguely sense a torrent of chaotic magic emanating from the charred totem. It pulsed outwards, seemingly guided by the Leshen, and coursed upwards, twisting and contorting the very clouds above.
A plan, desperate but audacious, formed in his mind. He tossed two bombs at the totem's base, followed by a swift incantation. A reinforced Yrden sign, potent and crackling with energy, materialized in his left hand.
The bombs detonated, creating fissures in the charred wood. Seizing the opportunity, Wayne slammed Yrden against the weakened base. The impact echoed as the totem, its central beam shattered, toppled backward with a groan.
What lay revealed beneath was a sight that sent a jolt through him. A condensed sphere of chaotic magic, the source of the Leshen's dark magic, pulsed with an otherworldly purple light. Hidden by the totem's enchantments, it had gone unnoticed, even by Triss' keen senses.
Had they known, this orb would have been their primary target. Now, exposed and vulnerable, it hung in the air, a beacon of raw power.
As Wayne contemplated this unexpected turn of events, a voice, foreign and disembodied, echoed in his mind.
Ding! Magic node triggered. Absorb and gain 3 ability points.
Accept / Decline
Wayne blinked, stunned for a moment. Then, a grin spread across his face. A magic node, a source of immense power, lay before him. This unexpected twist could turn the tide of the battle.
Understanding dawned on Wayne. The Leshen's cunning was undeniable. It had cleverly used the totem not only to conceal the magic node but also to harness its power, fueling its dark magic and control over the wolves and trolls. Given more time, the Leshen could have grown into a truly monstrous entity.
Now, facing defeat, the creature instinctively sought to tap into the node's power once more. But Wayne wouldn't allow it.
With a decisive nod, he accepted the system's prompt. An invisible force surged from him, drawing the magic node towards him like a moth to a flame. The concentrated energy coursed through him at an unimaginable speed.
However, this wasn't a simple power boost. The energy bypassed his body entirely, instead merging with his soul under the influence of that mysterious power. Not only that, the node's absorption rate seemed to accelerate, siphoning even more magic into him.
The process lasted for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the node sputtered and died, replaced by a faint crack in the air. A system chime echoed in his mind.
Energy absorption complete. Current ability points: 10.
A surge of exhilaration washed over Wayne. After two long years, he had finally amassed enough points to unlock the power of the ancient blood. It promised immense strength, a power that transcended mere mortals, but whispers of its dark side lingered, hinting at hidden costs.
The immediate concerns took precedence. With the magic node devoured, the unnatural storm above dissipated at an alarming rate, rain clouds vanishing as if sucked dry. The Leshen, momentarily revitalized, roared in frustration, a sound laced with despair. Without the downpour's aid, the flames rekindled, hungrily licking at its hide once more.
Wayne showed no mercy. He became a one-man demolition crew, raining down a hail of bombs and Dragon's Dream. Igni, the sign of fire, roared to life at his fingertips, adding its fury to the inferno. He kept a safe distance, a grim pragmatist unwilling to risk a close encounter with the enraged creature.
The battle dragged on for another ten brutal minutes. Wayne, a relentless storm himself, pelted the Leshen with alchemical fire. He didn't need fancy swordplay; sheer, overwhelming force was the key. Finally, the inevitable arrived. The Leshen's body, brittle as old wood, could no longer withstand the relentless assault. It crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut, collapsing in a heap.
The flames, no longer held in check, roared with renewed vigor, consuming the fallen monstrosity. Wayne, ever cautious, held his position. He wouldn't approach until the very last spark of life flickered out. Only when the Leshen's limbs were reduced to smoldering stumps, the sickening crackle of flames the only sound, did he allow himself a sliver of satisfaction.
The ancient evil lay vanquished, a smoldering testament to Wayne's determination. But as he surveyed the devastation, a shadow of unease crept into his heart. The battle was won, but at what cost? The power coursing through his veins, the whispers of the ancient blood, felt like a ticking time bomb within him.