"Crack~ Crack~"
The fine cracking sounds almost merged into one continuous noise.
There was no time to use the Igni, and the talisman was about to become completely ineffective.
"Wait!"
Fog... Little Fog Pearls...
[Name: Little Fog Pearl]
[Type: One-time item]
[Function: Crushing the Little Fog Pearl releases a dense fog illusion]
[Note: Sometimes, dense fog is not necessarily made of water vapor.]
With almost no options left, the Witcher took two Little Fog Pearls from his inventory, each one hazy with white mist, ready to crush them.
Suddenly.
The fine cracking stopped.
"…Surrender… surrender… surrender…"
A distant and grand voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
In a daze, it felt as though he had left the bloody, foul-smelling valley, standing instead in the bright and vast hall of a god.
Gentle sunlight streamed through stained glass, illuminating the hall and casting beautiful patterns on the floor.
He knelt on a soft and noble red carpet, as an imposing priest gently tapped his gem-encrusted scepter on his heart, his eyes, and the center of his forehead...
A voice, solemn yet cloaked with madness and a hoarse whisper, patiently persuaded the lost lambs:
"Surrender to the great Seer, the Lord of Supreme Truth, the Master of All Secrets... Herlanger…"
Before the voice could finish its praise.
"...Do not listen..."
A distant voice of a "young girl" suddenly rang in his ears.
"...Do not listen..." The girl's voice changed to that of a "woman."
"...Do not listen..." The woman's voice turned into that of an "old crone."
"Do not listen!"
The three echoes intertwined like the sound of a great bell.
"Hum~"
A buzzing sound came from behind him.
He was suddenly jolted awake, and a cold shiver ran from his spine to the top of his head. Before him, there was no priest, no magnificent stained glass, no soft sunlight, no holy hall...
He was still in that filthy, bloody valley, surrounded by the eerie, silent tentacles.
The glaring red light from the grotesque vertical pupils enveloped him.
"Hum~"
A violent tremor shook his back.
"Hmm!"
Allen's heart surged with joy.
Balmur was calling in desperation!
He didn't care whether the Little Fog Pearls would work; with his right hand, he gripped one tightly.
"Hmm?!!"
But his hands couldn't move at all… No, not just his hands—his limbs and body felt as if they no longer belonged to him, completely unable to move.
It was over... Allen's heart sank, as if he had fallen into an ice-cold abyss.
He didn't know when he had lost control of his body.
Before he could think of a way out, or give in to despair...
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
Two explosive sounds rang out, shaking the tentacles swaying around him. They dropped suddenly, like puppets with their strings cut.
One could only imagine that the progress of the ghoulish creatures' tasks must have increased significantly.
But that wasn't the focus.
The giant vertical pupil's red light flickered sharply on Allen.
"I can move!"
Excited, he quickly crushed the Little Fog Pearl. A misty haze slowly rose from the void, surrounding him. But the Little Fog Pearl was an illusion, and it might not be able to block the dark god's gaze.
Therefore.
He began to channel the magic within him, crossing his hands to rapidly form the Heliotrop sign.
A flash of purple magic barrier appeared.
His mind built a divine wall, and a faint purple silver light shimmered across his battle armor.
"Clang!"
After returning his sword to its sheath, Allen drew Balmur.
As soon as his hand gripped the ancient hilt, it emitted a joyful, bloodthirsty hum.
"Really picky..." Allen shook his head helplessly, unsure of when Balmur would truly become an extension of his will.
[Monster Hunt Progress: 81%]
But the [Monster Hunt] status had less than half a minute left.
"Come on!"
In the dense fog, he gripped his sword, spun around, and swung the blade.
The sword rang out sharply, and its brilliance carved a cold arc in the air, aiming at the tentacle that had just fallen beside him.
"Shh!"
Balmur was no longer a dull blade hacking at leather, but instead, it sliced the tentacle open with a massive wound.
Dirty blood sprayed from the smooth, broken end.
[Monster Hunt Progress: 97%]
One swing, sixteen percent!
Allen's eyes suddenly lit up, about to strike again.
"Ah—!"
The harsh, discordant sound violently shattered the hazy white mist, and the divine wall in his sea of consciousness wavered.
The gigantic single eye, clinging to the high tower, seemed to sense a strong threat, no longer holding the imposing height it had when it first arrived.
"...Blasphemer, die!"
A furious, maddened roar rumbled in his mind, and the giant vertical pupil flared with bright red light, as if it had ignited into searing flames.
"Who's going to die, we'll see!"
Allen smiled faintly, switching his grip, and the tip of Balmur's blade traced a half-circle, pointing at the tentacle beneath him.
Then.
"Whoosh!"
The long sword sank deeply into the flesh, with only the hilt left exposed.
"Whoosh—"
Foul-smelling blood spurted out like a fountain, splashing across the Witcher's hair and armor.
"Ding! [Monster Hunt Progress] 100%."
The cold system prompt echoed, and at that instant, the massive body of the summoning ritual (the dark god) seemed to sense something, trembling violently.
The single eye on the high tower, its vertical pupil, widened in horror and confusion.
It seemed bewildered, wondering how this insignificant ant beneath it could suddenly unleash such a terrifying and intense threat.
It was as if the small creature now had the power to kill the god itself.
"Presumptuous! How utterly presumptuous!"
The mental waves overflowed with intense rage.
The enormous pupil suddenly contracted, and the dense red light seemed to turn into mist, as if it carried high-temperature flames, distorting the air between it and the Witcher.
"Boom!"
Without hesitation, a mental attack severed a tentacle, thicker than the tower, at the waist.
It shattered flesh and bone, leaving jagged bone fragments and creating a deep three-meter crater in the ground.
Yet, this attack didn't hit the annoying pest.
At some point, Allen had somehow moved to another tentacle.
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
Each strike severed a tentacle, leaving a deep crater, but none of them hit the tiny Witcher. This seemed to enrage the self-proclaimed "Lord of Supreme Truth" dark god.
"Rumble~"
The oppressive pressure that had disappeared with the god's descent exploded once again, even more violently and ferociously, forcing the Witcher to jump and dodge.
The intense, evil aura spread throughout the entire valley with the burst of pressure.
"Screech~"
Just as the tremors of the conjunction subsided, the royal griffin, who had seized a scurver and was pulling it into the sky, suddenly screeched in fear, loosening its claws instinctively.
Among the ghoulish creatures, Vesemir, who was battling back and forth, suddenly raised his head.
"This pressure..." He furrowed his brows, looking toward the now chaotic center of the battlefield.
He couldn't see the familiar figure carrying two swords, only the tentacles, now resembling a Kraken from the Cidaris Bay, wildly flailing about.
The tentacles struck the towering mountain ridges on both sides of the valley, creating massive craters and directly altering the landscape of the valley.
After the thick smoke and dust settled, the entire summoning ritual was shrouded in a layer of light mist.
Vesemir could only peer through the gaps in the groups of ghoulish creatures, searching for that fleeting figure, following the massive energy fluctuations from the summoning ritual.
But eventually, as the tremors from the conjunction of spheres' collision ceased and the ghouls, rotfiend, and alghouls surged back, he gave up.
"It will be fine!"
Vesemir wiped the fine cold sweat off his forehead with his left hand, then swung his right hand to ignite a rotfiend in front of him before chasing after another batch of rotfiends.
No matter what caused the sudden upheaval in the summoning ritual, as long as it was still attacking, there was still movement, which meant Allen was still alive.
Then he had to cooperate with the "good girl" and do his part.
He glanced at the seemingly endless sea of ghoulish creatures.
Although he didn't know why, as the ghouls had already spread throughout the valley and even the alghoul that died under the summoning ritual's tentacle had outnumbered the ones he killed, what was the point of his actions now?
He could no longer stop the ghouls from interfering with Allen.
"But if I don't do this, what else can I do?" Vesemir spun around and struck down the head of a alghoul with his sword.
Only the blood of ghouls made him feel like he had some use, instead of being a useless mentor watching his apprentice fight and die.
"Boom!"
Another massive explosion sounded from the distance.
Vesemir didn't turn around.
The tentacles, wildly flying with immense power and destructive force, were no longer in a place he could interfere.
In fact, if it weren't for the initial time when he and the "good girl" had killed the remaining monsters in the valley and needed to block the ghouls from entering, he and the griffin might have already been killed by those tentacles.
"Master Vesemir!"
A familiar voice came from the forest at the valley's entrance.
Vesemir raised his head.
Sara, leading a group of soldiers, emerged from the forest, chasing a group of ghouls. The lights on their weapons and armours was close to fading out, but their faces indicated they were in good physical condition.
Vesemir thought for a moment, realizing the situation.
Since he and Allen had descended into the valley, countless ghouls had surged from the valley's entrance.
As long as he didn't stop or block their path, those creatures would pass by him without attacking.
It was probably the same with the human alliance; they just slaughtered and chased the "fleeing" monsters, so their condition was naturally good.
Of course.
In his and Allen's plan, the human alliance had done their part, even delaying the ghouls more than they expected.
In truth, Vesemir and the "good girl" had also done their part.
They had done as planned, but for some reason, Allen still hadn't solved the battle as quickly as he had said.
"It's me!"
Vesemir thought for a moment, leaving a few ghouls behind, and passed through the ghoulish creatures to reach Sara.
Just as he was about to explain the situation in the valley, find Ianna and Tissaia, and see if they could help Allen, at least get him out of those damn tentacles and save him...
"Allen, my lord..."
Sara sheathed his longsword, wiped the sweat from his face, and smiled, about to ask.
Suddenly.
His voice froze, and the smile on his face stiffened.
Vesemir noticed that Sara's gaze had shifted over his shoulder, looking behind him.
"By Melitele! What in the world is that thing?!!"
A large group of soldiers nearby noticed the creature, a monster with tentacles and a massive body, which only appeared in myths and legends.
They gaped, slowing down as they waved their weapons at the ghouls.
It was only because the ghouls were desperately rushing into the valley, otherwise, many would have died due to their negligence this time.
Of course, if the ghouls hadn't acted like this, they wouldn't have been so careless.
"That's..."
The summoning ritual... Vesemir was about to say.
"A dark god..."
Ianna interrupted him.
Riding a strange-shaped horse, as soon as she emerged from the forest, her body instantly tensed.
Vesemir's keen senses allowed him to see her pupils suddenly contract.
It was fear, astonishment, and despair.
Vesemir felt something was off.
The summoning ritual was indeed meant to summon a dark god; wasn't that already known?
Why was the Archpriestess Ianna so shocked?
Unless...
Vesemir's face went pale in an instant.
"What do you mean?" He rushed to Ianna's mount. "What does it mean by a dark god?"
The answer didn't come from Ianna.
It came from Tissaia, who had ridden out from behind Ianna.
"That sense of fear, the intensity of the pressure, the extreme evil 'aura'..." She frowned, looking down at Vesemir. "Vesemir, the dark god has already descended!"
After speaking.
She didn't bother to wait for the Witcher Master's response, but seriously looked at Ianna.
"We failed, Ianna."
"The blessing of the divine art has already ended."
"You know, with just us, we can't drive the dark god away. It's time to arrange an evacuation."
"The Academy of Aretuza has five sorceresses who can create portals, but they can't take everyone..."
"Where is Allen?" Ianna waved her hand to interrupt her, looking at Vesemir, who looked pale.
Vesemir pointed toward the depths of the valley.
There, endless ghouls, eight or nine tentacles thicker and longer than a human stone bridge, and the enormous dark god that nearly occupied the entire valley, creating a colossal, world-destroying presence...
Vesemir's finger pointed, and then he suddenly realized something.
"Boom!"
He forcefully pushed off the ground with his right foot, leaving a small crater, and rushed into the valley without looking back.
"... cáelme tuathe..."
A short spell suddenly rang out.
Vesemir, almost like a shadow, froze in mid-air and before falling unconscious, Tissaia used her staff to control him, floating him backward to her side.
"He will take a nap," Tissaia said. "Although I feel sorry for Allen's situation, wasting the time he fought for is not just unfortunate."
"What do you think?"
She looked at Ianna, her face expressing that if you do the same, I'll have to knock you out too.
"Is there no way to save him?" Ianna asked.
"No one can save anyone from the hands of an dark god in this situation. Not me, and not even Hen Gedymdeith if he were here," Tissaia shook her head. "Don't waste time. Let's arrange an evacuation..."
Ianna glanced at the black shadow, wildly thrashing in the depths of the valley.
After a second of silence, she sighed, tightened the reins, and seemed to have made up her mind.
"Try to teleport everyone out of here. Sara and Arthur will assist you."
"And you?"
"I have another method. It's worth a try..."
Tissaia obviously knew what Ianna's method was, and she stared at Ianna's aging face, seemingly contemplating whether she should cast another sleep spell.
"I'm a favored of the goddess. Sleep spells won't work on me," Ianna shook her head.
"Is it worth it?"
Ianna smiled kindly, "I'm already old. It's time..."
Time for what? Time to die?
Tissaia furrowed her brow with dissatisfaction, her expression serious.
She was still hesitating. Vera's apprentice didn't carry the same weight in her heart as Vera's adopted daughter did. Moreover, Ianna had once been her adopted daughter.
Of course, what was more important was...
Her sacrifice could very likely be in vain.
Tissaia's hand, gripping the staff, was twitching.
A sleep spell wouldn't work, but that didn't mean other spells wouldn't.
At that moment.
"Clang!"
A harsh scraping sound suddenly came from the depths of the valley.
She looked in the direction of the sound.
The dark god was glaring with its terrifying, wide eyes.
The scorching sun was rising in the bloody, frightening valley.
.....
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