"Wherever there is thick fog, there might be a foglet."
"If there is no fog, the foglet can create or summon it."
"The fog not only hides the foglet but also serves as its weapon. They manipulate the mist, causing travelers to get lost, lose their way, and be unable to hear sounds..."
Allen recalled the book he read a few days ago in the library, "Foglets and Lost Travelers," as he swam towards the source of the sound, murmuring to himself. Vesemir had only briefly mentioned foglets in his lectures on monster studies.
"When you encounter thick fog, remember to turn back and avoid it."
This was the only advice the Witcher master had given. After all, such monsters were irrelevant to Witcher apprentices who had not yet completed the Mountain Trial. During their travels after the trial, the apprentices' travel mentors would gradually teach them the characteristics of both common and uncommon monsters.
Unfortunately, reality was not as Vesemir had thought. Foglets appeared during the Mountain Trial, posing a serious threat to the apprentices' lives.
"Whoosh~"
Allen stepped out of the lake onto the damp grass. A faint white light shone through the dense fog about thirty to forty meters ahead. A thin boy, seemingly around Allen's age, was crouched in the bushes, appearing trapped.
"Help me... Please help me..."
As the distance closed, the enticing quality of the voice grew stronger, making it hard for Allen to resist.
At that moment,
"Buzz~"
The Witcher apprentice's chest vibrated slightly, and a cool sensation rushed into his mind, clearing his thoughts. The inexplicable sense of trust induced by the temptation vanished instantly.
"It's the Mirage Pearl!"
Allen was familiar with this kind of mental connection. He hadn't expected the Mirage Pearl to also resist magical temptations. No, it was more than that. As the Witcher apprentice's mind fully connected with the Mirage Pearl, his blue cat-like eyes contracted, and the illusion thirty to forty meters away faded.
A filthy, gray-skinned figure crouched where the boy had been, its posture hunched and menacing, with sharp claws and fangs.
"It's definitely a foglet!"
Seeing the hidden, grotesque creature, Allen didn't rush to attack. He drew out Elsa and retrieved "Necrophage Oil" from his inventory, evenly coating the sword's blade with the blood-red oily substance.
Next, he quickly circulated the magic within him, bending his thumb and forefinger to trace a triangle in the air before him.
Quen Sign.
A golden glow flashed across the brown leather armor. With the increased mysterious properties, the shield's thickness had at least doubled. With the shield and sword oil prepared, the foglet remained in place, waiting for its prey to step into the trap. Unfortunately, this was of no use in front of Allen, who had seen through its trickery.
"Step~ Step~"
With steady footsteps, Allen pretended to be ensnared, his right hand's silver sword hanging limply, though ready to be gripped at any moment. The silver blade reflected a faint red light, appearing particularly eerie in the dense fog.
"Step~ Step~"
The foglet's grotesque face came closer, drooling from its blackened yellow mouth, its claws twitching eagerly. As the creature's bizarre humanoid form and ghastly skin drew near, it sent a chill down Allen's spine. The foglet didn't attack even as Allen nearly reached it, merely stretching its claws.
"Damn monster, quite patient," Allen cursed inwardly, gripping Elsa tighter.
The next moment, as Allen stepped within three strides of the foglet, he tightened his grip on the silver sword, lunged forward, spun, and slashed.
"Thud!"
A faint red light flashed as a large head fell from the slender body. Sharp claws swung wildly in the air before Allen sidestepped them easily. The battle was so effortless that Allen felt he'd wasted a bottle of necrophage oil.
"Is this the joy of hunting with prior knowledge?" Allen mused, smacking his lips.
Wait!
Allen suddenly felt something was missing.
Hmm?
Why hadn't the monster hunting log's evaluation appeared yet?
"Whoosh~ Whoosh~"
At that moment, the sound of rustling bushes behind him heightened his alertness, but it was too late.
"Crack!"
A force struck from behind, and the sound of shattering glass followed.
The Quen shield broke!
Allen had no time to worry about the muddy ground. Using the force of the push, he rolled and stood up, quickly recirculating his magic. A golden glow flashed. The Quen shield reappeared on his leather armor. Then Allen saw the culprit.
Blue eyes, gray skin, bald head, thin frame.
It was a second foglet!
"Damn, where did this foglet come from?"
"Is there a third one?"
Not knowing the situation, Allen didn't attack the foglet as it lost its balance after being pushed by the shattered shield. Instead, he remained vigilant, quickly scanning the surroundings and observing the eerie, dense fog-covered forest.
Aside from trampled underbrush near the foglet's position, there were no other signs. He hadn't been attacked again, so it seemed there was only one left.
But why hadn't he noticed it earlier?
Allen prided himself on not being careless. Before attacking the first foglet, he had carefully surveyed the surroundings with the Conch Pearl. Seeing only one monster had made him confident enough to set the trap. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left his back unguarded against an unknown enemy.
As Allen pondered this, the foglet he had pushed down got up and dissolved into the fog, blending in seamlessly. Even using the Mirage Pearl, Allen couldn't detect anything unusual.
"This mist-like skill isn't just an illusion," he thought.
Was the Mirage Pearl ineffective because it wasn't an illusion? Or was it a type of illusion beyond the Mirage Pearl's detection?
While pondering, Allen held his sword in a middle guard position, carefully observing the thick fog. Sure enough, within the Witcher's heightened senses, a small patch of fog moved unusually fast.
"There it is!"
With a shout in his mind, Allen lunged forward, reaching the abnormal fog in the blink of an eye, and spun to slash. The silver sword glowed red, cutting through the white mist. Strangely, Elsa seemed to slice through ordinary fog, hitting nothing.
"Damn, this is an illusion!"
Allen's heart sank, but before he could retreat, he heard a scream.
"Screech—"
The fog turned into a foglet, its face twisted in pain, gray flesh contorting, the thin body trembling and unsteady.
Allen's eyes lit up. He gripped the sword with both hands, crouched, and lunged forward.
"Thud"
The silver sword pierced the foglet's throat. In a few steps, he circled the monster. Putrid blood splattered onto Allen's face.
"Ding!"
[Monster "Foglet" defeated!]
[Reward Calculation: ...]
...…..
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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62. Will You Surrender?
63. Are You Full?
64. Old Speartip Arrives!
65. The Charge of the Cyclops.
66. Do You Think I'm Alone?