"Allen... five..."
A hazy white light fluctuated in the darkness. A vague, indistinct voice, neither male nor female, echoed from within.
Five what?
Who is calling me?
The witcher instinctively tried to shout.
But no sound came out.
"Allen... five... five..."
The hazy light grew dimmer, and the voice became quieter. It seemed as if it was about to be swallowed by the boundless darkness.
In response.
A strange, intense fear made the witcher desperately want to move closer, to hear more clearly.
But the next moment. He realized that not only could he not speak, but his entire body felt as though it was paralyzed, unable to move.
No, that's not right!
It wasn't that he couldn't move...
It was that he had no body at all.
Upon realizing this, the witcher awoke as if from a dream.
At that moment. The hazy voice suddenly became clearer.
It said: "Allen... Mayfest... Allen... Mayfest..."
Those two words repeated over and over. Or maybe there were more words in between, but he couldn't hear them.
Then.
Before the witcher could fully grasp the situation. The hazy light extinguished, and suddenly his perspective pulled back at an incredible speed. In that moment, he saw his own form. He too was a ball of light, a deep blue light like the ocean. But this light was not as pure as the white light.
Earthy brown, wind green patches mixed within, with silver-white specks floating on the surface...
A tiny, yet unsettlingly sinister blood-red dot sat in the middle of the scattered silver specks.
When the witcher looked closely at it, he vaguely seemed to see...
The red dot was flickering strangely...
It was blinking...
"Hah—Hiss—Hah—Hiss—"
Allen sat up abruptly, his eyes wide open, breathing heavily. It took him a while to calm his breath, still shaken. He looked up. The sky was still dark, but it was that pre-dawn bluish-gray.
A cool breeze came from the horizon, rustling through the lush green oak trees, blowing through the slightly old, carved wooden window. It also blew away the heat from the witcher's body.
"It's still early..." he thought.
Then the witcher began to recall the dream he just had.
"Blue, brown, wind green, and silver specks. Judging by the ratio of the colors, it must be an elemental affinity for water, earth, wind, and space, no doubt..."
"But that red dot..."
Recalling the feeling of being watched by that tiny red dot, Allen couldn't help but shudder.
"My suspicions were correct; the evil god's gaze has only gone dormant, it hasn't been completely eliminated."
"So, that tainted sphere was my soul?"
After thinking for a long time, he couldn't come up with an answer.
"Tap, tap, tap~"
He got up and walked to the triune statue of the goddess. The maiden innocent, the mother gentle, the crone kind...
Cracks and gaps covered the gray-white stone body.
She appeared as always, dilapidated yet holy and approachable.
Staring at the sacred statue of Melitele, the witcher was silent for a long time before he sighed quietly: "Indeed, gifts are not so easily taken..."
"But Mayfest..."
"What exactly were you trying to tell me in that dream?"
The witcher shook his head helplessly: "Is Mayfest the time when the evil god's gaze can be dispelled, or..."
"Did you foresee something major happening on Mayfest and need me to do something?"
"But if something really is going to happen in Ellander on Mayfest, why not inform Ianna, and instead send a dream to a non-believer like me?"
"And where was that dark space?"
-------------------
One question after another came out.
The witcher craved answers. But the statue only smiled serenely, saying nothing. As if it had always been so for a thousand years, and would remain so for a thousand more...
The gods had never existed.
What stood before him was nothing more than a block of stone.
The witcher stared at the statue in silence for a long time, thoughts surging in his mind like waves in a stormy sea. He remembered that Ianna had just mentioned yesterday that Mayfest was the day of the year when the goddess Melitele's power was at its peak.
The Mayfest celebration was also a powerful ritual, using human emotions to channel the goddess' power and help restless spirits find peace.
So.
It was very possible the goddess was reminding him to participate in the ceremony that day, to dispel the gaze. And in that case, this matter was related only to him. It made sense that Melitele hadn't informed Ianna.
However...
Could it really be that simple?
If it was just a reminder for him, then why did she give him so many gifts yesterday?
The witcher frowned.
He had a feeling that something would happen during Mayfest. But if that was indeed the case, the archpriestess would surely have known in advance.
Unless...
The archpriestess didn't have the ability to know, or the goddess couldn't pass on her divine message to the archpriestess...
Either way, it didn't seem like a good sign...
"Enough thinking," Allen shook his head, "I'll ask Ianna when she comes over later. Maybe she already knows and just hasn't told me?"
"And besides..."
"The first possibility seems more likely..."
----------------------
After finishing the lavish breakfast Lysa brought, Ianna arrived as promised.
"Allen, how did your conversation with Margarita go yesterday..."
As soon as she entered the statue room, brushing past Lysa, the archpriestess teased with a cheerful tone, "Why did you leave so quickly? We were waiting to say goodbye to you..."
Waiting to tease me, huh?
The witcher rolled his eyes inwardly and didn't bother to argue.
Not to mention Vera. By now, he had gotten quite familiar with Ianna after so many days. Leaving without saying goodbye didn't really matter. Besides, he had asked Mary to pass a message for him.
Of course.
None of that mattered now.
"Wait, Mother Ianna," seeing Ianna about to say something more, the witcher quickly interrupted, "Before the ceremony, there's something I need to tell you."
Seeing Allen's serious expression, Ianna dropped her playful tone, stepped closer, and asked: "What is it? Did you have another dream last night?"
The witcher nodded and recounted the scenes from his dream in detail.
As a priestess of the goddess Melitele, or any priest of the true gods, interpreting dreams was part of their skill set. It was a universal skill among priests of all races. Although he didn't believe it was just a dream last night.
"A dark space, white light, a red dot like an eye, and Mayfest..." Ianna muttered under her breath, frowning.
After a few seconds, she reached out and grasped Allen's hand. A warm current flowed through the witcher's body.
"I still can't sense any trace of the evil god's presence in you," Ianna shook her head. "By normal standards, you should have already 'recovered' by now, but..."
She paused, giving Allen a gentle look, reassuring him, "Originally, I planned to keep you here until the end of the month, so you could experience the most famous May Festival in the Northern Continent at Ellander."
"So, it's not really a big deal..."
The witcher could hear the hint of doubt in Ianna's tone. It wasn't doubt about him lying. Rather, she believed it was just a normal phenomenon, a case of day-thoughts turning into night-dreams.
During the day, Allen had suspected the curse wasn't fully lifted, so it was natural that at night, he would dream that it hadn't been. Even though Allen had always replaced sleep with meditation, it was still the same.
At least, it was more believable than the archpriestess of the Melitele faith— the most widespread religion in the Northern Continent— being unable to detect any remnants of the evil god.
Allen understood this.
If he and Ianna weren't close, he would have simply nodded and stopped trying to convince her that there might be another possibility. But Ianna wasn't just anyone. So, the witcher gathered his thoughts and looked at Ianna: "Ianna, could it be possible..."
"The goddess... uh... the white light's mention of the May Festival might not be about any lingering curse on me..."
"But rather that something bad could happen during the May Festival itself?"
Ianna listened to these words without speaking immediately. She studied Allen's face carefully. After a long moment, she stood up straight and seriously asked: "Is this a prophecy?"
"Like the dream where you predicted the fall of Kaer Morhen Fortress?"
Allen was stunned for a few seconds, then realized that the prophecy dream must have been told to her by Vera.
"I'm not sure..." the witcher admitted honestly, then tentatively asked, "Is there... no way for you to contact the goddess?"
Ianna shook her head: "As I mentioned a few days ago, we haven't received an oracle from the goddess in decades."
After a brief pause, she continued softly: "In fact, on the second day you arrived, when I heard that voice calling you in the dream, I prayed using divine magic..."
"The divine magic worked as usual, but the oracle..."
Ianna gently shook her head. Seeing this, the witcher couldn't help but feel surprised. The archpriestess of the Melitele faith couldn't hear Melitele's oracle...
If the followers outside knew, it would cause chaos on the scale of the Falgar Rebellion...
Is this something I'm supposed to hear?
Allen shrank his head slightly.
"Haha..." Ianna guessed the witcher's thoughts and chuckled softly. "Didn't I already tell you? We're family."
Family after just a few days?
Allen wisely chose not to argue and changed the subject: "What about dream interpretation?"
"I've heard that priests are usually skilled in..."
Before he could finish, Ianna waved her hand to interrupt him: "The dream interpretation you're referring to is a sham, meant to scam money from the nobility."
Huh?
The witcher was baffled.
Dream interpretation is fake?
But in the original story, wasn't the future archpriestess of the Melitele faith, Nenneke, always insistent on having the gifted priestess Eola interpret Geralt's dreams?
Is it that someone like Eola is hard to find, or is this another difference between the two worlds?
"Do you really think something will go wrong during the May Festival?" Ianna asked after a few moments of silence.
"I'm not sure..." Allen replied honestly.
"But you feel uneasy?" Ianna pressed.
Allen thought for a moment and nodded. Although he didn't know what price Melitele had to pay for last night's good fortune, It didn't seem worth it to pay so much just to remind him to join the May Festival celebrations.
"I understand," Ianna sighed. "I'll inform Mason to make some extra preparations."
Even though it was unclear what "extra preparations" meant or how much effort it would require, It was clear the cost wouldn't be small, and if nothing happened, it would surely provoke discontent among the nobility of Ellander toward the temple.
"You believe in my intuition?" the witcher asked, puzzled.
"Don't underestimate yourself..." Ianna said meaningfully, "You are a child of miracles. Knowing that is enough for me."
"And making Mason spend a little more money isn't a big deal..."
"As long as the May Festival begins and ends safely, it will all be worth it."
"Alright, there's no rush for the preparations. First, let's learn today's ritual..."
---------------------
[Name: Magic Ritual]
[Type: Magic Ritual]
[Requirements: Ritual Studies LV4]
[Materials: Chalk 2, Glass 2, Sulfur 2, Magic Dust 1]
[Function: Creates a formation that increases mana capacity. For five hours, the first person with magical abilities who enters the formation and focuses on it will have their mana capacity increased.]
[The caster can also drain the formation's power to obtain a proportional amount of Quintessence]
[Note: Every sorcerer who sets up a mana ritual is like a glass cannon!]
Just like the life ritual learned the other day, the magic ritual was a large-scale ceremony that required nearly a full day to set up. And even if it failed, there was no danger. So, after teaching Allen the basic setup methods in the morning, Ianna left the shrine with confidence to inform the old duke about the changes regarding the May Festival.
As for Allen,
After successfully setting up the magic ritual and testing it out, He found that the ritual not only acted like a battery that automatically absorbed ambient mana, But under the enriched mana, his simplest ice spear spell became thicker and longer, almost on par with the Drowner King's release.
The chanting time was also halved.
Releasing one ice spear every two seconds gave Allen a rare taste of the joy of being a spellcaster.
Within five minutes of finishing the ritual, the open space in front of the shrine was filled with slanted, glowing blue ice spikes. The surrounding temperature had dropped by at least ten degrees.
And under the influence of the ritual, even though the amplification of signs wasn't as significant as that of the ice spear spell, it was still boosted by at least thirty percent.
"Chalk, glass, sulfur, and magic dust... the materials aren't expensive, and..."
With a thought, the witcher activated the ritual.
The circular ritual array emitted a flash of white light, and as the connection to the array disappeared, a thumb-sized piece of emerald-green powder appeared at the center.
"Hmm, just this much Quintessence?" After putting the powder into a small glass vial, Allen shook it slightly. "If we don't count the time spent setting up the ritual and absorbing the mana, it's still a bit of a loss."
"But it's rare to find a ritual that doesn't just consume resources but also gives something back..."
After cleaning up the remnants of the ritual, the witcher decided not to return to the shrine. Instead, he headed straight for Vera's residence.
It was still early.
It was time to brew all the potions he had gained the recipes for last night. He had been holding back all day to learn the magic ritual. Now, he couldn't wait to brew the Blizzard potion and test whether bullet time in reality was as powerful as in the games.
Moreover...
The witcher stroked the stubble on his chin: "Since the May Festival might have serious problems due to the evil god's curse..."
"I can't rely solely on Ianna and the old duke's 'preparations'..."
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
262. Did Yennefer Start Hating Me?
263. Is the Witcher Not Human?
264. The Witcher's Epic Advancement.
265. Blood and Fire.
266. The Consequences of Spreading Rumors About the Wild Hunt.