[... The "Wraith" from the Conjunction of the Spheres will appear in 27 seconds, please prepare yourself!]
Watching the countdown slowly tick down to zero, the Witcher thought for a moment and pulled out two pieces of black cloth from his chest. It was the enchanted set of night gear gifted by Francesca.
Wearing the mask would allow him to become invisible at night. The headscarf could eliminate the sounds of breathing, footsteps, and even his heartbeat. He hadn't used this stealth gear in so long, he'd almost forgotten he had it.
In general.
When monsters were summoned during the Conjunction of the Spheres, there would always be a period of dizziness and disorientation. This gave the Witcher an initial advantage. This was also why he dared to complete the hunting mission and summon the Conjunction of the Spheres at this time.
Allen was no longer the Witcher apprentice he once was when he first crossed over.
With the initial advantage, if the summoned creature was of the same level as the Drowner King or the Giant Swamp Sprite, he could use [Monster Hunt] to land several consecutive strikes and finish it off once he accumulated enough progress. But wraiths, after all, could phase through.
He wasn't sure whether the monster summoned by tracing the Wraith's world would also experience the dizziness.
Wearing this gear should ensure everything went smoothly... right?
The Witcher tightened the mask.
Instantly.
The surroundings became so quiet that the only sounds were the crackling of the campfire burning the dry branches and the rustling of the cold night wind sweeping through the grass.
Even the few wraiths that had been chasing him suddenly paused, as if they had lost their target.
A few seconds later, they resumed floating toward the Witcher. But by then, Allen no longer had the time to worry about them.
...4, 3, 2, 1.
As the countdown ended, the Witcher's vision turned blood-red. It was as if everything in front of him was soaked in blood.
A particularly horrifying sight.
[Warning! Warning! Warning!]
[Detected fluctuation from the Conjunction of the Spheres! Detected fluctuation from the Conjunction of the Spheres!]
"Buzz~"
The wolf medallion throbbed violently, but Allen's ears couldn't hear any sound. None of these strange occurrences disturbed the Witcher's state of mind. The Conjunction of the Spheres, an old acquaintance by now!
While Allen crouched slightly, ready to meet the impact...
He scanned the surroundings by the firelight, hoping to spot the place where the monster would emerge.
In the next moment.
In the flickering campfire light, a deep, pitch-black hole appeared about ten meters to the Witcher's right, as if it was absorbing all light around it. As soon as the black hole appeared.
Allen quickly turned right, took three rapid steps, and silently crouched down, channeling his magic into the earth just under the black hole, barely a meter away from it.
Yrden sign, magic trap.
"Pop—"
A light sound, like a soap bubble bursting near his ear.
"This sound seems a bit too small..." The thought flashed through his mind as the Witcher rolled forward twice without hesitation, warily watching the air around the distorted black hole. Then, extending his right hand, he was about to draw Elsa.
But unexpectedly, at that moment...
Behind the Witcher, right beside Elsa, something trembled ever so slightly. That was where the Divine Sword Balmur was.
The Witcher hesitated for a moment.
At that time.
The black hole began to change...
A green light, no bigger than a thumb, was spat out...
Huh?
Why so small?
Allen's hand, which had been reaching for Balmur, paused, and his blue cat-like eyes widened in surprise. Just as he was quickly thinking about how to fight such a small monster...
The next moment.
"Hiss—"
With a bizarre, sharp, and spine-chilling snake-like hiss, the green dot of light suddenly expanded.
--------------
"Da-da-da~"
The rhythm of hooves striking the ground was slowing down, but the warhorses' breathing grew heavier and rougher. Their pounding hearts even drowned out the sound of the fierce wind whipping past their ears.
"Neigh—"
One of the warhorses in the group, either exhausted or having stepped into a pit, let out a long whinny before it and its rider crashed heavily to the ground. They were quickly swallowed by the Wraith tide following behind.
"Ah—"
The knight's scream quickly faded away.
"We need to rest for a moment!" At the head of the long line, Vesemir turned another Wraith into a burst of green smoke, his mind racing.
The horses had reached their limit. Even though fewer and fewer wraiths were chasing them. He had no choice but to lead the knights away from the Wraith tide and let the horses rest for a while.
And in truth.
It wasn't just the horses.
The knights riding them were in no better condition. Every one of them was breathing heavily. Since Vesemir had joined them to slow down the Wraith tide, they hadn't had a moment of rest.
Although they didn't have to fight, merely following him. But riding a horse while wearing heavy armor was exhausting enough. Not to mention, they had to suppress their fear of death and endure the freezing temperatures while approaching those grotesque wraiths.
"Master Vesemir... we can still... keep going..." Arthur, panting heavily and red-eyed, staggered over to Vesemir as he sheathed his sword and started to lead the group away from the wraiths.
"No, you can't!" Vesemir laid his sword flat on his horse's now steady back, cutting him off with a blank expression.
Ignoring Arthur and the other knights' anxious protests, he glanced back at the area now engulfed by a green tide. Through the mist, he could just barely see the fallen knights and their horses. That was the fourteenth knight to fall since he had joined them, in such a short time.
This time, the Witcher master wasn't about to listen to any more excuses like "That was just an accident," "There was a pit in the ground," or "Bad luck..."
To be honest.
Vesemir could understand the knights' growing fear as more and more wraiths returned to the tide, drawing closer to the ritual circle, to Ellander, and to their loved ones. He wasn't a stranger to sacrifice.
But...
Ever since they had almost undone all their previous efforts by returning to the Monster Hunting army to fetch the Specter Oil due to a "mistake," or more accurately, a lack of knowledge about monsters.
Including Arthur, the seemingly calm officer, all the knights' mental states had collapsed. They were recklessly risking their lives, as if trying to atone. This was not what experienced soldiers should do.
It was also utterly pointless.
Right now, Vesemir was the only one in the group actually making a difference. The other knights were just following to avoid lowering the wraiths' focus on them.
Of course.
More importantly...
Though Vesemir wasn't particularly versed in ritual studies, by watching Vera's ritual circle gradually fill, he could estimate a rough timeline. As long as nothing went wrong here or with Allen, and the Monster hunting army kept the wraiths at bay.
The timing should work out. There was no need for these honorable knights to waste their lives in vain.
Still.
Hearing the intense, almost explosive heartbeat of both man and beast, and seeing their desperate, red-eyed faces as they lost their sanity.
Vesemir knew reasoning wouldn't help, so he sternly reprimanded them with just one sentence: "I am the Witcher master, do you think you know more than I do about dealing with monsters?"
Then, no one spoke again.
Staring at the constantly returning wraiths and listening to the breathing of people and livestock around him, Vesemir silently calculated the best time to reengage in battle. Beside him, Arthur, though anxious, knew that without Vesemir, returning would be useless.
All they could do was exchange glances with their subordinates and try to regulate their breathing. Surprisingly, hearing the Witcher Master's reprimand actually calmed Arthur's heart.
That's right! Vesemir is the Witcher Master!
Since he is so composed, there must be no problem!
The more he thought about it, the more Arthur's restless heart gradually settled.
"And besides, we have two Witcher Masters..." he let out a long breath.
Now that he thought about it, Master Allen was only fourteen years old. Recalling the necrophage oil, the specter oil, and the blood-dripping, terrifying alghoul head...
Arthur couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.
Not only could Allen create exceptional potion formulas, but he was also powerful enough to easily hunt large monsters.
Was this the difference between an ordinary person and a genius?
To avoid thinking about the wraiths anymore and to keep his mind clear, Arthur's thoughts wandered. His eyes unconsciously drifted toward the other side of the wraith horde. But now, it was night, and the horde of wraiths blocked his view, so naturally, he couldn't see anything...
Huh?
Arthur's eyes suddenly widened.
"What is that?"
Vesemir, who was listening intently to the sound of heartbeats, instinctively turned his head toward Arthur, then followed his gaze.
In the next moment, his golden cat eyes contracted into narrow slits, and his breathing stopped.
He saw it.
At the rear of the wraith horde, a giant skeleton at least ten meters tall had suddenly appeared. It glowed faintly with an eerie green light.
A single vertical eye.
A strong pressure spread like a gust of wind the moment the Witcher Master laid eyes on this giant. Not only did Vesemir feel a heavy weight on his body and strain on his heart, but the warhorses also whinnied and became restless.
"Clatter, clatter, clatter~"
The sound of chattering teeth echoed from the ranks of the knights beside him. The massive horde of wraiths seemed to be suppressed by this overwhelming power.
Nearly a thousand wraiths turned almost simultaneously toward the monster and abruptly stopped in their tracks. It was as if subjects had met their king, or like animals facing their natural enemy...
Seeing this bizarre scene, a shiver ran down Vesemir's spine, coldness seeping from the base of his spine to the top of his head.
"Damn! Allen is still over there!!!"
The Witcher Master exclaimed and spurred his horse to charge forward.
Startled, Arthur quickly reached out to stop him, but how could an ordinary person, even a skilled knight, possibly hold back a Witcher Master?
"Neeeiiigh—"
Breaking free in an instant, Arthur's outstretched hand grabbed onto the horse's rope, yanking hard. The horse neighed in pain, almost kicking him, but it also sped up.
"Thud, thud, thud~"
The sound of galloping hooves grew louder.
As Arthur was helped back up by the other knights, his face was as pale as a corpse.
He stared blankly at the colossal, god-like monster, at the wraiths who now looked like well-trained soldiers, and at the Witcher Master rushing off in panic...
His arms fell limply to his sides, his heart sinking into despair. The horse's rough tail fell to the dust below.
It's over...
Ellander... it's over...
----------------
"What kind of monster is this?"
Caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the large, green creature, the Witcher retreated quickly, holding the trembling Balmur in his hand, which seemed to be quivering with excitement.
The rough skin of the rapidly expanding monster always kept about two fists' distance from him. He could even see the fingerprint-like texture, spreading into a network of ridges and valleys.
Allen had anticipated the difficulties that could arise with this Conjunction of the Spheres:
The Wild Hunt suddenly appearing, monsters too strong, a flood of wraiths...
But he never expected that the first of the 81 challenges would be a colossal ghost-like creature pressing down on him like a mountain. Though he didn't know what kind of monster this was, he did know one thing: floating wraiths typically have no weight...
These random thoughts didn't affect the speed of his retreat.
In less than two seconds, Allen moved like a ghost, silently withdrawing to within five meters of the flickering bonfire. And it was here that the monster stopped expanding.
"Whoosh~"
The heat from the fire seared his back, and the Witcher quickly caught his breath. Then, skillfully retrieving a Blizzard potion from his pouch, he took a gulp and tossed the bottle aside.
Immediately after, to make the most of the Conjunction and the "nightfall" advantage granted by his every blink, he didn't assess the monster's attributes, didn't check if the creature was stunned, and didn't even wait for the Blizzard potion to fully take effect...
His right foot slammed into the ground, swinging Balmur.
Slash!
For Allen, this strike was a gamble.
Up to now, he had never used Balmur.
Neither against ghouls nor wraiths...
It always seemed like some instinct was subtly warning him that the great Sacred Sword Balmur wasn't meant for slashing through common riff-raff. Of course, that was just a feeling—it wasn't as if some sorcerer was whispering in his mind.
Allen was also accustomed to using Elsa, coating it with oils, so he never had the need to use Balmur. But a few seconds ago, the legendary sword Balmur had actually "requested" a fight.
Even though there was no time to coat it with specter oil, the Witcher had to take the risk. Steel-slicing, demon-slaying, armor-piercing, evil-banishing, fate-breaking...
This sacred sword, with five special properties.
"Swish!"
In an instant, to fully concentrate on delivering this slash, the Witcher's magic temporarily halted, pulling him out of the invisibility and silence granted by the nightfall.
A cold flash gleamed.
Balmur sliced through the air with a sharp crack, fiercely striking the rough skin of the unknown ghost-like monster.
To be safe, Allen had already prepared for the sword to be repelled by the creature's elementally fortified barrier. He was ready to use the recoil to spin and draw his Elsa, soaked in specter oil, for follow-up strikes.
By then, the Blizzard potion's effects would have fully kicked in.
He could execute such a high-difficulty maneuver. But he hadn't expected that when Balmur struck the monster's green skin, a brilliant white light would suddenly blaze through the darkness. Then, like a hot knife through butter, the blade easily cleaved through the elemental barrier, sinking deep into the creature.
And that wasn't the end of it.
"Boom!"
A loud explosion followed.
Where Balmur had cut, a head-sized cavity blasted open.
In that moment, even the normally emotionless Witcher, deep in his monster-hunting state, froze for a second. Then, seeing the numbers in his field of vision, his jaw dropped.
[Monster Hunt] Progress: 69%
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
278. White Light and Frost.
279. Please Make Way.
280. Settlement of the One-Eyed Wraith Extermination Rewards.
281. Ellander's Funeral.
282. A Commission of One Oren.