"So, what I always thought was 'good luck' was actually prosperity? Or perhaps harvest?"
The young woman's voice seemed to still echo in his ears as the Witcher, newly awakened from his "Divine Dreamwalking" awkwardly scratched his hand.
Mistaking a god's divine domain is about as bad as getting their name wrong when asking for a favor. No wonder even Melitele, in her crone form, laughed at him. Thankfully, she's a benevolent goddess—kind in all her forms, whether maiden, mother, or crone. Otherwise, Allen's actions might've earned him a lightning strike as punishment.
"Yes, indeed, the goddess Melitele is a rare and gentle deity," thought the Witcher.
Otherwise...
How else could she have said, and even demonstrated through her temple teachings, that "humanity does not need gods"?
Such a notion would be outright blasphemous in any world, past or present, even in reality.
Therefore, even Allen, who was taught to question gods deeply and systematically, didn't doubt Melitele's hands-off approach to humanity's development.
"A god who disowns her own divinity—this is practically betrayal of her own class."
Allen chuckled softly.
But then he recalled Melitele's words—the cruel realities that had happened, were happening, and were yet to come.
The Witcher's smile faded.
"There's no rest at all..." he sighed.
The threat of Kaer Morhen's defensive annihilation by the Kaedwen king, Henselt, had just been dealt with. Yet there were still many sorcerers and nobles harboring ill will toward the School of the Wolf.
Then, because of the Conjunction of the Spheres during Henselt's downfall, the Wild Hunt—known for invading other worlds—was drawn back.
Allen and the School of the Wolf stood no chance against the Aen Elle elves.
If they were ever found at the ancient sea fortress, the school's destruction would be imminent. The sorcerers and nobles wouldn't even need to incite the mob to attack Kaer Morhen.
And now...
Just as they'd made some progress with the Wild Hunt, securing an alliance with Ellander—no, with Duke Mason, a royal of Temeria, practically half the kingdom was behind them...
Suddenly, the White Frost, a disaster so powerful that not even the gods could resist it, appeared.
The choices Melitele offered him, the weights on each side of the scales…
Just thinking about them was suffocating.
"Can't we handle them one at a time?" he gritted his teeth. "Stories are supposed to start with minor henchmen, then the mini-boss, and finally the big boss, right?"
"Couldn't I first eliminate Kaedwen's threat to the school, then face a few Wild Hunt skirmishes, and only after that take on the White Frost as the ultimate boss...?"
"Why do all the enemies and all the pressure have to come crashing down at once?"
---------------------
"Ugh~"
After venting his frustrations, the Witcher took a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the dark clouds within his heart. Complaining to the hollow of a tree while alone did offer some relief.
"Reality isn't a crafted story."
"I can only use every advantage I have, coaxing my enemies into an orderly queue..."
"First come, first served. Observe proper etiquette."
"And, most importantly, strengthen myself however I can, as fast as I can."
With that thought, the Witcher activated his Witcher Journal.
Nine treasure chests from the Cyclopean wraiths lay quietly in his inventory, awaiting his attention. Thinking of the golden light that merged into his body as he left the divine realm, Allen took a deep breath.
"Praise be to the Mother of All, goddess of prosperity, harvest, and childbirth, eternal guardian of maiden, mother, and crone..."
[Ding! Cyclopean wraith Chest * 9 opened]
A blinding golden light burst forth from the chests as soon as the system notification sounded. And then came an endless stream of golden light.
Allen felt as if his eyes were dazzled.
Gold, gold, gold, gold, gold, gold, gold, purple, gold.
Eight golds, one purple!!!
The immense haul immediately lifted his spirits.
Once all nine chests shone with gold and purple light, the Witcher held his breath. Eight gold-quality chests and one purple—there should be nine cinematic animations.
"I wonder if I'll finally see who the Cyclops Giant's true enemy is?"
However, as he eagerly stared at the nine chests, something unexpected happened.
[Ding! Requirements met for Gold/Gold grade chests, quantity requirement 8/7, skill set requirement fulfilled. Fuse chests?]
Hmm?
The Witcher was stunned.
He rubbed his eyes, rereading the sudden red message several times over.
"Chest fusion?"
"The Witcher Journal has this feature?"
Allen was astonished.
He had always thought gold-quality chests were the highest tier and never considered that chest fusion might be possible.
But to be honest...
The Witcher read the system message again.
Opening a gold-quality chest was already a feat.
Even though he would invoke Melitele, the goddess of prosperity and harvest, in prayer before each chest opening, he would still end up without a gold chest in four or five out of ten tries.
Not to mention opening seven gold-quality chests at once.
If not for the blessing from Melitele as he left the divine realm, it might have taken ages to collect a hundred chests, then open them all at once. Otherwise, with his usual habit of opening chests in small batches to test probabilities, it's hard to say if he'd ever discover this feature without Melitele's help...
"And a set of skills..."
The Witcher thought of the skill he unlocked last time, "Battle Roar: Berserk."
"Maybe only infamous monsters like the Cyclopean wraiths can meet these conditions."
With that thought, the Witcher sincerely offered his gratitude again in his heart: "Praise be to the Mother of All, goddess of prosperity, harvest, and childbirth, eternal guardian of maiden, mother, and crone..."
As for whether to fuse them or not?
Is that even a question?
With such harsh requirements and ridiculously low odds, it almost seemed like a feature meant to stay hidden. Only a fool would refuse it.
The Witcher eagerly willed the fusion to begin.
In the next instant…
The chests, shining gold, began to shake and pulse. They trembled, drawn together like magnets, reluctantly merging into the center.
The purple chest was pushed to the periphery, while even the eighth gold chest trailed slightly behind but still moved toward the center.
Allen sensed that he could intervene, halt the fusion, or even exclude the eighth chest from the process. But after a moment's thought, he decided to let the fusion proceed untouched.
Eight beams of golden light drew closer and closer until, finally, they almost overlapped.
At the centre of this radiant light, as if unable to bear a powerful force, it suddenly collapsed into a black hole. The eight golden chests halted abruptly for a brief moment.
In an instant, they were sucked into the black hole.
Allen's perspective immediately plunged into darkness.
"Huh?"
Two or three seconds passed, yet there was no movement from the black hole, as if his chests had been banished to another world entirely. This left the witcher growing increasingly anxious.
He even began to recall if there was anything in the system prompt that mentioned a "chance of destruction"...
But upon thinking it over, even if it didn't explicitly mention a "chance of destruction," that didn't mean there wasn't one.
After all, Witcher's Journal didn't always provide prompts for everything—like earlier, forcing its way into a divine realm without warning. Could that really be described as merely dangerous?
"Don't do this to me!" Allen clenched his fists, not daring to blink.
Eight golden chests gained or eight golden chests lost—this kind of gain and loss would be a significant blow to the witcher's power.
Luckily.
Just as Allen was beginning to worry...
The black hole changed!
Silently, a faint red light began to shine from within the black hole. Then, within a second. The faint red turned into a bloody, piercing brightness. Looking at this eerie red light, the witcher could almost smell a faint hint of rust.
This phenomenon…
A sense of anticipation surged within him!
"Hiss—"
In the stillness, it was as if a giant wielding a colossal chain was dragging it, producing a violent grinding sound.
"Hiss—"
The red light grew more intense, transforming the entire black hole into a blood-red vortex. The scent of blood thickened. It made the once-holy sanctuary feel like a massacre site.
The next moment.
"Boom—"
With a tremendous roar, a deep crimson light shot forth at an incredible speed. Before the witcher could clearly see what was within that light.
"Roar!"
A powerful aura accompanied by an enraged roar emanated from the ominous blood-red black hole. It felt like some colossal beast was bellowing and raging.
"What is that—"
The witcher's mind went blank under the pressure of this intense presence. His entire body froze, like a startled bird.
A long time passed.
When the black hole finally closed hastily amidst the roaring, and the red light gradually dimmed, Allen regained his senses.
"What...what the heck was that?"
The faint yet tangible pressure, the soul-stirring roar, and the overwhelming scent of blood, as if he were submerged in a blood sea...
That was definitely not a special effect, nor was it an animation to show the chest's quality changing from gold to red.
The witcher swallowed nervously.
But then, considering that Witcher's Journal might have snatched something from that unimaginable creature, he couldn't help but feel extremely curious about the thing within the red light. However, at this moment, his surroundings went completely dark.
"The Path of the Beast's Roar is a gift from the great Shagadazar," an ancient voice sounded from within the darkness. "He taught us how to wield the strength of the great beasts in our 'human' bodies…"
Huh?
The witcher blinked.
When he opened his eyes again.
He was surrounded by a circle of "people," or rather, young cyclopean serpentine giants.
After a brief moment of confusion. Allen realized he must be in some cutscene triggered by that red-quality light, so he quickly focused, glancing around.
Massive, pale bones supported an even larger, grayish-brown hide.
An overwhelming yet subtle ancient pressure emanated from it.
Along with the faint scent of dust mixed with the foul stench of freshly skinned hide. It was all suffocating, hair-raising. The cyclopean serpent giants were already enormous, but this tent-like dwelling could hold up to a thousand of them.
And a few hundred younger cyclopean giants, each about one-quarter the size of an adult, were scattered around Allen.
"Praise Shagadazar, god of roars, hunting, and taming…"
Suddenly, over a thousand cyclopean serpent giants began chanting in reverence, and after a brief hesitation, the witcher joined in. The smell, the sounds, the visuals, the pressure, and even the faintly moving air stirring the fur on his skin…
The scene was so real.
The roar from the black hole had left Allen's mind blank; he didn't dare assume any of this was merely part of a cutscene.
"Praise Shagadazar, roars, hunting…" he shouted, mimicking the young cyclopean serpent giants around him.
Wait!
The witcher looked up abruptly.
I can actually understand what the cyclopean giants are saying!
"Good!" The old voice continued with a gentle tone. "Revere Shagadazar, for he has given us the way of the beast's roar, the primal strength to coexist with the world…"
Allen followed the sound with his gaze.
An enormous but aged cyclopean serpent giant stood before the massive beast bones. Its frame was gaunt, and its large, scale-like armor was no longer glossy. Instead, it was a dull gray, with numerous cracks, and in some places, entire sections were missing, exposing raw flesh beneath.
But.
The giant's single massive eye, although cloudy, still held a glimmer of wisdom. And the gaze it cast upon the young cyclopean serpent giants was filled with kindness and warmth.
"Is this the wise elder or priest of the cyclopean serpent giant tribe?" The witcher wondered.
"Gamentia," the ancient cyclopean serpent giant called to what seemed to be a middle-aged cyclopean giant, "take the tribe's hope outside for practice…"
"Yes, Chief!" Gamentia respectfully placed a hand on his chest, then bellowed toward Allen and the others, "Little ones, let's go practice outside!"
"Boom, boom, boom—"
The ground shook violently.
Three or four adult cyclopean serpent giants led one young giant each out of the tent.
"Whoa!" Seeing this, Allen couldn't help but marvel to himself, "Three teachers for one student? The cyclopean serpent giant tribe has such a powerful teaching force?"
After marveling, he waited where he was. But after a while, as the cyclopean serpent giant youngsters around him were all led out of the bone-hide tent, no one came to lead him out.
"Could these be illusions? Just cutscenes? Am I overthinking?"
The ground's vibrations gradually faded.
Allen looked around, hesitated for a moment, and then stepped forward to follow.
After all, he had traded eight golden chests for this, so even if it were just a cutscene, he wouldn't waste a single second.
At least he could see what was outside this towering tent...
Why would the young cyclopean giants need three or four teachers to study this Path of the Beast's Roar...
"Boom, boom, boom—"
The light outside the tent grew closer.
Just as he was beginning to make out a faint greenish shadow of the outside, an ancient voice suddenly sounded from behind him: "Italiano, where are you going?"
...........
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
294. Who Am I?
295. Time to Go Home.
296. Surprise.
297. The Cambridge Ceremony.
298. Kaer Morhen Is Missing?