Clang!
Relying on countless repetitions of muscle memory, the witcher gripped the hilt of his sword, drew it from its sheath, and leapt off the black dragon's dark back. Twisting in midair—he slashed!
A silver arc of sword light tore through the air, tracing a perfect half-circle—only to suddenly stop, completely still and silent.
A skeleton without a trace of flesh stood upon the black dragon's spine, two pale finger bones pinching the silver sword's blade.
Ash-grey ghostfire flickered in its eye sockets. Its bony face revealed no expression, yet Allen felt a chill run down his spine, as though plunged into an ice cave.
Even if that had been only an instinctive counterattack, it shouldn't have been blocked so easily.
Just two bare finger bones—able to stop his longsword?
He wasn't some newly initiated witcher apprentice, but a witcher master whose five attributes had all reached their limits.
Yet Eredin Bréacc Glas made him feel like a seven- or eight-year-old child who had never learned how to hold a sword.
Even so, despite the shock to his spirit, Allen did not give up resistance. His left hand instantly released the hilt, middle finger curling as he thrust his palm forward.
Aard Sign.
Invisible psychic force burst forth from his palm, warping the air—but like waves breaking upon a rock, it failed to disrupt even the slightest motion of Eredin Bréacc Glas.
Those smooth, bone-white feet, whose contact surface was narrow as needles, seemed glued to the dragon's back—utterly immovable.
"Not a bad weapon, Child of the Elder Blood!"
The bone fire in the skeleton's eye sockets flared twice. Two bony fingers pinched the silver blade, slowly but firmly pushing its tip away from the heart of the skeletal chest.
The witcher instinctively resisted—But the immense force transmitted through Elsa's sword compelled him to yield, as powerless as a mortal trying to hold back an avalanche or a tidal wave.
"Do not be so agitated, Child of the Elder Blood!"
Eredin Bréacc Glas's mental waves enveloped the witcher's mind, filled with a dominating aggression.
The divine wall guarding Allen's consciousness groaned and creaked within his head.
The King of the Wild Hunt hadn't even made an overt attack—yet already the mental barrier was cracking, nearly at its limit.
"You come from us! You belong to us! Join our ranks—join our Hunt! Feel the ecstasy of the chase!"
"We shall ride, galloping toward the world's end—toward eternity—toward the very end of existence!"
As the cracks in his mental wall widened, Eredin Bréacc Glas's spiritual waves became disturbingly intimate.
A deep, hoarse voice echoed in his ears—sometimes turning into Aristo's, sometimes into Danthe's, sometimes into Vesemir's or Sol's.
In that haze—
The image of Eredin Bréacc Glas's skeleton blurred, becoming gentler, merging with those familiar voices, lulling him into drowsy confusion.
Aristo stroked his heavy beard, gruffly urging the witcher to trust him.
Danthe said he had, in repayment of a favor, found an ancient tome describing the White Frost—that perhaps there was still hope to save the world from the inevitable apocalypse.
Vesemir looked as remorseful as ever, sighing, "I'm your elder—can't you trust me a little more?"
Sol, always calm and unreadable, appeared out of nowhere, telling him that both the Witchers of the Wolf School and the witcher masters had agreed that Allen would take over as their leader.
-----------------------------------
Eredin Bréacc Glas released his grip on Elsa's blade.
He slowly approached, raising his hand, delicately peeling away the illusion that disguised the mirage pearl, then gently reached toward the "Night Shade" that Francesca Findabair had gifted, which shrouded the witcher's face…
The wolf medallion buzzed in warning immediately, but Eredin Bréacc Glas silenced its vibration with a single gesture.
'A mind-control spell…' Allen realized it at once.
After failing to use the Warlord Armor's set ability to transport him to Tir ná Lia, Eredin Bréacc Glas was now attempting to control him with mind manipulation magic.
And clearly, Eredin Bréacc Glas had great confidence in his spell.
No—more accurately, he didn't care. He didn't care whether the witcher had mental defenses, nor did he care if the witcher tried to resist.
In fact…
Eredin Bréacc Glas had probably already seen through his disguise—just like a well-fed cat toying with a caught mouse, not killing it immediately but cruelly playing with it, waiting until the last moment when his prey thought it could escape—then elegantly crushing all hope, driving it into utter despair.
The man who had poisoned his own king, who had cursed his friend and companion Avallac'h—Eredin Bréacc Glas—was that kind of vile being.
But Allen merely watched everything unfold, not resisting rashly.
Because blind resistance would be useless—it would only make him lose his final chance.
He didn't care whether Eredin Bréacc Glas noticed his act; he feigned being entranced, his eyes dazed, allowing Eredin's pale finger bones to approach, slowly and irresistibly.
Meanwhile, his mind frantically raced through every skill and resource he had mastered…
Eredin Bréacc Glas was powerful—yet not to the point of hopelessness. Even Ciri had escaped the Wild Hunt's pursuit several times with nothing but her horse, Kelpie.
There was no reason someone many times stronger than Ciri could only wait for death.
"There must be a way! There has to be a way!"
"Alghoul decoction, Blizzard, Thunderbolt, Maribor Forest… no, none of these—no chance to drink potions…"
"Oils are out, bombs too—no… bombs might work, yes, bombs could! But only one chance—Northern Wind (freezes enemies; attacking frozen targets causes extra damage) or Dimeritium Bomb (releases a mist of Dimeritium fragments, blocking magic and monster abilities)…?"
"Blind Dust won't work! Flash won't work either!"
"Monster Hunt require time and proper openings to progress—it's hard to reach a kill threshold, but other skills aren't affected…"
"There's also the Beast Roar path—Berserk! Yes, I must use berserk mode…"
"But it's not enough! None of this is enough!"
"How did Ciri manage to escape the Wild Hunt again and again?"
"Damn it! Ciri has Elder Blood! With unicorns guiding her, she can freely travel through time and space!"
"The past, the future, reality, other worlds…"
"Eredin could keep up with Ciri—that only shows how powerful the King of the Wild Hunt truly is…"
"And I can only blink… each blink is just a few dozen meters. Eredin even commands a similar teleportation—how am I supposed to play this?"
His thoughts surged like a storm across his consciousness. Through the cracks in his mental wall, his awareness met the crimson, fog-like psychic force of Eredin Bréacc Glas, their powers facing each other across the barrier.
The pale finger bones drew ever closer to his nose, the heavy stench of scorched metal and rust flooding his senses.
The witcher's heartbeat skipped—his chest pounded violently, the thundering in his ears echoing like stormclaps.
"Wait—!"
"Eredin followed Ciri closely…"
A flash of insight struck the witcher—he had caught something crucial.
Yes—!
It was Eredin Bréacc Glas's true body that followed Ciri. But this skeleton before him was only a projection—Eredin's spirit possessing the body of the Wild Hunt warrior Renakins across vast distances.
Could Eredin Bréacc Glas's control over Renakins really be that stable, spanning such distance?
Driving Eredin completely out of Renakins's corpse would indeed be difficult—but that didn't mean it was impossible.
Allen focused his will.
[Ding! Hunting Mission: Alghoul II (Kill Alghouls 20/20), pending completion!]
"Let's gamble!" Allen gritted his teeth hard.
[Ding! Conjunction of the Spheres 'Ghoul' Phase I — choose fusion location! (If no host selected, system will auto-locate in 30 seconds.)]
As the mechanical voice echoed, Allen's vision filled with a fresh green door—he immediately fixed that doorway upon Eredin Bréacc Glas's body.
At that very moment, as Eredin Bréacc Glas murmured softly, the blue-gray soul fire flickering in his eye sockets, his pale finger bones lightly touched the black silk of the "Night Shade."
In that instant, it was as if he had triggered some kind of switch—
A brilliant green light flashed, and Eredin Bréacc Glas's finger bones suddenly grasped at empty air.
He looked up calmly—Allen was already standing upon the black dragon's head.
Eredin Bréacc Glas shrugged lightly and shook his head. "Useless resistance. I told you, Child of the Elder Blood, you are—"
The King of the Wild Hunt's voice cut off abruptly. The blue-gray ghostly fire in his skull, which not even the fiercest winds could make waver, began to tremble violently.
No—!
It wasn't just trembling!
Allen even saw, for an instant, that the ghostly fire in Renakins's skull went completely dark for a split second.
"It worked!" Allen's eyes lit up at once.
Yes—of course the hundreds of monsters summoned through Conjunction of the Spheres had been useless against Renakins's Wild Hunt army.
But across such vast distance, even Eredin Bréacc Glas, as powerful as he was, had not arrived in person. He had only projected his consciousness. How could that projection remain unaffected by the spatial tides triggered by Conjunction of the Spheres?
[Warning! Warning! Warning!]
[Detected Conjunction of the Spheres fluctuation! Detected Conjunction of the Spheres fluctuation!]
Scarlet system alerts flashed before his eyes.
Allen didn't wait for the Conjunction of the Spheres to fully manifest. Taking advantage of Eredin Bréacc Glas's brief disorientation, he immediately pulled a potion vial from his storage space and hurled it toward him.
A Dimeritium Bomb!
At the same time, his will moved—
[Monster Hunt]!
"Boom~"
The glass shattered midair. The dark green liquid within instantly expanded into a thick emerald mist, engulfing Eredin Bréacc Glas.
[Monster Hunt progress: 10%]
"Huh?! Ten percent!"
The Dimeritium Bomb's effect was far more powerful than he had imagined.
The lingering fear in Allen's chest vanished. Seeing his plan working even better than expected, he felt a flicker of dangerous excitement.
Maybe… he could aim higher.
For example, use [Monster Hunt] to completely trap this fragment of Eredin Bréacc Glas's "soul," just like he had once done to the evil god during the summoning ritual…
Once the idea took form, Allen acted instantly. His mind moved again, summoning several more Dimeritium Bombs, and without hesitation, hurled them all at Eredin Bréacc Glas.
At the same time, the witcher's lips parted slightly.
The golden energy within his blood began to shimmer, rising from his veins and merging with the four-colored magical currents coursing through his body.
"Yir…"
Heaven and earth resonated. A powerful aura burst forth from the witcher, surging like a storm.
The pressure snapped Eredin Bréacc Glas out of his stupor.
Snarling in fury, he charged out of the thick green mist lingering from the Dimeritium Bombs—but whether it was the spatial tide caused by Conjunction of the Spheres, or the suppressive effect of the Dimeritium itself, or both combined, his movements were distorted and stiff.
His steps faltered like a puppet on strings—jerky, uneven.
Even maintaining balance on the black dragon's back seemed to take all his strength.
And with each additional explosion, the expanding clouds of Dimeritium dust only deepened his sluggishness.
[Monster Hunt progress: 16%]
[Monster Hunt progress: 19%]
[Monster Hunt progress: 20%]
The concentration of Dimeritium particles had reached its limit—further bombs yielded diminishing progress.
"Child of the Elder Blood! How dare you! How dare you—!"
Eredin Bréacc Glas's psychic waves erupted in fury beyond reason.
But that burning fury was abruptly interrupted in the next instant.
"…ulr…"
Another strange roar echoed.
Savage and wild.
At the same moment, the overwhelming pressure suddenly vanished.
A colossal monster covered in golden fur appeared before Eredin Bréacc Glas, causing the King of the Wild Hunt—already struggling against the dust of dimeritium and the intensifying spatial tides—to falter instinctively for a moment.
When he came back to his senses, the weak prey was actually charging toward him.
And—
He, commander of the Red Riders, lord of the Alder Folk, the master of the Wild Hunt, in that pair of beastly eyes clearer and bluer than the waters of the Tir ná Lia river, felt…
Fear.
Fear—such a foreign emotion.
Why was he feeling such a powerful sense of threat from a mere lesser being?
It was as if Death itself had gripped his heart.
The instinct born from millennia of conquest across worlds made the enraged Eredin Bréacc Glas regain his clarity at once. He halted, even stumbling back a few steps.
Allen was stunned at the sight.
Before he could react further, Eredin Bréacc Glas seemed to calm down completely. He gave up resisting the violent spatial tides and the thick green mist of the dimeritium bombs, steadied himself on the black spines along the dragon's back, and stared at Allen with the flickering ashen-blue flames in his eye sockets.
But for some reason, this seemingly unthreatening King of the Wild Hunt made Allen's scalp prickle, his instincts screaming warnings.
What is he trying to do?!
"Child… of the Elder Blood… it seems I… underestimated you…"
Eredin Bréacc Glas's voice broke in and out, like a faulty signal: "But… next… time…"
He paused, then his voice suddenly returned to normal: "Soon, we shall meet again. And then, you will accept the invitation from Tir ná Lia, from the Alder Folk, from the blood that lies deep within your veins…"
"Rebellious child of Chaos! You will forever belong to us!"
As he finished speaking, Eredin Bréacc Glas fixed his ashen-blue flame-eyes on Allen, as though burning the image of him into his memory.
Meanwhile, the unease that had been building in Allen's heart grew heavier, pressing down on him like thunderclouds rolling across a vast summer plain where he stood alone.
"What are you going to do?!"
The blue-gray flames in Eredin's sockets flickered, and a wild, terrifying laugh burst forth: "A gift… a gift that will make you remember this day forever…"
"Live well, child of the Elder Blood!"
"I look forward to our next meeting—if…"
"You can survive until then."
In an instant, the pale skeleton disintegrated.
A blinding white flash illuminated the heavens and the earth, dispelling the black sun and engulfing the child of the Elder Blood—the witcher—who was desperately controlling the black dragon to flee.
Ding!
A cold system notification chimed softly.
No one paid it any attention.
......
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