The Divine Hunter

Chapter 572: Idarran

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

A white bolt of electricity hurtled from beyond the walls, crashing down on the witcher. Goo and deluge flew into the air from the attack. Roy quickly cast Heliotrop with his left hand and held the Sign up high, covering himself with an elliptical black barrier. The lightning bolt slammed into the barrier and disappeared into thin air.

However, the witcher had no respite. The look on his face changed as hundreds of bolts came charging from the darkness like a deadly web. The bolts electrified him, and his hair stood on end. Right before the attack could land, Roy teleported backward along with his bolt. The web of lightning bolts that took up the space from floor to ceiling swarmed Roy’s earlier position, engulfing the corpses on the ground.

The corpses spasmed as if they were alive, their eyelids twitching. From afar, it looked like they were rolling their eyes, and sneers curled their lips. The scene looked like it came out of a horror movie. At the same time, the pool of blood on the ground boiled like scalding water, and the scent of burned flesh wafted across the air.

***

The web of electricity only died out a few moments later. Roy stared at the charred, smoking pieces of corpses on the ground, and he shuddered. His companions had killed off the creatures that attacked them and gathered around him. The mutants were only as dangerous as garkains. They had numbers on their side. The witchers’ equipment and consumables were abundant. Aside from some stamina and mana, they lost nothing.

“You were lucky, kid.” Kalkstein gazed at the dark tunnel ahead. For once, he looked serious. “Lightning storms are a lot more powerful than the useless traps we’ve seen so far. If I were caught by surprise, I’d die too, but the more dangerous the traps are, the closer we are to our goal. Since they know about our operation, we should just knock on the door and announce our arrival.” Kalkstein grinned with excitement, his eyes glinting. He then grabbed something out of thin air.

A beautiful alchemical product appeared in his palm. It was like a wolf spider enlarged by a few dozen times, but it had no fleshy texture. Instead, it glinted like metal. It had three rows of green eyes on its head. The metal spider’s eight eyes rolled around coldly. There wasn’t any emotion in them. Its jaws were moving, and it radiated faint chaos energy. It had eight slender legs covered in metal fur. The spider leapt and fell to the ground softly. It scuttled off and disappeared into the darkness right away.

The witchers collected their loot in the meantime, but a while later, commotion blasted in the dark tunnel ahead. Sounds of explosions, roaring flames, sloshing water, falling stones, and crashing walls roared through the air. Crimson lights, purple bolts of electricity, dust, and smoke filled the air. The sewers were shivering from the impact of the traps, but despite the violent attacks, the elven architecture stood strong, even after the erosion of time.

***

Fifteen minutes later, the commotion came to an end, and the metal spider came out of the smokescreen before the group. Its front legs were broken from the midsection, and small craters riddled its metallic shell. The critter looked hideous, its green eyes losing their luster.

“Poor thing. You did good.” Kalkstein held the spider in his hand and patted its back. The alchemist rubbed his goatee against the spider’s head like it was his pet, then he tucked the spider into his inventory space, cringing a little. “Alright, witchers. The traps are all activated. It’s safe inside now.”

Everyone gave him approving nods. One of their most brilliant ideas for this journey was to bring Kalkstein along. They had promised him a lot of things, but it was worth it. The witchers recast their magical barriers and went into the dark tunnel.

“Your spider is a work of art. Can I…” Lambert raised a thumbs up for Kalkstein and looked at him curiously, wondering where he tucked the spider into.

“Of course. I’m a fair businessman. Give me the coins, and I’ll make one for you.” Kalkstein stroked his goatee, a smile curling his lips. There was cunning in his eyes, as if he saw a customer he could make a lot of money from.

“How much are you charging?”

“See its broken legs? Take requests all day every day and save up for a year, and you’ll make enough to buy its legs. And it’s discounted too, because you’re a part of the brotherhood.”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

***

The tunnel’s air was filled with dust and smoke. Like the ruins of war, the ground was covered in debris and dust. The walls and floor were scorched, electrocuted, and frozen in some places. Besides the multitude of upgraded magical traps, there were also a lot of regular traps. The tunnel was only a hundred yards long, but there were more than twenty traps lying around. The group was almost worried as they passed through the passage.

“Moser structure. This is our school’s secret.” Serrit went down and observed a bear trap that was already snapped shut. He muttered, “Did Ivar make this trap?”

The Vipers had conflicted feelings about it, and reminiscence filled their eyes.

***

Moments later, their medallions started buzzing and struggling like sparrows trying to fly off into the air. At the end of the tunnel was a purple door. A cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere. It had a face white as a cadaver, its features dark and gloomy. The figure’s gaze pierced the mist and met the group of intruders. There was shock, mockery, and murder in that gaze.

Roy jolted. A bad memory filled his mind. This was Idarran, Alzur’s student and master of genetic modification. You don’t have to catch me yourself this time. I’ll send you to the afterlife.

A bolt hurtled through the air, but it crashed into an invisible wall halfway through. The bolt fell to the ground, and the gemstone marking shattered, but Roy had teleported ahead.

Idarran crossed his hands before his chest and made a dual crimson cross. The surge of mana coming from the cross cut space itself open, and the cross expanded into a square-shaped gash, though Idarran didn’t do this to destroy anything.

It was to summon something.

A pack of horned bears leapt out of the gash, roaring and swiping away at their enemy. Roy was in the air, and he sent an energy slash towards his enemies. The attack sliced the towering monsters open, and Roy walked the path created by the two halves of the monsters’ broken bodies. Quen deflected all the flesh and blood that was raining down on the witcher.

Idarran quickly split into a few clones and leapt into the door behind him. Roy teleported along with him, and everyone else followed.

Everything changed. The smoky, misty ruins before the door was gone, replaced by bright neon lights behind the door. Roy felt like he just came out of the squalid sewers and entered a beautiful greenhouse. The place was nearly thirty-three wide and sixteen-and-a-half-feet tall. No longer was Roy surrounded by refuse, sewage, excrement, and stone slabs. Colorful, fluorescent plants littered the place.

Roy saw morning glories, gourds, and plants that looked like corals, sea stars, and seahorses. There were trees the shape of pineapples. This place was home to bizarre plants, but they shone like fluorescent lamps, inviting the witcher to eat them.

The air was filled with strong scents. There was the sweetness of fruits, the bitterness of herbs, and a pungent durian smell. Geralt sneezed and held his breath right away.

He then looked up. Vines of different colors came slithering down from the ceiling. There was no wind around, yet they rustled anyway. The walls and ground were covered in a thick layer of bouncy membrane. It felt sticky and squelchy to the touch, and it had the temperature of a regular human.

The walls were swaying ever so gently, as if they were alive. It reminded them of the belly of some titanic monster, and those bizarre plants were fungi that took root in the monster’s body.

Roy hesitantly took a few steps ahead. Under pressure, the fluorescent plants underneath Roy shot out a cloud of spores, and they fluttered in the air like fireflies. They shone red on his face and turned the space around into an almost dreamlike place.

“Don’t take one step further, people. Something’s off.” Roy frowned. His Elder Blood was starting to scorch and boil all of a sudden. Inexplicably, a vague scene appeared before his eyes. He saw four towering silhouettes standing with their backs turned to him. They were standing on the edge of a cliff. One step ahead, and they’d fall into an endless abyss. Over them was a staircase leading straight to the cloudy heavens above. At the end of the staircase, Roy could make out a colorful galaxy and a crimson, squirming octopus. What does this hallucination mean?

Something clenched Roy’s heart. It wasn’t just danger. This bizarre world had something extreme, complicated, and indescribable hidden in its depths. The young witcher didn’t dare step into that domain. Behind them, the door that connected this space to the ruins outside had closed up. Aiden and Coen were unleashing Signs and weapons at it, but aside from leaving scorch marks and slashes, there was little effect.

Fortunately, everyone’s mana could still run well. They could teleport away if needed.

“Calm down, people. You don’t have to hold your breaths. These plants are harmless. Not poisonous.” Kalkstein tucked away a silver jellyfish that was hanging in the air. He quickly put on a pair of white leather gloves and pulled out a fluorescent mistletoe. The branches and fruits were luminescent, their colors ever-changing. Sometimes they were red, sometimes they were black. Sometimes they were like fiery clouds of the dawn.

“I’m sure this isn’t any plant that exists in our world. Its effects are unknown, but if we can research it, we will be able to develop a lot of new potions. A hundred types at least. It’s a lot better than the herbs Roy brought from Skyrim.”

“So you’re saying Idarran and the grandmasters have gone to different worlds before?” Serrit looked solemn.

“Without a doubt.”

“You have a good eye.” A dark, venomous voice spoke. The voice felt close, as if it were coming from around the group, but it also felt far, as if it spoke from the heavens above. “If you’d arrived a few months later, I’d have welcomed you with open arms and talked about research of plants from different worlds, but alas, you came at the wrong time.”

The voice had shock and complaint in it. “Ivar’s a fool. He insisted on exiling him. We should’ve killed him, and now look at what happened.”

A pause later, the voice praised, “You aren’t the controller of the shard for nothing, Roy. You passed through the world’s barrier and came back safely. I do not know how you managed it, but you made one major mistake. You should’ve gone into hiding after you escaped alive, but you had to come into my turf.”

The voice spoke with condescension. “You know, there are countless choices available to men. Half of them bring luck, but you just had to make the worst possible choice at the wrong place and the wrong time. You have buried all possibilities for a better future. And now your fate is doomed to fall into darkness and destruction. What fools. Allow me to teach you a lesson.”

The Vipers ignored the voice’s insults. The mention of Ivar excited them, and they couldn’t hold back.

Auckes roared at the darkness ahead, “Where’s Ivar Evil-Eye? Why is a grandmaster like him hiding in the shadows? Summon him! We want to talk!”

“You’ve trespassed into the place I spent countless hours working on and ruined more than a few dozen of my experimental subjects. They might be half-finished, but my heart bleeds nonetheless. You think you deserve a fair negotiation? No.” The voice paused for a moment. “And they cannot make it anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Letho roared, the look on his face changing.

The voice ignored them. A few thoughts were running through Roy’s head. He was reminded of the clues Triss found. The grandmasters celebrated at Blue Whale for the imminent success of their goal, and now only Idarran was here to welcome them. Could it be that the grandmasters and Alzur can’t do anything else because they’re at a critical point? And they have another shard, probably. That’s why Idarran isn’t using the red light on us.

“You must’ve had enough of killing monsters. Have something else for a change,” Idarran mocked.

Roy pulled a trigger, and a bolt flew ahead, but it didn’t hit anything. It melted away after leaving a little ripple behind, and then gusts of icy winds blew across the battlefield.

A great sense of danger hit Roy. He crouched and held his left hand up, covering himself and his comrades in Heliotrop. Coral and Kalkstein crossed their arms, casting their spells. A magical storm howled around them. The witchers held up their swords, ready to battle.

However, there were no mutants at all. Silence fell upon them. Only a fluorescent plant was swaying, as if it were shaking its head and sighing at the group.

What’s that supposed to mean?

And then, all of a sudden, the eldest Wolf grunted. He clutched his neck and fell back to the ground, his weapon falling away. Vesemir curled up like a cooked shrimp. His face was red, his head was drenched in sweat, and his wrinkles curled up like wriggling worms. The Wolf let out gurgles.

“Vesemir!” Geralt held Vesemir up and quickly checked him. “What’s the matter?”

Bloody rivulets of sweat started covering Vesemir’s face. His face was contorted in agony, and his eyes bulged.

“You can’t die, mate. What are we supposed to tell Mignole if something happens to you?” Eskel quickly cast Axii at Vesemir to alleviate his pain, but it was of little use.

“Say something, people! What’s wrong with him?”

Vesemir’s condition was worsening at a blistering rate. Ten seconds later, his limbs were starting to spasm. He held Geralt’s arm tightly, his nails biting into the White Wolf’s flesh. Coral touched his forehead. It was scalding, then she pulled back his bloated eyelids.

“It’s not just fever and convulsions. There’s internal bleeding.”

Lambert whipped out a health potion and shoved it down Vesemir’s throat, but the old Wolf clamped his mouth shut. Most of the health potion trickled down to the ground. It didn’t do anything to heal him.

Vesemir was getting worse by the second. Rivulets of blood were oozing out of his skin. There was not an ounce of his usual humor or wit left on his face. There was only pain and seizures.

Geralt took out the higher vampire decoction that was supposed to be reserved for emergencies only. Letho was holding an acorn in his hand.

“It’s useless, you two.” Kalkstein shook his head. “That’ll only give him five more minutes. We have to get to the root.”

“Idarran, you cowardly bastard! You corpse-desecrating pervert! Come down here and fight!” the impulsive Lambert roared into the darkness.

“Oh, you lost your temper just like that? But you were always patient with the people’s requests,” said the voice merrily.

Roy cast Observe on Vesemir.

‘Vesemir

Age: 307 years old

HP: 180/250 (Possessed, bleeding, asphyxiated, feverish…)’

***

Hm? He’s possessed? “I know a way out. Let him go. Let me do this.” Roy went down and held Vesemir’s shoulder. Fear. His eyes went red, and then a familiar scene played out once more.

Countless crimson tentacles came darting out of the voice, flailing and lashing out at Vesemir’s back.

Vesemir froze, his pain and soul freezing up. At the same time, a vague human silhouette surrounded by black smoke was forced out of Vesemir’s body. It was gaunt, its cheeks sunken, and it was in nothing but tatters.

The soul was like an evil spirit. The moment it showed up, the tentacles wrapped it up and took it away. Into a bloody cocoon the spirit was turned. The tentacles held it up in the air, far away from Vesemir. The only thing revealed was the soul’s face. It had short, golden hair, a gaunt, contorted face, and eyes that had a gaze as icy as the winter wind. There was pain in those eyes.

Roy’s heart skipped a beat. A familiar feeling filled his heart. He had seen this spirit before.