The Witcher: Lord of the Empire

As they continued through the cave, a similar clearing quickly appeared in front of the group, and in the clearing was a… beautiful figure.

Her skin was of a whiteness that contrasted with the dark complexion characteristic of the women of Skellige. Drops of crystalline water decorated her body, and under the dim light of the interior of the cave, her appearance seemed even more delicate. Her long, golden hair, slightly damp, fell in soft waves, clinging to her neck and accentuating her sensuality.

The most striking thing, however, was her outfit, or rather, her almost total lack of it, leaving her skin exposed, showing her curves under the beam of light that descended from above and under the astonished gazes of the group.

Drops of water fell slowly from her hair, sliding down her skin before getting lost among the scales that covered her waist down.

She was a siren.

Suddenly, a sound began to echo in everyone's ears.

It wasn't a chant but rather a soft echo, like the whisper of a whale, empty and melodic, enough to make anyone let their guard down.

"Get back!" Kolgrim exclaimed, spreading his arms as if protecting his companions. His expression implied that he had no choice but to be the vanguard and sacrifice himself for the group.

After applying a Quen Sign, Kolgrim held his silver sword, with the handle pointing forward and the blade hidden behind his body. Slowly, he began to approach the siren.

Like a snake watching its prey, Kolgrim analyzed every detail of the creature with a mixture of rigor and insatiable fascination.

"Hmm… her upper body is identical to a woman's… no, that's not entirely true. Actually, she's too perfect, as if she had been sculpted." He muttered to himself, not looking away.

"As for the bottom part… it doesn't look like a fish tail, but rather something similar to a snake's tail with fins… interesting…"

Kolgrim's amber eyes glowed ever brighter, while his expression grew even more focused.

For her part, the siren, who was being closely analyzed, tilted her head with an innocent and curious gesture, as if trying to understand the words and actions of the man in front of her.

Suddenly, she changed her semi-reclining posture to a sitting position, leaning slowly towards Kolgrim. Her expressionless face was like porcelain, but her eyes, as pure as a crystal-clear lake, radiated an innocence untouched by the world. However, her movement had a hypnotic effect: her hair, her breasts and the drops that covered her seemed to ripple like the surface of water disturbed by the wind.

"She's amazing... cough! Even the actions are so anthropomorphic, have they specifically observed and learned the postures of humans? Or is it an instinctive reaction?"

"But looking at her... why do her actions seem so familiar? It's a bit like..."

Kolgrim's highly 'academic' internal dialogue failed to reach a conclusion as the siren suddenly transformed into a black shadow that lunged towards him.

The change was abrupt. To the human eye, her speed was impossible to follow. Her apparent previous inclination was not curiosity, but preparation for an ambush.

Before Kolgrim's eyes, the mermaid's lips parted in a terrifying snarl, revealing thin, needle-sharp teeth. The skin on her face and torso began to ripple, violet-blue scales emerging; her tail, now dark and muscular, lashed out violently, releasing sharp, hand-sized bony spines.

From the back of her tail, fins resembling the membranous wings of a bat unfurled, casting a huge, grotesque shadow over the group.

"Hiss!!"

The previous melodic chant transformed into a shrill scream, turning the ethereal dream scene into a monstrous nightmare.

A lone sailor, having endured the initial temptation, would have let his guard down completely. Even a man of steadfast heart would have been paralyzed by the unexpected turn of events.

Fortunately, although Kolgrim got a little carried away, he never truly let his guard down.

Kolgrim relied on his agility to spin lightly, dodging the attack, then swung the silver sword as if it were a great dagger.

The blade traced a brilliant arc. Blood instantly gushed forth as the siren's scaled back was slashed open.

The siren let out a piercing scream. Her flesh, exposed to the air, began to bubble as if it had been doused with acid. Black and purple lines spread rapidly from the wound.

Kolgrim took a few steps back, shaking the sword soaked in the special oil. He calmly watched the siren writhe.

Kolgrim sighed. "Suddenly I have no interest in studying her anymore..."

However, in a last desperate act, the siren dug her claws into the ground, which returned to a human appearance. When she looked up, her face, once covered in scales, regained its smooth, youthful skin.

Her eyes, now filled with tears, exuded a pitiful purity. A pitiful sound came from her lips.

Kolgrim raised an eyebrow. "So they also know how to beg for mercy? This confirms what I suspected: not only are they intelligent, but they have a remarkable level of cunning…" He murmured, once again fascinated.

...

Lann narrowed his eyes.

He looked up and stared thoughtfully at the cracks and gaps in the cave ceiling. The places where sunlight filtered through were momentarily covered by a fleeting shadow.

He turned his head to Kolgrim, who was watching eagerly, and said: "I don't think she's begging for mercy."

...

"Ssss-kraaaa!"

In the next instant, eight serpentine figures emerged through the gaps in the rock walls. As they suddenly spread their wings, they let out a deafening shriek as they clung to the walls, as if responding to the suffering of their dying comrade below, or trying to intimidate the witchers, while radiating an intense bloodlust.

The witchers simultaneously raised their crossbows, aiming at the sirens flying above them.

Lann raised his left hand towards the sirens.

"Let's save the crossbow bolts, loading them is a pain too." Lann suggested, turning his head toward his companions. "And cover yourselves well, it's going to get cold soon."

Without waiting for a response, a torrent of magical energy began to gather in Lann's hand.

[Aard Sign: Piercing Cold - Magic Burst]!

The next moment a snowstorm broke out inside the cave.

The sirens flying at high speed in the air were pressed against the rock walls, unable to move.

Due to the peculiarity of the cave, the telekinetic impact generated a rotating storm that transformed into a small tornado inside the cave. The sirens, who had been pressed against the walls, began to spin uncontrollably, propelled by their enormous wings. In the process, they repeatedly crashed into the rocks, falling to the ground with dry thuds, before continuing to be carried away by the air currents.

The four witchers narrowed their eyes as they took a few steps closer to Lann.

Guslav clung tightly to the collar of his coat and sleeves, shivering with cold as his teeth chattered. However, his face showed a feverish flush. "This is the Lion of Cintra..."

...

Lann did not keep the storm going for long, when the gale finally calmed, the sirens fell to the ground.

Their bodies were covered in a thin layer of frost, and the blood they shed was rapidly freezing. Their wings were completely frozen, unable to move them to fly again.

The witchers put away their crossbows and unsheathed their silver swords in unison as they approached with a steady pace.

The sirens, due to the cold energy, could not even change into their maiden form to beg for mercy or deceive their attackers. Only the initially wounded siren continued to emit pitiful howls.

Suddenly, her voice rose in a shrill scream, as if she was breathing her last. The poison in her body exploded, causing unbearable pain that was about to take her life.

But just as the witchers were preparing to finish off the sirens, a voice echoed through the cave.

"Wait! Please wait, noble sirs! Have mercy, I beg you!"

The witchers stopped and turned towards the source of the voice.

The newcomer had typical Skelliger features: greyish brown hair, a robust build and ebony-dark skin.

If there was something that set him apart from the rest…

It was his face. Strikingly handsome, with thick eyebrows and large eyes, it had an unusual, almost childlike purity that contrasted sharply with the roughness of the other villagers, whose features seemed to have been cast at random.

His face, however, was not in the best condition. Marked by bloody scars, with cracked cheeks and a greyish hue, he looked dirty, haggard and had deep dark circles under his eyes.

He was the young survivor they had been searching for. The brave man who had dared to have a relationship with a mermaid.

"Bill?" Lann did not lower his sword. He stared at the young man, trying to confirm his identity.

Kolgrim and Gerd did not hide their curiosity. They examined the young man from top to bottom and noted his deplorable state.

His already gaunt face was not the only thing that showed his deterioration. The clothes he was wearing were in tatters, barely covering the bare essentials, and were soaked in blood.

Despite this, Bill seemed indifferent to their appearance. He quickly stepped forward, wanting to stop Lann and the others from killing the sirens, but the witchers' intimidating aura paralyzed him midway.

Not knowing what to do, he stood still, a few steps away from Lann.

"I don't know how you know, sir, but yes, I'm Bill." He said, his voice nervous. His gaze shifted to the injured siren, who was moaning on the ground. The warmth and concern in his eyes was that of someone looking at a younger sister.

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