Some time later, on the wilderness at the foot of Mount Gorgon, illuminated by more than thirty torches, the "Professor," Hayes Brendan, finished his observations, pushed up his sunglasses, rose from the ground, and shouted, "Retreat! We'll return to the stronghold first!"
Receiving the order, the terrified and trembling villains quickly followed him away.
His subordinates were frightened, and Hayes, walking in the middle of the group, was also in a foul mood. The situation had completely exceeded expectations. First, "Badger" had received intelligence and secretly led a team to pursue the witcher. Only after setting out for some time had he sent someone to notify Hayes, clearly wanting to monopolize the credit.
If it had been only that, it would not have mattered. The problem was that in the brief time Hayes had been delayed, more than ten of them had all disappeared. At the scene, only patches of blood remained, no... patches was not the right word. It should be called a sea of blood. There were also several claw prints of vastly different sizes and depths. Those enormous footprints definitely did not belong to any normal creature. With all the bodies gone without a trace, it was highly likely they had been taken away by a monster.
The efficiency of the slaughter and cleanup was shocking. It reminded the "Professor" of many legends about Toussaint, such as "the beast that specializes in devouring villains," or "the place where spies disappear." In the past, he had only regarded them as the dreamy mutterings of a fairy-tale kingdom, but now he felt they had a touch of horror story to them.
Thinking again of Viscount de Rideaux, who usually came personally to oversee operations, and of how this time, unexpectedly, he had chosen to let Hayes lead the team and handle everything with full authority, Hayes had originally thought he was deeply trusted. But after witnessing this bizarre scene, even in the brisk autumn wind, cold sweat still faintly seeped down his back.
Cantarella was nowhere to be found, and the original clue, that short-haired witcher, had presumably died along with them. Perhaps he should suspend operations and apply to Mr. Vattier for another mage to support them.
This kind of extraordinary monster should still be dealt with through spells! Or perhaps... he could hire a witcher to handle it? The "Professor" remembered that at Corion Vineyard, there happened to be a witcher named Victor who possessed outstanding skills, and had even been able to deal with Azar Javed.
Mr. Vattier had other plans and did not want anyone provoking Victor. But anyone could be the one to hire a witcher.
...
And Victor, the witcher the Professor was thinking of, was kneeling on a carpet. At this moment, he had just finished a meaningful meditation and was staring blankly at Keira Metz, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed.
Simple clothes looked especially good on her. The neckline of her hunting outfit opened down to her lower abdomen, and with every breath in and out, the mountains rose and fell in perfect rhythm, while the riding breeches also had quite excellent coverage.
In truth, he did not mind if the sorceress opened a portal and went home to sleep. However, opening a portal seemed to consume a great deal of energy, so she had cast a spell to take a medium-sized tent and bed from folded space for a short rest, and had specially allowed the young man to rest on the carpet beside her.
Thus, during meditation, the demon in his heart said, "Tsk tsk! What the hell are you still hesitating for? Have some confidence and attack her already! You should know, when heaven gives and you do not take, you suffer the blame. When the time comes and you do not welcome it, you suffer disaster! I boldly guess that she's just waiting for you to attack!"
And the angel in his heart retorted, "You should know, that starts at three years in prison and can go as high as the death penalty! Using violence to harm a woman is a serious crime. Have you forgotten the electric sphere she hid in her hand last time? A certain sage once said, patience and discipline are indispensable! If the enemy does not move, I do not move. Besides, I like being passive!"
The result of the brief clash between the angel and the demon was beyond doubt. The light of righteousness shone upon the earth, illuminating every dark place!
Just look, that's enough. Just look with these Sharingan eyes of mine!
Brothers, did I do the right thing?
...
Some time passed... The sorceress opened her eyes and stared at the witcher. Then she got out of bed and ruffled his blond side part. "Let's go! We'll deal with Professor Moreau's pet."
Victor left the tent so Keira could cast a spell and put away the tent and bed. Wearing heavy armor, he took three potions from his herbal satchel and drank them, the enhanced Thunderbolt, Tawny Owl, and Blizzard.
After thinking for a moment, he took out three more tubes of potions, Full Moon and Maribor Forest. The former increased bodily vitality to ensure he would not be easily injured, while the latter increased adrenaline secretion. The last was a tube of Werewolf Decoction.
Decoctions were extremely toxic, and this was Victor's first time using one. They required specific monster mutagens as ingredients, making them extremely precious and rare. However, they lasted a long time and their effects were excellent. Werewolf Decoction could effectively improve physical movement ability, which would be very helpful for the coming mobile battle.
After drinking so many potions at once, the accumulation of intense toxicity made the burning sensation on his face even clearer this time. Yet it was not his entire face. A few areas were disaster zones, nearly scalding hot, while a few areas were icy cold and entirely unresponsive.
Keira, having finished putting away her things and come closer, was first startled when she saw Victor's face, then giggled softly. "You... what happened to your face? Why did you put on makeup for no reason?"
"Makeup!?" Victor suddenly remembered something that felt as if it had happened a long time ago. The last time he fought Azar Javed, he had drunk too many potions. Back then, the mage had suddenly mentioned makeup, leaving Victor baffled.
A subtle premonition flashed through him. He borrowed a mirror from Keira to look at his face. Sure enough, the elaborate patterns on his face... were Sage Body markings... Corion, you really are too dramatic!
When normal witchers drank highly toxic potions and their toxicity accumulation rose, their appearances became strange. For example, deathly pale, greenish faces, spiderweb-like blood vessels, bulging blackened veins, all of these were normal phenomena.
However, Victor's toxic reaction appeared only around his eyes and on his cheeks, and the sky-blue eye-shadow patterns were sharp and elegant like calligraphy strokes. No matter how one looked at them, they were undoubtedly artistic makeup. No wonder Azar had once said he would introduce him to a tattoo master.
Circling around to stare at his face, the sorceress rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "You... you actually look rather good like this... When did you learn makeup?"
The witcher sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you this is natural, the result of my mutation, and that when my toxicity rises, this happens?"
"Do you take me for a fool? Who has toxicity rise to their face in separate regions like that!? Besides, it doesn't look like poisoning at all. Look how pure this blue is!" As Keira spoke, she lightly touched Victor's sky-blue eye shadow with her hand, then stared faintly at her clean fingers.
"Actually, I agree with your point. Who has toxicity rise to their face and turn into patterned regions like this? But this is reality... Now the first one has appeared. No, wait..." Thinking of Leo and his three-tomoe Sharingan, was he actually the first victim? "I should be the second!"
After repeatedly rubbing and touching his face to confirm it was not makeup, the sorceress's eyes sparkled as she looked at the witcher. That was the gaze of curiosity and contemplation.
Sensing danger, Victor changed the subject and pointed toward the gargoyle in the center of the hall. "My dear Lady Keira, are you ready to deal with this troublesome fellow?"
Blinking and laughing softly, the sorceress did not mock the witcher's clumsy attempt to shift focus. She opened her magical shield. "Of course. Let's begin!"
...
The two walked into the hall. The stone statue in the center of the room seemed entirely unresponsive, but when they reached the middle, the Wolf School medallion suddenly began to tremble.
The next second, Keira blinked, and Victor rolled aside. The gargoyle's enormous body smashed down heavily from the air onto the place where they had been standing just moments before.
The gargoyle said, "Aaaah! Uninvited guests! Intruders! You are not welcome here!"
It charged at the closer witcher, roaring as it swung its fists. If Victor had not misunderstood, then the short, thick, stubby arms were throwing a left jab and a right hook. Of course, no matter which punch it was, getting hit would make him cough blood.
The sturdy Undvik armor did not affect the witcher's agile movements. After the gargoyle's punch missed, he immediately closed in, crouched down, and executed the toenail-trimming tactic!
The silver sword struck heavily against its knee. Stone chips scattered, and a slash opened across it.
He dodged the falling left palm and cut again at a nearby spot!
Enraged by the repeated strikes, the gargoyle raised both hands to smash down again, when with a bang, magic exploded against its back, knocking it two steps forward. Its knee took another sword strike.
Keira Metz's backstab shockwave was far more effective than Victor's three strikes to the knee. One of the gargoyle's wings was blasted straight off its back, and the obvious massive damage naturally resulted in the monster's hatred shifting targets.
Thus, for what followed, booms kept ringing out without pause. That was the sound of the sorceress blinking repeatedly and the gargoyle teleporting after her. The witcher abruptly went from protagonist to spectator.
To suppress this kind of short-distance blinking, he could throw two dimeritium bombs and scatter the field with dimeritium fragments, greatly increasing their spellcasting cost. Before long, neither of them would be able to blink for free. However, doing this would first of all sabotage Keira, and it would also seal his own Signs. More importantly, he did not even have a single dimeritium bomb on hand.
A gargoyle was a type of golem. If the magical circuits inside its body were disrupted, it would malfunction and collapse. The difficulty lay in breaking through the sturdy granite exterior. Judging from the results of those three sword strikes earlier, the toenail-trimming tactic was feasible. Its drawback was that it would take a painfully long time, while its advantage was safety and reliability.
But first, he had to wait for the gargoyle to give up chasing Keira.
Silently observing this ongoing game of hide-and-seek, Victor saw that the monster's logic was clearly to walk and pursue when the distance was shorter, and to blink and chase when the distance was a little farther. In that case...
Eureka!!!
A flash of inspiration suddenly struck, and Victor came up with a wonderful idea.
However, at that moment, an unfortunate accident occurred. Keira Metz, who had paused slightly to cast a spell, was struck by the pursuing gargoyle's punch and sent flying, crashing heavily into the wall.
Before he had time to clearly see the sorceress's condition, the witcher noticed the monster looking toward him. The next second, Victor rolled to the side, and the gargoyle delivered another mountain-crushing body slam, landing with a thud where he had just been standing.
Victor flourished his sword and stepped forward fearlessly, once again beginning to trim the monster's toenails. He was not worried about Keira's safety. That fierce woman would not go down so easily.
Sure enough, after only a few minutes of bitter fighting, the broken wall exploded and scattered. Keira floated out from within, looking entirely unruffled. Her magical shield had absorbed almost all of the impact.
Glaring viciously at the gargoyle's back, she raised both hands above her head and crossed them. Her blond hair drifted upward, and surging magical power began to gather. The Wolf School medallion shook violently. Clearly, she was truly angry and intended to hit the monster with something ruthless.
Although it would not be unacceptable to let the sorceress vent, considering how destructive large-scale magic could be, the witcher still spoke to stop her. "Keira, please don't. You'll collapse this place. I have a good idea, and I guarantee we can deal with it very easily!"
Roaring its originally set lines, the gargoyle continued chasing Victor. "Aaaah! Intruder! I will flatten you! I will smash you! Your death is inevitable!"
Keira's cold gaze moved away from the monster. She turned and glared at Victor for quite a while before finally lowering her hands and crossing them before her chest. "Speak, then! How do we deal with this annoying pile of garbage?"
"Like at the beginning, hit it hard to draw it into chasing you. Then, in less than ten seconds, blink to the designated spot, and it will all be over!" As he explained, his body kept moving rhythmically and his silver sword flashed without pause. The witcher and the gargoyle danced together smoothly and naturally.
Although it sounded very simple, the thought of playing hide-and-seek while being chased and beaten again made the sorceress's face darken as she sulked.
Catching sight of her expression, Victor decisively lowered his posture. "Oh! Dear and beautiful Keira, I'm so tired. This pile of garbage keeps chasing me and hitting me. Please, let's solve this problem quickly, all right? I promise it won't take ten seconds, and it will end cleanly and neatly!"
Shaking her head helplessly, Keira took a deep breath, clenched her right hand into a fist, and swung it fiercely. A shockwave exploded again, directly blasting off the monster's remaining wing.
Just as expected, it targeted the sorceress once more and teleported toward Keira. Having obtained a brief opening, the witcher did not hesitate. Curling his middle finger inward and aiming toward the ground, he shouted, "Aard! Aard! Aard!" Three consecutive shockwave Signs blasted a depression into the ground by force.
Then Victor shouted to Keira, "Teleport to my side and don't move!"
Hearing the shout, the sorceress glanced over amid her frantic movements. She immediately understood the witcher's idea, but at the same time, she was extremely surprised.
With a boom, she blinked down from a higher place to Victor's side. Keira's magical flow suddenly felt slightly obstructed. It was clearly the reaction of approaching dimeritium. So the raw material of this greatsword was actually...
Just as he had expected beforehand, the gargoyle once again blinked above the two of them, intending to deliver another mountain-crushing body slam. Victor wrapped one arm around Keira's waist and shot away from their original position like an arrow leaving the string, leaving only his Dragon-Slaying Sword fixed in place!
Hidden Leaf Secret Taijutsu Art, One Thousand Years of Death!
The gargoyle's astonishing body weight, combined with gravitational acceleration, landed solidly, transforming into a fatal One Thousand Years of Death that truly struck deep enough to reach the lungs!
Without question, the Dragon-Slaying Sword was very thick, and very long!
The sword tip protruded from its chest, and its magical circuits were all disrupted from within by dimeritium. The gargoyle kept trying to stand up, but it was truly impaled too deeply! It could only sway like a roly-poly toy, and with every sway, it sank even deeper.
Although she had originally found this pile of garbage extremely annoying, after personally witnessing this self-destructive scene and its dying struggle, Keira could no longer hold back the ridiculous feeling. Holding Victor, she laughed heartily for quite a while, then suddenly pulled him lower and kissed him on the cheek!
"Thank you. I haven't laughed this happily in a long time! I can't even remember the last time I laughed like this."
"...It is my honor to make you happy."
The struggling roly-poly groaned and creaked. She kissed him again, this time at the corner of his lips.
Before long, the gargoyle's magical circuits lost function, and it sat there, no longer able to move.
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