Chapter 201: Do you also want to dance?
The magnificent castle had gaping holes torn into it by the colossal centipede.
The witcher and sorceress stepped into the castle's interior, a scene of utter devastation.
Everywhere they looked, the bodies of witchers, apprentices, and resident sorcerers lay scattered.
Blood splattered across the floor and walls, a gruesome sight.
It was clear from the scene just how fierce the battle had been.
While witchers were monster slayers, they still had their limits.
In 1146, the Manticore school escorted the Zerrikanian prince across the desert to the kingdom of Metinna, which had not yet been occupied by Nilfgaard, for a marriage alliance.
Almost the entire Manticore school was mobilized, with their grandmaster personally leading the expedition.
However, as they passed through the Farrey Mountains, they encountered a twenty-meter-tall fire elemental.
The result was the near annihilation of the Manticore school's witchers and heavy casualties for the caravan.
Even witchers had few opportunities for specialized training against gigantic monsters.
Therefore, defeat was somewhat expected.
Suddenly, Lynn stopped.
Fringilla looked at Lynn, noting the witcher's unprecedentedly serious expression.
She followed his gaze.
The grandmaster's eyes stared blankly at the sky.
Then,
His eyeballs suddenly moved, fixing a dead stare in their direction.
"Witcher, you were right next to the enemy just now. Why didn't you act? Why is your sword still safely in its scabbard?"
This time, Lynn didn't need Fringilla to remind him; he knew what trick this was.
The monster manipulating the nightmare world was still trying to use Lynn's guilt to wear him down mentally and make him doubt himself.
However, the monster had underestimated Lynn.
Lynn wouldn't fall for it this time, even without the sorceress's warning.
Because the Wolf school's philosophy was inherently about unity.
Every witcher from the Wolf school was like a child to the grandmaster.
They were all family to each other.
The reason Vesemir tried his best to maintain this family was the philosophy taught to him by the previous grandmaster.
How could he possibly use moral blackmail against his own family?
"You're dead today, monster, I swear it, no one can save you," Lynn drew his silver sword. "I'm not angry for myself, but for them. How could they say such things?!"
"You killed us."
"You are a sinner of the Wolf school."
"Get out of Kaer Morhen, the Wolf school has no witcher like you."
"Vesemir made a mistake bringing you in."
"How dare you still live."
The bodies of the witchers who had died earlier now swayed to their feet, their wounds visibly healing, but their expressions were entirely different from before, as if possessed.
The next moment,
Both sides lunged at each other like ice wolves, moving with lightning speed.
The clang of blades echoed within the ruined castle.
Despite being outnumbered, Lynn unexpectedly held the upper hand.
The "Complete Enhancement" perk made him faster and more agile than normal witchers.
The "Magic Absorption" perk gave him faster magic recovery than other witchers.
Master-level signs allowed him to cast more powerful signs; for example, his Quen shield could withstand more damage than other witchers' Quen signs.
And master-level Wolf school swordsmanship gave him the courage to face multiple swords at once.
In the real world's Wolf school, only Vesemir and Geralt had achieved master-level swordsmanship.
Eskel and Lambert were always just a step away.
Once swordsmanship reached master level, its biggest advantage was the ability to predict an opponent's moves just from their initial stance when facing an armed foe.
There was no need for conscious thought; the body's instincts alone could deliver the most powerful attacks.
As a result, the witchers attacking Lynn began to falter.
One witcher stumbled backward, hitting a wall, then bouncing off and falling to the ground;
Another witcher fell, curled up on the ground with a sword wound to the neck;
The third was disemboweled by Lynn;
The fourth had the side of their head mangled by a spinning slash of a sword...
The intense battle didn't last long; these reanimated witchers once again became corpses, lying back down.
"Tell me, how does it feel to kill your comrades with your own hands? Did it open that bloodthirsty switch inside you? Admit it, you enjoyed it, didn't you?"
As Lynn struck down the last witcher, the grandmaster stood before the young junior, leaning on his sword.
"When I kill you with my own hands, monster, I think I will truly enjoy that feeling."
"Watch me clear out this disgrace!"
The grandmaster roared and lunged fiercely.
But what greeted him was not a sword, but two vials containing shimmering liquid.
The Superior Northern Wind bomb made no sound, but the sudden drop in temperature and the blast of white frost quickly enveloped the unsuspecting grandmaster, who had no time to dodge.
He tried to escape the white frost, but it was too late.
The rapidly falling temperature formed a layer of ice on his body.
Just before he could escape the frost's range, he was finally frozen into a lifelike ice sculpture.
Lynn shattered the ice sculpture with a single sword stroke.
With a crash, the ice sculpture broke into countless pieces and fell to the ground.
At this moment, the grandmaster's corpse suddenly burst into flames.
Then the bodies of the other witchers.
The fire quickly spread.
Even the stone castle walls, which shouldn't catch fire, began to burn.
"Lynn."
Fringilla cast a magical barrier, and the witcher quickly took shelter inside.
The spreading flames grew larger and more intense.
Soon,
Everything outside the magical barrier was engulfed in fire.
It was as if the whole world was burning.
Like a piece of white paper set ablaze.
The illusion, once burned through, revealed a world of ashes.
Even the air seemed to be filled with granular ash.
Two little girls in princess dresses lay on the ground, holding hands.
Fringilla dispelled the magical barrier and went to check on them.
"Thankfully, they're okay. They're alive."
Lynn's medallion on his chest suddenly vibrated.
He pulled Fringilla back a step, then tapped a black gem on Anarietta's pretty shoe with his toe: "What is this?"
Before the sorceress could answer, the black gem suddenly moved on its own.
It transformed into a phantom, fleeing rapidly into the distance as if startled.
Wham!
Unfortunately, before it could get far, a boot descended from above, crushing it into a messy pulp.
(End of chapter)
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