Biolield was the foundation of control and defence, while Super Strength and Super Speed served offence and support. If he couldn't handle those three abilities at level two... well, unless he upgraded all the rest to level two or even three, it would all be for nothing.
The urgent task was to invest his limited resources into the core abilities that most directly influenced the course of battle — that was the rational choice.
Besides... Freya's blessing also seemed to have strengthened him in some way.
Pushing these thoughts aside, Karl looked down at the earth, veiled in clouds. It was time to return.
His figure flickered, and he dove downward. "Boom!!"
The loud, muffled thunder didn't erupt from a single point — it trailed along his diving path. Behind him, he left a long, deafening trajectory. Ring-shaped sonic boom clouds no longer appeared just once but generated and spread continuously in his wake.
---
On the ground, in the open training grounds of the manor, everyone had already completed their final checks and preparations.
Geralt carried two swords, his belt lined with potions and bombs, his witcher's attire wrapped in light leather armour.
Triss, Yennefer, Hen, and Tissaia had changed into practical travelling clothes, while Keira and Margarita remained in their usual robes. They carried the magical artefacts they had chosen earlier, staves in hand, pulsing with faint arcane light.
Dalton and Philipp led fifty-three knights, issuing instructions for the next steps.
Mossak wore his customary robes, gripping an oak staff, his expression grave.
Hen and Tissaia stood at the front of the group, quietly exchanging final words.
At that moment: "Rumble..."
A faint, muffled thunder echoed from the depths of the sky, breaking the silence. Almost simultaneously, everyone looked up toward the source of the sound.
All eyes turned to that endless blue expanse.
The sound grew clearer and nearer — it was the same noise Karl had made that day when he shot into the sky. But this time, it seemed... more continuous, more savage.
"Look there!" Geralt's sharp gaze pointed to a certain spot in the sky.
A tiny black dot, like a drop of ink piercing the canvas, suddenly emerged from a thin layer of cloud. Immediately after, the dot expanded rapidly at a speed that made hearts race.
With each blink, its size in their vision multiplied several times over.
The roar that reached them grew louder and more awe-inspiring. It was no longer just muffled thunder — it was a continuous, unbroken howl, as if the very sky screamed in agony.
In an instant, the black dot became clearly visible — a humanoid figure, plummeting straight down from the heavens.
Who else could it be but Karl?
At this moment, the roar was so intense that the ground trembled slightly. The air compressed and tore, the screech even drowning out the thunderous body of the sonic boom. It caused a prickling pain in most people's eardrums, a tightness in their chests, and an instinctive urge to cover their ears.
Just as everyone thought this terrifying momentum was about to reach its peak—
Suddenly, the deafening, continuous roar and screech vanished. Not fading gradually, but instantaneously plunging into an eerie silence.
Yet Karl in the sky showed no sign of slowing down — on the contrary, to all eyes, he seemed to be moving... faster.
How fast? So fast that no one could track his movements with the naked eye.
In the eyes of Geralt, Triss, Margarita, and the others—
One moment ago, Karl's figure was still hundreds of metres above, falling downward.
The next moment, all that remained was a dim, blurry afterimage.
Their eyes instinctively darted around, trying to locate and fix Karl's figure, but their gazes found nothing.
"Left side?" "Wait, is that wind on the right?" "Is he still up there?"
Instinctively, everyone looked around, even raising their eyes to the path he had come from — but found nothing.
Just as a small stir of confusion began to grow, a calm, familiar voice came from nearby: "Everyone ready?"
The voice was not loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly. They all jolted and spun toward the sound.
At the edge of the clearing, by the temporary area where spare supplies, staves, and equipment lay, Karl somehow already stood there.
He was relaxed, not a speck of dust on him, as if he had merely taken a stroll and offered a casual greeting.
Margarita, Keira, and many who were witnessing Karl "land" this way for the first time—
All stared at him in a daze, mouths slightly agape, stunned speechless.
Even those who had seen Karl fly before — Geralt, Triss, Dalton, and others — were now far more shocked than before.
The last flight, though fast, had still been within their understanding.
But this time... the transition from extreme motion to extreme stillness came so abruptly, and his diving speed was so high that vision itself could not track it. He landed without a sound, not even stirring the hem of his clothes...
This had completely surpassed the bounds of "flight" or "rapid movement."
They could find no proper frame of reference to describe this gap. If before he had been as fast as a peregrine falcon, now... a peregrine and lightning? No, perhaps even more exaggerated.
Hen and Tissaia exchanged glances, both seeing shock and understanding in each other's eyes. They had lived long and witnessed all manner of strange creatures and incredible spells. But someone like Karl, who could demonstrate pure speed and power at such an effortless level — truly rare.
This was not just about "power," but about an almost absolute command over himself. With such physical control, in terms of mastering speed and physical techniques like swordsmanship, no genius could compare.
Ahem. Hen cleared his throat, pulling everyone from their shock and silence back to reality.
"Karl, everything's ready. Is there anything you need to add or adjust?"
Hen stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the assembled team, then nodding to Karl.
Karl followed Hen's glance across the training ground — everyone had indeed changed into battle gear.
Yennefer and Triss had shed their usual luxurious gowns, replacing them with form-fitting outfits that allowed easy movement and offered some defensive features.
His gaze lingered on Tissaia, holding for a moment.
This seemingly dignified and conservative sorceress had now changed into a well-designed deep-blue outfit. The top hugged her trim waist, with a wide skirt for easy movement, and knee-high boots. The side slit of this outfit was rather high, revealing long lines of thigh wrapped in the tall boots as she walked. The originally tightly wrapped neckline had been transformed into a V-cut, revealing a rather "generous" cleavage — a stark contrast to her usual image.