Chapter 572: Idarran

Chapter 572: Idarran

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 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.

***

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