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— “I see you gather before me… hungry… terrified… Clutching your grimoire to your chest. God of blood and killing Khorne has marched his legions into our worlds… Laid devastation to every living from here to the Dragon Mountains. Rabid and ravenous, he bites and bites away.” “Magi of the North, you stand at the precipice! Your heralds have failed you, so now you turn to the sleeper! And yet you do not heed? You do not kneel to dust your heads with husk? Instead you wail, ‘Why have the heralds forsaken us?’” “We must look into the trails we failed not long ago! In a time past, our world intertwined with another through an upheaval scholars call the Second Conjunction of the Spheres… The heralds allowed unholy forces to slip into our domain. The offspring of that cataclysm was the nefarious force called mana…” “Yet we did not banish it, instead studying the vile arcane for our own power and wealth! And the mythic at our door… the unholy relics of this Second Conjunction? …the devourer…the primal beast…the daedra? Did we raise our science and magic against them? Or have we laid this burden on others?” “On so-called demon slayers… Stray children taught the ways of foul breathing, their mind mutated through blasphemous technique. Sent to fight mythic though they could not distinguish good from evil. The flicker of humanity long extinguished within them.” “Yes, their numbers have doubled through the years. Many still roam our lands, offering their bloody work for mere satisfaction. To this day they shame us with their very existence! The North bleeds, flogged by war. The battles are the herald’s whip, chastisement for our corruption! And let us not forget the terrors, the heart of darkness from beyond our world! The ancestors roamed through our minds with every cycle of the moon!” “The narrator twisted our children into the lands unknown! Some say he is the harbinger of the third Conjunction! Can we chart a course back into the light? Will we find the strength to banish the demon slayers from our country? Unite around the blue color of the Eternal Madness?” “Nigh is the Time of the Wand and Guns! None will fight this war in our stead! Nigh is the Time of Swirling Stars!” — This is not a Witcher fan fiction per se, but rather a story that initially features elements from The Witcher. — In this story, the dark tag means it’s genuinely dark, and the harem tag means it’s like the old-school harem, where women are objectified. — Don’t expect too much lore and detail in each fandom, because their past history is long gone. This means that everything from their characteristics, way of speaking, traditions, and culture is pretty much shallow at best. —
—
Waking up from drowsiness followed by dizziness assaulting his temple, Richard Harris tried to make sense of his surroundings. Tall trees filled his vision, with thick snow painting the landscape as far as the eye could see. He then tried to stand up. Falling again and again from the lingering pain in his head, Richard finally managed to get his bearings after a couple of minutes of deep breathing.
Looking around, trying to remember what was happening to him, he was struck by a splitting headache, seemingly forgetting who he was and what he did before arriving in this world. He couldn't remember a single thing except his generic Irish name. From the moment of his birth until he grew up to the age of 20, nothing could enter his memory. After inhaling and exhaling large amounts of air, he finally managed to calm down and rejuvenate his body.
Shaking his head to regain his bearings, Richard then focused his attention on his transparent hands. No, they weren't exactly transparent, but he could tune his eyesight to see deep within the material world. From the skin on the surface, to the muscle beneath, to the blood coursing through his veins, to the five bones in his fingers, deep into every single cell, and finally every atom that made up his body.
But once Richard Harris tried to see beyond the atoms that made up his body, he was once again assaulted by a headache, indicating he was currently unable to fully utilize the upgradeability of his Transparent World abilities. After the migraine subsided, he was confused as to why he knew the name of this ability, as this was the first time he had come into contact with it.
His instinct told him that this was related to the attire he was wearing: a red haori over a very pale orange-colored nagagi kimono with a black umanori-styled hakama, a pair of zōri with red straps and white tabi socks, and a katana sword carried at the left side of his waist, painted in bright red with a wavy pattern. Unknowingly, three words came to mind when Richard saw this: Cosplay, Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
Caressing his long natural hair, dyed red only at the tips, Richard shook his head and decided not to think further about it. His immediate concern was searching for traces of civilization since only intelligent creatures could give him a clue as to what was happening to him. Looking around as far as his eyes could see with no obstructions, he finally saw a fortress in the distance currently under siege by many monsters.
Dread filled his entire being as he saw the Necrophage creatures for the first time in his life, making his sharp mind pause for a split second due to the sense of trepidation at seeing something entirely different from the modern cozy world. Richard suddenly felt his whole being enter a state that made his mind clearer, allowing him to assess the situation calmly without fear obstructing his judgment.
Amazed once again by the cool ability that he had named Selfless State, which unknowingly jogged his memories of reading a manga, Richard was able to see the group of fiends without a sense of trepidation. Counting exactly 453 creatures that were not human surrounding the fortress, he then tried to organize them by the structure of their muscles in their bodies.
The weakest and most common were blue humanoid creatures with long claws and protruding dorsal fish fins on their backs. Memories flooded back to him, especially the times he had spent playing in front of the computer. Richard frowned in confusion since he didn't know what a computer was. Sighing and shaking his head once again, no matter how hard he tried to remember, he couldn't recall what the computer was.
Richard then continued to categorize the rest of the monsters further. Observing the structure of their muscles and bones, he could guess that they seemed capable of jumping three meters into the air.
With their appearance of rotting flesh and their current posture walking on all fours while trying to climb up the walls with elongated claws, Richard suddenly remembered a white-haired Witcher attempting to kill them with a dance of silver sword moves known as Whirl.
"Hmm. Witcher? What is that?"
Sighing once again since he still couldn't remember anything further beyond waking up in this place, Richard decided to get closer to the fortress and try to get a clue about what in the world all of this was.
—
"RADOVID! STOP THIS MADNESS!"
SLAP!
"Shut up, you old crone! Their lives are necessary for our survival!"
"ARGH! I WILL KILL YOU! I SWEAR I WILL BURN YOU ALL!"
"Enough! Graden, take this woman to the dungeon again! Her students already see her as safe and well!"
"Yes, my king!"
"I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL BURN YOU ALL!"
"Now, children. What are you waiting for? Start and do your magic."
Frowning upon witnessing this scene upon his arrival, Richard couldn't help but gaze at this group of women, children, and teenagers. He scrutinized the condition of their hearts, nearly shriveled like stage four cancer, struggling with a single amber of willpower left.
Their act of conjuring various elements in their hands to hurl at the monsters below only worsened their condition, slowing their weakly pumping hearts even further. Richard even witnessed the last moments of some of the children as they succumbed to eternal darkness, their resolute faces telling the true monster atop the wall that their lives were worth sacrificing for their adopted mother, who had cared for them despite becoming a hunchback.
Unconsciously inhaling and exhaling deeply, Richard was moved by the children's determination. Memories of the white-haired Witcher's Whirl swordsmanship flooded his mind as he drew his katana. Sensing his presence, five monsters turned towards him, feeling the heat in the air. Richard ingrained the dance of the silver sword deeply into his muscles.
As they lunged towards him, he spun the katana exactly like the white-haired Witcher. Slash, slash, slash—the creatures writhed in agony from Richard's deep cuts. Frowning, he observed that none were instantly incapacitated, despite the severity of their injuries that should have immobilized them.
Since the awkward shape and weight of the katana were not suited for this kind of technique, Richard devised a different yet similar approach more suitable for a single-edged blade in his mind. The five monsters lunged at him again, having grown accustomed to the pain inflicted. Once more, Richard danced his katana gracefully through the air.
Slash, slash, slash—limbs separated from bodies, and all five creatures writhed in agony once more, unable to move. However, inspecting his cheap katana that he bought from Amazon meant only for decoration, Richard frowned deeply. Dents and chips dotted the blade; he speculated it could only endure slashing between twenty and thirty opponents before breaking.
Another eight creatures approached due to the commotion, prompting Richard to entertain a daring idea, knowing that his breath could rejuvenate his body. He then inhaled and exhaled the blistering, scorching air deeply, channeling it into the iron part of the blade. Slash, slash, slash—eight creatures writhed in agony, their limbs lost instantly.
Nodding in satisfaction at the now sharper katana with its integrity intact, Richard took the offensive, slicing through the monsters like vegetables. Dancing under the moonlight, his movements became as beautiful as flaming roses amidst the murky waters. With each breath, the murky water gradually cleared, reflecting the moonlight above.
After a breathtaking display of the form he named Dance of Whirlwind for over ten minutes, Richard finally stood face to face with the leader of the Necrophages. Upright and wary, this new breed of Ghoul displayed a level of intelligence unlike its predecessors. Minutes passed in silence; Richard finally spoke first, "I only seek to end the real monster here."
Confused by human language, Richard understood their different means of communication. Making a universal gesture, he pointed his katana towards the Witch Hunters and Redanian soldiers on the walls. The new Ghoul race finally understood his meaning. Crying out loudly to its surroundings, the creature then fled into the distant forest, followed in unison by the remaining two hundred Necrophages in the area who had not fallen before his blade.
—
