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The name of the submerged city beneath Lake Vizima has faded from memory, but as an underwater dwelling in an inland lake, it is more akin to a town than a sprawling metropolis. Unbeknownst to the inhabitants of Vizima, this seemingly tranquil lake conceals a terrifying entity: Dagon, an ancient and powerful god, along with hundreds of his devoted Vodyanoi followers.

While Dagon and his minions plot and amass strength, they remain hidden, awaiting the opportune moment to unleash chaos upon the surface world. In secret, Wayne, has rallied six fellow witchers and three sorceresses to aid him in the eradication campaign against this underwater threat.

The submerged town bears the scars of neglect and decay. Scattered amidst the ruins of small, Romanesque buildings lies a colossal temple, occupying a vast expanse at the town's heart. Numerous acolyte guards, armed with rudimentary weapons, tirelessly patrol the area. Meanwhile, other acolytes, gaunt and emaciated, struggle to catch fish and seaweed, striving to ensure the survival of their community.

Beginning in the latter half of the previous year, a series of bombing incidents, spanning several months, has severely impacted the acolytes population. Once dominant along the shores of Lake Vizima, they have been reduced to a state of perpetual fear and heightened sensitivity to their surroundings.

Although the daily loss of a dozen or so acolytes may seem insignificant, the cumulative effect has been devastating, halving their warrior ranks. As a result, they rarely venture out in search of food, preferring to remain huddled within their nests, wary of any intruders who dare encroach upon their territory.

As Wayne and his team ventured from the lakebed to reinforce the underwater barrier that bisected it, they drew near the submerged town. Their presence immediately provoked a hostile response from the local inhabitants.

Unlike the structured battles of games, where enemies appear in small groups and gradually increase in difficulty, culminating in a final boss encounter, reality offered no such controlled escalation. As Wayne and his companions approached, the acolytes rallied their full force. Led by a dozen heavily armored acolytes warriors, nearly two hundred others swarmed towards the intruders like a surging dark tide.

Before they could close the distance, a barrage of bone harpoons filled the water, reminiscent of spears launched in a pitched battle. The projectiles hurtled towards the underwater barrier, but the acolyte, isolated from the surface world, remained unaware of the potent magic wielded by humans.

Keira Metz, adorned in a white dress and various magical accessories, countered the incoming threat. With a small wand in hand, she swiftly chanted an incantation. A wave of her wand unleashed an invisible surge, transforming into a powerful current upon leaving the barrier. The harpoon volley was swept aside, rendered harmless before it could reach its target.

Keira, a sorceress specializing in protective magic, may not have been able to withstand a vast army, but against the individually weaker acolytes, her magic proved to be a formidable asset in this smaller skirmish.

The acolytes, momentarily stunned, had never encountered such a defense. Harpooning was their primary tactic, and while they had few enemies near Lake Vizima and limited combat experience, they had always relied on this method to secure food within the lake.

The failure of their tried-and-true strategy did little to deter them, however. Encouraged by their leaders, they rallied once more, wielding their crude weapons as they charged towards the underwater barrier, hoping to overwhelm their foes with sheer numbers.

In response, Wayne and the other witchers formed a protective semicircle in front of the sorceresses, shielding them from the acolytes onslaught and preparing for a fierce melee.

Yennefer, in particular, was channeling mana to sustain the underwater barrier. An attack on her would likely destabilize the barrier, unleashing millions of tons of lake water upon them. This could cause serious harm, if not death, to everyone present. Therefore, Wayne remained close to the sorceresses, acting as their personal protector, rather than engaging in the battle alongside the other witchers. This was his primary responsibility in this fight.

As the acolytes approached, the first wave passed through the underwater barrier. The barrier's magic disrupted their forms, causing them to fall from the lake and crash onto the ground. The six witchers on the front line immediately launched a swift and precise attack, eliminating the fallen acolytes.

The acolyte's natural physiology and rudimentary armor offered little protection against the witchers' blades. Furthermore, they were inherently weaker than humans in combat. Facing sober, potion-enhanced, oil-smeared, and well-rested warriors who fought with seamless coordination, the battle was one-sided from the start.

The acolyte's weapons shattered against witcher steel, and their bodies were swiftly sliced apart. Foul-smelling, ichor-like blood filled the lakebed, only to be obscured by the gore of newly fallen acolytes.

The black wave of acolytes seemed to have crashed against an unyielding reef. Upon contact, they were scattered into bloody fragments, offering no resistance.

Wayne, steel sword in hand, remained vigilant. While guarding the sorceresses, he observed his fellow witchers decimate the acolytes.

No acolyte could withstand three blows from a witcher. Their coordinated attacks meant that even if a acolytes blocked a frontal assault, it would often be skewered from behind by another witcher's blade.

It was a pity that no one could understand the acolytes's language. Perhaps negotiation could have swayed them from their devotion to the evil god, rather than resorting to slaughter.

As more acolytes poured through the underwater barrier, Keira and Triss joined the fray.

One sorceress wielded lightning, the other fire. Against the unprotected acolytes, their magic proved devastating.

Each bolt of lightning, each fireball, inflicted horrific wounds on the acolytes. But more potent than the physical damage was the psychological impact.

To these primitive underwater creatures, sword fights were comprehensible. However, the dazzling lightning and scorching fireballs were terrors they had never encountered. These magical assaults swiftly shattered their morale.

Through the combined efforts of sorceress and witcher, nearly half of the two hundred acolytes were swiftly eliminated.

The heavy losses in such a short time alerted the acolyte leaders.

One particularly robust acolyte, likely of high status, noticed the carnage. It waved its weapon, let out a screeching cry, and blew a raucous note on an ugly shell horn.

Upon hearing the signal, the remaining acolytes abandoned their fighting comrades and retreated towards the massive temple in the city.

Unable to break through the underwater barrier, Geralt and the others could only watch the acolytes escape, powerless to stop them.

They vented their frustration on the remaining acolytes, their attacks growing even more ferocious. The stragglers were hacked to pieces, falling to the lakebed.

Despite the setback, the initial battle yielded significant results. Although the confrontation lasted less than twenty minutes, Wayne's side suffered only minor injuries. Berengar had a small abrasion on his arm, but no one else was harmed.

The acolytes, on the other hand, left nearly a hundred corpses behind. The survivors retreated into the massive temple at the city's center.

Unfortunately, the underwater barrier moved much slower than the acolytes could swim. They could only inch towards the temple.

After entering the underwater city, Triss exhaled and turned to Yennefer.

"Yen, let me take over the barrier. It's your turn to rest."

Yennefer, looking a little pale, nodded. Maintaining such an underwater barrier required immense magical energy, not sustainable by a single sorceress. This was why they hadn't used large-scale spells earlier – they needed enough mana to sustain the barrier until they returned to the surface.

Upon being relieved by Triss, Yennefer immediately downed a vial of purple potion with a rather unpleasant odor. While its taste and smell were disagreeable, it was the most common potion used by sorcerers. It effectively helped replenish mana and boost their spirits.

Geralt, ever attentive to Yennefer, saw her covering her mouth with a look of nausea. He quickly offered her a white handkerchief. Yennefer, however, merely gave him a sidelong glance and disgustedly tossed the handkerchief, now stained with foul-smelling acolyte blood, to the ground. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and asked Geralt,

"What's next, Wayne?"

"Should we clear out the remaining acolytes near the town before focusing on the temple, or should we head straight in?"

Wayne was pondering this question when Vesemir, the veteran witcher, spoke up.

"I think we should keep pursuing them. We should corner them as soon as possible. Faced with our overwhelming strength, these acolytes didn't scatter. They all fled to the temple. Clearly, they believe there's a power within that can aid them against us."

"The more time we give them to prepare, the stronger their resistance will be."

The veteran witcher's suggestion was met with immediate approval. George, wiping his sword, said,

"Yes, Wayne, I agree."

"We should eliminate the evil god first, then deal with its minions. Otherwise, it might sense danger and escape."

"Our mission would then be a failure."

After hearing their thoughts, Wayne agreed. After a few minutes of rest, they proceeded directly towards the temple gate.

The underwater temple's structure resembled that of an ancient Roman temple.

However, unlike the magnificent Roman temples, this underwater temple had existed in the lake for an unknown period. Its exterior was covered in algae and grime.

Instead of grandeur, it exuded an eerie, terrifying aura, like a monstrous maw waiting for prey.

Undeterred, Keira cast a powerful illumination spell towards the dark temple entrance.

The path ahead and the hall's interior were bathed in light. The group, maintaining a vigilant formation, cautiously entered the temple.

Seven witchers and three sorceresses - their team was fearless, even against a three-hundred-strong human army, let alone two to three hundred acolytes.

Upon entering, a putrid stench, worse than rotting fish, assaulted their nostrils. Looking into the hall, they instantly understood the source of the acolytess confidence.

The acolytes had regrouped inside the temple, forming an attack formation.

However, they looked different now.

Their eyes were bloodshot, their expressions fierce. Their muscles bulged, their bodies seemed larger. They appeared possessed.

Behind them stood a dozen hunched acolyte priests, wielding metal staffs. They channeled a blood-red energy into the acolytes.

The dozen or so strong acolyte leaders were unrecognizable.

Their bodies had swelled to nearly three meters tall. Their skin was a ghostly pale blue, their fish heads covered in writhing tentacles. Their muscles had grown to grotesque proportions, exuding a lethal aura.

Behind this group stood another figure, nearly five meters tall, its skin almost black. It resembled a giant with an octopus head, staring at the intruders with enormous, blood-red eyes.