Butcher of Buki. (Part 6)

Blue stripes attacked in groups of three to four from different directions. Invading the camp was easy, as well as slaughtering enemies on the way, who got distracted by the monster. They worked effectively, directly killing a couple of dozens of people.

During this time Alan moved closer to the cage.

Manticore was humongous.

One thing was to read about it in books during Kaer Morhen training and another to see with his own eyes. It was attractive as any predator due to its ferociousness and seamless movements.

A true grace of death. A natural-born killer.

Alan unsheathed his sword soundlessly and looked through the magic spells on it with his vision.

'No wonder. Ban Ard did a great job enhancing the monster. It's just... I never heard about such things before. Did they use some kind of chimerology for that?'

Manticore was wreaking havoc inside the encampment while ripping apart people with deadly efficiency. Alan went after it and jumped on the cart. While standing firmly a dozen steps away, he prepared for the fight just in time the monster looked over. Its instincts were screaming to be serious with little prey, as the later exuded some ancient pressure on bloodline level.

It went around the cart with caution. Alan never let it escape his line of sight and prepared to fight.

It was his seriousness that helped survive the first attack. Manticore jumped closer, but instead of a direct strike, it swiped the armored tail.

'What tremendous speed!'

It is like a blur of dark blue, that demolished everything on its path. Wood cringed and split in a loud sound similar to an explosion while sending parts of a huge merchant cart across the whole encampment.

Alan jumped high, avoided it with a roll while sliding down on the ground and creating shadow spikes. He aimed to impale it from below, but magical protection of the creature was indeed outstanding, directly evaporating the spell.

'Damn, that will be troublesome.'

Manticore jumped at him, slamming its paw from above. With strength and weight it had, let alone him, it would be able to squash a horse into meat paste.

Alan shifted his stance.

Unlike the one with a lower center of mass for engaging short monsters, the one meant for huge opponents is different. It helped witcher to be influenced easily by force while directing it in the right way and avoiding severe damage.

He surrounded himself with quen, the one that Triss and he improved back in Kaer Morhen, and shifted to the side, following the motion of a paw. The strike wasn't anything too great as a result, but acquired momentum was incorporated into whirlwind motion.

Silver sword flashed in the air, landing a lightning-fast blow on monsters' chest. The surface of fur got covered with sparks and several circuits of a defensive spell shattered due to impact.

'Troublesome.'

Witcher and a monster entered a skirmish. From the side, the battle looked like a hurricane of metal and claws. Wherever they went, the path made the camp thoroughly decimated. Alan ignited his magic bloodline to the best of its capabilities and left flashes of turquoise lightning where he teleported to. Even space began to tremble around the battlefield.

Meanwhile, blue stripes methodically avoided him and slaughtered everyone inside the caravan. They didn't spare a single soul and killed everyone most efficiently with swords and daggers alone.

"Lisa, withdraw. We've done our part." - ordered Vernon, while pulling out his slightly curved sword from the chest of the dead guard.

"And the witcher?" - the girl felt uncomfortable. She was young and despite her uncouth appearance coupled with harsh life, dreamed about chivalry and camaraderie spirit. Ves, as a soldier, loathed being seen as someone who earned the position with her body. Alan in their brief fight took her seriously. Unlike many other girls who might dislike his brutal and efficient actions,

Ves thought differently and appreciated it.

She found the witcher worthy of her trust.

"Lisa. Shut it." - Vernon directly cut her down. - "He has his job, we have ours. Period. Stop with your nonsense and look at the battle. What can you do to help him against a fucking monster like that?"

Ves gave one last glance at the distant fight between a monster and a... mutant? Ingrate?

Witchers have many names and most of them are not to be voiced in a good company.

But she knew for certain, neither she nor anyone in their squad could help there. On the contrary, their involvement would have created more trouble.

"Weasel, cover our tracks, remove arrows from the bodies and leave until villagers are alerted. We don't want any Kaedwen army on our tails while returning home. Make sure everyone thinks it was witcher who slaughtered them all."

Ves bit her lower lip but didn't say anything. In one thing Vernon was right.

She is not a little girl or a whimsical whore. She is a soldier. Soldiers follow orders. They are not some chivalrous knight with bullshit about honor. They kill whoever their superior point out to kill.

And the duty of superior is similar – not to care or save his subordinates. No. Vernon Roche is living to complete a mission, to serve the cause, and the lives of soldiers under his command are means to achieve it.

So they followed orders without a second thought.

Blue stripes retreated into the forest and easily vanished from the battlefield.

Only two bleeding monsters were left behind to continue their skirmish. One human and one creature under a sudden morning rain.

"Rain... just great." - murmured Alan and positioned himself on the wet ground, holding the sword in a protective stance, as he was turning according to the monster.

The later was walking around him, crouching like a tiger ready to pounce at its prey. They both covered in wounds and cuts, but the most notable one on manticore was a severed tail and a huge tear on the side, while half of the face of the witcher hidden behind a veil of blood.

'Even with teleportation, that tail got me. Wound to the left side of the face. Guess no witcher can avoid scars there, heh.'

Still, his regeneration abilities kicked in and already clotted a vertical cut. It went from the middle of his cheek to the forehead straight across the eye. Good thing his eye wasn't hurt. Its regeneration would have taken quite a bit of time.

"So, what will you do now? All magical circuits are finally broken." - whispered Alan, while moving his hand across the blade and igniting its edge in highly concentrated aqua flames. - "You, hybrids, are not that good with fire."

He shifted the sword in a one-arm hold and created a fireball. It sizzled under the rain while exuding steam. The only thing both heard was the sound of evaporating water and the noise of the rain.

Manticore was a beast with zero tolerance. It attacked first, pouncing at witcher with tremendous momentum. This move would be deadly against many, but Alan already adapted to its speed and reacted as fast as lightning, rolling forward. He shifted the sword, slid on the dirt, and avoided frontal claws.

Manticore suffered from a split-second moment of mistake. An unexpected move of little prey and the small fireball in its hand, overcharged with aqua flames, collapsed, creating a protuberance of pure plasma.

Ark of energy snapped in thunderous noise, striking out like a whip. Everything that plasma touched on its path directly evaporated to nothingness. The spell fired as fast as a flash of light, severing monster in half by the waist.

Alan never thought that manticore was capable of roaring in pain like that, but he knew better than coming closer and finishing it off. Precisely at death's door, monsters were the most ferocious and deadly. Any target would exhaust all strength to kill the person who inflicted such grave wounds.

"Never let down your guard, unless you are sure what you hunt turned to the trophy." - once said Eskel to him during a sparring session and Alan committed every single piece of advice of the seasoned witcher to heart.

So he stood up shakily and watched how manticore left this world in agony.

More than thirty people died and only a fraction of them due to the claws and teeth of the monster.

Most of them fell to the sword wounds. Townsfolk were attracted to the place of slaughter due to the wails of the monster.

They poured outside the houses like a flood. About a hundred villagers stood as a united front with whatever weapons they were able to find in their homes.

"Whacha this huge shit!" - screamed a man in astonishment and everyone shook while gazing at the witcher who still held a silver sword. Alan looked at the crowd and felt a looming threat.

"Wait... see that! Imma sure, people died cause of sword wounds! Look!" - one of the guards screamed on top of his lungs as if his life depended on how many townsfolks would hear him.

"Fuck." - cursed Alan after brief silence and sent vibe to Sparky. He was in no condition to fight. He spent all his mana on the last spell and while removing the protection circuit during the fight.

Standing at a place, he was trying to bide some time for recuperation, as this battle took a toll on stamina and resulted in several rather deep wounds.

'Vernon left me one hell of a present. As expected.'

"He... he killed them all! I tell ya, he is a monst'ar!" - screamed a woman from the crowd. It was like a final straw being snapped.

"Get outta here!" "Fuck off, butch'ar!" "Monst'ar!" "Ingrate!"

They screamed and overly eager ones, threw stones at him, that bounced off the surface of residual quen spell. Alan looked at the hundred or so villagers, who were ready to impale him on a stake. He turned around shakily, noticing Sparky galloping to him.

Townsfolk acted like a wave. They were terrified while giving way to an emotionless youth walking with unsteady, but even steps. They watched him mount the horse with some difficulty but never dared to attack.

Only after his figure disappeared behind the hill, did they finally relaxed. However, the tale of witcher who slaughtered a whole caravan alone, leaving a pile of corpses and the scorched ground behind, was spread fast through the hearsay and gossip.

Thus, Alan received a new alias for himself.

Butcher of Buki. That was a name humans gave him.

But from tales of how he fought elves named him differently.

Uidewen. Sky Flame.