280. Settlement of the One-Eyed Wraith Extermination Rewards.
Upon hearing the cool female voice, the impassioned men turned around in unison.
The full moon hung high, and the night wind whistled. A woman, draped in a white robe, floated in mid-air under the round moon, her fiery red hair lifted by the wind.
At her feet, a mysterious ritual circle glowed with a hazy purple light, as scorching sparks gradually appeared out of thin air, obediently swirling around her. It was as though an ancient goddess who wielded the power of the moon and fire had descended upon the earth.
"Buzz~ Buzz~"
The emblem of their school vibrated with an increasingly intense frequency. From the perspective of the wolf insignia, all the visible red fire elements around the Witcher had become animated.
They pushed out every other element in the area in a fierce competition, revolving around the female mage.
A massive red tornado was taking shape.
It connected the earth to the heavens.
Apart from Mary, who stood dumbfounded beside Vera, none of the others could see what the Witchers saw. But a vague unease, raised hackles, and the skittish trembling of their highly trained warhorses told them to stop what they were doing and instinctively step aside.
"Aenyeaen'dreanAenyell'hael… Aenyeaen'dreanAenyell'hael…"
The cool female voice chanted an ancient incantation, rhythmic and resonant, as if reciting an archaic sacrificial hymn.
A tide of spirits, carrying thousands of green lanterns, surged forward.
The knights, warriors, and Witchers, however, ignored them, standing in neat ranks on either side of the ritual circle, their expressions solemn. They looked up at the holy figure, her pale skin seemingly reflecting the moon's silver light.
It was as if they awaited the coronation of a queen, welcomed the Moon Saintess, or even worshiped the ancient moon goddess herself.
Allen, hearing the chanting, furrowed his brow: "This incantation sounds somewhat familiar…"
"Isn't this the Flame Baptism, the spell Francesca cast in that self-abandoned cave in white orchard?"
Recalling some unpleasant memories from the past, the Witcher pursed his lips.
But in the next second…
The chanting slowed, and the searing sparks spinning around Vera gathered quickly into her outstretched hand.
In no time, a blazing sphere formed.
From the perspective of the wolf insignia…
It was as if Vera held aloft a blazing, blindingly white sun. This awe-inspiring sight left the Witchers gaping in amazement.
"Aenyeaen'dreanAenyell'hael… Aenyeaen'dreanAenyell'hae!"
The chanting voice ceased abruptly.
As Vera opened her eyes, her blood-red pupils glowed with a magical radiance in the night. She clenched her teeth, slowly thrusting the fireball from her right hand toward the advancing horde of monsters.
It seemed to take a great deal of effort.
In the elemental perspective, the sun itself was pushed forward, moving through the center of the ranks of knights, warriors, and Witchers. Nearly two minutes later, it finally settled at the heart of the green tide.
It sank into the ground.
Then silence.
A deathly quiet fell over the crowd.
A few seconds passed, the spirit tide continued to advance, and nothing happened. The army of Witchers and the knights grew restless. They exchanged glances, seemingly communicating something with their eyes.
Vesemir also looked curiously at Vera, who was being supported by Mary, panting heavily.
"Shield your senses, especially your hearing!"
Allen urged as he pulled his reins closer to the Witcher master. Vesemir hesitated for a moment upon hearing this, opening his mouth: "How did you kno—"
Before he could finish his question…
"Buzz buzz!!!"
The emblem of their school buzzed at an extreme frequency, almost like a swarm of bees. Without finishing the question, the Witcher master snapped his head toward the spirit tide.
At that moment…
The green tide lit up.
Intense red light formed a nearly hundred-meter-wide circle, encircling the spirit tide.
Then.
"Boom!"
A deafening explosion echoed, as if the heavens and earth had shattered. The ground trembled continuously, and the warhorses neighed uneasily. But at that moment, no one paid attention to it.
Everyone was wide-eyed, gaping in astonishment and alarm at the spirit tide.
A massive pillar of fire rose into the sky. The rapid shift in heat distorted the air.
Everything around was painted a fiery red by this giant pillar, and even the gray clouds in the sky seemed about to ignite.
"Ding! Main Mission: [The Specters' Revenge Festival] Exterminate the Spirits (572/1614)"
"Ding! Main Mission: [The Specters' Revenge Festival] Exterminate the Spirits (683/1614)"
"Ding! Main Mission: [The Specters' Revenge Festival] Exterminate the Spirits (732/1614)"
--------------------
Though the intense light made it hard for the Witchers to see the spirits' sudden demise, Allen, upon checking his Witcher Journal, heard the continuous "ding-ding-ding" in his mind, as the main mission count quickly rose.
The Witcher swallowed hard, watching this apocalyptic scene, deepening his understanding of the power associated with the term "Crimson Fox."
Compared to this fire-based spell, Francesca's casting in the underground cave seemed like a mere candle flame.
"Lady Vera is truly powerful!" the Witcher couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.
Around him, many others shared his astonishment at this magical spectacle.
"No wonder she's called the Crimson Fox…" The phrase slipped from everyone's lips almost simultaneously.
"No wonder Lady Vera can wield such fire magic; even basic fire spells are incredibly challenging, as the fire elements are as unruly as wild beasts…" Mary marveled as she approached. "For her to control such an overwhelming amount of fire magic, amplified by the ritual, and cast the Fire Baptism spell…"
While the others could only marvel, Mary, who had recently learned some fire element spells, had a deeper understanding of the difficulty involved.
The ritual could only attract magic from the air. It was challenging enough to only draw fire element magic. When a large amount of magic flowed in, control became immensely difficult—let alone with the notorious fire element.
"Is Fire Baptism that difficult?" the Witcher asked Mary curiously.
"Difficult?" Mary looked at him with a complicated expression, explaining, "According to the classifications of Aretuza or the Council of Mages…"
"The Flame Burst spell I'm learning now is just a novice spell, and it already pushes me to my limits."
"And the Fire Baptism is a master spell, one of the highest-tier spells in the master class, with an entire intermediate level in between."
"Besides…"
Mary glanced at the still-raging pillar of fire from the Fire Baptism.
"This is an enhanced fire element spell, thanks to the ritual."
"Eh~"
With that, Mary sighed.
"All I know now are basic spells like Radiance, Flashing Flame, and Blazing Fire…"
"I wonder when I'll be able to cast a spell as powerful as the Fire Baptism, like Lady Vera."
Is the Fire Baptism really that challenging… The Witcher mused.
"Learning three fire spells in under a month is impressive," Allen said, noticing Mary's discouragement and trying to cheer her up. "You're a genius—you'll master it in no time."
Am I a genius?
Mary glanced at Allen but felt oddly unaffected by the praise.
Learning three fire spells in less than a month and being able to cast them while riding a wildly bucking horse—this wasn't something an ordinary female sorceress could accomplish. For a moment, Mary didn't know how to respond.
"Whoosh~"
Fortunately, just then, the Fire Baptism spell changed again. The pillars of fire gradually dissipated. However, at that moment, the clouds in the sky actually began to burn.
Countless streams of molten, lava-like liquid fell like a fiery rain upon the horde of Wraiths that had just endured a wave of destruction. Instantly, thick smoke rose up, once again blocking everyone's view.
It looked as though a single spell was enough to wipe out all the Wraiths.
Wait…
The Witcher suddenly thought of something.
[Main Quest: The Specters' Revenge Festival- Eliminate Wraiths (1269/1614)]
[Hunting Quest: Wraith II (Defeat Wraiths 0/300)]
The main quest was almost completed.
But if the Wraith horde was completely wiped out, what about his hunting quest?
He hadn't killed a single Wraith yet…
Still, thinking it over, the Witcher realized he was powerless here.
At this point, he couldn't possibly speak up to stop the sorceress from casting a spell to annihilate the Wraiths. Besides, the Fire Baptism spell was already in its final phase, so it probably couldn't be stopped now.
He would just have to find another opportunity later.
With this thought, all the fiery rain in the sky fell.
As the smoke gradually cleared, the Witcher hadn't even had a chance to see what was within it when Vera's voice called out from behind.
"Vesemir, Allen, go and finish off the remaining Wraiths…"
There were still some Wraiths left?
The Witcher paused, glancing at his Witcher's Journal.
[Main Quest: The Specters' Revenge Festival - Eliminate Wraiths (1390/1614)]
224 spirits remaining?
As the smoke dissipated, he could indeed see on the scorched ground a scattered few Wraiths holding lanterns, though most of their forms were faint and unstable. The Witcher turned to look at Vera.
The sorceress gave him a gentle smile.
At that moment, the Witcher had a feeling—she had deliberately left these Wraiths behind.
"Hahaha…" Vesemir let out a hearty laugh, interrupting Allen's thoughts, "Shall we have a little contest to see who can kill the most?"
"Shing~"
The Witcher immediately drew his sword, Balmur, saying, "You won't be able to beat me."
Vesemir's dark gold cat-like eyes, pausing on the plain steel sword for a few seconds, sparked with interest. He didn't think Allen would make the rookie mistake of using a steel sword against Wraiths again.
So…
This Balmur sword must have some special effect against Wraiths.
After Allen killed that one-eyed monster, the sword he wielded seemed to be this Balmur… Vesemir tightened his grip on his silver sword, his curiosity itching unbearably.
"Hahaha~" Vesemir pulled his reins, laughing boldly, "Then let's give it a try!"
"Neighhhhhhh!"
Vesemir spurred his horse, which neighed loudly and dashed forward like a black bolt of lightning toward the remaining two hundred or so Wraiths.
Allen wasn't far behind; as soon as he heard the Witcher master's laughter, he urged his horse forward and charged into the Wraith horde. The two Witchers galloped out almost simultaneously, leaving the elite guards, who had once sworn to die for glory, staring in confusion.
A Witcher soldier holding a specter oil flask looked between the flask and the retreating guards, scratching his head as he asked: "Sir Arthur, do you still need this specter oil?"
Arthur gazed after the Witchers in silence for a long time. Then he turned to look at the weary knights around him and shook his head gently.
"No, just send it back for me."
"Yes, Sir Arthur." The Witcher soldiers turned back, returning to their ranks.
Arthur watched the soldiers retreat and then looked back toward the center of the battlefield. Silent, he seemed to be deep in thought.
"Are we really not going?" one of the knights whispered, coming up quietly, "Didn't we swear to keep our fallen comrades from shame?"
Arthur turned and gave him a look.
"If you want to go, I'll permit it."
The knight laughed awkwardly, quickly replying, "No, I don't want to go… I was just asking…"
"Taking an ally's spoils and glory is no honor," Arthur said softly.
And tonight, so many had died; if one life could be saved, it should be.
"Phew~"
At Arthur's words, the knights let out a quiet sigh of relief, which was surprisingly noticeable due to the number of people doing it all at once. They exchanged glances and then burst into hearty laughter.
Indeed, though unafraid of death, given the choice…
If they could live well, who would choose death?
Still…
Two hundred Wraiths was quite a number, yet none of the knights thought that the two Witchers would be in danger.
In fact, many of them began to excitedly debate whether Vesemir or Allen would claim victory.
Some even started a betting pool.
Others who weren't interested in betting glanced knowingly at Mary, who was still standing frozen, murmuring about a "May Festival King," a "May Festival Queen," and the beauty of youth. And then there were those who gazed up at the sky, as if they could see their fallen comrades, laughing and toasting to their soon-to-be victory.
As for the two Witchers at the center of everyone's attention, they reached the battlefield just then.
Vesemir wasn't in any rush to begin a slaughter; he kept his eyes fixed on Allen's Balmur sword. Allen, full of confidence, aimed for a Wraith that looked relatively intact, spurred his horse, and sped up…
"Whoosh~"
The blade sliced through the air with a bang. Both men's gazes focused on the point of impact.
In the next moment, the notched sword blade landed on the Wraith's right arm.
"Thud~"
Allen's eyes widened in shock.
Balmur, behaving like an ordinary steel sword, was deflected by a thin layer of magic that seemed to have a rubbery texture the moment it struck the Wraith.
"Shing~"
Vesemir reacted quickly, cutting down the Wraith in a burst of sparks. Then he looked at Allen in confusion, glancing down at the plain steel sword…
The legendary sword of the hero Zartret Voruta…
Was that it?
"Shing~"
Feeling the questioning gaze of the Witcher master beside him, Allen snapped out of his surprise, calmly sheathed the sword, and drew his specter oil-coated sword, Elsa.
Without acknowledging Vesemir's look, he silently charged toward another Wraith. Remembering his earlier boasts before departure, he curled his toes in his boots in embarrassment, though no one could see.
"Shing~"
"Shing~"
"Shing~"
In the ambiguous silence, hundreds of green sparks bloomed outside Ellander City. After two bottles of specter oil each and several charges…
"Ding!"
[Demon Horde Leader'One-Eyed Wraith' Exterminated!]
[Reward Settlement: …]
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281. Ellander's Funeral.
282. A Commission of One Oren.
283. Divine Dreamwalking.
284. Unboxing.
285. The Behemoth Snare and Battle Roar of the Cyclopean Clan.