The Divine Hunter Chapter 632: Clash

Tor Lara. Gull's Tower. This edifice, a relic of ancient elves, occupied the highest elevation on Thanedd. Following the conclusion of their deliberations, the assembled witchers reconvened in the clearing before this structure, their attention drawn to a xenovox emitting a blue luminescence.

"Enid, while I comprehend your desire to shield the children from the ravages of war and death, you must not betray Emhyr. Your agreement to aid these individuals against the Aen Elle was a mistake," a voice emanated from the xenovox. The speaker was a red-haired sorceress, situated within a cave, adorned in exquisite attire and jewelry. She shifted her head, causing the amber and pearl necklaces adorning her chest to sway and shimmer.

"Ida Emean, Aen Saevherne of the Blue Mountains, your counsel has always held my respect. Please, elaborate," Francesca responded.

"An assembly comprising over a hundred higher vampires and two dozen witchers possesses the might to destabilize the entire world. Should you choose, you could safeguard the Aen Seidhe from a vengeful Emhyr and even seize control of Dol Blathanna." Ida gently stroked the feline companion nestled on her lap, her gaze sweeping over the witchers before the display. "However, confronting the Wild Hunt is a battle you cannot possibly win."

The obsidian cat flicked its tail and let out a soft mew, seemingly in agreement with its mistress.

"That is mere rhetoric intended to intimidate," Ivar declared, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "For centuries, the Viper School has engaged the Wild Hunt on numerous occasions. I am well aware of their capabilities. Individually, their warriors are on par with our own, and they lack a numerical advantage. Furthermore, the witcher schools of today are vastly superior to those of the past. We possess armaments, equipment, and alchemical concoctions far more potent than anything previously available."

"The Wild Hunt you encountered previously were mere phantoms and projections, barely capable of traversing the dimensional rifts to reach this realm," Ida stated calmly. "They were operating at half their true strength. This time, however, you will face the Wild Hunt in its entirety. Moreover, you must recall that the Wild Hunt mastered magic millennia before humankind. They have thoroughly explored and honed their abilities to command chaos energy. In terms of sheer magical potency, the sorcerer brotherhood pales in comparison, akin to a child’s grasp, but that is not the most terrifying aspect."

Ida knelt, releasing her cat. Her attention then shifted to the swirling sea of bats behind the witchers. "They wield forbidden powers that this world cannot tolerate. Once unleashed in their full capacity, escape becomes impossible. Not even the most powerful higher vampires, nor even dragons, can withstand its effects."

"Are you referring to the White Frost?" Roy inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"The fact that you are aware of this ultimate cataclysm indicates your understanding that it cannot be opposed," the elven sage replied, adjusting the hair framing her neck. "Rather than providing you with a waypoint only for you to perish in vain, I shall contact Avallac'h, the Aen Saevherne of the Wild Hunt, and act as an intermediary. We can pursue a peaceful resolution. Francesca and I will endeavor to reconcile the animosities and divergent interests that exist between your factions."

The elven queen directed a meaningful glance towards Roy. The witcher offered a faint smile and a shake of his head. He then turned his gaze to Ida. "Can you persuade the Wild Hunt to abandon their pursuit of the Elder Blood?"

"That is an impossibility!" Ida exclaimed, as if stung. "Unless Eredin, the ambitious general of the Wild Hunt, is vanquished, they will relentlessly strive to reassert their former glory. Could you perhaps propose an alternative request?"

"Can you compel the Wild Hunt to grovel and offer an apology to my school?" A gaunt man with an elongated face leaned closer to the xenovox. Ivar's pupils had narrowed to mere slits. With a voice laced with profound hatred, he hissed, "These scoundrels who swarm like jackdaws, cawing incessantly, must be made to pay for abducting and corrupting witchers of the Viper School. For the lives they have stolen from this world. For the terror and devastation they have sown. I bid farewell to my old comrades and relinquished my chance at a perfect existence solely to exact retribution upon those wretched beings myself."

Letho, Auckes, and Serrit stood in silent solidarity behind Ivar.

"The vanquishing of the Wild Hunt is the ultimate aspiration of our lives."

Ida let out a wearisome sigh, a flicker of resignation crossing her features. "My apologies, Enid. My apologies to all. I detest complications. This matter now lies beyond my influence. All I can offer is my sincere wish for your good fortune. And one final point regarding the Elder Blood..."

The xenovox screen flickered erratically, becoming unstable. Ida's message was abruptly cut off, and the display vanished into thin air. A violent surge of chaos energy pulsed through the area, causing the witchers' medallions to vibrate intensely.

Flashes of lightning rent the seemingly clear skies, and fierce winds whipped the sea surface into waves. In an instant, a blur descended from above, landing squarely in Roy's arms. Ciri looked up, her face streaked with tears. Nestled within her blue hunting attire was a small head. Her rain-soaked hair clung to her like that of a bedraggled kitten. The girl managed a weak grin at Roy.

"Ciri? Eileni? What happened? Why did you rush here?"

"Roy, Geralt, Yennefer." Ciri choked back sobs. "They've arrived. My loyal guard was slain!"

"Calm yourself, child." Yennefer's violet hair danced in the wind. She tenderly wiped Ciri's tears and retrieved the wheezing Eileni from Ciri's tunic, then passed the infant to Roy. "We are all here now. No one will lay a hand on you."

"But they came. The spectral knights."

"You mean the Wild Hunt? They killed Cahir?" A wave of dread washed over Roy.

"Indeed, the Wild Hunt is upon us."

"People, I placed my trust in the sage. We are no match for the Wild Hunt." Francesca clasped her hands over her stomach. In a pleading tone, she implored, "We must retreat to the Blue Mountains and prepare for this approaching menace."

"Blood demands retribution!" Ivar tilted his head towards the heavens. "And it is far too late to flee now. They are already here."

***

Flashes of lightning split the sky. Tor Lara and Garstang were momentarily visible under the intense glare. The weary mages within the palace were drawn to the peculiar phenomenon. A shimmering rift, like a writhing serpent, materialized in the expanse between the heavens and the sea. An atmosphere of unease and dread permeated the air. A disquiet settled over the swarm of bats accompanying Roy, and an unsettling melody drifted on the wind.

A trail of will-o'-the-wisps flickered into existence, revealing the fiery hooves of charging steeds. Astride these mounts were knights clad in dark, imposing armor, their presence as chilling as specters.

"The Wild Hunt!" Gerhart exclaimed. Stationed in Garstang, he cautioned, "Be vigilant, everyone."

"Those fiends never dared appear at Aretuza before, so why now?" Philippa shivered. "Dawn has barely broken. It is too early for them to be weaving nightmares."

"This is an ill omen. The coming conflict signals a devastating catastrophe," Sigismund declared, his voice strained with apprehension.

"No. Observe their trajectory. The Wild Hunt is targeting the witchers at Tor Lara." Adda turned, instructing the knight beside her, "The witchers aided Temeria in apprehending our traitors. They must not face this threat alone. Offer them assistance."

"Understood, Your Highness." Grimm inhaled deeply, his face contorting with barely suppressed excitement. The Wild Hunt, a legendary force associated with ruin and war, presented an ideal trial for his blade.

"Do the witchers not possess allies among the higher vampires? We are of little consequence; we might as well observe the unfolding events."

The captive sorcerer, having endured a night of terror, harbored only scorn for the witchers. While they might not retaliate against the monster hunters, they were content to withhold their aid.

"I do not appreciate their disregard for our standing either, yet they prevented the disbandment of our brotherhood. They rendered us a significant service." Tissaia spoke curtly, her jaw tight. "And the Wild Hunt represents the most malevolent force in existence. We cannot permit them to desecrate our sacred realm of magic. Volunteers, accompany me."

***

Bolts of lightning crisscrossed the sky. Approximately twenty knights thundered through the air, landing decisively on the precipice, their gazes fixed on the distant witchers. Ferocious eyes met the cold stares beneath their skeletal masks. Fierce winds howled, amplifying the palpable tension.

Ivar swiftly uncorked his decoctions, downing three vials in rapid succession. Dark veins surged across his face. Letho and Auckes followed suit, while the rest, including a bewildered Francesca, turned their attention to Roy.

Roy's brow furrowed. The sudden appearance of the Wild Hunt after their prolonged absence had disrupted his plans. He raised his hand, and the swarm of bats ascended above everyone, swirling and screeching. It resembled a dark, turbulent cloud bank illuminated by flashes of crimson lightning.

The Wild Hunt responded to the challenge. A whistle and a roar echoed. The Red Riders advanced slowly toward the witchers. Leading the charge was a colossal figure adorned with a horned helmet and a skeletal mask, mounted on a dark-brown steed that bore a resemblance to an earth dragon. Its metallic barding was embellished with intricate patterns of golden scales. Beneath the ribcage-shaped armor lay another layer of black, scaled protection. The jagged pauldrons on the knight's shoulders soared high into the air, and from his ornate buckle, a magnificent two-handed sword extended so low that it almost brushed the ground.

'Eredin Breacc Glas

Status: Commander of the Red Riders, Child of the Elder Blood

HP: 300

Mana: 200

Strength: 33

Dexterity: 33

Constitution: 35

Perception: 15

Will: 13

Charisma: 10

Spirit: 20

Skills:

Greatsword Mastery Level 10: Eredin is a grandmaster swordsman.

Elder Blood (Decoy): During his research on the gate with Avallac'h, Eredin utilized the expedition's findings to pilfer a segment of the Elder Blood. He possesses the ability to execute short-range teleports within a limited timeframe.

Glory of the Red Riders: When battling alongside his Wild Hunt warriors, Eredin experiences a statistical enhancement of up to 30%.

White Frost (Passive): Through prolonged combat with the White Frost, Eredin's physique underwent subtle alterations. He now possesses the ability to, to a degree, wield the White Frost for offensive purposes against his adversaries. Any foe within a specific proximity to him suffers erosion from the very power of the White Frost, resulting in diminished speed and reaction times until complete petrification occurs. Furthermore, he can consciously channel this power to freeze his targets down to their very souls, extinguishing their life force.

'

***

"Vatt'ghern! (Put down your weapons, witchers!)" Eredin proclaimed, raising his hands as he removed his skeletal mask, unveiling a pale, finely-chiseled elven visage. He then turned his attention towards the girl glaring at him from within Yennefer's embrace. "Quezireael! (Hand over the swallow, and your lives shall be spared!)"

His commanding, haughty, and self-important tone ignited a blaze of fury within the witchers' bosoms.

Murderous intent flared in their gazes.

Roy gestured, and an immense swarm of bats descended upon the knights, resembling a tempestuous black storm.

***

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