The Divine Hunter Chapter 633: Fierce Battle

Thanedd stood like a colossal pillar emerging from the ocean's expanse, adorned with intricate ziggurats, winding staircases, verdant gardens, palatial structures, and soaring towers. Before the pinnacle of this architectural marvel, the tower known as Tor Lara, a witcher raised a hand.

A tempest of darkness surged forth, a churning sea that consumed the sunlight descending from above. This abyssal mass hurtled towards the Red Riders assembled on the cleared ground, moving with blinding velocity. The events that had transpired once before in Aretuza were replaying themselves upon the Red Riders. Caught completely unaware, they and their mounts were engulfed, the shadowy clouds lifting them bodily into the air.

***

Observing from a distance, the witchers remained gripped by a palpable unease. Tension hung heavy in the air. The persistent, unusual buzzing of their medallions amplified their disquiet. They produced several decoctions, swallowing them in hurried gulps. Veins of black began to snake across their countenances.

Roy swiftly executed a series of complex hand gestures, invoking the Sign of Clamp, which manifested as a crimson double cross. His frost atronach, the mutated longhorn, and an illusory duplicate of himself materialized.

Exultant cries pierced the atmosphere. The Gryphon, returning after a significant absence, soared into view, its wings beating with palpable joy. It swished its shaggy tail, circling high above its master's head. Suddenly, the very mountains seemed to tremble as Leviathan, the colossal ice giant, descended before the assembled forces. It wielded a massive oak tree in one hand, simultaneously slamming its chest, which was adorned with armor fashioned from rope and weathered wooden planks. A prominent cyst on its head, swollen with blood, pulsed with a crimson glow. The giant unleashed a deafening roar that echoed towards the heavens.

Meanwhile, Triss, Coral, and Yennefer recited their incantations, weaving a protective barrier for the younger attendees. A shield of shimmering blue, oval in shape, materialized just as the witchers' foreboding omens materialized into a terrifying reality.

Bolts of lightning thundered down, and serpentine streaks of silver tore across the sky, catalyzing a storm of blinding intensity. This tempest crashed upon the sea of bats, submerging the mountain clearing in a veritable ocean of light. The sheer brilliance of the flash nearly incapacitated all observers, and the acrid scent of ozone permeated the air.

The luminous onslaught lasted mere moments, yet the sea of bats was already succumbing to the intense heat, beginning to bubble. They plummeted downwards, plumes of smoke billowing into the atmosphere, their forms reduced to tattered black silhouettes. They were covered in horrific blisters and severe burns. Some bore deep lacerations, with residual heat and crackling purple electricity surging through their ravaged bodies.

The formidable regenerative capabilities of the higher vampires proved utterly insufficient, their wounds too grievous to overcome, leading to their swift unconsciousness. The spell, imbued with a power akin to forbidden sorcery, sliced through the dark swarm of bats as a radiant, runic blade. Biting winds emanated from the blade's edge, transforming the atmospheric vapor into delicate blossoms of frost. These icy flowers enveloped the cloaked figures, encasing them instantly into frozen statues, which then crumbled and fell.

Eredin, accompanied by four of his Red Riders, reappeared, suspended in mid-air, their appearance marked by exhaustion. Their once-gleaming armor bore numerous dents, and their eyes burned with lethal intent. Of the original twenty Red Riders, three-quarters had been eliminated, their mounts reduced to mangled carcasses. Knights and their steeds lay strewn amongst the frozen effigies and the charred remains of the higher vampires.

With the complete annihilation of the higher vampires in a single, devastating blow, the Wild Hunt had sustained a loss exceeding fifty percent of its formidable numbers. The witchers exchanged glances filled with sheer horror.

"Damn you all!" Eredin bellowed in rage.

Roy retaliated with a precisely loosed arrow. The taut string of his bow vibrated, and the projectile streaked through the air. Eredin raised his immense greatsword defensively, its inherent magic successfully deflecting Roy's arrow. However, a swirling gust of wind assailed him, and the silver-eyed figure materialized seemingly from nowhere, his face contorted and etched with dark veins.

He hoisted his ivory blade aloft, then brought it crashing down towards Eredin's face. The air shrieked with the impact, and a blinding flash of white light arced through the sky. Jagged crimson energy and the potent Magma Quen coalesced around Roy, swirling like a miniature crimson sun. The expansive suckers of an immense octopus unfurled, its tentacles latching onto Roy's shoulder, and the monstrous cephalopod launched its attack.

***

Eredin's very soul perceived an unprecedented level of danger emanating from the assault. The fiercely dancing flames contained within them the essence of death and utter destruction, causing him to momentarily cease breathing. He had never felt such trepidation, not even in the face of the White Frost itself.

He ceased holding anything back. An aura of white frost spiraled outwards from Eredin's weapon and armor, conjuring a formidable barrage of icicles in the air. These icy projectiles charged forward, aimed at the divine image, the crimson energy beam, and the oncoming Aerondight.

The ensuing clash between frost and flame was cataclysmic. The icicles shattered into dust, and the flames were extinguished. Both Eredin and Roy were frozen in mid-air. The king of the Wild Hunt stood aghast, the effects of Fear rendering him immobile, a visible crack now spanning the entirety of his mask from top to bottom. Eredin's face was a mask of pure terror and horrified disbelief.

Roy found himself encased in a thick layer of frost, from his head to his toes. The bone-chilling cold sent shivers through every fiber of his being. His movements became agonizingly stiff, akin to a rusted automaton, and the flow of mana within him was slower than sludge traversing a rugged, rocky landscape. To compound his predicament, the pervasive frost began to infiltrate his very soul. Every ability intricately linked to his spiritual essence was frozen and sealed, utterly unresponsive to his desperate commands.

A mere instant passed, and the knight with the ringed helmet, positioned behind Eredin, emitted a strange cry. He swung his staff, which resembled a tower, unleashing a bolt of azure lightning. Roy, who was struggling to manifest Gabriel, found himself unable to react in time to fire his weapon. He was propelled backward by ten yards, as if struck by a siege engine.

The standoff shattered. Eredin tugged on his reins, his greatsword whirling. Caranthir mirrored his action, and together they charged the witcher. The very air seemed to warp around them.

The instant the combatants met, they vanished from sight. Gleams of silver and vibrant Signs converged, forming a lethal spear that hurtled toward the remaining Riders.

Leviathan occupied the front lines, with the veteran witchers advancing behind it. The sorceresses and the younger women remained in the formation's center, while the novice witchers were positioned at the rear. High above, Gryphon patrolled the skies.

Suddenly, a rift tore open in the air. A conical battering ram emerged from the portal and impacted Leviathan's chest. The sheer force drove through its armor, its icy-blue flesh, and its robust bones. The heart of the ice giant was pierced, and the ram forced it backward a considerable distance.

The ground convulsed, leaving two deep ravines, which were then quickly filled with torrents of blood. Leviathan bellowed in agony, its massive hands gripping the sides of the vessel. Its muscles bulged with immense power as the colossal being attempted to rip the ship asunder.

The Hounds of the Wild Hunt, each as large as a calf, ascended Leviathan's form via the ram. They moved with startling agility, snarling and expelling gusts of frost. Despite its affinity for the cold, Leviathan could not withstand the White Frost, and it was swiftly encased in a layer of ice. The ice giant's movements became sluggish, akin to a malfunctioning timepiece. It managed to dislodge several Hounds from its body, shattering them underfoot into fragments of ice.

Ultimately, the giant's roars ceased, its ruby eyes dimming, losing their vibrant glow. It then froze solid, transforming into an ornamental figurehead for the vessel.

***

A shadow soared through the sky. Gryphon shrieked as it dived toward a Hound. It seized the formidable creature and ascended high into the atmosphere.

The griffin then relinquished its grip. The Hound plummeted, shattering upon impact like glass. However, a wave of Hounds and Red Riders leaped from the dark vessel, engaging the witchers in fierce combat.

***

Ivar executed a roll, narrowly avoiding the frigid breath of a Hound. The grandmaster circled behind the beast, launching himself into the air like an eagle. He descended amidst a flurry of icicles, bringing his sword down with precision, the blade effortlessly slicing through the Hound's nape. The creature howled in helplessness before collapsing into a heap of ice.

Before Ivar could even savor a moment of relief, he sensed a gust of wind approaching from behind. The seasoned Viper spun around, evading the ambuscade just in the nick of time. He unleashed a blast of Aard, sending a knight of the Wild Hunt hurtling into a pool of blood. He raised his sword once more, leaping into the air and driving the weapon downward with savage force.

The soldier rolled to evade the descending blade. As he regained his footing, he swiftly conjured a golden barrier of Quen around himself. He then twirled his elven-made shortsword, his movements a fluid dance around the elder Viper. Ivar recognized the style. "You are..."

He met the amber eyes beneath the helm and observed the vibrating medallion adorning the knight's chest. It pulsed like a viper poised to strike its prey. This was indeed a Viper. One of Ivar's own kin, taken captive.

Perceiving the unfolding situation, Letho, Auckes, and Serrit advanced over the fallen Hounds, positioning themselves alongside Ivar. Three knights of the Wild Hunt, all bearing Viper medallions, joined the fray.

"Time to bring these lost boys home, lads."

Silver light streaked through the air. The Vipers charged towards their adversaries. Their former brethren.

***

Vesemir executed a pirouette, his blade held ready. He feinted before swiftly slashing at a soldier's chest. The plate armor was as impenetrable as a fortress. Vesemir's strike, capable of crushing ordinary bones, merely left a mark on the metal.

The soldier retaliated, bringing his weapon toward the old man's neck. However, he underestimated the agility of a witcher who had partaken in decoctions. Vesemir crouched low, sliding beneath the arc of the blades. He spun his weapon, embedding it into the soldier's underarm, piercing the flesh exposed between the armor joints. The sword emerged from the soldier's neck on the other side.

Blood erupted. The soldier grunted, his eyes widening in shock. With his final reserves of strength, he unleashed a wave of frost towards Vesemir's back.

Sensing the imminent threat, Vesemir quickly released his weapon and shifted away, but he was a moment too late. The frost had instantly frozen his left arm, rendering half his body numb. A bone-chilling ice coursed through Vesemir's indomitable will. The veteran witcher staggered, gasping sharply. For a fleeting moment, his consciousness began to wane.

With swift claws slicing through the air, three Hounds lunged at Vesemir from behind and the sides, aiming for his throat and lower back. Suddenly, a powerful current of magical air struck the ground like a falling meteor, sending out undulating waves. The Hounds were violently thrown backward.

"Can you still manage?" Geralt retracted his Sign and scanned his surroundings. Lambert and Eskel were engaged in a dangerous, intricate fight, fending off a trio of assailants.

"Be wary of the White Frost," Vesemir declared, gripping his sword with both hands and regaining his stance defiantly, though his voice and teeth trembled uncontrollably. "It poses a greater threat than any higher vampire."

***

The battleground was a scene of utter chaos. Similar large-scale engagements unfolded across the area. The witchers found themselves battling the frost emanating from the Wild Hunt. Geralt, Felix, and the veteran witchers, leveraging their sword skills, Sign power, and defensive decoctions, managed to vanquish their foes despite their weakened state. The younger witchers, however, were forced to coordinate with Roy's forces in a defensive formation at the rear.

***

Carl and Monti, recognized as the most adept among the younger witchers, maneuvered around a formidable, mobile fortress. With swift movements, they applied two dollops of a clay-like substance onto the knight's formidable armor. They then rapidly retreated and unleashed a torrent of flames upon the knight before them.

A towering pillar of fire ascended into the heavens, causing the earth to tremble. A cloud of dust billowed upwards, and a deep crater marked the ground. The knight, his armor included, was reduced to fragments of flesh and shattered steel.

Carl and Monti exhaled in relief and then brushed the gruesome remnants from their faces.

Abruptly, fierce gusts of icy wind assaulted them as Hounds sprang from the shadows, their breath a chilling frost.

Two bolts of crackling purple electricity streaked through the air, searing it. A pair of scorched lines etched themselves across the ground. Stunned by the electrocution, the Hounds collapsed, only to be consumed by a wave of roaring flames.

"Stay alert, youngsters. Exercise caution and avoid recklessness," Sabrina commanded, her fiery whip lashing out, causing a Hound to stumble. Flames surged skyward, accompanied by plumes of smoke. Sabrina's fiery hair billowed around her, lending her an almost divine appearance. "You wouldn't want your mentors to be officiating your funerals."

Philippa extended her arms, her dress swirling in the wind, and unleashed a flock of enraged owls that shot from her attire, darting through the air and striking at the knights' exposed eyes.

Tissaia, along with Radcliffe, Cadouin, Keira, and over twenty other mages, followed suit, their expressions solemn. They unleashed a barrage of magic upon the Wild Hunt.

***

At the heart of the battlefield, where Ciri and Eileni were ostensibly safe, a bone-chilling voice resonated within the ears of the sorceresses. "It seems there is more than one child of the Elder Blood. This is a miracle that destiny did not foresee. I see..."

Avallac'h materialized without warning, clad in garments adorned with intricate embroidery. He hovered in mid-air, his gaze shifting from Ciri to the young Eileni cradled in her arms. The girl blinked.

The very air turned frigid.

***

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