Published at 14th of November 2023 2:22 am

Chapter 573: Salvation

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

Within the bizarre, fluorescent garden, a translucent, screaming, evil spirit was held in the air by a sea of tentacles. The tentacles unleashed crimson beams, scorching the spirit like acid, and black smoke billowed.

The spirit’s face was contorted in pain, blinking like malfunctioning lamps. Sometimes it would morph into an even more bizarre visage. The face had no mouth or nose, and its eyes were filled with cunning and evil, much like a demon.

The witchers tried to attack it with their blades and weapons. Their attacks engulfed it, and yet they passed through it, hitting nothing but air. This thing was untouchable, much like a phantom. Roy’s tentacles flailed and tore away at the spirit, but it couldn’t destroy it.

‘Spirit of repentance

Age: ?

Status: The fusion of datt and the grandmaster of genetic modification, Ortolan.’

***

Roy paused for a moment. Ortolan the sorcerer. The man who married someone in Hindarsfjall. He, in a bid to save his wife and child, turned his body into a cage and imprisoned an evil spirit called datt. From the crystal’s footage, Roy saw that he came seeking sanctuary from Idarran. He sought true destruction of his body, mind, and soul. So how did he end up like this?

The effects of Fear came to an end. The tentacles slithered away like water going back into the sea. The evil spirit screeched and disappeared into the air, hiding somewhere.

***

“How do you feel, Vesemir?”

The tormented witcher took a deep breath, and his chest ballooned, then it fell back. “Damn it all. I never knew I made so many unforgivable mistakes.” He looked at everyone and laughed at himself, his wrinkles loosening up, but he was still drenched in sweat and shuddering from the experience. “My insides felt so guilty, they started destroying themselves.”

With a trembling hand, he wiped the blood off and grabbed the hand that was about to hold his teleportation crystal. “Things aren’t that desperate yet, Geralt. This is a minor injury. I can still hold on.”

Geralt sighed, and Lambert shook his head. “You’re acting tough, old man. Your legs are shaking like you just came out of messing with a woman for three days.”

“Then it’s all fine. I can last five days at least.” Vesemir popped open a bottle of Swallow and gulped it down. Color returned to his face. He then pushed everyone’s hands away and stood up, wobbling a little. The veteran witcher worked his limbs, and his joints cracked.

Everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief. Letho and Kiyan quickly circled their comrades. They gestured and chanted, then a circle made of specter dust and infused dust appeared on the ground, shining like a sacred shield, keeping the group safe.

“Brilliant performance, but it’s not enough. The spirit is still around you, seeking its next target,” the voice spoke.

“You’re not bad yourself, controlling an evil spirit. Those are the deadliest and most mysterious beings. It felt a lot stronger than any hym,” Kalkstein praised, stroking his beard, and he looked around.

“And you exceeded my expectations.” There was surprise and wariness in the voice. “A mere witcher, injuring a formless spirit. It’s one of my most prized creations.”

A pause later, the voice lamented, “That flash of light must’ve been the ability given to you by the shard, Roy. It’s just like a double-edged sword.”

Roy scanned the air beyond the circle, trying to catch the spirit’s trails, but it was formless and couldn’t be tracked. “Did your experiments kill off your humanity, Idarran? I thought you’d free Ortolan of his misery and blast him off with your red light, but you captured your best friend and turned him into a monster. You kept him caged in this blasted form and bound him to his personal hell.”

“Hm?” From within the darkness that disgusted Roy, the voice said, “You know a lot, kid.”

Roy mocked, “The grandmasters and your mentor cleansed Mayena of its sins with the flames of the red light. They should’ve cleansed you too, you disgusting, perverted freak. Oh wait, don’t tell me the justice they seek is nothing but a mask?”

“Silence! Do not insult my teacher! You know nothing!” The voice turned furious and adamant. “The highest honor for a grandmaster of genetic modification is to be as one with their creation. All I did was grant Ortolan his wish. And it’s two birds with one stone. His wish was granted, and his family is no longer disturbed. They can live their lives out as normal humans.”

“Bullshit,” Auckes retorted sardonically.

“Suit yourself. Now enjoy the show, fools. You shall pay for your choice.”

“Shut it, you pervert!” Coral roared in fury and pointed at the darkness in the depths of the garden. As she chanted her spell, the air started vibrating, and the scent of ozone rose.

A burst of blinding lightning charged ahead into the darkness, then the witchers cast their Signs, colorful triangles shining in the air.

Then the elements followed. Kalkstein extended his right arm, and a spherical bomb flew out of his sleeve.

A short earthquake later, the vines fell and withered. Fruits, bushes, and grass burst into smithereens. The walls were broken and cracked, oozing green blood. The roaring explosions, screaming winds, and blinding light crushed a part of the fluorescent, swaying plants, burning them into cinders.

Like an attacked animal, the garden sucked the plants on its skin into its cavity, hiding them. Replacing the plants were the walls’ inner skin, crimson and filled with fibrous wrinkles. Just like that, the dreamlike garden was turned into a bloody, fleshy hell. The witchers were like food trapped within a towering monster’s belly.

A howl of agony echoed in the air, but not even an attack of this magnitude could affect Idarran. He harrumphed, and a surge of black light came forth. The circle around the group burned brightly. A humanoid cloud of smoke appeared out of thin air. The spirit of repentance dragged its obsidian tail and crashed into the protective circle. A patch of red light shone as it came into contact with the barrier.

The barrier was crushed. The creature hurtled past the blades and flames, screaming as it pounced at Coral.

Coral was horrified. She could feel doom closing in on her, and she quickly gestured with both hands. A wave of magical blue light burst forth from underneath her dress. It surrounded her, forming a blue shield.

Someone acted faster, however. Roy stood before her. He took a deep breath and let out a shout.

Fus!

A violent air current rampaged ahead, an invisible ring of sound waves crushing the air. The gale billowed everyone’s hair and clothes.

A screeching sonic boom coursed through the battlefield, and the spirit froze. A blast of energy pierced it, keeping it still. The Shout tore the spirit in half and hurled it at the walls, but the two halves quickly merged back, and the spirit hissed in fear before it hid itself again. It was already like a small sliver of smoke before it left. One little gust of wind, and it might be gone. No longer was it as odious as before.

The voice clicked its tongue. “I’ve underestimated you, Roy. That attack can destroy souls. Voice magic? That’s not something the shard could’ve given you. You gained a new power in your exile?”

A bolt flew through the air, but vines shot up from the ground and drowned it.

“Alright, that’s enough. At this rate, you’ll destroy a lot of my creations. I’ve run out of patience, so let’s end this.”

Something popped. Idarran seemed to have opened a bottle. The cork fell to the ground. At the edge of everyone’s vision, a red cloud of smoke started to beat like a heart. In the end, the smoke coalesced into something resembling a sphere, floating in the air.

Roy felt his temples throbbing, and a suffocating sense of danger filled his heart. What happened in Cintra’s castle was going to repeat itself.

“Look out!” He crushed the teleportation crystal and triggered its magic. Winds howled, and a portal appeared before him.

“Silint (Silent)!” Idarran uttered a word. A simple Elder Speech phrase, but it was filled with incredible magic, as if the gods themselves were ordering the world to carry out their orders.

All the elements in this battlefield were changed into the element of air. The witchers who bore their weapons, the sorcerers who controlled chaos energy, and even Roy were caught by the great surge of air. They stopped moving, but the looks on their faces were solemn. They couldn’t lift a finger, blink, or even breathe. The magical energy within them could not even flow.

The portal disappeared. It was as if a gigantic hand had put a pause on the time in this garden. All the group could do was watch as the beating sphere finally showed its true form. It had a tilted head about six-feet big. The creature had no nose, but it had big eyes and a beak. Arcs of lightning danced within its ethereal, cloudy body.

This was a djinn in its full form. The air elemental of the elemental planes, and it was open for wishes.

***

The djinn floated in midair, twirling its blue-black claws, spinning a web of air as it closed in on the group. Something was controlling it. There was fury and dismay in its eyes. There was a storm within its eyes, but it had to follow Idarran’s orders, so the djinn vented its fury on the humans before it.

“Exblo, hed (Explode head),” Idaraan said cruelly.

The djinn extended its claws at the group like a reaper taking away its victim.

Everyone’s heart thumped. They turned red, and moans escaped their throats. Their cheeks bloated and ballooned. Blood seeped out of their pores, and their faces contorted.

Then, three witchers’ heads exploded, blood, bones, and brains flying everywhere. They fell, their limbs twitching.

***

Roy roared in rage, blood spilling out of his eyes, and a stream of crimson flames surged around him. A crimson tentacle tore the space behind him open and came wriggling out, flailing in the air. Countless tentacles danced on the walls, and something shattered. Roy broke free of his bondage. His face was red, his veins contorted and bulging. Behind the crimson tentacle, a river filled with light appeared. It was the stars that shone brightly above. A river of stars. Every star represented a point in time.

Roy’s Elder Blood raced within his veins, and the silver river flowed backward. Starlight shone upon the dead witchers. Like puppets pulled by strings, the bodies of the witchers, astoundingly, stood back up, but their arms were limp. The blood, flesh, bones flew back to the bodies, forming their skulls. In what felt like an eternity, the witchers’ heads were reformed. Three souls that gleamed with mysterious lights were chased back from the corners and returned to their rightful bodies.

The witchers opened their eyes, but there was confusion in them. This change, although complicated, happened in less than a fraction of a second.

***

Idarran couldn’t make his third wish in time.

***

Fear. Crimson light danced around Roy. The dancing tentacles appeared in the air, wrapping up the spirit before it could attack. They pulled on the spirit and tore it. Then they did it again. After the third tear, the spirit couldn’t stay corporeal anymore. It was torn into little pieces and scattered across the air. The tentacles’ suckers wolfed down the spirit’s shards, gobbling them up.

A man in his forties in a grey, scholarly robe appeared in the air behind them. He had short, gold hair, and his eyes twinkled with wisdom. A well-kept mustache surrounded the man’s lips. He looked like a gentlemanly professor from afar. The man bowed deeply at Roy. There was relief in his eyes.

And Ortolan’s soul was no more.

‘Spirit of repentance engulfed. +1000 EXP. Level 13 Witcher (19000/14500).’

***

The hidden Idarran couldn’t bask in the awe of Roy reviving the dead and killing the evil spirit all at once. He quickly shot his third word at the bound witchers.

“Ver (Shapeshift)!”

As soon as he finished uttering the word, the djinn swiped its claws at the group once more, and magic boiled in the air.

A bolt hurtled across the battlefield. Roy teleported toward the djinn. It felt like he’d entered a field filled with storms. The young witcher brought Aerondight down and sent a crimson energy beam ahead.

The witcher’s interference stopped the djinn’s casting, and it quickly defended itself. A web of lightning bolts burst forth from its ethereal form and cut down the energy beam, then it covered the witcher.

Electricity sizzled. Heliotrop absorbed some of the lightning, but most charged into Roy’s body, and his hair stood on end. His face was charred from the attack, but there was still determination in his eyes.

Activate.

A wave of magical energy healed his charred body back to its best form. Roy’s Elder Blood raged once more, and a gash tore the air open. A diamond-shaped Worldgate appeared behind the djinn.

Roy swung his blade. A black dragon appeared behind the witcher, glaring at the djinn. As Roy swung his blade, the dragon swiped its claw away at the djinn and smacked it.

Winds howled. The air was screaming from the force of the attack. Even the djinn, that was immune to most physical attacks, floated backward and entered the Worldgate.

The ghost of its last lightning bolt flickered in the air and faded along with it.

The witchers and sorcerers trembled, then they heaved a collective sigh of relief. They’d regained their freedom.

“Where’s my third wish? What’d you do to the djinn, kid?” Idarran demanded furiously, shivering in rage. “Why can’t I sense it anymore? You’re all going to die!”

The flesh-like chamber rumbled. The creature had awoken.

***

***

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