Fifteen minutes later, a combination of coercion and urgency finally got the Witchers to stow their Gwent cards.
They then methodically organized their equipment, downed their potions, applied specialized sword oils, brewed decoctions using monster mutagenic agents, and hung an assortment of magic bombs around their waists, ensuring quick access to crucial items during the impending battle.
Zelin drank a bottle of Cat-Eye Potion. This potent elixir granted Witchers the ability to see as clearly in the dark as they would in broad daylight.
Despite the full moon, dark clouds blanketed the sky, casting an eerie pall over the abandoned castle.
The swaying, withered trees and overgrown weeds resembled ghostly apparitions, making it clear that sharp vision would be a decisive advantage in whatever lay ahead.
In the castle courtyard, the five powerful Mages and the five Witchers paired up and formed a fan - shaped formation at a 60 - degree angle around the fortress tower gate, all facing the courtyard's center.
Zelin chose to stand beside Francesca. Among the Mages, he felt more at ease with someone he had some prior acquaintance with, rather than the other four Mages, who were complete strangers to him.
Altria also took her place beside Zelin. Although she was skilled with a sword, she lacked experience in dealing with monsters.
Even professionally trained Witchers had been known to lose their lives due to mishandling unexpected battle situations. Given the threat they faced, Zelin couldn't bear the thought of leaving the girl out of his reach.
"Be on your guard. The chaotic energy is growing more volatile," Francesca whispered into Zelin's ear.
He stole a sidelong glance at the elven Mage. Her face remained impassive, but her hands, tightly gripping the hem of her skirt, betrayed her inner tension.
Even intelligent beings like Mages, despite their formidable magic, were not immune to the fear of the unknown.
"The full moon is almost here. Prepare yourselves, everyone!" Hen Gedymdeith's hoarse voice echoed through the courtyard as he raised his hands.
As the oldest member of The Chapter of the Gift and the Art and a revered elder in the Council of Sorcerers, Gedymdeith possessed immense magical power. His influence was such that the kings of the northern kingdoms gave serious consideration to his every word.
He was leading this operation for the association.
In unison with Gedymdeith's gesture, the Mages and Sorceresses present raised their hands. Chaotic energy, which permeated the air, began to converge from all directions into their outstretched palms.
This strange energy, a result of the Conjunction of the Spheres, was detectable only by a rare few among humans known as "sources." Such individuals were truly one in a million, and most of them succumbed to madness without learning to control their abilities.
Those who managed to master this power, however, could wield magic beyond imagination.
Francesca closed her eyes and lifted her hands high. Sensing the shift, the Witchers instinctively took a step back, positioning themselves behind the Mages.
They drew their silver swords, intricately inlaid with runes, and scanned their surroundings with vigilant eyes, ready to fend off any monsters that might emerge from the shadows.
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Zelin pulled Altria closer to his side, and she drew her weapon. Seeing this, Zelin let out a soft sigh. "Your sword won't do much against most monsters.
Some are completely impervious to blades and projectiles. Remember what I told you? If a Leshen or a Demon shows up, use these." He handed her two items.
Altria took them instinctively, eyeing the contents curiously. "Demon Oil and a Whirlwind Bomb.
Both can harm them. And apply this Venomous Oil to your sword. We don't know what we'll face, but its toxicity is potent."
"But my sword is a blessed blade from the Lady of the Lake. Applying these things..." Altria frowned.
The thick, white liquid in the bottle made her feel queasy, but she knew Zelin was right. The sword oil would give her an edge in battle.
After a brief internal struggle, she dipped the Holy Sword of the Lady of the Lake into the thick liquid. "Alright, I won't be a liability."
"Focus! It's coming!" Francesca's low growl cut short their conversation.
The dark clouds above began to swirl like a vortex, completely obscuring the full moon. Not just over the abandoned castle, but the entire Mahakam Mountains were plunged into darkness.
Only the intermittent flashes of lightning provided momentary illumination. The lightning slithered through the clouds like serpents, and sudden gusts of wind whipped through the mountains.
Dead branches, leaves, sand, and gravel were whipped up into a frenzy, forcing Zelin to squint to protect his eyes from the stinging sand.
The air grew increasingly humid, and Zelin's Witcher instincts told him a rainstorm was imminent.
To an outsider, it might seem like the work of the Mages, but Zelin knew that even five powerful Mages combined couldn't conjure such a massive storm.
This kind of tempest could rage across any northern kingdom.
Dull thunder rumbled, and each flash of lightning revealed the pale, tense faces of the Mages and Witchers. "Damn it! Are they summoning a Golden Dragon?" George shouted, but his voice was carried away by the howling sandstorm, reaching Zelin's ears as nothing more than a faint murmur.
The sandstorm severely reduced visibility. Zelin could barely make out Letho, who was just ten meters away.
The gravel pelting his body felt like needles, but the Witchers remained on high alert.
In his Witcher vision, ghostly apparitions began to materialize in the courtyard, overlaying the castle with illusions of rural fields and cities. Zelin had only read about such a sight in ancient legends.
The Conjunction of the Spheres! This might be a small - scale manifestation, a brief touch between two different worlds, but if word got out, it would send shockwaves through the land.
The reappearance of such an ancient phenomenon was enough to strike awe into the hearts of all creatures.
The Conjunction had brought magic and all manner of strange monsters to the world, and in the eyes of ordinary people, it was often seen as an omen of the apocalypse. Zelin knew that without a complete overlap of dimensions, it wouldn't have the same cataclysmic impact as 1,500 years ago, but no one dared to underestimate its power.
As the storm intensified, Zelin felt as if the sky had solidified and was pressing down on him.
He raised his arm to shield his face, and the flying gravel left scratches and bloodstains. Bending down, he pulled Altria into his arms. She squirmed slightly but didn't resist.
Amidst the chaos, what caught Zelin's attention most was the center of the courtyard. The space there began to crack like glass struck by a powerful blow, and at the epicenter of the cracks, a portal similar to those created by Mages appeared.
In an instant, the five great Mages activated their defensive shields. Semi - circular barriers formed on the ground, enveloping both the Mages and Witchers.
Francesca, being of a smaller stature as an elf, and Altria, even more petite in comparison, meant that the shield designed for two easily protected all three of them.
"What's going on?" Zelin exclaimed. The translucent shield looked fragile, yet it held firm against the raging elements. Altria, too, looked around in confusion.
Francesca didn't turn to answer.
Her gaze remained fixed on the black portal. Soon, Zelin understood why the shields were necessary.
No monsters emerged from the portal, and there was no immediate attack from lurking creatures. Instead, the spring - like sky suddenly filled with a heavy snowfall.
The temperature plummeted from around ten degrees Celsius to well below freezing. Outside the shield, the laurel trees, which still held some green leaves, withered in seconds.
Without protection, no human could survive in such frigid conditions.
On the ground, a pale frost spread rapidly, swallowing up the earth. Snowflakes replaced the storm, and in an instant, the abandoned castle was blanketed in white.
The snow, tinged with an unclean yellowish hue, marred the otherwise beautiful scene. But no one was in the mood to appreciate it.
Everyone was braced for battle, for they knew what this meant.
White Frost...
The Wild Hunt had arrived.