Margit, the Fell Omen, was indeed a formidable foe.
However, Guilliman, who knew part of the The Lands Between's history, understood that the Fell Omen blocking the path to Stormveil Castle was merely an avatar of the demigod Mohgwyn, the Omen King.
He guarded Stormveil Castle because this demigod remained loyal to erdtree, seeking to protect Godrick, son of Godfrey, and prevent the Tarnished from becoming the elden lord.
And Godrick the Grafted was almost the weakest demigod in the The Lands Between; he possessed the first Great Rune players could acquire, which was part of erdtree.
"Fiona, I will go with you to face the Fell Omen."
"I once explored Stormveil Castle, but he blocked my path."
"At that time, I chose not to fight him, but I could sense he was a powerful enemy."
"If the two of us work together, the probability of defeating him will indeed increase significantly."
Seeing Guilliman agree to challenge the Fell Omen together, the Tarnished's expression immediately softened.
A battle-hardened warrior like her always disdained sweet words, schemes, and tricks; the only ones she trusted were comrades who had faced life and death alongside her, those who could confront powerful enemies together.
This invitation for Guilliman to fight the Fell Omen was not out of fear or an unwillingness to challenge him alone, but rather at Melina's suggestion.
She hoped to understand this powerful individual from another world better through shared combat.
Although the Fell Omen was strong, as long as she slowly recovered her strength, it wouldn't be long before Fiona could face him alone.
After receiving a positive answer, Fiona met Guilliman's gaze with her somewhat lifeless eyes, then nodded. Without further discussion, she spoke directly, her voice firm and calm: "For the next while, I will be operating near the gates of Stormveil Castle. Come and meet me when you are ready."
"Only by defeating the Fell Omen can we enter Stormveil Castle."
Since this Tarnished was so decisive, Guilliman did not object, nodding in agreement.
He indeed could not depart immediately; there were still many matters to attend to at the expedition camp, and the road to the gates of Stormveil Castle had not yet been cleared.
Having achieved the desired outcome, Fiona performed a knight's salute to Guilliman, then quickly left the camp.
This Tarnished female knight seemed to have been fighting ceaselessly since her awakening.
It was a pity that the soul power from the monsters she killed could not be absorbed by him in time; it felt a bit wasteful.
Guilliman sighed, and at the same time, began making preparations in the camp, ready to head towards Stormveil Castle soon.
He remembered that in the game, he would encounter a young girl named Roderika along the way, curled up in an abandoned wooden hut, seeking help.
This girl was also a Spirit Tuner, mastering one of the most miraculous abilities in the The Lands Between: summoning combat companions from spirit ashes to assist the Tarnished in battle.
He wondered if he would meet her this time. If he did, it would be best to recruit her to help him establish a safe camp.
Just imagine, if every Witcher could summon different spirit ashes to assist in battle, then his Witcher companions' combat power and adaptability would greatly increase... A few days later, Guilliman, accompanied by Dettlaff and Orianna, embarked on the road to the Stormhill Shack.
As for the other Witchers, their strength was not yet strong enough, so they could only perform defensive duties for the camp, fighting in coordination.
After all, even though Limgrave served as the The Lands Between's starting area, it was still fraught with danger: twisted Misbegotten soldiers, Stormhawks emitting ominous shrieks, and Living Corpses suddenly erupting from rock crevices—danger was everywhere.
The process of battle requires little elaboration.
Dettlaff weaved through the monster horde, his pale fingers tearing throats, elegant and deadly.
Orianna floated in mid-air, crimson magic condensing into spears, precisely piercing the monsters that lunged at her, turning them into a dark golden rain of blood.
As Higher Vampires, their power, though suppressed in the The Lands Between, was still more than enough to deal with these lesser foes.
Guilliman's Lady of the Lake's Splendor Greatsword, meanwhile, was responsible for crushing any hard barriers that dared to charge head-on, leaving deep, bone-visible gashes and a messy pile of corpses.
While clearing monsters at the edge of a cliff, Guilliman's keen senses caught a faint whimper from deep within the ruins, seemingly a human voice.
Dettlaff sped off, Orianna close behind.
In the corner of a dilapidated house, almost blocked by collapsed stones, they found a young girl curled up and trembling.
A giant rat, with twisted limbs and a decaying stench, was frantically gnawing at a half-rotted log blocking the entrance. The girl's terrified face was clearly visible through the gap, tears mixing with dirt.
Guilliman's eyes sharpened.
Magic was infused into the Lady of the Lake's Splendor Greatsword; without even needing to swing with full force, a golden sword light, over two meters long, erupted, instantly cleaving the giant rat in half.
Foul-smelling blood and flesh splattered, covering the girl hiding in the corner.
She was so frightened that her scream was caught in her throat, only staring fixedly at Guilliman, who had eliminated the threat, her body trembling from cold and fear.
That night, a bonfire crackled in the temporary rock shelter.
The girl, named Roderika, wrapped in a blanket given by Guilliman, huddled by the fire, intermittently recounting her experiences.
She had been a noble's daughter from Stormveil Castle, fleeing the castle with her father, but they were separated by monsters on the way. Her father died tragically, her companions were "grafted," and she hid, like a startled hamster, filled with dread for the future.
Her voice was low, full of despair and numbness; clearly, now alone, she had been thoroughly terrified by the surrounding monsters.
If no one helped her, it wouldn't be long before this girl, like other survivors, would either be corrupted by some power and turn into a monster, or become a corpse, food for the monsters.
After rescuing his first target, Guilliman decided to rest temporarily by the small wooden hut.
Currently, relying on two Higher Vampires and seven Witcher companions, he could acquire about a thousand soul points daily in the The Lands Between, and sometimes obtain special magical items from treasure chests or monsters.
Such immense gains made Guilliman very happy, even somewhat tireless.
If he could recruit more local talents from the The Lands Between, such as blacksmiths, spirit tuners, item vendors, or powerful NPCs like mages.
Then the benefits he gained in the The Lands Between would soon surpass those from the Elder Scrolls world.
And with a daily income of ten thousand soul points, in about one or two months, he could break through to the [Saint] rank, further advancing his strength.
The bonfire crackled in the center of the wooden hut, its dancing flames making the dilapidated house a little warmer.
Roderika, wrapped in the thick wool blanket Guilliman had given her, huddled close to the fire.
The blanket was too large for her slender body, enveloping her, revealing only a beautiful face, still pale but no longer solely despairing, and a few strands of messy golden hair.
This noble young lady might possess a tiny bit of Godfrey's golden lineage, which gave her beautiful golden hair, and in terms of temperament and appearance, she was at least an eight out of ten compared to ordinary people.
This made Guilliman feel a little restless, occasionally glancing at the delicate girl.
The intense fright from her rescue had subsided, replaced by a lingering silence and confusion about the future.
Guilliman wiped the grime from his Lady of the Lake's Splendor Greatsword with a damp cloth, the firelight illuminating his focused profile, the contours of his taut muscles subtly visible.
He was strong, a power that could be felt without words. His handsomeness also carried the rugged lines characteristic of a warrior, with deep-set eyes beneath sword-like brows, a high-bridged nose, and thin lips that were always tightly pressed or held a calm smile.
To Roderika, such an image in the The Lands Between, full of monsters and the dead, was both unfamiliar and strikingly reassuring.
She watched the firelight dance on his sword, watched his fingers steadily brush the cold sword spine. His focused expression held a strange magic that gradually settled her chaotic and frightened mind.
Unlike the unchanging divine light of erdtree, the person before her exuded an earthly power: hot, real, tangible, and even... an attraction that made her feel a touch of shyness.
She took a soft breath, breaking the silence, her voice still slightly hoarse: "Stormveil..."
Her voice was very low, trembling with the aftermath of her ordeal.
"It's... no longer my home."
Guilliman looked up, his movements not stopping, but his gaze was gentle, encouraging.
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