Geralt, finally out of the palace, felt as if a weight had lifted from him. His body felt light, his spirits refreshed, and his energy restored. Victor's alchemical skill was truly extraordinary, but Geralt decided he would have to think twice before drinking one of his potions again.
He had not expected Angoulême to be telling the truth. The side effects really were that severe. Not even a witcher's circulatory system could ignore them. Luckily, he had followed her advice and chosen to drink it near a privy. Otherwise... just imagining the consequences made him shudder.
On the road to the place where the striga had appeared, a group of people came walking toward him from the opposite direction. The witcher's cat eyes were sharp, and from afar he clearly saw the man and woman being protected at the center. The middle-aged man was an old acquaintance of his, the burgomeister Velerad. The young woman also looked somewhat familiar. He easily guessed that she was Princess Adda, who had once nearly killed him.
Obviously, Victor had successfully completed the commission to lift the curse.
And once the two people at the center of the group drew closer, they also recognized the white-haired witcher, and sent a knight over to invite him to speak with them.
...
Beneath the old manor, Victor put away the Dragon-Slaying Greatsword, ate something to replenish his strength, and continued deeper into the cavern.
The battle with Leila earlier had verified his inference. Anti-magic bombs were not invincible against mages. The evidence was that, from the moment Alzur's Shield began suffering dimeritium interference, it had taken quite some time for the layers to peel away and fully disperse.
In other words, the moment an anti-magic bomb was thrown, the mage's magic would immediately descend into chaos, leaving him unable to cast anything and reducing him to a cripple. That was not a universal phenomenon. Perhaps Albert had simply been lacking in skill.
For dimeritium to take effect, the distance needed to be close enough, and the amount in contact with the target was definitely the more the better. The best scenario, of course, would be dimeritium shackles locked directly around the body. However, if a magic shield blocked them, he might not be able to get the shackles on for a while.
This discovery was not good news for Victor, who had previously believed he had mages in the bag, but he could still accept it. At least he had not been slapped in the face after throwing out an anti-magic bomb, or even counter-killed. Now that he thought about it, if high-ranking mages were truly that easy to deal with, they would not hold their current status.
But no matter what, throwing a dimeritium bomb into the decisive battleground would at least prevent Azar from casting long-distance teleportation, the spell known to be most easily disrupted. Passing through a portal while dimeritium fragments covered the ground would be pure suicide.
Only, without a trump card that could guarantee victory, his strategy in the conflict had to be considered carefully. Victor liked fighting battles he was confident in. This kind of battle, with no absolute chance of success, actually did not suit his personality. Yet he could not let Azar get away either.
The mage's return was probably to pack up and leave. Only this reason could explain why he had given up the chance to join forces with Leila and eliminate Victor earlier. If he did not leave now, it would be too late.
Once Adda returned to court and told her father everything she had told Victor, she would still be the king's beloved daughter. At most, she had been a little rebellious and had been misled into doing a few bad things. But Salamandra, or the mastermind behind the scenes, would definitely no longer be able to remain in Temeria.
In fact, from the moment the king returned, the entire non-human riot and the corresponding conspiracy were destined to be crushed by overwhelming military force.
So Victor had to pursue him. Otherwise, who knew how long it would take to catch him again next time? And the secret of the Grass Draught might very well spread.
...
The farther he went downward, the clearer the miserable wails and roars became. The witcher was mentally prepared for what he was about to see, but when he stepped into the stone chamber and truly saw it, he still found it hard to accept.
Rows and rows of iron cages were arranged neatly and orderly. Inside them were over a hundred creatures at different stages of mutation, creatures that had once been human.
He softened his steps and clenched his fists. Knowing was one thing. Seeing was another. His azure Rinnegan took on a pale red tint, becoming light purple.
Passing through the cage area filled with experimental subjects, he heard faint rustling from the laboratory deeper inside. The witcher, full of anticipation, gently drew Blazing Strike, then took one bottle after another of combat-enhancing potion from his herbal satchel and drank them.
The bottles he drank were all potions with increased toxicity but stronger effects. After drinking them this time, he still had no adverse reaction. The heat in his face only became more obvious.
Turning the corner, he saw Azar's back inside the small room. One of his hands reached into the herbal satchel, pulled out a dimeritium bomb, and threw it in. At the same time, his entire body lunged at Azar's back like an arrow leaving the string.
With no other interference, he hoped he could finish him off just like this.
Boom! The anti-magic bomb exploded. Sensing the crisis, Azar Javed swiftly turned around, just in time to see Victor's light purple eyes and a flash of swordlight sweeping upward from below.
Crash! The mage was not cut in two. Instead, he shattered like pieces of glass. This glass mirror image was the third time Victor had seen such a trick, and without the slightest hesitation, he gripped his sword with both hands and swept it sideways.
Clang! The thunderous sound was steel sword colliding with spiked mace.
His strength spent, he took a slight step back, and the standoff resumed. The witcher saw that the mage's cloth robe had been cut open diagonally, proving that the ambush just now had not been useless.
Resting his spiked mace against the ground, the Zerrikanian shook his head and said, "How disappointing. I never expected you to use a trick like an ambush. And a dimeritium bomb, is that your trump card? Is that why you dared challenge me? It seems I overestimated you in the past!"
"Be more confident. Remove the 'seems.' For a while, I overestimated myself too. I thought that once I threw the bomb, your magic would scatter, you would panic, your hands and feet would go weak, and you would let me slaughter you!"
While replying to the mage, the young witcher tried to use a Sign, but with dimeritium fragments covering the ground, his crude spellcasting technique failed completely. By the same logic, this proved that at the very least, the fellow in front of him could not open a portal and flee either.
His voice was low and carried a trace of anger. "You think such crude provocation will work?"
"I don't know whether it will work, but the long chase ends here. This enclosed environment suits our duel very well!"
Inside the small laboratory, Victor assumed the ox guard. The hilt of Blazing Strike was held slightly above his head, the sword tip pointing toward his opponent's face.
The next instant, his sword cleaved diagonally, and the witcher pressed close to entangle the mage, giving him no time to cast.
Although he could not judge whether the mage could still cast spells, as long as he stood in dimeritium fragments, his magic would be severely disrupted. Victor sacrificed his Sign ability in exchange for limiting Azar as well. Competing in swordsmanship was better than letting him cast spells without restraint.
This was the plan with the highest chance of success, the one Victor had thought through on the way here.
With a cold laugh, Azar swung his twin spiked maces and began a deathmatch with Victor.
...
This Zerrikanian was not easy to deal with. Victor had known that since watching him and the Professor fight Geralt together at Alzur's Tower. But now that he was truly fighting him himself, perhaps because he had just battled a monster like Leila, the pressure did not feel that great.
After several more exchanges, the witcher could determine that if the fight continued on pure stamina alone, the mage would inevitably lose before long. Both of them knew this very clearly. At this point, what he truly had to guard against was the opponent's method of instant spellcasting.
So long as he remained vigilant, with both of them lacking shields, one side wore only a thin cloth robe while the other wore leather armor enhanced by Void traits. The outcome was obvious.
Unfortunately, Victor's confident imagination was slapped swollen in the very next second.
When the witcher's blade once again swept past the mage's face, even cutting off a silver nose ring, the mage suddenly roared, "Enough!"
Then a powerful magical shockwave blasted Victor, who had been blocking the doorway, directly away. He rolled all the way back into the experimental subject cage area, while the shockwave also blew all the dimeritium fragments on the ground into the corners of the room.
Blown far away, Victor could only watch helplessly as Azar walked out of the laboratory.
The mage's face was full of fury as he glared at him. After a simple chant, a layer of dark blue film surfaced over his dark, strong body. It was a magic armor spell. Then he casually swung his spiked maces, and fierce flames rose over the weapons' surfaces, enchanted flame.
"I played with a rat for a little while, and you took it seriously, you piece of filth! Did you think a mere dimeritium bomb would let you fight a true battle mage?
"Look clearly at the difference between us! You will soon understand why mages have stood at the pinnacle of power for centuries, while witchers can only roll around in the mud!"
Victor pinched out the Quen Sign with his fingers. A pale golden shield surfaced over him. Its scale and effect could not compare with Azar's, but it was better than nothing. Otherwise, if he took a direct hit from those twin spiked maces enchanted with flame, he would definitely be left unable to take care of himself.
"Die now!" Wielding his weapons, Azar engaged him in battle again. The moment they exchanged blows, the witcher was under tremendous pressure. Azar, who had walked out of the laboratory covered in dimeritium fragments, was more than a tiger leaving its cage. He was practically a flood dragon returning to the sea.
As they fought, he could even make fireballs erupt from the direction his spiked maces pointed. Victor was instantly beaten into scrambling for cover, only able to make a tactical retreat and hide behind obstacles.
Fortunately, the spacious experimental area had many facilities and mutant cages that could provide cover. For the moment, the mage could not catch the witcher either.
Relying on desperate rolls to resist blinking pursuit, Victor rolled while cursing Albert in his heart for still screwing people over even after death. Those Polish jackasses had done him no favors. One had made the anti-magic bomb absurdly powerful in the game, filling him with expectation, while the other had demonstrated being directly crippled after getting bombed, giving him the illusion of certain victory.
The reality was that battle mages were powerful to this extent. Relying on just one dimeritium bomb to challenge one in single combat was basically suicide.
Although his heart was full of complaints, the witcher did not give up hope. On the contrary, he kept calculating his hand again and again in his mind. Aard could blow Azar away, but with magic armor protecting him, the impact would have little effect. It could also block Igni. Yrden could not slow down a mage whose magic was stronger. Axii had not even been able to control the mindless Leila. It seemed none of the five Signs could counter Azar. Bombs also had very limited effect against magic armor.
Under Azar's blinking bombardment, as long as Victor lived, he kept rolling.
As he ran and rolled, his thoughts spread outward. Think from another angle. A soldier's calculation came down to timing, terrain, and support.
There was an innate difference in performance between a mage and a witcher. Support went without saying, there was no comparison. Timing, at first glance, slightly favored Victor. As long as he could hold on a little longer, once Azar calmed down, he would realize he had to leave as soon as possible. But that was timing only from the perspective of personal survival.
If Victor still wanted to kill him, then once Azar's current wave of anger passed and he sobered up enough to leave, Victor would have no way to stop him. So timing was half and half.
In the end, he could only consider terrain. The experimental area was full of facilities and cages that could provide cover, convenient for keeping away around obstacles. That could barely count as terrain. Then was there anything, anything else that could help?
While he racked his brain, a thought suddenly crashed into his heart. Victor could not suppress a slight tremble. He really did not want to do this, but doing it truly gave him a chance to keep Azar here.
So, after another wave of bombardment ended, the young witcher shouted, "Azar Javed, since you gained so much inspiration from that Revelation of Conjectures or whatever, have you forgotten what the first paragraph of the first manuscript said?"
The mage froze slightly. He had not expected the witcher to bring up this topic at such a time.
He stopped blinking, and the contents of the first paragraph of the first manuscript had just surfaced in his mind.
Victor's shout reached his ears. "Know this, in all research and conjecture concerning mutation, and in all changes made to the essence of life, boundaries must never be overstepped. The following principles must be remembered:
"The experimental subject must volunteer for the experiment. They may not be deceived or forced. The experiment carried out must also abide by the principle of doing good and doing no harm, devoting itself to the welfare of the subject and reducing the subject's pain."
What the young witcher loudly recited was, astonishingly, the opening of Conjectures on the Trial of the Grasses, Part One.
Azar frowned. He did not believe an ordinary witcher would study those manuscripts. Then he thought of how, in just a few days, Victor had already completed the Trial of the Grasses, and a guess flashed through his mind.
"So you are Handsome Guy by the Sea!?"
"Yes... I... am Handsome Guy by the Sea." His voice paused a little, and he panted from time to time.
After pursuing the witcher for a period of time, the mage understood this opponent somewhat. Just now, Victor had been chased for so long without issue. It was impossible for him to become short of breath just from reciting a passage. Could he have done something out of sight?
Casting a blink, Azar moved to a position far from Victor, but one where he could see him clearly. The sight before him made him freeze slightly.
The experimental subjects in that entire row of cages had all been stabbed to death by the witcher. The experimental area had already been full of wailing, and Victor had loudly recited over it, so Azar had actually failed to notice him killing people over there.
Staring at the motionless young man with his head lowered, the mage could not make sense of it. But since the other party was not moving, all the better. He stabbed his spiked maces into the ground, locked onto Victor, and began casting.
"What you have done is meaningless! Trying to destroy my experiments? I already have enough data!"
Just then, Victor suddenly raised his head, letting Azar clearly see his eyes. Those mutated eyes, with their strange three-layered pupils, were bright scarlet. Nine black dots seemed alive as they circled and spun around them.
The witcher charged straight at the mage, like a man who had seen his most beloved toy, full of joy and utterly fearless.
A cold smile appeared at the corner of Azar's mouth. Admirable courage, but meaningless.
The white light in his palms was none other than Alzur's Thunder!
However, the young witcher was one step faster than him.
"Axii!"
The three-layered pupils bloomed scarlet with fury. A powerful mental impact struck Azar just as he was about to release his spell, and his mind instantly went blank.
Then, when he came back to himself, Victor was nowhere in front of him. For a moment, the mage could not understand what had happened. He tried to move his body, but his body did not respond.
Then he realized he was flying through the air. No... only his head was flying through the air... his body was still on the ground!!!
And that witcher was looking at him and smiling, holding a short sword in his hand, his smile bright as sunlight. That was the last sight Azar ever saw.
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