The Divine Hunter - Chapter 450

Chapter 450: Number 22
[TL: Asuka]
[PR: Ash]
1st of January, Year 1263, Morning.
Another year had gone by, and the witchers had a celebration just the day before. And now, Coen, Jerome, Roy, Letho, Geralt, Lambert, and Aiden found themselves stepping through a portal leading to Amell.
They did all the preparations they could. Food, water, one-time portal items, decoctions, and bombs. All the things they could carry, they carried with them. Just in case anything bad happened.
***
A wind-swept, snowy mountain stood tall over the landscape, glimmering under the sun. The cloaked witchers hid at the back of these mountains, trekking across the treacherous Klamat Pass like it was nothing. A griffin flew overhead, keeping watch over the whole mountain. Keeping an eye on the elusive Haern Caduch.
Unlike Blue Mountains and the Dragon Mountains, Amell wasn’t a labyrinthine range. The trekkers wouldn’t feel like they were trapped forever in a maze. Even so, Amell’s temperature was dangerously low. There were barely any beasts to be seen. Even the witchers had to keep moving in order to fight off the invading cold.
They spent days trekking across the range. On the fifth day, Gryphon led them to the highest vantage point of this icy mountain. The solemn, precarious peak they called Mount Gorgon. It sat atop the mountain range, gleaming like an obelisk. And in the midsection of that mountain stood a wall. A Z-shaped wall. Four of the tallest towers and some intricate, smaller structures stood atop the walls, forming a line. And the walls were covered in snow.
The griffin flapped its wings and descended upon the top of the center tower. It then crouched, watching its surroundings cautiously.
The witchers stepped past a small slope in the ground and came to the fortress’ entrance. A bunch of icicles had bonded the steel gates to the wall, with no hope of ever separating them.
“Haern Caduch. Fortress of the Bear School,” Coen said. “As majestic as Kaer Seren in its glory days. Now reduced to ruins.”
The fortress was supposed to have spacious training grounds, but now it was buried under layers of snow.
“Our age has come and gone.” Jerome shook his head.
“Oh, stop with that comment.” Lambert shook his head as well. Unlike Jerome, he was excited. “Think about the orphanage. Our age hasn’t even started yet.”
“Enough with the pep talk.” Aiden put a finger to his lips and whipped out a bottle of Cat. Then he gulped it down. His companions followed suit.
A moment later, seven pairs of shining eyes stared straight at the gates. The witchers ventured through the walls, the gates, the corridors, and finally, the stairs.
***
Eventually they arrived at the great hall. What was once a majestic place was reduced to an abandoned building. Yet the remnants of its heyday were still evident. Its decor was simple, just like how most witchers loved it. The only decorations were some trophies hanging on the walls. Nothing else.
Black pillars stood within the hall, supporting the roof. Cold winds whistled through the cracks between the pillars with nothing stopping them. The witchers explored the hall as fast as they could. Aside from some dusty furniture, couches, and candelabras, there was nothing else. The fireplace was long since extinguished. Even the chimney had a layer of solid ice blocking it.
This fortress had been deserted for quite some time now, unlike what Jerome’s dream suggested. Everyone heaved a sigh of disappointment, but they split into three teams and kept looking for clues.
Roy and Geralt took the corridor on the left, and they ascended the place.
“So, do you think we’ll get anything this time?” Geralt asked hoarsely. “Will we find Erland? Even Elgar, perhaps?”
Vesemir tasked him with something important this time. The search for all witcher school founders was important.
“Perhaps.” Roy scanned the corridor. It was dim and empty. “There must be some clue lying around. Jerome didn’t have that dream for no reason.”
They arrived in one particular room on the second floor, and the witchers tensed up. A green ribbon hung in the air, and it smelled like a living being. They sniffed the air and caught a nice scent lying in it.
“Smells like a bug.”
Roy and Geralt exchanged a look. They then cast two layers of magical shields on them and unsheathed their blades. Like cats, they curled up a little and walked on their toes, slowly closing in on the bedroom. The bedroom had its door wide open.
Carefully, the witchers took a look inside. Unlike the corridors and the great hall, this room’s walls were covered in a layer of moss and fern. As if they were keeping this place warm. And on these walls lay a monster. A monster as quiet as a specter. It had eyes as large as lanterns, legs as slender as sticks, and its torso resembled that of a dragonfly’s. The monster looked like a living, breathing candelabra, and it wriggled out of the crevices on the wall.
‘Koshchey
Age: Thirty-six years old
Gender: Male
HP: 250
Strength: 22
Dexterity: 28
Constitution: 25
Perception: 10
Will: 6
Charisma: 3
Spirit: 8
Skills:
Exoskeleton (Passive): Koshcheys have hardened exoskeletons. They are nigh unbreakable. Grants a considerable amount of resistance against physical attacks.
Corrosion Level 6: A koshchey’s claws are covered in corrosive venom capable of eating through flesh and bones.
Regeneration Level 5: Koshcheys are extremely resilient. They can regenerate most of their organs, except their vitals.’
***
The witchers stood in silence, and then Geralt slit his throat with his hand. Roy extended his hand. His blade disappeared, replaced by an exquisite, dangerous hand crossbow. And he started casting Aard.
A crossbow bolt zipped through the air, followed by a bolt of electricity. The bolt reached the monster’s eye, and the impact from the shot pierced through it. Unlike most of its body, this monster’s eyes had no protection. And so, it was smashed open like a watermelon.
Green liquid splattered all over its body, glowing eerily. Hisses of agony escaped the monster’s maw, and all its legs tensed up. All thirty-six of them. But before it could do anything, a bolt of electricity arced through the air and hit the monster’s torso. Yellow arcs of electricity danced across the monster’s limbs, turning its screeches into howls of pain. It was frozen in place, spasming.
Geralt seized the chance and charged ahead. Then he tried to bring his blade down on the monster’s tentacles.
But the monster quickly recovered from its shock and swiped Geralt’s blade away. It leapt off the walls and pounced at Geralt, its limbs spinning around like fans of a windmill. Even the air itself screamed under the pressure of the monster’s spinning limbs.
Geralt slid under the bug right after it broke his Quen. It tried to injure Geralt, but that was never to be. The moment Geralt got back up, he made a deep cut in the monster’s belly. Green blood rained down on the ground, corroding it. Smoke billowed, and the floor hissed.
The bug tensed up once again. It let out a howl and leapt around once more to swing its tentacles at Geralt.
And that was its fatal mistake. It showed its back to Roy.
A silver flash whizzed through the air, and a fireball exploded on its rear end. The explosion and the bolt’s momentum sent it flying straight to the wall. It shrieked, but there was nothing it could do.
Geralt stabbed his blade into the monster’s left eye, robbing it of its sight. Roy then joined the battle, his blade in hand.
It was not much of a battle. Five seconds later, the monster was no longer howling.
It was dead.
Slowly, the bloodied, menacing monster slid down to Roy’s feet.
‘Koshchey killed. EXP +280. Level 10 Witcher (1000/8500).’
***
“Ever seen this thing before?” Roy hunkered down and cut its body open. There’s probably a greater mutagen inside. “Never saw it in the witcher manual.”
Geralt shook his head. “We’re monster hunters, not experts on rare monsters. But I get a weird feeling from it. It’s not an endrega, nor is it an arachas. It just feels… unnatural. Artificial.”
The witchers sliced the corpse apart. Aside from a greater green mutagen, they also found a plate inside. It was embedded in the cracks between the monster’s flesh and exoskeleton. And something weird was engraved on it. UL Ex IX 0022.
“Number 22? You mean there are more?” Roy cocked his eyebrow. I have a bad feeling about this. Did the monster gobble someone up and accidentally swallow this? Or is it something else?
***
 

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