She had only heard about it before, but now she truly witnessed it.
Wizards relied too heavily on dark thods, and Tamara knew that to break the oppressive atmosphere, the help of that Combat Nun was necessary.
It was only when she turned her attention to the Nun that she realized the latter seed to be in so trouble.
The woman nad Catherine simply avoided direct confrontation and also had so nauseating trinkets at hand, much to the Nun’s annoyance.
Having so knowledge of the Church’s Clergy, Tamara could feel the environntal pressure on the Nun. Unfortunately for Catherine and the Bald Sorcerer, Tamara knew how to help.
Abandoning the carriage that was both her protection and her prison, Tamara took the initiative to approach the Nun.
In her hand, apart from the Crystal Ball, she held a lit, special Wooden-handled Iron-ringed Torch that dispelled darkness wherever it shone.
This item was part of her collection, rumored to contain holy oil blessed by a Saint within its iron ring.
"The power of the Holy Fla is flowing!"
The Nun sensed sothing, casting her gaze towards the firelight and then at Tamara holding the torch. An ally, she thought, albeit a temporary one.
The appearance of the fla also dispelled the oppressive effect in the area, allowing the Nun to regain the power to invoke Divine Arts. She lifted her mace, chastising Catherine.
"Receive judgnt!"
A beam of light shot from the mace and, in the next second, descended upon Catherine’s head.
Her agile body suddenly halted, as if stupefied, looking as though her soul had been shattered by the strike. Conversely, the Nun’s condition was bolstered by the Divine Arts.
At the sa ti, the steadily burning torch in Tamara’s hand flared up like a newly lit match, its brightness surging by twenty percent. The light it emitted seed to carry so divine power, scattering the darkness even further.
Tamara, however, was impacted by the tumultuous Spiritual Essence and couldn’t help but spit out a mouthful of blood.
The Nun had originally intended to press her advantage and finish Catherine off with a blow from her mace. However, noticing Tamara’s condition, she montarily set down her mace and lifted the Codex, murmuring an invocation of Divine Arts.
Even a sliver of compassion was a rare thing to find amidst fierce combat.
Tamara could feel a force erging, temporarily stabilizing her injuries. She recognized this power as the very source of the Church’s transcendent status.
"Thank you..." Like most Transcendents, Tamara regarded the Church with respect but kept her distance, though she couldn’t deny the miraculous nature of this power.
"Even here, the Holy Light will shine upon us." The Nun’s attitude showed no animosity; instead, she offered encouragent, suggesting that she wasn’t one of the more extre Clerics.
Just at that mont, Catherine finally broke free from the influence of the Divine Arts, looking quite worse for wear.
Facing one heavily suppressed Nun was already difficult enough, Catherine thought. Now the restrictions are lifted, and there’s an additional enemy. I can’t win. It was clear even without much thought.
She had disliked following the Bald Sorcerer’s orders from the start, and this situation only deepened her reluctance, making her lose all will to continue. She turned and ran straight towards her master.
I can’t just flee, she reasoned. Master’s true power is far greater than this, and my own life is at his rcy. If I try to escape outright, I’ll likely die instantly.
Seeing this, the Nun and Tamara imdiately gave chase...
Truth be told, I don’t enjoy hunting Wizards, Geralt mused. Most Transcendents don’t enjoy tangling with such troubleso enemies. Nobody knows just how considerable the combat power they can obtain from their vast knowledge is, and the older the Wizard, the more formidable. Still, throughout my long career, I’ve gained my own understanding of such foes. And more to the point, the bounty offered by Totnes is simply too high.
In the face of the Bald Sorcerer’s various harassing gadgets, Geralt remained stoic, waving his Longsword and seamlessly integrating Dharma Seals, whether for offense or defense.
The battle seemingly put him at a disadvantage, but in reality, Geralt retained a firm grip on the situation.
My long career has taught two approaches to dealing with Wizards, he considered. One is a sudden assault to close the gap and slay them. If the Nun had allowed to enter the scene first, this might have been possible. Unfortunately, the Wizard was alerted in advance. The second approach is what’s happening now: if the opponent is prepared, then the only option is to wear them down slowly, drawing out all their tricks. For a Wizard, Spiritual Essence diminishes with use and is very difficult to recover. A slight lapse in concentration can cause their Spiritual Essence to beco agitated. My Witcher constitution, however, grants a recovery ability that can fully endure the physical exhaustion. If I press too hard at the beginning, it could easily lead to a desperate struggle. That’s why I’m not in a hurry for the kill, preferring instead to wear down the opponent continuously. An experienced Witcher is never hasty; the hasty ones are all dead.
Just as he and the Wizard were wearing each other down, the chaos from the other side suddenly broke the rhythm he had established.
Seeing the woman charging at him, Geralt, ever cautious, took the initiative to retreat a safe distance, allowing Catherine the chance to run behind the Bald Sorcerer.
"Useless!" the Bald Sorcerer snapped.
Upon seeing Catherine leading two people over, the Bald Sorcerer imdiately sensed trouble. He knew this servant of his lacked the ability to entangle both opponents.
The Combat Nun and Tamara arrived, and a standoff ensued. For a mont, all parties converged, and a lee seed imminent.
It was three against two. One side had a front line, healing, and support, while the Bald Sorcerer’s side had only a useless servant, incapable of even absorbing damage.
It had to be said, at this mont, the Bald Sorcerer felt a fleeting regret. I shouldn’t have been so greedy earlier...
Just then, a series of rapid hoofbeats rang out on the old, dark road.
At that sound, everyone on the scene tensed up. Friend or foe? they wondered.
The sound indicated the newcor was not far. Soon enough, they saw soone on horseback racing furiously. In the dark night, they couldn’t discern details, yet they seed to feel a sharp gaze sweep across them.
The newcor was none other than Dismas, previously sent by Lance to deliver a ssage. He, too, noticed the bright fire ahead and a group of people, unclear about what they were doing.
"Stop! There are traps on the road!" Watching the approaching horse, Geralt reacted and shouted loudly.
Tamara, of course, was also aware, yet she rely watched coldly. If soone else triggers those traps, it would actually be beneficial for ... she thought.
Dismas had certainly heard the shouting ahead. However, he hadn’t forgotten his mission; he had been fearful of Heretics intercepting him all along.
Now, hearing the warning and rembering the Lord’s reminder, he did not slow his horse in the slightest. Instead, he drew his musket as a warning.
Whether these people are from that evil cult or not, they won’t stop ! he resolved.
If only he could have rushed past so easily. But the problem was that there really were traps set by the Wizard on the road.
The galloping horse seed to trigger sothing. In an instant, Dismas sensed sothing was wrong. Years of experience as a hardened bandit gave him an inspiration-like impulse; he decisively abandoned his horse, leaping away and rolling several tis on the ground.
When he scrambled to his feet, disheveled, he found that the horse he had just been riding had been killed by so unseen force. There were no visible wounds, but it lay rigid on the ground as if it had been dead for so ti.
This situation caused Dismas’s already taut nerves to stretch even tighter. He aid his musket at them. "Who are you? What’s going on here?"
Admittedly, the Nun holding the Wooden-handled Iron-ringed Torch was the only person on the scene who made Dismas suppress his imdiate urge to shoot. People from the Church shouldn’t be collaborating with an evil cult, he reasoned, but I can’t be sure of what’s going on here.
Tamara noticed that the obstructing force had dissipated. So the Wizard’s traps were finally broken because they were triggered, she concluded.
She then spoke up, offering an explanation while also redirecting the focus of the problem.
"Be careful of that evil Wizard; he’s the one who set the traps."
This statent imdiately directed Dismas’s attention towards the Wizard. He’s not an Imperial Person, Dismas observed, and he definitely doesn’t look like a good individual.
But quickly, he suppressed the chaotic emotions stirring within him and spoke gravely.
"I have no interest in your conflicts."
Having said that, he was ready to leave. My mission isn’t complete yet, and that’s the priority, he thought. I’m past the age for recklessly seeking out fights. Of course, no one here is simple. Being so close to Hamlet, I have to hurry back and report to the Lord so he can make a decision.
But sotis, situations are not as simple as one wishes...
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