Facing Geralt’s attack, the Wizard showed no panic. He swung the monster’s tentacles, which he could now control, aning they had fused into one!
Geralt imdiately felt the pressure increase, but he didn’t falter. His enchanted fla Longsword swung out, making contact with the tentacles.
Flas flared as the Longsword’s sharp edge sliced into a tentacle. Though the wound wasn’t large, more importantly, the oil coating the blade ignited on the tentacle, keeping the fire burning in the gash.
It worked!
Seeing this, Geralt felt a surge of joy. However, in the next second, the tentacle twisted, extinguishing the small fla, and the wound healed in an instant.
Geralt had no ti to lant the fleeting success; the Wizard’s next attack was already upon him, forcing Geralt to continue swinging his Longsword in defense.
Feeling the power within, the Wizard couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion. Previously, he had been forced into close quarters, but now he wasn’t afraid of the Witcher at all.
Master? Is this all he’s got?
anwhile, the Nun and Tamara weren’t just standing idly by; they were also channeling their powers.
With the torch in hand, the Nun’s recovery was much faster. This item was far more useful than a mace; she raised it, and a flash of light shot out.
The Divine Power imbued within struck the Wizard’s head. A mont ago, it had no effect, but this ti it successfully inflicted damage.
What do Transcendents fear most? Without a doubt, it’s the agitation of their Spiritual Essence.
The Nun’s attack was direct: it infused another kind of power into his body. The impact of this energy caused more damage than Geralt’s sword slashes, even making the Wizard’s reactions sluggish.
Conversely, the Nun, who shared the sa origin as this Divine Power, could absorb the dissipating energy to restore herself.
The Bald Sorcerer was in trouble. Geralt seized the opportunity, charging forward and striking forcefully, his Sword Blade aid at the Wizard’s head.
Unfortunately, a swinging tentacle deflected the Longsword, and the flas adhering to it also vanished amidst the fierce battle.
Geralt knew it would be difficult to defeat his current foe relying solely on these attacks. When the flas on his Longsword extinguished, he created so distance and sheathed his weapon.
But this didn’t an he intended to flee; on the contrary, he was now serious.
He then drew the other Longsword strapped to his back.
This Sword Blade was plated with silver, and countless runes were inscribed upon it using special techniques. Its sharp edge emanated a piercing coldness, a bone-chilling chill.
As he unsheathed it, Tamara could feel the dispersing Spiritual Essence fluctuations. This was a runic secret sword imbued with Supernatural Power!
Tamara wasn’t the only one who noticed. The Wizard, now fused with the tentacles, also sensed a threat. Disregarding the Divine Power within his body, he forcibly suppressed it and focused on the Witcher, his tentacles flailing wildly as they attacked.
Geralt engaged the Wizard, a Dharma Seal in one hand and the rune-inscribed silver Longsword in the other. The power imbued in the silver Longsword inflicted wounds on the tentacles that were slow to heal.
However, Wizards were known not for their physical prowess but for their bizarre Arts and rituals.
His left hand, grasping the triangular pendant, prepared to cast a secret technique. But he wasn’t the only Spellcaster present.
Tamara’s abilities primarily lay in divination, prophecy, and escape; her Attack Power relied entirely on various items. At this mont, so of her previously expended equipnt had finally recovered.
Petrification Beam!
She raised her hand and pointed. The gemstone on her ring, resembling an eye, glead, and a greyish-white beam shot out, directly hitting the Wizard.
The Wizard had just assimilated the tentacles, and his body had undergone significant Strengthening. In theory, he should have easily resisted it.
But the problem was twofold: he had only recently mastered the Power of Flesh and Blood, and the energy the Nun had left in his body had not yet been completely eradicated.
This Petrification Beam acted as a catalyst, causing turmoil in his Spiritual Essence. This, in turn, made him falter.
Geralt, a seasoned Witcher, naturally wouldn’t miss this opportunity. He swiftly accelerated, shook off the tentacles, and slashed with his Longsword.
A cold, silver light flashed. The Wizard’s left hand, clutching the triangular pendant, was cleanly severed. Geralt then kicked the severed arm and pendant away in mid-air.
"AH!" The Wizard let out an anguished howl. No blood flowed from the stump of his severed arm; instead, nurous fleshy buds erged, writhing frantically.
A wound from an ordinary weapon would have regenerated instantly, but the power from the runic Longsword lingered, suppressing the Flesh’s regeneration.
Geralt gave him no ti to recover. As his silver Longsword danced, the true might of the Witcher Master was finally revealed.
Not to ntion the two Spellcasters supporting him from behind. Together, the three of them managed to suppress the Wizard, whose injuries were visibly multiplying as his condition worsened by the mont.
He had suppressed the power of the Holy Fla with great difficulty, only to be hit by Tamara’s Petrification Beam. Then, his arm was severed, and even his precious pendant was lost.
This barrage of attacks left the Wizard utterly bewildered and looking incredibly battered.
Why had the Wizard, after assimilating the tentacles, beco even weaker than the original creature?
Because that power was too imnse, too vast for a human body to contain. It was like a python that had swallowed an elephant: even the slightest movent risked it bursting, forcing it to lie motionless.
He still possessed his sanity and hadn’t lost control, so most of his energy was dedicated to suppressing his own restless Spiritual Essence.
Perhaps it was only with the support of the entity behind him that he could temporarily suppress the power within. The key to this control was the triangular pendant.
Now it was gone. Geralt and the others didn’t realize what kind of monster would be unleashed without the pendant’s controlling influence...
Without the support of the entity behind him, the chaotic powers overwheld the Wizard, causing him to finally lose control.
"AAAAHHHH!!!"
With a roar, an imnse force coalesced into visible ripples of darkness, deeper than night itself. An aura of despair spread instantly.
Geralt and his companions were imdiately assailed by the burst of frenzied energy. All three were significantly hindered, and the torch held by the Nun dimd visibly.
But this wasn’t enough to vent the surging power; the roar was rely a prelude.
The uncontrolled power surged within the Wizard, brutally elongating his body. The sickening snap of bones could be heard.
His already robust fra swelled like a balloon. Dark purple veins, so as thick as fingers, bulged from his skin, giving him a truly grotesque appearance.
The rest of his body also began to transform. The residual power of the runic Longsword in the severed limb was obliterated by the bizarre new power.
Countless fleshy tendrils erupted from the stump, intertwining and writhing. His left arm regenerated at a visible rate, but it was a grotesque mass of raw, red, skinless Flesh, chaotically interwoven, with countless parts twitching and convulsing every second.
The regenerated arm was thicker than a man’s waist. His body’s proportions were entirely distorted, and other parts underwent various mutations, transforming him into sothing utterly inhuman.
Yet, the chaotic, destructive intent that surged after he lost control was utterly unconcealed!
A Heretic? Geralt realized sothing was terribly wrong.
Tamara frantically fumbled with the Crystal Ball in her hand. Beyond the initial roar, she detected no agitation in the surrounding Spiritual Essence.
She quickly understood.
"No, he’s an Aberrant Wizard," Tamara explained. "Most of their power resides with the entity they worship. That woman killed him earlier; he must have made a new pact with ’It’ for power to revive. Who knows if the one controlling this body is even the sa Wizard anymore."
"Whatever it is, this evil must be purged!"
The Nun wasted no words. She channeled power into her torch, sending a brilliant flash of light toward the creature.
Though she was suppressed, the corrupting wind could not extinguish her faith in the Holy Fla.
The attack barely scratched the creature, yet it succeeded in drawing its attention.
After transforming into a muscle-bound giant, he could no longer be called a Wizard. He had lost his ability to cast spells, replaced by a formidable strength that re human power could not hope to match.
The massive, tendril-ford arm clenched into a fist and smashed forward—who could possibly withstand such a blow?
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