But never underestimate the power of a Wizard who had lived for who knows how long; the Wizard’s soul still lingered, wrestling with the monster from ti to ti for control of that body. Otherwise, it would have been very difficult for just the few of them to struggle until now.
However, as ti went on, the Wizard’s lingering will gradually faded, overtaken by madness and bloodlust.
She had spent a lifeti in battle but had never faced such a terrifying monster. This was beyond what humans could...
The other two weren’t faring much better. Geralt had managed to hold on till now only because the two kept buffing him incessantly.
The Nun was sowhat better off, having the torch to draw strength from, but that wasn’t saying much. When Geralt fell, she had to step up and briefly entangle the monster.
In the face of the monster’s inhuman strength, her armor dented. One shoulder guard fell off, and her hood was ripped apart. If not for her quick reflexes, that large hand would have almost grabbed her head.
"Think of sothing fast! I can’t hold out much longer!" the Nun cried out.
Geralt shouted and had no choice but to clench his teeth and charge head-on.
But they couldn’t let the Nun fall now, or else there would truly be no way out.
As the Nun was relieved, she didn’t even bother to rest and imdiately began to cast Divine Arts.
A beam of light, though very faint, appeared, standing out in the darkness.
Geralt felt his body recover slightly, and the hand holding his sword steadied once more.
Before he could catch his breath, the monster charged at him again.
Seeing this, a bitter smile appeared on Geralt’s face. Damn that bastard for stealing my horse; otherwise, I would have run away long ago.
At this mont, they were truly out of options. Tamara, from Casting Spells excessively, was almost unable to stand, having already consud several bottles of life-saving Potions.
And yet, the battle showed no sign of improvent; in fact, it was getting worse.
They had used everything they could; now, the only option left was to flee.
Why had no one in the group tried to run away before?
It was because individually, none of them was a match for the monster. Only by joining forces could they barely cope. Once their formation broke, the monster would instantly crush them, and then none would escape.
But now, if they didn’t run, they would be done for. They could only take the gamble; whether they survived would depend on their individual escape abilities.
"You two go ahead; I will buy you so ti," the Nun said. She seed to sense the others’ attitudes, her pale face showing only unyielding determination.
As soone chosen by the Holy Fla, she knew that once she embarked on this path, she could never back down. Any sign of wavering was...
It seed she had rembered sothing from her past. An indescribable mix of... conflict and rage appeared on the resolute Nun’s face!
She roared, "Go now!"
Geralt and Tamara both looked conflicted. There was a difference between fleeing on their own initiative and the current situation.
Fleeing on their own wouldn’t weigh on their conscience; if it did, the instinct to survive would override it.
But when a stranger volunteered to cover their retreat and urged them on, they felt ashad of their own inadequacy in the face of such nobility. That feeling was so strong that even the instinct for survival couldn’t overco their pride.
Or perhaps it was conscience. Humans can be so strange at tis.
Nonetheless, the monster, oblivious to their tornted indecision, continued to follow its instincts for slaughter and frenzy.
The Nun, driven by her devout will, prepared to fight to the death. The hidden power within the torch was unearthed, erupting with terrifying spiritual fluctuations.
"Profane creature! Burn in the Holy Fla!" The Nun seized the opportunity, throwing her torch at the monster. The fla swelled to several tis its size, instantly repelling the surrounding darkness. When it landed on the monster, the creature began to spontaneously combust.
"AAAH-AAAH-AAAH!"
The monster was instantly engulfed in flas, turning into a fiery figure, its deep, agonizing howls echoing through the air.
This scene made Geralt and Tamara pause. If she had that power, why didn’t she use it sooner?
But in the next second, the flas on the monster died out. The torch fell to the ground, now completely devoid of spiritual fluctuations.
The fiery attack had burned the monster’s surface, but under the effect of the Power of Flesh and Blood, it healed rapidly, its outer layer reforming into nauseating, wax-like Flesh.
Regardless, the injury had cost the monster dearly. Naturally, its attention shifted to the Nun, and it swung a massive fist at her.
The wind from the fist howled, stirring up shockwaves as it rushed forward with unparalleled power. Against such terrifying strength, armor was no better than leaves.
Facing the incoming fist, however, the Nun remained composed. She had just exhausted the last of the torch’s power—and, of course, her own...
Holy Fla above, I’m ready.
Just then, Geralt burst from the side, trying to save her, but it was already too late.
However, for so unknown reason, the monster’s movent paused for an instant. Simultaneously, Tamara’s Crystal Ball shattered. The last of her Spiritual Essence was drained, and her already pale face beca terrifyingly gaunt, as if her head might loll to the side at any mont.
Geralt seized this chance, thrusting out an Ald Dharma Seal, but surprisingly, he aid it not at the monster, but at the Nun.
The shockwave struck the Nun, sending her flying, while the monster’s fist slamd down, narrowly missing.
The Nun was hurled away. She struggled to get up from the ground. It was painful, but better than being flattened.
Yet she looked at the two of them with a strange expression. She had thought they’d run away.
Geralt naturally sensed her questioning gaze, and a pained smile touched his lips. "I’ve died once before," he said. "There’s nothing left to fear."
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