“Huff…”
Geralt ignored the blackthorn bushes at his feet, his white hair whipping in the wind.
He braced his right hand against the ground and vaulted down from the three-meter-high rock face.
His amber slit pupils locked onto Alvin, who was about to be dragged beneath the water.
Faster.
He bent his knees to absorb the impact, then shot forward, spraying wet mud behind him.
The twelve Drowners still on the shore noticed Geralt and turned as one, their eyes cold.
“Ha!”
A roar rang out.
As if they had received the Drowned Dead’s command, they shrieked and rushed to intercept the white-haired youth.
Silver light cut through the darkness.
A hideous Drowner head flew into the air, and foul blood splashed across the marsh.
The sword dance of a Wolf School Witcher had been born to hunt monsters.
The Drowners’ encirclement did not slow Geralt down.
Instead, it only made him faster.
The sword light spun like a full moon.
The twelve Drowners that had caused Alvin so much trouble were cut down by Geralt in a single charge.
Without the slightest hesitation, Geralt gripped his Silver Sword and plunged into the water.
Violent splashing sounded for a while, then everything went still again.
Vesemir quickly reached the shore as well, his cat-like eyes narrowed to needle-thin slits, dark veins bulging around his eye sockets.
He had already taken a potion.
In the darkness, he could see more clearly than he could in broad daylight.
Even so, he could not see through the layers of river water.
“Splash!”
A figure broke through the surface.
Moonlight fell on his soaked white hair, making it gleam.
“How is it?”
Geralt treaded water, breathing hard.
“I couldn’t find him.
It’s too dark down there.”
Vesemir did not hesitate.
He drew his sword and jumped into the water, ready to search below with Geralt.
His heart was tight with anxiety.
Witchers were not suited to fighting in water.
Even Vesemir was no exception.
And the thing fighting Alvin was not a Drowner, but a Drowned Dead.
Without help, Alvin was almost certainly doomed.
He had to act.
As for the rules of the Witcher Trial, he had already chosen to forget them.
After all, he was the head of Kaer Morhen now.
A fierce gust swept down from overhead.
“Wait.”
Vries’s voice came from above them.
Geralt looked up and saw her descending from the cliff, stepping directly onto the air above their heads, her white dress fluttering.
A sorceress…
As Geralt’s expression shifted, Vesemir’s voice sounded.
“Vries, where is he?
We need your help.”
Vesemir knew that with her aid, finding Alvin would take no effort at all.
But it had to be fast.
He did not want to lose such an outstanding Apprentice so easily.
Vries lightly brushed the ruby at her chest.
Her mental energy spread across the surrounding hundred meters, piercing through the murky river water.
“Hm?”
A surprised sound escaped Vries’s mouth.
Her mental energy had been fixed on Alvin all along, but his condition was the exact opposite of what she had expected.
He was not struggling desperately in the water like a drowning man.
Instead, he was locked in a fierce struggle with the Drowned Dead, his movements extremely intense.
Even for a mutant, that went completely against common sense.
After all, intense movement consumed large amounts of oxygen, and underwater, that consumption would be even greater.
Alvin was like a fish, as though he could breathe underwater.
“Vries!?”
“He’s still all right.
Don’t distract me!”
After shouting, Vries stretched out both hands and began to chant softly.
Magic gathered, and waves started to rise across the river.
…
Underwater, Alvin was wrapped in the icy river, his cheeks bulging as bubbles large and small streamed out.
[Underwater Breathing] filtered the river water and continuously supplied him with oxygen, but its time was limited.
It could only last twenty minutes.
“Splash!”
The sound of rushing water came from behind him, and searing pain flared across his back.
The Drowned Dead had clawed him.
Alvin spun around quickly, but his vision was clouded and pitch-black.
Whether it was his cat eyes or the night vision granted by the [Cat] potion, their effect underwater was barely better than nothing.
Worse still, the Necrophage Blade Oil on his Silver Sword had long since been washed away by the river.
“Splash!
Splash!”
His adrenaline surged to its limit, and he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Alvin paddled with all four limbs, swimming toward the surface, but the rush of water kept closing in.
The Drowned Dead was nearby, taking aim at him.
Alvin forced himself to stay calm, his eyes searching constantly for its shape.
“Hiss…”
Alvin grimaced in pain as the Drowned Dead clawed his calf again.
When he looked down, all he could see was its quickly vanishing shadow.
The Drowned Dead was toying with him.
It was taking revenge, meaning to torment him to death.
That damned beast!
The pitch-black surroundings, a monster far more agile than he was, and a twenty-minute countdown.
The emotions that should have been suppressed by mutations and potions suddenly broke apart.
Panic drowned him like a waterfall.
What should he do?
What was he supposed to do?
Alvin’s breathing quickened.
Then, suddenly, a voice rang out from deep within his heart.
“Your left hand.
Watch your left hand!”
It’s Vries!
Alvin jolted as though he had seized a lifeline.
He swung the Silver Sword in his hand with such force that he cut a string of bubbles through the water.
“Clang!”
A dull impact traveled from the blade into both arms, and a shrill scream echoed faintly through the water.
Alvin’s spirits surged.
Found you!
The muscles in his arms tightened.
He put more force into the slash while also pulling himself closer to the Drowned Dead.
What he had not expected was that the Drowned Dead had both hands clamped firmly around the blade of the Silver Sword.
Even as its scales cracked and its flesh corroded, it showed no intention of letting go.
It suddenly exerted force, dragging Alvin downward.
Alvin understood what it was trying to do.
It wanted to pull him into deeper water.
Down there, [Underwater Breathing] would be greatly weakened, and the terrifying water pressure alone could make his body collapse.
He had to kill it now.
Alvin pressed down on the sword with his right hand, raised his left arm, and threw a desperate punch, smashing it hard into the Drowned Dead’s head.
Crack!
The two rows of sharp teeth broke, and the blood made his vision even murkier.
Once, twice, three times.
Heavy blow after heavy blow.
The Drowned Dead’s dead fish eyes filled with blood, its head swimming.
Its hands released the Silver Sword and began flailing awkwardly at Alvin instead.
The two rows of broken teeth kept snapping at Alvin’s face, but Alvin’s fists knocked them back each time.
Alvin had only one thought now.
Survive.
I have to survive!
His left hand shot out and locked onto the fin at the back of the Drowned Dead’s head, completely ignoring its attacks.
He stomped a foot into the Drowned Dead’s abdomen and used the leverage to pull the Silver Sword free from its flesh with his right arm.
Die!
He held down the Drowned Dead’s head and swung his sword again.
Extreme terror burst through the Drowned Dead’s pupils, until its vision went black and it lost all connection to the body beneath its neck.
Even at the moment of death, it never understood.
How could a Human survive underwater for so long?
Was he some new breed of Drowner?
[School of the Wolf Witcher Swordsmanship Experience +10!]
[Defeated Drowned Dead (BOSS), 100% chance to obtain Drowned Dead Mutagen]
…
The moon slipped out from behind the clouds, casting down a faint wash of light.
Vries lowered her hands and landed on the riverbank.
Vesemir and Geralt were both full of confusion, but they caught the faint, almost hidden smile beneath her hood.
The river stirred with the sound of rushing water, and everyone turned to look.
A black-haired youth slowly climbed out of the water.
His clothes were in tatters, his body covered in wounds, and his steps were heavy.
In his right hand, he held the Silver Sword.
In his left, he carried an enormous Drowner head.
Large drops of water streamed down from his black hair, running past the bridge of his nose and revealing his snake-like gray slit pupils.