The Witcher: Lord of the Empire

"Run! Run! Run quickly!"

The rocks began to fall in all directions, as if they had detonated an explosion. In the midst of the dark, golden flashes indicated that the Witchers of the Viper School had activated the Quen Sign.

With a thunderous roar, the gigantic figure of the Cyclops rose once again in the gloom.

Lann, realizing the danger facing the Witchers of the Viper School, let his eyes shine with an emerald glow. Time seemed to slow down before him.

[Blink]!

A gold flash appeared behind the colossus, while Lann lifted his Runic sword. Using all his strength the launching a descending blow.

[Puff!]

The sword penetrated just a third in the cyclops' neck before being trapped between his muscles, without being able to advance more.

Old Spear Tip, who had not been injured for a long time, forgot for a moment to the other Witchers and, as if he were crushing a mosquito, threw a swipe towards Lann.

Lann, with his feet firmly planted on the neck of Old Speartip, threw hard to get his sword. In doing so, a burst of wind prevented him from opening his eyes and saw how the enormous hand of Old Speartip approached him.

A buzz resounded, and Lann's figure disappeared in a magic Emerald energy just when the hand of Old Speartip crushed his own neck, causing him to shout in pain.

Lann reappeared a few meters further and said: "Hey, Lambert. It seems like the only one who can hurt the Cyclops is himself. Do you think you could use your upgraded version of the Axii Sign to make him hurt himself?"

Lambert curled his lips. "I think we should give new friends a chance to show off."

"This is no time for jokes!" Mousesack shouted. "Lann, can you use your strange sword techniques to fight him?"

The Cyclops is like a warrior with no weak points. There was no choice but to face him head on, and that was the reason why the Wolf School had been unable to get rid of Old Speartip.

After thinking about it for a moment, Lann nodded. "I'll need time to prepare, but I can cut it."

"To be honest, I regret not bringing a crossbow with me!"

Mousesack knew a little about the effects of some of Lann's system skills that he used in combat. The other witchers didn't understand but chose to believe.

"Then let's follow the plan!"

The witchers moved in sync, tapping the ground as Yrden's magical signs filled the cave with violet light, forming a magical matrix. Each sign lined up carefully, avoiding harming their companions.

Old Speartip charged at them, striking the signs that sparkled with violet energy. Despite its magical resistance, the monster stumbled for a moment, but still, its advance was unstoppable.

Lann also joined in and slammed his hands on the ground, raising a Yrden Sign magic circle larger than all the others combined. After multiple overlaps, Old Speartip's figure finally visibly slowed down.

Vesemir swung his silver sword in surprise in Lann's magic circle, feeling his unobstructed body. "Your sign can actually distinguish between enemies and friends."

At the same time, watching Lann's sign turn into purple lightning and strike the giant's body, splashing a spark from time to time, Coën fell into deep thought.

"Don't look at it stupidly, retreat!"

Everyone ran towards the cave entrance. Only with the slowing effect of the magical signs were they able to escape the pursuit of the gigantic creature.

Sunlight soon appeared in front of them again. Seeing this, the witchers slowed down a bit and carefully avoided the traps they had set up earlier.

Lann, however, seemed unconcerned. With a malicious smile, he spotted a ceramic pot half-buried in the ground and kicked it hard, sending a thick green smoke into the air.

It was the Dragon's Dream alchemical bomb, a flammable and toxic gas.

All around him, other traps could be seen. At first glance, there were more than a hundred traps prepared.

Lann turned around, raising her left hand in preparation to release the magic sign.

Deep within the cave, a huge shadow that had already overcome the slowing effect of the Yrden Sign's magic circle was getting closer and closer.

Coën stepped forward and stood side by side with Lann. Lann did not reject his companion's kindness. After a glance, he slightly reduced the amount of magic power in his body to be output and prepared to attack with the sign.

He looked down and noticed that the stones on the ground were shaking more intensely, while the roar resonated like thunder.

Vesemir suddenly stepped forward, gently patted the shoulders of the two young men, and signaled them to step back.

"Leave it to me. This is Wolf School's revenge; we can't just stand by and watch." Vesemir's face was serious. "I still have a little confidence in my Igni Sign."

Lann and Coën looked at each other, nodded and took a step back, giving way to the old witcher, but always ready to support.

Vesemir took a deep breath, as if he were transmitting all the emotions repressed from years into his left hand. The tips of his fingers trembled slightly. Even though he had not yet lit the fire, the air around him was beginning to distort due to the high temperature.

In the next second, the beast's roar became clearly audible.

At the same time, a torrent of flames erupted furiously, releasing the rage contained within.

Lann narrowed his eyes as the blazing, sun-like flame erupted. The water quickly vaporized, creating a curtain of smoke that obscured everyone's vision. The grass suddenly lost all of its moisture, instantly wilting.

At the same time, all the fuses on the bombs the witchers had left exposed as traps began to burn. There was no need for the flames to reach them; with just the distorted heat of the air touching them, the bombs were prepared to explode naturally.

Only a deafening explosion rang out, and Mousesack stabbed his staff into the ground. In an instant, green vines enveloped them all, followed by a membrane of green light that spread out, binding the vines into a solid magic shield.

Stones flew around him, and shrapnel from the alchemical bombs crashed against the shield, causing ripples on its surface.

They weren't too far from the center of the explosion, but Mousesack looked completely calm. It was obvious that the impact of the explosion of hundreds of alchemical bombs couldn't threaten him at all.

"Uncle Mousesack, is everything ok?"

"If I were at the epicenter of the explosion, there might be problems." Mousesack shook his head. "But here in the mountain forest, even in winter, I still have a good control over the forces of nature."

"Lann, sorcerers can draw power from nature in ways you can't even imagine. So if you're up against a sorcerer, try not to use these alchemy bombs." Mousesack reminded Lann without the slightest hesitation. "If you can use dimeritium, do so. The dimeritium arrows you carry are a very good option."

"That new teleportation ability you've acquired is very useful. Use that to appear behind! No matter how powerful a sorcerer is, he's just flesh and blood. Once you bypass the magic shield, you'll only need one stab!"

Lann nodded, understanding that this was Mousesack's good will.

His other companions exchanged strange glances; watching a druid teach a witcher how to kill a sorcerer felt a bit out of place.

As Mousesack took the moment to instruct Lann, the ripples from the explosion began to dissipate.

The thick black cloud slowly rose, revealing smoke-blackened rock walls. The cave entrance had collapsed, burying the Cyclops; on the other side of the lake, terrified noises could be heard as figures shot out of the water, probably drowners. Not far away, a rumbling could be heard, indicating that some snow-covered slope had suffered an avalanche, although the snowfall was not very dense, so it should not cause much trouble.

The Cyclops was completely buried, with only one hand hanging out of the rocks.

Even before the witchers could begin to check the situation, the hanging hand clenched into a tight fist. With a rumble, the cyclops emerged from the rubble, reappearing before everyone.

At this moment, his appearance was a thousand times more miserable than when they first saw him. The hood he was wearing had turned to ashes, and his pants were gone as well. Furthermore, his body was covered in open wounds, with blood gushing out and charred flesh.

At the same time, there were dense steel nails and ceramic fragments nailed on his body.

Despite his miserable appearance, the Cyclops still retained much of his strength, which was truly impressive.

However, despite not having suffered mortal damage, the exposed wounds gave the Viper School's witchers the opportunity to attack.

Lann charged forward, slamming his hand into the ground, and the next moment the Yrden Sign's magic array appeared. The Viper School's witchers were already familiar with that special sign and moved in perfect synchronicity, dodging the purple lightning bolts while a wave of poisons launched towards the cyclops.

A crossbow bolt shot towards the cyclops's huge eye, which simply closed its eyelids to block it. Distracted, the cyclops opened its eyes furiously and looked towards the direction the arrow came from, finding before it several hands glowing white.

[Axii Sign]

The Old Speartip had just awakened from its slumber, and was also stunned by the explosion, and now facing the mind control of several witchers, it finally calmed down for the first time.

Although the control lasted only five breaths, that was enough time for the Viper School witchers to accomplish their task.

At this moment, the Cyclops was surrounded by all kinds of colorful toxic mist, and his body was covered with poisoned weapon wounds.

Letho rolled back. "These poisons are all we have, and the dosage is enough to poison an entire military camp!"

"Very good, retreat! Wait for the poison to take effect!"

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