Hurry Up and Teleport!

How much longer?

Ailin quietly squeezed Francesca's hand.

Two minutes!

The Valley Daisy answered instinctively.

His right hand, which was being pinched, tried to pull back uncomfortably, but when he opened his eyes, he saw the menacing Rock Troll all around him.

Startled, she instinctively gripped Ailin's hand tightly, only letting go after several seconds.

Huh?

Why are so many monsters just standing still?

And the Witcher, the house... what are they saying?

Following the Witcher's instructions, Francesca was completely absorbed in recovering her Divine Power and did not notice the commotion outside.

At this moment.

She noticed that although the Rock Troll around her were all large and fierce-looking, none of them attacked them.

Her beautiful blue eyes lit up instantly, and she looked at the Witcher in surprise.

"Witcher, how... how did you do that?"

"Shh!"

Ailin pressed his index finger to his lips without turning around.

His attention was fixed on the Mountain Stone, and he said softly:

"When I call your name, hug my neck tightly and don't let go, do you hear me?"

"Ah?"

Francesca tilted her head in confusion.

Before she could ask any further questions...

"Roar!"

The moment the Mountain Stone roared, the Witcher instantly switched his silver sword to his right hand and immediately cast a Quen Shield on himself again.

"... Witcher enemy... Metal rod injured... Troll away... Stone... Smash!!!"

Before he could finish speaking, Mountain Stone raised a huge boulder, about the size of Ailin, to his side.

"Francesca!" Ailin shouted.

He then suddenly grabbed "Valley Daisy" by the waist and held her in his arms.

Francesca then understood the meaning behind the Witcher's words and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

So light!

A thought flashed through Ailin's mind.

This elf doesn't seem to be as heavy as Elsa.

The next moment, the Witcher smelled a fragrance of white roses and cedar.

However, Ailin no longer had any extra energy to spare for Francesca.

He clenched his teeth, his muscles congested with blood, and stomped his right foot forward.

"Phew~"

A large Big Stone as him, grazed his hair and crashed to the ground behind him almost as he took a step forward.

The howling wind blew the hair on his forehead.

"Boom!"

The moment the boulder struck the ground, it shattered into countless fragments that scattered in all directions.

Some of them flew directly towards the Witcher's back.

However, the shield formed by the 41 points of mystery combined with the LV3 Quen Sign is clearly not something that these flying shards can break.

The pale gold shield attached to the leather armor disappeared again after a brief alternation of light and shadow.

"Ah!"

A scream.

The boulder flew past right in front of us.

With the night vision provided by the night hood, Francesca could clearly see the texture of the cracks on the rock surface.

The shadow of death had never been so close to her, not even half a meter away.

This "novel" experience made Francesca scream in fear.

Screams exploded in my ears.

Ailin thought Francesca had been grazed by the gravel.

Then, on a whim, he slipped his left hand under Francesca's knee and gripped his right waist tightly.

While securing Francesca's lower leg, support her thigh.

Then...

"Bend over, lower your head, and shrink back!"

Ailin ducked to avoid a stone thrown from his right and shouted.

Terrified, Francesca quickly complied, curling up like a baby and gripping the front of the Witcher's leather armor tightly with both hands.

"Continue to restore Divine Power!"

Sensing that Francesca had adjusted her movements, Ailin immediately quickened his pace.

Thirty-one points of strength, though not enough for Ailin to easily drag the Drowners King back to Kaer Morhen like Vesemir.

But Francesca, who is light and probably only weighs seventy or eighty pounds, shouldn't have too much of an impact on Ailin's skills.

At least not when running away.

In the vast cave, various stones flew through the air, then, carrying gray dust, rained down on Ailin like a storm.

It's impossible for a witcher to dodge all the stones.

He could only do his best to dodge the Big Stone and let the Quen Shield absorb the damage from the smaller, slower rocks.

After dodging a huge boulder that came crashing down from the Mountain Stone, the Witcher suddenly noticed something.

"Clang!"

The silver sword was sheathed.

Under such an offensive, with his current strength, he couldn't split the incoming stones with his silver sword.

But to actually wound or kill one or two Rock Troll would not only be pointless, but also extremely dangerous.

Ailin learned about the Rock Troll's attack patterns from the Big Stone.

Throwing stones was merely a test and a warning, intended to drive away or intimidate the enemy, and rarely contained any intention to kill.

In their simple minds, this is even a way of playing with each other.

As Ailin dodged, he noticed that there were many smaller Rock Troll that started to fight each other while throwing things at each other.

Many other trolls were also slacking off, only focusing on the first wave of attacks, and their throwing frequency decreased significantly afterward.

The Witcher even caught a glimpse of a Rock Troll glancing at the Mountain Stone, its tiny, beady Little Eye darting around, before it threw a stone that barely traveled a meter.

There aren't many Rock Troll that are actually attacking seriously.

Obviously.

Although it's unclear what Vesemir did, not all Rock Troll were hostile towards him.

However, if any Rock Troll is actually harmed...

Suddenly, an image of more than a dozen stone mountains rushing towards him flashed into his mind, and Ailin trembled all over.

therefore.

Since the silver sword is useless, it's better to free up one hand to cast a spell, which will also allow me to disguise myself and lower the morale of the other trolls.

"Bang!"

The semi-transparent shockwave instantly swept past the Rock Troll four meters away, causing it to lose its balance while holding the rock and instinctively let go of its hands.

The stone, subjected to gravity, fell and struck the troll on the head.

"Aww!"

After a scream, it rolled into a ball on the ground, and whether intentionally or unintentionally, it knocked down two Rock Troll next to it.

"Well..."

"This is a pleasant surprise!"

Ailin, finding amusement in his predicament, was about to quickly turn and charge towards the fallen Rock Troll, using the other trolls as shields.

"Bang!"

The Quen Shield suddenly shattered.

"The attack is coming from behind!"

The Witcher frowned, using his mind to direct the shockwave to explode directly in the direction it was hit, preventing it from affecting Francesca in his arms.

"Hiss~"

As he turned around and bent over, Ailin gasped for breath.

I got hit!

The Quen Shield and the shockwave from its explosion failed to completely block the impact.

Ailin steadied himself, enduring the stinging pain in his latissimus dorsi muscles, and quickly continued to use his right hand on Quen.

"Bang! Bang!"

In the instant the pale golden light flashed, two more stones, each the size of a human head, magnified before my eyes.

The sudden injury did interfere with Ailin's movements; the pain caused her to pause in her twisting and dodging motion.

The shield that had just been restored was broken again.

"Hmph~"

Another muffled groan.

I felt a sharp, intense pain in my right shoulder and lower back at the same time.

Something's wrong with these two stones!

How could someone still get hurt when the barrier was blocked?

No!

Even the previous one didn't seem right.

He had clearly calculated the damage; how could the size of that rock have broken the Quen Sign so suddenly?

After reactivating the shield, Ailin suddenly looked up.

The direction from which the three stones were thrown was where the largest Rock Troll in the cave stood.

It's Mountain Stone.

At some point, it changed the stones it was throwing to "small" stones that had just been thrown at it.

"Whoosh!"

"Whoosh!"

"Whoosh!"

The sharp, piercing sound sent chills down Ailin's spine.

Damn it!

Is Big Stone serious?

Was throwing stones truly a test and a warning, without any intention to kill?

The Mountain Stone not only wanted to kill him, but even changed the type of shell depending on the situation...

Ailin flinched and dodged.

"Vesemir! What exactly did you do to the Mountain Stone?"

"Bang! Bang!"

Of the three stones, he only managed to dodge two.

The Witcher gritted his teeth and tensed his muscles, watching as the rock shattered the Quen Shield on the left, and then a faint brownish-yellow light shone through, completely unaffected by the shockwave.

The skin on his deltoid muscle seemed to have been hit hard by a heavy punch, and it suddenly caved in.

"Ah!"

A sharp pain shot through him, and Ailin couldn't help but cry out in agony.

What the heck?

How come the stones thrown by the Rock Troll have magical effects?

"What's wrong, Witcher? Are you alright?" An anxious voice came from inside his arms.

Francesca knew she was now a burden.

In order not to hinder the Witcher's actions, she tried her best to curl up her body, adopting an extremely uncomfortable posture to reduce her body size.

At the same time, he constantly switched the force of his hands according to the direction the Witcher was running, trying to avoid touching his limbs.

Therefore, all she could see was darkness, and she couldn't see anything outside. She could only try to recover her Divine Power and trust that the Witcher could protect her.

but.

The Witcher did just that, and didn't let Francesca get hurt at all.

Just that tremor, that cry of pain...

The Witcher is injured!

Ignoring Francesca, Ailin finished off another Quen and rushed to the back of the fallen Rock Troll, crouching down and panting.

"Bang! Bang!"

Stones continued to be thrown at them, but with the strength of the Quen Shield, it could withstand at least five such attacks unless they were from Mountain Stone.

This is the temporary shelter that Ailin came up with in a flash of inspiration.

A temporary refuge on the battlefield that can only withstand five attacks.

"Are you alright, Witcher?" Francesca noticed Ailin pause and looked up to ask with concern.

If she hadn't been momentarily carried away by her success and wanted to show off her magic, how could this have happened...?

She felt worried and guilty.

The Witcher formed an Alde Sign with his right hand, preventing the "shield" in front of him from standing up. Then, upon hearing the sound, he looked down and met a pair of blue eyes.

Regret, guilt, sadness, inferiority...

The emotions in those beautiful eyes were so complex that they were hard to understand.

"It's nothing, just some minor injuries. Your Divine Power still needs to recover..."

"Roar~"

The Mountain Stone roared again, interrupting their conversation.

"... The little troll is lazy... no meat... the fist of the Mountain Stone... every lazy little troll gets one!"

The Mountain Stone were so annoyed by the lazy Rock Troll that their sentences became much more coherent.

"Oh no!" Ailin thought to himself.

really.

The moment the Mountain Stone roared in fury, stones of all sizes rained down like a torrential downpour.

Ailin's forehead veins bulged as he moved swiftly, darting left and right around the small area concealed by the three Rock Troll.

With a flick of his right hand, leaving afterimages, the Quen Shield shattered almost instantly upon being struck by an unavoidable rock.

Pale golden magic fragments drifted and scattered in the darkness, never ceasing.

The scene was surprisingly beautiful.

Although the Witcher certainly doesn't think that way, neither do the Elves.

The elf gripped Ailin's leather armor tightly, and the faint smell of rust seeped through the black mask, causing her to shudder involuntarily.

The Witcher's protection has left her completely unharmed.

So the one bleeding is...

Francesca looked up, trembling, and just then, a drop of blood fell onto her forehead.

One drop, two drops, three drops...

The warmth of her blood made her heart race, causing him to grip the Witcher's leather armor so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

At that moment, everything around seemed to fall silent.

Her lips were pursed, her nose was straight and prominent...

And the bloodstains that flowed down his forehead, tracing the length of his face.

Suddenly, she remembered decades ago, when the Aelirenn Uprising broke out, her father had held her in the same way and led her to escape from Shaer Lavhed.

Escape that blood-soaked battlefield where humans and Ian Siddi were locked in a bloodbath.

Why was Ain Savigny, the father, unwilling to lead his people in rebellion?

If I had joined Laurelin's army back then, with those experienced and powerful mages under my father's command, would things have been different?

Would they then be spared the loss of their homes, their people, and their... closest relatives?

She wouldn't have needed to escape her father's control and come here for some vague clue.

And that won't happen...

"Ah?"

The Witcher suddenly stopped, interrupting Francesca's self-reproach.

"Valley Daisy" watched as the Witcher's expression suddenly changed from surprise to terror and despair, as if realizing something, and turned her head to look.

Two spherical boulders, each as tall as a Witcher, rapidly magnified before their eyes.

No!

That's not a stone!

Those were two living Rock Troll!!!

They were still making clumsy adjustments in mid-air, cleverly using the rocks on their backs to face the witchers and elves when they were only three meters away.

Before she could even process her emotions, Francesca suddenly felt her thigh being lifted sharply.

She turned around instinctively.

The witcher was shouting something at him with his mouth wide open.

What is he saying?

Francesca was momentarily curious.

The moment she had this thought, the silent world vanished, and she heard it.

The Witcher is calling her name.

"Francesca!"

"Is it fully recovered?"

"Teleport me quickly!!!"