One Wave Has Yet to Settle Before Another Rises

A strong sense of crisis suddenly hit Ailin like a bucket of ice water, making him shiver and pull him out of the fervent revelry.

"What's wrong?"

The soft, warm girl in my arms is like a kitten.

She wore an elaborately woven, alluring floral crown, her eyes filled with dreamy love. She tilted her head back and nuzzled Ailin's neck, her soft, seductive whispers making the Witcher's ears tingle.

"May King!"

"May Queen!"

The surrounding crowd was still dancing and reveling freely.

Every now and then, a boy would carry another girl and run into the darkness outside the campfire, the girl letting out nervous laughter and screams, struggling incessantly in his arms.

At the nearest campfire, armored soldiers threw bundles of dry pine branches into the fire.

The fiery red light became even more intense and vivid, illuminating the surroundings.

Not far ahead lies the city gate of Arland.

Everything seemed normal.

Although the May Festival parade was coming to an end, the festive atmosphere remained as strong as ever...

No...

Perhaps it was because it was nearing its end that the atmosphere was even more infectious than before.

From any direction, a Ghoul or demon suddenly appeared.

The Exorcism Ritual proceeded as usual.

The Witcher gripped the sharply defined Wolf Emblem in a daze.

Even it didn't make a buzzing sound.

"Is it just my imagination?" the Witcher wondered.

"What's wrong?" A lazy, alluring voice came from his arms again.

The girl pressed one hand against his chest, the firelight in her eyes twinkling like stars.

Then she closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and pouted her delicate red lips.

She was asking for a kiss.

The witcher, suddenly pulled from his revelry, paused, about to lower his head to reciprocate the girl's affection.

"Meteor Shower!"

Someone suddenly shouted, and the revelers erupted into a commotion as if a tide had suddenly surged up.

The Witcher instinctively looked up.

Multicolored stars fell from the sky, leaving long trails of flame.

The dark, cloudless sky was made to look like the finest velvet.

Why are shooting stars multicolored?

A question inexplicably popped into my head.

However, before the Witcher could think it through, as he squinted his eyes trying to see the beautiful scenery, he suddenly felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

Under the twinkling light of "meteors," cavalrymen galloped across the sky.

Skeleton horse, ghost army, bluish-black flames...

Wild Hunt!

So those shooting stars!!!

"Careful!"

"Get down!"

The Witcher roared, but was quickly drowned out by the cacophony of voices.

His waving arms seemed to signal a frenzy of celebration, making the crowd surrounding him even more restless.

"May King!"

People joined in the shouting.

Then several boys picked up the girls and ran into the bushes.

In a way, it had an effect on another level.

Only the girl in his arms heard the anxious cries and, in a daze, followed the sound to see the starlight getting closer and closer.

He regained consciousness in an instant.

Ailin's prophecy was actually true!

There was a real accident May Festival!

Realizing the seriousness of the problem, Mary frantically tried to put a layer of Asery's Water Shield on her boy.

But the other person grabbed her tightly and threw her into the soft grass beside the road.

The next second.

"Boom!"

A violent explosion seemed to shake the heavens and the earth.

The girl, who was being held tightly beneath the witcher, suddenly lost consciousness due to the explosion.

She could only feel the ground tremors that made her feel as if her internal organs were about to shift and shatter.

Her mouth opened and closed as she shouted loudly, but even she herself didn't know what she was shouting.

a long time.

Mary, whose mind went blank from the shock, suddenly felt the Witcher on top of her move.

He slowly got up.

Gravel and dirt fell from his back.

"..."

Mary vaguely saw him speaking.

After a while, an unbearable ringing sound came from my ears.

"Mary... Mary... Are you alright... Can you hear me?"

"Mary! Mary!"

Looking at the anxious expression on the boy's face, a thought suddenly popped into her bewildered mind, completely unrelated to the present moment, and even somewhat inexplicable:

Why didn't that kiss last?

Has the shock made him stupid?

Looking into Mary's wise eyes, Ailin felt a little worried.

The girl waved her right hand in front of her eyes several times before her eyes finally focused.

"I...I'm fine..." Mary said.

The witcher breathed a sigh of relief, pulled her up, and immediately looked up.

There was nothing in the sky; the Wild Hunt that had been passing through this area was nowhere to be seen.

But the city was filled with flames, towering ice clusters, deep fissures, and spikes rising higher than the city gates...

besides...

That deafening, heart-wrenching wail echoed through the sky.

Yet, with its overwhelming presence, it proved that the Witcher was not mistaken.

The Wild Hunt has been here.

And it's the same as it was back then in Gors Velen.

These damned beasts unleash these powerful spells not for conquest or plunder, but simply for amusement.

"Is the goddess's message in the dream meant to warn the Wild Hunt?" The Witcher's mouth tasted bitter.

All the preparations he, the Old Duke, and the High Priest had made were left undone.

Who could have imagined that the unexpected event during the May Festival was neither a monster in the wild nor a spirit that a ritual was intended to exorcise...

Instead, it was those Wild Hunt that inexplicably appeared in the sky.

But why?

Shouldn't their target be Ban Ade, who appeared at Ade Gais's Gate?

Why did you end up in Arland, west of the Gors Velen?

Could it be that they came after him?

But...

If they had already discovered him, why did they only vent their anger on ordinary people instead of coming down to capture him?

to be honest.

With his current strength, even with Vesemir and Vesemir by his side, he wouldn't be a match for the Wild Hunt, who can soar through the skies and unleash powerful spells...

He didn't quite understand it.

In the original story, how did Yennefer, Geralt, Ciri before she awakened her powers manage to escape from these powerful elves time and time again?

"Ailin..." The girl's call interrupted his thoughts.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" The Witcher looked down and gently adjusted the floral crown on her head.

Perhaps because it was protected in time, the flower crown on the girl's head was still bright and beautiful in the flickering firelight.

The girl paused for a moment, then gently shook her head at Ailin's actions.

"I'm fine."

"Go check on the others..."

The Witcher nodded and walked heavily toward the parade route.

Perhaps because the city's flames are more intense and conspicuous.

There weren't many "shooting stars" falling in the suburbs, and even those few didn't hit any of the revelers.

But this does not mean that the men and women who participated in the march were unharmed.

"Shh~"

Walk through the grass.

Ailin and Mary stopped in their tracks.

A huge cluster of ice stands not far away.

Even Ailin and Vesemir, whose physical abilities far surpass those of ordinary people, were seriously injured by the impact of the ice cluster magic when they were in the Gors Velen. How could these ordinary people possibly be unharmed even if they were not hit head-on?

The young boys and girls who once shouted "May King" and "May Queen" and enthusiastically carried Ailin onto the parade platform...

Large groups of people...

At least half of them lay lifeless on the ground, like blood-soaked rag dolls with empty eyes, in front of the ice clusters reflecting the firelight.

Of the remaining half, some were constantly vomiting blood and irregularly shaped chunks of flesh.

Although they are still alive, their internal organs have been shattered, and they will surely die.

This was an injury that even the priests under Meritellie's command could not heal.

The others.

Except for those who ran into the bushes and escaped.

They were all lying on the ground, wailing. They all had some injuries, some abrasions, and some fractures.

However, compared to those young lives that die young, they are already extremely lucky.

"Hehe~"

"Mother!"

"Ugh—Shaq... wake up, Shaq..."

Hearing the mournful cries around him, the Witcher looked up at the sky and clenched his fists tightly.

"Ailin... Ailin..."

Upon witnessing this scene, Mary covered her mouth, large tears streaming down her face, choked with sobs and unable to speak.

The girl didn't know whether it was the relief of surviving the ordeal or the fear of losing her friend.

If it weren't for Ailin protecting her.

Sorceress whose physical abilities are not much stronger than those of an ordinary person might also be one of them.

Feeling the girl trembling in his arms, the witcher sighed and gently patted her back:

"It's alright... it's alright..."

"It's all in the past now..."

For now... it's all over...

The Witcher thought.

There were many wounded on the ground, but there wasn't much the Witcher and Mary could do.

They can only pick those injuries that are relatively minor, such as scratches or fractures.

Mary used the bandages or strips of cloth she carried to bandage the injured.

Ailin then drew his sword and cleaved some neat planks from the wooden platform of the procession, using them to fix the fractures.

Then wait for the priests and healers from the Temple of Melitele to come and further treat the injuries.

Those who were uninjured or only slightly injured saw what Ailin and Mary were doing and silently joined in, doing what they could for the wounded.

However, the two had not yet had time to treat the injuries of the others.

"Da da~ da da~"

The heavy sound of horses' hooves echoed from the direction of the city gates of Arland.

"Ailin! Ailin!"

Vesemir and Vesemir came galloping over, shouting.

Behind them followed a large group of knights dressed in black and gray armor.

"Here!" Ailin stood up and waved.

Mary didn't hear anyone call her name.

However, upon seeing her mentor and Vesemir under these circumstances, her eyes reddened and she stood up with tears in her eyes.

Before the horse had even stopped, she, still reeling from the near-death experience, was overcome with emotion and wanted to throw herself into Vesemir's arms.

Unexpectedly, after Vesemir jumped off her horse, she nimbly dodged and quickly took a few steps to catch Ailin in her arms:

"Are you alright, Ailin?"

Are you hurt anywhere?

Ailin, inhaling the sweet scent of oranges and cardamom, gently patted Vesemir's back and said softly:

"I'm fine, I'm not hurt at all..."

Under Mary's resentful gaze, the Witcher hesitated for a second before saying:

Mary wasn't hurt either.

However, Vesemir acted as if she hadn't heard the second half of his sentence. She grabbed Ailin's shoulder and looked him up and down for a while before finally letting out a sigh of relief.

Feeling uncomfortable under Mary's constant stare, Ailin changed the subject and asked:

"Where 'Yennefer? How's the situation in the city now...?"

Vesemir shook her head, preparing to answer.

At this moment.

The knights who had been following Vesemir and Vesemir caught up as well.

After dismounting, the leading officer quickly walked up to Vesemir, carrying a bag, and said urgently:

"Lady Vesemir, all the materials have arrived. Please set up the ceremony as soon as possible."

Setting up a ceremony?

Ailin paused for a moment.

Without further ado, the Sorceress smiled apologetically at Ailin and then carried the bag of materials to the deserted road beside the ice cluster.

Chalk, glass, sulfur, magic dust...

Isn't this a material for Magic Ritual that increase mana capacity and enhance spell power?

"Yennefer is safe," Vesemir said, stepping over to continue their conversation. "Ianna has arranged for Lyra to take care of her..."

"As for the situation in the city..."

The Witcher Master shook his head and sighed.

This is the busiest time of year in Arlanders. Even though most of the May Festival celebrations are for young people, there are still plenty of performances in the city.

There were many people gathered.

The Witcher Master said in a somber tone:

"Many people died in Arland, and a fire spell happened to hit the Arland market square."

"Many taverns, in celebration of May Festival, put out many barrels of wine for people to take for themselves, so it was the most crowded place in the whole city."

"After the disaster ended, the panicked crowd trampled each other, and even more people died..."

Vesemir paused for a second, glanced at the horrific scene around him, cursed "Damn Wild Hunt!" and then said gravely:

"The priests and healers of the Temple of Melitele are all inside the city treating the wounded; they certainly won't be able to spare anyone to leave the city at this time..."

"In fact, if it weren't for the possibility of even bigger problems outside the city, the Old Duke wouldn't have been able to spare so many soldiers..."

"A bigger problem?" The Witcher looked up in confusion.

The Wild Hunt has already left, so what problems could there be?

Could they possibly be coming back?

besides...

Ailin looked at Vesemir, who was focused on setting up the ceremony.

The ritual circle of three intersecting circles that she drew on the ground with chalk was undoubtedly the Magic Ritual that the Witcher had just learned recently.

At this time, a ritual to increase magical capacity and enhance spell power will be performed here...

What kind of monster are they guarding against?

but.

Before he could even ask the question...

"Buzz~"

"Buzz~"

The wolf head badges with gaping, bloodthirsty maws on Ailin's and Vesemir's chests trembled simultaneously.

"Splash splash~"

A cold wind swept in from all directions, causing the campfire, which hadn't been fueled for a long time, to flicker and quickly go out.

A chill instantly seeped from his tailbone to his scalp, and the Witcher looked in the direction of his intense sense of danger.

The next moment.

Ailin opened his mouth wide and swore:

"Grass!"