Golden Light Flashed Repeatedly in the Icon Chamber Once More

"The Child of Miracle..."

"Time is running out in this world."

The sacred music lingered and gradually disappeared into the void.

The three ritual objects representing the young girl, the pregnant woman, and the old woman also "burned" to their end at this moment, leaving behind a pile of ashes.

Looking at the statue of Meritellie, now restored to its original dilapidated state under the flickering candlelight, Ailin had a very strong premonition.

Even if another Meritellie's Concealment Ritual, the goddess cannot be summoned again, at least not in the near future.

She's lying to you.

Suddenly, the image of a pregnant woman's reproachful tone flashed through his mind, and he gently touched the spot on his forehead where the goddess had kissed him.

"What are you trying to lie to me about?" He looked up at the pretty statue of the young girl, tilted his head, and frowned as he thought back.

Etc!

Ailin seemed to realize something, and her azure Cat Eyes suddenly narrowed.

The Divine Power that endured due to the Conjunction of the Spheres is only enough to accomplish one thing: a harvest blessing or a holy shield and holy power?

"Only one thing can be accomplished..."

"Could this kiss be a blessing for a bountiful harvest?!"

He opened the Witcher's Handbook with rapid breathing.

[Treasure Chests: 18 Ain El '@#￥%&'s Chest, 18 Sorcerer's Chest, 5 Spiked Fiend's Chest 'Giant Ghoul's Chest, 5 Ghoul's Chest, 5 Rotfiend's Chest]

A thought arose.

[Open the Ghoul's Chest *5?]

As is customary, Ailin was preparing to experiment with a low-level @#￥%&'s Chest.

"No!"

The mind contracted abruptly, as if struck by a nail.

"What if the Harvest Blessing is paid per piece rather than per hour? Wouldn't it be a huge loss to waste it on Ghoul's Chest?" Ailin thought to himself.

He never considered conserving his strength before a battle he wasn't sure of winning; that would be disrespectful to his own life.

Anyway, all these treasure chests will be opened tonight.

Ailin steeled himself and took a deep breath.

"Homage to the Mother of All Things, Goddess of fertility, harvest, and childbirth, eternal maiden, mother, and guardian of the old..."

After finishing his daily prayer for good luck, he added:

"I hope the cutscene will show me White Frost!"

[Ding! Ion El '@#￥%&'s Chest *18 has been opened]

A blinding golden light burst forth from the elven-style @#￥%&'s Chest, its branches and leaves intertwined, the very first moment after the Witcher System Notification sounded.

Immediately afterwards.

It was a continuous stream of golden light.

Gold, gold, gold, gold, gold, gold, gold, purple, gold... purple, blue, white...

Nine gold, two purple, three blue, and four white!

"It really is a blessing for a bountiful harvest!" Ailin clenched his fists excitedly, but at the same time, he was also terrified.

From gold to purple to blue to white...

Clearly, the harvest blessing did indeed act as he had predicted, like some kind of energy, being consumed with each opening of the box.

Last time, the Nekker's Chest eight gold and one purple items, but we hadn't reached our limit of consumption yet.

I have to say, this is quite reasonable.

"Luckily I didn't use the Ghoul treasure chest to boost my luck, otherwise I would have really lost out..." He reached up and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

Although, according to the pattern, most of the gold-quality items from monster @#￥%&'s Chest in the Witcher world are recipes from The Witcher 3, the prize pools are actually not that different.

It seems that only otherworldly creatures like the Drowners King and the One-Eyed Nekker, which come from the Conjunction of the Spheres, have a unique prize pool.

This is somewhat strange, since most of the monsters in the Witcher world ultimately come from another world.

But can Ion El, who conquers various realms and is the main boss in the original work and game, really be considered a monster in the Witcher world?

[Ding! Treasure chest quality meets requirements: Gold/Gold; quantity meets requirements: 9/7; type meets requirements: System Item/System Item. Merge chests?]

"Um?"

"It's no longer a skill?"

Ailin looked at the changes in the system notification with some confusion, but after thinking about it, he still chose to confirm.

The next second.

The @#￥%&'s Chest that was bursting with golden light before their eyes almost simultaneously began to tremble with light.

Then, under immense force, like repulsive magnets, they resisted and trembled as they slowly moved toward the center, while the other treasure chests were pushed toward the edges.

The seven golden beams drew closer and closer until they almost overlapped.

At the center of the dazzling light, it seemed unable to withstand some powerful force and suddenly collapsed into a black hole.

The seven golden treasure chests suddenly stopped and paused for a moment.

In an instant, they were sucked into the black hole.

However, unlike the time when the Path of the Beast Roar was opened, the deep red, dazzling light dissipated almost as soon as the golden treasure chest entered the black hole.

"Sure enough, last time was different," he thought. "The sound of chains behind the black hole and the ominous, furious roar were definitely not the normal cutscene for the seven-in-one treasure chest..."

So here's the question...

What is the master of the roaring creature chained up?

The Path of the Beast Roar was "stolen" from it by the Witcher's Handbook. Is this path related to the owner of that roar?

What exactly is the Witcher's Handbook?

A torrent of thoughts surged in my mind, while the red light emanating from the black hole gradually faded away.

Immediately afterwards, everything in Ailin's vision dimmed, bringing him back to his senses, and he focused intently on everything before him.

"Ta-da~ Ta-da~"

The rapid sound of horses' hooves rang in his ears as he spurred his horse and galloped through the deepest darkness.

"How many people are left?" someone asked.

He tilted his head.

On the right was a man wearing a leather mage robe with brown and gray-blue stripes. A large sapphire, shimmering with a mesmerizing azure light, was set in the collar of his robe, and a black cloak fluttered behind him.

He rode a skeletal horse engulfed in green flames, wielding an exquisitely carved scepter, pointing forward.

Following the blue threads projected from the scepter, Ailin then discovered that there was a blue cone-shaped magical barrier around him.

It was protecting them, and behind them...

"Thirteen, Lord Avallac, forty-one of our people have already disappeared..."

"If we can't find the 'door,' we will eventually be swallowed up by the White Frost..."

Ailin heard himself "speak".

The two Wild Hunt were communicating with Mental Fluctuation. "Ailin's" tone was extremely cold, showing no sign of the urgency implied in his words.

Avallac... White Frost...

White Frost!

They are being chased by the White Frost!

White Frost is behind me!

Ailin strained to turn his head to look behind him, but all he saw was a skeletal horse galloping at full speed, spewing green flames, and Wild Hunt that looked like a normal elf on top of it.

Behind the Wild Hunt was a blue magical barrier.

His line of sight was limited to within the barrier; beyond it lay a tangible darkness.

"What are they doing?" Ailin didn't understand.

It is said that the White Frost is chasing after them, and people are being swallowed up continuously.

But the barrier remained perfectly stable, showing no signs of being consumed or attacked, as if beyond the barrier lay a dark ocean, and the creatures were land-dwelling beings who depended on this blue bubble.

Moreover, both Avallac and the thirteen Ion El behind him gritted their teeth and tried their best to urge the skeletal horse on.

But their emotions were quite calm, as if they were used to everything.

"Um."

Avallac gave a soft hum and continued riding at the forefront, scepter aloft.

"Hold on... Being naked in the spiral will only anchor you to the White Frost. You know that Tyr Na Lia will not accept being marked by the White Frost ..."

"Click~ Click~"

The faint, unusual sounds were not drowned out by the thunderous hoofbeats.

Avallac paused for a moment.

Ailin looked in the direction of the sound and saw a Wild Hunt in the center of the group.

It was a very young man named Ian El, with a boyish face.

"Click~ Click~"

His entire body shimmered with a barely perceptible blue light, and the skin exposed outside his armor reflected a jewel-like luster.

I'm sorry.

He smiled with relief and swiftly handed the cone-shaped object, wrapped in smooth cloth, from the saddlebag to the nearest Wild Hunt.

The Wild Hunt silently accepted it.

At this moment, apart from Avallac maintaining the magical barrier, all the Wild Hunt looked at him, as if witnessing, or perhaps mourning.

"Glory to the Alder Folk!!!"

He roared loudly, with such force that his veins bulged.

Then he suddenly pulled on the reins, turned around, and galloped into the thick, muddy darkness.

Layers of shimmering light flakes detached from his exposed skin, dancing in the air, creating a breathtakingly beautiful scene.

"Tir Na Lia, your glory is etched!"

Wild Hunt placed his right hand on his chest, bowed his head and silently offered a greeting, then continued to follow Avallac as they sped through the darkness.

His emotions were so cold that he seemed inhuman.

"Bang!"

Ailin faintly heard the sound of glass shattering behind him, but the Wild Hunt around him seemed unconvinced, or perhaps they had already gotten used to it.

"How many people are left?" came the same question from beside me.

"Twelve, Lord Avallac, forty-two of our people have already disappeared..."

"If we still can't find the 'door'..."

Ailin paused for a moment, then said in a suppressed, calm tone:

"We will eventually be swallowed by the White Frost..."

Ailin remained silent.

A strange sense of horror and tragedy gripped him.

The same scene has been repeated forty-two times...

No wonder both "himself" and Avallac spoke with such indifference.

Next.

The same scene repeated itself five times, with only a few words of the same dialogue changed.

Some intervals are long, and some are short.

He had almost forgotten how long he had been in this space, which Avallac called a "spiral," yet which was completely different from the "spiral" he had ever seen.

The road ahead was always dark and unchanging, as if their goal was forever out of reach.

If it weren't for the increasingly bulging saddlebags of the remaining Wild Hunt, the dwindling sound of hooves behind them, and the fading Mental Fluctuation between "Ailin" and Avallac...

He might even think he's trapped in a never-ending loop.

"What exactly is this complete system of props?" In the midst of extreme boredom, Ailin couldn't help but let his mind wander.

Then at some point he suddenly came to his senses.

"How many people are left?" came the same question from beside me.

"Five, Lord Avallac, forty-nine of our people have already disappeared..."

"If we still can't find it..."

"Ailin" paused abruptly, then breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm sorry, Lord Avallac."

"White Frost caught up with me..."

Ailin:?

Who did you say you caught up with?

He was jolted awake from his listless and tedious state, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him in the freezing cold.

"Ailin" quickly unloaded the bulging saddlebags and tossed them to the remaining three Wild Hunt.

"Glory to the Alder Folk!!!"

Before Ailin could react, Ailin roared, twisted the reins, and sped off into the darkness behind him.

at the same time.

A agonizing pain, like being slowly sliced to death, struck.

Ailin discovered that his exposed skin had been frozen into Ice Crystals, which then floated away as dazzling blue specks of light.

This is definitely not normal freezing, because people who freeze to death would feel their whole body burning hot, rather than experiencing this kind of pain where every piece of skin on their body is being cut.

"Ah--"

Caught off guard, Ailin instinctively cried out in pain from the torture and immediately wanted to exit the cutscene.

But then he thought again, behind the magic barrier was White Frost, whom he longed for.

Besides, even the Wild Hunt could endure this pain, so why couldn't he, a Witcher who had experienced the torture of the Trial of Grasses, do the same?

"Tir Na Lia, your glory is etched!"

Behind him came the mournful whispers of the Wild Hunt.

"Da da da~"

The sound of horses' hooves echoed back.

Ailin clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh, using the pain to distract himself from the pain.

Two bright blue Cat Eyes narrowed into slits, staring intently at the barrier and the darkness behind it.

"Pfft~"

With a soft popping sound, the skeletal horse beneath Ailin leaped out of the magical barrier.

In an instant.

A blinding, deep blue obscured his eyes.

"Bite!"

A cold, detached notification sound suddenly rang in my ears.

However, Ailin ignored it and, amidst excruciating pain similar to that of the Trial of Grasses, struggled to open his eyes.

The glaring effect was quickly adapted to.

Ailin saw a long, black corridor that spiraled upwards, with a bottomless void in the middle.

Spiral!

This is a spiral!

However, unlike what Ailin had encountered before, this spiral had countless exquisite paintings hanging on the dark wall on one side... no... it should be said that there were countless windows, and it stretched all the way to the bottom of the spiral.

White Frost fluttered in through the windows, carrying a white light, as if trying to dispel the darkness in this spiral.

"Click~"

Suddenly, the skeletal horse beneath him fell over, losing its balance.

This caused Ailin's perspective to tremble violently.

I don't know why.

Suddenly, a thought struck Ailin. He looked into the distance and quickly focused his attention on one of the "windows" that was very far away.

Then...

That "window" emitting a blinding white light...

He blinked...

"Ding ding ding—"

The System Notification were ringing incessantly in my ears, like a maniacal tirade...

That is... what...?

His thoughts seemed frozen, his consciousness rapidly stagnating and becoming ice-cold, but at the same time, the pain in his body became even clearer.

"Snap!"

An even more intense tearing and shattering pain shot through his limbs and bones.

The arm rolled on the ground, the black iron boot came off the ankle, the thigh was smashed into three pieces, revealing pink, frosty flesh and stark white bone...

In a dizzying moment, his vision suddenly went black, then white.

He... fainted.