Wild Hunt and the Sword That Severed Fate
The longsword, gleaming with a dark light, exuded a chilling aura.
Icy mist drifted and ethereal from the sharp blade, the angular spine, the blade etched with magnificent runes, and the hilt decorated with thorns.
This is a fine sword, but it has no tip...
So where is the tip of the sword?
The answer was immediately given to him by a witcher's long experience with swordsmanship.
The sword tip is in my head!!!
The terrifying scene that greeted Ailin upon opening her eyes instantly jolted her awake from her drowsy state.
What happened?!
He didn't have time to think about why he could still think about such a question when a sword was stuck in his head.
In a flash, he instinctively reached his arm back, but he couldn't touch Elsa or Balmor, or any of their longswords.
No!
He didn't even have arms or hands.
Ailin was stunned for a few seconds.
At that moment, the longsword moved.
The longsword was pulled from his "brain," and after a beautiful sword flourish...
"Clang!"
The long sword was sheathed.
Through the icy mist dispersed by the sword wind, Ailin also managed to see the owner of the longsword.
Crimson armor, a skeletal horse beneath him emitting eerie blue breath, and most striking of all, his eyes...
Deeply embedded in the empty bone socket.
A crimson will-o'-the-wisp floated by, burning silently.
Other Skeleton Knight dressed similarly, riding horses on either side, all staring at the ghostly flames in their eye sockets, were bluish-gray.
[The Wild Hunt! They are the Wild Hunt!]
Not only that.
Ailin felt he had witnessed this scene not long ago.
The longsword was sheathed, which calmed him down.
His gaze shifted, looking around.
Dark staircases, enormous voids, vast, deserted spaces...
[A spiral, I am currently in a spiral...]
Ailin remembered the Special Skill he had obtained from the fragment of the Gate of Ad Gais.
[Name: Spiral]
[Type: Special Skill]
Completeness: 1/5
Passive effect: Dream Shadow: When you enter a dream, you will have a chance to communicate with the Spiral Spirit.
Active Effect: Insight: Consumes 50 Experience Orbs to create a vision within the spiral. Possessing the vision allows you to observe the spiral. (Visibility can be detected and destroyed.)
[But...] Ailin's gaze returned to the Wild Hunt whose eyes were flashing with blood-red bone fire.
He recognized the Wild Hunt.
That was the last person he saw during his first channeling of the Spiral, and the one who expelled him from the Spiral.
But it's been a week since we last returned from Ben Ade, hasn't it?
Why is the Wild Hunt still here?
Are they waiting for me in the Spiral Rift, ambushing me at my respawn point?
"Surely not? We have such a deep-seated hatred... uh... maybe, after all, both Wild Hunt died because of me, but Ain El shouldn't know that, right?"
[And why am I still not awake even though the sword is already piercing my head?]
[...]
A torrent of thoughts surged through my mind.
Ailin seems to have crashed; it's hard to understand what's going on.
certainly.
He hadn't forgotten that a whole bunch of Wild Hunt were eyeing him menacingly.
In the spiral, he has no physical form, no equipment, not even a mouth; he is merely a perspective, capable only of observation and nothing else.
Wrong!
There is still something he can do; he can teleport away and escape this place.
However, the Wild Hunt animals were behaving strangely, so he decided to stay put and observe them further.
The Wild Hunt, having sheathed his sword, had a flame burning in his eyes.
He should have been looking at Ailin, after all, the sword had just been pulled from his body, but Ailin always felt that the gaze directed at him was somewhat unfocused.
There seemed to be a thick fog around him. Wild Hunt knew he was in the fog, but couldn't find any specific direction.
"Centurion Regis?" A Wild Hunt nearby emitted a confused Mental Fluctuation.
The Wild Hunt, known as Regis, trembled as the will-o'-the-wisp flickered in its socket.
"The feeling of being watched hasn't disappeared," he replied, opening and closing his grotesque skull.
They really can't see me!
Ailin completely relaxed, but his gaze remained fixed on the Wild Hunt Wild Hunt as he observed them, trying to discern the differences between them.
for example...
Besides the will-o'-the-wisps in their eye sockets, are there any other distinguishing features among these Wild Hunt?
On the battlefield, every opportunity to capture the enemy is precious, and it is important to be able to identify them and find the most valuable prisoners.
Moreover, the Wild Hunt is closely related to the world-ending calamity "White Frost," and learning "Beast Roar: No-Fly" in the future might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in a single battle.
The centurion's eyes are red will-o'-the-wisps, while the lower-ranking ones are bluish-gray... The number of ribs on the skull-like Conquest Armor also varies... and the color of the ribs, some are gold, some are silver, some are single, and some are multiple...
Upon closer inspection, Ailin indeed discovered quite a few unusual features.
He silently noted it down in his heart, to save for later...
"Clang!"
A flash of cold light.
The longsword, radiating a chilling aura, slashed down on Ailin's "forehead" once more.
The runes on the sword shimmered with a fluorescent blue light, almost within reach.
Then.
It was withdrawn in an instant.
Ailin was instantly terrified, as if he had fallen into an ice cave.
It wasn't because he was hurt, but because he...
[The movements are unclear... completely unclear...]
Ailin stared wide-eyed at the sword that had been sheathed again.
Regis gripped his sword, drew it, thrust it forward, and sheathed it faster than the blink of an eye.
It even gave him the illusion that the dagger was in front, and the clanging sound of the sword being drawn came behind.
Right now... I can't beat him...
Ailin immediately drew a conclusion.
At the same time, a chill ran through my body.
If it were seven or eight days ago, one of the two Wild Hunt members who appeared in Ban Ad would be this Regis.
He... no... not just him, but everyone including him and the Source Vilgefortz will definitely die a terrible death.
And a centurion is already this strong.
What about Eredin Brick Glass, the King of the Wild Hunt?
What about the elven sage Avallac and Oberon Mushtazi, the King of Red Trees of Tirnalia?
How many Wild Hunt, like this centurion, are there in Aion El?
Shudder!
It's truly chilling!
"His sight disappeared..."
Mental Fluctuation from Regis resounded from the void, like the clang of metal on metal.
Ailin then realized that he had instinctively looked away without realizing it.
He didn't look back, but instead stared at the skeleton horse's emaciated body, observing it out of the corner of his eye.
"My Lord's Ivaldis is the sword in mythology that cuts through fate, and it can naturally cut off the prying eyes of petty people as well."
"Perhaps someone accidentally divined our existence," said Wild Hunt beside Regis. "Doesn't Lord Eredin often feel being spied on?"
"But no matter what kind of creature it is, it must be suffering heavy casualties right now!" another Wild Hunt flattered.
[Too bad there isn't!] Ailin glanced discreetly a few times out of the corner of his eye at the legendary sword said to be able to sever fate, and thought to himself, [Not only were there no heavy casualties, but I was completely unharmed...]
He had no doubt that the longsword in Regis's hand was overrated; a centurion shouldn't be carrying such an expensive sword.
Just think about how many worlds Ailin Al has conquered.
Perhaps they were gods, whom they had all slain. It's not surprising that a centurion would wield a weapon imbued with mythological significance.
[but...]
Ailin instinctively reached out his right hand to rub his chin, only to realize that he not only had no body at this moment, but actually didn't even have a hand.
[Peeping... Is Eredin... the Grandmaster of the School of the Viper Witcher, Iva the Evil Eye?]
Ailin pricked up his ears.
"That's different."
The blood-red ghostly flames within Regis's sockets glanced a few more times in Ailin's direction before sheathing the magnificent longsword, a work of art, back at his waist.
"Lord Eredin sensed that the spying was in the realms, but the Spiral..." He shook his head. "No creature other than Him has ever been able to cast its gaze upon the Spiral."
"But if it's Him..."
Regis didn't finish his sentence, but the will-o'-the-wisps within the Wild Hunt's bone sockets trembled on their own, even without wind.
[They are afraid!] Ailin thought, [Without even uttering a name, merely using the word "He" has silenced the Wild Hunt that has conquered all realms. Who is "He"? Which god is He? Or perhaps...]
[White Frost!]
Unfortunately, he didn't get the answer he wanted.
When Regis mentioned "He," the Wild Hunt members tacitly changed the subject, as if even thinking about that being would bring misfortune.
But the Wild Hunt did not doubt Regis ' intuition. It seemed that as long as he sensed it, even if they could not see or feel Ailin's presence, there must be something in Regis' line of sight that was looking at them.
"The important matter comes first, Lord Regis," another Wild Hunt holding a wand spoke up. "The worlds are full of wonders, and there will always be a few beings with special abilities. Let's finish our business first, and then report back to Lord Eredin and Lord Avallac when we return to Tyr Na'Lia."
"They will seize this gifted individual and use him for our own purposes."
Although he addressed him as Lord Regis, his tone was anything but polite.
To be bossy and domineering.
When he spoke, the rest of the Wild Hunt stopped their somewhat noisy discussion.
Clearly, his status was not much lower than Regis'.
[who is he?]
Ailin noticed that the lower bodies of the other Wild Hunt were covered in skirts woven from metal plates, even those who also carried wands instead of Wild Hunt.
The speaking Wild Hunt then peeked out a grey robe from within his breastplate. The robe was embroidered with countless silver stars, some of which were connected by lines, resembling a constellation.
It's a pity.
Ailin's knowledge of astrology was limited to the morning star and the lunar phases and sundials that were essential for ritual studies; he couldn't identify which constellation this was.
but...
[Constellations... Magic Wand... Wizard...]
[Navigator?]
The word came to his mind.
After losing the Gate of Ade Gais and gradually losing the ability to travel through time and space in his bloodline, Aion El has been trying his best to regain his abilities.
The elven sage Avallac spent centuries searching for elves with the ability to manipulate space and time, pairing them up, and finally carefully nurturing them into navigators.
While they cannot teleport on a large scale as freely as the Gate of Ad-Gais and the Elder Blood, they are skilled in spatial magic and can still travel between worlds that Ain-El has already conquered.
You could say that the Navigator is an extremely weakened version of the Elder Blood.
[If he's a navigator, then his high status is understandable.] Ailin thought. [After all, navigators sound difficult to train, and they're responsible for guiding the team through space; they practically hold the lives of the entire Wild Hunt in their hands.]
He took a closer look at the Wild Hunt and memorized all the distinctive features of his attire.
But what is the important matter?
The Wild Hunt did not answer him.
Regis glanced in his direction again, nodded slightly, and then, without saying a word, tugged at the reins.
"Hercules—"
The skeletal horse reared up and let out a hoarse neigh, its throat leaking air.
"Da da da~"
Nearly a hundred Wild Hunt riders once again galloped across the empty, dark spiral.
[What exactly is the important matter?] Ailin was itching to find out.
After hesitating for a moment, he stopped observing the Wild Hunt with his eyes and instead used his mind to follow the Wild Hunt skeleton horses.
One minute, two minutes...
The Wild Hunt is on the move.
One hour, two hours...
The Wild Hunt is still on its way.
Time seems to have lost its meaning in a spiral, as does space.
Ailin had flashed around the giant spiral staircase countless times, at least once, but the surrounding scene was still exactly the same as it had been an hour or two hours ago.
The only good news is that the Special Skill called "Spiral" has never ended.
certainly.
The bad news is that this Special Skill, called "Spiral," has never ended.
He didn't know where the Wild Hunt was headed, or how many circles it would take to reach its destination.
So he had to keep following them.
He even wished that someone from the temple outside would come and wake him up, forcing him to withdraw from this tedious struggle with his own patience.
An hour in the Spiral was even more tedious than a year's worth of lessons in "The Sorcerer's Memory".
therefore...
He had to think about things to alleviate the extreme monotony he felt from the monotonous environment and behavior.
for example...
time.
Time within the spiral is clearly not in sync with time outside; otherwise, Regis's sword from seven days ago wouldn't have pierced his present self seven days later.
This thought only intensified Ailin's anxiety, leading him to consider the spiral itself.
He avoided the Wild Hunt and looked around.
The spiral and the regular steps clearly do not resemble a natural creation.
Therefore, he naturally considered the problem that he had intentionally or unintentionally overlooked—
What is a spiral?
Who... created it?
However, before Ailin could think about it further...
"Arrive..."
Suddenly, the voice of the "navigator" came from ahead, interrupting him.
Ailin suddenly looked up.
I don't know when.
A huge window opened onto the dark, spiraling wall of unknown material ahead.
Light streamed into the spiral through the "window," but it couldn't illuminate the dark space at all.
"Go quickly!" Regis shouted, sending a strong Mental Fluctuation through him.
That "window" was trembling unsteadily.
At that moment, Ailin also came to the window.
His gaze passed through the trembling window frame and looked outside.
He saw the blazing sun, the azure sky, and...
A desolate ruin.
Where... is this?