Slaying the Leshen! Is Ailin a Dragon Incarnation?

The Leshen's weakness is the Igni Sign.

Most witchers know this.

The flames would scorch His rough, tough skin, like tree bark, causing Him to howl in agony like a wild beast.

But few people know that when the fiery sign disappears, the Leshen's skin immediately carbonizes, becoming heat-resistant and tough.

A cunning forest demigod, who is obsessed with tearing the flesh of his prey with his claws, will howl in pain to summon crows and wolves to attack him. He will also control vines that are impossible to defend against, which will pierce through the ground and punish those who invade his territory in his place.

This is a disaster that Dante personally experienced.

Even so, he had to admit that the Igni Sign was indeed the best choice to deal with the Leshen, but he needed to find the right opportunity and take advantage of the flames burning the Leshen and causing him to panic and lose his composure, and then deal with him immediately.

Otherwise, relying solely on swordsmanship, even though the Leshen's movements are much slower compared to other large creatures, it would be difficult to survive against him.

Ancient techniques make His seemingly slow movements incredibly precise, and His rich hunting experience allows Him to catch the prey's momentary lapses in judgment.

That's how it should be, at least that's what Dante thought after half a day of review.

But what did he see now?

Every attack from the Leshen was deflected by an ancient longsword, so easily that Dante felt as if he were watching a wildcat in the city toying with a fleeing mouse.

The roles of the two seem to have been reversed.

Ailin was the hunter with ancient and precise skills and rich hunting experience, and the Leshen was the prey he chose.

"How could this be?!" Dante gripped Vesemir's arm tightly, exclaiming, "Ailin... Ailin... he... he..."

"Very strong?" Vesemir's lips curled into a smug smile. "I already said, he has changed a lot."

Very strong? Significant changes?

Dante glanced at Vesemir. Compared to after the Trial of Grasses, he had undergone a complete transformation.

Ailin's strength has far surpassed his...

If Vesemir hadn't been here, he would be too weak to be worth any schemes, and he might even have suspected that the person in front of him Ailin, was a fraud.

"What exactly happened to Ailin in the past six months...?"

Before I could finish expressing my doubts, I was interrupted once again.

Dante saw that Ailin's footsteps had shifted to the side, causing the Leshen's claws to strike empty air, then he spun around and slashed out with his sword.

"Snap!"

The Leshen's arm, which looked like a broken, withered branch but was actually more resilient than steel, was cleanly and decisively cut off.

"Duh~"

The thin arm landed, rolled a few times, and bumped into a shrub of an unknown species.

"He didn't even have the Igni Sign, yet he just cut off His hand..." Dante was speechless.

Is this... is this something a Witcher who has only passed the Trial of the Mountains for half a year could do?

"Yo—"

The Leshen let out a terrifying scream, like the cry of a deer.

A terrifying and frantic howl tore through the night sky, causing the eerie oak forest to shake violently, its sound rising and falling, trembling uncontrollably.

Ailin then aimed his sword at the Leshen's neck, about to pierce it...

Suddenly his expression changed, and he pushed off the ground with his right foot, taking several steps back.

"Buzz!"

As soon as the School Emblem on Dante's chest arrived, dozens of thick tree roots emerged from the ground, like dark claws reaching out from hell.

Sidestep, retreat quickly, crouch and roll...

In Dante's eyes, Ailin was almost a blur, nimbly dodging the vines and roots that kept sprouting from the ground.

But the Leshen's tricks don't stop there.

The young witcher had just dealt with the crows and wolves.

Outside the battlefield, in the dense forest, the howls of wolves echoed again, but even closer than the wolves were crows.

Not long after the Leshen's screams, the hoarse, unpleasant cawing of crows could be heard in the nearby dense forest.

In an instant, countless tiny black dots ignored the Greater Griffin's imposing presence, darted out of the dense forest, and appeared under the moonlight.

pity.

These crows had no chance to affect Ailin at all.

Because Ernie, Klar, Aias, and others had already rushed over.

"Hiss~ Hiss~ Hiss~"

Amid a series of hissing snakes, the flock of crows had barely appeared when they were enveloped by hundreds of densely packed sparks.

"Damn beast, you'll have to get past me first!"

Kray roared, and the Igni Sign he unleashed from his right palm intensified.

Although the seven young Witchers' Igni Sign were all only LV1, they were more than capable of dealing with these crows, even though these crows must have been enhanced by the Leshen, their blood-red crow eyes gleaming with magical light.

"Caw! Caw! Caw!"

The crows screamed in agony as their black feathers were ignited by sparks, their flesh melted through them, and they fell to the ground.

A short while later.

Hundreds of crows died completely; not a single one escaped.

The swift and perfectly synchronized movements left Dante completely stunned.

Not only did they possess an even more coordinated and orderly discipline than elite soldiers...

... Of course, this was quite a shock to him, who had never seen so many witchers simultaneously and uniformly casting the Igni Sign...

But whether it's footwork, hand seal speed, power...

All of this demonstrates that these witchers, at least in terms of physical fitness, have caught up with ordinary witchers.

"If Ailin can be called a genius, why are Ernie and Klar also improving so quickly?"

"Did all the geniuses of the School of the Wolf emerge last year?"

"But they didn't show any signs of that before the Trial of the Mountains!!"

Dante felt surprised more tonight than he had in the past fifty years combined.

In a daze, it felt as if not half a year had passed, but half a century.

Meanwhile, on the side of Ailin and the Leshen.

Under the spell of activating plants, Ailin was not only not pushed away by the swarms of plants constantly emerging from the ground, but was instead getting closer and closer to the Leshen while dodging them.

Soft soil, slender shrubs, oak trunks, and even the vines and roots Leshen can all become his footholds.

The Leshen within the stag's bone sockets, reflected countless times how Ailin gracefully dodged the swarms of vines shooting out from impossible angles.

It's always just a little short, yet I can never quite capture it.

It was as if the master of this territory was not Him, but the two-legged beast wielding the evil iron weapon before Him.

Suddenly, in a certain instant.

Distracted by the sudden annihilation of the Leshen spirit slowed the vines from sprouting.

Ailin immediately seized the opportunity, and in full view of everyone, he crouched down and pushed off the ground, shooting straight at the Leshen arrow.

The Leshen leaned back in astonishment, waving his only remaining withered arm.

It's too late.

In the blink of an eye, the sword traced a chilling arc in mid-air before slicing straight into a cloud of black smoke.

The sword missed its mark.

The Leshen disappeared.

But He didn't leave nothing behind; half a moose antler was stuck diagonally on the ground.

"Buzz~"

Balmor hummed in dissatisfaction.

"Thump~ thump~ thump~"

With his feet crossed, he stomped out more than a dozen deep craters in the ground, dissipating the momentum.

Ailin gripped the sword hilt with both hands, trying to calm Balmor down.

A strong wind blew, flattening the weeds in the forest and making the oak branches rustle.

In the forest clearing created by Ailin and the Leshen, moonlight fell, illuminating the wildly sprawling, gnarled vines and roots, as if a hideous tumor had grown in this oak forest.

"Watch out!" Dante gripped his sword warily, breaking the eerie silence of the forest. "The Leshen is watching us; its target could be..."

Before he could finish speaking...

Dante suddenly noticed a large black patch on the ground.

"... anyone—"

He roared and spun around, swinging his sword. Vesemir, who was carrying Fred on his back, drew his silver sword even faster than him.

pity.

By the time the two Witcher Master of the School of the Wolf drew their longswords, it was too late.

Dante only heard something from beside him...

"Yir..."

A wild and powerful roar tore through the oppressive atmosphere of the forest, and heaven and earth resonated in an instant.

immediately.

"... ulr..."

Another furious, savage roar rang out, right beside his ear.

He hadn't even seen the Leshen yet when the sudden burst of pressure left his mind blank.

The body simply continued to rotate due to inertia.

Wait until I come to my senses.

Suddenly, a thin figure appeared in front of him and the Leshen, blocking their path.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

Within the half-boned deer bone of the Leshen, a scarlet, eerie light flickered fearfully; it seemed it hadn't expected Ailin to arrive so quickly.

Dante only felt Ailin's wrist twitch.

The next moment.

Countless sword lights flashed and wove a dazzling white-incandescent sword net onto the Leshen's body.

"Yo—"

The Leshen instinctively raised its head and opened its empty mouth, hissing in pain.

The stagnant river of time seemed to begin flowing again with that scream.

"Phew~"

A howling wind came from behind, causing Dante to stumble, but he was caught by Vesemir.

The Leshen creature's emaciated body, without anyone to support it, was shattered into countless pieces and scattered by the gale.

Then.

"Boom!"

The ground trembled, a tremendous roar resounded, and a cloud of dust suddenly rose from the entire oak forest in front of the two, obscuring the sky.

Feeling the Leshen vanish into thin air, Dante stared blankly at the slightly shorter figure before him, his lips trembling with surprise:

"The Leshen... the ancient Leshen... the demigod of the forest..."

"He... died?"

"It should be..." Vesemir, supporting him, nodded solemnly, "Leshen don't have physical forms; this is mentioned in the School of the Wolf's Witcher Code and Chronicles..."

"Having a physical body but no corpse is one of the reasons why the Leshen is called a demigod of the forest. When it dies, it naturally loses everything, including the pressure brought by the elemental favor."

"That's not what I'm asking..." Dante turned around speechlessly and found Vesemir looking at him with a smile. He immediately realized he'd been tricked. "Damn mutant, you're playing me!"

"Hahaha!" Vesemir laughed heartily.

It was at this very moment.

Suddenly, Ailin waved his right hand, casting an Ald Wave Seal.

The translucent shockwave dispersed the billowing smoke and dust.

"Gurgle..."

Upon seeing the oak forest shrouded in smoke and dust, Dante suddenly swallowed hard and blinked incredulously.

Oh my god...

What did he see?

The ground in front of Ailin had been plowed into three furrows, each at least a meter deep.

At the end of the chasm, a large grove of oak trees stood bare, like stumps left after being felled. Behind them was a small hill made up of broken wood, branches, and leaves, which must have been blown there by the strong winds after the oak trees were cut down.

Ailin, using only the aftershocks of shattering the Leshen, managed to carve out a path nearly a hundred meters long, three tree stumps wide, through the oak forest...

"This... this is still a power that a human... no... a Witcher can wield?" Dante was completely stunned.

Even the most skilled sorcerers couldn't cause this kind of destruction with their spells, could they?

Moreover, this is just the aftermath...

In a short time.

He couldn't tell whether the real monster on this land was the Leshen that had vanished without a trace, or Ailin...

"Vesemir ... he... he really is Ailin?" Dante whispered in Vesemir's ear, "Not some dragon in human form?"

"Of course not..." Vesemir shook his head. This is nothing compared to the explosion in the canyon of the Mahakam Mountains, which was far more outrageous.

no?

Dante felt dizzy from blood loss.

Is it 1180 now?

"Certainly."

"Oh... he's really not a dragon? I heard that when a blue dragon transforms into human form, its eyes are also blue..."

"No! Ailin isn't a dragon!" Vesemir glared at him, annoyed. "Besides... he could hear everything you said..."

Dante remained silent.

Logically speaking, given his usual personality, he should be joking with Ailin in front of him right now, using a title like "Drowner Killer" or something similar.

After all, they were acquaintances.

He even mentored Vesemir for a period of time.

But for some reason, looking at Ailin's thin figure, who was half a head shorter than him, Dante felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity and... imposing presence...

It even reminded him of the feeling he had when he returned to the camp and met Chieftain Soyer when his father had handed the bounty to the Witcher...

While Vesemir was secretly pleased by Dante's shock, he gradually sensed that something was amiss.

Before he could even process what was happening, the young witcher had already wiped out the flock of crows. He then heard the howling of the wolves gradually fade away, and they noisily sheathed their swords and walked over.

"My God... such a deep pit..."

Spencer walked over and, seeing the deep pit Ailin had plowed out, gaped in astonishment.

"Captain's move was so cool!" Aias clicked his tongue, drooling with envy, his face practically screaming, "Coach, I want to learn that!"

"Will we be able to learn this trick in the future?"

"It should be possible, right?" Ernie and Klar looked at Ailin, who had his back to them, with equal envy. "I heard the captain's roar, it's almost like Berserk..."

Amid the commotion of the young witchers, Vesemir finally realized something was amiss.

Why is Ailin still staring blankly at the spot where the Leshen monster disappeared, even after they've all been defeated?

He had none of Dante's unspoken reservations; carrying Fred on his back, he stepped forward and patted Ailin on the shoulder.

"What's wrong, Ailin?"