The One Who Did It Could Only Be Me!

Ailin hooked two fingers into the smooth rock wall and looked down one last time.

Dust drifted chaotically through the air, forming a crystalline path of light amid the sunlight pouring through the cracks.

Below him, Vilgefortz had just stepped onto the metal staff wedged into the crevice. The Sorcerer who would one day break Witcher Master Geralt's legs with nothing but staff techniques was already beginning to show his promise.

Unknown whose charred arm and half a calf with exposed bone fragments floated atop the pitch-black well water.

"Phew~"

Ailin withdrew his gaze and took a deep breath, inhaling the scorched stench mixed with damp water vapor.

His left hand gripped a crack in the stone tightly, while his right forearm braced against the massive rock covering the well mouth as he slowly pushed upward.

"Crack~ Crack~"

The stone scraped against the well mouth, producing dull sounds.

As the daylight shining into the well grew brighter, the crackling of burning wood, shouts of battle, and screams also became clearer.

Ailin tensed his muscles and cautiously peered outside through the small opening he had shifted in the well mouth.

His heart thudded heavily and nervously, like thunder hidden deep within dark clouds on a summer rainy day.

A chimney blackened by flames stood amid the charred ruins. Tongues of fire slowly licked at slanted beams. A woman lay motionless in a pool of blood, her pale yellow gown blooming into a vivid and cruel flower amid the scarlet gore...

His gaze paused, then slowly lifted.

Just as the prophecy had shown, all of Ban Ard New City had become a massive ritual array, far surpassing the scale of the necromancy in the Withering Woods.

Several distant pillars of crimson light stood around the city, rising, converging in midair, bending, and