Arwen turned around, drew a breath, and thrust both hands forward.
An Aard shockwave burst forth.
Behind him, Old Spearhead raised his right arm and swept it through the air. The powerful gale tore the Aard shockwave apart, bending shrubs and sending dirt flying.
"Roar!"
With its aggro drawn once more, Arwen turned and sprinted along the lakeshore toward the bank of fog.
The nearby bank of fog seemed to have been provoked as well and picked up speed.
Within a few breaths, mist rushed into his face, its icy chill swirling around his nose.
"Hah!"
A gaunt Foglet lunged out of the mist, its black claws ripping through the air.
Arwen had been ready for it. As he formed the Quen Sign, he immediately rolled toward Killer Lake.
Splash!
He plunged into the water. As spray flew up, he vanished without a sound or a trace, like a fish returning to the sea.
The Foglets did not linger anywhere near Arwen. They screeched and charged at the Cyclops before them, several times their height.
Dim yellow points of light flickered as the Foglets charged.
Old Spearhead sensed their terrifying killing intent, but the darkness and Arwen's provocation had already left him surrounded by Foglets. It was far too late to retreat.
The battle erupted in an instant.
Arwen swam a circuit underwater and found no Drowners. He barely even encountered any fish or shrimp, as though they had sensed the presence of the two overlords onshore and instinctively fled far away.
Only after confirming it was safe did Arwen surface about twenty meters from shore. His wet black hair clung to his forehead, and his gray slit pupils fixed on Old Spearhead.
Dim yellow lights constantly circled the latter.
In just that brief span, numerous small wounds had already appeared across Old Spearhead's burly body.
Old Spearhead raised both hands high, his muscles bunching, and slammed them down.
Boom!
A mighty gale blasted a clear ring through the surrounding fog. The utterly terrifying force smashed a Foglet straight into pulp, spraying chunks of flesh and dirt in every direction.
"Roar!"
Old Spearhead straightened, beat his chest with both hands, and let out an unrestrained roar.
At the sight, terror filled the eyes of the Foglets surrounding him, and they backed away.
Arwen frowned slightly.
If this continued, it would not achieve the effect he wanted of using a tiger to devour the wolves.
Just then, he noticed a light rapidly approaching Old Spearhead through the fog.
This light was far brighter than those around it, like Sirius among the stars.
The other Foglets quickly cleared a path when they encountered it.
Its figure gradually emerged, its gaunt, hunched body wrapped in wisps of mist.
It had a bald head and pointed ears, with rotten fluid dripping from the decayed, sinister teeth in its mouth.
Each rib was clearly visible in its sunken chest, where a deathly white glow churned.
Its withered claws gleamed coldly, hanging beside its knees.
Its lifeless eyes watched Old Spearhead coldly. Its teeth chattered incessantly, and its low hissing carried a mind-bewitching magic.
"This is..." Arwen murmured, frantically searching his memory until he found the relevant entry in The Book of Monsters.
"An Ancient Foglet!"
While he was still reeling in surprise, Old Spearhead attacked first. The wind from his fist tore through the fog, punching a clear ring through it in a stunning display.
The Ancient Foglet reacted swiftly and moved nimbly, dodging with a single roll.
A roll!?
Arwen was even more astonished.
But it was far from over.
The eerie light in the Ancient Foglet's chest blazed, and mist wound around its entire body, forming strange ripples.
Its body visibly grew taller, its hunched back straightening.
A black leather jacket studded with silver, a silver sword on its back, gray-white hair falling behind its head. It raised its head slightly, revealing amber cat eyes filled with violence and ferocity.
"Vesemir! It's Vesemir!"
At the sight of that familiar face, Arwen fell into a momentary daze before crying out!
The Ancient Foglet had actually taken on Vesemir's appearance.
"Hah!"
Vesemir drew his silver sword in a beautiful opening stance of School of the Wolf Swordsmanship. Silver sword light split the night with a clear hiss, and a streak of blood flew from Old Spearhead's body.
Arwen swallowed. "It even conjured the silver sword. This is too... too unbelievable..."
"And that swordsmanship... so clean and beautiful..."
Seeing Vesemir's swordsmanship firsthand, even as a mere fragment of an illusion, shook Arwen deeply. He could not bear to miss a single detail.
[School of the Wolf Witcher Swordsmanship experience +1!]
"Roar!"
Old Spearhead bellowed in pain and charged into the fog, rampaging about and knocking over numerous Foglets.
He reached out a thick arm, seized the legs of a fallen Foglet, and tightened his grip.
Crack!
Bones snapped as the Foglet was twisted into a spiral, screaming incessantly.
His other hand did the same.
He hefted them a couple of times. They were not as handy as his original weapon, but they would do.
Watching all this, "Vesemir" unleashed terrifying killing intent from his cat eyes.
He lunged forward, gray hair flying, his body swift as lightning and his whirling sword light razor-sharp.
Old Spearhead tightened his grip on the Foglets, foul blood gushing between his fingers. He spun, swinging the Foglets in his hands with a shrill rush of air.
Every sweep smashed through the Foglets, sending flesh and blood flying. Sand, chunks of flesh, and shreds of mist mingled in the air.
Even "Vesemir" was kept at bay.
With a series of splashes and thuds, Foglets fell like raindrops, their shrill screams echoing without end.
A gray-white figure plunged into the lake not far in front of Arwen, throwing up a meter-high splash.
"Uuugh..."
White bubbles churned, and then a bald head broke the surface.
Choking on water, the Foglet paddled its limbs frantically toward shore, terror in its eyes.
Arwen froze for a second, then immediately reacted and dove underwater.
Keeping close to the swaying aquatic plants, he swam directly beneath the Foglet in the space of a single breath.
His cold cat eyes watched its paddling body as he reached out and precisely seized its ankle.
"Ugh!"
The Foglet abruptly sank beneath the surface. Its limbs flailed, and the dim yellow light in its chest flickered violently.
But underwater, the illusions and mist it took such pride in were utterly useless.
Arwen wrapped his arms around the Foglet's slender waist like a Drowner. His right hand gripped his sword hilt, and he stabbed hard into the underside of its jaw.
Squelch!
The silver sword pierced its brain, and murky blood bloomed like a flower, fouling the lake water.
[Killed a Foglet. Foglet Mutagen acquisition: 25%]
The system notification sounded. Arwen pulled out his silver sword and released the Foglet, its limbs hanging limply as it slowly sank to the bottom.
Arwen quickly swam to the surface, just about to continue observing the battle.
Another gray-white figure fell not far from him.
The Foglet struggled to the surface, slapping the water with both hands. It was a far worse swimmer than the last one.
Arwen swallowed and glanced at Old Spearhead out of the corner of his eye, pleasantly surprised.
I get to pick off easy prey like this, too?