Once the Cat Potion they had drunk took effect, Lynn and Lambert entered the foul-smelling cave.
The cave was pitch-black, without a trace of light.
But the Cat Potion gave them both the ability to see in the dark.
Lynn followed Lambert through the pitch-black cave for several minutes.
Lambert, who was in the lead, suddenly raised a clenched fist and lowered his voice.
"Wait. Do you hear that?"
Lynn stopped immediately and listened closely.
But apart from his own and Lambert's faint breathing, there was nothing.
So he shook his head.
"No, I don't hear anything."
"Exactly. No snoring. That means Old Speartip isn't asleep. Damn it!"
Lambert cursed under his breath.
Then Lynn saw an expression on Lambert's face that he had never seen before.
"Kid, if I tell you to run, you run. Don't stop, and don't look back. Understand?"
Lynn was no fool.
He could tell what Lambert meant: if anything unexpected happened, Lambert would create an opening for him to escape.
The School of the Wolf never leaves a brother behind.
He repeated those words silently to himself.
But he did not say them aloud.
Because this was no time to argue with Lambert.
He simply nodded to show he understood.
The two continued onward for a little while.
When Lambert stopped again.
Without needing a reminder, Lynn had already spotted a cyclops with a wooden club on its back, standing beneath a stone ledge in a slightly larger clearing not far ahead.
There were no other paths out of the clearing.
Without a doubt, that stone ledge was the cave's exit.
Old Speartip was guarding the cave's exit.
This was the worst-case scenario.
Lynn considered it. "We need to find a way to lure it away."
Lambert said quickly, "I'll lure it away. Take the chance to climb up."
"What about you?"
"Kid, I've been around the block more times than you can count. Worry about yourself."
With that, Lambert gave Lynn no further chance to argue. He drew the silver sword from his back and charged at Old Speartip with a shout.
Cyclopes had relatively mature minds.
But even bandits would not spare a traveler who wandered into their camp, so there was even less reason to expect mercy from a cyclops.
Old Speartip's roar shook dust loose from the cave ceiling.
It grabbed its enormous wooden club and swung it.
The heavy club whooshed through the air in its grip, sweeping up dust and dirt from the ground.
Lambert kept dodging and retreating.
Then he seized an opening and cast the Axii Sign.
The Signs took effect.
Under the Axii Sign's control, Old Speartip stood rooted to the spot.
Meanwhile, with Lambert drawing the cyclops's attention, Lynn successfully sneaked up onto the stone ledge.
He looked back just in time to see Old Speartip dazed by the Axii Sign.
If Lambert ran over now, he could climb onto the ledge before Old Speartip came to its senses.
But what happened next took Lynn by surprise.
Lambert did not take the opportunity to run past Old Speartip.
Instead, he closed in swiftly and slashed at Old Speartip's foot.
The silver sword left a deep wound in the giant's foot.
Blood so red it was almost black quickly filled the wound and streamed out.
The intense pain brought Old Speartip back to its senses.
Its fan-sized hand swung instinctively.
Lambert was too close to dodge in time, but fortunately, at that critical instant, his body instinctively traced a Quen Sign, almost without thought, honed by all the dangers he had weathered.
Bang!
The bright orange light shattered like glass.
Lambert was swatted away like a sack.
"Damn it! Lambert! Damn it!"
Without thinking, Lynn jumped down from the stone ledge.
"Hey! Over here!"
"You moron, you brainless idiot! I'm talking to you! Can't you hear me?"
Lynn did not draw his sword.
Instead, he picked up stones from the ground and threw them at Old Speartip.
Little damage, maximum insult.
Old Speartip had intended to finish Lambert off first.
But Lynn's actions enraged it.
It decided to deal with this black-haired wolf pup first.
Seeing that his actions had successfully drawn Old Speartip away from Lambert.
Lynn backed away, silently calculating the distance between himself and Old Speartip.
"Now!"
Lynn drew his silver sword and whipped his right arm forward.
The silver sword he threw streaked like a meteor into Old Speartip's single eye.
Fluid splattered.
An utterly agonized scream instantly rang through the cave.
Old Speartip instinctively clamped both hands over its face.
Even so, foul-smelling, pale green fluid streamed between its fingers.
Then it grabbed its enormous wooden club and frantically swept through everything around it.
What would it look like if a giant many times larger than a husky started tearing the place apart?
Experiencing it firsthand, Lynn felt he was the most qualified to answer:
A storm.
As though a storm were sweeping through, dust filled the cave and loose stones flew everywhere.
The fragments swept up by the club were scarcely less powerful than crossbow bolts.
Fortunately, Lynn had calculated the distance beforehand. No matter how Old Speartip vented its rage, that enormous club would never reach him, much less Lambert, who had been sent flying.
All he needed to do was continuously feed magic into his Quen Shield to block the flying stone fragments.
The ferocious assault continued at such intensity for over ten minutes.
Only then did Old Speartip finally finish venting its rage.
Panting and exhausted, Old Speartip plopped straight down on the ground.
It never expected Lynn to dare approach at that moment.
Every witcher who had undergone the mutations possessed absolute control over his own body.
If Lynn wanted to, he could move without making the slightest sound.
And that was exactly what he did.
Only when Lynn stepped onto Old Speartip's back did it belatedly react.
It tried to grab Lynn.
But Lynn quickly ducked and avoided its grasp.
Then he leaped forward, making Old Speartip's second grab miss as well.
Old Speartip let out an enraged roar, intending to swat this damned human dead like a fly.
Just then, Lambert burst out of the lingering dust and once again slashed at Old Speartip's wounded foot.
Old Speartip's roar instantly turned into a wail, and its enormous body crashed to its knees like a collapsing mountain.
Naturally, Lynn would not let this perfect opportunity slip by.
He seized the moment to jump onto Old Speartip's back.
"Catch!"
Below him, Lambert tossed his silver sword to Lynn.
"Good night. Sweet dreams."
He said.
Then he drove the silver sword he had caught into the back of Old Speartip's neck.
It sank in to the hilt.
Old Speartip let out a wail, its life rapidly fading.
A current of warmth, just as scalding as when he had executed the water hag, surged into his body through the silver sword.
Attribute points: 0 (19%) → 0 (69%)