Chapter 151

At dawn, on the muddy flats beside Black Gull Island, more than a dozen Vodyanoi corpses lay strewn in disarray.

Some had their heads blown apart by arrows, others were beheaded or gutted by sword blades, and still others had been roasted black by fire, burned beyond recognition.

Beside the bodies, two parallel lines of blood-soaked footprints stretched toward the island’s center. At the end of those tracks, a violent explosion suddenly erupted.

A blinding pillar of flame shot skyward. Three degenerate vodyanoi, their bodies wreathed in fire, burst shrieking from the fog, fleeing in blind panic like headless cockroaches.

Two figures met them head-on, leaping with fluid precision. Steel flashed, blades turned, and three man-sized heads rolled across the ground.

The Witchers stepped past the headless corpses.

“How many?”

“Twenty-seven in total, counting yesterday. According to the Lady of the Lake’s guidance, all of Dagon’s minions have been eliminated. That thing is now at its weakest.”

Facing the chill of the morning wind, Letho rubbed his bare scalp, his cold eyes fixed on the vast scorched scar ahead.

At the heart of Black Gull Island, the once labyrinthine, shadow-choked forest was gone without a trace. All that remained was a field of blackened earth and dense wooden stakes, and at the center of the ash stood the altar of the evil god Dagon, solitary and upright.

Neither of them had expected Jacques to accomplish this much.

“A pity about that Knight. Not even a body left behind.”

“I do not think he necessarily met a grim end.”

With the forest gone, the altar lay fully exposed to their sight. Its marble-white surface was spotless, like a flower blooming from the muck, holy in appearance yet reeking of corruption.

They did not head for the altar at once. Instead, they gathered the Vodyanoi corpses into a heap and burned them to ashes.

Afterward, Roy walked to the lake’s edge and submerged Aerondight fully into the frigid water.

The water enveloping the blade suddenly boiled violently, like a chemical reaction.

Steam billowed up, instantly blinding his eyes.

Centered on Aerondight, a vast fog spread rapidly outward, and from within it came a soft, velvety female voice.

“My Knight, why do you call for me here?”

“Honored Lady of the Lake, we have dealt with all of Dagon’s minions as you instructed.”

“Did I not tell you to seek me by the lakeshore?”

The young Witcher froze, as if glimpsing the reproachful gaze of a delicately featured maiden.