System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 249
West of Velen lay Ard Cerbin, homeland of the Ladies of the Wood.
Green waters ran on every side, reflecting a verdant mountain. It was not especially majestic, yet it overflowed with life, covered in dense vegetation.
At the foot of the mountain stood a small village whose people had lived there for generations, worshipping the Ladies of the Wood.
Every spring, the Three Hags held a sabbath feast on Bald Mountain, summoning all the cultists of Velen, accepting the Offerings they had gathered over the year, and distributing Magic Acorns.
Then a blind priestess would choose three among the cultists, sturdy boys or delicate girls, to spend a wondrous night with the Ladies.
The next day, those favored youths would return safely, overjoyed, having forgotten their names and most of their former memories, ready to begin a wholly new life.
Large swaths of information flashed through Roy’s mind.
During the Bald Mountain feast, security was tight. Sentries stood everywhere, and there were even Demons summoned by the old hags serving as guards. Under those conditions, it would have been nearly impossible for Witchers to infiltrate the place in secret.
But now more than half a year had passed since the feast. Most of the sentries had been withdrawn, and the Ladies of the Wood had left Bald Mountain for Downwarren. Their stronghold was now at its weakest, its emptiest, its most vulnerable.
The blood of the Heart of the Tree, smeared across their bodies, concealed every trace of the Witchers’ scent, deceiving the countless ears and eyes of Whispess hidden in the cracks of the mountain path and the wardens wandering the road.
The two climbed along the jagged, steep rocks beside the mountain trail, and without the least hindrance reached a point close to the summit.
Standing on a broad ledge, they looked up and saw a gigantic oak rising atop Bald Mountain. Its branches spread outward and draped down over the mountain walls like the tentacles of some colossal deep-sea squid, thick, twisting, covering the entire summit.
One tree alone should not make a forest, yet this oak had grown to the scale of a small wood by itself, and had moreover undergone some corruption. Its bark was black as sludge, viscous in appearance, covered in vines and thorns, exuding an air of rot and evil. Vigorous magic and chaotic energies clung to its broad canopy.
The Viper School medallions hummed at once.
The two men quieted the medallions at their throats.
In truth, centuries ago this place had been sacred ground to Druids, but after the old hags came, they laid waste to the Circle of Velen and twisted the Sacred Oak atop the mountain into something warped.
The two Witchers moved toward the entrance ahead, a huge wooden door six yards high, ancient and austere, the only path leading to the summit and the Sacred Oak.
They padded up to either side of it, placed their hands on the wood, and pushed lightly. To their surprise, the door was not barred and swung open with ease.
They exchanged a look, tightened their grip on their silver swords, set their Signs, then slipped inside in a crouch.
It was a bright day, and enough light filtered in to reveal the structure beyond the door. First came a long and shadowy passage, ferns of pale yellow growing along both walls. At the far end of the corridor, there came the sound of heavy breathing.
Hrrr, hrrr, hrrrrr.
Someone, or rather, some creature, was dozing in the cave ahead.
The Witchers grew more cautious still. They crept along the walls, controlling breath and heartbeat.
There was an unexpected gain along the way. Roy discovered that the ferns inside the cave were not ordinary plants like dandelion, sage, or celandine.
Aes Fern
Fern
Age: 2 years
Habitat: Velen Ard Cerbin, Tir ná Lia
Properties: Treats whooping cough; alchemical base.
“Tir ná Lia?” Roy turned the place name over in his mind and frowned. It belonged to no nation in this world, but rather to the capital of another world inhabited by the Aen Elle.
That there were plants from the Wild Hunt’s world within the old hags’ lair only further proved how closely the two were tied.
Roy thought of plucking a few Aes Ferns as samples, but when his hand was halfway out, he pulled it back. If disturbing Fergus and the old hags because of that small gain led to the failure of the whole operation, the loss would far outweigh the gain.
He forced the impulse down.
After rounding a bend, the two came into a broad cavern.
A dim yellow light glowed around them. Candles burned in the corners. Before the Witchers lay two possible paths. One rose along a slope to the left. The other lay behind a jut of rock, and it was occupied by something enormous.
It was lying on its back, snoring deeply, utterly unaware that two intruders had entered the cave, and that its undefended body lay exposed beneath their blades.
The Witchers did not rush. Instead, they held their breath and studied the bloated Monster.
It was fantastically fat, round as an overgrown Troll. From the Witchers’ angle, they could see its mound-like belly rising and falling with its snores.
Apart from a scrap of cloth between its legs, the Monster wore nothing. Its exposed skin was the scalded red of flesh burned by hot water, but black markings ringed its waist, arms, and brow. It had hooves like a goat or ram, ringed in thick, coarse black hair. Its hands were two swollen black fists, each with only three thick fingers like carrots.
Above that, on its head, curved and wicked horns rose, a hallmark of Demonkind.
Roy at once thought of a Chort. He twitched his nose and caught the faint smell of sulfur in the air, which only confirmed his guess.
Fergus
Age: 350
Gender: Male
Identity: Demon (a relatively dim-witted and weaker type among demons), Mountain Keeper (guards the path to the summit for the Three Hags)
HP: 320
Mana: 130
Attributes:
Strength: 20
Agility: 8
Constitution: 20
Perception: 6
Willpower: 7
Charisma: 4
Spirit: 13
Skills:
Sulfur Flame LV5: A mid-tier fire-element spell. Consumes a moderate amount of Mana to combine fire elements with the volatile sulfur within its body, spewing toxic flames that inflict burn, ignite, and poison effects simultaneously.
Lesser Demon Body (Passive Trait): Demons possess extremely vigorous vitality. HP +120; any minor injuries heal rapidly, and immunity to toxins is granted. Their digestion is exceptionally powerful, and their keratinized skin provides strong resistance to physical impacts.
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