He fully understood Ida Emean's concerns.
Unlike the many portals they had passed earlier, which existed only in Tomas Moreau's mind and had been pried open by the elf's mental magic, this one was different.
Those portals had been dangerous, but still within control.
A strange, unfamiliar portal, however, could lead anywhere.
Tomas Moreau's treasure vault, the prison holding Jerome Moreau, another laboratory…
Those wouldn't be too bad. But what if it opened onto the depths underground, the middle of the ocean, the open sky—or worse, the molten heart of an active volcano…
The unknown was the most terrifying thing of all.
In theory, fate shouldn't guide him toward a dead end, but who could say for sure?
Last time in Passolon Forest, those two Wild Hunt warriors had been bad enough, and there had been an entire squad of pursuers from Ban Ard right behind them.
If not for Allen's "cheats" and Francesca's stealth item, Nightshade, anyone else would have died without leaving a trace.
That was why, despite this portal being tied to the secret of the Ard Gaeth Gate, he hadn't tried to activate it on his own—he'd called Ida Emean instead.
When venturing into the unknown, being with a well-read, magically powerful, and experienced sage was the safest option.
Even Vera couldn't compare in this regard.
Still, he wasn't confident Ida Emean would agree. If she refused, he could only wait for Ver—
"All right."
Ida Emean's cool, clear voice cut off the words Allen was forming in his mind.
Allen froze for a moment.
"Shall we leave now?" Ida Emean's right hand brushed the wall.
A current of magic stirred a soft breeze, fully revealing the pattern of a long-distance teleportation circle.
The slightly flawed lines of the ritual were swiftly filled in by several golden magical glows.
"Uh… o-of course."
Allen snapped out of it, letting his magic flow. His thumb and forefinger curled slightly as he traced a triangle in the air before him, casting a fresh Quen Sign.
Seeing the golden flash on him, Ida Emean murmured an incantation.
A green magical glow lit from the center of her belt and sank into her pale yellow dress.
After glancing at Allen and receiving his nod, she lightly touched the center of the teleportation circle with her right hand.
In that instant—
The wolf medallion on the witcher's chest began to hum violently.
The gray-white stone wall, etched with intricate carvings, flared with blinding blue light.
Then—
Clang~
A massive portal appeared, its edges flickering like ghostly blue flames, its core a bottomless black that defied all attempts to see through it. It spanned nearly the entire wall.
As soon as the portal appeared, Ida Emean gave Allen a glance and stepped inside without hesitation.
Allen calmed the burning pull of fate that had surged once more at the portal's presence, took a deep breath, and followed.
Clang~
The portal vanished.
Tomas Moreau's laboratory fell silent again, as if no one had ever been there.
-----------------------------------
The portal roared and swirled like a tornado before unceremoniously spitting him out.
This long-distance portal was wild and rough—completely unlike its "brother" portals. That short trip had been like stepping into a spinning washing machine.
Ever since the shards of the Ard Gaeth Gate had allowed him to learn spatial skills like Portals, Blink, and Space Manipulation, Allen had never felt such discomfort and pain from teleportation.
Pop~
A glowing orb lit the surroundings.
Ida Emean stood beside him, her face pale. Clearly, that short trip had treated witchers and sorceresses alike.
"Far too ancient… and incomplete," the elf sorceress said grimly. "This long-distance teleportation circle was probably something Tomas Moreau scavenged from the ruins of the Valley of Nine."
"In the days of the Elven Court, stable long-distance teleportation circles were a forbidden art, controlled only by the authorities."
"This crude version was likely developed by black-market traders in the Valley of Nine for smuggling."
Allen raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Elves weren't all the otherworldly, untouchable figures of legend.
In any intelligent race, there would always be criminals, murderers, robbers, and smugglers.
It was no surprise.
He took a couple of deep breaths, easing the discomfort from the rough teleportation, and finally had the presence of mind to take in his surroundings.
He was in a crude cave—its walls of dirt and stone, but its floor laid with rough bricks.
A strange arrangement—half like an unfinished underground tomb, half like a bandits' abandoned hideout.
It wasn't pretty, but it looked functional.
Before him stood a rock wall. Seeing no immediate danger, Allen rested on the ground for a bit before getting up and turning around.
The chamber had only one exit, swallowed by darkness beyond the reach of Ida Emean's light spell.
Stronger than anything he'd felt in Tomas Moreau's lab—a pounding in his chest, as if something wanted to leap out—pulled him toward that darkness.
Was it a shard of the Ard Gaeth Gate… or a Guidance Stone?
He exhaled and met the elf sorceress's gaze. The two of them moved cautiously toward the only passage.
Tap~ tap~ tap~
Their footsteps echoed in the empty cave, stretched out until they almost sounded like the wailing cries of a child deep in the tunnel.
Both witcher and sorceress unconsciously adjusted their steps, making them lighter. But as the sound of their footsteps faded, a heavy, oppressive feeling only grew stronger.
The cave was so quiet that they could hear each other's breathing and heartbeat, sending chills up their spines.
It was as if they weren't walking through an empty tunnel at all, but right past a sleeping dragon—one that could open its eyes at any moment, bare its fangs, and spew fire or acid to fill every inch of the passage.
The pull of fate grew stronger still.
Buzz!
The wolf medallion trembled with an ear-splitting hum until Allen soothed the restless unease in his mind, and it slowly quieted.
What's ahead?
He couldn't help but wonder.
This pull was several times stronger than what he'd felt in Passolon Forest—where he'd gained both a shard of the Ard Gaeth Gate and a Guidance Stone from two Wild Hunt warriors.
Allen's change in demeanor, along with the medallion's buzz, made even Ida Emean—who could not sense fate—realize something was off.
She said nothing, simply frowning at the rise and fall of his chest in thought.
In this oppressive atmosphere, they walked in silence for a long time.
In that long, beast-throat-like tunnel, time seemed to stretch endlessly, without any sense of passing.
"There's light ahead," Ida Emean whispered suddenly.
Allen narrowed his eyes in the direction of her voice. Indeed, a flickering red firelight glowed at the tunnel's end.
Someone's here?!!
Neither Allen nor Ida Emean made any move to call out. Instead, they became even more alert.
Compared to monsters, it was often other sapient beings who were the true predators of their kind.
They exchanged a glance.
Ida Emean flicked her hand, and the glowing orb above them vanished instantly.
Thanks to the Cat School's stealth techniques, Allen moved as silently as a stalking feline—enough to make even the sage from the Blue Mountains take notice.
The firelight at the end of the tunnel grew closer, the oppressive air thickened, but the silence remained—no sign of a living presence. And yet, there had to be someone. This was ordinary firelight, not the glow of a magic lamp.
Nothing in this world could burn forever on its own.
Either the owner had just left… or—
They had been spotted from the very start.
Ida Emean reached the exit first, glancing back at him.
Allen held his breath, his right hand sliding up to grip Balmure's hilt, while his left hand opened his reagent pouch to pull out and drink an Alghoul Decoction.
[Name: Alghoul Decoction Formula]
-----------------------------------
[Effect: Adrenaline is generated faster than usual, until the enemy hits you!]
A rush of heat shot straight to both sides of the witcher's lower back, as if his kidneys were being soaked in a slightly scalding hot spring.
After putting the empty bottle back, he uncorked another potion—Blizzard—and downed it in one gulp.
[Name: Blizzard]
…
[Effect: When in danger, time will slow down]
At this moment—
Not only were his pupils blue, but even the whites of his eyes had taken on a faintly translucent icy blue.
The blood vessels at the corners of his eyes bulged, throbbing as if they were about to burst.
And he wasn't finished yet. After returning the empty Blizzard vial, he reached into his reagent pouch and pulled out another potion.
A gray liquid, like smoke and haze, swirled inside the clear crystal bottle.
Under the startled gaze of Ida Emean, Allen hesitated for a few seconds, then swallowed it all in one breath.
[Name: Maribor Forest]
…
[Effect: Accelerates adrenaline regeneration.]
[Note: Here's some good news! Maribor Forest can be used together with Alghoul Decoction. Of course… in a way, that's also bad news. Having to replenish your kidneys at such a young age—how tragic!]
Ever since the crisis brought by the descent of the Evil God, Allen's attributes had skyrocketed—
Strength, Agility, and Constitution had risen from 80, 64, and 68 to 99 (+19), 92 (+28), and 98 (+30).
His resistance to potion toxicity had increased again, barely allowing him to take three potions at once.
When he went to Redania to rescue Danthe, Bond, and Fred, he could have done so too—but at that time he hadn't yet crafted a third potion that could pair well with the others.
After returning to Kaer Morhen and conducting several trials, he found that Maribor Forest was the best melee complement to the Alghoul Decoction and Blizzard, while still within his high tolerance for toxins.
Of course, three potions were the extreme limit before breaking the attribute cap. To truly reach the level of the most addicted witcher schools from his past life's game, he'd have to wait until his second mutation.
The cold potion slid down his throat—
Yet before reaching his stomach, it was completely absorbed.
A second of calm later—
His already warm, feverish kidneys suddenly felt as though pure oxygen had been fed into a slow fire, turning instantly as hot as molten lava.
Even though he tried to suppress it, adrenaline seeped out quietly.
The near-lethal level of toxins made his heart feel as heavy as if shackled by a thousand-pound iron lock, yet it beat powerfully like a war drum, pumping blood in a strangely contradictory rhythm.
"You… are you all right?"
Ida Emean's uncharacteristically worried voice sounded in his mind, her "volume" as soft as if afraid of bursting his brain.
Allen shook his head.
He knew he looked terrifying right now—three potions' worth of toxic backlash had drained his face of all color, bulging dark veins at the corners of his eyes twisting like snarled roots.
He looked more like a corpse than the newly dead.
Truth be told, any one of the Alghoul Decoction, Blizzard, or Maribor Forest potions would kill an ordinary human instantly with a single sip.
Most witchers couldn't survive a second potion, and to drink three and still fight normally—likely only he could do it in the entire witcher world.
With Ida Emean, a Master of the Arcane, here, and with his current strength, two potions should have been more than enough.
All three were extremely costly; if there were no enemies ahead, it would be a waste. But the atmosphere in the cavern was oppressively heavy, like a blessing of magic—yet not quite.
In terms of pressure, it felt much like the day the Evil God descended, tinged with an ominous edge.
That made Allen wary.
At the same time, the strongest pull of destiny he had ever felt only deepened this foreboding.
If he could reach his peak state now, why wouldn't he?
Holding back for money, or out of overconfidence, would be the height of foolishness.
Besides—
Ida Emean's presence wasn't something he could rely on completely.
"No, I've never felt better," Allen exhaled silently, replying in his mind, "Let's keep going…"
Without another word, he stepped past the elven sorceress, gripped Balmur in his right hand, and leaned forward to peer toward the light.
Ida Emean frowned deeply at his words, as if wanting to speak but holding back.
In the end, she followed silently, also looking toward the light.
It was a vast cavern, its floor paved with bricks, while the rock walls on both sides remained rough and unworked—primitive in appearance.
No man-made structures could be seen, like some temporary hideout for thieves.
But unlike the place where they had teleported in, torches lined both sides of the brick-paved path.
The flames burned fiercely, lighting the cavern as if it were daylight.
The faint scent of burning pine resin lingered in the air.
A massive stone hill stood in the middle of the road, blocking their view of what lay at the far end of the cavern.
More importantly—
There was no one. Not a trace of human presence, nor any sign of monsters. It was as though the place had been abandoned for a long time.
Yet how could that be?
The pull of destiny lay just beyond that stone hill.
The oppressive atmosphere, like a blessing of the elements, hadn't weakened—if anything, it was growing heavier, now pressing on them like a mountain on their shoulders.
Allen glanced back uncertainly.
Ida Emean's face was also clouded with doubt, though her gaze was fixed on the stone hill.
Stone hill… Allen looked again.
The three-man-high mound did seem odd—its shell was gray-white rather than the yellow-brown of the ground and walls, as if it had been brought in from outside.
Thinking for a moment, he linked his mind to the wolf medallion.
His Wolf Medallion Perspective Link unfolded—and Allen shuddered all over.
He saw that destiny's guidance, in elemental sight, wasn't pointing behind the stone hill at all, but directly to its center.
The moment he realized this, the pull of destiny abruptly vanished.
Then—
Rumble—
The whole cavern suddenly began to shake.
"Allen!"
Ida Emean's sharp cry rang in his mind, tinged with fear.
"That's no ordinary stone hill…"
"That's a golem!"
.....
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