"…addan a'baeth blest gynvael..."
Beneath the cover of the rumbling roar, Ida Emean's chanting still boomed like thunder, echoing through the cavern.
The mysterious incantation silently drew in the magic and elements from the air.
Ida Emean chanted the spell while keeping her eyes fixed on the figure charging at the golem, ready to cut off her casting and intervene at any moment.
To be honest, she was already regretting her decision.
She never should have listened to Allen and activated the teleportation array.
She dared not imagine what would happen if Allen suffered an accident here.
If Vera, the Crimson Fox, lost both her lover and her son, she would go completely mad.
Ida could picture it: Vera would unleash her signature spell and turn every single Aen Seidhe in the Free Elves' camp into writhing leeches, killing them all in revenge.
Ida Emean knew Vera well.
Though in recent years she had seemed more gentle and kind, the Crimson Fox was still the Crimson Fox at her core. This was something she was more than capable of doing.
Even worse, if she didn't immediately seek revenge, she would instead fall into silence, weaving her network of contacts across the Northern Continent.
Like a venomous red-bellied spider, she would slowly tighten her web until every prey within was strangled to death.
As for dying for love—that was impossible. Vera was the type of lunatic who, even in death, would drag several others down with her.
That was why Allen hadn't been wrong. If the teleportation gate had worked, Ida Emean would never have allowed him to stay behind.
"Good, he dodged it. Don't panic, just keep circling it…"
"You only need to buy some time, just buy some time…"
Her eyes stayed locked on Allen's every movement. While the spell flowed from her lips, her mind muttered in nervous whispers.
In theory, spellcasting required absolute focus.
But every Sage was once a master who had rewritten the rules of spell theory—common limitations did not bind them.
Still, when it came to Master-level spells, even a Sage had to respect the chanting process. At most, they could use special techniques to accelerate the rhythm, pause if necessary, then seize the chance to continue.
For spells below the Master level, she could cast instantly. But against this strange golem, Ida Emean had no confidence.
Indeed—
Every Master-level spell was unfathomably complex. Any mage capable of completing such an incantation could stand toe-to-toe with senior councilors of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers.
Those who could use advanced techniques seamlessly were exceedingly rare, even among the High Council itself.
At the very least, Ronnie Dickinson—the one Allen had slain—certainly couldn't have managed it like Ida Emean. Otherwise, he wouldn't have underestimated Allen and gotten himself killed.
"Bzzzz—"
The elements in the air grew restless under the Sage's guidance.
Glowing motes of white light appeared out of nowhere, circling around the ivory staff like tiny faeries attending their queen.
At the tip of the staff, a crystal shone brilliantly.
Soon—
A thin white beam of light began condensing atop the ivory staff.
But at that very moment—
Ida Emean suddenly saw the golem's massive left claw swing without warning toward the witcher, who hadn't yet regained his footing on its arm.
Her chanting abruptly halted, the white light freezing mid-formation.
Her left hand instantly gripped the emerald talisman strapped to her palm.
But when she saw Allen ducking in advance, crouching low and leaping onto the golem's right hammer arm, she finally let out a breath of relief and eased her grip.
Just as she was about to resume her paused incantation, in the blink of an eye, the situation changed drastically again.
"How is that possible?!!"
Ida Emean cried out in her mind.
After dodging the strike, Allen spun midair, and with a single slash, severed the golem's left claw—so smooth and effortless it looked less like cutting stone and more like cleaving through the brittle limb of a frail drowner.
In mere moments, the terrifying creature that seemed impossible to defeat, something Allen was supposed to only delay, suddenly looked fragile and helpless.
Ida Emean was so shocked she nearly fumbled her spell.
Only her years of experience saved her; she dragged out a long syllable to steady the incantation and bring it back under control.
"What's happening?"
She was baffled: "Wasn't the plan for me to find a chance to pierce its core while he just distracted the golem?"
"Why does it now look like he alone can finish the fight?"
Her mind churned with questions.
But cautious as ever, Ida Emean kept chanting, confusion still gnawing at her. Meanwhile—
Allen had no idea that his sudden move had nearly caused the elven Sage nearby to fail her spell.
"Boom!"
The severed claw crashed to the ground, smashing a pit into the earth, dust billowing.
Allen's attention, however, was fixed entirely on the glowing runes at the edge of his vision:
[Monster Hunt] 1%
The progress of monster hunt never starts at 0%. The beginning is always at 1%.
Which meant that even though Allen had just cut off a crucial part of the colossal statue, he had in fact caused almost no damage to it at all.
This made him frown in confusion—until his mind flashed to the gargoyles in Tomas Moreau's laboratory.
"Just like gargoyles… only if I strike the core can I deal real damage?"
"But this feeling… it's almost like being blessed by magic. And this constant rising pressure… what the—"
Allen's eyes suddenly widened.
From the smooth surface where the golem's left arm had just been severed, a brilliant flash of blue-white light erupted like lightning.
Then—
The claws buried deep in the ground floated back up and reattached themselves. At a glance, it looked as though the severed limb had been nothing but an illusion.
"Whew~"
Standing firmly on the golem's right hammer, Allen exhaled heavily. "I hate constructs—"
Before he could finish, his right foot slammed against the surface, propelling him up the golem's right arm. He rolled twice across the smooth stone surface, then lunged forward.
The just-severed left claw swept past, narrowly grazing the armored boots of his war gear—before smashing down on the golem's own right wrist.
This time, Allen had paid close attention.
The colossus striking itself did indeed cause damage.
The gray stone surface cracked, shards scattering, fractures spreading.
But in the blink of an eye—
The shards slowed, halted, then flew back to their places as though pulled by some unseen force.
The fractures sealed up even faster.
So fast that if one weren't watching carefully, one might never notice they had existed at all.
"Damn it!"
There really wasn't any lasting damage at all.
But…
Was this right? He didn't remember the colossi of his past life having such terrifying regeneration.
Allen turned his head toward Ida Emean, the one who should know everything. Yet even she wore a look of shock.
And Allen understood.
It wasn't that his memory was wrong.
It wasn't a difference between two worlds.
It was this colossus itself—the construct with a Fate-guided core—
Something was very, very wrong with it.
"INTRUDER! DIE! DIE! DIE!"
The golem's roar shook the entire cavern.
Allen's expression didn't change. He sprinted up the massive right arm toward its head.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each strike landed dangerously close. Even with the Quen sign protecting him, Allen dared not take the hits directly. He relied on near-perfect sensory anticipation and agile dodges, slipping past blow after blow.
When there was truly no room to evade, he activated Blizzard to suspend time, then fueled himself with adrenaline.
From Ida Emean's perspective, Allen was like a monkey darting across the golem's arm—nimble, playful, seemingly toying with the furious behemoth.
At times he even used the left claw as a stepping stone, only to return to the sturdier right arm a moment later. But Ida Emean could see the truth: beneath that deceptive grace was constant peril.
For example, his fixation on the right arm—it wasn't personal preference.
That first dodge of the left claw had forced him onto the left shoulder, and the colossus, swinging its mountain-sized hammer, had smashed its own left arm to rubble.
Even from afar, Ida Emean saw Allen stunned by the shock of that blow.
The impact wave had blasted him into the air.
Only by regaining his senses at the last instant, and using an Aard sign to redirect the recoil, had he changed trajectory midair and landed back on the sturdier right arm. Otherwise, the golem's hammer would have crushed him into bloody paste.
Even so, all his painstaking progress had been reset, forcing him to start over at the wrist.
The sight chilled Ida Emean's spine. The emerald embedded in her palm cracked from how tightly she had clenched it, nearly activating its stored power.
But once Allen landed safely again on the right arm, her fear lessened. She steadied herself and continued chanting her spell.
After all—if even that mortal danger could not end the Child of Miracles, then her protection was better spent in strengthening her magic.
From the white glow of her staff, the shape of a long icy spear was already forming.
The air around it twisted, sharp enough to seem like it could cut through space itself.
The spell was almost complete.
Boom!
Another claw strike came, grazing barely a centimeter from Allen's nose before slamming into the ground.
The shards it shattered into didn't have time to return before flying outward.
Most were blocked by the Wolf School master's armor and his Quen shield, but a few fragments tore through after the golden barrier collapsed, slicing across his brow.
The cut was deep—so deep the bone beneath nearly showed.
Blood gushed out, blurring his vision red.
Sssst—
Allen didn't even frown. With a single swipe of his right hand across his brow, he pressed the scorching heat of the Igni Sign to the wound, cauterizing it shut.
"The golem is getting stronger."
He sucked in two rough breaths, then curled thumb and forefinger, tracing a triangle in the air before him. Quen shimmered to life as he leapt.
The razor-white claws slashed under his boots, so fast they sparked against the stone of the golem's arm.
"In just this short time, it's already adapting to my dodging patterns. It's learning to predict, even to feint. And worse…"
He touched the ragged wound on his brow.
"Now even the shards can pierce through my magical warding and wound me."
Yes.
It was impossible for Allen to avoid every fragment while slipping past the golem's claw strikes.
At first, Quen absorbed most of the impacts, scattering the shards in shockwaves. A few lucky ones slipped through, but they only grazed his skin without leaving a mark.
But now—
The golem no longer felt like some dumb, mechanical construct. Every pebble-sized fragment seemed to carry its own awareness, adjusting, adapting, striking with intent.
Its attacks were still limited in form, but in this narrow cavern, for something unkillable like this golem, a few patterns were more than enough.
And its power was still climbing.
"What in the hells is its core made of?"
Allen cursed under his breath for what felt like the hundredth time.
"Where in blazes did Tomas Moreau find this thing?"
"Has he gone insane, setting a monster like this just to guard his son?"
"If this thing keeps scaling like this, it could conquer the damn world!"
No wonder Jerome Moreau couldn't escape even after his second mutation.
Without a weapon? Forget Jerome—even Sol the Dragonslayer in his prime couldn't stand against this!
Boom!
The right arm bucked, the golem leaning hard into the cavern wall.
Shards sprayed everywhere.
But this move was easier to read—Allen saw it coming and, using the enchanted grip of the Hunt armor's boots, darted beneath its massive armpit.
Without those boots, the slick stone and the deliberate shaking of the golem would've made even standing impossible.
Even so, Allen no longer dreamed of felling this golem alone with Monster Hunt. Now, his task was clear: buy time for Ida Emean's spell.
The golem's fury was fixed entirely on him. The elven sorceress, gathering her vast power in the distance, seemed utterly ignored.
That was good.
And given how the monster, for all its cunning at the small scale, still bellowed nothing but "Intruder! Die! Die! Die!", it was almost to be expected.
Still, Allen's instincts screamed—this wasn't so simple.
Could such a nightmare really be ended by a single spell?
So, even as he ran, he searched for every chance to strike at its core.
At last—
After three more claw strikes and another crash into the stone wall, Allen clawed his way up the massive slope of its right shoulder.
The jagged peak of stone beneath him was the size of a hill. Just below, glaring up with blood-red eyes, the golem's monstrous head waited.
Monster Hunt!
Adrenaline surged. Allen leapt, sword first.
Balmur quivered in his grip, then bit into stone as if into curd.
The blade cleaved down, nearly splitting the stone skull in two.
[Monster Hunt 1%]
As expected, the effect was negligible. Allen sprang away, panting, narrowly dodging the claw that swiped for him.
With the golem's hammer descending like a mountain, he whispered: "Five minutes are up…"
The words had barely left him when a spear of white light shot into the golem's chest.
And then—
"Don't resist it!"
Ida Emean's voice shrieked with sudden terror.
A crushing pull of fate surged forth, the aura like divine pressure suddenly spiking faster, heavier.
The stone hammer loomed less than a meter away—
Hhhhuuuuh—
Allen exhaled.
And then, everything froze.
The hammer stopped mid-air.
The elf's voice cut off.
Dust and stone fragments hung motionless around him.
The whole world had stopped.
"So it wasn't going to be that simple after all."
Allen sighed, rejecting the invisible binds pulling at him. He leapt, slipping into the glowing tunnel Ida's spell had carved.
Tap, tap—
His boots struck solid ground.
In the lightless dark ahead, fate's summons crashed down like an avalanche.
...
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