The moment the massive, egg-shaped object appeared in the sky, it sank downward.
"Boom!"
The tremendous impact reverberated through the air as though the entire world resonated with it.
The spinning vortex in the heavens faltered, and the thick clouds were torn apart by an invisible shockwave.
The enormous shadow above remained blurred, as though shrouded by a veil of mist. Yet how could there be such a veil stretching across thousands of meters in the sky? That was no fog — it was the wall between worlds, or perhaps the iron seal that imprisoned a great demon.
Whether it was a wall or a seal, one thing was clear: The great demon summoned by the Wild Hunt was about to break free of its chains.
And there was no doubt — the Wild Hunt had not summoned it merely to "take a look" at this world.
Boom!
Boom!
Two more collisions followed in quick succession, snapping the stunned crowd from their trance.
The newly built city of Ban Ard erupted into chaos. From the upper districts to the artisan quarters and the devastated lower city, people poured out from behind barriers, from workshops, and even from ruins — screaming, sobbing, and running for their lives.
The air filled with panicked cries and the pounding of feet as thousands fled the city.
Vilgefortz and Lydia van Bredevoort were both dumbstruck by the sight.
In just the blink of an eye, the situation had reversed — from a hopeless encirclement to both of their greatest enemies, Ortolan and the Wild Hunt, falling from the sky like wounded birds.
That turn of events had happened in only a few heartbeats.
The Child of Miracles… Was this truly the one spoken of in legend, whose name echoed through centuries?
He hadn't lied to them. He really intended to survive — and against Ortolan, Sunny, and the Wild Hunt all together, he was surviving.
Excitement and fear mingled within Vilgefortz, his entire body trembling.
"Vilgefortz… that… what is that?" Lydia's voice shook as she pointed to the immense black shadow in the heavens.
Vilgefortz shook his head, but his eyes gleamed with fervor.
He stared at that form — a manifestation of the most primordial power — his gaze burning with awe and madness.
"We're leaving!" Vilgefortz said firmly, though his eyes lingered on the dark shape and the witcher disguised as the Wild Hunt. Then, scanning the chaos below, he added, "Allen has done what he promised — he's made enough of a distraction."
"The sorcerers and guards have left their posts, the citizens are scattering like frightened rats… our chance is here. Let's move — now, toward the southern wall!"
Without hesitation, Vilgefortz leapt from the high tower.
Lydia followed close behind, using illusion magic to shroud them both as they slipped into the terrified crowd. Yet even as they fled, she kept glancing back toward the gallery.
The gallery was now hidden by debris, buildings, and people — nothing could be seen from here.
But Lydia was curious.
The Child of Miracles… A being of death and rebirth, of blood and flame — how far did he intend to go?
After causing such chaos… was his plan really only to cover their escape?
Would he… do nothing else?
-----------------------------------
Ortolan hung upside down as he fell alongside the Wild Hunt. His long white hair whipped wildly in the wind, his robes snapping violently.
He ignored the panic rising from Ban Ard below, instead focusing on the strange magical rhythm coursing faintly around him. His beard bristled as he roared toward Sunny, who was not far from the Wild Hunt.
"Sunny! Kill him—now!"
Whatever the monstrous entity hidden in the otherworldly sky was… whatever strange force that broke the basic laws of magic and robbed him, a master sorcerer, of control—none of it mattered now.
Ortolan's instincts, sharpened by centuries of battle, told him one thing: The only way to end a continuous spell's effect… was to kill the caster.
His voice, infused with magic, drowned out the screams and wailing of Ban Ard's fleeing citizens.
Sunny heard Ortolan's command. He looked toward the "Wild Hunt," who stood motionless before the gallery, coldly meeting his gaze.
Within the hollow white skull, blue-gray ghostfire burned — empty of all humanity. The longer Sunny stared into those eyes, the colder his body became, as though facing a predator ready to pounce.
It wasn't the first time he'd felt this from the Wild Hunt, but this time — perhaps because of the sky's ominous changes or the strange spell that had brought even Ortolan and the Hunt crashing down — that eerie pressure was far greater.
The dread rolling off the "Wild Hunt" far surpassed even the terror of the falling army above.
"Sunny…"
Miguel jabbed Sunny lightly in the side with his elbow, breaking his trance. "What do we do?"
Sunny hesitated, glancing at Miguel, then at the close circle of trusted men around him.
In an instant, countless thoughts flashed through his mind.
If the "Wild Hunt" was merely the figure that carried Hen Gedymdeith in the catacombs, he would, without hesitation, lead his men straight at it and tear apart the monster that might destroy his future.
But now…
The "Wild Hunt" was something capable of striking down Ortolan — the strongest mage on the Northern Continent.
If he were to charge forward like this, what would happen?
He was supposed to be the future first King of the Sorcerer Kingdom. Even if Hen Gedymdeith were rescued, there would still be hope — many uncertain possibilities remained. But if he died here, there would be nothing left.
Even Sunny couldn't bring himself to let Miguel and the other mages beside him charge in.
Because Miguel had been right in the catacombs — after all the repeated blows, there really weren't many left among the radicals, the very foundation of Sunny's power.
He was already looked down upon by Ortolan and the sorcerers of the Rissberg Civil Cooperative for his lack of strength and illegitimate succession.
Without loyal subordinates or a solid power base, even if he became the first king of the Sorcerer Kingdom, it would be meaningless.
He would be sidelined, stripped of authority, and lose control of the kingdom — until one day he "fell from his horse while hunting" or died from a cup of poisoned wine.
Ortolan pushing him to go forward was nothing less than sending him to his death!
"Sunny! What are you waiting for? Kill him, now!"
Ortolan's agitated shout, amplified by an intense magical surge, shook the entire New City of Ban Ard. The sound made Sunny's eardrums ache as though they would burst.
The "Wild Hunt" continued to look at him coldly, motionless.
Sunny hesitated, cautiously inching forward a few steps.
And then—
Thud thud thud~
Hurried footsteps echoed from all directions. The mages and guards of Ban Ard Academy and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative, having received orders from Ortolan and Sunny, rushed to the scene.
Sunny's face lit up with joy, and he shouted at the approaching Rissberg mages:
"Quick! Kill that Wild—"
Before the words left his mouth—
Crack!
A glass-shattering sound echoed suddenly from the sky.
Sunny's neck stiffened. Like a rusted machine, he jerkily lifted his head.
The sky — already heavy and dim beneath the vast shadow — began to fracture, cracks spreading outward from the eye of a swirling vortex, crawling across the heavens.
For an instant, it was as though time itself stopped.
Before he could even react—
Boom!
A colossal shadow struck once more.
This time, the "Wall of the World" could no longer withstand the overwhelming force — it shattered with a deafening crash.
Almost at the very moment it broke—
Far to the east of Aedirn, deep within Dol Blathanna's Valley of a Hundred Flowers, Ida Emean and Simlas Finn aep Dabairr — who had just finished settling the hill folk — frowned and looked north.
At Kaer Morhen, where Tissaia de Vries and Vera were discussing Allen's Wolf School master armor enchantment scheme, both simultaneously raised their heads toward the sky.
In the sanctum of the temple of Melitele in Ellander, kneeling Ianna suddenly opened her glowing golden eyes.
And in Aretuza, Drakenborg, Toussaint, the Circle of Mayena, the Dragon Mountains, Skellige, Zerrikania...
At that moment, every extraordinary being standing atop the world did the same thing—
They lifted their heads.
And looked to the sky.
Back in Ban Ard—
Whoosh!
A fierce wind rose, black clouds billowing once again.
Rumble!
A blood-red thunderbolt exploded, merging with the cracks to rend the gloomy heavens apart.
That vast black shadow, shrouded in dense smoke, paused for a heartbeat—then came crashing down upon the world.
"Sunny!!!"
Ortolan's frantic, anguished roar pierced the air. Realizing Sunny's hesitation, he didn't stop his own rapid descent — instead, he began to chant a spell with reckless abandon, turning midair to face the sky.
A violent burst of power exploded from the gleaming white staff.
Driven by the spell's backlash, Ortolan accelerated even faster, surpassing the Wild Hunt riding its skeletal steed, plunging straight toward the hard ground below.
And the Wild Hunt, led by Renakins, did not remain motionless, letting the skeletal horses fall freely.
When they had fallen to a certain height, a robed Wild Hunt beside Renakins raised his staff, the pale-blue ghostly fire flickering in his eye sockets.
Frost rapidly spread beneath the hooves of the skeletal horses.
In the blink of an eye, they were treading upon a frozen path made of solid ice.
Though it could not stop their descent, it allowed them to steer slightly, guiding the skeletal steeds directly toward their "kin" before the gallery.
"Quick! Kill that Wild Hunt!"
Seeing the massive figure plummeting from the sky, Sunny's eyes bulged in rage as he pointed toward the gallery, shouting at the Ban Ard and Rissberg Civil Cooperative mages who had gathered around.
The mages, having just rushed here from various parts of Ban Ard, were still dazed and unsure of the situation. They could only follow the command by instinct.
The guards charged toward the "Wild Hunt," while the mages began chanting their spells on the spot.
"It's too late…"
Standing at the entrance of Lydia's Gallery, Allen could feel the mental link in his mind awakening and growing stronger.
If Sunny had attacked immediately upon hearing Ortolan's earlier command, he might have struck while Allen was drained from using "Beast Roar: Dragon Call" and "Beast Roar: Forbidden Sky," perhaps even wounding him severely—ending it there.
But unfortunately, Sunny had hesitated—and, even worse, had met his gaze.
[Name: Armor of the Wild Hunt's Conquest]
---------
[Functions:
1. Helmet - Spectral Skull: Masks the wearer's face with a spectral illusion, instilling fear in non-extraordinary beings and occasionally affecting extraordinary beings.
2. Breastplate - Phantom Ghost: Grants ghostly intangibility, making the wearer immune to physical attacks upon activation.
3. Gauntlets - Iron Grip: Enhances strength and grants immunity to disarm effects.
4. Pauldrons - Elemental Balance: Stabilizes elemental energies, significantly suppressing elemental volatility.
5. Greaves - Arcane Amplifier: Increases spellcasting potency and enhances mana gathering.
6. Boots - Tread of the Wastes: Negates adverse effects of terrain such as swamps, quagmires, and snowy fields. ]
-----------------------------------
He had not only met Allen's gaze but had also been completely affected by the intimidation effect of the Conquest Armor's "Skull" helmet.
It could only be said that his luck was terrible—while Allen, the child of destiny, possessed fortune in abundance.
Of course, even if Sunny had reacted, Allen could still use the "Phantom Ghost" effect to phase through walls and move between the upper district buildings of Ban Ard.
He might have been hit by a few spells, but there would have been no fatal danger.
And now…
Facing the flickering magical glow at the end of the nearby alley, Allen stretched out his arms, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes—as if awaiting execution.
"Is it mad?!!"
"That Wild Hunt is insane?!"
"What is it trying to do?"
-----------------------------------
The mages of Ban Ard and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative froze for a moment before breaking into loud commotion.
But their actions did not stop; instead, they accelerated.
The next second—
Spells of every color rained down on Allen like a torrential storm.
The first scorching tongues of flame burned the air, demolishing one side of the nearby houses and shaking the gallery to its foundations. Blinding bolts of lightning plowed deep furrows into the ground, striking the gallery head-on. Gale winds swept up smoke, rubble, and stone pillars rising skyward amid thunderous roars…
Then came massive icicles—larger and sharper than the Drowner King's ice spears—along with eerie green poison gas, wind blades, whirlwinds, and falling rocks…
In an instant, spells of every element flooded the entire street. The air reeked of alternating heat and frost, the stench of burning and ozone filling the air, with constant booming sounds shaking the ground.
"Is it dead?!!"
Someone shouted in panic amid the deafening explosions.
Everyone was convinced that no one could survive such a concentrated magical bombardment.
Yet all still felt a lingering dread from the Wild Hunt's final act, so they didn't stop casting spells—not yet.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Amid the storm of magic, the Wild Hunt and Ortolan, both thrown off course and out of control, crashed violently into the ruins of the upper district.
Two mushroom-shaped clouds of dust rose once again over Ban Ard.
"Master Ortolan!"
The mages of the Rissberg Civil Cooperative, seeing this, immediately withdrew their staves and ran toward where Ortolan had fallen.
The number of mages around Sunny sharply decreased; the Ban Ard mages glanced at each other in confusion and instinctively stopped what they were doing.
Meanwhile, the vast black shadow shrouded in mist still continued—
Falling toward Ban Ard…
.........
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