Chapter 156 – The Last Lick...
Everyone crouched in the reeds, quietly observing the situation from afar.
"Judging from the footprints, it looks like the Innsmouth cultists are all hiding in that cave," Lynn said. "But I doubt they'll just let us walk in."
"Sir Maximus, you and Lord Regis—Regis should stay here. Geralt and I will handle those guys ourselves."
Lynn quickly made tactical arrangements based on the current team.
But Maximus couldn't hold back.
"Master Lynn, you've already looked after me during the scouting. If I shrink away from the fight now, it would bring shame to my honor. Please, I must join the battle."
Lynn, however, rejected his offer without hesitation.
The ranger-knight's heavy armor might be fine on flat ground, but in this slippery, swampy terrain, it would only become a burden.
It was just like the famous Battle of Agincourt during the Hundred Years' War.
Without the muddy terrain that bogged down the French knights and the chaos in their command structure, England's longbows—however formidable—wouldn't have secured such a decisive victory.
Lynn offered Maximus a few kind words to soothe his pride, then began preparing for battle alongside Geralt.
Even though they were only up against a few cultists, no one could guarantee there wasn't a whole army of them deeper in the cave, ready to come pouring out at a moment's notice.
Complacency could be fatal.
And witchers who get careless don't live long.
Lynn pulled a few vials of advanced potions from his runed pouch and handed half of them to Geralt.
In alchemy, Lynn was on par with Vesemir—the ancient relic of Kaer Morhen. Even Geralt couldn't quite compare.
Geralt accepted them without argument.
Advanced potions took effect much faster than regular ones, and the telltale signs of toxicity soon became visible on their faces.
Sharing a quick glance, Lynn and Geralt burst out of the reeds like icefield wolves, charging the cultists guarding the cave entrance.
Lynn's masterwork silver sword flashed like a silver arc, slicing down hard into a cultist's shoulder before the man even had time to react.
The cultist's eyes dimmed, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud, blood gushing from his mouth like a fountain.
A faint warmth surged through Lynn's sword into his body.
At the same time, the cultist's life force rapidly faded away.
Lynn released the sword and quickly dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a pitchfork thrust at him.
In a flash, he grabbed the pitchfork's shaft with one hand and slammed his palm into its wielder's chest.
"Aard."
Boosted by a master-level Sign, high-grade Petri's Philter, and the "mutagen enhancement," Lynn's Aard Sign exploded with terrifying force.
Boom!
At such close range, the Sign detonated inside the cultist's body, blowing out his organs and spine in a gruesome blast.
Lynn casually discarded the bloodied pitchfork and calmly retrieved his silver sword from the previous corpse.
Then, as if he had eyes on his back, he spun around like a dancer, swinging his blade in a perfect half-arc.
The sword cleaved effortlessly through the skull of another cultist trying to ambush him from behind.
Elsewhere, Geralt had already dispatched three cultists of his own.
The whole skirmish lasted no more than a few breaths.
With the guards at the cave entrance taken care of, Lynn and Geralt waved for Maximus and Regis to follow, and the four entered the cave together.
Inside, the cave was dimly lit.
A damp chill hung in the air, making the atmosphere feel oppressive and cold.
The sound of dripping water echoed off the walls.
The ground underfoot was slick and wet—every step required caution.
But the ambush they had expected never came. The cave had no forks or side tunnels, and they walked forward uninterrupted for several minutes until they were stopped by a dark pool of water.
At this moment, Regis stepped forward and volunteered.
"Lynn, I believe I should be the one to scout ahead this time. You, Geralt, and the good knight should stay here."
"I don't mean to underestimate anyone," he added, "but even witchers struggle with underwater combat."
Lynn nodded.
Geralt didn't object either.
Both of them already knew Regis's true identity—
He was a higher vampire.
A near-immortal being.
Only another higher vampire or legendary sorcerers like Alzur, "Pure White" Raphad, or Vilgefortz could pose a real threat to someone like Regis.
"Then we'll leave it to you, Regis," Lynn said politely.
Maximus looked stunned.
He had no idea what a "higher vampire" was.
To him, Regis was just a humble barber-surgeon.
He was about to speak when Regis, as if reading his thoughts, smiled and gave him a playful wink.
Then, right in front of the ranger-knight, Regis transformed into a misty cloud and slipped into the pool with a splash.
Maximus gaped, completely dumbfounded.
Geralt, on the other hand, wasn't surprised. A pitchfork couldn't even kill a higher vampire—turning into mist was nothing special.
What really annoyed him was that Lynn and Regis kept making decisions for him without asking.
"Do you two ever think about consulting me first? Why do you always decide for me?"
Lynn could hear the irritation in his voice, sounding almost like a scorned lover.
He immediately understood.
With exaggerated humility, he gave Geralt a courtly bow.
"Very well, esteemed Master Geralt. Would you do me the honor of staying here with me?"
"To be in the presence of such a skilled witcher is a great privilege. I am truly humbled, brought to tears, and at a loss for words."
Veins bulged on Geralt's forehead.
"Lynn... you're not Yennefer's long-lost brother or secret son, are you? You sound just like her."
"When she's pissed off, she starts using formal titles too. Like 'dearest friend.'"
He was referring to Yennefer of Vengerberg.
His relationship with her was... complicated, to say the least.
Every time she showed up, Geralt turned obedient and mild-mannered.
Some might call Geralt a simp.
But he actually won his goddess's heart in the end.
He didn't just worship her from a dark corner, crying little pearl-like tears in secret.
Ten minutes later, a cloud of mist rose from the water and reformed into Regis's usual appearance.
"All clear. I've eliminated the dangers underwater," he reported. "But just above the water's surface, there's a chamber that looks like a gathering hall. I think all the cultists are assembled there, so once you surface—stay quiet."
"How long will it take to swim there?" Lynn asked.
"At a normal pace, under ten minutes."
And so they got ready.
All three removed their outer layers and armor, leaving only their undershirts and shorts.
Then, following Regis, they slipped into the icy water.
The underwater darkness was even more oppressive than the cave.
But Lynn and Geralt had taken high-grade Cat potions, so the darkness didn't affect them at all.
Regis, being a higher vampire, didn't need any potions—his night vision was innate.
Only Maximus was basically blind underwater.
He couldn't see a thing.
Fortunately, the two witchers swam on either side of him, guiding him forward.
That way, the ranger-knight wouldn't lose his way in the depths.
Trailing behind Regis, Lynn also noticed several floating corpses in the water.
Their appearance and attire matched the cultists guarding the cave entrance.
And they had died only recently.
Clearly, Regis had killed them while scouting earlier.
After several minutes of swimming, a faint glow appeared above the surface ahead.
Lynn and Geralt pushed forward and emerged with Maximus.
Regis, in front, signaled for silence.
Lynn gave a slight nod and began scanning the surroundings.
The chamber was about the size of a sports arena, clearly carved and flattened by human hands.
At the deepest part of the cave stood a large painting.
It depicted a humanoid figure standing atop stormy seas.
It stood four meters tall, with no visible facial features.
Its face was dominated by a single enormous mouth that constantly dripped seawater.
Dozens of cultists knelt in prayer before the painting.
It was obvious now—all the cultists from Innsmouth were gathered here.
At that moment, a cultist priest stepped forward. Unlike the others, he wore a robe and a strange crown on his forehead.
As if hearing a whisper from the void, he suddenly turned his head.
His fish-like eyes locked directly onto the group just emerging from the water.
A second later, a shrill, piercing screech rang out.
The entire chamber exploded into chaos.
The ritual site had erupted into full frenzy.
(End of Chapter)
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