However, incidents like "Jerry's" were not isolated occurrences within Foltest's guard ranks.
Cries, screams, frenzied muttering, and the clashing of weapons. The sounds of frightened shouts and struggles between comrades echoed across the entire Royal Guard's defensive line. At a glance, at least a third of the Knights of the White Lily were behaving strangely.
Some, like Jerry, had gone mad and were attacking all living creatures around them indiscriminately — friend or foe alike. Some abruptly stopped fighting, their gazes vacant and lifeless. After standing in a daze for a moment, they suddenly turned and, staggering, attempted to walk toward the centre of the frozen lake in the distance. Others clutched their heads in agony and collapsed to their knees, letting out inhuman groans. Their bodies convulsed and rolled uncontrollably, as if something were writhing beneath their skin...
This once-elite force quickly collapsed and descended into chaos under the direct and indirect influence of Dagon. It not only failed to form an effective resistance but also became a burden and a new source of chaos.
In contrast, under Karl's command, Dalton and his group, along with the mages such as Hen and Triss providing support from the rear, remained unaffected. Despite being under the same pressure and influence of Dagon, they showed no signs of mental disorder or physical deformities.
Applying breathing techniques, Dalton and his companions silently dispatched the approaching fish-men. The magic and faith permeating their armour formed a thin film, protecting them from attacks and mental shocks.
Meanwhile, the mages behind them were also having a difficult time.
Triss's cheeks were slightly flushed, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she hurled fireballs one after another, blasting apart the deformed mass of flesh that had just assembled from minced meat. Yet the mass of flesh continued to writhe, attempting to fuse back together.
Yennefer's long fingers were wrapped in lightning, and an electrical discharge, like a chain whip, sent a fish-man attempting to lunge at a flanking knight flying. But it quickly rose again, staggering, its body blackened by soot, yet seemingly feeling no pain.
Margarita's eyes flashed brightly as she extended her slender hand and made a grasping motion in the air toward three fish-men clustered nearby. The air around the three fish-men instantly compressed under an invisible force. Before they could even scream, they exploded into three chunks of flesh, like crushed berries. However, just a few seconds later, the three chunks of flesh began to move again, drawing toward each other and attempting to fuse into something even more repulsive.
Margarita frowned, her expression becoming extremely serious. She looked at Triss, Yennefer, and Keira standing beside her, who were also casting spells and looking tired.
"No! Ordinary spells can't kill them; we can't completely destroy them!"
"Even if they're reduced to mincemeat, they can regenerate!"
"Fire can slightly slow down the self-healing and tissue fusion process, but its effect is limited!"
Her gaze swept across the front line, and she quickened her pace: "Switch to control spells! Restrict their movement, and let the knights in front, whose weapons can deal effective damage, handle them!"
These words drew a flash of admiration in the eyes of Hen and Tissaia, who had been calmly observing from the side and had yet to take any decisive action. Hen chuckled and whispered to his old friend beside him: "Quick reaction, accurate assessment."
"Tissaia, the students you've trained are truly very good."
"The ability to quickly identify problems and adjust tactics under the pressure of actual combat — that's a rare quality."
Tissaia gave a slight nod, her gaze still fixed on the battlefield, but a faint trace of satisfaction appeared at the corner of her mouth.
Margarita heard Hen's praise but had no time to accept it now; she pointed at Geralt and the others fighting on the front line.
"Look at his knights! Their weapons — whether halberds, swords, or crossbows — are clearly effective when attacking these monsters."
"Wounds from their weapons heal significantly slower, and they look burnt and charred."
"Moreover, the monsters show clear signs of pain; they didn't 'scream' when our spells killed them!"
Hearing this, Triss and the others immediately turned around and, sure enough, saw Dalton pierce a fish-man's chest with his halberd, flames erupting from the wound. The fish-man let out a piercing howl, and its wounds, covered in a faint golden light, no longer healed as quickly as before. Philipp swung his halberd, and the fish-man's wounds from the blade hissed and emitted black smoke, noticeably slowing its movements. When Geralt's silver sword struck a fish-man, the residual oil on it, combined with the silver sword's inherent resistance to monsters, made the wound heal slowly.
In contrast, they had been hurling fireballs at the fish-men, incinerating them with lightning, or crushing them with atmospheric spells. Though they temporarily lost the ability to move, the flesh parts quickly gathered back together, and they felt no pain.
"Got it!" Triss decisively ceased casting fire spells, made gestures with her hands, and began to chant. Yennefer followed suit, focusing her gaze on a fish-man that lunged at her side with outstretched claws. She traced a line with her finger, and magic surged forth.
The fish-man's underwater power suddenly halted, and in the next moment, its entire body was enveloped in magical light, its size rapidly shrinking and deforming. With a soft "pop" accompanied by a puff of white smoke, the repulsive mutated fish-man vanished from its spot. In its place stood a goat with dishevelled wool, its head tilted and looking somewhat confused.
"Baa~?" the goat bleated instinctively. It turned its head and looked around, clearly bewildered by its surroundings.
However, this confusion lasted less than two seconds. In the goat's eyes, once calm and docile, wildness and madness quickly reignited. It let out a low growl, nothing like a sheep's bleat, lowered its head, and attempted to butt the nearest knight with its horns.
Though a goat's charge was negligible against a knight in full plate armour, this strange scene still sent chills down one's spine. Even transformation spells couldn't completely eliminate their aggression? They could only temporarily change their form?
"Get away from there!" Mousesack's hoarse call came to the knight. The ground beneath the goat's hooves suddenly churned, and several thick, thorny green vines sprouted from the soil. The vines instantly tightly wrapped around the restless goat, pinning it in place. No matter how it struggled or kicked, it couldn't break free.
Mousesack nodded to Yennefer, then shifted his gaze to the other "goats" that were again showing signs of aggression. His staff shimmered with green light, and more vines grew from the frozen ground to bind them.
"It's working! But it requires constant control!" Triss called out. The magical rope she wielded also bound a "goat," and Keira, seeing this, quickly followed suit and changed her spell strategy.