Our Family Has Fallen

One might dodge a bullet from the shadows, but not a sword drawn in the open.

Faced with Geralt’s Longsword, the Saintess had only two choices at this moment. She could either give up the Sorcery she was about to complete, or resist forcefully, betting he couldn’t kill her.

But she actually had another choice: to drag everyone to Hell with her own death.

She laughed then, having evidently made her decision. Never thought the final sacrifice would be myself...

Geralt, seeing the strange expression on her face and her unflinching stance, immediately grew alert.

But let’s not forget, he is a master Witcher who has lived for who knows how many years. Though he didn’t understand her Sorcery, he could still sense something was off from her reaction.

In that same instant, he grasped the crux of the situation. The edge of the Longsword in his hand suddenly changed course, no longer aimed at her head but swinging towards another critical spot.

”No!”

With a strange cry from the Saintess, the arm fused with the bizarre Magic Wand was severed at the root and flew into the air.

Ignoring the pain from her severed arm, the Saintess’s first instinct was to try and snatch it back. However, Geralt wasn’t just going to stand by; he immediately moved in and kicked her fiercely away.

They feel no pain. Seeing her reaction, Geralt knew his guess was correct: the real key to the Sorcery was indeed that eerie Magic Wand.

But before Geralt could breathe a sigh of relief, the eyeball atop the Magic Wand did not stop; it continued to open slowly. Meanwhile, the once Flesh-filled arm was visibly shriveling into a mummified state.

Geralt swung his Longsword, attempting to destroy the Magic Wand. But at that moment, an aura that made him shudder was released. He felt the threat of death, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Without hesitation, he abandoned the attack and turned to sprint away.

How fast was Geralt’s burst of speed?

It was beyond human limits; the naked eye could barely follow his figure.

But the naked eye could see the corpses lying around the Magic Wand instantly turn to mummies, as if their Life Force had been drained. The blood-drenched ground turned eerily pale.

A dead zone formed, ten yards in radius, with the Magic Wand as its epicenter.

Had Geralt reacted a fraction of a second slower, he might have been caught within it.

But this was just the beginning. After plundering enough power, the eyeball fully opened...

”Run!” Geralt shouted. He could feel the power behind him not weakening but expanding. Who knew what was about to happen? Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t good.

The soldiers who witnessed this were somewhat dumbfounded. They were at least fifty yards from the Magic Wand and couldn’t even see the eyeball on it. Moreover, lacking Extraordinary perception, they naturally couldn’t sense what Geralt did.

Seeing Geralt rushing back, with the defensive line they had just fought to retake beneath their feet, they didn’t know what to do.

”Retreat! Quickly!” Balistan stepped forward, making the decision to fall back.

The others might not have known Geralt’s strength, but Balistan had gleaned some understanding from the Lord. Even if the details were vague, Geralt’s valor in charging alone into the midst of the Heretics to find the Spellcasters spoke volumes of his power. Now, seeing even such a formidable individual fleeing back, Balistan dared not gamble. His earlier brashness had already cost him dearly; this time, he chose to trust his companion.

Military orders are absolute. The soldiers didn’t hesitate for long before abandoning the positions they had fought hard to win, pulling back.

The Heretics, on the other hand, were already without command; with the Deacon and Saintess no longer directing them, they milled about like headless flies. But at this very moment, the secret technique was completed. A powerful force was unleashed, sweeping across the entire battlefield.

The uncontrolled Sorcery made no distinction between friend or foe. However, these Heretic beings, whose structures differed from normal humans and who shared an origin with the Sorcery, were unharmed by it. Instead, it plunged them into a berserk frenzy.

In contrast, Hamlet’s men felt an inexplicable and terrifying despair flood their minds. It devoured their courage and strength, and the intense emotions nearly made them lose control.

”I can’t take it anymore!”

”I don’t want to die here!”

”Oh~ I feel my Flesh dissolving...”

Under the influence of the Sorcery’s power, panic spread through the crowd. Geralt’s warning had kept them away from the Sorcery’s main effective range; merely being touched by its periphery had this devastating an effect. If they hadn’t pulled back in time, perhaps many more would have collapsed.

Yet, even under the Sorcery’s oppressive influence, the brilliance of humanity would always find a way to burst forth.

”I will not submit to you!”

”We will prevail!”

”My heart is steadfast; don’t even think of breaking me!”

Some soldiers were not overcome by fear. Facing their terror head-on, they erupted with even greater power.

The mind is fragile, yet it can also unleash power beyond imagination.

And those soldiers who had already endured the pressure of the monster’s charge handled this new threat with relative ease. After all, having faced down charging monsters, they naturally wouldn’t back down so easily now.

Barrett, atop the broken wall, also felt the disturbance. He took a deep breath to calm the agitation in his heart. He didn’t know whether it was his adrenaline fading or some other reason, but he felt his condition wasn’t as good as before. But seeing the frenzied Heretics below, he couldn’t dwell on it and hurriedly resumed shooting.

Were the frenzied Heretics terrifying?