414. The Vanishing Hero.

"Boom——"

The faces of everyone at the entrance of the valley were instantly illuminated by the white light.

The light was blinding, but everyone kept their eyes wide open.

"Rumble~"

Amidst the booming sound, a mushroom cloud rose from the core of the summoning ritual's tower, carrying a high temperature that twisted the air.

Following Tissaia's command, several female sorceresses, who were preparing to open a portal, stood dumbfounded, staring at the grand scene in the valley.

"This is... is this the noise made by the Dark God, or... or..." one of the female sorceresses mumbled.

Or was it done by that Witcher...?

The others silently filled in the rest of the sentence in their minds. They all understood why she didn't complete the thought.

After all...

A Witcher?

Wasn't that a male who mutated into a brute, good only at hunting monsters with a sword?

At most, they'd learn some basic "runes" magic tricks, which even the most junior sorcerer apprentices could master.

Such an incredible explosion and destruction—how could it have been caused by "runes" magic?

Even master-level spells couldn't create such exaggerated devastation...

But... but the Dark God...

Why would it destroy its own physical form?

"Has there ever been such... a development in a summoning ritual before?" someone asked.

"No."

A priestess from the Melitele Temple spoke. She didn't turn around, instead gazing at the valley with a shocked expression, as if muttering to herself.

"The summoning ritual is both a summoning ceremony and the physical anchor for the Dark God in this world... it's the anchor point for the Dark God's presence in this realm..."

"How could... how could it possibly sever its own connection to the world, unless it's gone mad..."

The idea of the Dark God going mad didn't seem entirely impossible...

After all, how else would it be called the Dark God?

The female sorceresses exchanged glances, still finding it even more absurd that a wolf school Witcher could cause such a disturbance.

"Tissaia, ma'am, so now..." one of the female sorceresses, awkwardly holding a black obsidian oak staff, approached Tissaia and asked softly, "Should we still open the portal?"

Tissaia's full lips parted, about to speak.

"Whoosh~"

The shockwave from the violent explosion, accompanied by a dust cloud that blocked the sky, swept toward them.

"Praise the Mother of All..." Nenneke chanted, raising her hand.

A golden, semi-transparent divine barrier blocked the entrance of the valley, shielding them from the aftermath of the explosion.

"No need..." Tissaia glanced at Ianna, whose smile was marked by the grooves of time, taking a deep breath. "The evil pressure has disappeared, and the Dark God..."

She paused for a second, unable to hide the disbelief and astonishment in her voice.

"The Dark God... seems to have been expelled by the Wolf School Witcher Master Allen!"

After she spoke, there was a brief moment of silence at the valley entrance.

All that could be heard was the sound of the wind, the rustling of branches, and the heavy clattering of debris hitting the rocky ground.

Then.

"Whoosh~"

A cheer, even more intense than the explosion, rang out through the forest.

Human soldiers, priests from the Melitele Temple, and even sorceresses from Aretuza, who had come from afar, instinctively ignored the uncertainty in Tissaia's voice.

They all cheered loudly.

"Long live Knight Allen!"

"Long live the King of Mayfest!"

"Long live the Blue Death!"

-----------------------------

Sara took a couple of breaths, leaning against a nearby cliff, and wiped the thick bloodstains from his face.

After trying a few times and realizing that the foul-smelling, dry blood of the corpse-eating creatures had already hardened and formed clumps that couldn't be wiped off, he gave up.

"I knew it! Sir Allen would never disappoint those who trust him!"

He looked up, listening to the cheers around him, revealing his bright white teeth and a hearty smile.

After going through a despairing battle...

After nearly becoming a deserter, becoming a man without a home...

After betraying the trust of the old Duke and the people of Erland, and helplessly watching the Dark God wreak havoc...

Things took a turn.

No one could describe his current emotions; he was so excited that even the mixed sounds of the cheers and the shrill screams of the corpse-eating creatures in his ears became pleasant to him.

"I think these titles are too old, not domineering enough, not strong enough, not worthy of Sir Allen's great achievements."

He laughed heartily, not even looking at who it was, and casually pulled the small man next to him into an embrace. "What do you think?"

Lawson Roche, who had been cheering with the soldiers who had narrowly escaped death, was suddenly twisted around by a great force. The strong stench of decay and sweat hit him in the face, and even though he was mostly used to the smell of the battlefield, he nearly choked.

When he finally understood what the knight, who was called Sara, had said, he froze for a moment.

The King and Death—weren't those titles strong and domineering enough?

However, Sara didn't seem to care about his opinion and muttered to himself, "It has to be big, loud, and unique, worthy of Sir Allen's achievement..."

"...Dark God Exorcist... no, that's not loud enough..."

"...The one who destroyed the Dark God summoned by the corpse-eating creatures... no, that's too long..."

"Dark God... Exorcism... Destruction... Killing... God-slayer..."

Sara's eyes lit up. He turned his head to look at Lawson Roche, only to realize that the person he was holding wasn't one of the Monster hunting soldiers, but the thrower who had destroyed the first monster nest. He blinked in surprise and said, "Ah, it's you, lucky kid!"

But he only froze for a moment, then remembered that after the monster nest had been blown up, the frenzied horde of corpse-eating creatures had prevented Lawson Roche from going back.

He looked down.

The axe that Lawson Roche was holding was still dripping with blood.

The axe had belonged to a fallen monster hunting regiment's soldier, but the blood was from the corpse-eating creatures that Lawson Roche had killed.

What a good kid... he thought, then burst into laughter and asked, "Come on, tell me, isn't the title 'God-slayer' great?"

Lawson Roche didn't think much of the title because he had received blessings from the priests and was a devout follower of Melitele.

Melitele was also a deity.

Being a God-slayer felt a bit offensive, and it might not even be a good title for Sir Allen.

Before he could say anything, the soldiers around them, hearing Sara's voice, started chanting in unison.

"God-slayer!"

"God-slayer!"

"God-slayer!"

----------------------------------

"Hahaha!" Sara laughed heartily and joined in the chant a few times, seemingly misunderstanding something. He winked at Lawson Roche. "Good eye! Looks like everyone loves the new title I gave to Sir Allen."

Lawson Roche was about to explain that he didn't agree, but when he raised his eyes, he saw the young priests, who were usually so dignified, excitedly grinning and hopping around like little girls, chanting "God-slayer! God-slayer! God-slayer..."

Well, if they wanted to call him a God-slayer, fine. The priests didn't seem to mind...

"Indeed, it's a great title." He nodded, caught up in the atmosphere.

The stench of decay and sweat around him didn't seem so bad anymore.

More importantly...

The Dark God was dead, and neither Milia nor his two children would have to live like refugees, displaced anymore.

"Life is good!" He clenched the axe in his hand and shouted along with the cheering crowd.

---------------------------------

Perhaps because Melitele had been absent for so long and the Temple of Melitele had become secularized over the years, the priests didn't seem to care much about the title of "God-slayer." They might not have considered the implications.

As the Archpriestess of the Temple, Ianna's duty was to regulate the rituals and rules within the temple, so she would surely have realized this. But she wore a smile on her face and seemed pleased as she listened to the cheers.

"The Dark God can only be exorcised, not killed."

Tissaia corrected, but it was clearly out of habit, as her voice was very soft, and only Ianna, nearby, could probably hear it in the midst of the raucous crowd.

"Old stickler, don't be so harsh," Ianna lightly patted her shoulder. "This is a victory worth celebrating. The Goddess, in her eternal, abundant wheat fields, will watch and bless us for our victory."

Old stickler... Tissaia frowned, looking at the deep lines on Ianna's face.

But she didn't say anything more and waved her staff.

On another empty horse, Vesemir suddenly woke up.

"Al... Allen... Allen!"

He saw the shattered remains of the corpse-eating ghouls on the ground, and his body shuddered as he recalled everything before he lost consciousness. Not caring about why he had fainted, he suddenly jumped off the bizarre-shaped horse, drew his sword, and rushed towards the valley.

"Tap-tap... tap..."

Vesemir took two steps and then stopped in confusion.

A semi-transparent golden barrier blocked the path to the valley. Behind the barrier, the Dark God's massive, hideous body had disappeared, replaced by a violent wind sweeping the foggy dust that blotted out the sky.

The soldiers, too, had completely shed their despair and lethargy.

And...

"God-slayer?" Vesemir muttered. "What does God-slayer mean? Could it be..."

He had an inkling.

"Allen exorcised the Dark God." Ianna smiled. "Everyone is celebrating."

Exorcised the Dark God... Vesemir didn't doubt it. Though he didn't know exactly what had happened, this was something that should have happened according to plan.

Allen, forever trustworthy!

With a sudden sigh of relief, Vesemir's body, which had been tightly tensed, softened and he collapsed onto the soft grass.

That night, he didn't even know how many rotfiend he had triggered, how many ghouls he had killed. Even the specially modified body of the Witcher Master had been overwhelmed by the burden.

In the latter half, he had been hanging on purely by willpower.

"Vesemir..." Tissaia suddenly spoke, "Master Vesemir, has the Wolf School, like the Griffin School, started researching magic recently?"

Researching magic?

The Wolf School?

Vesemir looked at Tissaia in confusion.

Tissaia studied his expression for a few seconds before nodding.

It seemed the ability that caused the explosive destruction of the Dark God had nothing to do with the Wolf School. The Witchers of the Wolf School still only knew how to wield swords like brutes...

It was all Vera's special apprentice.

She turned her head to look at the valley, where the explosion had calmed down.

"What do you mean?" Vesemir furrowed his brows. He felt like Tissaia was thinking something impolite.

"Nothing, just curious," Tissaia shifted the topic. "After this, I'd like to invite Allen... and you, to visit the Aretuza Academy, and maybe give a lecture on monster lore to the apprentices..."

"This war to exorcise the Dark God has revealed many issues with the female mages of Aretuza."

"The Northern Continent might become increasingly unstable, and we need some professionals to raise the apprentices' vigilance."

"Of course..."

She paused and then added, "Aretuza Academy is willing to pay for knowledge."

Though Vesemir found Tissaia's tone strange, he couldn't find a reason to refuse and was about to agree.

Ianna suddenly stopped smiling, coldly glancing at Tissaia and reminding her: "Tissaia, Allen is Vera's apprentice."

"I know he's Vera's genius alchemy apprentice," Tissaia smiled softly, "It's just a lecture for the girls, nothing more."

Ianna gave her a long, deep look and said nothing further.

Vesemir frowned tightly, his gaze shifting back and forth between Tissaia and Ianna.

He felt that Tissaia's invitation wasn't just about raising the apprentices' vigilance as she said, but was closely related to Allen, perhaps due to the way Allen exorcised the Dark God?

No! It must be.

"Wait..."

Vesemir didn't rush to respond, instead surveying his surroundings.

They had been mentioning Allen for a while, and the soldiers, priests, and female mages had all been cheering for his great achievements, even before the bards, giving him a new title. But...

"Where's Allen?" Vesemir's gaze shifted back and forth. "Where is Allen?"

Ianna and Tissaia, sitting on the bizarre-shaped horse, both tensed and exchanged a look, realizing the problem.

The explosion had happened almost three to four minutes ago.

But where was Allen?

Why hadn't he come out yet?

Could it be...

They suddenly turned around and looked at the still-smoking valley, their expressions changing drastically.

Vesemir also realized something, his face turning pale as he followed their gaze.

Outside the semi-transparent golden barrier.

The shockwave from the explosion had already dissipated, the dust slowly settling, and with his keen Witcher vision, Vesemir could only see the corpse-eating creatures slowly rising from the ground.

Ghouls... Rotfiends... Rotfiends... Alghoul... Ghoul...Scurver...

But no Allen!

There was no sign of the man who, after every monster hunt and disaster, would either appear easily, or wounded, or with scars, carrying his twin swords.

He should have been here, just like every hero in the epics who drives out Dark Gods or slays dragons for humanity.

Carrying the gruesome head, holding his bloodstained longsword, walking out from the mist and the valley, receiving the cheers, gratitude, admiration, and worship of everyone...

But no!

They couldn't find their hero!

Even more terrifying...

There were countless corpse-eating creatures still in the valley.

The pale golden barrier was suddenly lifted, and Ianna stood up from the bizarre-shaped horse.

Tissaia, in sync, cast a spell to amplify her voice.

"Everyone!" Ianna pointed at the valley, shouting loudly, "The battle is not over! Pick up your longswords, axes, staffs, and go save our hero!"

The noise at the valley entrance fell silent for a moment.

Once they understood what Ianna had said, the crowd instantly grew agitated.

"Save our hero!" Sara raised his longsword, still glowing faintly, and charged into the valley.

Lawson Roche hesitated for a moment, thought of something, and gritted his teeth, following closely behind.

Then came the monster hunting regiment's soldiers, farmers with pitchforks, female mages with staffs, and even the female priests, all wielding their daggers, charging in.

The corpse-eating creatures, freed from the Dark God's control, had just gotten up confusedly when they were caught off guard.

At that moment...

"Screech—"

The great griffin, which had been ignored by everyone, let out a loud cry from the sky.

.....

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