"The Duchess, in her infinite generosity, had invited the witcher to join the just cause! And what did that damned mutant do? He refused the offer and humiliated our lady!"
"Does that mutant really think he can hide in this nest of pirates, bandits and criminals? The Duchess's justice will catch up with him sooner or later!"
Chastek continued to speak with rage and indignation, completely ignoring the increasingly violent rocking of the ship beneath his feet.
"Sir Chastek…" a sailor murmured worriedly as he watched something on the horizon.
But Chastek paid no attention to him and continued his harangue. "The gods have blessed our mission by allowing us to find the trail of the evil Gerd! Too bad they didn't manage to kill him on Ard Skellig. Damn pirates, protecting him as if he were one of their own! They even killed the knight Chalimir and half of our men!"
"Sir Chastek!" another sailor insisted, his voice filled with alarm.
"Serving the Duchess is the greatest honor one can have! And anyone who refuses her call is a vile traitor. That witcher, a simple monster hunter, refused to eliminate the usurper. A monster disguised as a man! He is a disgrace to his own profession and must pay in blood for it…"
"Sir Chastek! A storm is coming!" the sailor cried in despair.
Before Chastek could react, a fierce gust of wind struck his armor, causing him to stagger. To his surprise, the small sailboat that had previously only been visible through the telescope was now less than a hundred meters away. On its deck he could make out the figure of a bald, bearded man wrapped in an animal-skin robe.
Chastek had never seen a ship move so fast. But before the transport ship could hit the small sailboat, his own ship was suddenly lifted into the air as if tossed by a giant wave.
...
The sea roared and the sky darkened with threatening clouds.
Giant waves rose relentlessly, only to crash down into the void.
It was a climate that no experienced sailor or fisherman would choose to set sail in.
However, these waves, almost as if they had a will of their own, formed a circle in the center of which only slight undulations were barely perceptible, while chaos reigned at the edges.
At the center of this circle of calm, Artis stood atop his small boat. The sails were filled to the brim, stretched to the limit by the gale-force wind, so that it seemed as if they would tear at any moment. But the same wind that threatened to destroy them was propelling the boat at a speed its structure would never have withstood without extraordinary help.
Artis was meditating with his eyes closed, concentrating on controlling his natural magic. Suddenly, his ears picked up a distant sound. Between the roar of the waves and the whistling of the wind, he thought he heard cries for help and lamentations.
"They're just more offerings for the blood sacrifice," he muttered indifferently.
He continued sailing through the storm for another half day, the boat groaning under his feet, making alarming creaking sounds until he finally reached his destination: the island of Undvik.
After Artis stepped with both feet onto the reef off the coast, the small sailboat finally broke its mast and crumbled behind him. There were vines connecting the wooden planks. Obviously, the ship hadn't been able to stay afloat for long and had relied on the druid's natural magic to barely keep itself going.
Artis knelt on the rocks, resting his oak staff on his thighs as his pale face reflected exhaustion. He closed his eyes and sank into deep meditation to recover his almost completely depleted magic.
It wasn't until the moon rose high that he opened his eyes, color faintly returning to his cheeks. However, the air was filled with an eerie sound: the shrieking of monstrous creatures piercing the night.
Artis looked up and saw the winged beasts with human torsos and serpent tails. They had detected the presence of a human and were charging forward in search of prey.
And Artis showed a bloodthirsty smile, swallowing a mouthful of saliva while showing a hungry expression. "Sirens... Hybrid Monsters... How beautiful!"
...
Half an hour later.
Artis pulled his head out of a torn fragment of a snake's tail, chewing and swallowing hard. The blood and fresh meat gave him back the energy he had lost after a full day of spellcasting.
With blood still sticky in his mouth, he pulled out some glowing mushrooms and a jar of herbal juice he had prepared in advance from his pocket. Though he had just had his fill of the sirens' remains, he devoured the items like a starving refugee, mopping up every last drop.
Then he looked up at the snow-capped mountains that dominated the island.
Meditation had restored much of her magical energy, but Artis did not use magic. Instead, she grabbed her oak staff, now transformed into a long rod, and began walking across the rough terrain, leaving deep footprints in the snow.
Along the way, his robes were burned by the corrosive explosions of carrion monsters, his head was marked by the claws of swooping sirens, and his body was torn apart again and again by countless beasts. However, Artis only used his martial skills to face them, guarding his magical energy as if it were a treasure.
Finally, he stopped in front of a gigantic cave. Inside it, a colossal shadow loomed.
Artis, covered in wounds, smiled widely. "Ice Giant!"
He stabbed his oak staff hard into the frozen rock on the ground and began to chant a spell. Magical waves rippled around him. Under a crimson light, his staff began to lengthen and transform, taking the form of a wooden statue. It featured claws, bear-like fur, and blood-stained reliefs.
The statue of the god Svalblod.
The magical power attracted the attention of the ice giant. From the depths of his throat came a growl that resounded like an earthquake. All around him, the temperature dropped sharply, announcing the beginning of a snowstorm.
Artis knew that even at his peak he could not match this ancient beast, either in physical strength or magical prowess.
However, his eyes shone with an unusual fervor, and a smile of ecstasy appeared on his face.
"An unrivaledly powerful body, innate magical abilities, centuries of unbeaten victories, and the respect of the mountain beasts... All of this is simply…"
"Beautiful!"
The statue of Svalblod emitted a bloody glow, exhaling a nauseating stench, while screams and prayers seemed to echo around it.
Artis knelt in devotion amidst the storm and the giant's roars, crying out to the heavens: "Oh, great God Svalblod!"
"Six hundred and sixty-six archipelago dwellers, one hundred and sixty-six elite Vildkaarl warriors, thirty-three desperate berserkers, seven of the most devout believers who fed their bodies to the giant bears, and three druid apprentices who gave their magic-filled blood. All of them form this blood sacrifice for you."
"The betrayal at the family banquet, the chaos of the Skelligers' power struggle, and the final cries of the faithful before their sacrifice... It was all planned to please you, my god."
The ice giant roared in fury, approaching with steps that made the earth tremble.
"Although some berserkers managed to escape, leaving the sacrifice incomplete, it does not matter. The seed of faith is planted in their hearts. Soon, they too will pray for you, offering you more strength."
"I fought my way through enemies with the sole hope that this desperate struggle would succeed in capturing your attention, even if only for an instant. And, in the end, offer the final sacrifice."
The giant extended his colossal hand towards him, while a freezing air flowed out.
However, Artis smiled. "The final sacrifice? That sacrifice… is me, a Source of Magic."
The hand closed, trapping Artis in a fist of ice. The giant then raised his arm, placing it over his mouth before opening his fist. Artis' body fell into mere fragments of flesh and bone.
Amidst the icy air, fervent cries could be vaguely heard: "Oh, my God, Svalblod!"
All sound was covered by the sound of the ancient beast's colossal teeth, which chewed and swallowed the human.
The creature shifted its gaze to the wooden statue blocking the entrance to its cave. Each step of the giant made the ground tremble, and just as its hand touched the statue to remove it, an ominous glow erupted from the eyes carved into the wood.
A nauseating stench, like that of a slaughterhouse filled with corpses, spread through the air, covering the cave walls in a thick red that replaced the blue glow of the ice. The blood-red glow seemed to come to life, like a conscious plague, and crept towards the giant's body, piercing his skin and burrowing deep inside.
The ice giant roared in pain. His voice, deep and harsh, resonated as if it were emerging from the depths of the abyss. His eyes turned completely red, radiating uncontrolled fury, as if he wanted to destroy everything around him.
The echo of its roar crossed mountains, valleys and cliffs, reaching the coast. The sound waves broke the calm of the snowy peaks, causing avalanches. Birds, beasts and monsters fled in terror, immersed in the chaos of what seemed like a natural disaster.
As time went on, the roar grew sharper, as if the ice itself had been transformed into blades. The giant's muscles and bones began to contract in grotesque ways. Above the mountain, the clear sky filled with lightning, announcing a deadly omen.
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