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Chapter 293 - Chapter 293: The Battle for Undvik

Clan Tordarroch is one of the seven most influential clans controlling the Skellige Isles. Clan Tordarroch is native to Undvik. They are renowned for master smiths and excellent fisherman. A famous forge where the best tools and weapons of all the islands were made belongs to them.

Clan Tordarroch was formed from collateral branches of the other six main clans, which explains why they rarely involve themselves in the political affairs of the Isles and have never competed for the throne of Skellige, staying out of it.

However, due to their outstanding skill in forging, comparable even to that of the dwarves, the other clans cannot ignore their presence. Thanks to these skills, the wealth obtained from raids and wars inevitably ends up in the hands of the Tordarroch, consolidating their economic strength despite their political isolation.

But recent events have shown that economic strength does not mean military strength, and forged weapons do not kill enemies by themselves. The hammer that shapes iron will never be as lethal as the hammer that cracks skulls.

Yoana had never seen so many monsters together as she had today. These creatures darkened both the earth and the blue sky. She had also never seen a frost giant, a figure so tall that it almost reached the height of her clan's castle.

The solid stone walls gave way under the blows of that colossus as if they were paper.

Even the strongest man in Yoana's eyes, her father, Harald an Tordarroch, had disappeared in the palm of that monstrosity.

And worst of all: that damn giant knew how to use weapons!

Every time Yoana thought of the huge oak mace he wielded, almost as tall as the castle itself, a shiver ran through her body. Was there a tree in the world big enough to make such a weapon?

A whistling sound cut through the air. A siren, noticing the young blonde separated from the group, swooped down on her. These creatures always preferred small, vulnerable prey.

"Miss Yoana!" a loyal guard shouted as he pushed her out of the way. He covered the gap in the defense that the carelessness had created. The siren's teeth clashed against the refined steel, and the guard decapitated her with his axe in one well-aimed blow.

But there was no time for celebration. More sirens surrounded the guard. They lifted him up in their claws and carried him into the sky, where they released him. The heavy armor could not cushion the impact as his body crashed to the ground.

The scream was cut off abruptly. Yoana felt her face lose even more color.

"Miss Yoana, run! You are the only member of the Tordarroch clan still alive." More guards gathered around her, protecting the heiress as they retreated towards the shore of the island.

"No! My father is not dead. I saw how the ice giant took him. That thing did not kill him, we have to rescue him!" Yoana protested with a desperate cry. "Master Fritjof has already gone to get reinforcements. The Tordarroch clan cannot leave the island of Undvik! We cannot let the monsters defeat the islanders!"

The young girl looked anxiously towards the place where Fritjof had teleported, desperately waiting for signs of his return.

"Defend this point!" She ordered firmly. "This is the place where Master Fritjof will activate the teleportation portal. If we retreat now, the reinforcements will arrive unprepared and will be easy prey for the monsters."

Yoana tried to lift the spirits of the exhausted warriors.

More monsters spotted them, heading towards them. Although they fought back, they could not escape the creatures' sight. The enemy's numbers increased, while the defenders fell one by one.

Just when Yoana thought all was lost, a thunderous crash shook the sky.

A gigantic portal opened with a roar, unleashing a gale that lifted the snow from the ground, forming a whirlwind.

Warriors with long, deep blue shields came out first, moving with speed and experience. They raised their weapons, joining the Tordarroch clan guards in repelling the monsters attacking them.

Eist then appeared, surrounded by a group of bodyguards who protected him in tight formation. As soon as he set foot outside the portal, his gaze met Yoana's. Without wasting any time, he unsheathed the sword at his waist and, with a war cry, led his personal guard towards her.

However, before he even got halfway there, Eist's body began to glow with an intense emerald green light. A golden glow emerged beside him.

After a brief pause, Eist and his escort continued forward, leaving behind the figure that appeared from the golden glow.

He was a golden-haired knight riding an imposing black horse.

To avoid the dizziness caused by teleportation portals, Lann had decided to use his [Teleport] skill, taking Eist as the coordinate point.

The next instant, Lann activated his ability again. Four luminous spheres emerged around him and, in a flash, Geralt, Kolgrim, Coen and Gerd appeared beside him.

"Now I understand why mages consider portals as a symbol of superior status among themselves. And honestly, I'm starting to enjoy this strategy." Kolgrim muttered to himself, then looked up and breathed in cold air as he saw the sirens in the sky. "Oh my god... there must be hundreds of sirens here... there are necrophages on the ground too! Have all the monsters on this island gathered here?"

Geralt quickly scanned the battlefield and commented: "At least I don't see the ice giant. Which is a stroke of luck."

After finishing speaking, Geralt unsheathed his silver sword and joined the fight alongside Coen. Both used their magic signs: Igni, to generate intense flames, and Aard, to unleash violent gusts of wind that knocked the sirens down as they dived from the sky. Once on the ground, the human soldiers quickly shot them down.

The battle began as soon as they landed.

Kolgrim sighed and charged into battle. The witchers of the Viper School, save for Letho, were not particularly effective in mass engagements. Still, the school's signature venom proved invaluable. He moved through the rotfiends like a shadow, leaving deadly wounds in his wake. After a few steps, the wounded monsters began to tremble and explode like time bombs, taking several of their fellow monsters with them. This made the task of Skellige's soldiers much easier.

The most impressive of all was Gerd. Unlike the others, who acted as tactical support, he charged forward with a roar, enveloped in a particularly powerful Quen Sign. Wielding a longer than usual sword, he charged straight into the Necrophages, seeking out the Rotfiends and forcing them to explode before dying. Thanks to his mastery of the Quen Sign, the explosions barely produced ripples in his protective barrier without causing any real damage.

The witchers' efforts instantly relieved the pressure on the soldiers.

However, they were only four people. No matter how powerful they were, they could not turn the tide of the battle on their own. Still, their support proved crucial in easing the burden on the soldiers and creating space for reinforcement troops to enter the scene. This prevented the new soldiers from being completely disoriented in the face of the horde of monsters, minimizing unnecessary losses.

Soldiers emerged from the portal without pause, until the flow stopped after reaching approximately five hundred men. The last to emerge was Fritjof, who quickly approached Eist's side with a serious expression, observing the battlefield attentively.

"If we continue like this, there will be too many unnecessary casualties. The ground troops are at a clear disadvantage against these flying monsters, even with the help of the witchers," he commented gravely.

Fritjof took a deep breath before continuing, "The witchers' approach against the sirens is correct. We need to learn from them. I require about fifteen minutes to prepare a spell that will unleash a storm capable of covering the entire battlefield, knocking these creatures out of the sky and creating an opportunity for our men. During that time, I need your troops to protect me."

Eist quickly assessed the situation and agreed to Fritjof's plan. He turned to his soldiers and raised his voice: "Hjalmar, Cerys!"

The young men of the Craite clan immediately stepped forward. Although Crach had returned to gather his clan's soldiers, he left his sons to support the battle. This was the first time the brothers had experienced a battlefield of such magnitude. Their faces showed a flush of excitement, and although their youth made them seem inexperienced, Eist had complete confidence in them; as heirs and members of the main branch of the Craite clan, they had received an elite education and training.

"Take forty men with you and protect Master Fritjof. He must not suffer even the slightest harm!" Eist ordered. Then he directed his lieutenant to blow the war horn.

"The rest of you, form a defensive circle with your shields! Protect the members of the Tordarroch clan. Since the ice giant is not here, then we will first exterminate these creatures completely."

The deep sound of the horn echoed throughout the battlefield, attracting the attention of every being present. That was precisely Eist's goal: to concentrate the creatures on the army so that the civilians and other refugees on the island would be relatively safe.

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