The urging of the Lady of the Lake has been on and off for a week now.
She’s been delaying the opening days of the Conjunction of the Spheres rift, and Lann, after getting his hands on the equipment he’d long desired, had no intention of delaying anymore.
Bopai was already quite familiar with the route from Gos Velen to Vizima, and to save some time, Lann took a river ferry halfway.
He originally planned to just ride through this time, using the journey as a way to relax.
But after dragging out the Space Expansion Spell for two days, he hurried to catch up.
Lann disembarked before reaching the docks in Vizima’s waters. He had already agreed with Veltrest to steer clear of this political whirlwind. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on nοvelfire.net
Although from the news received these past few days, Veltrest seems to have handled most of Steza’s remaining forces.
Still, Lann believes that if unnecessary, it’s better to be a person who keeps his promises.
Bopai was entrusted to the owner of the Dark Water Inn by Lann, who left ten uncut Oren Coins as payment for meals.
Belenagar still doesn’t know how long he’ll be stuck in Airetusa; it’s estimated that he won’t emerge until the final form of that device is completed.
Thus, the village is missing someone who can take care of his warhorse.
"Rest assured, sir. I guarantee this horse will be fed better than I eat, and I won’t make it do heavy work—just modest exercise. I’d rather lose weight myself than let it suffer!"
The innkeeper was quite familiar with the demon hunter and his friends.
After all, the room that Margaret had booked back in the day still hasn’t used up its rent even now.
So, he casually draped an old, greasy towel over his shoulder and solemnly promised.
When Lann arrived at the dock of this small village, the local fishermen were eagerly awaiting, hoping he would take his boat away.
Having experienced two previous occasions, the fishermen well understood that once the cat-eyed man sailed away, he wouldn’t return for a month.
This time could be treated as a loss, and the man knew it himself, hence he generally opted to buy outright rather than pay the rental price.
If he found his own boat a bit old, or wanted a faster and steadier fishing boat, the money this man offered was like a godsend.
Today was no exception. The man simply wanted to set off quickly, and hardly haggled over the price at checkout.
This was even more generous than the previous two times, leading the fishermen to chat amongst themselves, believing the handsome man had stumbled upon a lucrative venture.
As Lann landed on Black Seagull Island, he saw the Lady of the Lake’s messenger, a nymph, awaiting him.
"You’re a bit late this time."
Grumbling as she did so, she and the disembarking Lann dragged the boat onto the sandy shore together.
Her unclad water-green body bounced at certain spots under the intense movement.
It was easy for Lann to grasp why, amidst the rural tales, farmers, despite their unusual disdain for non-human races, often had sturdy men entirely consumed by nymphs and water nymphs.
Men carried this mistaken belief that they could always benefit.
"Whew~ The lady asked me to wait for you here, follow me."
Lann was somewhat curious about what the lady’s messenger usually did.
After all, the last time he came here, Miss Nymph hadn’t shown herself; even the greetings with Lann were delivered by the lady herself.
In a human court, such a negligent servant would probably be punished.
"Below the lake, the home of the half-fishmen has been nearly destroyed by those deep divers."
Leading the way upfront as was customary, Miss Nymph flicked her waist-length green hair, exposing her gracefully curved back momentarily, and spoke plainly.
"Below the surface is where that thing wreaked the most havoc, and even now, the half-fishmen haven’t completed their rebuilding. I helped them earlier."
"That thing" refers to Da Gun.
Now Miss Nymph seemed to have dispelled her desire for Lann, or perhaps the arduous rebuilding of the underwater half-fishman kingdom was genuinely exhausting, so she didn’t entangle excessively with him.
Merely led him to the Divine Hall in the lake, then submerged into the water, disappearing without a trace.
Lann took out the conical crystal from his Alchemy Pouch and swept it over the marble beneath the lake’s surface.
The lake water seemed to sense something, waves and foam morphing into phrases—
"I’m still dealing with the aftermath, the rift is about to open."
"Tsk tsk..." Lann tucked the conical crystal back away, clicking his tongue.
"Looks like that lake god summoned through blood sacrifice truly filled her up, how many people died to produce such a thing? Was it a war?"
The blood sacrifice and war on the other side of the world couldn’t affect here, let alone disrupt the Conjunction of the Spheres’ rift caused by the surge of Chaos Magic Power.
The fissure, resembling a fractured mirror, once again rose from the lake waters.
With the Lady of the Lake’s restraint gone, the sound of space structure being shredded by Chaos Magic Power, a continuous "clacker clack," was unrelenting.
When it stopped before Lann, the flickering lights on the other side began to stabilize.
The demon hunter took a deep breath, calming the frantic beating of his two hearts in his chest.
The handprint on his left hand flashed briefly, and the golden Magic Shield enveloped his body.
The Turbulent Flow Greatsword was tucked into his Alchemy Pouch at the back waist. A weapon that emanated such savagery by its mere appearance would only invite trouble if it suddenly appeared in a peaceful zone.
However, the elf-crafted long blade, Aron Dite, hung at his waist as usual, because Lann wished to afford himself a measure of necessary yet moderate intimidation.
"Phew, old acquaintance, here we go."
The demon hunter murmured and stepped forward.
Yet the Conjunction of the Spheres rift, which he hailed as an ’old acquaintance,’ had no intention of showing him favor.
A deeply unfamiliar sensation emanated from his body.
A feeling starkly different from the previous two traverses of the Conjunction of the Spheres rift.
While the two prior sensations were intense, they amounted merely to brain dizziness and swelling pain.
Comparable to having Mentos perform a {Deep Memory Dive} whilst passing through a Warlock Teleportation Gate.
It was burdensome, but not to the point of causing Lann to completely lose consciousness.
Yet this time... woozy, head heavy, feet light, sporadic jolts, reflexive nerve twitches.
If forced to describe, it’s akin to the sensation of someone struggling with sleep, caught between the seams of wakefulness and slumber.
Unaware of how much time had passed, in the foggy consciousness, even the sense of time turned ambiguously blurred.
Eventually, with a sudden drop and reflexive twitch akin to falling in a dream, Lann sensed his feet landing firmly.
The vacant, unfocused cat eyes were dazzled by the light ahead, allowing them to refocus.
What greeted him was the glaring, blood-red sunset piercing through the seams of the towering Gothic spires.