Within the bizarre, fluorescent garden, a translucent, screaming, evil spirit was held in the air by a sea of tentacles. The tentacles unleashed crimson beams, scorching the spirit like acid, and black smoke billowed.

The spirit's face was contorted in pain, blinking like malfunctioning lamps. Sometimes it would morph into an even more bizarre visage. The face had no mouth or nose, and its eyes were filled with cunning and evil, much like a demon.

The witchers tried to attack it with their blades and weapons. Their attacks engulfed it, and yet they passed through it, hitting nothing but air. This thing was untouchable, much like a phantom. Roy's tentacles flailed and tore away at the spirit, but it couldn't destroy it.

'Spirit of repentance

Age: ?

Status: The fusion of datt and the grandmaster of genetic modification, Ortolan.'

***

Roy paused for a moment. Ortolan the sorcerer. The man who married someone in Hindarsfjall. He, in a bid to save his wife and child, turned his body into a cage and imprisoned an evil spirit called datt. From the crystal's footage, Roy saw that he came seeking sanctuary from Idarran. He sought true destruction of his body, mind, and soul. So how did he end up like this?

The effects of Fear came to an end. The tentacles slithered away like water going back into the sea. The evil spirit screeched and disappeared into the air, hiding somewhere.

***

"How do you feel, Vesemir?"

The tormented witcher took a deep breath, and his chest ballooned, then it fell back. "Damn it all. I never knew I made so many unforgivable mistakes." He looked at everyone and laughed at himself, his wrinkles loosening up, but he was still drenched in sweat and shuddering from the experience. "My insides felt so guilty, they started destroying themselves."

With a trembling hand, he wiped the blood off and grabbed the hand that was about to hold his teleportation crystal. "Things aren't that desperate yet, Geralt. This is a minor injury. I can still hold on."

Geralt sighed, and Lambert shook his head. "You're acting tough, old man. Your legs are shaking like you just came out of messing with a woman for three days."

"Then it's all fine. I can last five days at least." Vesemir popped open a bottle of Swallow and gulped it down. Color returned to his face. He then pushed everyone's hands away and stood up, wobbling a little. The veteran witcher worked his limbs, and his joints cracked.

Everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief. Letho and Kiyan quickly circled their comrades. They gestured and chanted, then a circle made of specter dust and infused dust appeared on the ground, shining like a sacred shield, keeping the group safe.

"Brilliant performance, but it's not enough. The spirit is still around you, seeking its next target," the voice spoke.

"You're not bad yourself, controlling an evil spirit. Those are the deadliest and most mysterious beings. It felt a lot stronger than any hym," Kalkstein praised, stroking his beard, and he looked around.

"And you exceeded my expectations." There was surprise and wariness in the voice. "A mere witcher, injuring a formless spirit. It's one of my most prized creations."

A pause later, the voice lamented, "That flash of light must've been the ability given to you by the shard, Roy. It's just like a double-edged sword."

Roy scanned the air beyond the circle, trying to catch the spirit's trails, but it was formless and couldn't be tracked. "Did your experiments kill off your humanity, Idarran? I thought you'd free Ortolan of his misery and blast him off with your red light, but you captured your best friend and turned him into a monster. You kept him caged in this blasted form and bound him to his personal hell."

"Hm?" From within the darkness that disgusted Roy, the voice said, "You know a lot, kid."

Roy mocked, "The grandmasters and your mentor cleansed Mayena of its sins with the flames of the red light. They should've cleansed you too, you disgusting, perverted freak. Oh wait, don't tell me the justice they seek is nothing but a mask?"

"Silence! Do not insult my teacher! You know nothing!" The voice turned furious and adamant. "The highest honor for a grandmaster of genetic modification is to be as one with their creation. All I did was grant Ortolan his wish. And it's two birds with one stone. His wish was granted, and his family is no longer disturbed. They can live their lives out as normal humans."

"Bullshit," Auckes retorted sardonically.

"Suit yourself. Now enjoy the show, fools. You shall pay for your choice."142.93.60.102

"Shut it, you pervert!" Coral roared in fury and pointed at the darkness in the depths of the garden. As she chanted her spell, the air started vibrating, and the scent of ozone rose.

Roy roared in rage, blood spilling out of his eyes, and a stream of crimson flames surged around him. A crimson tentacle tore the space behind him open and came wriggling out, flailing in the air. Countless tentacles danced on the walls, and something shattered. Roy broke free of his bondage. His face was red, his veins contorted and bulging. Behind the crimson tentacle, a river filled with light appeared. It was the stars that shone brightly above. A river of stars. Every star represented a point in time.

Roy's Elder Blood raced within his veins, and the silver river flowed backward. Starlight shone upon the dead witchers. Like puppets pulled by strings, the bodies of the witchers, astoundingly, stood back up, but their arms were limp. The blood, flesh, bones flew back to the bodies, forming their skulls. In what felt like an eternity, the witchers' heads were reformed. Three souls that gleamed with mysterious lights were chased back from the corners and returned to their rightful bodies.

The witchers opened their eyes, but there was confusion in them. This change, although complicated, happened in less than a fraction of a second.

***

Idarran couldn't make his third wish in time.

***

Fear. Crimson light danced around Roy. The dancing tentacles appeared in the air, wrapping up the spirit before it could attack. They pulled on the spirit and tore it. Then they did it again. After the third tear, the spirit couldn't stay corporeal anymore. It was torn into little pieces and scattered across the air. The tentacles' suckers wolfed down the spirit's shards, gobbling them up.

A man in his forties in a grey, scholarly robe appeared in the air behind them. He had short, gold hair, and his eyes twinkled with wisdom. A well-kept mustache surrounded the man's lips. He looked like a gentlemanly professor from afar. The man bowed deeply at Roy. There was relief in his eyes.

And Ortolan's soul was no more.

'Spirit of repentance engulfed. +1000 EXP. Level 13 Witcher (19000/14500).'

***

The hidden Idarran couldn't bask in the awe of Roy reviving the dead and killing the evil spirit all at once. He quickly shot his third word at the bound witchers.

"Ver (Shapeshift)!"

As soon as he finished uttering the word, the djinn swiped its claws at the group once more, and magic boiled in the air.

A bolt hurtled across the battlefield. Roy teleported toward the djinn. It felt like he'd entered a field filled with storms. The young witcher brought Aerondight down and sent a crimson energy beam ahead.

The witcher's interference stopped the djinn's casting, and it quickly defended itself. A web of lightning bolts burst forth from its ethereal form and cut down the energy beam, then it covered the witcher.

Electricity sizzled. Heliotrop absorbed some of the lightning, but most charged into Roy's body, and his hair stood on end. His face was charred from the attack, but there was still determination in his eyes.

Activate.

A wave of magical energy healed his charred body back to its best form. Roy's Elder Blood raged once more, and a gash tore the air open. A diamond-shaped Worldgate appeared behind the djinn.

Roy swung his blade. A black dragon appeared behind the witcher, glaring at the djinn. As Roy swung his blade, the dragon swiped its claw away at the djinn and smacked it.

Winds howled. The air was screaming from the force of the attack. Even the djinn, that was immune to most physical attacks, floated backward and entered the Worldgate.

The ghost of its last lightning bolt flickered in the air and faded along with it.

The witchers and sorcerers trembled, then they heaved a collective sigh of relief. They'd regained their freedom.

"Where's my third wish? What'd you do to the djinn, kid?" Idarran demanded furiously, shivering in rage. "Why can't I sense it anymore? You're all going to die!"

The flesh-like chamber rumbled. The creature had awoken.

***

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