In the wilderness of Willon, the night falls.

The stars are sparse, and the dead trees sway in the wind, like ghosts in the dark night.

A crow screamed and soared into the air from the dilapidated street sign. The dust scattered, revealing the blurred text.

crossroads.

A torch was inserted into the crumbling fence on the roadside, illuminating a small area.

Geralt was half kneeling on the muddy and smelly ground.

Ogilde took half of the branch and wrote and painted on the ground in front of the witcher.

Soon, a five-pointed star magic circle formed on the mud, and Oujild lit a candle on each corner, and the faint flame swayed in the night wind.

After doing all this work, Ougeld patted Geralt on the shoulder and trotted to join the crowd not far away. The wind brought about almost blowing out the candles.

The white wolf turned around and looked over there, frowned helplessly.

At the call of Tris, everyone came to watch.

Yennefa, Trisse, Fringigera, Ada Emin.

That hateful elf Avarak didn't bother with the trouble.

Even the so-called "Shadow Elder" who had fought with Zach in Nifgaard City came.

The thin old man was silent and gloomy as always, still naked, but the rag that was originally around his waist disappeared, replaced by a relatively neat skirt.

A pair of orange-yellow eyes shone in the darkness, and seemed to be quite wary of what was about to happen.

The black-haired mage leaned against the fence not far away without his own business, waved his hand, and made a "go" gesture to himself.

The white wolf glared at him.

This is Zach's idea, but in the end he still has to do it himself.

When he was an agent, he fulfilled Oujild's three wishes. Just when Master Mirror wanted to take Oujild's soul as agreed, the white wolf, who had long been unable to stand up to what Master Mirror did, decided to make a move.

He bet his soul up and bet with Master Mirror.

In the end, he won without any danger.

He not only saved Ogilde, but also exiled Master Mirror from this world.

According to the black-haired mage, he was the last person to win the Mirror Master and the one who eventually exiled him from this world, so this ceremony can only be carried out by him.

Although he was half-believing and half-doubted, he accepted the job.

Geralt took a long breath and began to recite the mantra taught him by Oujild:

“Oudoianu    feus!    Soba     camisa    iada!Soba    camisa    aberaasas!”

As the spell was finished, the night wind blew, and it seemed much colder than it had just happened.

There seemed to be a rustling whisper in my ears.

Click!

A strange sound came.

Geralt looked in the sound and saw that the already shaky signpost had broken on the ground.

He looked around, but after waiting for a long time, nothing happened.

Only one moth appeared around the torch at some point, flying around as if it was lost.

After calming down, he recited the mantra again.

“Oudoianu    feus...Soba    camisa    iada...Soba    camisa    aberaasas.”

Or nothing happened.

After a long time, Bai Lang let out a breath and stood up, shook the mud on his legs, and turned around and spread his hands to everyone not far away.

"Ogilde, you've sure you remembered the spell right..."

However, his companions were not watching him.

Instead, they were all staring straight behind them.

Bailang narrowed his eyes: "What are you looking at..."

Only halfway through his words, a faint whistle suddenly sounded from behind him.

The tune is gentle and weird, as if it is there or not.

It seems to be right behind the ears, but far away in the sky.

Geralt's hair stood upside down.

The witch hunter instinctively touched the hilt of the sword behind him, but stopped halfway.

A hand had fallen on his shoulder.

"Ah... Geralt..." A low and playful voice came from behind:

"haven't seen you for a long time."

The white wolf suddenly turned around, and the figure in the nightmare was already standing beside him at some point.

That was a middle-aged man.

He had messy stubble on his face, rough skin, and his cyan scalp was shaved cleanly.

He was wearing a faded yellow burlap jacket with a heavily worn debris bag hanging around his waist.

He has a medium figure and an ordinary appearance. If he is mixed in the crowd, no one will take a look at him.

But at this moment Geralt felt like a great enemy.

His muscles were tight and his pupils shrank into a thin slit like cat's eyes:

"Gonte Odim..."

Although he was already in a cold sweat, the witch hunter's poisonous tongue still refused to give in:

"The last time you said goodbye, your face was not so friendly."

"My agent..." The bald man's chapped lips with a smile, as if he didn't care about the sarcasm of the witch hunter:

"You ask me to come, it's not just to reminisce about the past..." He held his palms and looked humbly at the people not far away: "After all, you have brought so many friends."

The man's eyes slowly fell on the shadow elder: "And... there is also an old acquaintance of mine..."

"Sure enough... it's you..." The Shadow Elder's voice was low and hoarse, and his eyes were staring at the unpretentious bald man.

This unexpected conversation stunned everyone.

Even Zach picked up his arms and looked at everything in front of him with interest.

The vampire's old face gradually became ferocious:

"I... will never forget...your face..."

He walked slowly towards the inconspicuous man, his nails continued to grow, and his thin barefoot left a series of deformed footprints on the muddy ground: "You... deceived us..."

Before he finished speaking, the shadow elder disappeared from the spot.

Before everyone could react, the shadow elder suddenly appeared behind the man, and his sharp claws had pierced into the unprepared body, as if he was about to take out a bloody heart in the next second.

Everyone was stunned for a moment.

However, the man still stood there with that humble smile on his face.

Just the next moment, the white light exploded, and the shadow elder was pushed out by an invisible force, and flew into a red mist in the air.

The red mist gathered again in the air, as if it was about to turn back into a human form, but it spread out and turned into a pool of rotten meat in the moment it landed.

The minced meat kept wriggling, and a bloody pool seemed to appear on the muddy ground. A red arm sometimes stretched out inside, and sometimes condensed into a blurred head, constantly making twisted and harsh screams, as if trapping a person about to drown.

However, no matter how hard the rotten meat keeps turning, it cannot be transformed into a human form.

"I didn't expect to meet a shadow elder here..."

The man bent his legs and bowed to the pile of rotten meat and performed a standard vampire etiquette. It was like a humble and low-level vampire meeting the high king:

"I am very honored to have a deal with the nobles, but the contract has been established and I will not regret it."

He slowly straightened up, but there was no scar in the part that was penetrated by the shadow elder, as if the claws had just penetrated the invisible air.

For a moment everyone was silent.

The intersection at midnight fell into silence, leaving only the intermittent cries of insects in the grass and the faint screams from the pile of minced meat.

The man looked at the witch hunter: "I am deeply sorry for the accident just now... So, Geralt...why did you call me?"

The white wolf looked at the squirming meat next to him, glanced at Zach not far away, and slowly spoke: "Not..."

But the bald man suddenly raised his hand and interrupted the witch hunter: "Shh, wait for a moment..."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he was enjoying the real world he was in: "You know, what we separated last time...what isn't pleasant..."

The man opened his eyes, still smiling on his face, but his tone seemed a little heavier: "So this time, you have to be more cautious..."
To be continued...