Chapter 8: Hunting the Griffin
Just seconds after Kolgrim's warning, a vast shadow fell over the wheat field.
The lamb, which had been on the verge of dozing off, suddenly woke up, desperately scrambling its four short hooves, trying to escape the zone of death.
But the bait was coated with the scent of meat, making it stand out in the field like a torch in the deep night.
The griffin plummeted like a boulder. The lamb's startled bleat was instantly muffled.
The lamb's spine snapped under the griffin's foreclaws, and its tender chest proved as fragile as butter before the creature's hook-like beak.
The griffin began to enjoy its meal.
So far, the hunt was proceeding more smoothly than planned; the griffin hadn't even carried its prey back to the nest. All they had to do now was remain silent and wait for the Hybrid Oil in the mutton to take effect.
But they waited for a long time, and the griffin's tearing motions remained vigorous, showing no signs of drowsiness whatsoever.
What the hell is going on?
Compared to Arthur, who hadn't yet realized the seriousness of the problem, Miloslav was far more anxious. He kept glancing at Kolgrim, and large beads of sweat began to break out on his forehead.
Kolgrim placed one hand on the hunter's shoulder as a gesture of reassurance, while cautiously craning his neck to look at the griffin.
After observing for a moment, Kolgrim drew back and signaled with his hands for the two men to look into his eyes.
Arthur obediently turned his head. The moment his gaze met Kolgrim's, the sensation of flying insects appeared again.
This time, it was by his ear.
Why did Kolgrim cast a Sign on me? What is he trying to do?
Arthur looked curiously at Kolgrim, only to see a pair of equally perplexed eyes. The Witcher didn't seem to understand why his Sign had failed to work.
Perhaps something went wrong, Arthur thought, and he sat back down as Kolgrim instructed with a gesture.
But before he could settle, he heard Miloslav suddenly growl:
"No! I can't wait! I won't let Lenna wait to die in that place!"
He sprang to his feet, drew his yew longbow to a full moon, and shot an arrow at the griffin!
The situation had developed into the most dangerous scenario possible!
Arthur tried to get up, but the Witcher instantly slammed him back down:
"You stay put! Leave this to me!"
Kolgrim rushed out almost trailing the arrow's flight path, his momentum so great he seemed entirely unlike a member of a School famed for assassination.
Miloslav's archery was good, hitting the griffin squarely at the base of its left wing. This prevented the griffin from escaping into the air, but it also pushed everyone to the brink.
They now had only two options: kill the griffin, or die here together.
Miloslav drew a second arrow from his quiver, but dropped it before notching the string Kolgrim was already entangled with the griffin, and a forced shot risked a friendly-fire injury.
The griffin flapped its wings and lashed out with its claws, launching a series of fierce and swift attacks, but it couldn't touch the Witcher, whose speed was astonishing after having drunk his potion beforehand.
Instead, the griffin's wing, during one powerful swing, met the Witcher's silver blade and dagger, leaving two deep cuts.
The Hybrid Oil coating the silver sword blade seeped into the bloodstream, climbing toward the heart and brain. If internal consumption failed, then external application would have to suffice!
Gazing at the horrifying fight ahead, Miloslav gritted his teeth and moved forward. If shooting from afar risked missing, then standing closer wouldn't!
Swoosh! Another arrow flew ferociously toward the griffin, but it met a wildly flapping wing and glanced off, flying into the sky.
Miloslav prepared to shoot a third arrow, but the griffin, caught between the twin assaults of pain and drowsiness, sensed mortal danger.
It ignored the hunter, who was nearly within reach, and furiously chased after Kolgrim, biting and clawing until the Witcher was forced to retreat for a moment.
Then, the griffin, easily the height of two men, threw its head back and opened its hook-like beak skyward.
"Shit! Get down!"
Kolgrim roared, quickly casting a Sign to envelop himself in a pale yellow shield before rolling away. Miloslav spun to flee, but it was already too late.
A piercing eagle shriek exploded in mid-air, its volume so massive that translucent ripples seemed to appear in the very air.
Kolgrim's shield burst with a soft 'snap.' The Witcher frantically covered his ears, rolling away without stopping.
Miloslav fared worse. Before he could even cover his ears, the shriek hit him full-force.
The hunter froze instantly, blood oozing from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. He collapsed like a sack of mud.
Fuck! Even if Arthur were slow-witted, he knew disaster had struck.
Seeing the griffin lunge for the hunter, he threw caution to the wind, grabbing the hand-and-a-half sword he had drawn earlier and charging forward.
Strangely, as he ran toward Miloslav, he felt the blood in his body practically boil; but the moment he stepped over the hunter's limp form and met the griffin's vertical pupils, that boiling blood instantly froze.
They were the eyes of a predator: indifferent, emotionless, seeing everything as nothing more than moving fresh meat.
He stood rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle.
The griffin flapped a wing, slamming it down upon this suicidal insect.
CRACK! A massive force hit Arthur before the griffin could, and in his rapidly retreating vision, Arthur saw Kolgrim's left hand forming an unfamiliar Sign.
The Witcher's leg is proving to be a bit too sturdy a support, perhaps…
Before the fleeting thought of luck could fade from his mind, he saw a hint of a human-like emotion flash in the griffin's eyes.
It looked like… satisfaction?
The griffin suddenly spun around, effortlessly transforming its downward slam into a lateral sweep, aiming straight for Kolgrim!
The beast's target had never been the hunter or Arthur it was the Witcher, the one foe it couldn't catch! Only the Witcher was the true threat to its safety!
The move was too abrupt. Kolgrim had no time to evade, and the massive wing filled his vision.
He had just used an Aard blast to save Arthur and couldn't cast another Sign immediately. He frantically crossed his dagger and silver sword over his chest, trying to lessen the impact that was about to hit him.
The next second, the Witcher vanished from the spot.
A violent shudder in the distant wheat confirmed Kolgrim's landing spot.
The Witcher lay face-down in the field, his right leg twisted at an unnatural angle, and his silver sword was bent and crooked beside him.
The griffin let out a triumphant shriek, first decisively crushing the silver sword, then raising its taloned foot to stomp on the Witcher.
Even though Kolgrim was beaten senseless, and even though its own steps were already beginning to falter from the Hybrid Oil, the beast still perceived the Witcher's threat as greater than that of the two other humans.
It was terribly wrong.
Arthur roared, clutching the iron sword Kolgrim had given him, and leaped onto the griffin's back.
He held onto the griffin's feathers with one hand to maintain balance, while the other stabbed for the back of its skull, seeking an opening. Kolgrim had told him that there was a small gap behind the griffin's skull stab that spot, and even a wooden stick could prove fatal!
But hitting that small hole on the back of a bucking, flapping griffin was easier said than done. He stabbed three times, but only succeeded in drawing blood down the beast's face, failing to inflict a lethal wound. The blood soaked the griffin's neck-hide, making it increasingly slippery. He was losing his grip.
"Stay still and hold still, you bastard!"
Seeing the griffin now towering over Kolgrim, Arthur's sheer battle-lust finally overcame his fear.
A faint blue ripple spread outwards. The griffin flinched, instinctively tucking its neck in.
Arthur seized the momentary opportunity, driving the hand-and-a-half sword into the crevice at the back of its skull.
The mountain-like griffin crashed down, kicking up a huge cloud of dust that nearly buried Kolgrim.
Arthur gasped, slumping onto the griffin's neck. He should cut the head off now, but he was too exhausted to even twitch a finger.
Yet, at the same time, he felt an inexhaustible torrent of energy pouring into him.
From Kolgrim's perspective, a glowing storm was erupting from the griffin's body, rushing to converge into Arthur.
Amidst the flow of light that almost obscured his vision, the familiar script changed colors:
[Inspirational Event: Defiance of the Mighty Foe]
[Affinity has been increased to 60/100]
[Acquired Specialty: Brutal Brawler]
[You can tell at a glance where others are injured]
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