Chapter 76: Dragon Shout Unlocked
As the freezing blast howled past him, Arthur instinctively raised his arm to shield his face.
Initially, he didn't feel much, just a particularly strong wind. But two or three seconds later, his arm began to stiffen, followed by his neck, torso, and legs. His entire body felt as if it were encased in countless iron bands, unable to move.
The scene before his eyes became distorted and blurry, occasionally veiled in mist. A moment later, he realized: he was frozen inside a shell of ice!
What a devastating Northern Wind bomb!
But… it feels incredible! Since arriving in this world, Arthur had never experienced this level of comfort. From head to toe, every pore relaxed and opened. Even the spaces between his bones felt saturated with languor.
Crack… crackle…
Cracks raced frantically across the ice shell. A few seconds later, amidst a shower of ice chips, the familiar text reappeared:
[You feel refreshed; the rate of skill proficiency gain is significantly increased.]
Tsk, this bonus is even better than the one I got after waking up at Triss's place.
Arthur stretched comfortably, finding that the explosion radius of the Northern Wind was still a world of ice and snow. The troll at the epicenter of the blast had become a large ice sculpture, still holding the posture of reaching out to grab air. The giant centipede lay motionless on the ground, half its body covered in a layer of white frost.
"Zoltan! Kolgrim! Are you two alright?"
Arthur wasn't too worried about Kolgrim. Although the power of this vial of Northern Wind was somewhat absurd, since the Witcher carried it, he must have defensive measures.
"I'm fine!" Sure enough, with a flurry of motion from the giant centipede's legs, Kolgrim crawled out from beneath it. The Witcher calmly pulled out a dagger and began cutting into the monster's thick chitinous armor: "The Northern Wind wasn't wasted. This monster's gone into hibernation."
For some reason, Arthur thought he detected a hint of bitterness in Kolgrim's tone.
But now was not the time to ponder that. Since no sound had come from behind the bushes, Arthur's heart began to pound. As a Dwarf, Zoltan was stocky, but even he couldn't be more cold-resistant than a troll.
The bushes were frozen solid, turning into countless fragments with a slight touch. The Dwarf was crouched on the ground, shivering violently, covered in a thick layer of frost and snow.
"Zoltan, are you alright?" Seeing the Dwarf wasn't entirely frozen, Arthur relaxed slightly. He extruded a weak flame onto his palm, preparing to melt the frost on the Dwarf.
Sensing the approaching heat, Zoltan snapped awake: "Is it over? [Dwarf curse] That's cold!" He didn't wait for Arthur's flame to get close, raising his large hands to vigorously rub his face, shaking off the mix of black and white frost.
"Zoltan, your…" When the Dwarf finally stopped moving, Arthur couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"What? Did I miss a spot?" Zoltan ran his hands over his head again, then his face suddenly turned pale. He held his hands out in front of him. On the rough palms were not just ice and snow, but also brittle, frozen hair—not just head hair, but also bits of beard and eyebrows.
"My beard!" Zoltan let out a wail, angrily shouting at Kolgrim: "What kind of damn junk do you keep in that pouch? It froze off my beard!"
Kolgrim, who was busy pouring Insectoid Oil into the cut on the centipede's flank, retorted with an annoyed expression: "Who told you to grab random things? I swear! I told you it was the yellow vial, yet you managed to pull out the only blue vial in the entire pouch!"
"I grabbed the yellow one!" Zoltan insisted vehemently.
Arthur didn't get involved in the argument, which seemed to be caused by color blindness. While Zoltan's safety was a relief, it was also a warning: if the Dwarf could withstand it, the larger troll might not be frozen to death, either.
In fact, when he turned back to the troll, cracks were already appearing on its thick ice shell.
If left alone, the troll would have completely freed itself in just a few minutes.
But now, it wouldn't get the chance. Arthur raised his right hand, mentally recalling the contents of the Book of Illusions. Gradually, electrical light began to wrap around his five fingers, as if he were wearing a glove woven from electric arcs.
Cantrip: Electric Claw!
Under the supply of hyper-charged magical energy, this cantrip gained power it shouldn't have possessed.
The electric arc leaping from his fingertip easily tore open a hole in the ice shell. Arthur calmly extended his hand and firmly slapped the troll's chest.
"Augh!"
The troll only managed to let out a short, sharp scream before its nervous system was destroyed by the surging electrical current. It now looked like an oversized lightbulb, its entire skeletal structure glowing.
The stream of light appeared again. Arthur looked at the text floating mid-air, filled with excitement:
[Compatibility Increased: 30/100]
[Unyielding Force: 100/100, Current Status: Unlocked]
"Hoo-ho-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Arthur threw back his head and laughed loudly. It was done! It was finally done! Even if he died right now, he'd be nothing less than a Lord of the Ghoul Calamity!
"What are you laughing about?" A slightly cool female voice sounded from behind. Arthur turned around. Red Kite was standing quietly by the tree trunk, having watched for an unknown amount of time.
"Nothing. I just remembered something happy." Arthur was in such good spirits now that he would cheerfully accept anything, be it a few cold remarks or even some flirtation with Toruviel.
He looked at Red Kite for a few moments and suddenly noticed something odd about her stance: "What's wrong with your leg?"
"Mind your own business!" Red Kite angrily backed away half a step, but immediately grimaced.
"What's wrong with your leg?!" Arthur lightly stepped over the still-frosted grass and rushed to support Red Kite. Her right leg was angled awkwardly. No wonder she couldn't help but frown.
"It's nothing, just dislocated," Arthur reassured, running his hands around her knee: "Bear with it, this might hurt a little…"
"Ah!"
As Arthur exerted sudden force with both hands, Red Kite's knee let out a soft 'click,' locking back into place.
"It's fine now. Just don't put any strain on that leg for a few days. Hmm, we have space in the wagon, you can sit there." Arthur massaged her knee with his palm to help ease the soreness, then asked out of curiosity: "Speaking of which, how did you manage to fall and hurt yourself like that?"
This seemed to strike a nerve. Red Kite's previously relaxed brow furrowed sharply. She slapped Arthur's hand away and pointed toward the giant centipede:
"Instead of standing around, worry about your friends! They're in trouble!"
Arthur looked up. Good heavens, the giant centipede that was half-dead moments ago was now thrashing wildly in place like a spastic patient on drugs. Thankfully, its movements were completely illogical, allowing Kolgrim and Zoltan to duck and weave and escape the immediate danger zone.
"What in the hell is going on?" Arthur asked curiously.
"Hah, the thing's too big; the potion dosage wasn't enough!" Kolgrim explained: "But it's not a problem. This thing can't chase us now, so it's fine to leave it alone."
Arthur put one hand on his hip and shook his head: "That won't do! As a Knight of Temeria, I have a responsibility to help my dryad friends maintain the peace of the forest! Watch this!"
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