But those that remained were either the stronger or more agile individuals. Or they were even more repulsive, massive, and unkillable deformed creatures, formed from the fused flesh and blood of the fish-men that had been blown apart earlier. They had grown stronger and more resilient, posing an ever-increasing threat.
As for the fish-men that Yennefer and the others had transformed into "goats" with their metamorphosis magic — they had been buried deep underground by Hen and Tissaia using their earth-manipulation magic, with only their sheep heads protruding from the ground, bleating incoherently but unable to break free. Initially, they had tried to kill the "goats," but discovered that the transformation spell immediately ceased upon the goat's death. The flesh and blood would recombine, forming even more dangerous mutants, leaving them with no choice but to temporarily imprison them rather than destroy them.
Meanwhile, the contingent of Knights of the White Lily brought by Foltest had been almost completely annihilated. More than half of the knights had either gone mad and attacked their own people, or had succumbed to the evil god's influence during battle. Their bodies then underwent horrific mutations, turning against their former comrades, joining the enemy ranks and attacking them. A significant portion had been torn apart and devoured by the incredibly powerful mutant fish-men in the fierce fighting. Their flesh and blood had fused with the fish-men, forming even more repulsive monstrosities.
On the surface of these fused horrors, the suffering faces of the Knights of the White Lily were faintly discernible. On these faces, a remnant of consciousness seemed to remain: mouths opening and closing silently, some muttering blasphemous words. Others had fallen into madness, desperately crying for help, their eyes filled with endless despair and insanity.
Even Geralt, accustomed to bloodshed and monsters, felt a chill run down his spine and became extremely unsettled after witnessing this scene. The few Knights of the White Lily who had managed to survive and retreat to the rear were clearly not in their right minds. They sat hunched in the distance, their faces twisted into either nervous grins or expressions of fear, their eyes vacant or filled with despair, talking to themselves and gesticulating wildly. As if communicating with some invisible entity, they had completely lost their combat capabilities and potentially represented a new hidden danger.
Triss, Yennefer, Margarita, and the others watched as the fierce battle continued. But in the eyes of Dalton, Geralt, and the knights in silver armour, fatigue was evident, alongside deep anxiety.
This won't do. The number of enemies is endless, and the more we fight them, the stronger they become — they can even fuse and evolve with each other. Their magical support is limited, and even offensive spells can accelerate this fusion. Meanwhile, the knights at the front are rapidly losing both physical and mental strength. If they continue to fight, even under Karl's protection, they will eventually be worn down and killed by this abominable wave.
Just as the situation seemed about to turn truly dire, another strange event occurred.
All the aberrations on the battlefield — whether fiercely attacking, transformation prisoners, or simply assembled from chunks of flesh — seemed to receive a simultaneous supreme command. Their movements froze in unison.
Then: "Thud! Thud! Baa..."
All the mutated fish-men, the fused monsters, and even the "goats" buried underground with only their heads visible — they all simultaneously, without warning, collapsed to the ground, as if they had completely run out of strength. From their wounds, and even from their pores, clouds of black mist began to seep and drift. Then they rapidly converged toward the centre of the frozen lake.
As the black mist left their bodies, the flesh and blood of these monsters rapidly withered and shrank at a visible speed. It was like a corpse left to bake under the scorching sun for several days, its skin tightly clinging to its bones. Soon, they had transformed into repulsive mummies, covered in scales or deformed tissues.
"Careful! Fall back! Stay away from these shrinking monsters!"
Geralt reacted first, his expression drastically changing as he shouted sternly. His instincts told him this did not bode well. Before he had even finished speaking, Dalton and the surrounding silver knights retreated without hesitation. The group kept their distance from the corpses of the monsters undergoing strange changes, warily watching this sudden turn of events.
At the same time, the battle situation at the centre of the frozen lake also changed due to the convergence of this immense power from countless allies.
"HISSS!!" Dagon let out a low hiss toward Karl, nothing like before — its voice was filled with anger and determination. On its newly regenerated body, much of the tissue had dissolved and disappeared in the fierce struggle between golden light and black mist. But it seemed utterly unconcerned. It coldly stared at Karl, the black mist around it almost completely dispersed. It surged with frenzied force into its body, moving from the lake's surface, from the air, and especially from the countless desiccated corpses on the shore.
Its aura began to rapidly rise and expand, emanating more chaotic and dangerous fluctuations than before. Simultaneously, the ice beneath its body began to rapidly crack and melt. The ice was once again turning into black lake water, and the area of melting expanded. The entire frozen lake surface began to tremble violently, emitting a rumbling sound, as if some enormous creature was being forcefully lifted from the depths.
Karl's gaze pierced the churning black lake water and the shattered ice, staring straight down to the bottom. He saw the obelisk, covered in unknown inscriptions, which Dagon was tearing from the silt at the lakebed and raising toward the surface.
"No..." Alarm bells rang in Karl's mind; he understood Dagon's intentions. Realising it could not quickly defeat him in direct combat, and sensing his concern for his comrades on the shore... Dagon had likely been driven to desperation by this man. Knowing it could do nothing to him personally, it was preparing for a desperate struggle, ready to overturn the table.
It was quite possible it wanted to detonate or harness the power of this obelisk. Or perhaps to merge with its power, triggering a widespread and devastatingly destructive spiritual plague. At that moment, not only he but also Triss, Geralt, and the others on the shore would suffer from the contamination's aftermath.
Karl's gaze sharpened, and without holding back, he unleashed a torrent of golden light that had been contained within him. Divine power surged from his body like a golden tide. Then, under his mental control, it rapidly condensed and took shape. In an instant, hundreds of spears appeared from nowhere — each several metres long, gleaming with golden light, created entirely from divine power.
They crashed down from the sky with a whistling sound: "FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH!!"
These powerful spears were not aimed at Dagon itself, but at the nodes on the ice surface where it stood. At the centre of this formation were three inner and three outer layers, forming a dense, ring-shaped blockade structure.
Seeing this, Dagon immediately activated the black mist that had just gathered around it, forming a constantly moving wall of mist around its body in preparation for the attack.