Once the drowners were dealt with, the witchers weaved through the fog and wetlands before arriving at a cave. Roy suddenly stared into the fog and listened closely.
"What are you doing, kid?"
"This is the perfect habitat for monsters like foglets. They usually disguise themselves as hapless kids to lure their prey in."
"You're imaginative, but no foglets for you today." Lambert stood before the dark entrance solemnly and handed Roy a decoction. "But there's something more dangerous. Wanna see? But take a dose of Cat and keep your eyes open."
The witchers uncorked their decoctions and downed them, and then black veins crept up on their faces.
"Listen closely. Once we get in there, follow me closely, and don't do anything stupid. Don't wake the big guy up."
"What big guy?" Roy feigned ignorance and stared into the cave. There was a cold sensation coming from within, not unlike a great beast's breathing. The gust of wind made his skin crawl.
"A cyclops that goes by the name Old Speartip." Lambert's eyes narrowed in hatred. "This has been its home for more than a century now. It's one of the trials for the Wolf's insignia."
Roy asked, "So that guy is the one who tore your friend in half?"
Lambert's eyes became bloodshot, and cold fury crept up his face. His fists clenched one moment and loosened the next.
Roy noticed his trembling fingers. Is it fear or excitement? "It's been a long time since Kaer Morhen took in new apprentices. There's no need for the trialmaster to remain. Why didn't you call Geralt or Vesemir to get rid of Old Speartip and avenge the apprentices it killed?"
"You have no idea how powerful that monster is, kid. Do you think I don't want it killed? But there's a reason it's called Ogrekiller! And it's at least as powerful as a Dragonslayer! There's a nursery rhyme in Kaer Morhen that goes like this…" Lambert hissed in a quiet voice, "Old Speartip is a deep sleeper, wake him up and you'll sleep deeper. We can't suffer any more casualties!"
Roy stared at the guy. He's dishonest too. Says he hates Kaer Morhen and Vesemir, but he still thinks about them. "What if we stab his eye in his sleep?"
"He's not gonna be blinded even if you take out his whole eyeball. And you won't get to his dried-up brain either. One finger and we're mincemeat! So drop all stupid ideas and don't wake him up!"
Roy said nothing more.
***
Into the cave the witchers went, and Roy scanned the place. The cave was bigger than he thought. The stalactite-covered roof was ten meters away from the ground, giving the cyclops enough space to move.
Through his witcher senses, Roy saw grey ribbons lingering around the gigantic footprints on the ground and the plants around the cave before they traveled deeper into the cave.
Roy was walking on his tiptoe like a cat. Slowly, he went forward while leaning against the cold, hard walls. He thought he was slow enough, but Lambert was slower. "Can you pick up the pace? And stop your hands from shaking."
"What do you know? Going slow is better than being dead!"
It was a two-hundred-yard journey, but it took the witchers ten minutes to finish. They didn't even use Aard to make the path smoother lest Old Speartip wake up. Instead, they climbed.
The deeper they went, the worse the stench of the air was. It felt like something poisonous was hanging around them. Eventually, they reached a point where they froze up and held their breath.
A thunderous snore ripped through the cave, and they were greeted by a humanoid creature the size of a small hill. It was lying on the ground, its chest heaving, its eyes closed. The creature was seemingly dreaming. It measured about thirteen feet tall, and its skin was as white as a corpse. Hanging around its gigantic head was a black sack with a hole in the middle. A big, closed eye was shown through that hole, and the creature wasn't wearing anything to cover its upper body. Only a pair of long, black, greasy, and tattered pants were covering its lower body.
Even though the creature was humongous, it didn't look bloated or fat. Its arms, chest, and shoulder seemed to be made out of nothing but mountains of muscle. If Roy didn't know better, he would have thought this creature was an enlarged bodybuilder. Its hands were big enough to hold an adult man in it and crush the mountain walls with ease.
'Cyclops
Age: 220 years old
Gender: Male
HP: ?
Strength: ?
Dexterity: 15
Constitution: ?
Perception: 4
Will: 5
Charisma: 4
Spirit: 5
Skills:
Ogroid (Passive): Ogroids possess far superior life force compared to regular creatures. +20 to Constitution. Its thick hide increases its resistance against physical attacks and heals minor wounds quickly.
Gaia's Strength (Passive): Cyclops are connected to the earth by a mysterious bond. They can strengthen themselves with the land itself. Whenever it steps on the earth, cyclops gain immeasurable strength. +20 to Strength.'
***
Roy was hiding behind a stone pillar, pinching his nose. Sweat was starting to wet his palms. The cyclops was far more terrifying than he thought. It had immense strength, impenetrable defenses, and decent speed.
Roy had to give up on his plan. Even if they got everyone from Kaer Morhen here, it was still uncertain if they could kill the cyclops without sustaining any injury. Blinking around and kiting it would only end up exhausting Roy's mana without causing any significant damage, but if the cyclops managed to land a hit, it would kill Roy easily, even if he was wearing a full set of steel armor.
"The big guy has a weakness. It's even less resistant to poison than drowners, and that's what Vipers do best." Lambert turned around and noticed the sweat on Roy's forehead, and his eyes glinted smugly. That'll teach you not to laugh at me. You're not that much better off.
He pointed his chin at the space beside the cyclops, telling Roy they had to move there.
Fortunately, Old Speartip was fast asleep in the center, leaving enough space for them to scurry past in silence. They quickly zipped past the clearing and wriggled into the passage like mice who just saw a cat.
And then, fresh air. The witchers bent over and breathed heavily. Roy just noticed Old Speartip's other special ability. "Do all cyclops smell that bad, Lambert?"
Roy almost fainted from the body odor when they went by the sleeping monster. Unlike most beasts or monsters, Old Speartip's odor seemed to have a life of its own. It spread through the air and wriggled around in the noses of everyone who smelled it.
It wasn't rotten or fishy, but the pungent smell could kill anyone who was caught unaware. Roy felt blood accumulating in his nose, and he lost five HP just from the journey alone. He's a walking damage-over-time monster.
"That's all it took to make you whine?" Lambert rolled his eyes. "You haven't smelled his shite yet. That's a literal bioweapon."
"Keeping him around is a disaster." Roy looked around. He has a weakness I can exploit. Roy thumped his chest and guaranteed. "I'll deal with this bastard before I leave Kaer Morhen. We'll avenge the Wolves it killed."
Lambert scoffed, "You can talk about that after you defeat me."
***
***
