Chapter 293: Treat Your Weapons Like Lovers
Noticing the awkwardness among the others, Lynn spoke up to break the silence.
"By the way, if I weren't here, how were you planning to deal with the specters?"
As if to make up for his earlier impertinence, the youngest of the group, Bjorn, beat his chest and shouted. "With courage, our ancestors' strength, and the protection of the goddess Freya!"
Lynn sighed, exasperated. "None of those things can kill a specter or protect you. You need this."
With that, he pulled several bottles from his enchanted leather satchel and set them on the ground.
"Normal steel weapons are useless against specters. This is Specter Oil. If you coat your weapons with it, you can harm them. Silver can also be used to fight specters, like my own silver sword."
He drew his Grandmaster silver sword, holding it level and flat, his left hand supporting the side of the blade for them to see.
In the firelight, the sword gleamed with a cold light, and just looking at it gave a palpable sense of its razor-sharp edge. A warrior's weapon is their second life, and anyone who lives by battle loves their weapon more than anything.
Including Madman Lugo, everyone watched with an envious gaze.
After a moment, Lynn sheathed his silver sword and continued.
"But Specter Oil and silver are only effective against the lowest-level specters. Higher wraiths can turn into a blurred, ethereal mist. Only special Signs and magic can force them into a physical form."
"So, if you encounter a high-level wraith, you must not fight it. You must return to my side as quickly as possible."
The group was completely enlightened that night. Their previous knowledge of specters was based entirely on unfounded rumors and hearsay. There were all kinds of fantastical tales, and even more ways to supposedly destroy them. It was only today that they finally learned the real countermeasures.
Their faces were a mixture of joy and gratitude. After all, without a Witcher, if they had foolishly charged in, they would have had a one-in-a-thousand chance of survival.
Madman Lugo spoke with sincere appreciation. "It must have been Freya who sent you to us, Master Lynn. We owe you a great debt."
Lynn smiled. "Let's save the thanks for when we all get back alive."
...
As they were to enter the Haunted Castle the next day to fight, the group ate their fill and went to bed early to conserve their strength. Lynn volunteered to take the night watch.
A Witcher could meditate in place of sleep. Even without a full night's rest, it would have no effect on his body or mind.
So it was, a silent night passed.
The next morning, the others gradually woke up. After eating, they were about to set off, but Lynn stopped them.
This wasn't a horror film. Wouldn't it be better to go during the hottest part of the day, when the sun was strongest? Since there were still a few hours until noon, Lynn decided to catch up on some sleep.
By noon, the scorching sun was directly overhead, making everyone hot and uncomfortable. It was then that the group slowly started making their way up the mountain toward the Haunted Castle.
In truth, there was no universal rule that all specters feared sunlight. There were even "noonwraiths," a type of specter that was at its strongest in the midday sun. However, Lynn had made some observations the day before and found that the specters haunting the castle were not noonwraiths, which was why he had deliberately chosen to lead the others at the sun's fiercest point. Noon would, to a certain extent, weaken any specter other than a noonwraith.
The towering castle stood on a hillside, having endured centuries of decay. The once-imposing walls were now crumbling and broken, with scattered stones littering the ground. The training grounds in the courtyard, once echoing with the clatter of armor and the neighing of warhorses, were now silent, save for the howling of a cold wind, with thick cobwebs and scattered autumn leaves everywhere. From the precarious towers, birds cried out, and a raven or two could occasionally be seen circling above. The broken windowpanes caught the weak sunlight, bringing a hint of desolate beauty to the ruins.
The history of the castle's former master was unknown, but this once-great fortress had fallen into a desolate ruin, a silent witness to the passing of ages. Now, there was no longer any sign of its former prosperity and glory, only solitude and desolation.
The group stopped a few dozen meters from the castle gate. They began to coat their weapons with the advanced specter oil Lynn had distributed to them the night before. No one else had a silver weapon, so their steel blades would be useless against even the lowest-level specters. But the advanced specter oil would bridge that gap.
Lynn, in addition to applying a thick layer of oil to his own silver sword, also took out a few advanced Witcher potions and began to drink them. Signs were the most effective tool against specters. Therefore, potions like the Advanced Petri's Philter, which increased Sign intensity, the Advanced Tawny Owl, which sped up the recovery of chaotic power, and the Advanced Thunderbolt Potion, which enhanced physical strength, all came in handy.
After drinking three potions, Lynn felt nothing and could have continued drinking. Next, he took out another potion. It was an Ancient Leshen Decoction. This decoction's effect was to increase the efficiency of Sign casting, reducing the cost of chaotic power. This might seem like a small effect, but it could stack with the Advanced Tawny Owl—one to speed up recovery, the other to reduce cost. Together, they would greatly enhance his stamina and endurance. He needed to be prepared for a long battle, as no one knew how many specters were inside the Haunted Castle.
Then came the Advanced Cat Potion. It went without saying that the lights in the castle had long since gone out. There would be plenty of dark environments. A torch could provide light, but holding a torch would prevent him from casting Signs. Therefore, the Advanced Cat Potion was an indispensable tool for entering such an environment.
Of course, since they were still outside, he could save the Cat Potion for later.
With that, a pile of bottles and vials was consumed one after another, as if he were drinking beer. This entire process left the others staring in stunned silence. Especially when the toxic effects turned the Witcher's face a corpselike white, the youngest of them, Bjorn, couldn't help but curse out loud.
The others quietly moved away from Lynn as if he were a leper.
Lynn, however, was unfazed. The reaction was exactly what he expected, and he had long since grown accustomed to it. If anything, the Skelligers showing only fear and trepidation was a sign of their good character.
(End of Chapter)
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