A hole opened up on the ground beneath them, and a bloody vine covered in leaves and hooks pounced at Roy. The witcher swung his blade and sliced the vine in two. Green blood splattered everywhere. The limb wriggled like a tentacle, the mouth on its end biting and gnawing away at the air. Blood trickled out of the vine's mouth and burned through the ground.

The witchers swung their blades, while the sorcerers sent flames and crimson mist flying in every direction. The vines that were coming toward them howled in agony, then they fell with a sickening thud.

Just when the group thought they would have respite, the rumbling ground started shimmying like the waves of a bloody sea. Pockets the size of a baby's mouth opened up on the flesh, and scores of vines slithered out of the holes. They wriggled in the air and merged into a bloody cloud. The vines were eventually large enough to crush the group, and they plummeted like bloody meteorites. There was not a single empty space between the vines.

The group had no escape, and they were engulfed, but then, two elliptical beating hearts appeared within the chamber, and for a moment, only the sound of beating hearts echoed in the air.

Moments later, a crack opened in the heart, and a blinding flash of light poured forth. The gash became bigger and bigger. The uneven, fleshy heart started cracking like a porcelain object, then a dragon of flames came roaring out of the hole.

A stream of flames leapt forth from Coen's palms, escaping its prison. The charred, shattered vines lay dead beneath his feet like remnants of a carcass.

The witchers held up their blades, shielding themselves with Quen. The sorcerers cast their protective spells, conjuring an impenetrable barrier, and they escaped their prison.

Into the depths of the chamber they went, and a bolt flew through the air. A small hole pierced through the other heart, then the bolt flew to the other side of this bloody prison. Countless thorny vines lashed out at the air, flailing away like tentacles.

Roy appeared out of nowhere, holding a longsword in his hand. The black cloak behind him billowed like the wings of a bird, and he charged ahead. His sword danced around him, slicing and dicing the vines up into little pieces. Underneath the young witcher, a river made of green blood formed.

***

Roy traveled across the ground of carcasses and broke through all obstacles. He came to the other side, and there was something in his way. Something gigantic and connected to the ground.

***

The thing resembled an alder tree that had been split many times. Its rough bark had turned into something fleshy, just like this chamber. Luminescent lights flowed through the tree's trunk, and its umbrella-like branches were not unlike wriggling veins connected to the ground and ceiling.

On the end of the tree's branches were fluorescent mushrooms that expanded and contracted. There were also leaves that were shaped like and were as sharp as daggers. Roy sighted crimson fruits as well. A contorted face belonging to a human protruded between the leaves and trunk. The face was made out of branches and leaves. Roy could see its features. A colorful beard shot out of its chin, and its eyes were made out of fluorescent mushrooms. The slit between two groups of branches formed a sneer.

Roy could vaguely make this out to be an enlarged version of Idarran. He was staring at Roy with his luminescent eyes, and his gaze was filled with cunning and murder.

'Mutated treant

Status: A fusion between Idarran and fluorescent plants.'

***

"You're mad. You turned yourself into a monster."

A black bolt charged toward the monstrous face, but a wall of vines shot up from the ground and stopped it. The bolt pierced the first layer, but then a second wall stopped it, then a third, then it disappeared.

The mutated treant laughed from behind the walls of plants, and the ground underneath shook as it laughed. The monster lashed one of its branches at the witcher, and its leaves spun. They flew off the branch and charged at Roy like howling winds.

Roy shoved a blue Sign before him, and it shone brightly. Aard destroyed half of the leaves, but the other half hit the witcher and cut through Quen easily. They left marks on the dragonscale armor. Roy held up his arms to protect his head, and the leaves left marks on his vambraces too. One of the leaves sliced through the back of Roy's hand and carved a bit of flesh off him.

Roy couldn't find any openings to fight back.

***

"What a monster." The witchers charged through the attacking vines and came to Roy's side, then they too launched the offensive. Blasts of magic and glints of silver cut through the air. They were quick, deadly, and accurate, but Idarran was up to his old tricks again.

The sea of vines shot up from the ground, slithered down from the ceiling, and came at them from every direction. They were at a stalemate. Auckes let out a roar of fury as he cut away the vines trying to tie his legs. Kalkstein shouted in excitement as he shot energy arrow after energy arrow at the vines. One was caught by a purple arrow, and it was turned into a fireball. The vine shrank back into the bloody sea, and its companions wriggled, dousing the flames.

Coral's dress fluttered, her hair billowing, and she sent off blue blasts in a ring around her like a winter goddess. The frozen vines were crushed by their own swarm, shattered into pieces of ice, then more vines took their place.

***

Roy swung Aerondight in a horizontal line, and the winds howled. A crimson energy beam sliced many vines in two, but more took their place. They seemed to be endless. Every time they cut down one, two took its place.

The witcher's blade could cut through steel easily. His bolts could pierce through steel boards and dragon hide without a problem, and yet he was confined to a small circle by these vines, unable to make progress. These vines were unafraid of pain and death, and fire did not sway them. Instead, it only served to enrage Idarran further. He set more vines on the group.

"We're on his turf! Don't try to get into a war of attrition!" Coral hurled a blast of blue light and crushed the frozen vines around her, then she sidled up to Roy.

"Focus all your strength on one spot. Show him what you got." Vesemir pirouetted, spinning his blade around. He cut off a circle of vines and crushed them with his left foot. Green blood splattered everywhere. "Send him crying to his mama."

The group worked like a well-oiled machine. Letho, Coen, and Geralt kept their barriers up, securing their perimeter as they cut away at the vines. Everyone else was hurling everything they had at the center of the wriggling wall of vines. Chaos energy surged violently in the air.

Burning Igni, surging Aard, purple electric bolts, and blue frost roared across the air. Green blood drenched the air, broken limbs flew, and leaves jumped. A big, smoking hole was bored through the green wall. Through the hole, the group could see half of Idarran's monstrous face. Its brows were furrowed, its face wincing in pain.

Fungi strings grew from the edges of the hole, quickly wriggling closer to each other as they tried to patch the hole up.

A bolt flew through the air, a sorceress cast her spell, and someone tossed specially-made bombs into the hole. A burst of flame followed quickly and ignited the dangerous metallic contraption.

***

Everything stopped for a moment, then a great river of flames roared. The sea of plants and bushes exploded and splattered the group with their blood, but the barriers deflected the attack.

***

The group's attack worked. Severely hit, the treant felt great pain, and green tears spilled from its eyes. It let out a shrill roar, and for a moment, it was as if a million souls were howling in agony and sadness at the same time. Their howls could puncture anyone's eardrums.

The group put their hands to their ears, but their faces were still contorting in pain. The ground felt like a raging sea in a storm, crashing and roaring as if it wished to kill.

Then, the ground collapsed. A gaping maw opened up, and a ground of green liquid glinted underneath.

A bolt flew through the air, and Roy blinked away from the ground. He held his blade, its edge pointed at Idarran, but then a sea of green walls stopped him once more. Coral and Kalkstein stepped off the air and hovered.

They barely escaped the maw, but the other witchers fell into the green abyss, and the maw closed up. Sizzling sounds rang through the air.

Roy held Aerondight tightly with both hands and somersaulted. With the momentum, the young witcher sent an energy beam flying at the ground. A bloody gash opened up, but it healed up right away.

The sorcerers were quickly handling the incoming sea of vines, all the while bombarding the ground with fire, trying to save the engulfed witchers, but it was for naught. Every time they made a hole in the ground, it would heal up right away. It almost seemed like the ground could heal infinitely.

The mutated treant shook its branches again, and hundreds of fruits fell. The fruits quickly leapt back up the moment they touched the ground, morphing into red, agile, and deadpan soldiers. These soldiers were armed with leaves, and they melted into the ground underneath. A bulge appeared on the ground and pounced at the remaining fighters. Along with it was a sea of vines lashing out at Roy and the sorcerers like a boa constrictor.

Roy had a solemn look on his face. He held his sword in one hand and cast a golden rune in the other, then the light of Quen covered him. The witcher took a deep breath.

And then the core of the world trembled.

The temperature went up by a hundred degrees. An unstoppable surge of strengthtore through the wriggling ground. A gash opened up, and the light of flames danced as scorching lava poured forth from the gash.

The endlessly healing ground and plants fell into ruins from the destruction of the heat. They were charred and vaporized, filling the air with their rancid stench. Everything around them started to wilt and melt.

Flames soared, and sharp sulfur flowed. Smoke rose into the air.

The chamber looked like a small volcano waking up from its slumber and erupting for the first time. Roy made a gesture, and a dragon made of lava rolled through the ground, burning everything in its way. It had eyes for the mutated treant only.

Screams rose into the air as the fruit soldiers quickly leapt out of the scorching ground, then they melted away in the lava. The chamber was destroyed without mercy from the sudden onslaught of the world's core's magma.

Even Idarran, who'd changed into a tree, was heavily injured by the attack. Its luminescent trunk was starting to crack like it was glass. The creature felt an impending sense of doom coming for it. It screamed and pulled itself out of the ground. A pair of legs covered in fluorescent burls were pulled out of the ground, and the monster fled backward.

The monster had cut itself off from the ground beneath it and everything around it. Without the lynchpin around, the fleshy walls turned around once more, revealing a sea of fluorescent bushes.

The vines' attack was slowing down considerably, and the ground lost its source of healing.

Roy kept teleporting, swinging his blade away at the green walls and slicing down the fruit soldiers trying to tear down his armor and gnaw on his flesh. He went after Idarran like an unstoppable force of nature.

After their relentless bombardment, Coral and Kalkstein finally destroyed the ground beneath them, revealing a sixteen-foot wide gash. They could see a few silhouettes floating on the corrosive lake in the abyss. Light flickered on their tattered sleeves, and dozens of ropes rained into the gash. The sorcerers made a gesture and pulled the ropes up with magic.

The witchers came back to the ground, but they were breathing heavily, lying down to catch their breath, and they looked like hell.

It'd only been less than a minute since they fell into the lake, but most of their clothes were gone, and their leather armor was nothing but a thin layer of fabric. The metal and alloy they had were gleaming like they'd been polished. Only the dragonscales that protected their vitals remained intact.

Pieces of rotten flesh hung from their bones. Holes and craters bore themselves through the witchers' bodies. Their muscles and veins were visible, and in some parts, the bones could be seen. All their hair was gone, including their beards and eyebrows, but under the influence of a powerful decoction, the wounds and rotten flesh were healing up at a blistering speed, leaving not even a single scar behind.

Ten seconds after leaving the lake, the witchers' wounds were all healed up.

"So, how do you feel?" Kalkstein was a little nervous, but he was concerned and curious.

"This higher vampire decoction is marvelous. Felt like I got sliced up and mashed up again." Lambert turned around and looked at Geralt. The White Wolf had no beard, and his stress lines were crossed with the black vines on his face. "And you look like a pervert, Geralt." Geralt's scar was gone too. "And you're hideous."

Geralt looked at the hairless Lambert's head and rubbed his hairless head as well. He mocked, "And you don't have to worry about your hairline anymore, Lambert. You don't even have any hair." The White Wolf's lips twitched. He could still feel the pain from being eaten up by acid. It was something he didn't want to go through again.

"I feel great. Never been better." Kiyan looked at his nearly scarless hand, then he touched his smooth, supple cheeks. The witcher was so excited, he could cry. His whole body was eaten by the acid, but the decoction healed him back up. This ordeal was a blessing in disguise. The pain and horror and scars left by the inhumane experiments in his darkest days were gone. He had a regular face once more.

Eskel observed the equally bald Vesemir and lamented, "You got younger, Vesemir. Less wrinkles. You look like you're in your forties. Does the decoction turn back your age too?" He grinned, and a pair of vampiric fangs were revealed.

The witchers were surprised by their companions' largely different looks. Everyone lost their hair, but they'd also lost their iconic scars. Their wrinkles lightened up too, and they looked ten years younger.

It was a pity the decoction had extreme restrictions. They could only use it once a year, and only three times their whole lives. If they went past the limit, they would incur irrevocable complications.

"Now is not the time for jokes, lads. Get up. We have a score to settle with that tree." Vesemir looked at his perfect and woundless hand. He quickly made a sign and toppled a fruit soldier that was attacking him. The old witcher stared into the distance, where a teleporting Roy was chasing after an oddly amusing running tree. "I will cut him up to pieces and turn him into charcoal."

***

Idarran came to a stop before a black stone door with complex engravings on it. He leaned his back on the door at the end of the corridor and breathed heavily, but his eyes were set on the lone figure charging straight at him.

Roy sliced the incoming fruits in halves. The soldiers spat out green blood and jamlike innards.

The young witcher teleported once more and was five yards away from Idarran. He sliced the air and cut down all the vines. Idarran shook his branches again, and a storm of leaves came charging at the witcher.

Roy did not dodge this time.

Fus!

The Bones of the Earth tore apart the storm of leaves, stopping its path of destruction. Idarran froze, as if he were thunderstruck. Crimson light bathed Roy, and the tentacles held Idarran up, wrapping him tightly. Only the trunk and his furious but downtrodden face were revealed.

Roy looked at the creature, his gaze conflicted. If they hadn't prepared this much, almost all of the group would've been taken out, save for him and a couple of others. Idarran wasn't a powerful sorcerer, but he was a cunning and tricky enemy.

"Why aren't you running anymore, Idarran?" A dimeritium chain wrapped itself around the treant. Roy pointed his sword at Idarran's eyes, less than an inch away. "Tell me. Why aren't the grandmasters showing themselves?"

Roy looked at the shut door behind Idarran, his eyes glinting. "What secrets lie behind you?"

***

***