Capítulo 28: Chapter 4: The Forgotten Kingdom
Eryk trudged through the treacherous swamplands, his boots sinking into the mire with each step. The air was heavy with moisture and a pervasive sense of decay. The croaking of frogs and the hiss of unseen creatures added to the eerie atmosphere.
As Eryk ventured deeper into the swamp, the landscape changed. Ancient trees loomed overhead, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. Moss-covered ruins of what was once a grand kingdom peeked through the overgrown foliage, whispering tales of a forgotten era.
Eryk's heart quickened with anticipation. He knew that the basilisk's lair lay hidden amidst these ruins, its venomous gaze waiting to strike. He unsheathed his silver sword, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light, and proceeded with caution.
Navigating the labyrinthine ruins proved challenging, but Eryk's Witcher training served him well. He deftly avoided hidden traps and sidestepped crumbling structures. The basilisk's presence became palpable as the air grew thicker, tinged with the scent of ancient venom.
After what felt like hours of searching, Eryk stumbled upon a chamber illuminated by shards of sunlight filtering through a collapsed ceiling. In the center of the room, a colossal basilisk curled upon a stone dais, its emerald eyes glimmering with malevolence.
Eryk approached with caution, his heart pounding in his chest. The basilisk hissed, its forked tongue flickering as it sensed his presence. Knowing that a direct confrontation would be deadly, Eryk relied on his knowledge of the beast's weaknesses.
With swift movements, Eryk drew a vial of specially prepared antidote from his satchel. He uncorked it, allowing the pungent aroma to permeate the air. The basilisk's eyes narrowed as it caught the scent, its attention momentarily diverted.
Seizing the opportunity, Eryk lunged forward, his silver sword striking true. The blade pierced the basilisk's scaly hide, drawing a spray of dark blood. The creature recoiled, its lethal gaze fixed on Eryk. Venomous fangs snapped in his direction, but Eryk's agility allowed him to dodge the deadly strike.
The battle raged on, Eryk weaving in and out, striking at the basilisk's vulnerable spots while avoiding its venomous attacks. It was a dance of life and death, a test of skill and nerve. As the minutes turned into eternity, Eryk's determination and unwavering focus pushed him beyond his limits.
Finally, with a final thrust of his sword, Eryk plunged it deep into the basilisk's heart. The creature let out a spine-chilling screech, its body convulsing before slumping to the ground in a lifeless heap. The battle was won, but Eryk's journey was far from over.
He approached the basilisk's corpse, careful to avoid contact with its venomous fangs. With steady hands, he extracted a single fang—an iridescent, lethal weapon that would serve as proof of his triumph. Securing it in a pouch, Eryk felt a sense of accomplishment and relief wash over him.
But his task was not complete. Eryk knew that his next destination awaited—a dormant volcano, home to the legendary dragon from which he must claim its scales. He retraced his steps through the ruins, the weight of his next challenge pressing upon him.
The journey to the volcano was arduous, fraught with peril at every turn. Eryk climbed treacherous slopes, braved scorching heat.
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