[X] First make sure the Witch is restrained, using additional Black Keys as necessary. Have Lancer test different elemental types of damage to see if anything sticks and can kill the Witch. If they can't in a reasonable amount of time, project Gáe Bolg Alternative and use Gáe Bolg Alternative: Soaring Spear of Piercing Death.
Back again, back again, jiggedy-jig. It's hardly been an hour since you left the labyrinth of the ram witch, and very little has changed one bit in your absence. That's good, at least; you aren't in for any nasty surprises that way. True, you can no longer smell burning yarn or the cooked mutton scent of the witch, but no major obvious changes is a good thing.
Unfortunately, what is most decidedly
not a good thing is that the witch has moved- No, more accurately, that the witch has
been moved. You're doubtful that it could have moved under its own power with so many Black Keys pinning it down, and yet all the evidence shows that the witch is not there any more. "Well, that's not a good sign."
Lancer kneels down at the place where the witch had been previously, examining the knit ground with a careful eye. All of the Black Keys are intact, piled high in a neat little stack. "These were not broken," she says, standing, tossing aside the blade she had been studying. "The witch was moved through outside assistance."
You had been certain that your attacks had wiped out all of the witch's familiars. "You're saying that someone came in here to let it loose?"
Lancer shakes her head. "No. Most likely, the witch has more familiars than we had previously believed."
Lancer's guess proves accurate when the two of you find yourselves face-to-face with a clan of familiars, bustling about with wood and carpentry tools as they work to rebuild the destroyed manger. Thus far they've only managed to put up the frame and a few pieces of siding. Observing from a distance, you can see that the witch inside has reverted to its earlier white colouration, and its wounds are being tended to by another clan of familiars. You don't notice any new bodies lying around, so at least there's some good news to come from all of this.
"They sure are an industrious bunch," you say, readying your bow and a handful of Black Keys. You make short work of the familiars, before following suite and targeting the witch. It's pinned down, it's struggling, and its wool has gone black again. It's ear-shattering bleating makes you wish you could Project a set of earplugs, and even at this distance, you practically have to yell to Lancer when you tell her "Hit it with whatever elemental damage your runes can come up with! If anything sticks, hit it with more of that!" Where the raw, destructive force of Caladbolg and Hrunting were largely ineffective at harming the witch, being on fire seemed to go a long ways towards provoking it, and your hope is for a repeat of that with Lancer's attack.
Lancer plants her spear into the ground at her side, and with a flick of the fingers on both hands she calls for torrents of fire and ice from
Sowilo and
Isa. Hot and cold merge like the storm winds, rising and falling until the change in barometric pressure is enough to create a hurricane around the witch. There's three out of four, but an earthen attack will be impossible with this terrain. Lightning is flung from the fringes of the storm, only to be redirected back inwards at the witch as Lancer throws up a reflective barrier around the storm. Then, with a great crash and several runes working in tandem, Lancer forces all her efforts into a sphere that encompasses the witch, crushing the barrier smaller and smaller until a web of cracks form all along its rim.
Both you and Lancer call up shields at the same time as her -
what should you even call that attack? - "elemental bomb", for lack of a better name, violently thrusts the chaotic storm outwards in a terrible explosion, the force contained within having finally become too great to contain. Fire and ice and lightning are thrown in all directions and a great cloud of thick black smoke chokes even your enhanced vision. But before you can even see if the witch has fallen, your ears tell you that Lancer is preparing for a second attack. Behind the curtain of smoke, you can just make out the flickering blues of her firestorm and her blizzard as they converge into another roaring hurricane.
Twice, a third, and even a fourth time Lancer repeats her attack, pouring more and more of her power and fury into the explosive elemental attack with each successive attack; at this point, you have to wonder just what kind of havoc Lancer's attacks are wreaking on her master's Soul Gem, already taxed enough as it must be with everything else that's happened today. Finally, the fifth explosion rings out from beyond the protective walls of Rho Aias, and the ringing in your ears slowly dies out as the battlefield falls silent.
A shape emerges from the smoke as the billowing clouds fade from view, revealing the form of the witch. It's an unsightly mess, wool charred and flesh frozen, its body torn to pieces in ways too gruesome to describe. At least one of its eyes appears to have burst, among other injuries your mind isn't even going to try to process. You're just glad that the damned thing doesn't bleed, or else this sight would be even sorrier than it already is.
And yet still, the ruined husk of meat and mana still refuses to die, shambling awkwardly towards your position on burnt-mutton legs and silverware hooves that are so melted that they'd have long ago fused to any ground made of a harder material than yarn. At this point, you're wondering if you shouldn't just Project a copy of the Gáe Bolg and hope to make an instant-killing strike on the witch -
But when did that ever work for Cu Chulainn? - but Lancer already has that plan of attack covered. Wreathing her spear in fire, she brings it to bear against the witch before launching it like a thrown javelin. With a solid "thunk" like the sound of an axe cleaving through wood, it lodges itself inside the witch's skull.
For a few seconds, nothing happens. Then, the witch's head falls off, and what little flesh and wool remain are burned away. Lancer retrieves her spear, along with the Grief Seed that fell from the witch's skull, and the labyrinth melts away at long last.
And you barely had to do anything.
"I hope your master will not mind if I take this Grief Seed back to my master. After this ordeal, I am sure she will need it more."
Note to self- Do not piss of Lancer. "Uh, right, sure."
[ ] Wat do?