Crack-boom! The bridge deck instantly collapsed.
The horses carrying Geralt and Yennefer immediately neighed in terror, carrying them on their backs.
Along with the broken planks and ropes, they plummeted down the bottomless cliff.
Borch and his two Zerrikanian girls were a few horses behind Geralt and the others.
Fortunately, he stopped at the edge of the yet-to-collapse cliff and watched the scene in horror.
At the last moment, Geralt displayed the extraordinary reflexes and strength expected of a Witcher.
In the instant of the fall, he suddenly reached out, his five fingers like iron hooks, grabbing a protruding rock on the cliff edge.
At the same time, his other hand accurately and forcefully grasped Yennefer's wrist, which was also falling.
The momentum of the two people abruptly stopped, and they hung over the cliff like a pendulum.
Yennefer let out a short cry, her face turning pale.
However, the crisis was not resolved; the stone Geralt was holding with one hand, and the cliff face where his fingers were gripping,
due to the weight of the two, emitted an ominous crack.
Fine cracks rapidly spread like a web around his fingers, clearly not about to last long.
"Geralt! Yennefer!" Borch exclaimed but didn't dare to rush to help.
Fearing that any movement would accelerate the collapse of the rock face, he quickly pulled the reins, making his horse stop at a safe distance.
At the same time, he gestured to the two guards not to act impulsively, hesitating whether to use a spell himself.
At this critical moment, when the lives of the two hung by a thread, a figure approached the edge of the crumbling cliff with an almost nonchalant speed, incompatible with the surrounding panicked atmosphere—it was Karl.
Or, rather, "Arn Vati" in the eyes of the other onlookers.
He ignored the falling rocks and the dizzying heights below.
He stepped directly onto the stone face Geralt was holding, not even lying down to lower his center of gravity, simply bending over.
Geralt looked up and saw Karl's calm face, his eyes instantly flashing with a mixture of surprise, hope, and gratitude.
"Hurry up." Karl said to Geralt, who was holding onto Yennefer and dangling in the air, and the pale Yennefer clutching Geralt's arm below.
Yennefer's chest rose and fell violently, the fear of death gripping her.
She nodded vigorously, almost mustering her strength, and wrapped both arms around Geralt's wrists and forearms.
Then, to the disbelief of Borch and the few nearby adventurers who were shocked and had only just noticed the situation on this side,
Karl simply reached out and easily grasped the hand Geralt was using to hold the stone, then lifted it as if casually.
Whoosh! Geralt and Yennefer felt an irresistible force.
Their combined weight, nearly two hundred kilograms with their gear, was nothing in the face of this force.
They were lifted up, instantly out of danger, and landed lightly on the safe ground next to Borch.
Karl even had time to brush some non-existent dust from his palm, calmly, as if he had just picked up two stones from the ground.
He even stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down into the smoky valley, not intending to immediately retreat to safety.
Yennefer sat crouched on the ground, clutching her chest and gasping for breath.
Her face was bloodless, and she seemed to have lifelong fears.
Although Geralt's heart was also pounding, as a Witcher who had experienced much, he was much calmer.
He quickly checked his body, especially his hands and wrists that Karl had just grabbed and Yennefer had clung to.
Under the pull and grip of force that would break an ordinary person's arm, he felt no pain, nor saw a single red mark or bruise?
A flicker of doubt passed through his eyes, but this was not the time to dwell on it, and he reached out to help Yennefer, who was still a bit unsteady on her feet.
They looked at Karl, who had turned to face them.
Geralt said sincerely: "Thank you, Arn Vati."
Karl nodded slightly, as if accepting the thanks, and glanced to the side.
There was a ranger knight who had just pulled out a rope shimmering with faint magical fluctuations.
The other party also seemed ready to help, but his movements were much slower; wasn't he Ike?
Geralt paused, watching Karl still standing very close to the cliff edge, as if his feet were not on an abyss but on flat ground.
Inexplicably, with a hint of Witcher's professional habit, he blurted out: "Arn Vati, aren't you... afraid of falling off the cliff?"
In his opinion, although Karl's actions had just saved them, they were extremely risky.
Karl was immediately amused by Geralt's question; he suppressed a laugh and shook his head.
He replied in a playful and natural tone: "Afraid? Geralt, I'm not you."
He extended a finger and pointed at the cliff, which was at least thirty meters high.
"Down there, thirty or forty meters to the bottom, for me... that's a low puddle you can step into."
"Even if I jumped now, I wouldn't even need to bend my knees when landing."
Geralt was stunned on the spot by Karl's almost absurd answer.
He looked at the height, which was enough to kill most creatures, then at Karl's expression, which didn't look at all fake.
He was silent for a few seconds before slowly and complexly saying: "Arn Vati... I feel like you're more of a 'freak' than I am."
At that moment, Borch approached with his two Zerrikanian guard girls.
His gaze on Karl was full of surprise and inquiry: "Geralt, this powerful warrior... why have I never heard you mention him?"
"I have no doubt that the strength he just displayed could easily overturn a fully armed warhorse at a full charge!"
Borch said, looking intently at Karl.
However, when his gaze met Karl's blue, indifferent eyes,
a sudden, intense unease arose in his heart for no reason, a kind of vigilance from a life instinct, as if encountering a natural enemy.
It was as if... something hidden within this seemingly ordinary human body could easily threaten his life.
If he were careless or showed the slightest change, it could lead to tragic consequences. But this feeling came and went quickly.