Chapter 325: The Godly Aard
Inside the captain's cabin of the Nilfgaardian flagship.
The candlelight cast a pallid glow on the face of the dejected Count Tulleus.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't comprehend how things had turned out this way.
A group of islanders, filled with nothing but raw courage, a ragtag army with barely any archers to speak of... who could have guessed they were hiding such a massive quantity of alchemical bombs?
Nilfgaard had its share of mages, and as a count, he was certainly familiar with alchemical bombs. In fact, a nobleman had once proposed a plan to mass-produce and equip the imperial army with them, a move that would have vastly increased their combat effectiveness.
But the Ministry of Finance had vetoed the proposal.
The Empire's standing army numbered over three hundred thousand. Even if they didn't equip every single soldier, even just singling out a group of soldiers in each unit to act as grenadiers was more than the treasury could handle.
It wasn't just the staggering cost of manufacturing such a colossal number of bombs; the Empire simply couldn't find enough mages to work tirelessly, day and night.
True, the status of mages in the Empire was lower than in the Northern Kingdoms. But they weren't mindless beasts to be worked on an assembly line. While they were forced to pledge loyalty to the Empire, ordinary mages still enjoyed a degree of protection. As long as they didn't directly oppose the Emperor, they could even ignore orders from regular military officers.
But if they were to be locked in a room and forced to churn out alchemical bombs without rest... Even if they didn't rebel, the labor costs for so many mages would be astronomical.
It was these complex reasons that led to the imperial army not being equipped with alchemical bombs.
So, if the Nilfgaardian army couldn't mass-equip these bombs, where did the uncultured Skelligan savages get theirs?
After much deliberation, Count Tulleus could only come to one conclusion.
The Druid Circle on Skellige had intervened.
After all, only with the help of the Druids could Skellige's jarls have been supplied with dozens of alchemical bombs. Furthermore, Count Tulleus had "personally witnessed" Druids fighting alongside the islanders on the battlefield earlier.
With the Druids' direct involvement, only the Great Sun knew how much more aid those nature-worshiping fanatics would provide to the islanders.
The only course of action now was to preserve his forces, retreat to the Empire, and report this vital intelligence to the Emperor. He could only hope the Emperor would grant him a chance to redeem himself...
As Count Tulleus was lost in these thoughts, the door to the captain's cabin suddenly opened.
A Nilfgaardian soldier stepped inside.
Tulleus immediately dropped his grim expression, his usual commanding demeanor returning.
"What is it?" he asked coolly.
The soldier bowed his head and reported, "My lord, an urgent matter... We've discovered an assassin has infiltrated the flagship."
"What?!"
Count Tulleus was startled. How did the islanders know he was here? Moreover, the flagship was at the center of the entire fleet; how did an assassin sneak aboard without any other ships raising the alarm?
Before he could voice these questions, Tulleus keenly noticed the soldier making a strange hand gesture.
"What are you doing?"
Lynn was slightly surprised. The usual glimmer of magical energy, which had always worked, failed to appear.
The Axii Sign had no effect.
But Lynn's reaction was swift. He was already close to Count Tulleus, and in a single step, he closed the remaining distance. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of the count. His iron-gloved fist clenched, he delivered a crushing blow straight to Tulleus's face.
The witcher's speed was far too great. Tulleus had no time to react before he was struck head-on, sent staggering back. As he fell, he tried to grab the table to steady himself, but instead, the table and his body crashed to the floor together.
Giving him no chance to get back up, Lynn pounced on top of him. With a twist of his wrist, a hunting knife appeared in his hand.
The next second, the knife plunged viciously into Count Tulleus's neck.
Lynn held nothing back. The hunting knife pierced through cleanly, buried to the hilt.
Tulleus's eyes widened, like a fish out of water. He clearly hadn't imagined he would die here. His body struggled for a few moments, but Lynn held him down firmly. Soon, he went still.
Seeing that the count had stopped struggling, Lynn finally let out a breath. He noticed a medallion with the sunburst emblem hanging around Tulleus's neck.
The witcher tore it off in a single motion. He rubbed it between his fingers. A look of dawning realization spread across his face.
It was an anti-magic medallion.
No wonder his Sign had failed just now. He shook his head regretfully. Since the medallion was made of anti-magic metal, he couldn't keep it. The magically enchanted pouch he used was of the highest quality and craftsmanship, which was why it hadn't lost its function and spilled its contents in the presence of the medallion.
But in the presence of anti-magic metal, he couldn't open the pouch, let alone put the medallion inside it.
Of course, he had one other option: to wear the anti-magic medallion himself. After all, he wasn't a sorcerer; wearing it would only be a minor discomfort, not a severe reaction like a mage would have.
But in the end, he didn't. Wearing it would prevent him from using his pouch and casting Signs, which was too great a limitation. The place he was in was far from safe.
So, he opened the cabin window and simply threw the anti-magic medallion out.
As the medallion created a splash in the sea below, he felt a sense of relief; he could now open his enchanted pouch freely and cast Signs at will.
If he didn't have his Signs and his pouch, he would have been in a rather dangerous situation, unless he had the strength of a Space Marine.
Just as Lynn was about to give Count Tulleus a more thorough search...
The door to the cabin opened once more.
A heavy-armored guard walked in. He was carefully holding a tray with a steaming bowl of food and broth.
"My lord, some food..."
The guard's eyes fell upon Lynn, whose clothes were stained with blood, and then on Count Tulleus, who lay on the floor, his neck still gushing blood that had stained the floor a dark red.
His eyes widened in shock. The expression quickly turned from disbelief to furious anger.
But just as he was about to drop the tray, a circle of magical light enveloped his head.
The anger quickly faded from his face, replaced by a vacant, sluggish stare.
(End of Chapter)
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