The soldier bowed again, deeper than before.
"Permission to deliver the full message, Young Master."
Lucas let out a silent sigh.
In his mind, only one thought came up: Damn… this world is way too dramatic.
"Fine. Say it."
The soldier straightened up, though his knees were visibly trembling.
"T-The duel will be held in the center of Voss Town," he reported.
"Announcements have already been posted throughout the city. The duel is scheduled for the late afternoon… so the commonfolk can watch."
Geralt went pale.
Anya's jaw dropped.
"The countdown is six days from now."
Lucas rubbed his forehead.
Great… a whole circus. Exactly what I needed.
But the soldier wasn't finished.
"There is one last message from Sir Aldric…"
Lucas lifted his head.
"What now?"
The soldier swallowed, clearly terrified.
"He asked… where the Young Master would like to be buried."
Silence fell.
Then—
"Son of a bitch," Lucas muttered irritably.
