Chapter 28: Vizima Outskirts
POV: Adam
Vizima sprawled across the horizon like a merchant's fever dream made manifest in stone and timber, its walls rising from cultivated fields with the confident authority of a city that had never seriously doubted its own permanence. Smoke from countless chimneys painted the evening sky in gray ribbons, prosperity, industry, and the kind of civilization that existed because enough people with enough swords had decided it should.
Overwhelming. After weeks in forests and swamps, this much humanity feels overwhelming.
Adam paused on the hill overlooking the city, letting his senses adjust to the assault of concentrated urban life. Sounds carried on wind that tasted of bread and horses and human ambition—cart wheels on cobblestones, merchants calling their wares, the distant ring of hammers on anvils where craftsmen shaped metal into tools and weapons and dreams.
Real civilization. Not just villages hoping to avoid notice.
Beside him, Ciri pulled her hood lower over features that might attract unwanted attention from people who collected bounties or sold information to interested parties. Her ash-blonde hair was hidden, her posture deliberately hunched, but something about the way she carried herself still whispered of nobility to anyone trained to recognize such things.
Keep your head down. Don't make eye contact. Just another refugee seeking shelter.
They approached the city gates with documents that identified them as siblings from a farm near the Cintran border, orphaned by war and seeking relatives who might provide shelter. The guards' attention was cursory—two more displaced persons among hundreds who'd appeared since Nilfgaard began its expansion.
Invisible. Good. Invisible is what keeps us alive.
The posting board outside the Merchants' Quarter inn bore contracts , a city struggling with problems that conventional authority couldn't address. Missing persons, strange sounds in the sewers, livestock killed by something with too many teeth—the usual catalogue of supernatural difficulties that required professional solutions.
"Nekkers in Sewers" - Contract accepted by G. of Rivia - 50 crowns.
Adam stared at the posting with mixture of hope and frustration. Geralt had been here three days ago, close enough that they might have encountered him if their timing had been different. But three days was eternity when following someone whose profession required constant movement.
Trail goes cold. Again. We're always one step behind.
The tavern's interior provided warmth and information in equal measure, its common room filled with merchants and travelers whose conversations painted pictures of a kingdom trying to maintain normal commerce while wars raged beyond its borders. Adam approached the bar with casual confidence, seeking gossip that might point them toward their next destination.
"White-haired witcher?" the bartender repeated, his weathered face cycling through calculation as he decided how much information was worth sharing. "Aye, he was through here. Finished up some business in the sewers, then headed east toward Ellander. Something about a contract there."
Ellander. Always moving, always following the next contract.
"How long ago?" Adam asked, sliding a crown across the scarred wooden surface with movements that suggested more might follow for useful information.
"Three days, maybe four. Didn't linger once his work was done. Professional types rarely do."
Three days head start. In a profession where mobility is survival.
Adam returned to their table where Ciri waited with patience, someone who'd learned not to expect immediate solutions to complex problems. Her green eyes held questions that he answered with expressions that conveyed disappointment without requiring words.
Always one step behind. But we're getting closer.
A familiar blue shimmer materialized in his peripheral vision, offering structure in the form of objectives that might provide both experience and resources.
[MISSION ALERT - Choose One:]
Option A (BLUE): "Clear the Sewers"
Complete Geralt's unfinished contract
Reward: 300 XP, 80 crowns, +Municipal Reputation
Difficulty: High (confined space, multiple enemies)
Option B (YELLOW): "Keep Searching"
Leave immediately for Ellander
Reward: 100 XP, time saved
Risk: Losing trail again, depleted resources
We need the money. And Geralt might not even be in Ellander anymore.
Adam selected Option A, understanding that their pursuit of the White Wolf would require resources they didn't currently possess. Better to complete available work than chase shadows with empty pockets.
[MISSION ACCEPTED: "Clear the Sewers"]
[Objective: Eliminate nekker infestation beneath Vizima]
[Warning: Confined combat environment, limited escape routes]
The Vizima sewers stretched beneath the city like veins in a body that had grown too large for its circulatory system, brick-lined tunnels carrying waste and secrets in equal measure. Adam led the way through passages that reeked of human civilization's less pleasant aspects, his expanded Air Sense tracking movement patterns ,organized intelligence rather than random infestation.
Fifteen nekkers minimum. Plus something larger commanding them.
The first chamber opened before them like an amphitheater designed by someone with thoroughly unpleasant architectural preferences. Nekkers swarmed across ledges and platforms with coordination, pack tactics refined through successful predation, their chittering voices echoing off stone walls in harmonies that made Adam's teeth ache.
Nekker warrior. Level 16, commanding the pack. Take out the leader and the rest might scatter.
But the warrior proved more intelligent than expected, positioning itself where direct assault would require fighting through subordinates while avoiding the cave-ins that might result from too much magical force applied in confined spaces.
Air Pressure to collapse the tunnel. Bury half of them before the fight starts.
Adam triggered the most powerful technique he'd ever attempted in enclosed space, focusing atmospheric force on structural points that looked less stable than their neighbors. Stone and mortar surrendered to pressure they hadn't been designed to withstand, burying eight nekkers beneath rubble that would serve as their permanent tomb.
Eight down. Seven plus the warrior remaining.
The final battle took place in space barely large enough for proper sword work, Adam and Ciri fighting back-to-back against creatures that used familiar terrain to maximum advantage. But their coordination had reached the point where conscious thought was unnecessary—muscle memory and trained instinct turning them into a single organism with multiple weapons.
Ciri distracts the warrior. I suffocate it while she keeps the others busy.
Air Suffocation proved devastatingly effective in enclosed space where air circulation was limited to begin with. The nekker warrior clawed at its throat while invisible force compressed its windpipe, supernatural strength proving inadequate against an opponent who could manipulate the basic atmospheric requirements for life.
Victory. Expensive victory, but victory.
[Experience Gained: 630 XP total]
[LEVEL UP! 15 → 16]
[Free Stat Points: +5]
[Allocation: +2 STR, +1 STA, +2 AGI]
[New Stats: STR 30, STA 39, AGI 37, HP 300, MP 390]
[Materials Harvested: 120 crowns worth]
[Quest Reward: 80 crowns]
[Total Funds: ~400 crowns]
Level 16. Enough money to fund serious travel. Getting stronger.
They emerged from the sewers into evening light that felt clean after hours in tunnels that reeked of urban decay, their pockets heavier with coin and their experience total reflecting growth that came through necessity rather than choice.
Following Geralt's trail. Cleaning up contracts he left unfinished.
"Ellander," Ciri said as they walked toward the inn where hot baths and clean beds waited for travelers with sufficient funds. "He's always moving."
Always moving. That's what keeps witchers alive.
"We'll find him," Adam said, meaning every word despite the mounting evidence that their quarry moved faster than their pursuit. "Eventually."
Eventually. In a world where timing means everything, eventually might not be soon enough.
But looking at Ciri's profile as lamplight painted her features in gold and shadow, Adam understood that some pursuits were worth whatever effort they required. Geralt represented answers to questions that had been building since Cintra fell, but more importantly, he represented hope that somewhere in this world, people existed who could provide the protection that Adam might not be capable of offering.
Find Geralt. Find answers. Find safety.
The road east toward Ellander stretched into darkness beyond the city walls, leading toward whatever revelations waited for two young people whose love had been forged in fire and whose future depended on finding a man whose profession was solving problems that conventional authority couldn't address.
Tomorrow. We leave for Ellander tomorrow.
Tonight was theirs—hot food, clean beds, and the luxury of sleeping without one eye open for threats that might emerge from forest shadows.
Small victories. In a world where kingdoms fall overnight, small victories are what keep you sane.
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