Chapter 22: The Devil's Truth
POV: Viktor
The hills outside Posada rolled away from the town like wrinkled fabric, covered in the kind of scrubland that suggested the soil was more optimistic than fertile. Viktor had chosen a relatively flat boulder as his meditation spot, reasoning that two hours of sitting cross-legged on stone would regenerate enough MP to make him useful for whatever they were about to encounter.
What he hadn't counted on was Jaskier's complete inability to remain quiet for more than thirty consecutive seconds.
"How long does this take?" the bard asked, circling Viktor's meditation rock like a curious cat. "The mystical trance thing. Is it always this... statuesque?"
"It takes as long as it takes," Viktor muttered, trying to maintain the mental clarity necessary for MP regeneration. "And it goes faster when people aren't talking."
"Right, right. Absolute silence. Got it." Jaskier was quiet for perhaps ten seconds. "But seriously, do you always look this... peaceful? It's quite ethereal, really. Like a monument to inner tranquility."
Viktor opened one eye to find Jaskier studying him with the kind of artistic appreciation usually reserved for sculpture.
"Are you planning to comment on my meditation technique for the next two hours?"
"Oh no, I have much better ideas!"
Before Viktor could protest, Jaskier had produced a handful of wildflowers and was carefully arranging them in Viktor's hair. The bard stepped back to admire his handiwork, then began to sing in a voice that somehow managed to be both melodically gifted and utterly ridiculous:
"The prophet sits so still and deep,
While elves and devils secrets keep!
With flowers crowned and wisdom bright,
He meditates from morn till night!"
Viktor's eyes snapped open mid-verse, causing the carefully arranged flowers to cascade from his hair like falling snow. Jaskier doubled over with laughter, his mirth infectious enough that even Renfri was fighting to suppress a smile.
"Very funny," Viktor said, brushing petals from his shoulders. "Mock the man trying to recover his magical energy so he can help save your lives."
"I prefer to think of it as artistic collaboration," Jaskier replied, wiping tears from his eyes. "You provide the mystical ambiance, I provide the musical interpretation."
[MEDITATION INTERRUPTED]
[MANA REGENERATED: 0 → 10]
[EFFICIENCY REDUCED: COMEDIC DISRUPTION]
Viktor sighed and settled back into meditation, determined to ignore whatever further artistic interpretations Jaskier might devise. The next hour and a half passed with only minor interruptions—Jaskier's attempts at creating percussion accompaniment with nearby rocks, his whispered commentary on the local wildlife, and his increasingly elaborate theories about the nature of prophetic powers.
By the time Viktor had regenerated a modest 10 MP, he was ready to use every point of it just to make the bard stop talking.
"Success Rate Analysis: Is this contract actually about a simple monster?"
[MANA DECREASED: 10 → 5]
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[PROBABILITY: 15% - UNLIKELY TO BE STANDARD MONSTER]
[ALTERNATIVE SCENARIOS: SYLVAN (40%), DOPPLER (25%), POLITICAL DECEPTION (20%)]
[RECOMMENDATION: INVESTIGATE BEFORE ENGAGING]
The results confirmed Viktor's growing suspicions. Devils were rare, intelligent, and generally uninterested in grain theft. Whatever was happening in these hills, it wasn't what the alderman had described.
"Follow-up analysis: Is this situation politically motivated?"
[MANA DECREASED: 5 → 0]
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[PROBABILITY: 90% - EXTREMELY LIKELY]
[PRIMARY FACTORS: GRAIN THEFT PATTERN, SEASONAL TIMING, PROXIMITY TO ELF-CLAIMED TERRITORIES]
[ASSESSMENT: CONTRACT LIKELY CONNECTED TO LARGER TERRITORIAL DISPUTE]
Viktor opened his eyes to find Geralt watching him with the kind of attention that suggested the Witcher had learned to recognize the signs of Viktor's analytical abilities.
"What did you see?" Geralt asked.
"This isn't a monster hunt. It's politics." Viktor stood up, brushing dust from his clothes and trying to organize his thoughts. "The Success Rate Analysis suggests this is tied to some kind of territorial dispute. Probably involving elves."
"Elves?" Jaskier's voice took on the eager tone of someone who'd just heard his favorite word. "Oh, this gets better and better! Ancient blood, mysterious motives, forbidden territories—the dramatic potential is unlimited!"
"Elves are dangerous," Renfri observed, her hand moving unconsciously toward her sword hilt. "Especially when they're protecting something they consider theirs."
Geralt was quiet for a moment, his amber eyes studying the surrounding hills with the kind of tactical assessment that came from a century of walking into dangerous situations.
"If it's political, we need to be careful. Elves don't distinguish between humans who mean well and humans who mean harm. To them, we're all the same threat."
Viktor felt the familiar weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. In the show, this encounter with the elves had been a test of mercy versus justice, with lives hanging in the balance based on choices made in crucial moments. But his presence had already changed so much about the timeline that he couldn't be sure how events would unfold.
He needed resources. Insurance. Some way to contribute beyond climbing trees and providing tactical analysis.
[SYSTEM STORE ACCESSED]
[CURRENT SYSTEM POINTS: 1025]
[AVAILABLE ITEMS:]
[MINOR MANA POTION - 75 SP]
[MINOR HEALTH POTION - 50 SP]
[TRAINEE'S BLADE - 500 SP]
[HUNTER'S BOW - 500 SP]
[TACTICAL ANALYSIS CRYSTAL - 200 SP]
Viktor studied the options, weighing immediate needs against future possibilities. The Tactical Analysis Crystal was tempting—an item that would enhance his analytical abilities—but expensive enough to limit his other purchases.
Better to stick with proven solutions.
[PURCHASE: MINOR MANA POTION x2]
[COST: 150 SP]
[REMAINING SYSTEM POINTS: 1025 → 875]
[CURRENT INVENTORY: MINOR HEALTH POTION x1, MINOR MANA POTION x3]
Three mana potions. Enough to use his abilities multiple times without risking complete magical exhaustion. It wasn't much, but it was better than relying solely on meditation in potentially hostile territory.
"There," Geralt announced, pointing toward a section of hillside where the grass looked somehow different—pressed down in patterns that suggested regular passage by something large.
Viktor followed the Witcher's gaze and spotted them: tracks. Not the cloven hooves of a devil, but something that looked almost like horse prints, if horses had feet that were somehow more delicate, more precise.
"Sylvan," Geralt said with the confidence of someone who'd spent decades identifying tracks. "Intelligent, territorial, and definitely not a devil."
"Is that good or bad?" Jaskier asked, pulling out a small notebook and beginning to scribble what Viktor could only assume were song lyrics.
"It's complicated," Renfri answered. "Sylvans are clever enough to be reasoned with, but proud enough to be offended by the attempt."
Viktor stared at the tracks and felt the weight of approaching destiny. Somewhere ahead of them was Torque, the sylvan who'd been forced into alliance with the elves through threats against his family. Soon they would encounter Filavandrel and his band, would face questions about mercy and justice that had no easy answers.
But this time, Viktor wouldn't be stumbling through events blind. This time, he had resources, allies, and the hard-won knowledge that the right words at the right moment could change everything.
"Let's go meet our devil," Viktor said, shouldering his pack and checking his potion supplies one final time.
Behind him, Jaskier continued scribbling in his notebook, his voice carrying snatches of melody as he worked on what would probably become their theme song:
"When the prophet sees the truth,
And the princess draws her blade,
When the Witcher seeks his proof,
That's when legends... something... made..."
Viktor groaned, but he was smiling as he followed Geralt's lead toward whatever complications awaited them in the hills above Posada.
At least this time, they'd have a soundtrack.
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