When Azar's head, his eyes still open in death, fell to the ground, Victor savored the splendor of the blade's kill. Dopamine flooded his mind in great surges, and astonishing ecstasy pierced through his entire body, spreading from the back of his head all the way to the end of his spine.
"Whoa... ha... hahaha... whoa hahahahahaha!"
The witcher covered his face with his left hand, laughing with wicked, arrogant abandon. "Victory belongs to me, Victor! That has never changed!"
"Hahaha... hahahaha... hahahahahahahaha!" Releasing the tremendous pressure, the young man laughed wildly without stopping.
Yet as he laughed, his voice gradually turned disturbing, and his smile gradually twisted. Suddenly, he could no longer laugh at all. He lowered his head and panted heavily.
After a long while, Victor finally evened out his breathing, raised his head, and recovered his calm. "That was close... I almost followed in the doppler's footsteps!"
In the final moment of his battle with the mage, Victor's solution had been to use the pleasure of a killing streak to forcibly raise his mental strength, then drive the reverse Axii Sign and mind-control Azar Javed.
Although the control still failed, the powerful mental shock was enough to throw the mage into confusion when he was caught unprepared, and victory or defeat was decided in an instant.
He had drawn the Spellbreaker Dagger from his herbal satchel and slashed several times at Azar's neck while the mage was in a dazed state, successfully breaking through the magic armor's barrier, cutting off the mage's head, and ending the chase that had lasted for several months.
The whole sequence had not been difficult to execute, but it had been like walking a tightrope. One careless step would have led to utter ruin.
He had already been in the state of killing-streak pleasure, and with the intense killing pleasure of beheading Azar added on top, for a certain instant just now, everything Victor saw had been blood red. He had almost lost his reason and transformed into a mad killer dominated by desire.
If one could not master one's own desires, then one would become a slave to them.
In short, although the process had been dangerous, he had won in the end. Only the victor had the right to reflect.
With a swing of his hand, he flicked away the bloodstains. Looking at the Spellbreaker Dagger that had rendered such outstanding service in his hand, the witcher was completely satisfied. "You cut him down while facing Alzur's Thunder. From now on, you'll be called Lightning Cutter!"
...
Name: Lightning Cutter
Type: Weapon
Quality: Fine
Attack Power: Strong
Effect: Spellbreaker. Mixed with anti-magic metal, its material interferes with the operation of magic within a certain range.
Traits: Attack speed boost, increased sharpness, increased cutting edge.
Enchantment: None
Note: Ox, Hare, Monkey.
...
Ending his edgelord interlude, Victor put Lightning Cutter back into his herbal satchel and walked toward the laboratory.
Continuing to stay in the cage area was harmful to his mind. The experimental subjects' howls would provoke the urge to draw his sword and slaughter. He remembered that there was a large cauldron in the corner of the laboratory, so he would first use Combat Attunement to consume the wild, uncontrolled killing intent.
As he walked, he took stock of the spellbreaking weapons he had left. The dimeritium bombs were exhausted. Only the Dragon-Slaying Sword and Lightning Cutter remained, and the former still could not be put into actual combat. In other words, if he fought another mage, he would still have to rely on Lightning Cutter as the decisive piece.
The original enchantment on this Spellbreaker Dagger had been made specifically to break armor, whether heavy armor or magic armor.
Yet even as a specialized weapon, it had still taken several fierce strikes to cut open the magic armor. If battle mage Azar was already this ferocious... then it seemed better to leave the mastermind behind the scenes for fate to decide! In any case, Foltest had enough resources to bury him. Victor would simply keep his distance for safety.
He righted the overturned cauldron, lit the fire, and boiled water. While waiting, Victor began collecting research materials and trophies. Needless to say, all the research materials had to be recovered, including the Grass formula and every record of the mage's abusive results.
As for trophies, villains were usually rich. Just like Albert's mansion, this place, as Azar's base, also contained many precious materials. Unfortunately, as a mage, his territory had no anti-magic metal.
After clearing several bookshelves in a row, Victor suddenly saw an extremely out-of-place object. It was a small statue of a beautiful woman in white.
With Azar's appearance and personality, putting a collectible figurine in his laboratory was such a ridiculous contradiction that it deserved every complaint in the world. Victor picked it up and examined it closely. It did somewhat resemble Keira Metz. Could the Zerrikanian have had a secret crush on her?
Discarding that absurd possibility, his memory was abruptly stirred. After trying and failing to put it into his herbal satchel, Victor looked at the statue in his hand and smiled from the bottom of his heart. "I'm truly glad you're still alive, Keira!"
...
At the same time, on a hill somewhere outside Vizima.
The Professor of Salamandra and several high-ranking members of the gang stood respectfully behind a man and a woman, waiting silently. Their usual fierce expressions had been wiped clean, and they looked entirely deferential.
Because the man was Viscount Eiddon, Vattier de Rideaux, the head of Nilfgaardian intelligence, and the woman was the sorceress Assire var Anahid.
De Rideaux brushed a hand over his refined beard. "So much time has already passed. Azar... has something happened, or does he have other ideas?"
Ignoring the viscount's question, the sorceress took out a silver mirror and confirmed that there were no flaws in her makeup. She knew he was not expecting her answer.
Taking the voice-transmission box from the Professor, De Rideaux opened it and asked in a low voice, "Mage, where are you? Tidying up the materials should not take this long. Hurry over and rendezvous with us!"
After more than ten seconds, an indistinct voice came from the other end of the voice-transmission box. "...I have thought it over. The original amount is not enough. I believe these precious materials should be worth more..."
Without replying again, the spy chief threw the voice-transmission box onto the ground, smashed it, and crushed it underfoot.
Assire laughed softly. "What is this? Why are you so angry? I think what he said is very reasonable. Those materials are indeed quite valuable."
"No matter how valuable they are, it is useless now. Azar is finished. The one speaking was not him at all, only someone trying to probe for information. Although the content of the speech was reasonable, I had an agreement with Azar. Every sentence had to include our titles when we addressed one another," De Rideaux said coldly.
The sorceress looked at several columns of smoke in the city. "I see... it may have been Keira or Triss who acted. It is truly hard to believe that with Vizima already fallen into chaos, they still had the strength to intervene and capture a battle mage!"
"None of that matters anymore. But does the scene before us make you think of anything?"
"You mean... the Burning Omen!?"
Viscount Eiddon, De Rideaux, loosened his collar slightly. "Does this not look like Temeria burning? As for the day the White Wolf awakens, our poor Professor fled from under his sword not long ago."
The Professor still stood there respectfully with his hands lowered, as if the person the viscount was talking about was not him.
The sorceress Assire narrowed her eyes. "Whoreson Junior died even earlier. This is indeed very interesting! Without realizing it, the prerequisites of the prophecy have all been assembled. Whether the Elder Blood will truly return, I believe His Imperial Majesty will want to know."
The spy chief opened his pocket watch to check the time, then gestured to the sorceress. "Time is up. Azar is finished, Roderick has been arrested. Open a portal. We are going back!"
Assire smiled as she cast the spell, and the portal opened with a roar.
...
In the underground cavern laboratory.
Hearing crackling static from the other end of the voice-transmission box, followed by no further response, Victor casually tossed it aside.
He had originally planned to listen and see who Azar intended to deliver the materials to. He had not expected the other party to be so vigilant, cutting the line the moment something felt wrong. With such high professional standards, was it a Redanian agent or a Nilfgaardian spy?
Perhaps they also had conversational codes, just like Keira and himself, Michelangelo and da Vinci respectively.
But if he failed to extract information, he failed. The witcher did not care. He crouched back down and shoveled the pile of anti-magic metal filings he had swept together into the cauldron by the handful.
The red-eyed state was mentally exhilarating, and the power of his Signs became fierce, but the feeling of being on the verge of losing control was also very uncomfortable. Therefore, the most urgent task was to use Combat Attunement to recover his calm, while also making a tool to rescue Keira Metz.
That was right. The beautiful figurine on the bookshelf just now was Keira Metz. The fact that it could not be put into the herbal satchel proved that she was alive, while the statue's appearance was the result of the Artifact Compression spell.
The Artifact Compression spell, also called the human compression spell, was a powerful spell that could wrap the target in a jade-like shell and shrink them into a statue small enough to hold in one hand.
Victor had seen introductions to this spell in the libraries of Kaer Morhen and Ban Ard. However, the reason he remembered it so deeply was because there were two statuettes in the game that Triss could turn back into their original forms.
At the time, Triss's spellcasting motions were very sensual, and as a player, he found them quite pleasing to watch.
In short, since this was a type of stasis sealing spell, then a certain tool made with anti-magic metal as its foundation should be able to restore Keira to her original form.
Inserting the stirring rod, Victor concentrated and activated Combat Attunement. In that instant, his Rinne-Sharingan spun, the blood color in his eyes completely receded, the Wheel of Truth appeared and vanished at once, and the cauldron shone with rainbow light.
He was somewhat pleased with himself as he observed the freshly made epic item. Then a familiar voice suddenly came from behind him.
"Truly unbelievable. This unique alchemy, and the pattern that flashed across the ground just now, are both very interesting. If expanded further, it should become a beam of light piercing the sky.
"So I would guess that you are Handsome Guy by the Sea, the one who gave Azar and the others their revelation?"
With his back to the door, Victor felt his blood freeze into ice.
That familiar voice continued, "For a long time, I have been watching you, Victor Corion. By my count, this is the sixth time we have met. I have always been looking forward to such an opportunity, one that would allow us to have a proper talk."
Victor took a deep breath and calmed himself. He had originally intended to play dead to the end. The young man truly did not want to face him, because he could not find any way to win. But now it seemed that plans truly could not keep up with change.
He took the item out of the cauldron and, as if nothing had happened, put it into his herbal satchel. Then the witcher turned to look at the other party.
Princess Adda's co-conspirator. The mastermind behind Salamandra. The Grand Master of the Order of the Flaming Rose, Jacques de Aldersberg!
"You do not look surprised at all. It seems Adda has already told you many things."
Still in full plate armor, still upright and stern, the Order's grand master stood there with commanding dignity.
The witcher nodded in agreement. "Yes, Grand Master! When the princess told me, I could hardly believe my ears. The Grand Master of the Order instructed Salamandra to sell weapons to the Scoia'tael, then stirred up racial conflict and caused a city riot. What exactly do you want?"
"Power. The power to control the army. Nothing more," he answered with complete candor.
"Then why make Adda's curse relapse? If she had been present, when the riot broke out, the two of you could have joined forces immediately to control the capital. The king would also have been more likely to release military authority."
"Heh! You truly are very perceptive. You observe carefully, nothing like an ordinary witcher who cares about nothing.
"To put it simply, her curse relapsed because there were too many players on this chessboard. Unfortunately, the plan deviated from its course, yet it was not a complete failure, because I discovered you...
"Victor Corion, miraculous alchemist, join us! The Order of the Flaming Rose needs your power."
"I refuse. I cannot approve of what you have done, causing such a disaster merely for power."
"I need power in order to face the disaster of the future!"
"Disaster!?"
Jacques said, "The White Frost. The White Frost from another world will eventually sweep across this world, dragging everyone into a desperate state of freezing cold, starvation, and scarcity.
"I have wandered through endless time and space, searching for an opportunity to save all humankind. And after failure after failure, I finally found a feasible method."
Jacques's words took a sudden, startling turn. In an instant, they rose from the scale of a single nation and city to the destruction of the world... If Victor had not experienced the games and known that the White Frost truly would come, he would definitely have regarded the Order's grand master as a lunatic right now.
And the content of his words made Victor tremble even more. Wandering through endless time and space. Under the worldview of The Witcher, there was indeed someone like that, the final heir to the Elder Blood, Ciri.
And Jacques... thinking of the absurdly powerful magic in his body... could he be one as well!?
Noticing that Victor's thoughts were elsewhere, Jacques continued, "When the White Frost comes, we will need guardians who fear no cold, who are strong and enduring! That is why I need the witchers' Grass Draught, to create a new breed of mutant humans to protect everyone!"
The keywords in Jacques's words stabbed into Victor. "A new breed of mutants to protect everyone? Guardians who fear no cold, who are strong and enduring? When you make such high-sounding speeches, do you not hear the screams coming from behind you? In my eyes, you are nothing but a monster!"
"Do not roar like a child! Centuries ago, Alzur did something similar. To fight monsters, he created you, witchers, and the severity of the monsters cannot compare at all to the White Frost that is about to come!
"Listen carefully, Victor. Time will eventually tell you that we are right. Only those with vision can defend humanity's eternal interests. Who is human, who is a monster, what truly is evil, and how evil should be overcome!
"The Order was founded to uphold the law, maintain peace, and ensure that we can survive as the White Frost approaches. The way to save the world is in my heart. Join the Order, Victor. We need your alchemical skill to create new mutants, for all humanity."
Victor looked coldly at Jacques.
"The Order has a great dream. Our goal is to establish a new world, a new order that will become inevitable after the White Frost, a place where everyone can live through effort, where the strong support the weak, where crimes are punished appropriately, a paradise with clear principles and noble goals!"
"And Grand Master Jacques, will you decide who may live in the glory of that ideal world?
"No. You are an ambitious demagogue. Your compassionate words are all hypocrisy, hiding a craving for power. After all, you can ignore the suffering happening right before your eyes.
"No, Grand Master Jacques. I do not want that kind of paradise!"
The young man gazed deeply at the Order's grand master.
"I believe the White Frost is dangerous, but if the world can only be saved by this method," Victor shook his head firmly, "then this world is better off destroyed. Believe me, Jacques, there would be nothing worth regretting."
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