Early the next morning, at Vizima Harbor, the Trinidad, fully loaded with Redanian medical staff, raised its sails and departed. They would follow the Pontar River back to the academy city, Oxenfurt.
"Victor watched the sails vanish into the distance. Suddenly, he felt an emptiness in his chest. Perhaps that ship had taken away not only Shani, but also his heart."
"…!?"
Taking off his sunglasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, Victor glanced sideways at Angoulême with an expressionless face. "As expected of you. This narration actually has feeling. You sound like a bard, the kind who specializes in short romance plays. Do I need to arrange a rich course of further study for you?"
Hearing such a terrifying punishment, Temeria's freshly minted honorary knight's eyes rolled around, then she turned her head and innocently began to whistle.
"Tsk!" The witcher withdrew his sharp gaze. Although this girl was asking for a beating in every possible way, she was, after all, his most loyal lackey. A little intimidation to make her know when to stop was enough.
He turned to return to the city, only for his gaze to meet that of an old acquaintance. The man bowed respectfully to Victor.
…
People came and went, and the docks were even more lively than before. Not only had the old fishing trade recovered, but rebuilding the city that had been burned by fire also required a large amount of timber. Murky Waters might become the biggest winner.
Angoulême was keeping watch not far away, feeding raw meat to the sparrowhawk, happily getting along with Catherine.
Meanwhile, the members of Ramsmeat's gang were patrolling the deals on the other side while also protecting their leader.
Meeting again after the uprising, Ramsmeat had adjusted his attitude once more. From being reasonable when they first met, to speaking with him as an equal half a month ago, he now even carried a hint of humility and respect.
His scarred bald head shone in the morning light. As expected of a figure who could thrive in Vizima without ever falling.
After exchanging only a few words, Victor already owed him a favor, because Dandelion had actually left with his help.
At the start of the nonhuman uprising, the drunken bard in the Hairy Bear had been sent out of the city by Ramsmeat's men. Now, no one knew where he was enjoying himself, freeloading food and drink, a perfect example of a scourge surviving for a thousand years.
Reciprocity demanded a response. The witcher also casually asked after the few Ramsmeat's gang members he knew, only to learn that Black Dog had unfortunately died during the incident. Thinking back to how the man had guided him on a visit last year, and how he had given him a generous tip, Victor could not help sighing over the impermanence of life.
The two chatted for a while and settled the Zerrikanian explosive powder business. Just as they were about to discuss the price of saltpeter, Ramsmeat suddenly fell silent. After bowing, he led his men away without a sound.
Turning around, Victor frowned. So it was this troublesome fellow. No wonder Ramsmeat's gang had left. The newcomer was a thin, bald man wearing a monocle, and beside him was another woman with her collar wide open, someone Victor also knew.
Temeria's intelligence chief, Thaler, and the Blue Stripes' deputy commander, Ves, the woman who did not button up, the female investigator, or perhaps the female thug with stress balls.
The two walked up to Victor. Unlike their careless dismissiveness last year, Ves now looked interested. She bowed formally, then circled around the witcher and walked toward Angoulême.
Thaler nodded with a smile. "Please don't mind her. Ves is very curious about just how excellent Knight Angoulême is, and why she refused the Blue Stripes. So when she learned I was coming to visit, she took the initiative to come along."
Watching Ves walk to Angoulême's side and start a conversation from the sparrowhawk, with the two women soon laughing and chatting, Victor shook his head.
"How did you know I was here?"
"Because Madam Shani left today. Please don't misunderstand. I haven't forgotten your warning, keep my distance from her. My concern for the doctor is purely for your sake."
With his arms crossed over his chest, the witcher's voice was gloomy. "For some reason, hearing you say that only makes me feel even more uncomfortable…"
"No need to be so guarded. I don't intend to use you for anything, at least not right now. Especially after Knight Angoulême's statement made it clear that you will soon leave Temeria. That has forced me into deep reflection. I truly am a damned bastard, so suspicious and despicable that I only now believe you are a well-intentioned third party!"
"I don't believe a single word you say. You'll only feel at ease once we've truly gotten out of Vizima. So have mercy. Tell me why you came, or start your performance."
Not far away, Angoulême and Ves seemed to be getting along very happily. They already had their arms around each other's shoulders, looking like plastic sisters.
Thaler pushed up his lenses, which reflected a flash of light.
"All right, all right! I merely judged that you were about to leave, so I came to express respect and the intention of reconciliation. Also, I must remind you that you have already entered the sights of certain figures. What the Phantom Troupe has done for Temeria will not be easily forgotten."
Victor yawned and responded coldly, "If we did anything, then it certainly wasn't for Temeria, but for Vizima. Do you believe me? Although Vizima is Temeria's capital, in my heart, those are two completely different concepts."
"Of course I believe you, because you've said it very clearly. But others may not, especially the Black Sun of the South! (TN: I think the author means Great Sun)
"What you think isn't important. What matters is what others think!
"To be frank, I would actually welcome it if you chose, like Geralt, to serve King Foltest. You could also fulfill your romance with Madam Triss. I believe Madam Keira would also be very happy to work with you!"
Victor raised his eyebrows. No wonder the King's Eyes had once been hated by everyone. This style of making use of intelligence was detestable. Even if it was not coercion, temptation was still annoying, especially when this temptation certainly had not received Keira's own approval. Perhaps before leaving, he should send Batman out to beat him up again?
Noticing the witcher's dangerous gaze, Thaler raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, don't be like that. I was only making a suggestion. It isn't worth getting angry over!"
"You got one sentence backward." Victor chuckled. "What others think isn't important. What matters is what I think!"
Unwilling to waste any more words with Thaler, the leader made a gesture toward his troupe member, indicating that she was free to act from here on and could go fool around with Ves as much as she liked.
The witcher brushed past the intelligence chief. "Sorry, I'm very busy. The things I need to do are piled up like mountains. Goodbye. Although I'd very much like to say we won't meet again, you definitely won't listen to me."
…
When he told Thaler he was busy, Victor had not been lying. He truly was very busy. Not only did gathering materials take time, but everything from exchanging coins and crafting bombs to replenishing potions through alchemy devoured time.
Power had a price. Alchemy was a combat skill where one prepared for a month to go wild for one minute.
…
A few days later, the time was still early morning, but the location had changed to outside the eastern city gate. Angoulême rode Amber and waited at some distance, giving Victor and Keira Metz space to say farewell.
Wearing a blue spaghetti-strap dress, the sorceress stuffed a roll of papers into the witcher's arms and casually helped him tidy his collar. "It took me a long time to find this manuscript mentioning Professor Moreau. The ancient Toussaint map is tucked inside as well. Where did you hear about this person? Aren't you going to give me an explanation? Even searching by name took me this long, yet you were so confident, opening your mouth and declaring that he was definitely in Toussaint!"
Victor smiled with gentle elegance. "Don't ask. If you ask, the answer is prophecy!"
"What kind of third-rate prophecy do you have this time, you bastard?" As naturally as breathing, Keira's hands shifted from tidying his collar to grabbing it.
The savage sorceress could not be provoked, so the witcher decisively followed his heart. "Ahem… no… I was joking. I once heard someone mention it. Apparently, this Professor Moreau once subjected his son to a second round of mutations, turning him into the strongest Griffin School witcher in a century!"
Keira narrowed her eyes and glared at Victor. After reading his mind for a while, she finally released his collar and helped him smooth out the wrinkles. "You're actually not lying. How strange. I clearly smelled the scent of a lie!"
There was no need to answer. Maintaining his smile, the youth quietly listened to the sorceress's instructions.
"…The Duchy of Toussaint is subordinate to Nilfgaard and is currently governed by Anna Henrietta. It's a neurotic fairy-tale kingdom. You shouldn't be in danger there, but you're still exploring a mage's ruins, so you must be careful… Remember, you are not allowed to lose my mage's mark. Also, keep this Eye of Nehaleni safe! It can be used to see through illusions. It may come in handy!"
The Eye of Nehaleni was an illusion-breaking item from the original game, and Victor had coveted it for a long time. He had previously tried asking for it, only to be arrogantly rejected by Keira. He had not expected her to voluntarily take it out now.
Accepting her magic item and her concern, the youth's tone was sincere. "Thank you. Do you need me to bring anything back for you?"
"Bring me red wine. Several bottles of the very best red wine. Est Est and Fiorano rosé are mandatory. As for the rest, choose them yourself." The sorceress was not polite at all.
Toussaint was famous for producing red wine, so this request was not excessive. However, that phrase, choose them yourself, was full of the feeling of a test.
The witcher blinked. "Understood. Please look forward to it!"
Keira gently embraced Victor and touched cheeks with him, then opened a portal and left. From beginning to end, she ignored Angoulême's existence.
…
Leading his horse closer to his companion, Victor looked up at Angoulême. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Don't take it to heart. Keira is actually…"
Seeing the expression on the girl's face, the youth fell silent.
Angoulême sat on Amber's back. "It's blue!" Temeria's honorary knight smiled with incomparable lewdness.
That was right. The world-famous painting, Girl with a Lewd Smile, had once again returned to the world! The youth barely managed to suppress the impulse to launch a flying kick!
Victor leaped onto his horse. "Enough! I know the clothes she wore today are blue. Don't start spouting nonsense again about the tradition of sorceresses and witchers rolling in bed!"
The two horses slowly moved forward. Angoulême curled her mouth in smug triumph, looking as though a god of war had descended. "I wasn't talking about her clothes. I was talking about her attitude toward me! A sorceress I've never spoken to before showed a blue ally aura in Eagle Eye vision. What do you think the reason is?"
Hearing this, the witcher froze and had no response.
The girl then squeezed her eyes at him. "Besides, didn't the two of you already roll in bed a few days ago? The day you yelled that I could forget about getting a raise!"
Victor's eyelids twitched. He had actually forgotten this girl's talent for peeping. If Keira's attitude toward her had been neutral, Angoulême would not have been able to see her. Unfortunately, it was not.
Touching his nose, the grand leader of the Phantom Troupe spoke in a dignified tone. "Vice-leader Angoulême, let's discuss your raise now!"
…
After crossing the Ismena, they followed the Mahakam Mountains south. The Phantom Troupe's journey went smoothly. Passing through Upper Sodden, they reached the banks of the Yaruga and set up camp safely.
Once they crossed the Yaruga tomorrow, they would arrive in the Riverdell Valley. After crossing the mountains again, they would reach the Duchy of Toussaint.
After dinner that night, Victor began stirring alchemy as usual, while Angoulême also sat beside him as usual, reading and chatting idly.
"…Speaking of Toussaint, I'm an expert. Back then, I followed Geralt, Milva, Regis, Cahir, and Dandelion, and we spent the whole winter there… I wonder if the people we knew back then are still around. In the blink of an eye, several years have passed… There was one fellow back then who kept pursuing Milva…"
The witcher smiled and listened as she described how their girl-searching party had gone through untold hardships to cross the war zone and enter Toussaint, and then all the little things that had happened in that beautiful country.
However, these things actually had little connection to Victor's goal. He merely knew, based on his past game experience, that there was a Professor Moreau in Toussaint who could provide the equipment for secondary mutations, allowing a witcher's combat power to ascend.
The consecutive battles against Azar and Jacques had had a great impact on Victor. Although most mages could be described as glass cannons, as long as enough lives were thrown at them, or their openings were seized, they could quickly be dealt with.
But true battle mages were different. Some cultivated both magic and martial skill, while others had extremely refined spells. And because of Ciri, the groups he would frequently deal with in the future would happen to be the most elite mages of all.
If he did not want to always judge other people's moods before acting, then self-reliance and self-improvement were the only path. Professor Moreau's laboratory offered just such an opportunity for ascension.
According to the game's setting, as long as a witcher lay inside a mutation chamber and then endured a crackling storm of lightning and thunder, he would be reborn like Captain America and transform into a super witcher.
For example, choosing sign specialization could turn the Aard Sign's shockwave into an icy palm strike. Physical specialization could harden the skin. Swordsmanship specialization would also make one faster and fiercer. In short, it was absurdly powerful.
Although reality could not possibly be so wonderful, it was clearly a goal with great practical value. Especially that miraculous mutation chamber. If he could completely master the technology behind it, Kaer Morhen's rise would be right before his eyes!
As his ears listened to Angoulême ramble, the stirring rod in his hand never stopped. Over so many days, this had already become a routine.
He did not know whether Vesemir and Leo were still in Toussaint. Hopefully, they were. If so, things would be much easier. Three witchers working together would make matters simpler. They could get it done quickly and then leisurely enjoy Toussaint's beautiful scenery.
As he calculated this wonderful plan in his heart, a seven-colored glow suddenly flashed. Another batch of potion had been completed. Just as he took out test tubes and began bottling it, Angoulême suddenly sprang to her feet, her gaze sharp as an eagle's.
Victor also frowned. His supernatural five senses activated, listening and sniffing the hidden messages carried on the wind. Then his brow relaxed.
He drew in a breath and called loudly, "Letho, Auckes, Serrit, is that you?"
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