The day after the fire in the Trade Quarter of Nilfgaard City, in the royal palace of Redania, Philippa Eilhart, the Jewel of the Court at Tretogor, was communicating her latest plan to several members of the Lodge of Sorceresses through a far-seeing mirror.
There were fewer attendees this time, only Kaedwen's royal adviser, Síle de Tansarville; the grand duchess of Dol Blathanna, Francesca Findabair; and the Nilfgaardian court sorceress, Assire var Anahid.
"…Síle, Francesca, Assire, here I must first admit my own mistake. Through his marriage to Adda the White, the little one has won Foltest's support from behind the scenes. Now almost all the nobles of the Tretogor court have fallen to his side.
"Those fools have completely forgotten who supported this storm-tossed country over the past few years! The situation has changed very quickly. I fear the plan we discussed before must begin at once!"
Although Philippa still maintained excellent bearing as she spoke, whether it was Síle, Assire, or Francesca, all of them could sense the anger and powerlessness between her brows.
Wearing a velvet gown decorated with black pearls, Síle nodded without hesitation. "Phil, don't mind those idiots. I'll begin searching for a suitable candidate and arrange a detailed action plan for him. You should find the right moment to extricate yourself from Redania as quickly as possible! But speaking of that, are you not planning to let more people participate in this matter?"
"We'll make the preliminary preparations first, then communicate with them. At present, the newly reappeared Geralt occupies all of Triss's attention. Keira is busy sorting out the aftermath of the nonhuman riots, and Margarita clearly won't like this matter. As for Fringilla…"
Philippa paused slightly there.
"I'll inform her," Assire said calmly on the surface, though in truth she was worrying about Cantarella's disappearance.
For Carthia to have been placed beside Vattier to gather information, she was undoubtedly a very talented child. The sudden fire in the Trade Quarter troubled the sorceress greatly.
Francesca Findabair, who had been the world's most beautiful woman for the past few centuries, nodded. "Understood! Madam Owl, your consideration is indeed very thorough. Allow me to convey this, our dragon-slaying saint, Saskia, is eagerly awaiting your arrival. She urgently needs your help to win the support of more people and establish the foundation of her rule in Vergen."
"Thank you, Francesca." Philippa, her back straight, waved her arm. "I am very glad to know… that there are still places willing to listen to wise counsel and advice. Since the existing powers refuse to acknowledge the value of foresight, it is time to seize a stage of our own.
"Sisters, all for magic!"
"All for magic!" everyone said together.
…
Time flew like an arrow, and the years flowed like water. When nothing happened, time always seemed to pass especially quickly. In the blink of an eye, ten days went by.
At dusk that day in the forests of Upper Sodden, a sparrowhawk circled through the sky. After confirming that the alert perimeter was safe, Catherine descended gracefully onto Angoulême's arm.
Seeing this tacit harmony between human and hawk, Auckes, leaning against a tree trunk, smiled brightly and clapped. Serrit, sitting cross-legged on the ground, propped his cheek in his hand with a wooden face. It was not that he had any opinion about the girl, it was simply his personality.
Applause continued as Auckes said cheerfully, "Catherine really is amazing! Watching this makes me want to raise a sparrowhawk too."
Faced with the praise, the girl lifted the hawk with one hand, gracefully pinched an imaginary skirt with the other, and bowed in thanks.
Shaking his head, Serrit stood and beckoned. "All right, stop wasting time! Angoulême, in today's training course, we will continue studying the techniques of concealment and stealth. The path of shadows permits no slackness. You must constantly improve, or else you'll end up like that idiot Auckes, always getting discovered, and then having no choice but to start killing everyone!"
"Hey! That's narrow prejudice. If you broaden your mind and look at it another way, killing everyone actually counts as a successful infiltration! After all, the result is still that no one discovers you, right?" Auckes smilingly offered his defense.
Serrit's tone was cold. "Shut your mouth! You've trampled all over our predecessors' brilliance. You should know that Miss Angoulême's learning goal is none other than the Viper School's immortal legend, Lord Solid Snake!"
The moment he finished speaking, Auckes collapsed onto the ground with laughter, while Angoulême's face instantly flushed red. That reaction was from anger. After they had become familiar with each other, Serrit's poisonous tongue had fully activated, and he showed the girl no mercy either.
However, the main target of Angoulême's anger was her leader, Victor. Although she had long known that when the youth became interested, he would start talking nonsense and was three parts similar to Dandelion, she had never expected that he would actually fabricate history, spinning a complete pile of nonsense from beginning to end.
So a few days ago, Angoulême, who had been completely taken in, chatted with the Viper School witchers and said she wanted to learn their concealment techniques because she greatly admired their predecessor, Solid Snake!
Not noticing the puzzled glances the three men exchanged, the girl recounted the nonsense the youth had once told her, speaking of it as if she knew every detail by heart.
The great Viper School witcher, Solid Snake, possessed extraordinary wisdom and could speak the languages of six countries. Several times, he infiltrated Nilfgaard to sabotage super-giant golems, waged an epic shadow war against Liquid Snake, and founded Redania's renowned royal spies.
Because of these achievements, people called him the legendary mercenary, the legendary hero, and the man who made the impossible possible!
Even now, Angoulême still found it hard to let go of the scene after she finished speaking that day. Auckes had pounded a tree while laughing wildly until he almost lost his breath, granite-like Letho had slapped his thigh and laughed heartily, and even Serrit had turned his head aside with the corner of his mouth raised.
Fortunately, although it had been embarrassing, the result was still good. After hearing such a wonderful story, the Viper School witchers all expressed willingness to train Angoulême and turn her into a second legendary Solid Snake.
Thus, over these days, aside from helping gather alchemical materials, she had been apprenticing herself and studying the techniques of concealment and stealth.
After several days, although Angoulême herself felt there were still many tricks she needed to learn, Serrit and Auckes were actually both amazed by her talent. She was practically a born assassin. Although they did not tell her for fear she would become arrogant, they secretly held her to a higher standard.
…
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
, Assassin's Creed
…
While Angoulême was undergoing training, at dusk on the banks of the Yaruga, three tents had been set up.
The Viper School witcher, Letho of Gulet, sat cross-legged in meditation before one of the tents, his steel sword and silver sword placed beside him, guarding the person inside from being disturbed.
And on the signboard outside the tent, Victor's Alchemy Workshop was nailed in eye-catching letters. Beneath it hung another sign, Alchemy in Progress! Do Not Disturb! Below that was yet another wooden board, Trespassers Really Will Explode! Not Kidding.
As for the bursts of excited singing coming from inside, the words could be heard clearly, "Snowflakes drift and scatter, northern winds howl and batter, beneath heaven and earth, a boundless white world!"
Although he did not quite understand the meaning of the lyrics, judging from the melody, the singer was in an excellent mood at the moment. A faint smile appeared at the corner of Letho's mouth. Counting the time, exactly ten days had passed since he had made the alchemical request. Hopefully, Victor really had made breakthrough progress.
Opening his eyes and picking up his silver sword, the witcher rose and walked toward the riverbank, where several drowners were gurgling as they crawled ashore to search for food.
During this period, the Phantom Troupe and the Viper School had temporarily settled beside the Yaruga, because developing Northern Wind was not something that could be completed in a few moments. Victor had requested ten days from Letho to reason out the answer.
In truth, after analyzing the components of Northern Wind, gathering the materials was not difficult. The main requirements were only four items, saltpeter, Ducal water, powdered pearl, and allspice. Everything else was supplementary. The difficulty lay in the complex preparation procedure and the ratio of the raw materials.
After receiving the incomplete formula and the materials Letho provided, Victor referred to the method he had used at the Temple of Melitele to create Megatron. That very night, inside the tent, he used his unbelievable alchemy to point directly to the result, successfully recreating the Northern Wind that had been lost for a hundred years. Then he began reverse-engineering the production process from the finished bomb.
The next day, the debut test explosion of the first-generation Northern Wind thoroughly shocked the three Viper School witchers. They had originally thought this commission would require at least several days. No one had expected there to be a finished product the next day, and its effectiveness was not inferior at all to the records in the old texts. As long as the standard production process could be established afterward, they would already be very satisfied.
However, to Victor, the test result was unsatisfactory in both radius and power. It could even be called deeply disappointing. This broken thing was absolutely not the Northern Wind in his heart!
A gaseous low-temperature effect with a radius of one yard, whose frostbite power dropped sharply as the range expanded, and at a distance of three yards, it had already weakened to the point that cold-resistant leather clothing could block it. Compared with the game's effect of completely freezing monsters stiff and even allowing them to be shattered, it was utterly incomparable.
Thus, although Party A felt the goods were ready for delivery, Party B refused to ship them. He demanded a ten-day extension for optimization, assigned Party A to gather several specific materials, and then hid in the tent without showing himself.
After Angoulême gave them a rough explanation, the three Viper School witchers finally understood this little Wolf School brother's craftsmanship. Fortunately, their journey north had not been especially urgent in the first place. As an emergency reserve, making an even stronger Northern Wind was naturally a good thing.
…
The silver sword in his hand flashed in and out as Letho danced through the slaughter of the drowners. With his supernatural hearing, he faintly heard the lyrics, "…Love what I love, with no regret, this feeling… forever remains… within my heart…" slowly come to an end.
And the instant the song stopped, with the tent as its center, brilliant lines of a magic circle suddenly lit across the ground, expanding in an instant to envelop both Letho and the group of drowners.
Falling within the range of the Wheel of Truth, Letho was startled to realize that the Quen shield on his body had abruptly failed, and his silver sword could no longer cut into the drowners' bodies. His powerful frame could not help jolting. But what was even more miraculous was that the clawing, fang-baring drowners had stopped attacking and were standing there in dull confusion.
Before long, when the Wheel of Truth disappeared, the Quen shield reappeared, and the drowners also awakened from their daze.
The flap of the alchemy workshop tent was lifted, and Victor walked out beaming. Seeing the battle scene, he hurriedly shouted, "Hey, Letho, don't kill them all. I need to test the power of Superior Northern Wind!"
Noticing Victor running over, Letho consciously gathered the drowners into a cluster, then suddenly retreated, clearing the stage for Superior Northern Wind.
But contrary to the bald giant's expectations, the youth, holding a tube-shaped blue explosive in his left hand, did not immediately throw it. Instead, he kept waving his right hand, signaling him to pull even farther back.
Letho had no choice but to quicken his steps again. Only when the distance had widened to nearly eight yards did Victor use the Igni Sign to guide the detonation, allowing Superior Northern Wind to fly toward those familiar old friends, the drowners.
Turning around to observe its power, Letho saw an indigo flash. Then his snake eyes widened, because this thing was absurdly powerful.
Based on visual estimate, it had a freezing radius of one yard, effective lethality within two yards, and gaseous low temperature within three yards. With one explosion, the remaining five drowners all lost the ability to fight. Its high-efficiency area could almost be compared with Grapeshot, and its effectiveness against heavy armor would definitely not be poor.
Many imagined applications flashed through his mind in an instant. Letho stepped forward and cleaned up the remaining monsters in a few strikes, then turned and gave Victor a thumbs-up.
…
Some time later, after slightly tidying away the alchemical materials brought by the drowners, the snake and the wolf sat on the riverbank and admired the afterglow of sunset.
"Thank you. I didn't expect it to really take only ten days."
"Lucky operation. The main things were parsley leaves and verbena. Those two materials played a huge role. Testing ingredient compatibility is like this. If you're lucky, it goes very quickly."
Victor said it very calmly, but Letho also understood the craft. Naturally, he knew that if producing a finished product were that simple, Northern Wind would not have been lost for so many years.
This little Wolf School brother was a true alchemist, and perhaps had other secrets as well. In his heart, Letho guessed that the youth had grasped some kind of magic. From the magic-sealing circle to the bomb's power, only magic could have such miraculous effects.
However, he would not pursue the details. The secret to maintaining friendship had never included prying into the other person's secrets. When the other party was willing to speak, he would naturally know.
Facing the setting sun, Victor began delivering the items one by one. "Here, take it. The formula for Superior Northern Wind. There are five matching samples here. If you follow the formula, there should be no problem making it.
"Then this is Super Northern Wind, something I made in a burst of accidental inspiration. There are only three in total. I'll give you two and keep one for myself. I can't mass-produce this, and I can't explain the production method either. Keep it for a critical moment."
Staring at the blue bomb in his palm, shimmering with flowing light, the bald giant remained expressionless. "Tsk! There's even a limited-edition bonus. How powerful is it?"
"Heh heh heh hahahaha. Beneath heaven and earth, a boundless white world!? …Probably. In any case, the range is wider and the lethality is stronger. I haven't thrown it either, so I don't know, but it's definitely several times stronger than Superior Northern Wind."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The water murmured. For a brief moment, the two were calm and speechless.
Picking up a pebble, Victor threw it far into the center of the river.
"…Is there anything else you need my help with?"
Watching the last trace of light at the edge of the sky dim, Letho's powerful body remained motionless as a mountain.
"No. We can handle the rest ourselves."
"Really nothing?"
"Really nothing."
"…All right."
That night, the Phantom Troupe and the Viper School once again held a joint drinking banquet. This time, the five of them drank until midnight.
…
At noon the next day, when Angoulême woke from her hangover, the three Viper School witchers had already left. Thus, all along the road south toward Toussaint, she complained that Victor had not woken her up to say goodbye.
"Relax. They can all understand. You're not a witcher. It's normal that you couldn't get out of bed." Yawning, Victor sat leisurely on horseback.
Lightly tugging the reins to control Amber's speed, Angoulême said, "Please! They taught me a lot over these days. They count as half my teachers, at least. And witcher work is so dangerous. Maybe one day something happens and the person is gone. If you can say goodbye, you should say it properly."
Victor snorted with laughter. "Hey, you make that sound like a curse. Did Serrit offend you by running his mouth like Lambert? Don't worry. I feel the job they're going to do is challenging, but Letho still knows what he's doing."
"You know they're going to do dangerous work? What are they going to do?"
"My prophetic ability isn't omniscient. How would I know what they're going to do? But like you said, witchers don't have easy jobs. And judging from the things Letho ordered from me, I guess it should be some kind of flying monster, with extremely hard skin, capable of resisting Grapeshot and Dancing Star. That's why they need Northern Wind, along with other supporting tools."
"Since they helped us before, why not ask them for the details? I think I'm someone with combat ability now too!"
"Letho didn't want to say. Maybe he's certain they can handle it, or maybe he felt there was no need to involve us. When I asked and he wasn't willing to talk, I could only choose to respect that.
"Respecting the other person's decision, and not prying into the other person's secrets, is the secret to maintaining friendship."
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