Ten days had passed in the blink of an eye since that audience.
That night, in the underground crypt of Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery, between the village of Francollarts and Beauclair Port...
"Hah!"
With a sharp cry, Angoulême darted past a ghoul and severed its head with an exquisite stroke. The monster stumbled forward a few more steps before collapsing.
This was the third ghoul the young apprentice had slain. With the assistance of potions and equipment, she was getting an early taste of a witcher's fighting style and had successfully managed to defeat three opponents single-handedly.
Once the battle was over, she wiped the sweat from her brow, turned around with puffed cheeks, and demanded an explanation from Victor.
"You said three days! Then it was another three days, and another three after that! Captain, it's already the tenth day!"
"Just be patient a little longer. Don't get worked up. We should find him soon. I didn't know there were so many cemeteries around Toussaint either. Anyway, make the most of this opportunity to get some practical combat experience!"
The truth was that Victor couldn't remember which cemetery Regis was hiding in, so he had no choice but to resort to the tedious method of searching them one by one.
"That's exactly what you said three days ago at Orlémurs Cemetery..."
"Shut up! Have some faith in your captain. This time, definitely! I promise that if we haven't found Regis in another three days, I'll put the backup plan into action!"
Angoulême wrinkled her nose and snorted a few times to clear away the stench of the ghouls before continuing forward to clear the path.
"All right, I'm not actually in that much of a hurry! It's just that when we saw de la Croix's body this morning, Damien looked so miserable he practically had smoke coming out of his ears. I almost felt sorry for him. If he hadn't already gone bald, he'd probably be losing his hair by the handful!"
Following behind her, Victor remained silent, mentally reviewing the information he had gathered.
Count Louis de la Croix, the Beast's third victim, had amassed a considerable fortune through the grain trade, earning himself the nickname "Sir de la Stingy."
Early that morning, a crayfish fisherman named Linus had reported discovering his dismembered corpse tangled in his fishing nets in the shallows of a river.
Victor had rushed to the scene as soon as he got out of bed and examined the body alongside Damien.
The main evidence suggesting that Count de la Croix was another victim of the Beast consisted of wounds to his rib cage. They had been inflicted by long claws and were also the immediate cause of death.
No other objects or footprints were discovered near the corpse.
It was only during Victor's autopsy that he retrieved a small pouch of coins from the count's throat.
The discovery prompted Damien to recall de la Croix's obsessive love of money and the various absurd statements he had made.
Count de la Croix had proclaimed that modern knights faced challenges different from those of their predecessors. The Five Chivalric Virtues were obsolete relics of a bygone age, and knights should embrace a sixth virtue suited to the modern era: entrepreneurship.
Thus far, all three victims had once been knights, and not one of them had been a model of the ideals revered by the Duchy of Toussaint.
Every one of them had betrayed the Five Chivalric Virtues: honor, wisdom, generosity, valor, and compassion.
After discussing the matter with Victor and identifying a possible common thread connecting the victims, Damien excitedly returned to the palace to report their conclusion.
For Victor, however, the answer had been obvious from the very beginning.
His actual preparations involved secretly assigning Horace and Guillaume to investigate nearby manors and castles, looking for any that had recently acquired a substantial number of armed men.
...
Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery was unexpectedly vast, its numerous tombstones covered in dust and its burial chambers crowded together.
While the witcher reflected on his plans, the Phantom Troupe continued deeper into the crypt.
"Vic, are you upset because you couldn't prevent the third murder?" Angoulême asked casually.
The witcher shook his head.
"Each of them brought death upon himself. There's nothing worth dwelling on. Besides, before de la Croix died, I couldn't even remember who the victim was supposed to be."
"Won't that make us look pretty bad, though? The duchess summoned us to investigate these murders, but people are still getting killed one after another."
"Don't worry. The killings will stop for the time being. Although I don't know who the fourth victim is, I'm certain he'll appear at the palace during next month's knightly tournament. And as long as we prevent the fourth murder, the fifth won't happen."
"You said these crimes were being committed under the pretense of upholding the Five Virtues. The purpose of the ritual killings is to convince the people of Toussaint that the victims were wicked people who violated the chivalric code. So the fifth victim must be extremely important, right?"
"Precisely. Once the Beast's first four victims have convinced people that they were murdered because they lacked the corresponding virtues, everyone will automatically assume the fifth victim was killed for lacking compassion. That will conceal the real reason for her death..."
This explanation was rather complicated, and Angoulême found herself thoroughly confused.
"A prophet, are you!? I must say, I'd be most interested in hearing your thoughts on the Beast, sir."
A gentle male voice echoed through the crypt, its source impossible to determine.
The moment Angoulême heard it, her eyes lit up, and she shouted at the top of her lungs.
"Is that you, Regis? It's me, Angoulême! Have you forgotten me? We stormed Stygga Castle together!"
The girl's exuberant greeting instantly shattered the mysterious atmosphere surrounding the newcomer, while also ruining the air of prophetic mystique the witcher had so carefully cultivated.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
He had gray hair, black eyes, and pale skin. Deeply receding hair formed a pronounced widow's peak, while his gaunt cheeks gave his face a sharply defined appearance.
Yet the features that should have made him seem cold and unsettling instead inspired a peculiar sense of reassurance, thanks to the gentle clarity of his eyes.
He looked like an ordinary man.
More precisely, he resembled a country doctor who carried the scent of herbs wherever he went.
It was also worth mentioning that a set of barber's tools hung beside his herbal satchel.
"Oh, my dear Angoulême. I must tell you that even with a witcher accompanying you, wandering among graves at night is hardly a habit I would recommend."
...
Built against the mountainside in the Baroque style, the observation terrace of Beauclair Palace was surrounded by white stone columns and offered a magnificent, unobstructed view.
At night, anyone standing there could take in the entire city's glorious panorama, with its countless lights illuminating the darkness.
Unfortunately, Viscount Victor Corion of Kaer Trolde was in no position to appreciate the beautiful scenery just yet.
He stood at the foot of the steps leading up to the observation terrace.
Having returned to Beauclair, he was once again granted an audience with its beautiful ruler, Dandelion's beloved Little Weasel, Duchess Anna Henrietta.
She looked down upon the travel-weary witcher from the terrace, her small, delicately upturned nose complementing her deep, clear blue eyes.
Since Victor had arrived close to midnight, this audience was a relatively private affair. Only those closest to Anarietta and a handful of nobles who resided permanently at the palace were present for the conversation.
As it happened, these circumstances suited Victor perfectly.
Before finding Regis and acquiring sufficient leverage for negotiations, he had wanted to avoid drawing Rhenawedd's attention to the Phantom Troupe's arrival.
He was even less interested in waking up in the middle of the night to find Dettlaff standing at the foot of his bed, demanding that he get the hell out of Toussaint immediately.
At the foot of the steps, the witcher finished paying his initial respects to the duchess.
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