The Divine Hunter

Chapter 516: The Plan for Ciri

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

“Unbelievable. For a hundred years, the witcher schools have been in constant decline, yet now you band together for a young man. Seventeen witchers, two sorcerers, and a member of the Skellige Isles’ circle of druids. This is a formidable force. One that is to be reckoned with, and you are still getting stronger with the influx of new witchers.” Yennefer was impressed by the story Geralt told her. “Roy is a visionary. His eye for the future is something you fossils will never learn. So where is he?”

Ciri looked at Geralt too. Ever since she left Goldencheeks’ home, she hadn’t seen Roy, and she missed him. Only when he was around could she ride on Gryphon without any worries.

“Roy has a lot to do,” Auckes answered before Geralt could, holding his shoulder down. He didn’t want Geralt to tell everything to this stranger just because she was his lover. The fewer people who knew about the grandmasters, the better. “His presence here would put us at risk. And please do not talk about his name when you’re out and about.”

“I promise. But when the time is right…” Yennefer shook her head. What a shame. She was curious about the brotherhood, but she was new here, so she should stop before she went too far. “Now let’s get back to business.”

Yennefer patted Ciri’s head and snapped her fingers. The witchers’ medallions buzzed, and a gust of wind closed the curtains, keeping prying eyes from seeing in and making sure no sound went out.

Roy frowned, and the griffin that was hiding under the windowsill charged into the conference hall. Once it squeezed into the room, the beast swiped its tail and shut the wooden door.

It then raised its furry head at the sorceress, the look in its eyes saying, ‘Alright, you have your peace and quiet now. Continue.’

“Gryphon! Here, let me hug you!” Ciri happily leapt onto the griffin’s back and nuzzled herself against its mane. She narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Ignore them.” Geralt massaged his temples. “Continue.”

“How did you find Ciri, Geralt? Rumors have it that the princess of Cintra has died during her escape from her fallen nation.” Yennefer gave the griffin a look. “From what I know, all the northern kingdoms are sending their intelligence teams out to find her. The kings wish to gain the princess so they can gain the support of Cintra’s people and enrich themselves with the wealth of the nation that Nilfgaard has toppled. And Nilfgaard wants to get their hands on the girl as well. They need a member of the royal family who’s malleable so they can rightfully take over Cintra’s rulership. Menno Coehoorn, Cintra’s current governor, is agonizing over this matter.”

Yennefer continued. “Vissegerd, who survived the war, is taking in the refugees with the support of the king of Brugge. He’s gathering an army to reclaim their lost home, and they too are searching for Ciri.”

The princess’ smile disappeared, and she felt trepidation setting in her heart. Quietly, she leaned against Gryphon, feeling its warmth and heartbeat.

“I know, Yen. Even without those people, there are already two men out there searching for her. A knight from Nilfgaard and a sorcerer who looks like a mercenary, but what of it? Destiny still led me to the girl.” Geralt looked at the princess, his face softening up. Ever since he found Ciri, he had decided to never let go of her. Relenting would only invite an even harsher punishment from Destiny, but it would only fall on the girl.

“My brothers and I shall protect her. She can grow without worries under our wing.”

“So that means you’re not going to hand her over to anyone?” Yennefer had a look that said, I knew it.

Yennefer looked at the girl on the griffin’s back, and pity filled her face. “So what’s the plan? Will you raise her like she’s a regular human so she can live her life in peace? Or will you turn her into a witcher like the children? Will you let her take the ridiculous potion made up of proprietary decoctions, special fungus, and shrooms? What then? She’ll undergo that deadly Trial and go through hell for a measly chance at survival? Only three out of ten manage to become witchers, as I’m sure you know.”

“I-I want to be a witcher!” shouted Ciri. She leapt down from the griffin and quickly approached Geralt. The girl held his hand and swayed his arm, pleading, “I want to be a swordsperson like Geralt. A monster hunter!”

“You foolish girl!” Yennefer narrowed her eyes and held Ciri’s other hand, pulling her closer. “You do not know what this means at all. You are still young, and you require proper guidance to train your powers. Taking potions and decoctions to gain strength is not the best way to go about this!”

Shocked by Yennefer’s imperious command, the girl took a few steps back until she could barely smell the lilac and gooseberries coming off her.

Geralt fell into a dilemma. After a discussion with the brotherhood, he did consider having Ciri undergo witcher training and become the first girl to go through the mutation. The dangers awaiting her were many and lethal. She must have enough strength to protect herself, but they hadn’t started preparations yet.

“There’s nothing wrong with the potions. After Lytta and Kalkstein’s modifications, the Trial is perfectly safe now.” Auckes crossed his arms, puffing his chest out. He was a little displeased, and he looked at Yennefer quizzically. “You seem to have a deep-set prejudice against witchers.”

“I am just stating the facts.” Yennefer smiled arrogantly and held the edges of Ciri’s cheeks gently. “Open your mouth and say ‘Aahh’.” The sorceress checked Ciri’s teeth like she was a horse.

Ciri quickly shook her head free of the sorceress and harrumphed, trying to bite her hand. Yennefer grabbed the girl’s cheeks and pulled on them like they were balls of dough. “She’s just ten. Barely starting to grow. Your potions will affect her body’s growth, akin to forcing a chick to grow into a chicken in mere weeks. Yes, she will grow faster, but at the expense of her potential, just like you, Geralt.”

Yennefer looked at her long-lost lover and sighed. “You used to be a Source, but that mutation back when you were a child destroyed your potential. Witcher potions will scramble her hormones and fry her endocrine system. Heavy physical and swordsmanship training will also change the composition of her body and muscles. It’ll also take away her feminine physical traits. Ciri will grow up hating you for this, do you understand?”

Geralt looked away.

“My only job is to educate Ciri. If you don’t mind, how about I start her first session right now?” Yennefer looked at the witchers and held Ciri’s hand. “You can introduce the other members and the kids to me at dinner.”

***

Roy was done watching the exchange. He cut off the vision and descended the staircase that led into a brightly-lit lab.

A curvaceous sorceress in a black dress stood before the Arcane Enchanter, colorful chaos energy swirling around her fingers, runes covering a perfectly shining plate armor in the center of the table.

That was the plate armor Eorlund made for Roy back in Skyrim. The one birthed by the Skyforge and came with 40% fire resistance.

“Ah, just in time.” Noticing Roy’s presence, Lytta motioned at him to come closer. “Try your new armor on. I changed the enchantment into Halo of Flames. It’ll cover you with a layer of an invisible barrier of flames once activated. Anyone who gets close to you will be damaged over time. You, of course, are exempt from this effect. Whenever the effect is not in use, the armor will absorb the chaos energy lingering in the air. Once fully charged, the armor can last for half an hour.”

“That is outstanding enough, Coral.” Roy took off his leather armor, and Lytta straightened out his collar for him.

“Evelyn has replanted thirty types of Skyrim herbs, but she’ll need to grow them for a year or two before they can be used in any concoction.” Coral straightened out his sleeves and collar as she gently told him what the brotherhood’s members were doing.

“Letho and Kiyan have made modifications to Thunderbolt using the herbs you brought back. That’s the first decoction they worked on. Its effect is now raised by twenty percent. Vesemir has almost figured out the process behind the making of this set of armor, but we do not have the skills to recreate it, let alone turn the dragon scales and bones into anything usable. We are in dire need of a master armorsmith.”

Time to seek out Berengar, I guess.

Noticing the look on Roy’s face, Coral said, “While you and Geralt were searching for Ciri, Vesemir had taken off to Vizima to search for Berengar, but the lone Wolf is still traveling across the continent. He will not return for a year or two.”

Roy rubbed his chin and tried his best to come up with the names of any possible swordsmith and armorer. Since the timeline wasn’t there yet, he had no idea where Hattori, Novigrad’s famed elven blacksmith, and Yoana, the blacksmith of Velen, could be found.

The only place he knew that housed master armorers was the Skellige Isles. On the isle of Undvik, a clan by the name of Tordarroch stood tall. They had the most talented blacksmiths and the best forges on their side. Just as well, Roy was traveling to Skellige soon to investigate Ortolan and find a lead on Idarran. He could deal with two matters at the same time, so he told Coral about his plan.

“Visenna had news for us. Suspected sightings of the red light in the druid circle in Mayena and the one near Sodden. The culprit is still unknown.”

Roy nodded. The cleansing light was not a threat to them just yet, so he was not worried. “Ah, almost forgot. Yennefer has arrived at the orphanage. You can talk to her when you see fit.”

“Oh, the raven-haired woman from Vengerberg.” Lytta’s eyes glinted.

“You know her?”

“Acquaintances, I’d wager, but she’s an arrogant woman. Hard to approach.” Lytta brushed a finger across Roy’s cheek. “Heard it’s because of her modification. Went too far into the deep end and modified her personality. First me, then Triss, and now Yennefer.” Lytta took on a quizzical tone, her eyes fixed on Roy. “What are you thinking, dragging us all into your brotherhood? We know each other.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way.” Roy shook his head quickly. “Yennefer and Geralt had some entanglements between them to settle, so … so I lent them a hand.”

Coral bought the story, though only just. “Now that the Battle of Sodden Hill is over, can I go back to the brotherhood and Aretuza?”

That shocked Roy. “Why are you going back?” The witcher was a little uneasy about her departure.

“I didn’t sell myself to the brotherhood. Even witchers get to enjoy a hot bath and good wine during their downtime. Sorcerers get to take a little break to enjoy the success of their experiments, don’t you think?”

Rou couldn’t argue with that.

“Don’t worry. I’m just going to see some old friends, then I’ll be back. They’re all ladies.” Coral rested her head on Roy’s shoulder.

Roy looked at her soft, flawless face. “Don’t get into any of the organization’s plans. Don’t jump into anything political. And stay away from Tissaia. She’s a stubborn one. Same goes for Philippa Eilhart and everyone in the brotherhood. Especially Vilgefortz and the Daisy of the Valleys.”

“By that you mean Lady Francesca Findabair?”

“Yes. She’s a gorgeous woman, as I’m sure you know, but she’s hiding a big secret underneath her beauty. You’d best stay far, far away from her.” Scoia’tael should show themselves soon. “I’ll explain next time.”