The Divine Hunter

Chapter 522 - 522: Purification



Chapter 522: Purification

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

Dawn was almost breaking through the horizon, a line of white light appearing in the distance. However, the smithy of Clan Tordarroch was still dimly lit, the door and windows shut tightly.

“Are you sure you’re not joking? You can free him of a god’s influence?” Klaf was delighted. “That’s something that hasn’t happened since he was branded.”

“Svalblod can only grant his followers the powers of a bear because It branded their souls. It’s through that mark that It can influence its followers. That means the soul of any Vildkaarl belongs to Svalblod, and that god will gobble them up once they are dead. However, I know a spell to wrest control of a soul and purify it.”

Forced Taming. I can mark Farik’s body and soul with my brand, effectively taking away Svalblod’s control. How about that? Just like a cuckoo. One of his mount slots had Gryphon bound to it, while the other slot had been empty since he cut off that bond with Arvel. He could use that slot. Even if he couldn’t get rid of the evil god’s mark, it was still worth a shot. He could always cut off the bond and give Farik his freedom back.

Roy thought a lot before coming up with this plan. From what he knew, the cult of Svalblod was very small among the isles. It only had a few followers and was banned by the seven families due to their overly cruel and violent ritual. Not to mention Svalblod wasn’t even as powerful as the weakened Dagon or its peer, the Lionheaded Spider.

The young witcher was a lot more powerful as well. It was just the cleansing of a mark, not a frontal battle. Full Recovery was enough to get him out of any situation, and thanks to all those factors, he could try out his theory.

“But I will have to pay a heavy price just for this.” Roy put on a solemn look like he had to give up a lot just for this attempt.

“If you can change him back to how he used to be, you can name any terms, and we’ll do our best to fulfill it.” Klaf clenched his teeth.

“Klaf, you already owe me one for saving Farik. You have to come to Novigrad with me,” Roy said.

“That is true. I do not have any right to negotiate now.” Klaf smiled bitterly.

Roy looked at Chamir. He really wanted more than one blacksmith working for him.

“I know what you’re trying to say, Auckes, but I can’t go with you, I’m sorry. There’s barely any Tordarroch left. If I were to leave, then we might as well disband.” Chamir shook his head glumly.

Roy sighed, but he didn’t push further, then he turned his attention to the young blacksmith.

As if stung by a bee, Klaf fidgeted. “What are you suggesting, Auckes? Not Yoana.”

“It’s alright.” The girl went around her father and looked at the witcher, blinking. She forced herself to stay calm and answered, “If you can lift the curse from Farik, Klaf and I will be your personal blacksmiths.”

The witcher gave her a satisfied smile. The girl might not be a master blacksmith, but I know her potential. She’s going to be a famous blacksmith in The Crow’s Perch. This is a good deal. “I won’t exploit you two. Equality is what I strive for, and I’ll come up with a fair contract for you.”

Klaf looked a little more at ease. He was really worried Roy might be an exploitative man.

“We can talk about that later. Not like we can run away anyway,” Yoana cut in quickly. “You have to save Farik, now.”

“I need you guys to get me a sturdy chain.”

“For?” 𝐍𝔬𝓥𝑒𝐥𝓝𝐄xt.𝔠𝒪𝑚

Roy looked at the sleeping Farik. “I need to chain him down.”

***

Fifteen minutes later, the unconscious Farik was chained to a chair, courtesy of his brothers. However, he was unaware of it. He was asleep and pale.

“You sure this can work, Auckes?” Chamir frowned, his eyes glinting with suspicion. “Nothing bad will come to him, right?”

“He’ll live, so don’t worry about it.” The witcher cracked his fingers and circled the chair. “But make sure you’re absolutely quiet. No matter what happens, no matter how much he screams and cries, do not step in. You might ruin everything. Worst case scenario? He ends up dead or crippled. Not my fault if that happens.”

Klaf and Chamir exchanged a look, and they nodded with resolve.

“You saved him anyway. Just do what you have to.”

Roy took a deep breath and gazed at his target, then he concentrated on his character sheet.

‘Tame

Mount (?): You have bound Gryphon to one of your mount slots.’

***

The blacksmiths watched as Roy placed his right hand on Farik’s forehead, the air around him taking a solemn and majestic feel. He was like an emperor staring at Farik, his eyes shining like suns, as if he wanted to see through the blacksmith and all his memories.

Then, a forceful gale stirred within the room, the flames of the fireplace flickering and swaying. Everyone’s clothes billowed as the gale blew, and the witcher’s cloak flew back into the air, revealing the sturdy chainmail beneath.

An invisible power was forcibly creating a link between his and the blacksmith’s souls. The blacksmith chained to the chair felt something crashing into him. His eyes snapped open, and he glared at the witcher, the look on his face filled with hatred, disgust, and fear, as if the witcher were a beast coming to take his life.

The blacksmiths were shocked by the sudden change, sweat drenching their palms.

Farik’s face contorted, and he convulsed as if he were having an episode of fits. Even his toes sprang straight. He snarled, revealing a row of yellow teeth, and he let out a guttural roar that was filled with pain. His family looked grim, and their hearts sank. He’s in pain.

And then the convulsions became struggles. Farik writhed and wriggled like a snake, the chair slamming against the ground, the screech of the friction almost piercing everyone’s ears. However, the chains of Clan Tordarroch kept him firm in his place. Not even a bear could break free of its bondage, let alone a human.

The witcher then shoved the blacksmith, and he fell toward the ground, his forehead still attached to the witcher’s scalding right hand. Roy’s glimmering eyes met with the blacksmith’s, though the latter’s eyes were rolled back into his head.

Strong winds swirled around the witcher, blowing his hair back, and a bizarre whisper hung in the air, as if someone were chanting indecipherable incantation within the void, the voices echoing in the bedroom, slithering into the minds of all those present. Eventually, the voices and winds merged, forming a ball of red light, slithering and writhing before it charged into Farik’s body.

The blacksmiths had never heard of this language before, but for some reason, they knew what it was saying, and it was trying to say one thing.

Submit.

The voices affected the blacksmith, and they looked at the witcher’s back in confusion at first, but then it was replaced by a look of worship. Roy was getting bigger and bigger until he was larger than life. Larger than the seas and skies. Larger than the universe itself.

Farik received the brunt of this spell, his mind turning into a fierce battlefield. It was a dark space akin to the world of meditation. A vague silhouette with Farik’s face was pushed down by another silhouette. Its countenance was as dark as shadow, its eyes flickering crimson, the air around it rife with solemnity.

The silhouette was pushing its will deep into the blacksmith’s soul. Submit. Open your body and soul to me. Offer them up. There will be no secrets or privacy. My word shall be the law you obey, and my will shall be the mission of your life.

The blacksmith felt humiliated. I’m even worse than a pet. And he wished to resist, even if this silhouette was the one who killed the trolls and took him out of the mines. However, his resistance was futile. His body was chained, and his Will was abysmal. Roy’s Will easily crushed his.

It was just a few seconds, but the blacksmith was feeling a crushing defeat coming on. Roy’s will felt like a hurricane, a tsunami, a flood, and every manner of natural disaster. It was suffocating and destructive. No! And the blacksmith’s soul bowed.

***

The blacksmiths noticed that Farik had stopped resisting all of a sudden. The look on his face eased up, but he was drenched in sweat. It’s done?

And then the peace was broken as Farik opened his mouth to roar at the witcher. There was indignation and solemnity in that roar. Farik was rapidly shapeshifting, black fur piercing his clothes, claws protruding through the tips of his limbs, and mouth turning into a snarling snout. He was slowly turning into a menacing bear.

The blacksmiths were once again horrified. Chamir tried to step ahead, but Klaf held him back.

The clash of wills was getting heated. As the blacksmith’s soul bowed to the witcher, another soul hidden within him was enraged. A few balls of fire flared within the dark space and formed a circle with a five-yard radius. Standing outside the ring was the statue of a snarling bear, and behind that statue was a pair of crimson eyes and ghostly-white teeth.

Invigorating drum beats came from within the darkness, riling up the urge to battle sleeping within the human heart.

A stream of crimson light slithered out of Farik’s body, screaming and roaring until it became the fusion of a man and bear. It had a human’s left hand and leg, but on its right was a black bear’s paw. The creature had a bear’s head, but within the maw was the face of Farik, locked behind the bars of the fangs.

That face had not an ounce of serenity, its eyes red and filled with the desire to kill and destroy, the flames flaring within screaming of battle and provocation. “Svalblod! Svalblod! Kill! Kill! Fight! Fight!” the monster roared, challenging the witcher that had been pushing him down.

This was a battle of wills. The witcher could feel a pair of crimson eyes appearing in the void, the silhouette of a fusion between man and bear standing outside, staring at his back. However, the silhouette was a far cry from Melitele, let alone the golden eyes that stared at him back in Skyrim. This god is no threat to me. “You think you can drag me into your ritual? Dream on.”

Roy channeled his power, and his soul shifted shape as well, black scales covering every inch of his body, his limbs turning into sharp claws and a pair of majestic wings, his eyes turning crimson.

Once again, Roy turned his soul into the form of Alduin. At the same time, a ball of crimson light tore through the void behind Alduin, and a bloody octopus wriggled out, charging at the roaring man-bear. The octopus went on top of it and coiled around its limbs, shackling the monster. No matter how it tried to fight back, it could not break free.

The dragon walked ahead and pressed down on the evil god with its wings. Then it opened its snout, revealing its rows of fangs and a whirlpool of power swirling in its throat.

Fus!

The power behind that shout vaporized the bear, turning it into a cloud of blood.

“Svalblod!” the amalgamation roared one last time, but it was powerless to change the tide of battle, and it melted into a puddle of blood, just like how snow would melt into water once the sun hit it with its warmth. The blood melted away, revealing a dark, complete soul that had not an ounce of murder in it. This was the soul of Farik.

***

Everyone in the bedroom was holding their breath. The winds, the incantation, and the shapeshifting were gone. Farik had returned to his human form. He shivered, and his eyes snapped open. There was not an ounce of violence within them anymore. There was only a look of submission.

Roy pulled up the chair and heaved a sigh, then he wiped his sweat off. He then turned his attention to the character sheet.

‘You have destroyed the mark of the evil god, Svalblod. You have tamed Farik. You have cut off the bond between you and Farik.’

What a weak god. He had a feeling Svalblod was actually weaker than It looked. Weaker than I thought. Didn’t even use Full Recovery. Perhaps I should make a trip to Ard Skellig and fight It there.

“I-Is he alright now, Auckes?” Klaf extended his hand, longing to hold his brother, and then he pulled it back.

Roy nodded, smiling. He then uncorked the mead and poured it into Farik’s mouth. The blacksmith drank all he wanted and looked around, his family giving him looks of concern.

All the worry and fear he’d been feeling was gone. I’m back.

Everyone stared at him for a long minute, but the concoction of the Vildkaarls held no sway over him anymore. He was still human, and he was delighted. “Klaf, Chamir! I thought I’d never see you guys again. Where’s Tomy and Rahl?”

“Sleeping in their room.”

“Yoana! My sweet, little Yoana. Come, let me have a look. Oh, it’s been a month, but you’re already getting prettier. Wonder which lucky bastard gets to marry you. Hey, what the hell am I chained for?” Farik wanted to pat his niece’s head, but then he realized he was chained down. “Let me out!”

He had no idea what happened earlier. Everything about Vildkaarls disappeared along with the mark of their evil god.

“Brother! Auckes saved you from the jaws of the bear and the trolls! No one can threaten you now.” Klaf gave everyone looks that told them to keep this a secret. He patted his chest and heaved a sigh, then he quickly unraveled the chain. “We chained you since you might be traumatized from the capture and start daydreaming.”

“Really?” Farik looked at everyone, but there was only concern in their eyes. He heaved a sigh of relief like he just got a weight lifted off his shoulder, then he turned to the witcher. “I’d still be in the cage if not for you, Auckes. How can I ever thank you?” Farik rubbed his bruised wound and thumped his chest, then he bowed.

“Still scared of the bear now?” Roy smirked.

Farik mused for a few moments and shook his head in relief, his worry melting away, and he smiled. He seemed to have gotten a few years younger. “You’ve gotten rid of it, haven’t you? I can’t feel its threat looming over me anymore. It is no longer here.”

“Good to hear.”

“It’s a pity Okala and the warriors died because they wanted to save me. I must go back and give them a proper burial.”

A heavy mood hung in the air, and the witcher was reminded of how this man shared a meal with the trolls. Yeah, you should thank them, or you’d have starved to death. Roy was in no position to judge his past, but he would stay away from this man.

“You’ve been in the mines for more than a month. First you need to get some rest.” He then looked at Klaf and Yoana, then they followed him out of the smithy.

Chamir sat beside the bed, taking care of Farik.

***

The exorcism was over, and the warm sun hung high in the sky.

“You’ve saved my brother, who is an important clan member. You’ve held up your end of the bargain, and now it’s our turn to do the same. Please give us some time.” Klaf took a deep breath, resolve flaring in his eyes, and a hint of worship flitted within them too. That taming process affected him irrevocably. “Once Yoana and I pack our things, we shall board a ship and travel to Novigrad with you.”

“Yep.” Yoana nodded, staring at the witcher with bright, sparkling eyes. He killed two ice trolls and got rid of an evil god’s mark. Legendary feats, and he achieved them.

“Very well.” Roy grasped at thin air and produced a few contracts and a quill. “Take a look and sign them.”

Klaf’s smile froze, and he reluctantly took the contract. Hope it’s not a slavery contract. He skimmed through it, and his worries melted away, a smile hanging on his lips.

Roy made this contract based on the agreement he had with Evelyn. The laborers had rights according to the contract.

Nine to six were working hours, two days off every week, free accommodation and employee meals. Their job was to research, improve, and create weapons and armor for the brotherhood. The rules for the working place were lenient, to say the least.

Klaf would be paid two hundred crowns per month, while Yoana would receive fifty crowns every month. The contract would go on for ten years.

They can’t call me a bloodsucker this time.

“Ah, Auckes, are you sure this goes on for ten years?”

“Why? Too long?” Roy cocked his eyebrow.

“No, no. Blacksmithing is our life’s work. The duration is irrelevant. What I want to know is, aren’t you worried we might leave at the end of the contract’s duration?” Yoana glanced at the contract, and she felt relieved, a smile curling her lips.

Roy smiled at her. “You can leave if you want to.”

Klaf and Yoana turned around, looking at the bustling town waking up to the morning sun. Then they looked at their smithy, their slight melancholy turning into resolve, and they signed their contract.

Roy carefully tucked the contract away and heaved a sigh of relief. We’ll have our own blacksmiths from now on. A vet and a newbie. Once we go back to Novigrad, it’s time to start modifying the witcher school armor set as well as the research on the dragon scales and bones.

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