The Divine Hunter

Chapter 627: Francesca



Chapter 627: Francesca

Compared to a few years ago, the princess of Temeria had changed. Drastically. She was in a white robe, her curves showing off a little despite the size of the clothes she was wearing. Her hair, usually untied, was now tied and slithered down her back. Her sharp eyes, aquiline nose, and strong lips were gentler now. Friendly to the eyes. Even though she had no makeup on, her looks rivaled those of the sorceresses, and she had a different kind of charm to her.

“Good evening, Roy.” Adda extended her right hand, smiling. Her eyes were twinkling. Roy bowed, kissing the back of Adda’s hand.

“It has been years, Your Highness. You look better than ever.” He was getting numb to the surprise. This meeting was different from what he remembered. Linus and Adda were not supposed to be here.

Adda looked at Roy’s partner. “Aren’t you going to introduce this lovely lady to me?”

Roy tried to say something, but Coral held his arm before he could. She straightened out his collar like a gentle wife, but furtively, she puffed her chest out.

Adda froze, but it was barely noticeable. The light in her eyes dimmed. She picked up a glass of absinthe on the table and took a sip. “You look perfect together. Oh, I almost forgot. I have someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

She turned around. A burly, blonde guy in gray casual attire crossed the crowd, approaching them looking surprised. “Hey, Loi” The man’s cheeks were puffed, as if he were a squirrel hoarding food. Roy could smell the scent of salmon coming off him.

With hesitation, Roy shook the man’s wasabi-coated hand. “Grimm Sigurd? Why are you here?”

Grimm gulped down his salmon and thumped his chest so he could breathe. With excitement, he said, “Did you forget? You told me to seek Princess Adda out. I am now going through the Lady of the Lake’s trial, protecting the great priestess of her church. By the honor of knights, once I pass the trial and crowned knight of valor, we’ll be drinking Viziman Champion till we drop. My treat.”

“You have courage. I shall be waiting.” Roy made small talk with the knight who kept making oaths. He then looked at Adda. “So what brings you here, Your Highness?”

The princess puckered her glossy lips. “It has been years since you came back to Vizima. I’m here on behalf of the Lady of the Lake to capture her irresponsible knight.”

Roy froze. Adda covered her lips, giggling. Proudly, she said, “Now the serious part. Our church, at least at Lake Vizima, is bigger than the Eternal Fire now. Lady Vivienne is busy protecting her believers, answering their prayers, and showing her power. She has no time to see you. As for the reason I’m here Well, you’re not a stranger.”

Adda led the others to a quiet corner. She carefully made a gesture, and she made sure they were surrounded by a bubble that kept their conversation silent. “Keira told me about the second segment of this meeting. The one who sent assassins after my father and the traitor of Temeria’s royal consultant is in Aretuza. I shall be working with the allies of the North and capture her.”

Adda paused, her eyes twinkling brightly. “Even as we speak, a troop of White Rose knights are hidden in Aretuza. Once the night grows old, Keira and Philippa will give us the signal, and we will go on the offensive.”

Feeling humid, Roy took off one of his buttons. Temeria’s army joined this mess too? Pity they won’t be of use.

Thinking the witcher was shocked by the magnitude of this affair, a concerned Adda said, “Roy, I know you’re skilled, but this isn’t something you can join. After this, just return to your bedchambers and stay there. Once the sun rises tomorrow morning, the bloodshed should be done. The dust will have settled.”

Roy wondered if he should tell Adda his allies, a hundred strong, were coming. But then, a petite, slender sorceress in a green gauze shirt called out in their direction. The sorceress had hair the color of hay.

“Keira’s here.” Adda waved. “I have to speak to her. See you two around.” She raised her absinthe to the witcher and drank it all. Her cheeks turned red, and she wiped the booze off her lips. “Take care, Roy. Come back to Vizima when you have time.” She went into the crowd, her hair swaying behind her.

***

“You had a past with the princess?” Coral smiled gently, watching how Roy would respond.

“No. I just lifted her curse, that’s all.” Roy shook his head, holding his feelings down. “We’re just friends.”

“The princess might not have as good a life as it seems.” Coral smiled. Knowingly, she said, “Rumors say that Foltest’s mistress gave him a son not too long ago. Should that boy ascend the throne, what will happen to Adda?”

“Married off to another kingdom’s prince?” Roy fell silent. He shook his head and adamantly said, “Adda is the great priestess of the Church of Virtue. A powerful woman by her own right. The Lady of the Lake protects her. Not even the king can make her do anything.”

History had changed. Poor Adda no longer had to marry the bald, stone-hearted prince of Redania, Radovid V.

***

A little commotion broke out in the hall, capturing everyone’s attention. Coral’s smile faded. “The heads of the brotherhood are here.”

The sorcerers made a path for the people who descended from Garstang, bowing to them. The man in the lead was a middle-aged person, and he was in simple clothes, but he looked lively.

“Gerhart of Aelle, also known as Hen Gedymdeith. As far as the brotherhood knows, he’s the oldest member around at about five hundred years old,” Coral whispered into Roy’s ears. “His mentor was Geoffrey Monck. Strongest human sorcerer in history and also the one who trapped djinns in a bottle.”

Roy perked up, and data flickered in his eyes. The guy has a rich reserve of mana and masters a few hundred spells, including forbidden ones never heard before. He’s on par with Vilgefortz, but it’s a pity he doesn’t have the martial skills Vilgefortz learned from the druids. And he’s troubled by a lot of diseases, his heart condition being one of them. His health is in jeopardy.

“But do not worry. He will never betray the North.”

A lithe, black-haired woman walked with Gerhart.

“Tissaia, headmistress of Aretuza.”

“The one who came up with the cruel rule that mandates all Aretuza students go through a magical process to make them barren?” Roy asked.

“Yes, but she’s a neutral person and a scholar of magic.” Coral had respect in her voice. “She would never aid the South.”

Roy nodded. He remembered that Tissaia released the traitors tied down by dimeritium cuffs during the meeting because of her neutral standing. That was how the political enemies got into a battle and destroyed the Northern brotherhood. Out of guilt and despair, Tissaia took her own life after the incident.

Roy clenched his fists. But this time, her fate will be rewritten.

A short, stocky, hideous man with a jeer in his eyes followed the two. Artaud Terranova, one of the brotherhood’s members. Roy remembered he was one of the traitors. And then, a beauty radiating the air of a daisy came in last. Her golden hair and grey-green dress swayed and rustled with every step she took, her elven rouge sparkling under the light.

Contrary to the merry hall, her eyes were clear and unusually quiet, as if she were a foal that had been born. As if she were a forest kissed by a breeze.

***

Francesca saw the young witcher standing among the crowd right away. To Roy’s surprise, the elven queen did not run away. Artaud gave her a mysterious look, while Philippa gave her a judging one, but she went over to Roy. She glanced at the witcher quietly. And then, as if she was talking to herself, she spoke. “Don’t bring anyone else.”

She went into the quiet corridor north of the hall. Roy gave Coral a look that said, ‘Stick to the plan.’ He then went with the elven queen.

***

“Enid an Gleanna, leader of Scoia’tael and the enduring queen of Aen Elle. Finally, we meet.” Roy looked quietly at the elf a few yards away from him. The dim light shone on her gorgeous looks. Her nose was aquiline, her lips lustrous, her eyes wide and innocent. It was as if the creator made a miracle. “I have been waiting for this day for a long, long time.”

“Dh’oine. Human, Roy of the Viper School, save your hypocrisy. Let’s cut to the chase.” Francesca waved a finger across the air, and an invisible magical barrier twinkled, shutting them off from everyone else. “Tell me, how did you get your hands on so many secrets? How did you know of my ties to Scoia’tael and the deal with Emhyr?”

Roy smiled. “I’m part-elf, so not exactly human. You don’t have to hold so much hostility against me. And witchers believe in fair play. Why don’t we answer one question for each question asked? To sweeten the deal, I’ll answer your question first.”

Francesca said calmly, “Your organization killed hundreds of my brethren over the span of two operations, and you claim that’s fair?”

“You mean the operation in Novigrad or northern Ellander? Say, you remember who threw the first punch?” Roy sneered, his gaze turning icy. “So you’re saying we shouldn’t fight back when we’re threatened and instead should just let you kill us?”

Francesca held her talisman tightly, but she didn’t feel as calm as she was. Roy stared at her for a while, then he nodded. “No objections? Then we’ll play by my rules. The answer for your question is Vilgefortz. I found out everything about you through the middleman. Like how you sent Scoia’tael members to attack the North in order to gain the trust and promise of Emhyr. All so he would help you regain Dol Blathanna and aid you in the rebuilding of the elven kingdom after the second war begins.”

“If you’re trying to turn us against each other, that is not working. He would never betray me.” Francesca frowned, tilting her head. A hint of fury flared in her eyes. It was as if she’d just heard her best friend slandered.

“You’re right. He did not sell you out. His legacy, however, contains evidence of your conspiring with the South.”

“Legacy? You mean Vilgefortz is dead?” Francesca shook her head. “A regular witcher like you could not kill him.”

Roy shrugged nonchalantly. “I was no match for him, but his ambition got the better of him, and he crossed a god. In the end, the universe’s aurora killed him, and not a shred of him remains. He would have never given up his grasp on the brotherhood if he were still alive.”

Francesca found this unacceptable. She frowned, falling into her pensive thoughts.

Roy waited for a moment. “Now it is my turn. Milady, please answer my question honestly and in as much detail as possible, or this conversation will be difficult to go on.”

***

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