Chapter 175 175: Blood on the Northern Coast
[Name: Blazing Strike]
[Type: Weapon]
[Quality: Fine]
[Attack Power: Strong]
[Trait: Attack Bonus]
[Enchantment: Flame Coating]
[Note: Ah! Sir, it's so hot to the touch!]
…
[Name: Dawn Sword]
[Type: Weapon]
[Quality: Fine]
[Attack Power: Strong]
[Trait: Attack Enhancement]
[Enchantment: Illumination Coating]
[Note: May the Force be with you.]
…
"Don't be afraid, sir. If you cooperate, I won't do anything more to you. I have a lot I want to ask you, but not right now."
Wolfgang, the notorious murderer, robber, and rapist from Spikeroog, was sprawled on the ground in unbearable agony, because everything below his right knee had already said farewell to the rest of his body.
Tears and snot poured down, soaking his beard. He begged for help on the ground, but Victor had no intention of paying him any mind. After speaking, he simply picked up his sword and ran off into the distance, making sure no one could escape.
Tonight, the branch of the giant-hunting expedition led by Wolfgang had taken shelter in the workers' barracks on the northern coast. Undvik's shipyard was located here, and there was plenty of wood for warmth and protection from the cold.
It was a perfect night for murder, dark and windy. After suddenly making his move and easily dealing with the men who were not his own followers, he had led twenty subordinates to eliminate the two travelers behind them. He had thought the odds were entirely in his favor, and he was launching a surprise attack.
But contrary to his expectations, the Phantom Troupe had clearly been ready for them. Wearing masks over their faces, they hurled two round spheres at his men, and then a horrifying stench erupted.
Devil's Puffball, which had once made its name in Totheim, proved once again that its crowd-control power was terrifyingly effective. Twenty-one pirates instantly lost all will to fight, and what followed was nothing but a one-sided massacre.
So now he regretted everything. His desperate desire to live forced him to endure the pain and bandage the stump, stopping the blood from pouring from the wound.
Then he saw, not far away, his men being dragged back one by one by the boy, their howls and screams ignored as their bodies scraped crimson streaks across the snow.
The cold-bloodedness of it shook Wolfgang. He could not understand why the boy was doing this. Rather than being dragged and tormented like that, he would have preferred to die.
Then he saw that the attendant among the two travelers was stabbing and hacking his wounded men to death one after another as they were dragged back.
His whole body turned cold. He still wanted to live…
At last, when only he remained, the attendant walked over with his sword in hand, and the leader among the travelers smiled.
"Well done, Vigi. As the victors, we can afford to be angry now. We can even afford empathy!"
Then he crouched down and patted Wolfgang's face through his glove.
"So, sir, would you care to explain why you attacked us?
If you insist on keeping silent, there are many ways in this world to make a man die slowly, painfully, and for a very long time.
Of course, that would take time, and it wouldn't be very humane. So, Mr. Wolfgang, are you willing to tell the truth?"
"…Wait, I'll talk, I'll tell you everything, but you have to promise to spare my life!" The pirate stammered out his condition.
Four shallow scars crossed the young traveler's face as he smiled.
"Don't worry. I promise, I will not kill you myself."
…
Whoever sheds man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed.
, The Holy Book, Genesis 9:6
…
At the same time that blood was flowing across the northern coast, in the mountains about a two-day walk south of the shipyard, a red oval gemstone lay discarded in the grass. Looking closely at the pattern etched within it, one could see that it was actually a spell marker.
A spell marker was created when a spellcaster imprinted the fluctuations of their magic onto a gemstone. Its uniqueness made it useful as a token of identity, and a mage could also hand it to someone else to carry far away, then use the marker as a fixed point to open a long-distance portal.
Though using such a marker was very convenient, it was also severely restricted in practice. Because there was no way to hide the magical aura leaking from an object used as a spell marker, almost any place with even basic magical security had some means of detecting it. That greatly limited where such markers could be used. Out here in the remote wilderness, however, no one would notice it.
So now, with a thunderous sound, using it as a point of reference, a pale golden portal opened, and a man and a woman stepped out.
A red headscarf wrapped around beautiful golden hair. The lovely woman brought her palms together and dismissed the portal, then lightly lifted the hem of her gown so bits of grass would not stain her splendid evening dress.
The man beside her, with a high forehead, an immaculately groomed goatee, and noble hunting clothes, seemed rather less comfortable with portals. He swayed slightly when he landed, dizzy and unsteady on his feet.
"You really don't have to force yourself. I could handle this alone."
"Oh no, I must come personally, because I need to make certain that everything remains under His Imperial Majesty's control."
Vattier de Rideaux, viscount of the Nilfgaardian Empire, waved off the concern of the sorceress Assire var Anahid with thanks, then walked to the cliff edge and looked down upon Hjalmar's giant-hunting expedition below.
At a glance, the camp was split into two sections. One was set against the mountainside near the water source. Two longships had been used as a base for cover, and with surrounding earth, stone, and lumber gathered to reinforce it, the defenses were solid. Hjalmar's leadership was clearly of a high standard.
The other camp, however, was far inferior. Not only was it farther from the water, it lacked any real protective works. It merely used the mountainside and the longships as a windbreak and set up a few thick tents at random.
After a moment of thought, Vattier spoke.
"My dear lady, I'll trouble you next to cast a spell that draws the wild monsters in the area to attack them, especially the sirens. Then, once Hjalmar sounds the Hornwall Horn, we'll trigger an avalanche."
Assire's lips curled upward. "Viscount de Rideaux, don't you have men down there as well? How cold of you to dispose of them too."
Vattier turned his head. His gaze was icy, his neat goatee impeccable.
"They are not my men. Nilfgaard's hand cannot appear openly. If it does, these Skelligers who are still tearing at one another will immediately turn outward as one.
"I forged letters in the name of their respective clans and only then led them into committing this betrayal. Hjalmar must die by monsters' claws, or fall to strife within his own ranks. There cannot be even the slightest trace connecting it to the Empire.
"If Nilfgaard's attempt to assassinate the royal line were exposed, Skellige's coastal harassment would immediately become full-scale war. We cannot afford that outcome.
"Ever since Cintra fell seven years ago, and Bran's brother Eist died on the battlefield, the Isles have harried our coastal provinces for seven years without ceasing. Against enemies that implacable, the most efficient method is to divide them and let them slaughter each other."
Taking spell components out one by one from a scroll case at her waist, the sorceress began arranging them. Her lace skirts swayed in the wind.
"Very well, as you wish, wise viscount. And after that?"
"Once it is done, we leave. It is enough to create the appearance of Hjalmar's failure. The rest can be left to the Skelligers to tear each other apart. Too much involvement would only leave traces and do more harm than good.
"Don't worry about what comes after. I instructed the Maki brothers to quarrel with Hjalmar on purpose. Splitting the camp was all for this moment. What we need to weaken now is the main force in his hands, the sturdier camp."
…
There is no problem a well-planned assassination cannot solve.
, Vattier de Rideaux
…
The next morning, Victor woke from a deep sleep to air that was cold and crisp. From the embers of the fire he dug out roasted potato chunks, took Viper Vitality Broth as his breakfast drink, kicked Vigi awake, tossed him a bottle too, and the two of them quickly finished eating, packed their things, and set out.
As they left the shipyard, they could see that the towering, sturdy gate had been smashed open, half of the huge door hanging crookedly on the ground. The force that had broken it must have been immense. This ice giant was probably at least sixteen feet tall.
After drinking Tawny Owl to ensure endurance, the two of them headed south uphill, with the rascal leading the way.
This route was longer, but also gentler and easier to travel. Seen from above, the snowy plain stretched out ahead of them, and the occasional two lines of footprints were quickly swallowed by fresh falling snow.
As they walked, Victor suddenly remembered the original reason he had come to Skellige. His main goal, punishing pirates and rescuing girls, had already been achieved. But his secondary goal, collecting smithing tools, happened to lie on this island.
"Vigi, do you know where the Tordarroch forge is? I heard it's inside a cave, carved directly out of the rock face."
"Of course I do. Captain, you heard right. From Urskar, head southeast up the mountain. If you set out early and keep a good pace, fast walkers can reach it by evening.
"I never expected you to have heard of our clan forge too. You've got taste. The armor we forge is the best in the Isles, and our swordsmithing is no slouch either. Every piece is the equal of dwarven craftsmanship."
Victor said casually, "A soft core, forged in multiple layers, with a hard steel outer shell?"
"How do you know that? That's a Clan Tordarroch secret!" The rascal was dumbfounded.
"I've got a few dwarf friends in Vergen. And in Novigrad I hired a master smith who's a Skelliger too. I don't know if you know her, her name is Yoana."
"Yoana? I've never heard that name. But honestly, even if the forging methods are the same, the quality of the ore from Undvik is still the best."
"Thanks for the reminder. I'll make sure to stockpile plenty of ore."
He had barely finished speaking when the snow suddenly rustled. Victor caught a glimpse of a fleeting shadow from the corner of his eye and immediately stopped, pulling a potion from his herbal satchel. Vigi had clearly seen it too and had already drawn his sword.
"Even if we deal with the giant this time, your island still has plenty of problems. Even trash like nekkers are daring to creep close to the road now. Glug, glug, glug." Pulling out the stopper, Victor drank half a vial of Golden Oriole, then handed the rest to Vigi. "Golden Oriole, it boosts resistance to toxins."
Without hesitation, the rascal took the potion and drank it. Shapes flickered before his eyes as a pack of nekkers kept clawing their way out of the ground. He knew the boy was right, this situation was not normal at all.
Nekkers were supposed to be small, deformed creatures of remote regions. They should have been living in dark forests, damp gullies, or shadowy valleys. Their appearance so close to the road meant the old order here had already been shattered.
Then his pupils widened, because it was not just more than twenty nekkers emerging on the far side. There was also one especially huge and powerful nekker chieftain among them.
A nekker chieftain was a higher, more intelligent specimen within a nekker pack. It marked its face with red clay and could issue commands, turning a gang of scattered vermin into something like an organized troop. Which was why, when fighting nekkers, the chieftain had to be killed first.
And for something that eye-catching, of course Victor was not going to miss it. He barely had to think. Making his decision instantly, he pulled one of his treasured creations from the herbal satchel and hurled it toward the distant enemy line without the slightest hesitation.
A fist-sized sphere flew through the air in an instant and reached the nekker chieftain before erupting with a thunderous blast.
[Name: Grapeshot, Grenade]
[Type: Offensive Item]
[Quality: Fine]
[Function: Damages all living things within range]
[Trait: Heavy Impact, Destructive Power Increased+]
[Note: There's no problem I can't solve. And if there is, that just means the yield wasn't high enough!]
…
In the roaring explosion, the chieftain was blasted down without question. With their leader gone, the nekker swarm lost its head and was quickly scattered by the Phantom Troupe. By the time the two of them got moving again, Victor's steps were light and his smile openly pleased. Clearly, dissecting the nekker chieftain had yielded rich rewards.
Taking advantage of the boy's good mood, Vigi asked, "Captain, this Grapeshot is incredible. Everything in its range gets turned to bloody pulp. Why haven't you used something this devastating before? Can I use it?"
Victor shook his head. "No. I don't use it precisely because it's too powerful and too easy to cause friendly fire. I haven't given any to you or Angoulême yet because they still rely on traditional ignition. Without the herbal satchel, they're too dangerous. If one doesn't get thrown properly, or explodes in your hand, that's an instant team wipe."
Listening to the explanation, the rascal nodded seriously. Since the captain said it was unavailable for now, that meant there might be a chance in the future. Thinking back to the overwhelming destruction Grapeshot had just unleashed on the monsters, Vigi could not help feeling excited.
Sensing his companion's enthusiasm, the captain was pleased as well. Now that Grapeshot's power had been proven, his confidence in bringing down the giant had risen even more. Thanks to Crach's full support back at Kaer Trolde, Victor felt very secure in his stockpile of explosive yield.
Thanks to the potions, they were moving fast, much faster than any normal marching pace. But just as they reached higher ground and were preparing to descend, the wolf medallion on Victor's chest suddenly trembled slightly, meaning magical energy or monsters were nearby.
He stopped and carefully searched the brush by the roadside. Then he picked up a red oval gemstone.
Seeing the quail-egg-sized glimmer in Victor's hand, Vigi happily offered congratulations. "Captain, you've got amazing luck. You actually found a gemstone that big just walking in the mountains."
Victor said nothing. He raised the gemstone and inspected the patterns inside by the sunlight, and then his expression turned absolutely foul.
Putting the evidence away in his herbal satchel, the boy understood perfectly well that it was not just a gemstone, it was a spell marker. And the appearance of a spell marker usually meant the appearance of a mage, and the appearance of a mage…
With a dark premonition, he stepped forward to the cliff edge and looked down.
Sure enough, there were obvious traces of an avalanche below. Half-buried in the snow were broken longships and tents, the remains of Skellige warriors, and the corpses of sirens.
Following the boy to the cliff's edge and seeing the devastation below, the rascal bit down hard. "Damn it! They really had terrible luck, getting swarmed by sirens and then hit by an avalanche…"
He hurried down the slope at once, hoping to see whether any of his countrymen could still be saved. Victor followed after him, but his thoughts lingered on what Vigi had just said.
"They really had terrible luck… did they?"
If he had not picked up this gemstone, perhaps that would have been exactly what he thought too.
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