System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 236
In the royal dining hall, the Magic Lamps cast dreamlike shadows. A man and a woman sat facing each other from opposite ends of the table.
“So, you mean to leave Vizima?” Half of Adda’s face lay buried in shadow, her slender fingers laced together.
The Witcher stuffed a chunk of slow-stewed mutton into his mouth, some apology in his eyes. “Once the School’s gear is finished, we’ll be on our way. About another week, I’d say.”
“And the priest of the God of Ill Omen...”
He gave her an apologetic look. “I did want to keep chasing Abigail, but the ‘masters’ object strongly. As a member of the Viper School, I have to respect their judgment, so I’m sorry ... But I think Abigail has already left Vizima.”
Adda said nothing.
“How goes the rebuilding of the sewer sanctuary?”
“Another month, perhaps...” At the mention of the Church of Virtue, fresh light came into Adda’s lovely face, and her tone brightened. “The twenty most devout cultists in the Vizima district will move into the new prayer chamber, and preaching in the villages outside the city will begin at the same time.”
“Sooner or later, the Goddess will shine again in Vizima.”
“You’ve only achieved this much because of the help you were given.” Adda pressed her lush red lips together and looked at the Witcher with hope still lingering in her eyes, making one final attempt. “Have you truly no wish to remain in Vizima and devote yourself to aiding me? I will find a way to give you a proper standing, and the respect your abilities deserve.”
“In truth, it is not only my cause that needs you,” Adda emphasized. “The Goddess cannot do without your support either.”
The Lady of the Lake had been in secluded slumber for a long while now. Ever since she transformed more than a dozen water elves on Black Gull Island and bestowed that drop of blood essence upon Roy, she seemed badly drained.
It was also possible she was lying low to avoid the malice of the three Royal Advisors and Foltest.
“But first and foremost, I am a Witcher.” Roy’s tone was sincere, but his eyes were firm. “You know how it is. Witchers have never been creatures that settle down. We were never meant to remain long in one place.”
After that, the two fell silent. For a long while no one spoke, and the only sound in the dining hall was the crisp clink of knife and fork against plate.
“Very well ... if your mind is made up, I won’t force the matter.” Adda looked somewhat listless, making herself speak with spirit. “But I am curious, once you leave Vizima, where do you go next?”
“The Free City of Novigrad.” Roy did not hide it in the least. “There are people there who matter a great deal to me. Besides that, I have an agreement waiting for me in Novigrad, one that concerns the future growth of the Viper School. I have to go.”
“Novigrad, on the border between Redania and Temeria?” Adda reminded him. “You should be careful. The greatest power there, the Church of the Eternal Fire, is not especially kind to nonhumans.”
“Not quite so extreme toward Witchers, not yet,” Roy said, speaking of the present moment. “And we’re not going there to stir trouble.”
Adda pondered for a while, then glanced at the Witcher again and said hesitantly,
“On the road from Vizima to Novigrad, the demesne of Baron La Valette lies directly in your path?”
“According to our plans, yes. Why do you ask?”
“There is something I wish to ask of you.” Adda stopped herself halfway. “No ... in truth, it is nothing of great importance. Merely a family scandal that came to mind.”
The Witcher did not pursue the matter. He vaguely remembered that, in history, Baroness Luisa La Valette had borne Foltest two bastards, first a daughter, then a son. Had the Princess of Temeria already begun to suspect?
But he had never intended to meddle in royal domestic affairs, and so he kept his silence.
Adda sighed and let the matter drop. “Will you return to Vizima in the future?”
“Of course. We are the staunchest of allies.” The Witcher smiled. “Do not forget, there are still elven ruins beneath the ground waiting to be explored.”
Unless something unforeseen happened, the next time he returned to Vizima would likely be after the First Northern War.
“Then let me wish you a safe road in advance, Knight Roy. I hope that when next we meet, you will already have rebuilt the Viper School as you wished.”
“You honor me, Your Highness. And I hope you will soon achieve your own ambitions here in Vizima.”
They smiled at one another, raised their cups across the long table, and drank to each other from afar.
“There is one more thing I ought to tell you. Foltest has made it clear that he refuses your previous request,” Adda said. “But he will compensate you with money instead, two thousand orens.”
“I expected as much.” The Witcher was a little disappointed, but that was reality. Reality did not always bend itself to a man’s will.
“Foltest is too old. He weighs every side and has lost his nerve,” Adda said. “If it were me, I would clear your name without hesitation. It would take no more than a few notices.”
Roy shook his head. It was not nearly so simple. But he saw the ambition burning in Adda’s narrow eyes. “Then I will look forward to the day it is.”
Perhaps before long, Vizima would see its first female heir.
“One last favor. Could you have Mayor Velerad issue us a letter of introduction, just in case?”
...
In the corridor before leaving Foltest Castle, Roy ran into a familiar group once more.
Several soldiers, along with Zerlin and Yagon on crutches, and Mars, who looked much improved while still lying on a stretcher. The three Knights of the White Rose were speaking with Royal Advisor Triss Merigold.
“Good afternoon, Master Roy. What a coincidence, seeing you here as well.” The moment they spotted him, the three knights warmly came over and clustered around the Witcher, with the sorceress following behind. “We’ve wanted to thank you for saving our lives the other day.”
“You give me too much credit. You helped me a great deal as well, so there’s no need for thanks.” Roy spoke with real warmth.
Though all three were older than he was in years, during the last expedition they had been under his protection the whole way.
“How are your injuries? Do they still hurt?”
Zerlin flexed the bulging bicep on his arm. “I’m perfectly fine, but Lady Triss says I still need at least three months of rest.”
“You injured the bone. Three months is already light,” the sorceress said with a bright smile as she came over. She looked to be in excellent spirits, wearing a red evening gown trimmed with lace that showed off her fine figure. “These two came off well enough. But Knight Mars won’t be leaving that stretcher this year.”
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