System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 315: Secrets of the Mad Sorcerer
The bright moon hung high.
Novigrad, common quarter.
A bleak autumn wind slipped beneath a gray linen curtain and spilled into a narrow bedroom.
A Magic Lamp cast a dim yellow glow. A young man with dark golden pupils and a lean frame gently ran his fingers over the rounded Spyglass mounted on an iron stand, over the diamond-shaped crystal set into it.
Once, twice. Firefly-like motes of magic drifted from the Witcher’s fingertips and sank into the Spyglass.
Light surged through the entire room. Above the Spyglass, a translucent screen abruptly bloomed into being.
Like ripples spreading across water, the screen flickered, unstable, blinking in and out.
Gradually, it outlined an exquisitely beautiful face.
Shoulder-length hair burned red as flame. Azure eyes, clear as a spring. A straight nose that hinted at stubborn pride. Lips slightly full, moist, tender as the heart of a flower.
It was deep night. The woman wore a close-fitting white silk nightdress, the fabric clinging just enough to trace the curves beneath her neck.
Past her rounded shoulders, one could faintly glimpse violet-patterned curtains and a soft white velvet bed. This had to be her bedroom in Kerack.
“Well, look at this. A rare guest,” Lytta Neyd crossed her arms, brows knitting slightly, her pretty face edged with mock annoyance. “Viper School Witcher Roy. What wind blew you my way?”
“Two whole months, and you finally remember to contact me.”
“How very generous of you.”
The sorceress fired off her questions in rapid succession, like a neglected woman airing her grievances.
“Uh...” Roy wiped at nonexistent sweat on his brow, his face unchanged, feigning calm, though something inside him gave a jolt.
Lately he had been buried in one matter after another. There was no denying he had neglected her.
Compared to before, when they traveled from Vizima to Velen and spent over a month in nightly conversations by candlelight, this ... was a stark contrast.
There was no doubt about it.
The sorceress was angry. Too irritated even to bother maintaining her usual poise and elegance.
She showed her true nature outright.
Roy had seen this side of her once before, the day they danced in Cintra.
So he met her azure gaze, then lowered his head sincerely.
“I’m sorry, Coral. My fault. I’ve been run ragged lately, couldn’t find the time to reach out, to keep you company.”
Her expression eased slightly. She propped her chin on her right hand at the dressing table, her left hand brushing aside the fiery hair at her cheek.
“Go on then. Keep it concise. Don’t bore me. What grand adventures have kept you so busy these past two months? Let me judge them for myself.”
...
Five minutes later.
“Roy, you fickle little rogue. No wonder you suddenly remembered me. Need help, do you?” Lytta Neyd abruptly leaned close to the Spyglass.
As if she had teleported across a thousand miles straight into his face, close enough to touch.
Fickle? You can’t just pin every charge on me.
Roy’s eyelid twitched. He met her gaze head-on, refusing to yield.
“Irenaeus von Steingard can summon storms. In the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, he can’t be some nobody. Coral, I assume you know him?”
The sorceress turned away suddenly. The trace of anger vanished from her face. Her red lips pressed together, curving into a faint smile.
So the anger had been a performance.
She stroked her sharp chin and began pacing before the Spyglass.
The image wavered, offering fleeting glimpses of curves rising like hills.
She was showing off on purpose.
Roy had endured such alluring scenes more than once now. He remained composed, not letting himself falter.
“You little rogue, bold as ever ... That information you sent from Vizima last time was decent enough. I’ll help you this once.”
“Steingard. A top twenty sorcerer within the Association. A research fanatic, obsessed with biological experimentation ... operating in the gray zones beyond the iron laws of sorcerers.” Coral’s blue eyes gleamed with mockery. “For a long time, he held considerable prestige in the Association and had a group of loyal followers who supported his mad ideas. Many suspected he conducted forbidden experiments in secret, but no one ever found proof.”
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