Chapter 137: Smoke Above the Northlands

Although the Five Knightly Virtues did not include “abstinence,” if Lannor had heard the Lady’s wild remarks for himself, the young witcher’s heart probably would have hammered against his ribs all the same.

He had always known the Lady of the Lake was a rather approachable deity, but the thought of a conceptual god born from virtue wanting to sleep with him ... that was somewhat beyond the limits of his imagination.

When crossing through the Conjunction of the Spheres rift, Lannor had assumed the sensation would resemble stepping through one of Triss’s portals.

Reality proved the young man painfully inexperienced.

It felt as though he had spent an hour trapped on some infernal rocking contraption. The nausea churned through his organs until even his throat began convulsing with involuntary retching. With Lannor’s physique and willpower, he still had to swallow repeatedly before he managed to force the sickness back down.

“Arya, you alright?”

The little girl put on a serious face, exactly like the first time she had passed through a portal. She raised a hand, trying to wave him off as though nothing was wrong.

But this crossing hit harder than the last one.

Her hand had barely lifted halfway before both cheeks puffed out like a startled hamster’s.

Then—

“Bleeegh!”

“ ... Right. Understood.”

Lannor raised a brow and walked over to pat her back.

While Arya continued vomiting miserably, Lannor began observing their surroundings.

Just as the sounds from the other side had suggested, this was a stretch of dense woodland tangled with shrubs and undergrowth. Moist air hung beneath the trees, and somewhere nearby, faint water currents could be heard. There was probably a river close by.

Night had already fallen. Flickering torchlight drifted faintly through the deep woods ahead.

The people carrying those torches were shouting Arya’s name.