The Divine Hunter
chapter-272-30041322

The skies were grey the next afternoon. A blanket of fog that came from Pontar draped the baron's land, filling the air with humidity and the stench of fish and riverweeds.

The ladies of the troupe were escorted by a soldier, and they were led away from the castle. Their hair was wet, apparently because they bathed earlier. Their rancid smell was gone, and their cuffs had been taken off. Their greasy, squalid clothes were changed out for clean ones, and they looked different.

"You're lucky Sir Aryan woke up in time, bitches. Count yourselves fortunate the baron decided to let you go." Dylan was pushing the ladies, cursing, "Now take your stuff and make yourself scarce. Leave the fief in three days. You can go wherever you want, but never come back, or the next time you come will be your last."

"Pee yew. You're less civilized than my cat." The young witcher came out of the tower behind them, eyes flashing with anger, and he cracked his knuckles. "Now lay your disgusting hand off the ladies. They're no longer prisoners you can torture. Touch them again and the next time will be your last."

Dylan looked livid and irked, as if he just heard the most offensive thing in the continent. He bared his teeth, but then he remembered that horrifying encounter last time, and he swallowed his words in horror.

The Zerrikanian lady suddenly stuck her tongue out and drew a finger across her throat.

***

"So, how does freedom feel, ladies?" Roy saw Dylan off, smiling happily, and he went to the ladies' side.

"I knew you wouldn't leave us for dead, Roy." Kantilla wrapped her arm around Roy's shoulder and leaned closer to him. "You caught the culprit and cleared our names, didn't you? The lady gave us a lot of coins as recompense.”

Roy nodded. The culprit is just some bullshit I came up with. There's no way the baron would believe anything I say about Gaunter. Who'd believe something that powerful exists? The ladies probably wouldn't either.

"Where's Ferroz anyway?" Roy looked around, but only the ladies were here. Ferroz the Joker was nowhere to be seen.

"Ferroz is…" Kantilla suddenly hung her head low, her smile wiped away.

Sadness welled in Eveline's eyes, but she said nothing.

It was then Roy noticed the three hemp sacks behind the ladies. He sniffed the air. One of them smelled like burned flesh, the other smelled like flowers, and the last one smelled like a slightly rotten corpse. "Is he…"

"Yes, his corpse is in there." Kantilla sighed. "Right after the servants told us the culprit was caught, he killed himself."

"You sure it's a suicide and not a murder?" Roy looked at the sack darkly.

Eveline shook her head. She said, "He lost his will to live, but he wasn't gonna die until his name was cleared. Now that the truth is out, he went ahead to see Collins."

Roy was shocked. I racked my brains and challenged the Master of Mirrors to save you guys, and one of you killed himself? "So Amos and Collins are in here too, aren't they?"

Collins was one of the troupe members, but the baron had executed him by fire. Roy saw his charred body on the plaza before. And Amos was buried in the garden because of that bitch and her affair partner.

"Yeah. We want to take the bodies and bury them together once we leave the city. It's the last thing we can do for our friends."

The air was glum for a moment. Roy stared at the hemp sacks, and he could see the shape of the distorted corpses within. He pitied Ferroz, though he was angry too. He watched his lover die, and he didn't even think about getting revenge on the guy who ordered the execution? He'd rather kill himself than avenge his lover. What a coward. But then Roy shook his head.

I have no right to laugh at him. He's just a performer. He has no power to strike back against someone like the baron. There's barely anyone who would rise up against the nobility who treats them as less than humans. They're just one among the countless. Those who tried to rise up were forced to hide in the mountains and make a living as bandits.

***

"Here." Eveline led the way. Roy was holding one sack. He and Kantilla were following her. "This isn't the way to the inn. Where are we?" Roy asked curiously.

Eveline pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She answered without looking back, "Roy, Ferroz might have died, but we won't forget what you did for us. I'll repay this debt in the future."

"You're my friend, and I'm saying it again, but you don't need to repay me. And why the future anyway?"

Roy was about to say something again, but then Kantilla huddled closer and held his arm. "Eveline's right. The people of the dragon never forget their debts. You saved me from that treacherous dungeon, and thus I owe you my life. I'm more than willing to fight for you, Roy. Of course, I can also do all sorts of things. You'll be happy with it." She suddenly licked her lips.

Kantilla spread her arms and spun around, showing off her tanned, beautiful body. She had an aquiline nose, deep-set eyes, full lips, and her cheeks were tattooed. This woman was feral and exotic. "You're not as muscular as the dragon's people, but you're handsome," she said seriously.

Eveline explained, "Roy, Kantilla comes from a place east of the Blue Mountain. Her people are excellent warriors who have mastered the art of battle. They're loyal and dependable. Every Zerrikanian is a brilliant mercenary. All the merchants and officials dream of hiring a Zerrikanian bodyguard.”

"And?"

"Slow down. Most importantly, Zerrikanians are simple people. You saved her life, so she's willing to be your mercenary free of charge. She's doing this to repay her debt to you."

"You missed one thing, Eveline. I'm also brilliant in everything else. Not just fighting." She puffed her chest confidently, trying to sell herself.

"Are you sure she's a bodyguard and not some sort of concubine?" They sure are open, Roy thought. He averted Kantilla's passionate gaze He was reminded of Borch Three Jackdaws. That man, or to be more precise, that shapeshifted golden dragon was Geralt's acquaintance. He had a pair of Zerrikanian sisters following him around.

The sisters were not just capable fighters. They were capable in bed as well. There was this one time where they had a foursome with their master and Geralt.

"Sorry, Kantilla, but witchers don't need bodyguards or lackeys." Roy took a deep breath. He couldn't imagine himself hiding behind a woman in a battle with monsters. That's not what a man should do. He shook his head.

"Do you think I'm weak, witcher? Do you think I'd drag you down?" Kantilla unbuttoned herself, revealing her skin. Roy noticed an ugly scar under her collarbone, and a green scorpion was tattooed at the edge of her breast. It was lifelike enough to inspire fear.

"I got this scar from killing a scorpion in Zerrikania. It was bigger than a buffalo and stronger than a regular man, but I killed it alone. This tattoo marks my victory. And I've killed many thugs and beasts over the years of travel with the troupe. All I need for battle is a sword and a crossbow and bolts."

"Kantilla, I don't doubt your skills. You're an indubitably great warrior, and… Oh, please button your shirt." Roy looked away and said seriously, "You ladies make great friends, but once you become my mercenary, there's going to be a gap between us. It's not something I want—"

"I don't mind." Kantilla suddenly held Roy's arms. "Witchers fight dangerous monsters all the time, don't they? That's what I want. I want to kill more monsters, get more victories, and gain more tattoos. There's no greater purpose for me." The lady's eyes were starting to shine.

"But you have a better way out here. Listen to me." Roy pulled his arm away. Oh no. I'm not letting you take my EXP away from me. "Lady Louisa reimbursed you, didn't she? You can build the troupe again with that money."

"It's too late." Eveline pursed her lips. She had a sad look in her eyes. "Our members are dead, and the others have left us. We're the only ones left. We can't even come up with a complete show. Kantilla and I talked about it. Once we bury our dead members, we're going our separate ways. She has nobody else she can rely on in the northern kingdom. It'd be best if you can take her in."

"I'll have to talk to my companions about this," Roy said. "But why are you going your separate ways? I thought you were friends. My companions won't mind taking two more people to Novigrad. The free city's trade is marvelous. You'll find work easily there, and it should be safe for a few years. Life is a lot better there too. At least compared to the baron's land.”

"Sorry, Roy, but I have other plans." Eveline looked up into the sky and sighed. She finally resolved herself. "I'm going home."

"Home?"

"Eveline comes from Dol Blathanna. It's somewhere in the Blue Mountains… In a place the northerners call the world's edge," Kantilla explained. "She should have brought it up before."

That's one familiar name. Never been there before. Roy massaged his temples, and he rummaged through his memories.

Dol Blathanna sat under the Blue Mountains. It was due east of Lower Posada, Roy's hometown. Elven folk used to own the place a few centuries ago, but ever since humans invaded it, Dol Blathanna became Aedirn's eastern border. The local Ain Seidhes were forced into the Blue Mountains.

Even until today, the elves would destroy the fields and learn about agriculture from the humans. All while they were plotting how to take back Dol Blathanna.

Humans and elves had been fighting in Dol Blathanna for a long time, and the battle was getting more intense as the Northern War was getting closer. There was one important figure in Dol Blathanna, and her name was Francesca Findabair. She was the future queen of the elves as well as one of the leaders of Dol Blathanna elves.

***

"Why are you going back all of a sudden?" Roy asked. "Because of what happened to Ferroz and Collins?"

Eveline stayed silent, but then she stopped in her tracks and looked ahead. Roy realized that they were in a narrow alley. He looked in the direction Eveline was staring, but when he scanned the innermost wall of the alley, his pupils contracted.

There were four silhouettes standing on the wall, as if they came out of nowhere. They were crouching on the looming wall, and the leader was… an elf. There were blue highlights in his black hair, and his features were chiseled. His eyes were big, and they shone. His ears were pointy, and he was in tight green brigandine. A slender sword hung around his waist.

Roy held his vibrating pendant and tensed up. He had cast Observe on the group of people. They were all elves from the mountains, and all of them looked like the typical ancient Ain Seidhe. Purebloods.

***

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