Fiendhunter

**"Charlatan, what fresh heresy do you brew now?"** Prince Adern's protest echoed across moonlit flagstones as Bai Lang tracked the Carrion Sovereign's retreat. Kyaeth's talons found purchase in a fleeing maid's collarbone—a shriek that summoned guards like moths to flame. 

The crossbow bolt struck true, staggering the abomination. Mourngrim's silver edge bit rancid flesh as royal steel encircled them—a macabre ballet of restraint. **"Stand down!"** Adern roared, his command freezing halberds mid-swing. 

In the grotesque tableau, Bai Lang's Axii Sign struck home. The killing thrust veered as an arrow hissed past his ear—Vistandyn's intervention. **"You dare raise steel against royal blood?"** 

**"I raise steel against what your denial birthed,"** the witcher countered, Yrden's backlash scattering guards like ninepins. 

The king's solar reeked of rosemary and regret. **"Not blood curse, but elder malice,"** Bai Lang revealed under Axii's azure glow. **"The cure demands the sorcerer's life... or his kin's."** 

Vistandyn's face mirrored the tapestries of Ravenscroft ancestors. **"The queen... she arrived with Duvellia's fall. The day Joanna perished."** 

Dawn found Bai Lang in the ossuary gardens, Adern's breath hot with adolescent urgency. **"Father's banquet tonight—Foltest will attend. Whatever game you play, mutant, I'll—"** 

**"—ensure the wine flows freely,"** Bai Lang interrupted, watching ravens spiral above the northwest tower. Their cries shaped a name: *Devyn*. 

As shadows lengthened, the witcher's fingers brushed the queen's intercepted letter—its viper seal cracking to reveal truths best swallowed with Black Blood's bitterness. Somewhere beyond the moat, a Carrion Sovereign's howl threaded through the coming storm.