The Divine Hunter

Chapter 630: The Dust Is Settled

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

Most sorcerers still thought witchers were the same thing they were a hundred years ago. Nothing but obsolete experiments that should’ve died out. Witchers had always been neglected by humans and sorcerers. They were treated with disdain and scorn. No matter where they were, witchers belonged to a lowly fringe community.

Despite their skills and frequent killings of powerful monsters across the world, all they had going for them was strength. They should not be treated as a sorcerer’s equal. The latter could control chaos energy, after all. Despite years of effort, all the witcher brotherhood managed to do was to flatten part of the mountain of discrimination thrown on them.

However, as the sorcerers in Aretuza watched Roy coming in, their stereotype about witchers was shattered. Their pride and arrogance was destroyed by someone they used to look down on. This was a total defeat. If they weren’t locked down by invisible magic, some of the more arrogant sorcerers would’ve taken their own lives out of shame and fury.

Roy ignored the looks he was given. He snapped his fingers, and someone breathed heavily. Linus, who was beside the vase in the east, Adda and Grimm, who were under the tapestry in the west, Philippa and Sigismund before the saffron curtains in the south, Tissaia, Margarita, and a few neutral sorcerers beside the golden pillar in the north, were released from their bondage.

They did not start screaming, however.

Linus gulped. He turned around, looking at the cloaked figure in fear. “What is going on, Roy? How did the bats turn into humans?”

“You’ll have your answer soon.” Roy leapt onto the table in the center, where candelabras and food sat. He looked around, making sure everyone could see him. And he raised his voice. “Sorcerers of the brotherhood and esteemed guests from all the realms, I’m sorry for interrupting your event and using a bit of your time, but by the name of the witcher brotherhood, we mean you no harm. Once this affair is settled, most of you will walk away safely.”

“I’ve heard of the five witcher schools, but what’s a witcher brotherhood? What do you want to do?” Annoyed by how Roy was acting even more pompous than a king, a sorceress stomped her foot, but she couldn’t even speak up strongly. “Working with the Southern sorcerers to hold us at gunpoint? Are you working for Emhyr var Emreis?”

“The witcher brotherhood is just an organization made by nameless people so we can thrive.” Roy met eyes with Geralt and Coen, his voice traveling through the hall. “But we serve no kingdom. Everything we do, we do to aid the brotherhood’s members.”

And then footsteps rang from the hall’s entrance. Eyes flaring like balls of fire appeared in the night, then lean witchers came in, twin swords behind their backs. The oldest witchers, Vesemir and Ivar, took the vanguard. The youngest witchers, with Carl in the lead, took the rear guard. They passed through the crowd and came to Roy’s side, where they stared at the noble hostages around them.

The sorcerers felt their souls freezing up when the witchers looked at them, and they shivered. An army of mutants has been hiding right under our noses? But they’re almost extinct. Where did they get so many new members?

Roy nodded at his companions and continued, “Our brotherhood isn’t just made of sorcerers and witchers. All of you are well-read. Do you know who the people behind you really are?”

“Higher vampires?” Margarita answered hesitantly.

Everyone froze, and they breathed heavier. Higher vampires. One of the strongest and most mysterious creatures in the world. The apex predators. The brotherhood had nothing but scarce information about them. They were as rare as dragons. Every time they appeared, they would leave disaster and death in their wake. Most sorcerers couldn’t even see one in their whole lives, yet today, they were listening to the orders of a witcher. It was unbelievable.

The witcher standing on the table was feeling more titanic with each passing moment. Tissaia clasped her hands before her chest. With a trembling voice, she asked, “So is this an honor? Should we thank you for not killing us? Witcher, I made an exception for you and allowed your entry to this banquet because of Coral and Yen. This is how you repay us? By capturing all the brotherhood’s members and humiliating us?” She looked at Gerhart in worry. “Your rude behavior has caused the greatest sorcerer in the North to suffer a heart attack. His life is at stake. Marti, keep up the procedure!”

The red-haired sorceress on the ground gnashed her teeth. She pushed down on the elderly sorcerer’s chest with her lightning-covered hands. Gerhart’s chest jerked, and he grunted, his eyes snapping open. His breathing was still weak, but at least he survived.

A collective sigh of relief spread through the hall. If Gerhart were to die, the brotherhood would be severely impacted.

“Once again, I apologize. I did not mean you any harm. I told Coral and Triss to remind you of what might happen,” Roy said. “But I have to say, a swift commotion is better than an all-out battle that’ll take the lives of many and ruin Thanedd as well as the Northern brotherhood.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Philippa felt her eyes twitch.

“Don’t play dumb, people. This banquet might look peaceful and happy on the outside…” Roy said knowingly, extending his fingers. He felt a rush of air passing through the cracks. “But in reality, there’s deadly danger hiding within, all because of someone’s political differences. Tissaia, only neutral guys like you have no idea what’s really going on under the surface.”

Tissaia looked upset. No, more than upset. ‘This is the sorcerer brotherhood, not any royal palace. Don’t drag any politics into this.”

“Tissaia, you have to accept the truth.” Triss flung her hair back and went around her mentor. She looked at Roy, and the witcher nodded. “No one told you the truth before this, so I’ll explain everything. Once I’m done, you’ll understand where the witcher brotherhood stands, and why we do this. All the sorcerer brotherhood members here are split into three factions.”

Triss’ voice was silvery, and she looked cute as ever, but there was an air of imperious majesty around her. Everyone listened to her. “First, the royal consultants for the Northern Realms: Phillipa from Redania, Keira and I from Temeria, Radcliffe from Aedirn, and Sabrina from Kaedwen. We stand with the North and vehemently oppose the South. Phillipa is prepared to launch an ambush at midnight tonight and capture all the traitors.”

The conspiring sorcerers hiding in the shadows blanched.

“Is that true?” Margarita looked at the consultant for Redanian royalty and Sigismund in disbelief. “You’re going to launch a coup today and apprehend your colleagues?”

“Whose side are you on, Triss? Why’d you tell everyone about our plans? You just ruined everything!” Philippa was red with fury. The mana raging around her was making the witchers’ medallions buzz, but then the higher vampires shot her killer looks. Philippa shivered and swallowed her words, feeling mortified.

“I did not betray the brotherhood. Let me finish.” Triss looked around. Unperturbed, she continued. “The second faction will be those who remain neutral in politics. The magical scholars. Tissaia, Gerhart, Margarita, Marti, Dorregaray of Cidaris, Cadouin of Kovir…”

The people she called nodded, agreeing that they were neutral.

“And the third faction. The traitors hiding among us.” She glared at the stocky man. “One of the five highest ranking members of the brotherhood, Artaud Terranova.”

“You insubordinate, nonsensical harlot!” Artaud swung his dimeritium shackles, shouting at Triss.

Coen slammed his fist into Artaud’s nose. The sorcerer’s nose broke, and blood spurted everywhere. He fell down screaming, curled up like a fat cooked shrimp.

“Witchers, please do not torment my colleagues.” Tissaia’s face was contorted in pain. She said solemnly, “Or I will make you pay no matter what.” As the de facto administrator of Aretuza, she had mastered many powerful spells. She had enough power to crush any invaders, but if she cast any spells, all her colleagues would die as well.

“He’s not innocent!” Philippa roared. She thought the witchers were on her side. “Redania’s spies have found evidence of Terranova’s conspiracy with the South. There’s a list of traitors hidden in his room!”

Portly Sigismund bowed at Tissaia from a distance away. “If you’d like to see it, milady, I can get the evidence and present it to you.”

Tissaia pursed her lips and turned away. Artaud was the color of a headstone, his strength failing him.

Triss continued, “The second traitor is Fercart, former consultant for Foltest.”

The black-haired man beside Artaud, similarly cuffed, shivered. He could feel the looks of suspicion his colleagues around him were giving him, and it pricked his skin. He was humiliated, and he flew into a rage. “Go to hell, you shameless slut! Don’t even try to sully my name!”
“Shut it! His Majesty Foltest and I have already known of your disgusting actions.” Adda shook her head, her eyes burning coldly. “The moment you turned your back on your conscience and took Emhyr’s gold, you should’ve seen this day coming. Grimm, shut their mouths. I do not want to hear these traitors saying anything. They disgust me.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

***

“And the third traitor also comes from the brotherhood. The deceased Vilgefortz.”

“Impossible!” Tissaia roared. “Vilgefortz led the resistance against Nilfgaard in Sodden Hill! He would never conspire with the South!”

“You’re right!” Philippa spoke again. The more panicked those neutral sorcerers were, the happier she was. “Emhyr remembers that battle, so he made up his mind to wipe out all sorcerers from the chessboard. First, he contacted the hero of the battle, Vilgefortz. He then bribed him with glory and power. Once the South attacks the North, under the help of Fercart and Terranova, our hero would’ve taken over the new provinces of Nilfgaard.”

“Vilgefortz’s assistant, Lydia, has joined the witcher brotherhood. She is in a Gors Velen inn as we speak. I can summon her to attest to our statement.”

Tissaia said nothing more. The captured sorcerers were looking at her differently. Two spies were hiding in the council of five. They wondered if…

“Go on, Triss!” Philippa was rosy with excitement. She felt an orgasmic ecstasy coming out of her body. It was fun humiliating the hypocritical neutral sorcerers and allies of the South right in front of everyone. Oh, witchers. You’re so lovable.

“The fourth traitor is… Francesca.” Triss turned to the elven lady beside Roy. She was elegant, her hair tied into a braid. “Emhyr promised freedom for elves and a land to themselves. That land goes by the name of Dol Blathanna, and so, Francesca betrayed the North.”

“So why isn’t she captured?” Philippa didn’t go on a frontal assault. She wasn’t sure how the witchers would deal with Francesca.

“I do not believe she’s a traitor.” Tissaia looked at Francesca expectantly, praying that she would deny the allegations.

Margarita, the weakened Gerhart, and all allies of elfkind turned to Francesca, holding their breaths. Francesca met eyes with the witcher on the table, and she smiled bitterly. Now that she’d joined him in this event, her and her kind had no other choice. They had nowhere else to go.

Locks of golden hair brushed her cheek. The most beautiful woman in the world, the Daisy of the Valley, Francesca, spoke in a singsong voice, telling everyone the thing Roy requested her to. “My brethren, the Scoia’tael, are hiding in the cellar, waiting to ambush and kill all Northern sorcerers in Garstang tomorrow, where a dimeritium barrier will be erected. Vavortame, Dh’oieadi. That is all I can say to you, humans.”

Her voice was beautiful, but the things she said were chilling. Tissaia hung her head low, hope dashed. Gerhart held his chest and coughed violently, disappointment filling his face. What Francesca said hurt the hearts of all who stood with non-humans.

“The irony. You guys started this meeting just to convince the royal consultants to pressure our kings into stopping the oppression on non-humans, but this elven bitch was plotting to kill her allies.”

Philippa grinned and turned to Roy and his companions. “Witchers, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. If your higher vampire allies hadn’t interfered, the outcome of this battle would still be uncertain.”

And just like that, Philippa snapped all the sorcerers out of their stupor. Not only were there consultants and spies of the Northern Realms in the hall, but there were also traitors and Scoia’tael hiding among them, ready to kill. The North and South would fight again, and only the ones who stayed neutral were in the dark. If the witchers hadn’t interfered and kept everyone under control, a fierce battle would’ve happened, and the results would be devastating.

When they realized the horrifying truth that would’ve happened, the sorcerers thought it wasn’t bad being captured.

With Marti’s help, Gerhart stood up. He had a weird look on his face, and he asked, “So this is your brotherhood’s goal, Roy? To stop the coup on Thanedd?” Over his long, long life, he’d never seen help delivered in such a unique way. It was annoying how pushy Roy was, but he had to thank the witcher.

“Just in a day’s work.” Roy nodded. “You should thank Triss, Coral, and Yennefer. If it weren’t for their reluctance to see your members killing one another and Aretuza turning into ruins, we’d never have done this. My brotherhood’s not interested in this matter.”

“Don’t you think this is a bit harsh? Couldn’t you have done it in a gentler way?” Margarita patted her chest. The sudden change was still making her reel. “Couldn’t you have told us about the dangers in secret so we could prepare for it?” She held the arm of Coral, her best friend and Roy’s lover. Mustering her courage, she said, “You’re just trying to show your strength and protest to the sorcerers who have been nothing but arrogant.”

Roy smiled, but he said nothing. The disgraced sorcerers felt their blood boil, but all they could do was turn an angry red.

“Headmistress, you’re too obsessed with magic, and it’s fried your brain. Sorcerers only respect people with knowledge, status, or power. Of course the witchers have to demonstrate their power to keep things under control.” Philippa roared in laughter. She looked at Roy with passion and damiration. “I like how you do things. Straightforward and decisive. You nip all the problems in the bud so things will happen how you want them to.”

“Very smart,” praised Tissaia, though she didn’t fully mean that. “You have succeeded. I now see how precarious and complex a situation Thanedd is in. I understand why you did what you had to. So before any harm is done, can you release everyone? By the name of Thanedd’s headmistress, no one will get back at you. I will not allow that to happen.”

“They’d think twice before they try to do anything.” Gerhart stroked his beard and smiled. He added, “If they do harm you, they’ll then have to figure out how to escape an army of higher vampires. And today’s experience is an interesting one. More than a hundred higher vampires standing with us.”

Roy fell silent, musing. The sorcerers were silent too, afraid Roy would refuse Tissaia’s request.

“Hey, don’t release them just yet. You missed a group of people,” Philippa quickly interrupted. “Cuff Francesca, the Scoia’tael guys in the cellar, and all the remaining traitors. I, Sabrina, Radcliffe, Keira, and Triss are going to deal with them. No survivors will be left.”

Fercart and Terranova were horrified. If the Northern Realms’ consultants took them away, they would die.

“What do you want to do? Tie them to the stake?” Tissaia retorted, arguing, “They will be judged by us. The affairs of magical academia should not have anyone’s political stance involved.”

“These traitors broke my heart, but they haven’t done anything that’s too big to heal. They don’t deserve death.” Margarita shrugged, looking at Coral with a plea in her eyes, but Coral shook her head.

She didn’t want to leave any potential hazards alive to threaten the brotherhood. Gerhart, an ally of elves, said nothing. He was tired of this incessant fighting.

“You want the brotherhood to deal with them? What, you’ll lock them up for decades so they can repent?” Philippa laughed mirthlessly. “And then these criminals will escape because of one small oversight, then they’ll go to the South and come back to us for revenge. They’ll destroy Aretuza.”

“Enough. Don’t try to destroy the brotherhood’s unity with conjectures.” Tissaia punched the pillar, her billowing hair covering her face. “Triss, you work for the Northern kings, while Fercart and Artaud are serving a ruler as well. They only picked the South because they were blinded by power. The North and South are nothing but political cesspools for the world of magical academia. They are both the same. Fercart and Artaud are a part of our community. They should be given a second chance.”

The sorcerers fell into silence, musing over Tissaia’s speech.

“People, I agree with the fact that magic should not be differentiated by borders.” Sigismund suddenly bowed to the sorcerers, his eyes twinkling with justice. And then, he loudly said what he’d been trying to say, “But don’t forget, sorcerers do have loyalties to different kingdoms. All of you are a part of the Northern brotherhood. Every decision you make should be based on the Northern Realms and its people, who are about to face war! Traitors must pay dearly, or it will be unfair to our warriors who fight to the last breath to protect their kingdoms!”

The roar echoed in everyone’s ears. Sigismund paused, heaving a worried sigh. “And earlier at midnight, I received latest intel speaking of a large Nilfgaardian troop gathering at the borders of Lyria and Rivia. They must be waiting for their allies on Thanedd to launch the coup, and that would be their cue to start the second war. That is pure evil. Do you still want to argue on how we should show mercy to these traitors?”

The dim hall fell into a pregnant pause. Fercart and Artaud hung their heads low, despair filling their hearts. Tissaia said nothing, while Gerhart heaved a heavy sigh. He turned his attention to those who could make the shots here.

***

The time is ripe. Roy broke the silence. “We will hand over most of the traitors to Aedirn, Redania, Kaedwen, and Temeria, but that does not include Francesca and the Scoia’tael members hiding in the cellar. From today onward, Aen Elle will be the allies of the witcher brotherhood. They will be under our protection.”

The higher vampires, witchers, and the brotherhood’s sorceresses shot everyone warning looks. “Any attacks on Aen Elle will be seen as provocation. The brotherhood and all our allies will crush anyone who attacks the elves.”

Philippa and Sigismund’s jaws slacked. What? They’re going to let those traitors leave and terrorize the North? But things were going so well. Why’d the witcher change their minds?

The other sorcerers were surprised by the change, and they were bemused.

Francesca suddenly spoke up, gently but adamantly explaining Roy’s decision, “My colleagues, from today onward, I and my kind, the warriors of Scoia’tael, will back out from the agreement with Nilfgaard. We will no longer take part in any war between the South and the North.” I’m sorry. I cannot save the children who died, but I will not let any more of them sacrifice themselves. Aen Elle should return to their other homeland now, she said in her mind, and the elven queen composed herself.

“Henceforth, Scoia’tael will not meddle with the Continent’s political or military landscape.” Francesca’s voice echoed in the hall. “We are no longer involved in any more battles.”

***

The dramatic event sealed the fate of many, and the curtains of the would-be coup drew shut before it could begin. The waves roared, slamming against the reefs. Once again, the palace was brightly lit. Light pierced through the veil of darkness, and dawn broke through the horizon.