The Witcher: Lord of the Empire

The Nilfgaardian mages watched in dismay as their spells failed to pierce Lann's shield. The chaotic energy swirling around them only grew more intense.

A searing heat rose in their palms—it was the most destructive and violent of the four elemental disciplines: fire magic!

With a thunderous boom, a massive explosion erupted where Lann had been standing. A shockwave of enormous force spread outward from the blast.

Duke aep Dahy was more anxious than the allied soldiers themselves—his heart leapt into his throat. But as the smoke cleared, all that remained was a charred patch of earth, the top layer scorched away. There was no sign of the Lion of Cintra.

"Ah!"

Screams and shouts of alarm erupted from within the camp. A sudden commotion had broken out.

Following the noise, Duke aep Dahy turned to see that the Lion of Cintra—who just moments earlier had been standing dead center in the blast zone—had inexplicably crossed dozens of meters in an instant and now stood beside an allied soldier, his body still shimmering faintly with magical light.

Several arcs of light streaked across the battlefield as Lann effortlessly cut down the black-clad Nilfgaardian soldiers surrounding the allied elites—slicing through them like chopping vegetables. Then, with a light tap on the shoulder of the nearby ally, he vanished before Duke aep Dahy and the mages could even react.

This same scene repeated multiple times: Lann, now transformed into a golden streak of light, flickered throughout the Nilfgaardian center ranks. Each time, he would defuse the danger around an allied soldier, tap them lightly, and disappear again.

His movements—his sword strikes—were so fast that everything happened in the blink of an eye.

Before the Nilfgaardians could respond, Lann had already completed a full circuit among the allied troops, strolling casually as though it were a garden walk, then vanished in a final burst of light.

This time, Lann didn't reappear in front of the Nilfgaardian soldiers.

Instead, every single allied soldier began to glow with a brilliant emerald light.

[Teleportation]

As the glow faded and vision returned, Lann stepped onto the walls of Lyria's capital.

Taking advantage of the time-slowing effect granted by the ability, he quickly scanned the situation. Some of the black-clad Nilfgaardians had already begun replacing Lyria's defending troops on the walls, but the transition wasn't complete—the Nilfgaardians still made up less than a third of the total force atop the battlements.

Good.

Even before his greaves fully touched down on the stone, Lann vanished again in a flash—this time charging directly into a Nilfgaardian squad.

A pivot step, a shoulder twist, a waist turn, a spin—[Whirl]!

He drew the Alice Scimitar alongside his main blade and dual-wielded the weapons in a deadly ballet of flashing steel. His blades danced through the crowd with precise control, avoiding every Lyria soldier and slipping seamlessly through the gaps in the Nilfgaardian armor.

By the time Lann had completed a full circle within the group, the Lyria defenders finally realized what had happened. Watching the Nilfgaardians beside them spew blood before collapsing to the ground, they stared at Lann's back in stunned silence and murmured: "…Reinforcements?"

At that same moment, the allied soldiers whom Lann had just teleported to the wall began regaining their senses.

Lann casually tossed a crest—one he had previously obtained from Queen Meve—to a Lyria knight who had followed him.

"Take command of the city's defenders and organize a counterattack. Once I kill their commander, we'll coordinate with the forces outside the city and crush the Nilfgaardians from both sides. Understood?"

The soldiers who had come with Lann for this mission were all elite troops from both kingdoms. The one he chose for this task was a member of Queen Meve's personal guard, already holding an officer's rank. Organizing a counteroffensive was well within his capabilities.

They had prepared for the worst-case scenario—Lyria already fallen. But since Lyria still had the strength to fight back, it was crucial to make full use of it.

Seeing the Lyria soldiers still dazed, Lann frowned and suddenly shouted: "For Queen Meve!"

At once, the muscle memory of every Lyria soldier kicked in. Their bodies responded before their minds could, shouting in unison: "For Queen Meve!"

"Good. That's the spirit."

Lann nodded approvingly, tossed his cloak, and turned back toward the battlefield.

Among those teleported to the wall, the surviving Aedirnian troops grew restless. Rayla called out: "Duke Lannister! What about us? Are you going to face them alone?"

Lann paused, then shook his head.

"The routed troops need as many officers as possible to reorganize. You'll be far more useful here."

"I hate to say it, but if you're with me, you'll just get in the way."

With that, the emerald light flared once more, and the Lion vanished before Rayla's disheartened eyes.

…

Elsewhere, Nilfgaardian soldiers were on high alert, frantically searching after losing sight of Lann.

Mage Albrich, under Duke aep Dahy's urgent supervision, was once again attuning himself to the spatial fluctuations in the air, trying to locate Lann's sudden disappearance.

"We absolutely cannot let Lannister escape!"

Albrich was drenched in sweat as a sudden realization struck him—something wasn't right.

He could still sense the residual energy left by the Aedirnian mages' initial portal spell, but there was absolutely no trace of magical fluctuations from the Lion of Cintra's movements.

It was as if Lann had never used magic to teleport around the battlefield at all.

Of course, Albrich couldn't report it that way. He merely said, "Duke aep Dahy, since they launched a surprise attack and sacrificed so many lives, they must be plotting something. There's no way they just retreated…"

"You want to pin the success of our operation on luck—and the enemy's plan?!" Ardal had completely shed the grace of a court noble. "We must seize control of the situation ourselves. Find him! Now!"

Suddenly, an unexpected voice echoed nearby.

"You both make good points. Were you thinking of me?"

Both Duke aep Dahy and Mage Albrich froze. They turned around—and there he was: the Lion of Cintra had returned without anyone noticing.

He crouched low, golden specks of magic still glittering faintly on his body. His left hand was extended, palm facing the ground.

Duke aep Dahy's face lit up with joy, but Albrich's expression twisted in terror.

The mage could feel it—an overwhelming surge of chaotic energy in the air, wild and ravenous, as if ready to devour all!

[Aard Sign: Aard Sweep – Piercing Cold– Magic Burst]!

Unlike when Lann had used it against that cavalry unit, this version of the sign was utterly different in magnitude. His mana plummeted by half in a single instant—like plunging off a cliff—and continued to evaporate as ancient, glacial winds howled across the battlefield.

It was the kind of cold that would send even a frost giant fleeing into hibernation deep within the mountains.

In a flash, snow and ice engulfed everything in sight.

Screams echoed—but only for a brief moment before falling silent. Flesh, air, and even metal turned brittle and cracked like glass under nature's fury.

Tent after tent was ripped from the earth and hurled into the sky. The banner of the Blue Fox and Black Sun, rooted like an old tree, was torn out entirely and flailed chaotically in midair before being shredded into ribbons.

Lann's face paled slightly. Not since he had wiped out the sirens in Skellige had he cast a Sign with such overwhelming force.

But his alchemical potions quickly kicked in, triggering his body's latent potential. The blend of elixirs and decoctions not only accelerated his mana regeneration—it also scaled with the strength of the Sign he had just cast, allowing him to recover energy even faster.

His labored breathing was loud enough to be heard even over the howling wind. Standing in the eye of the storm, Lann didn't lower the weapon still gripped in his right hand.

Before him stretched a blinding white expanse, like a snowstorm in the heart of the mountains. But through it, he could still sense faint, lingering traces of chaotic magic.

Albrich's hands trembled as he, along with the mage troops behind him, struggled to maintain a flickering magical barrier—barely enough to protect the last remaining high-ranking officers of the Eastern Army Group.

Another boom resounded.

A wave of psychic energy surged toward them like a dragon's roar, nearly knocking Albrich off his feet.

[Aard Sign: Magic Burst]

This time, the Sign didn't carry the power of wind and frost. Instead, it swept away the blizzard-like veil, allowing everyone within the blast radius to glimpse the battlefield at last.

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