The Witcher: Lord of the Empire

Under the effect of the Axii Sign, Duke aep Dahy became an open book, holding nothing back.

"By tradition, after ascending the throne, His Majesty is expected to select a young woman of marriageable age from among the Empire's noble families as Empress, in order to preserve the purity of the imperial bloodline."

"However, some time ago, we received intelligence from a spy inside the court. It seems His Majesty has been secretly assigning tasks to his spies and sorcerers—to search for Cirilla, with the intent of marrying her and making her Empress."

"Joachim and I are both veterans who have served three reigns. We cannot tolerate the Emperor acting so arbitrarily in matters like this... So we hoped to teach him a lesson on the front lines and force him to compromise."

…

How bold—these court nobles.

Everyone silently marveled in their hearts. As enemies, they had to respect such old aristocrats who dragged their political infighting all the way to the battlefield.

Honestly, in a critical battle, these nobles could cause more damage to Nilfgaard than a hundred thousand troops ever could.

After that, the group began reacting to the 'Emperor wants to marry Ciri' intel with varying responses.

There were four main kinds:

First were those like the adjutants brought by Marshal Vissegerd and some dwarf commanders unfamiliar with deeper intelligence. After a moment of thought, they believed they had uncovered the truth—that by marrying into Cirilla's bloodline, Emperor Emhyr would gain legal claim to rule Cintra. Given Cintra's strategic position as the gateway to the North, Princess Cirilla was certainly worthy of an imperial throne.

Second were people like Eist, Mousesack, and Crach, who already knew the truth about Emhyr's identity through Lann. They knew Emhyr was none other than Prince Duny, the former son-in-law of Cintra—Ciri's father. So to them, the idea was laughable. They considered Duke aep Dahy's intelligence network within the Empire to be utterly useless.

Third was Ciri herself. She hadn't yet been told the truth by Lann, but as the subject of this 'intel', she felt utterly disgusted.

Fourth was Lann.

The Lion rubbed his temples. He knew that Emhyr was completely serious about this.

At this point in time, Emhyr really did want to become a twisted father-husband.

On the matter of the Elder Blood, Emhyr had been completely misled by Vilgefortz.

Currently, he was unwilling to acknowledge Ciri as his daughter, and didn't want anyone to know that he had once gone by the name 'Duny'—a period of his life he considered shameful. Yet at the same time, he still wanted to integrate the Elder Blood into the Nilfgaardian royal line in order to gain the power to 'conquer the world'.

Driven by this twisted motive, he created what would become his most infamous meme—one that would get any book banned the moment it was mentioned.

…

"Lann."

Lann felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked down and met the watery eyes of the little princess.

Given the number of subjects present, Lann refrained from patting her head—out of respect for her dignity.

"We'll talk later, Ciri. But prepare yourself mentally..." he whispered. Then he patted his own face to snap himself out of it.

The information Duke aep Dahy had provided was far more valuable than anticipated.

"Let's set aside Emperor Emhyr's true intentions for now. But the reactions of these two frontline commanders are something we can definitely exploit. It will be a great advantage in our offensive against the Western Army Group."

"Originally, I planned to squeeze every last bit of intelligence out of Ardal and then use him as a ceremonial execution, but now… we can make sure his death will be even more 'meaningful.'"

After thinking for a moment, he turned and issued a new order: "Enns, draft a letter to Emperor Emhyr. The content should state that we've captured his Eastern Front commander—one of the very men who helped restore him to the throne. If he wants Duke aep Dahy to remain unharmed, he must follow Northern customs and pay a ransom, then withdraw his troops from Cintra. You can fine-tune the wording as you see fit."

"Make the delivery as public as possible. Ensure that the intelligence agents those old nobles planted in the palace all catch wind of it."

"Once you're done writing Emhyr's letter, send another one to Foltest of Temeria. Include all the intel Ardal just revealed. If the enemy has already marked them as a strategic target, I refuse to believe he'll remain indifferent this time."

Though his relationship with Foltest wasn't great, Lann still had faith in the king's military instincts. With luck, they might even secure reinforcements.

He then turned to Letho.

"I need our front-line guerrillas to spread a message among the Western Army Group: that after capturing Duke aep Dahy, the Cintrans, following Northern wartime conventions, attempted to negotiate with Emperor Emhyr—but the Emperor, hot-tempered and unwilling to compromise, furiously rejected them and even personally dispatched assassins into Cintra."

Lann pointed at Duke aep Dahy, who was still dazed from the effects of the Axii Sign.

"Duke aep Dahy was a true hardliner. Even after being captured, he showed astounding willpower and refused to divulge any information to the Cintrans. Tragically, however, he was killed by assassins from his own side. Nilfgaard never compromises. The Lion of Cintra, furious over losing such a valuable prisoner, flew into a rage… Something like that. You can polish it up later."

Letho narrowed his amber serpent eyes slightly and nodded. Behind him, Kolgrim couldn't suppress the smile creeping across his face.

Hearing this, everyone else turned their eyes toward Duke aep Dahy.

Looking at the still-groggy commander of the Eastern Army Group, they unconsciously let go of their hatred.

"In a sense, we're just helping fulfill Duke aep Dahy's last wish. After all, their whole plan was to cause 'trouble' for the Emperor." Kolgrim said, swaying his head with amusement.

Now it wasn't just Kolgrim—everyone was fighting back smiles.

Just as the Cintran commanders finalized their course of action...

On the other side of Brokilon Town—and beyond even the Brokilon Forest itself—a hoof stepped down onto a patch of dry, solid earth.

Looking upward, the black fur faded to reveal pale skin beneath, inked with enchantingly suggestive magical tattoos. Higher still rose a pair of dainty goat horns—and a face that combined both sultry charm and innocent playfulness.

This was Nanomi, the superior succubus that Lann had hired as a Follower and brought from Skellige.

Even back on the islands, she preferred staying away from crowds. After arriving in Cintra, she chose to dwell deep in the Brokilon Forest.

She got along well with the dryads, occasionally joining their 'festivals' with humans to satisfy the needs of her kind.

But now, the succubus had crossed mountains and forests.

Before her lay a fog-shrouded valley, filled with thousands of burial mounds and gravestones as far as the eye could see.

Some gravestones were unremarkable—just coarse, unshaped stone slabs. Others were smooth and carved into obelisks or monuments. In the center of this stony wilderness stood more elaborate structures—stone canopies, barrows, and ringed stone circles, clearly not the work of nature.

This was Fen Carn, a massive elven cemetery located in Sodden.

Though elven rule had long been overthrown by humans, this cemetery was preserved for its 'historical and artistic value'. Barely, but officially, it counted as a tourist attraction in Sodden.

Due to the later Battle of Sodden Hill, this place had long since been abandoned. Ordinary humans were reluctant to approach an elven cemetery, but war refugees didn't mind spending the night here. The stone canopies and ringed stone circles in the center were the handiwork of these displaced people.

Nanomi—whose age likely surpassed the sum of the corpses buried beneath the nearby tombstones—strolled among them without the slightest psychological burden, muttering to herself.

"Excellent, I've found the elven cemetery. Now I just need to look for a hut nearby… Wait!"

Her nose twitched sharply. The air was saturated with the pungent scent of herbs—wormwood, basil, sage, star anise, and cinnamon.

"Ha." A radiant smile bloomed across Nanomi's face—one bright enough to make the entire town of Brokilon forget all about the dryads. "Come on out, old friend. I've found you!"

From behind a gravestone came the sharp rasp of nails scraping against stone—a sound that, in this setting, could easily be mistaken for a ghoul.

But then, a plain-looking hand extended from behind the gravestone, holding what looked like the root of a plant shaped like a child.

And soon after, a man with silver-streaked hair, a noble's hooked nose, and deep black eyes slowly emerged from behind it. He was gaunt, his figure thin and scholarly.

"It's been a long time… Nanomi. Just to be clear, I wasn't hiding from you. It's just—this mandrake root is so pristine, I couldn't resist…"

Nanomi's smile only grew wider. Yet the man before her, despite facing a completely naked succubus whose allure could outshine every dryad in Brokilon, remained utterly unmoved.

As if the tempting sight before him paled in comparison to the herbal root in his hand.

Fortunately, his attention returned soon enough.

"I didn't know you were coming today... There's a beautiful flower field nearby. Would you like to see it?"

"Of course." Nanomi seemed genuinely intrigued by the suggestion. "But not just yet. I heard you've been living in seclusion around here. Are you working as an herbalist?"

"Technically speaking, I'm a 'barber-surgeon,'" the man replied with a dry smile. "The recent war has left many refugees in its wake. I provide them with medicinal potions and treat their more dangerous wounds."

"Ha. And what do they pay you with? Help gathering herbs? Or do they just 'pay' in blood?"

"Neither. It's free," the man said leisurely. "I told you long ago—our kind does not require blood to survive."

"Hahahahaha…" Nanomi burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. "You really ought to let those fools who call you a vampire see what you're doing. It's hilarious!"

"'Vampire' is the polite term. Most just call us 'blood-sucking freaks' or 'monsters,'" the man said, still unbothered. "But I understand it. Humans have always feared the powerful and the unknown."

"That doesn't change my view of life. I still believe there's a shining brilliance within human nature."

"Alright, alright, great philosopher. I always enjoy talking to you. You're far more entertaining than the rest of your kin with your serious demeanor." Nanomi gave her cheeks a playful slap, and in her unashamed state of undress, the gesture caused quite the ripple.

"So tell me, Nanomi—what made you come looking for me all of a sudden? When was the last time we met? Decades ago? Centuries?" The man gently brushed the last bits of dirt off the mandrake root in his hand. "I heard you were living quite comfortably in Skellige. You should've stayed. Things aren't exactly peaceful here lately. I've even been considering relocating…"

The succubus smiled.

"You'd never guess my reason."

"I've discovered Elder Blood. Not just one, but several bearers. They're not fully matured yet, but their strength is already astounding."

"The Conjunction of the Spheres is fast approaching. The White Frost draws nearer with every passing moment. We've both witnessed it before—we know just how horrific it can be. That's why I've joined the side of the Elder Blood. It's the wisest choice."

"And then I thought of you, my old friend Regis. As fellow travelers from the last Conjunction, I knew you'd be interested in the Elder Blood too."

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