Chapter 44: Episode 42

Disclaimer: I don't own Nasuverse or any other franchise that can be found in this fanfiction.

Words Count: 4760

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read way more than 10 Episodes in advanced plus my other fic: Ars Goetia– Antichrist here.

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor

A/N: Here you go. I’ll say more, but my sleep schedule is fucked up beyond saving. I’m gonna need to get some of that before I fall over. Please enjoy yourself and as always, don’t be a stranger.

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Crow’s Perch.

One of the first area to be visited in Wild Hunt.

I was sick of this place already.

I had lost count of the times I had to through the entire Hold just to interact with the Baron, it was sickening.

Logically, it made sense that the Hold would only have on entrance leading up the Baron and his family. It’s so the they would be better protected, yet for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why the developers didn’t just make another, easy-to-access shortcut to the mansion. It would have certainly made the experience more enjoyable than having to walk up the peasants-filled path.

My time spent in Crow’s Perch had been peaceful with the Wardstone doing its job nearly perfectly. While the Bloody Baron did try to goad me into downing alcohols with him, he was polite about it, or as polite as a war commander could be anyway. Still, I was thankful he did not try to force me. I utterly abhorred alcohols of all kinds, and I liked Phillip Strenger.

It would have a shame to create a disconnect in our friendship because of those poisons.

Sadly, I was growing tired of Crow’s Perch.

Seriously, the mere sight of the Hold made me want to puke my guts out, and the smell of unwashed peasants was not helping either.

Thank the Gods Ciri and I were leaving today to find the Bloody Baron’s lost family, as promised by the Witcheress.

I knew exactly where Anna Strenger– His bitch of a wife was, and I knew where his senseless daughter was living as well. Honestly, I half-wanted to murder Anna, since Phillip deserved better than an unfaithful wife who sold her soul to the Crones and killed their second-born just to spite him, but I also knew without his family, Phillip Strenger would hang himself in his office the moment we left, leaving no one to reign in his ragtag army.

Now, while my experience in Crow’s Perch had been terrible thus far, and the peasants were a suspicious, judgmental bunch, that did not in itself earn them a lifetime of slavery, rape and oppression from the Baron’s troops, which was why I had decided to save the orphans of Crookback Bog and the bitch. With orphans being the priority and Anna Strenger as the add-on. If she died? Well, nothing could be done about that.

I could just tell Phillip his wife wanted him to raise the orphans or something, it should keep him from committing suicide. Sure, the guy might be miserable for a while, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with his toxic cunt of a wife, and with the children by his side, he might even make a full recovery one day. I doubted Ciri would see things my way though, that girl was a sticker for justice, you see.

A product of being raised by Geralt, plus her own experience travelling through Worlds. Gosh, the more I mentioned it, the more similarities I found in Ciri and my favorite ‘Heroine of Justice’. I wondered what she and Rin were doing… Knowing Shiro, if she was made aware of my predicament, she might just jump into the Star-Gate prototype to ‘save’ me. Hopefully, Gil and Rin would be able to talk the girl out of it.

I did not want to return and made to face news of Shiro’s demise in the Void Between Universes, I did not teach her Magecraft and Sword Style just so she could throw it all away when I– The victim of Kotomine’s treachery, was perfectly safe.

I sighed at the thoughts of home. I could probably build another Star-Gate, stuck the receiver pearl on it and go home, but that in itself presented a few problems. Firstly, this World had too much to explore, too many possibilities and opportunities for me to simply pass it up. Second, the receiver pearl was relatively new tech. Although I had experimented with it, a single mistake could fling Universes away from my destination…

I wanted to wait until I had grafted the Elder Blood into my DNA sequence, which would overload the pearl with Space-Time Mana, enough to boost its signal with Star-Gate back home.

Lastly, I owed Gaunter O’Dimm a debt I intended to pay. If I broke our pact, I was certainly he would come after me. He might be prevented by the Swirl of Existence, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have others do the job for him, and even if I did somehow survive all his tricks, I’d never be able to traverse between Universes ever again, not with him guarding just beyond the rim of the Nasu-Multiverse.

Speaking about O’Dimm, where the fuck was he? Who were these Seven I was to kill? Olgierd was a given, the guy owed O’Dimm his soul, but what about the other six? Why hadn’t that scummy Devil given me their names yet?

I was genuinely confused. I thought my time on this planet would a massive hunt all over the continent, and while travelling with Ciri was indeed fun, I simply couldn’t shake off the uneasiness in my stomach. It’s a feeling not too dissimilar from the one I often got before finishing school assignments and essays, an urge that kept nagging away at the back of my head.

It’s really uncomfortable…

I groaned, muttering. “Whatever, he will tell me when it’s time. No reason to get all worked up for nothing.” I told myself that, yet the uneasiness did not dissipate, if anything, it had only grown stronger. I could practically see Gaunter O’Dimm– The creepy, sleazy merchant that he was, smirking at me from whichever planet or dimension he currently resided in, sending goosebumps down my limbs.

“Are you alright, Leonis? You’re looking rather pale…” I quickly waved off Ciri’s concern, a bit too quickly, causing the Witcheress to stare at me with suspicion and worry. “If you’re feeling tired, you don’t have to come along. I know where Anna Strenger’s at, I can bring her back on my own.”

“Nice try, Princess. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” I shook, chuckling as I leaped on my new black steed. “Beside, I have a debt to pay to the ones responsible for the disappearance of Phillip’s family.”

Ciri’s eyes widened.

“Are they the people who–?” I interjected with a snort, Mana surging, expression murderous. “Yes, they’re the cunts who cursed me. I’m planning on stomping their heads to paste…”

Of course, that option was rather unrealistic. It wasn’t like the Crones would stand still for me to violently send them to the other side, which was why, after a short moment of thought, I shrugged and added. “Failing that, I’ll settle for bisecting them into pieces.”

Ciri got on her white mare as well. It’s the one she won from racing the Baron a few days prior. I must admit, it was quite the pretty thing, but my black steed was still the best. “Are you sure your Ward will–”

I interjected with a faux stuck-up face. “It’s called Bounded Field, and yes, I’ve tested it extensively, it will work. Maybe not one hundred percent of the time, but it’s a close ninety. We shouldn’t be pursued by monsters along the way, not anymore than the usual person.”

Honestly, if I was in her position, I’d have refused to let myself accompany her on what was supposed to be a dangerous trip, filled with drowners and hags, but the ashen-haired Witcheress, being the reckless tomboy that she was, just told me a fancier, medieval version of ‘good enough’, and galloped away on her white mare. I followed closely behind, attention trained on the Wardstone.

Despite the circumstance of its creation, I had made the thing to last.

Still, there were always the possibilities of it malfunctioning, and should that happen, I’d not be caught dead in the forest with the Crones’ Curse in effect again.

That was a mess I absolutely did not want a repeat…

Perhaps seeing I was so deep in thoughts, Ciri began. “So–”

I looked up, a confused look marring my features. “So?”

“What was your World like? Prettier than mine, I hope?” Ciri laughed, and I could tell she was talking about the state her continent was in. Wars ravaging and spreading from North to South, monsters lurking in every nook and cranny, drawn by scent of deaths and destruction.

I had spent one week here, just one and already I had seen at least three hundreds bodies, from peasants to bandits and soldiers, littering the roads. Some were even hung and bagged, likely a product of the Eternal Flame’s influence having grown in Velen. ‘Fucking Radovid and his piece of shit religion.’

“Well, it depends on which part, I suppose? The archipelago I live on is quite peaceful. There are gangs and the likes called the yakuza, but they usually don’t bother you unless you give them a good reason to.” I paused, remembering home. Gosh, I even missed Taiga now. “In fact, two of my friends are quite influential in my side of town. One is essentially the adopted granddaughter of the oyabun, while the other is the Second Owner.”

“Oyabun? Second Owner?” Ciri repeated questioningly, her amber-green eyes seemingly shinning at the thoughts of my World and I had to agree with her. Modern people like you and I often took it for granted, spat on it even, but compared to Ciri’s planet, it was practically Heaven.

A place where most barbaric practices had been abolished by the laws.

Where people could take a piss and shit in peace, without fear of peeping tom or wild animals trying to take a bite out of their asses.

Where we had fucking bidets instead of leaves to wipe with.

Sure, there were your typical Mages, Apostles and remaining Phantasm Beasts, but those were a dime a dozen, as opposed to this planet, where you could find a magical creature just twenty feet off the main roads feasting on some poor sods’ corpses. Say what you wanted about Earth and its Governments, but we had managed to build a system that, while flawed, was quite solid. “Oyabuns are heads of criminal organizations, and despite how it sounds, some are actually good people.

Second Owners are a thing since the Dark Age, a sort of system where a land would have two lords or ladies, one governs the mundane size of things, the other deals with the more magical threats. After Mages started to disappear from the public eyes thanks to the Witch Hunts and Burning, this system remains, but the majority of the population are mostly unaware of the Second Owners.” I paused, allowing Ciri to shoot her questions.

“Mages disappear? What about the monsters? What do these… Second Owners actually do?”

“Yes, Mages disappear from the limelight to protect themselves and their heritages. The weakening of Magecraft factors in as well. As for Phantasm Beasts, I haven’t seen one my entire life. Most live in dimensions separate from Mankind, those that remain are all intelligent beings that do not overtly broadcast their presences to the World at large. And lastly–” You know? That’s a good question, what did Second Owners do really?

“… I’m not well-versed in the jobs of Second Owners, but I do know a few things my friend– Rin mentioned. Second Owners are responsible for rogue Mages, Vampires and Phantasm Beasts residing in their territories. If those guys go out of line, it’s their job to reign them in, and if needed, terminate them. But that’s all, I think? They don’t take taxes, they don’t have troops, but each has their own businesses, incomes and usually is a army on their own.”

Clearly, that was not enough to satisfy the Witcheress, thus began our game of ‘twenty questions’. I wasn’t annoyed at Ciri’s enthusiasm, unlike some people, I had grown to appreciate the Modern World. There were plenty of things I disliked, things that ultimately led to my suicide, things I was sure others would disagree with me. Still, I tried my best to answer her questions truthfully, without my own biases.

I doubted the Witcheress would ever visit, but if she did, it’s better she formed her own opinions about those things herself. Though, the fact that her voice was quite pleasant, plus her being a beautiful young woman might have influenced my emotion as well. Usually, I could barely endure a five minutes conversation before shutting down, or just straight up leaving. Yeah, it was bad being an introvert, but it did give me an unfair advantage to others during Covid.

I was proud to say I had only contracted the virus once throughout the entire outbreak!

Unexpectedly, no monster interrupted us the entire trip, which felt weird after being besieged by hoards of them previously, but it was a welcome change. Hell, I was certain the two of us had a hand in the situation too. We had slaughtered so many wild predators and monsters that none was left, and those that did remain would probably move out, perceiving us to be the apex predators in the surrounding area, which frankly was a fair assessment.

Ciri and I were quite the pair.

Those old Crones wouldn’t know what hit them.

As with all ancient monsters, they were prideful, arrogant and that shall be their undoing.

The second I caught a glimpse of their silhouettes, I would activate both [Petal Burst] and [Reinforcement], used in tandem with [Longsword Of Silence], I was sure I could cut down at least two of the Crones. Ciri would be responsible for the last should the bitch somehow survived my attack, which was why I had given her another, better Black Key, since the last was getting rather worn out from all the fighting we did.

It would also dish out the ‘Great Equalizer’, also known as fire-damage just to be extra.

It’s a foolproof plan.

Slaying them the moment they arrived.

The World would be a better place without those old witches anyway, as for that one village they protected in exchange for human sacrifices? Fuck them. If the other villages could survive without the protection of the witches, then they could too. Even if they did complain, what were they going to do? Attack us? I’d slice those peasants’ necks faster than they could spell lynch.

Fucking swamp-dwelling savages.

Now, you might think it’s unfair and uncalled for that I treated them like that, but everyone, and I did mean everyone associated with the Crones had been put on my shit-list the moment they cursed me. Beside, these were the same people who let those old things feast on the flesh and blood of their own children and travelers from afar, they did not deserve an ounce of mercy from me, and I certainly would not lose any sleep, or even bat an eye at their demises.

Sadly, we had to leave our new steeds at that same village– Downwarren, even its fucking name sounded miserable.

Why? Because while Roach might have had little trouble trudging through the filthy swamp, our steeds weren’t up for the job. Or rather, videogame logics did not apply, meaning the horses could get stuck or injured pretty easily in that environment, especially with drowners swarming the place and hags flinging a mixture of muds and shits around like it was going out of style. As for the main roads, they were all made of literal sticks!

They were unfit for humans, let alone the weight of two fifteen-hundreds pounds horses plus us.

“Ah, travelers! Welcome to our humble village, what can I do for ya’?” The NPC asked, his neck covered by woods-carved charms and symbols that had similarities to Nordic Runes, yet not quite the same. Probably the Crones’ protection symbols or some bullshit like that.

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“Talk about drinking the Kool-Aid…” I whispered, leaping down from my horse as Ciri imitated me. “We’re here for an audience with the Ladies of the Wood, they’re expecting us, I’m sure.”

Next to him, a familiar blind elder muttered incoherently, as though speaking to someone or something in her head, before gesturing at another direction and croaking. “Yes, yes. They have told me about you! The Swallow and the Lion… South-West from here lies a mountain, the Ladies await you both there.”

Wait, I remembered this old hag! She was the one who made Geralt search for a coin in a lake. A fucking lake! Fuck this old hag, that part of the Bald Mountain mission was tedious as fuck. “Hey, shouldn’t we look for Anna first?”

The ashen-haired Witcheress chipped in on the side, and I shook. “It’s useless, the Ladies–” I scowled, while Ciri grimaced, having realized just exactly who, or rather what we were dealing with. “Will not let her go, not without thorough negotiation. We’ll retrieve her and the children afterward. Don’t worry.”

Like that, we set out again.

This was turning into a wild goose-chase… I swore, if those old things made us run somewhere else again, I’d make their deaths a fucking spectacle to witness.

Our path to Bald Mountain was relatively peaceful, though not without monsters we could easily dispatch. Unlike in the game, where the villagers were having a festival at the Crones’ doorstep, the foot of Bald Mountain was desolate. A place no monster dared tread in fear of the Crones. I didn’t blame them, the Crones, while a disappointing fight in Wild Hunt, were far more terrifying in real life.

Their Spells were more powerful, more destructive, and most of all, their very presences seemed to taint the Ambient Mana in the entire area, like infectious parasites feeding on the planet’s life-force. “This place’s cursed…”

“The Crones are abominations that should have never existed. We’ll end their threat once and for all.” I replied, eyes darting all around as I sensed the forest animals surrounding us. They were all eyes and ears for the Crones, that’s how they seemed to know everything inside their territories, whatever magic or taint they emitted, it dominated the minds of lower life-forms, and from the looks of Downwarren, it also affected humans to a lower degree.

“They know we are here…” I growled, flaring my own Circuits to wash away the taint as the critters fled at the unvoiced threat. I hated to say it, but the fact that the Crones were simply watching us like zoo-animals, expecting Ciri and I to deliver ourselves to them like trapped cattle angered me. It angered more than I was willing to admit. “I know you’re listening, you bunch of abominations! Know that your Death has arrived, and it will not be painless!”

Seemingly having heard my taunt, the forest animals howled to express the Crones’ rage. I grinned triumphantly.

“Is it wise to anger them?” Ciri questioned worryingly, tightening her grip on the gleaming Black Key. “It is, the Crones are not used to people challenging their authority, they’ve been the top dogs in this area for centuries, the angrier I make them, the more likely they are to make mistakes.”

I whispered in her ear.

In fact, with their personalities, they would probably drone on and on, talking about how they would brutalize us and the way in which they planned on killing us, even if they had us in the palms of their hands. If by some miracles, we somehow lost in the initial confrontation, this should hopefully give us time to strategize and counterattack. “Come, you have a grudge against these things too, no? Let’s not make them wait any longer.”

Thus, we made our way up Bald Mountain.

There were several creatures under the Crones’ employ, instructed to slow us or more likely, tire us out.

From harpies, drowners, hags to fiends.

I counted at least four of the horned fuckers amongst those we slaughtered.

No idea how the Crones managed to enslave them. By nature, fiends were solitary creatures, they did not socialize unless it’s mating season. Much like tigers on Earth, they were extremely territorial, four sharing the same mountain was as likely as chickens were to fly. Still, thanks to being tempered by the hordes of monsters sent after us previously, our stamina was actually God-like. My VIT had grown a nice ninety-nine. One last point and I’d officially reach the limit of a human.

I was tempted to increase it to 100, just to see what would happen, but I had been able to keep a lid on the urge so far.

I wanted to reach it naturally and save points.

Although, now that I was facing the Crones, might be a good time to allocate a point to it.

I did exactly that, and a Notification flashed to life.

[Limits Reached: VIT]

[Trait Gained: Battle Continuation – Rank: F]

This Trait allows for the continuation of combat after sustaining fatal wounds. It will also reduce mortality rate from injury. This Skill represents the ability to survive and/or the mentality of one who doesn't know when to give up, consisting of one's strength of vitality in predicaments. This Trait is most often found in Vampires, but a selective few can also achieve it through sheer wills and training.

At its current Rank, you can survive HP going down to zero once.

Hmmm… A Nasuverse Skills? Wait! ‘How will this interact with [Second Wind]?’

Another prompt went up at my thought.

[Skills Interaction:]

Slot One:

Slot Two:

Slot Three:

…

Ah, so I could freely choose between the two which would be used first? That’s nice.

I quickly put [Second Wind] in the first slot, and allocated [Battle Continuation] on the second.

‘Why, I hear you asked?’ Simple really. Second Wind was a nifty Skill to have, but at the same time, should I fail to eliminate an enemy to activate its resurrection, I’d be able to survive regardless.

“Leonis, look!” I snapped out of my thoughts at Ciri’s behest, to see an ugly, red humanoid lumbering toward us. Right, I nearly forgot about this guy, didn’t even remember the name of his race. We had to go through him in order to reach the Crones, didn’t we? I unsheathed my rapier, aiming at the monster. Yet, instead of attacking, it threw its hands up, the universal sigh for surrender. “It’s a Sylvan– An intelligent race of monsters, I don’t think he plans on attacking us…”

Nu-uh, I ain’t falling for that shit.

I distinctively remembered this guy allowing Geralt and Ciri entrance, only to backstab them halfway into the hole it guarded. “No, this guy is a servant of the Crones, he won’t let us through so easily.”

“But–” I interjected. “Trust me, Ciri. He’ll attack us the second our movements are restricted.”

The Sylvan laughed, its crooked voice bellowing as its baleful yellow eyes shot at me. “You’re smart than you look, Little Lion! The Ladies have ordered your capture, and I won’t fail–”

[Petal Burst], [Reinforcement] activated as I propelled myself at it, fingers clamping down on its mouth and wrenching its lower jaw out. “What the did you just call me, you lowly worm?”

My face was impassive, my tone light and cheerful, yet the silent fury imbued in my voice was undeniable, echoing through the dark, damp cave. The resulting shockwave as I slammed its head into the cave sent the torches tumbling to floor. “What did you call me?”

That nickname was Gil’s and Gil’s alone. How dared this disgusting blob of useless flesh utter it?! The Sylvan flailed its meaty arms at my head, but a wild swing from me smashed its joints. Though killing the creature was as easy as breathing for me, I wanted this to hurt. “That nickname is not yours to use, remember that when you go to Hell…”

I tightened my hold on its face, crushing its cheekbones as the humanoid monster groaned in pain. “Leonis!” Ciri shouted at me worriedly, hand reaching for my shoulder. “That’s enough, he has had enough, Leonis. Just put him out of his misery already.”

I did not let go. I didn’t even know why this pissed me off so much, just that the moment it uttered that nickname, it had signed its death sentence. The Sylvan screamed, begging for its life, yet without a lower-jaw, all I could make out was a gargled mess of words.

Perhaps not being able to look anymore, Ciri swung her blade, severing its head from its neck as the wound sizzled and its fat form slumped down. “What was that?!”

I looked at my palm, coated in blood. What was that, indeed. Just the mere thoughts of such an ugly creature using the nickname given to me by Gil made me violently angry. Despite how inconsequential that was, it felt as if the creature had insulted both myself and the Golden Queen. Maybe it was the disconnect between the two? Gil was a beauty of few equals, while the Sylvan was hideous beyond comprehension.

Maybe I missed Gil more than I had imagined?

Or maybe I was just cranky?

Hell, maybe it was a combination of all three?

I wasn’t sure, I just wanted it to die. My heart– [Hell King’s Engine] thrummed loudly in agreement beneath my chest, as though confirming my thoughts. I really did miss her, didn’t I? As odd as it sounded, the Golden Queen’s presence was soothing. Even when I was away on Quests, I knew she was always there, always present.

I didn’t know if she was watching over me on my adventures with Sha Naqba Imuru, but there’s always a sense of belonging, knowing she was there.

“My apology, I’m not sure either.” Ciri narrowed her eyes, but thankfully let it slide. “Whatever, just don’t attack me if I ever call you that, and we’re fine.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” I retrieved the Sylvan’s severed head as we made our way to the Crones. The place they lived was as revolting and filthy as the game portrayed, if not more. The floor was submerged in blood, a cauldron sat on the other side of the… Room(?), filled to the brim with bones and skeletons. “You haven’t been kind to our servants, Traveler.”

“Such soft, tasty-looking flesh, sisters…”

Whispess, Weavess and Brewess emerged from the sudden storm of crows and blood, their bodies littering with watery boils and pus. Brewess waved its arms about, pointing at Ciri and I, yet before it could speak a word, I shot at it. With [Reinforcement], [Petal Burst] and [Sword God Style] still in effect, I bolted forward.

[Phantom Edge], one of Invictus’ many Enchantments flared, creating a Mana-coat over my rapier, lengthening its reach. Whispess and Weavess were quick, one burrowing into the blood, the other transforming into a storm of crows, but Brewess? The witch was too slow, too clumsy. It was the classic tank, devastating attacks and endurance. Sadly, against [Sword God Style] and Invictus, its hardened flesh was little more than a piece of plastic.

I sliced it in half under its sisters’ angry gazes.

Ciri was not to be left behind either, blinking next to Whispess.

Black Key stabbing at its stomach, gorging out its innards.

“Sisters!” Weavess screeched. Still, it was smart, instead of trying to attack us, it fled immediately.

I spun, flinging Invictus at it.

Weavess was able to escape as a mass of crows, but Invictus still managed to spear a few of its crows.

Ciri blinked, this time behind Whispess as she pierced the back of its neck. She ripped the blade out, severing half of the witch’s neck, then swung again, decapitating Whispess. ‘Talion would have been proud.’

“You’ll pay for this!” I glared at the crows cawing, before using [Ansuz] to burn Whispess and Brewess’ corpses, raising an eyebrow challengingly at the witch.

Honestly, I was expecting the Crones to pull some shit out of their asses like Regul and the Le Blanc siblings had, but the actual fight with the them was as disappointing as it had been in the game.

Then, I turned at the Witcheress, who was heaving as if her life depended on it. While my presence had indeed helped Ciri conserve stamina and Mana, fighting hordes of drowners, hags, four fiends and Whispess might have been too much. I swooped her into a princess-carry. “C’mon, we can’t stay here. Your pursuits will track your magical fluctuations soon.”

Ciri nodded, throwing her arms over my neck. “Thank you, Leonis.”

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