Chapter 54: Episode 51

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

Words Count: 6358

A/N: The OST has nothing to do with the Ep, I just thought it was a good song and wanted to recommend it to you guys.

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read about 20 Episodes in advanced, probably more, but who’s counting?

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor

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[Skill Gained: Three Sizes Scouter]

This is an exceedingly powerful Skill…

I closed the Notification, blinking in disbelief. Did I see that correctly? My eyes did not deceive me, right? There was no fucking way in Hell I wasted the effort to track down Weavess, trudged through swampy terrains and climbed an entire mountain, just to get that?! I clutched my face. Feeling a bit faint-headed, I pressed both index fingers on my temples. “Skill.”

I called out again, simply to see if something, anything had changed, but…

[Skill Gained: Three Sizes Scouter(Active) – Lv: MAX]

This is an exceedingly powerful Skill, devised by the friend of a certain Breasts– I meant, Red Dragon Emperor– One of Kuoh’s Legendary Trio to precisely judge the three sizes of any woman he has set sight upon, disregarding their clothes and outfits entirely. Truly, a Skill worthy of a Harem-Seeker such as yourself!

It was just a pipe-dream.

‘It’s still there! Nothing has changed, son of a WHORE!’ This motherfucking Game, it was messing with me, wasn’t it? That must be the case. All that efforts, all the sleepless nights wondering how to find the last Crone, and this, this was my prize?! What the actual fuck? I turned to the broken wall behind and kicked, I kicked so hard what remained of it crumbled in an instance. “Fucking piece of shit!”

“What’s– *Cough*– Wrong, O’Dimm screw you over?” Olgierd raised his head tiredly, yet there was this, this arrogance in his movements, as if to say he had seen through me and my problems. Naturally, being the calm, mature adult that I was, I decided to react by blitzing over with Supernatural speed and slamming his head against the wall. “That’s none of your damned business. Shut your mouth, or I’ll fuse it shut myself.”

The force I put in was enough– No, no. More than enough to smash a Fiend’s head to bits.

Yet, Olgierd only got a few superficial wounds.

Bastard was shaking when I pulled back.

At first I thought it was from pain, humiliation or perhaps both, but he was simply laughing.

I tightened my grasp over his head, eyes narrowing dangerously.

That just made him laugh even harder. “What are you laughing at, you piece of filth?”

Heartbeats, roaring like the engine of a motorcycle, began to echo through the empty chamber. However… “You- You think you’re scarier than Gaunter O’Dimm?! You’re not the first sent after me! Twice, twice I’ve defied the Devil himself, you think your little tricks will scare me, little Sorcerer?! Surely, you jest?”

“And what did that bring you? Here– Captured, in cuffs and awaiting your fate like a cattle.” I snorted. Did he think that was some sort of achievement? There was a reason the saying, ‘The Devil always got his due’, existed. O’Dimm couldn’t be defeated, he couldn’t be killed, at most he could be staved off through a bet similar to the one Geralt made with him, but that’s not a permanent solution. “Where’s the sonuvabitch then?”

“I suppose he has the same thoughts as me. Let you stew and suffer in fears and misery for a bit. I’m sure that will make your Soul more tasty.” I trailed off, deciding to sit on a fallen column mere feet away from Olgierd. “That’s it? You’re no better than that monster!”

The charismatic bandit growled, face twisted in an odd mixture of a grimace and angry frown as he barked at me, screaming obscenities like his life depended on it, which maybe it did? Perhaps he was simply attempting to distract me? I stared, catching sight of Olgierd stealthily fiddling with the cuffs behind his back, his movements were subtle. So subtle that I wouldn’t notice unless I paid attention.

“Oh-No, you fucking don’t!” I bolted towards him, slamming his head over and over against the wall, repeatedly until even his immense pain tolerance couldn’t keep up anymore. For the first time since we met, I saw signs of pain on the man’s expression as he groaned. “Fu– *Cough*– Fuck! You piece of shit! Is it fun selling your kind out to a Demon?!”

“Say what you want, but I’m not risking my Soul for your sake, you’re not worth it.” I eased up my grasp on his skull and spoke. I wasn’t Geralt, I wasn’t going to bet my life for his. I might have known the content of the… Contest O’Dimm would hold, but that was meant for the White Wolf, not me. There’s an overwhelming chance O’Dimm would have it changed, and I wasn’t about to risk that. “Smart of you not to, Traveler.”

The Devil’s voice sounded as Olgierd– The six feet tall, battle-hardened criminal, seemingly shrunk in horror. Then, he doubled over in visible pain, groaning roughly. “I- I feel as though… As though… A hot iron’s pierced my chest.”

O’Dimm, reminiscent of how he appeared in the game, walked down from the Moon. It was as if the Moon wasn’t hundreds of thousands of miles away, but merely a cheap decoration. The way his silhouette slowly, gradually grew in size seemed so natural? Yet, my brain… My mind screamed at me that this, whatever he was doing, wasn’t natural in the slightest. “Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long.”

O’Dimm smiled. It was a seedy and unsavory thing, like what you would expect of every suspicious merchant. “I didn’t expect you to get him so soon. Although, I suppose I should have, knowing your new Abilities, Traveler.”

He gave me a look-over, from head to feet, seemingly puzzled by something. O’Dimm approached, his dark gaze lighting up with a sense of curiosity not unlike that of a child finding a new, interesting toy. His next action– The way he suddenly grabbed me, made me a tad uncomfortable, but I quickly shrugged it off. Though he was the Devil, he had rules. Whether those were self-imposed or forced upon him, O’Dimm always followed those rules, especially when it concerned his pacts.

“My… How did I not notice this?” I replied jokingly, in an effort to make the tense atmosphere alleviate somewhat to some success. “Sorry, but I don’t swing that way.”

O’Dimm played along, chuckling to himself as he released the iron-grip on my wrist. Despite seeming hearty, I could tell the mere idea of being attracted to me– To any mortal for that matter, disgusted the Demon greatly, which I supposed was understandable. It would be like a human falling in love with a germ, utterly impossible and inconceivable. “I can assure you Traveler, neither do I.”

O’Dimm clasped his hands, sight training on Olgierd, who was struggling to get to his feet. “So glad to see everyone’s made it. How do you feel, von Everec? A little… Less troubled, lighter on the heart?”

“O’Dimm…” The charismatic bandit rose, gaze meeting the Devil’s head-on. “You forget. The pact states you can only take it once you’ve fulfilled three of my wishes and–”

“And, we stand together on the Moon.” O’Dimm interrupted, his expression resembling that of a mischievous child having one-upped his school bully. “Well, what do you know?”

A malicious wind blew, and the dust-covered ground beneath was swept clean to show a crescent Moon made by immaculately shaved and fashioned white cobblestones. “What–? No. We- We had a pact. The Moon is there. THERE! Not...”

Like a madman, Olgierd protested, probably realizing how futile his attempt was, yet left with no other option, he could only continue to shout in outrage. O’Dimm smirked, smugness oozing from his form as his skin paled, black veins bulged under his eyes and the formerly brown-black irises turned Hellish, fiery orange. “Here. I gave you what you wished for. Here, on the Moon, our contract you shall fulfill.”

“You… Whoreson! You cheated me!” Olgierd drew Iris, one last attempt to defend his Soul, but O’Dimm was more than a mere monster, he couldn’t be killed, much less by a weapon created by Lesser Demons. “I never cheat, and I’ll have my DuE. It is done–”

Olgierd fell, yet never once failing to back away. “YOUr SouL beLOng TO Me!”

The bandit screamed, and shouted himself hoarse as his Soul, taking on the form of wave and wave of black particles was sucked into O’Dimm, until he was naught but a pile of bones. “At last, it’s over. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Traveler. I must confess, I did not expect you to get it done so quickly, but this is a pleasant surprise. Although, I must admit, I’m disappointed you decided to ignore the Toad Prince, I had a whole adventure lined up, you see…”

Olgierd’s sabre– Iris floated to O’Dimm’s awaiting hand and he offered it to me, but not before engraving fiery Runes upon its tang. “No matter. Consider this a… Gift– Free of charge. It will be more useful to you than it will me. Go on, take it. It won’t bite.”

I gently made to take the sabre, its Attributes flashing to life in front of me, yet it didn’t seem like O’Dimm had noticed anything. ‘Either he already knows about the Game’s existence, he’s extremely good at keeping his composure, or O’Dimm isn’t as all powerful as he’s often portrayed…’

With any luck, it would be the third.

[Weapon Gained: Infernal Iris]

A lightly ornamented steel sabre belonging to Olgierd von Everec– The Noble turned bandit of the Witcher-Verse. It’s named after his late wife and is a powerful, Demonic blade. Now that its Enchantments have been changed and empowered by the Man Of Mirrors, it’s a weapon on pair with your current weapon– Invictus.

[Enchantment:]

Unbreakable [Rank: E]

Hell’s Edge [Rank: D]

Critical Strikes [Rank: C]

[Unbreakable] was familiar. It’s not hard to know what it did unless you were daft, but [Cursed Edge] and [Critical Strikes], those, those were new. I’d check them out later. My face betrayed nothing as I sheathed the sabre carefully and nodded towards Gaunter O’Dimm, grateful for the blade. “Thank you, I’ll make good use of the sabre.”

“See to it that you do, Traveler. And please, while I do not like to rush my clients, retrieve the two other Souls. The quicker you fulfill your end of the deal, the less you have to worry, wouldn’t you agree?” O’Dimm stalked away, hands clasped behind his back. “Wait! Can you just tell me the Souls’ exact locations? It’ll be done much sooner that way.”

The Devil grinned, eyes flashing with hidden maliciousness, before replying with a touch of something guttural in his voice. “It sure will, but where’s the fun in that, Traveler? Beside, you’re working to pay back your debt, not the other way around. What’s the point if I do everything for you?”

Much like our encounter a week back, O’Dimm faded into the darkness of the night. The outline of his frame blurring with each motion that followed, before at last, he was gone. All the evidences of him being here was the evil chuckles still echoing across the abandoned Temple. My cheeks twitched as I pretended to cough and hide a low, “Prick…”

I poked my hands to search for the Tarot Cards to find Olgierd’s gone, leaving only the other two Cards. I grabbed Henryk the Mighty’s. According to O’Dimm, the second Soul was wandering White Orchard with defected Temerian Soldiers. Finding him shouldn’t prove too problematic, a platoon of defected Temerians would be quite noticeable. There’s a chance they had discarded their old uniforms and armors, but I doubted it. Weapons and armors were expensive, especially in these trying times.

If I were them, I’d keep the equipment for later use. Perhaps, I could even get them modified and remodeled by the local blacksmiths. It would be the smarter thing to do, not that I expected uneducated Soldiers to be that smart, but it’s worth a shot to check up on White Orchard’s smiths later. With that in mind, I allowed the Elder Blood to encase my form and in an instance, I was back to Novigrad. I looked around, seeing naught but an empty room.

I hadn’t scouted/unlocked White Orchard as a region yet, I had hoped Triss would be able to portal me there. Sadly, both Triss and Ciri didn’t seem to be home. “Damn…”

Suddenly, my Communication Gem flashed, displaying the image of an Owl– A white one to be precise. I realized instantly who it was, the former Leader of the now defunct Lodge of Sorceresses was calling me, but what for? “Hello, this is Leonis speaking.”

“Come to the Ruin, I believe I’ve found what you need.” Seriously, too little too late Philippa. Still, I supposed I could always do with more methods to put the Worm down for good. Hell, perhaps she might even have a Spell or Ritual to safely extract the Crest Worms from Sakura. “Alright, I’ll be there in–”

I blinked, appearing behind Philippa and continued. “– A sec.”

The Sorceress jumped.

The startled yelp she let out was almost cute, if not for the fact she was a power-hungry feminazi who thought she wad better than literally everyone else. Philippa scowled, her braids flapping about angrily as she began sharply. “You! Do you have no manner?! There is a door, use it. Better yet, stop teleporting into my laboratory.”

“No promises.” I shrugged, uncaring of the threatening posture Philippa had adopted. What was she going to do? Her Spells were essentially useless. I didn’t have [Magic Resistance] yet, but in order for Curses to work, their magic must overwhelm mine, which was impossible with the Elder Blood and 100 in INT. While offensive Spells might have a chance, they were too slow. In top condition, I could move, dodge and react at hypersonic speed.

There’s literally nothing she could threaten me with that I didn’t already have a counter to. “I forget how much of an insufferable brat you are…”

“Take one to know one, lady.” I bit back immediately, rolling my eyes and offering my palms to her demandingly. “Now, about what I came here for?”

Philippa grumbled, yanking up several books on the solid stone-table. “What you asked for… Though I suddenly do not feel like giving them to you anymore.”

I raised my eyebrows, titling my head. Then, without a second thought, I turned to leave. “Wait!” The arrogant Sorceress hastily called me back. “That’s it? You’re not even going to argue for them?!”

“What? Did you expect me to get on my knees and beg? You misunderstand, Philippa Eilhart. The situation has changed, I no longer require your aid, if I get it, then I get it. If I don’t, I’ll find another method.” I paused, leaning against her the cave wall. It would be nice to have a Plan B for Zouken, but it wasn’t strictly necessary. Beside, worst case scenario, I could simply employ Yennefer. She was sure to be grateful once she knew I had dealt with her estranged adopted daughter’s foes.

“This whole thing between us, it’s a transaction. An exchange. I do not owe you anything. In fact, it’s the opposite. If you feel like you can handle the guilt of allowing a young girl to suffer out of sheer pettiness on your conscience, that’s on you.”

“You said that as if you won’t be ridden with guilt yourself.” I chortled, narrowing my eyes at the blind Sorceress. How ironic, for a Sorceress known to be able to transform into one of the few animals with famously-amazing eyesight to be blinded… Say what you wanted about Radovid, but the bastard had a sense of humor. “I tried, it’s you who refuse her help because you dislike me.”

Philippa was silent for a brief second, before she threw the books at me, which I caught. “Leave and don’t show your face in my laboratory again.”

I hummed, looking over the aged grimoires in my hands. “I don’t suppose you can open a portal to White Orchard for me?”

“Don’t push your luck, Leonis Magnum.”

“Fine. Be that way. It’s not as if I like your presence anymore than you do mine.” Triss was curvier and more beautiful anyway. I held on tightly to the grimoires and disappeared in a flash of cyan lights. When I got back, Triss was already home. I set the grimoires down silently and approached her. “Triss.”

“Leonis, back from your business I see.” I nodded. “And I’ll have to head out again, is there any chance you can open a portal to White Orchard for me?”

“As you can see–” Triss threw a root into her cauldron, sending plumes of smokes flying up. “– I’m a bit busy at the moment. Any reason why you can’t, as you put it, [Blink] there?”

She glanced at me. There was something so seductive about the way she did it. It struck me I hadn’t had any sort of sexual contact since getting my new Title. None beyond the Novigrad’s Succubus, that was. Should I just visit the brothel? It’s easy Stats…

Although, I sincerely doubted Triss was doing it on purpose. She likely saw me as the little brother who often jokingly hit on her and no more. I was fine with that, being the ‘little brother’ was better than being nothing at all.

Courting women, especially older, experienced women required time, time I had absolutely no qualm with spending. Not to mention, it’s not outside my expectations that Triss would treat me like this. I was clearly younger, much younger than her surrogate little sister. While Gil didn’t care about age-gap, because trivial things like that simply wouldn’t cross the Golden Queen’s mind, Triss was different…

At the moment, I needed to build a solid foundation to build our future romance on.

“Can’t, I haven’t been there yet. A [Blink] like that is very random. It can put me near settlement–” I leaped on the empty spot of her table, crouching over her cauldron. “– Or in the middle of nowhere, which isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Very well, give me a few minutes and I’ll open it for you. Or, you can look for Ciri at Dandelion’s new place. She can teleport you there.” Right, did I mention Novigrad was back in business? It was nowhere near the bustling Free City it once was, and with the retreat of Redanian Soldiers, the destruction wrought upon the Witch Hunters and Temple Guards by the Wild Hunt’s Riders, the place was riddled with criminals, thieves and bandits. But, it’s still very livable.

As long as you didn’t mind scrapping someone’s innards off your front door every morning… “I guess I’ll find the Princess then.”

I waited, and waited. “What’s wrong?”

“What? Not even a goodbye kiss? Milady, how can I live without it?” I asked cheekily, hugging my chest in faux pain as Triss threw more and more ingredients into the swirling liquid. The fiery Sorceress giggled. I was sullen as she chased me down from the table, yet just as I was about to walk to the exit, Triss stopped me. “I’m sure you’ll survive somehow, but…”

She kissed her fingers, then tried to press it on my cheek. Naturally, I used my Supernatural AGI to maneuver my head so it landed on my lips instead. ‘Huh? Her lipstick smells of marigolds… How fitting.’

Of course, as an older and experienced woman, Triss didn’t even blush, merely tapping me on the head. “Happy? Go on then, Ciri should be drinking with Zoltan and Dandelion.”

I smirked, jumping up to steal a kiss just next to her lips. I could’ve taken her lips, but there’s a fine line between being cheeky and playful, and being a forceful creep. Kissing her on the lips would have definitely encroached on the latter’s territory, which I did not want. Patient was the key here. Triss wasn’t going anywhere, and it’s not like she had another love interest aside from Geralt, who hopefully should be head-over-heels with Yennefer. “See ya’!”

I raced to the door, disappearing behind, but not before catching sight of Triss sneakily touching the spot I had planted my lips on, a light blush dusting her cheeks. ‘Damn, she’s fucking adorable.’

Worst part? I didn’t think she knew how cute she looked. Femme fatales were a dime a dozen, but Sorceress with the same qualities and traits as Triss was rare. In fact, I was fairly certain it’s because compared to other Sorceresses in the Lodge, Triss was the youngest by decades, if not centuries. She wasn’t nearly as jaded, nor was she as haughty as the rest.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I swiftly made my way to Dandelion’s tavern. Despite the recent attack by the Wild Hunt, ‘Rosemary and thyme’ was bustling with people. With the Temple Guards and Witch Hunters either gone and disbanded, most of the customers, with the exception of Dandelion, his girl– Priscilla and Ciri, were non-humans such as Dwarves and Elves.

Zoltan, Geralt’s mercenary friend was heartily toasting with a few other Dwarves.

Priscilla and Dandelion were playing and singing an old ballad on the stage.

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The ashen-haired Witcheress was with her friends from the travelling Circus. “Leonis, over here!”

She beckoned me over, and seeing no reason to deny her invitation, I slowly approached the group with my hooded-cloak up. “Hello there, Princess. Having fun, I hope?”

“You bet.” Ciri smiled, offering me her ale. I wanted to refuse, I did. I absolutely loathed alcohols of any kind, but watching the expectant expression on the Witcheress’ face, I could only accept, downing the ale in one smooth motion. My throat burnt as a grimace crept up my face. Though I tried to fake a confident grin, I had a feeling no one was fooled. “That’s a… Interesting taste.”

“Perhaps you’re too young for it after all.” The Witcheress giggled, stealing the cup back from my hands as she pointed at her companions. “Leonis, these are my new friends. These here are Aegar and Valdo, they own the Circus outside the City–”

The two Elves sent me a friendly wave. “– And this is Bea. She’s a friend of Dandelion, helped me contact him actually.”

“And who’s this… Your little brother?” Aegar spoke, to which I replied with a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m Leonis, Leonis Magnum, nice to meet you.”

I shook their hands, turning towards the freckled barmaid. She was… Well, not beautiful like every Sorceress ever, but she was pretty in a sort of ‘friendly-neighbor-next-door’. It was quite refreshing to meet her after being literally bombarded by inhumanely beautiful people. “Charmed, Milady.”

I took her hand and lightly kissed the air above her knuckle. For those who didn’t know, that’s the proper decorum. In fact, kissing a lady’s hand directly might even seem rude to some. “Little Charmer, aren’t you?”

“I can assure you Milady, there’s nothing little about me.” I wasn’t joking either, I was in my first growth-spurt, likely spurred on by the Witcher Trials and the Elder Blood. Now, I looked like a late middle-schooler than the elementary student I was originally. Obviously, my height wasn’t the only thing having lengthened. Sadly, I hadn’t had a chance to test my equipment out though, which I sensed was about to change by the saucy smile on Bea’s lips. “Perhaps I can check it out later tonight?”

“Bea, you strumpet–” Ciri said teasingly. “– Control yourself, this is the Sorcerer I mentioned earlier.”

Aegar blinked owlishly. “The same who handed the Hunters their asses?”

“The very same.” I offered an exaggerated bow, winking at Bea. “My prowess aside, I do have magical hands I’ll gladly show you, if you wish that is.”

Bea giggled. “My, perhaps I’ll take you on that offer later. Tonight at the Golden Sturgeon maybe?”

“Say no more, Milady. I’ll definitely be there.” Bae and I traded smirks as the Witcheress interrupted. “Oh, there are people here, go get a room you two.”

“Later perhaps.” I replied, continuing after a brief moment. “Right now, I need a lift to White Orchard. Triss is busy with her brewing, can you get me there, Princess?”

“Another… Mission of yours?” I nodded lightly. The Star-Gate was prepared and hidden in a water cave under Novigrad. All I had to do was retrieve O’Dimm’s Souls and then I could go home. Rin and Shiro must be worrying sick by now, and Gil’s probably expecting me soon. “Indeed, I have to get those done as quickly as possible and go. There are people waiting for me at home.”

“Will- Will you come back?” It might be a trick of the lights, but I could swear I saw a flash of sadness on Ciri’s expression for a brief second. “Of course, I’ll visit regularly in fact. But they need to know I’m safe first.”

“And who are these ‘they’? Are they women by any chance?” Bea questioned curiously. Again, I bobbed my head. “Oh, ladies’ man, aren’t you?”

“No, nothing like that. I only have a relationship with one of them at the moment, the other two are just friends.” A cold smile marred my features. I did little to hide my murderous intention as Kirei entered my mind. “Beside, I have a debt to pay back home.”

The group fell silent as Ciri grabbed my shoulder. “Let’s go quickly then.”

In an instance, we went from being in Dandelion’s tavern to… I looked at the sign, Woesong Bridge. “Thank you, you should probably go back now. I can handle it from here.”

“Already chasing me away?”

I smiled awkwardly. “I wouldn’t dare, Princess. Just, this is kind of dangerous.”

“Do you think I can’t handle a little dangers?” She asked again, which Is supposed was fair. Ciri had braved many dangers throughout entire life, I doubted this Henryk, whoever he was, could deter or harm her. “… Do you want to join me on this hunt?”

I offered, and the Witcheress finally smiled. “How can I refuse?”

“Alright, just give me a sec.” I pulled out White Orchard map. Henryk and the remnants of Temerian forces shouldn’t loiter near the Nilfgaardian Garrison so I could ignore that area. As for the rest… “What are the chances of Henryk the Mighty being near–“

Thus, I began to ask away, until finally… “What are the chances that Henryk the Mighty is staying near the Ransacked Village East of Woesong Bridge?”

83.6%

“You found him?” I did not reply, sweeping Ciri into my embrace. “C’mon, it will be quicker if I rush us there.”

With [Petal Burst], [Reinforcement] and [Blink] used in tandem with each other, I crossed dozens of miles in a blink. Ciri’s hold on me tightened as we basically flew high up, her chest pressing against my own, which sent a light blush on my cheeks. It was surprisingly soft despite the bandages the Witcheress used to hold her breasts… ‘Damn, I really need to get laid soon, all these changes in hormones are driving me crazy.’

I forcefully suppressed the evil thoughts.

Ciri wasn’t interested in men anyway, at least she wasn’t in the books… Wasn’t she? Or was she bisexual?

—— [Fate: DML] ——

Witcher’s Sight was a very interesting ability to have.

I wasn’t sure how it worked for other Witchers, but for me, it’s a nictitating membrane right under my eyelids.

It wasn’t like anything shown in the games. It did not act similar to a highlighting system, more like an… Enhancement to my eyesight?

Ciri and I had been following the fading footsteps for a while now. I was certain it was the defected Temerian forces. Why? Because of how the footprints looked.

For normal villagers and peasants, they wore leather boots, some poorer parts even used shacks tied to their ankles, but these footprints’ edges were extremely sharp, similar to those of armored boots. Not to mention, the footprints were rather deep. A full set of armor ranged from 30 to 55 pounds, depending on their materials. Temerian armors consisted of a wide breastplate, metal leggings and arms-coverings, plus a helmet. They should weight around 40 pounds, give or take a few pounds.

These footprints were consistent with the weights I predicted.

So either these were a group of extremely fat people, which was unlikely seeing how poor and war-torn the rest of White Orchard was, or they must belong to the defected Temerian forces. Just to be certain, I even used [Future Calculation] to verify. The result was an overwhelming 93%. Of course, there’s a 7% chance it was wrong due to how [Future Calculation] operated as a Skill, but sure enough, I was correct in my assumption.

Ciri and I snuck up on the group of bandits. They were quite numerous, about four to five dozens camping outside the cave they had taken temporary residence in. “There must be more in the cave.”

I told Ciri as she drew her blades angrily. I couldn’t blame her, the group was... Playing with a few peasant women. Judging from how loudly they were yelling, screaming and crying, I doubted it was in any way consensual. “I’ll take those near the cave, you handle those eating. Use [Temporal Phantoms] and try to dispatch of them quietly, understood? We can’t have them taking hostages.”

Ciri nodded and wasting no time, I blinked behind the group, dual-wielding Infernal Iris and Invictus to kill them in an instance. The group assigned to the Witcheress immediately stood and made to shout for reinforcements, but they were too late. Phantoms of the Witcheress appeared next to them, stabbing them all in one quick thrust each and even going to far as to bisect those having been seen raping a few peasant girls.

The peasants trembled fearfully as dozens of men died.

Thankfully, they had the foresight to keep silent.

I gestured for them to come closer, and they obeyed. “Is there anyone of your Village inside?”

An older girl whispered, choking on sobs. “There- There are. Two of youngest girls were taken by Henryk inside earlier. That bastard, he must be violating them, please–!”

I hushed. “Alright. Ciri, can you keep them safe? I’ll go deal with the bandits.”

The Witcheress nodded, face set in a cold grimace. I supposed seeing the girls being violated had upset her more than I thought. Understandable, considering Ciri herself was seen as little more than a broodmare by both Eredin and her sperm-donor– Emhyr. It must have felt quite uncomfortable, knowing what her fate would have been had those two successfully captured her.

I cautiously snuck into the cave, and the deeper I went, the louder the cries of shame, fear and humiliation rang. I was supposed to be angry, I was supposed to be enraged. I was a Modern person, someone taught and raised to know that rape was bad, yet for some reasons, I couldn’t muster any sympathy for these girls. All I could feel was a morose sense of emptiness and a realization that I must get more powerful. The weak had no rights, it’s especially true in Medieval times and in the Moonlit World…

I frowned, ignoring the displeasing thoughts. Was I always this, this unsympathetic to others’ plights and sufferings? No, no. There was a time when the mere thought of seeing injustices done in my presence would have sent me in a rage. A time when the cries of the innocents upset me. But, that was a long, long time ago, wasn’t it? Come to think of it, I had never felt bad for Sakura. I was disgusted with Zouken and Shinji, sure.

But… Sakura had never even entered my mind, not unless it was a scheme to make Rin indebt to me. Was I truly always like this? Was I truly such a selfish bastard?

Or was this simply the consequences of being a Magus? Did I consider my empathy a weakness accidentally and kill it in the Illusion?

‘Enough! Now’s not the time.’ I shook the distracting thoughts away. Sneaking carefully to the stacks of furs where Henryk was. Indeed, there were two girls. Were being the keyword. One– The blonde was gone, her milky eyes staring unblinkingly at me, her crotch bleeding profusely to make a puddle. The brunette was desperately gagging on the filthy, fat bastard’s member. ‘Nothing.’

There was no guilt, no rage.

Just Nothing.

I snarled, searching deep within myself for that righteous anger, that rage that I should feel. I did work up something at last– Anger, but it wasn’t for the girls. I could tell. My anger wasn’t righteous, it was both ravenous and directionless, like the fury of a wild beast, ready to lash out at everything. My heartbeats began to echo as Henryk harshly sent the girl tumbling to the cold floor. He and I paused as we sent in what seemed to be an Illusion, but it wasn’t.

In that vision, I was cutting him up, drowning him, skinning him alive.

All methods of killing Henryk I could think of, we were shown in vivid details.

[Skill Gained: Future Tragedy(Active) – Lv: MAX]

‘I’ll check that out later.’

We recovered soon after, with Henryk screaming obscenities as his bloodshot eyes were directed at me. I grabbed the naked brunette, blinking outside and covering her body with my cloak. Henryk was hot on our heels, and as I pushed her away, bringing up my blades to block Henryk’s club, my arms stung under his mighty blow. “What–?!”

I couldn’t even finish as I was thrown to the side, sending filth and dust flying as I skid through the muddy ground. “How’s this possible?!”

That was the first time since coming to the Witcher-Verse that I had felt my strength fail against someone. It shouldn’t be possible, I had [Reinforcement] up and running! Let alone a human, even the Unseen Elder might not be stronger than me. Hell, why was this bastard playing bandit when he was that powerful? He could become a Noble in any country with that sort of strength! Henryk laughed, tensing his muscles as I steadied myself. “Another one? Sent by O’Dimm to die, I suppose? You’re gonna die like the rest!”

I narrowed my eyes, glaring at the bastard. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”

Suddenly, Ciri came flying out of the vegetation. “No!”

I couldn’t help but scream. The Witcheress was powerful, but she couldn’t win against him in a head-on collision, he was too physically powerful!

Or… Not?

Like me, the Witcheress was sent flying too, but his blow didn’t seem to have much force and speed. Not nearly as the blow he threw at me prior anyway. “… I see, so that’s why O’Dimm stressed ‘none’. Singular.”

It would also explain why Henryk did not sign up for the Nilfgaardian Armies. He was no better than any other man once surrounded by a chaotic battlefield. His strength must adjust to his current opponent, always a tad higher than them. To verify my thoughts, I asked [Future Calculation] and sure enough, the result was resounding 100%.

‘I must test the extends of his ability…’ I bolted towards the hulking bandit, slashing at his leg. I drew blood, but my strike was stopped just barely at his muscles. “It affects his durability too?”

I slid between his legs, cutting at his exposed back, but this time with [Dimensional Slash] lining my blades. The wounds spurted blood everywhere, but even then it did not cause too much damages. [Dimensional Slash] was a powerful ability, capable of rending Space-Time, but a magical ability could interfere with its inner-workings. Thus, I lined both it and the Elder Blood with my blades and swipe at his chest just as Henryk turned to face me, his club raised.

The wounds were deeper this time…

I blinked away, dodging his clumsy strike.

I wiped the blood from my blades, stalking towards Henryk as the bandit roared in rage. “You little fucker! I’m gonna make you watch while your bitch choke on my co–!”

I interrupted. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

This time, the anger wad real, not artificial or forced like it was before. I wanted to test myself with him, but I supposed there were five more Souls to do so. The Elder Blood boiled under my skin as a cyan ring of [Yrden] appeared under his feet. Henryk was stuck in time, slowing down to a snail pace as the ring extended to cover the entire area he was in. I walked forth, the Elder-charged [Yrden] not affecting me in the slightest, and began hacking away.

‘Let’s test out Iris’ [Critical Strike].’

Wound after wound,

Slash after slash,

Even cuts as small as paper cuts enlarged to a sizeable wounds,

Henryk went from perfectly healthy to a bleeding blob of flesh.

I did not even paused as I struck hundreds of blows on his body, and only when the [Yrden] wore out, did I back away. “So that’s how it works… Increasing the severity of wounds based on chances, huh?”

Henryk the Mighty was already on his knees from blood loss.

The crimson droplets hanging on the air staining the ground as the giant fell. “You- You!”

I sheathed my blade, “[Longsword of Silence]!”

And shot forth, Infernal Iris and Invictus drawn, cleaving the bastard’s head clean off.

I let out a sigh, turning to Ciri who was struggling to get to her feet. “Princess, you alright?!”

The Witcheress clutched her ribs as I pulled up her shirt. She slammed into the tree, it’s bruising quick. “We must get you to Triss.”

She shook, pointing at the sobbing peasant girl. “We- We– *Hiss*– Must escort them back.”

I glared, hugging Ciri and growled. “I’ll come back for them later, but right now you need help.” Ignoring her protests, I blinked us back to Novigrad. “Triss, get some healing potions, Ciri needs your help!”

The peasants could wait, the Witcheress was more important.

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