Chapter 56: Episode 53

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

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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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The [Harem Seeker] Title was quite interesting.

I found out last night

It did not require me to go ‘all the way’ with a girl, if you caught my drift. In fact, simply touching someone’s genitalia or having my member touched was enough to count as a sexual encounter, which I supposed was… Logical in a sense.

After all, it did not specify sexual encounters as actual sex. Although, I must admit, the unexpected Notification popping up suddenly when I was licking Triss did give me a fright. I thought we were being attacked and an emergency Quest had been issued or something, but nope. That’s just me being paranoid and my Stats each growing by another 0.1 point. In my defense, there hadn’t been any news of Aen Elle, the planet in which the Wild Hunt originated.

Sure, I gave them quite the scare, but surely with the fate of their Homeworld on the line, they would at the very least make an attempt to capture me and/or Ciri, right? That’s what I’d expect of their Roman-and-Viking culture. It’s a very logical conclusion to draw up! Surely, surely there was no way those arrogant Elves would take me invading their Homeworld, smoking their King and murking like… A third of their most elite force lying down, right? Right?!

… Apparently I gave them too much credits.

With the exception of Eredin, they were all clearly pathetic cowards.

They spent and raised their children and their children’s children to be bandits and slavers, but the moment they encountered an obstacle they couldn’t tackle, they hid like chickens and refused to make even the smallest peep.

It was disappointing.

Of course, I didn’t want be bothered daily by rogue Red Riders, but still! Where was their dignity, where was that honor and pride so deeply ingrained into their beings?

I could understand if the Nobles couldn’t be bothered, they were likely too busy fighting amongst themselves and attempting to seize the throne to care about me, but I had expected a few of those who had ridden on Hunts/Gone on Raids with Eredin to show up for revenge at the minimum… Obviously, I was expecting too much.

I cracked open six eggs, skillfully picking the bits of shells out with a pair of projected chopsticks. Usually, I’d throw in strips of bacons, but since both Ciri and Triss were recovering from a hang-over, it’s best that I focused and hurried it up before the two ladies died of starvation. Already, I could hear their stomachs grumbling loudly like ravenous beasts in the next room, it would not be wise to delay any longer.

Once the meal was done, I projected three plates, putting two of the omelets on each and bringing them to the blushing ladies. Triss was staring pointedly at her lap, while the ashen-haired Witcheress was innocently humming a folk-tune, no doubt in an effort to disperse the lingering awkwardness. “Here you go, omelets for two beautiful, hung-over ladies, coming right up.”

The Witcheress laughed, gloved hand coming to her chin in a teasing, if somewhat shy gesture as the Sorceress huffed and rolled her eyes on the side. “Hitting on me… Is Triss not enough for you?”

“Force of habit.” I snorted, getting on a seat facing both the Sorceress and Ciri with my plate. I was never a fan of omelets, more like a scrambled eggs guy, but this would have to suffice for now. I projected a fork for myself and was about to dig in when Triss finally spoke, head leaning on her closed fist. “And here I had taken you for a gentleman.”

I smirked, twisting the omelet like it was a bowl of spaghetti as I replied. “Please, gentlemen are a joke. I’m better, way better. I’m honest with myself and truth’s, I find both of you attractive, I just didn’t want to jeopardize my friendship with Ciri by shooting my shots, especially since she had a lot to worry about in the past.”

Scratching my chin, I clarified. “And by ‘a lot’, I meant the now defunct Wild Hunt.”

“That’s a sad way to look at it… While rare, gentlemen are–” I interjected. “They are hypocrites.”

What? It’s true. The Knights of the Round, if you had bothered reading their adventures, were manwhores who had a new Noble Lady waiting for them every book. Even Artoria had deeds that could only described as diabolical during her reign. Granted, she had rejected her Humanity thanks to Merlin’s teachings and machinations, so I supposed she couldn’t be blamed for those. Then again, that might be my bias speaking…

For all her faults, my old self did consider the King of Knights the epitome of beauty, grace and nobility, and at the end of the day, while I loathed to admit it, despite having never met or conversed with the woman even once, I still could not quite shrug off his infatuation– No, obsession with her character.

In any case, I didn’t want to, this would be the last memento of his existence. Currently, with the exception of my knowledge, memories of my past self was gradually growing fainter and fainter, the faces of his parents and family were a blurred mess, the silhouettes of his friends and acquaintances so faded I could not even tell their gender.

I wasn’t worried. In fact, the quicker all traces of that cowardly, pathetic waste of oxygen in me disappeared, the better.

As long as my foreknowledge of games and anime stayed, I couldn’t care less.

I continued. “Let alone men, even monsters and hags like and crave beautiful things and people. Gentlemen are still men, which of them can put their lives on the line and swear they don’t like you two fair ladies?”

The Witcheress gingerly touched the deep scar running down her cheek and repeated. “Fair?”

Winking, I chuckled and leaned over the table, poking her scar lightly. “Yes, fair. I’d go as far to say the scar makes you more beautiful even, more… Unique.”

I turned to the Sorceress, offering her slight smile. “Same goes for the burnt-mark on your chest, Triss. It’s not nearly as bad as you seem to think.”

I watched as her eyes widen and her hand retreat to her chest. The burnt-scar was located exactly in between her breasts, it looked gruesome for sure, but in the heat of passion, it hadn’t meant anything to either of us. All I had known last night was there’s a gorgeous, heartbroken and needy Sorceress attempting to ‘drain’ my flesh and Soul, everything else didn’t matter in the slightest.

“When did- How did you–?” Triss gaped, looking at me questioningly. She appeared horrified by the fact that I had seen what was underneath the… Glamour, in spite of my reassurance. “Last night, your Illusion dissipated while I was playing with your breasts. It’s really not that bad and honestly, I think it’s pretty hot.”

* Wink

* Wink

* Wink

The two ladies choked, covering their eyes as they laughed. Ciri chewed slowly on her omelets, “That pun was horrible, even for you, Leonis.”

“It still made you laugh, didn’t it?” I replied, a toothy grin plastered on my lips. At this point, my facial structures might be permanently altered to fit smiles and smirks, and surprisingly enough, I was entirely fine with that. You know what they said, ‘You’re never fully dressed without a smile’.

Our morning returned to its usual routine, I wasn’t always around, too busy locating and hunting down the Souls to have breakfast often, but I did make the effort to spend time with them as much as I possibly could, and while they did not voice their appreciation, I believed both Triss and Ciri notice the work I was trying to put in, which made everything worth it in my opinions.

We were almost done with our meals– Well, Ciri and Triss were, I finished it ages ago, when we heard knocks at the door. I didn’t need X-Ray vision to know it was Geralt. The sounds of plated boots, the clanks of steel and silver blades rubbing together, the groans of tired, aged joints and bones, plus the overwhelming scent of blood. It was definitely the White Wolf of Rivia, it had to be.

For the first time since coming here, I felt truly nervous.

I was meeting one of my childhood Heroes! My memories might be fading, but I could very clearly remember hoping school day would end so I could go home, get on my computer and spend the rest of the night completing Quests I had piled up the day before. Geralt was the GOAT, someone on pair with the likes of Chief, Solid Snake,…etc. “Did you invite anyone today, Ciri?”

Triss asked worriedly, she had spent enough time hiding from Witch Hunters and Temple Guards to recognize the sounds of armored boots. I simply waved away her concerns. “It’s the White Wolf, I’m sure of it. Even here, the scent of monsters’ blood on him is nauseating to my nostrils.”

I shot to my feet, feeling lightly lightheaded from the blood in my legs rushing to my head. “I’ll go get it.”

I didn’t run, I blinked to the door, throwing it wide open, and there he was, in all of his armored glory. Shit, I had almost forgotten how cool the Kaer Morhen set was. A shame it was so pathetic compared to the other sets, Stats-wise. But, seeing as this was the real World and not codes on a screen, it looked like the set was powerful enough for Geralt to continue using it. I offered him a handshake, eyes almost twinkling with excitement. “Geralt of Rivia, I presume?”

He grunted. “You presume correctly. Is Ciri inside?”

I nodded, standing to the side so the Witcher can enter. “I’m Leonis Magnum, a huge fan of your works.”

He seemed hesitant facing me, as though he was trying to work out my angles. Made sense, every time Geralt had encountered someone saying they were fans of his works, they had all wanted something from him. It could range from a monster-hunting contract, investigating abnormal attacks to wanting him to serve their purposes, whatever it might be. “You do not have to worry, it’s merely a compliment of your… Efficiency and work-ethics.”

My thoughts focused on a certain bard as I added. “Thanks to a certain bard, tales of the famous White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken have spread far and wide. Few do not know your name, Geralt.”

The Witcher deadpanned. “I’m flattered. Now, my daughter?”

“I’m here, Geralt.” Ciri walked in. Triss wasn’t with her, I noted. She was probably still reeling from his rejection. “I’m going to Dandelion’s Inn, you can join me if you want?”

“Why didn’t you start with that?” The Witcheress’ voice was jovial and contained an upbeat tone to it that I had never heard before, even after weeks spent on the roads with her. Not going to lie, I was sort of jealous. I had to pay attention to every little thing I said to the ladies, but Geralt? He was a genuine natural. It's like the man was born to be a Casanova. “Give me sec, I’ll get ready.”

It wasn’t unexpected, knowing his defining characteristics in the games, most, if not all Sorceresses found him attractive to a degree, even the pain in the ass that was Philippa Eilhart. Still, that did not make me any less envious of his… Inborn talent. Hell, if he announced he was becoming one of those dating Guru, I’d pay good coins to join his class, might help me up my CHA quite a bit. “You going to join us?”

The White Wolf’s baleful, predatory yellow eyes trained in on me, definitely not out of maliciousness, mind you. His next words were curt, short and to the point, as expected of the White Wolf. “I heard you defeated the Crones and the Wild Hunt, Dandelion just so happens to need inspirations for his new songs. Might make for an interesting tale.”

“Hmmm… I’ll be busy later and I’m not exactly a fan of alcohols, but sure. I suppose I can tag along for a bit.” I patted the dust off my clothes. It’s a new outfit I projected this morning, so I was all set. Ciri might need a change though, seeing as what she had on was the same she had worn and likely got vomit on last night. With that said, the Witcheress gingerly made her way upstairs, leaving Geralt and I to sink into awkward silence. “So… You’re her father?”

“Yes. Thank you for helping Ciri.” I sent him a thumb-up as he added. “She told me you’re the same as her, a Child of the Elder Blood?”

“That I am.” Geralt scrutinized me, gaze searching from head to toes, before turning to look vacantly at the stairs. “If it’s not too much trouble, please stay longer. Whether you realize it or not, Ciri has found a sort of familial connection with you, she’ll be upset if you leave suddenly.”

He didn’t voice his request, neither did he try to plead with me, even his tone was even, as if he was merely speaking about the weather, but I could sense it, the underlying concerns and worries he had for her. Indeed, though Geralt did not directly ask me to extend my stay, with his personality, this wasn’t too different from actually begging. “There’s no need for you to ask, I’m willing to stay for another week once I’m done with my business here. Beside, I can visit whenever I feel like it using the Elder Blood…”

Geralt smiled. It was a slight thing, more a hint of a smile tugging on the corners of his lips than an actual one. Damn, no wonder the ladies dropped their panties everywhere he went, the gruff, emotionless, rogue-looking expression he had on fit him, and it further highlighted the rare moments where he actually did show his emotions. “You have my thank.”

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“Uhmmm… I guess I’ll inform Triss as to where we’re going, do you have a message you want me to pass her?” The White Wolf was silent, if seemingly somewhat saddened at the mention of our mutual Sorceress friend. “You tell her I’m sorry, and I believe she’ll find a better man in the future.”

“Right, got it.” I quickly left, using my Supernatural senses to locate Triss. It seemed she had hidden in her laboratory, and from the humming of Mana upstairs, even had her defensive Wards up and running at full capacity. ‘Oh-dear, I’m so not going to enjoy this.’

——◇  [Fate: DML] ◇——

According to O’Dimm, the Gabriel the Umbral Witch was hiding on a small island near the Skellige peninsula. His exact words had been, ‘The Invincible Witch resided on a small island, West of the Land of Traditions and Warriors, and close to where Devils and Demons lurk.’

For those unaware, in the Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, there was a secret. If you tried to go on ships to the edges of the map, a warning would pop up telling you to turn back, and that here was where Demons and Devils dance. From those clues, I used [Future Calculation] to clarify, and it was as I feared. She was far West of Skellige. There was just a teeny, tiny problem, there were hundreds, if not thousands of smaller islands West of Skellige.

How was I supposed to find her amidst all of those? “What a fucking conundrum. Guess I should start immediately then…”

I spent the entire night using [Future Calculation], wasting all of my charges and nearly getting another profusely aneurysm to find four islands with the highest chances of harboring the Umbral Witch Gabriel. I had asked about her, but Triss said there had never been such a character throughout her eighties years of life. Yes, yes, Triss was truly that old.

Perhaps Philippa and Yennefer would have additional information, but the latter was currently serving as Emhyr’s advisor, while the first was a major bitch.

I doubted she would answer truthfully if I were to ask.

Oh-well, it’s not like she would pose a threat to me anyway, and from the Title given to her by O’Dimm, I reckoned her magic likely revolved around Curses and the likes. She would be a mildly annoying foe for me at worst, and utterly powerless at best, there’s no reason to overly worry. After all, everything was only healthy in small doses, including paranoia. Leaving out Gaunter O’Dimm, no one was my opponent on this planet.

Even Geralt and his experience were nothing in the face of overwhelming might.

Don’t get me wrong, I respected him, I really did. Sadly, my respect changed nothing and me being stronger and more powerful was a fact, not an unfounded boast.

Back to Gabriel the Umbral Witch, I guessed I could blink to Skellige, then continue using [Petal Burst] and [Blink] to traverse the sea. It would beat traveling via boats and ships, not that there were any willing to make that journey anyway. Unlike the game, which was severely limited by the constraints of technology, the real Witcher-Verse was incredibly large, it would takes months to travel with the usual methods.

andSince I had my own Fast Travel, might as well use it.

I didn’t bother writing a letter or leaving a message to explain where I was to the ladies, seeing as I’d blink back and spend the nights here, then with a bright flash of cyan, I swiftly teleported to the bridge leading to Kaer Trolde, only to be met with a hails of weapons and blades. “Guys, guys! Relax, it’s just me.”

“Fookin’ Hel, Leonis! Yee’ scared the shit outta’ us!” Eivor, one of the few Skelligen Guard I had made friend with on my trip to Skellige to hunt down the idiot who traded his Soul for wealth spoke. On the side, Kassandra– A Shield-Maiden with rolling muscles and olive skin tone replied. “Who’s this ‘us’ you’re referring to? You’re the only one scared witless, you foolish oaf!”

“Kassandra, Eivor. How have you two been? Still refusing to admit your feelings to each other, I see.” I sent them a friendly wave and taunted as the two blushed and frantically tried to deny. It was genuinely amusing to see them worked up over the matter, doubly so since they both originated from a culture where courting one another could be basically summed up to the sentence, ‘Do you wish to lay with me’.

“Alright, alright. I’m not gonna tease you two anymore.” I raised my arms in mock surrender as they surrounded me. After a couple minutes of pleasantries, Eivor asked. “Will you stay, my friend? We can hit the tavern this time.”

My face twitched fearfully at the word ‘tavern’ and I quickly retreated. Spending the morning with Geralt, Ciri and Zoltan was more than enough for me, I was still tipsy and the mere sound of alcohols made my breakfast and lunch roll uncomfortably in my stomach. “Yeah, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m just passing through, I need to sail West of Skellige.”

“West, why? There’s naught but Demons and Devils there.” Kassandra asked worriedly. Not going to lie, I felt touched. In fact, if Kassandra and Eivor weren’t an unofficial thing, I’d have loved to court her, she was a gorgeous brunette with tanned skin and thick… Flowing hair. Ah, bet you thought I was about to mention her breasts and ass, didn’t you? Well, her ass and thighs were indeed things of every man’s dreams.

Some men might find her muscles too much, but in order to become a true man of culture, being attracted to athletic girls was a must! Come to think of it, beside Triss, whose body was no slouch herself, all the girls I had aimed for since my transmigration was fit, weren’t they?

Gil wasn’t overly muscular, yet her definition was just perfect. I hadn’t seen under Ciri’s clothes, but judging from her… Choice of profession, there must be abs for days beneath that shirt. The Novigrad’s Succubus I had hooked up, while nothing in comparison with Kassandra, was also quite fit. “Do I have a type?”

I whispered, deep in thoughts.

Yup, I definitely had a type. “Did you say something?”

I looked up at the two, shrugging off their concerns. “I’ll be fine, I’m on a contract to hunt a supposedly quote-unquote, Invincible Witch. My Patron’s quite powerful himself, no Demons will dare to interfere.”

“I see… I won’t try to stop you, my friend. But, when malicious forces are at hands, it’s best to be careful.” Eivor yanked out an amulet he kept close to his heart. “This is a gift from my aging mother. I’ll lend it to you on this trip, take it.”

I gaped, mouth closing and opening in disbelief. “I- I don’t think I should–“

“Take it! I’m not giving it to you, I’m lending it. You’ll have to return, understood?” Eivor was a real one, wasn’t he? “Got it, thank you brother.”

“Argh! Don’t give me that, it’s what friends are for!” I bumped his fist, throwing Kassandra a nod as the tanned, Amazonian woman smiled and waved me goodbye. With that settled, I blinked to the horizon, using [Petal Burst] to lighten my weight and allowed the winds to carry me forth. I heard Kassandra’s scream echo after. “Come back soon, Sorcerer! Eivor and I will wait for tales of your adventures!”

Eivor and Kassandra made for good friends. I had met them while tailing a mercenary beholden to the wealthy dumbass that sold his Soul to O’Dimm. The circumstance of our meeting was pretty terrible, we were at each other’s throat actually, but that’s a tale for another time…

After an hour of gliding, I was able to locate the first Island. It’s a small, barren thing, with Sirens’, Drowners’ skulls piled on its beach and ship-wrecks littering the coast. I landed into a somersault. Oh, trust me, I wanted to do the Superhero-landing too, but that’s not realistic with how high I was. I’d have likely broken both my knees and snapped my joints out of places had I tried. “Gabriel? Witchy-witchy, are you there?!”

I focused on my senses to search for traces of Mana, and found something. There were signs of a defunct Ward near the beach, and cursed objects similar to the ones I had found in the Crones’ former hideout. The corrupted Mana was faded and faint, if the Crones’ had been an enraged beast yowling and roaring to display its supposed ‘dominance’, what I felt here was more like the soft, gentle mewls of a kitten. “She was here.”

Of that, I had little doubts.

Evidences of her existence were there, and there’s even a shabby, wooden shack straight out of a fairytale.

The natural habitat of evil witches.

Two of the Islands were South from here, with the last being about six to seven miles North-East. I decided to check on the latter first, just so I wouldn’t have to double back hundreds of miles away. If the first Island I glided to was a barren, grey thing, then the second was naught but rocks, a sea of yellow and overgrown weeds. No, not the Devil’s lettuce. You wished, just wild, side-road weeds.

There was no trace of the Umbral Witch anywhere, at least not from what I could see. “Gods damn you O’Dimm! Why couldn’t you tell me where the bitch is? This shit’s just tedious.”

I hated beaches, it’s hot, the sun blinded my eyes and the damned sands got absolutely everywhere! Why couldn’t Gabriel just stay in the forests like the rest of her woods-dwelling kinds? I grumbled, shaking my trouser legs to get rid of the sands chaffing against my skin. I swept my hair back, only to have piles dropping on my shoulders and blinked to the sky, gliding and blinking to my next destination.

The third Island I landed on was not much different from the first two, and after again finding no Witch to murder and let out some steams, I made my way to the last Island. I swore, if the bitch also wasn’t there, I was going to lose my shits.

I barely got to my feet when Demons came bursting from the vegetation. Their bodies were littered with eyes and furs, their faces twisted in a snarl and their snouts, both goat and dog-like sniffed the air as though smelling something– Or more precisely, someone particularly tasty. Me. “I’m guessing I’m at the right place. Do any of you mind informing your… Mistress I’m seeking audience?”

They snarled in response as I taunted. “So that’s a ‘No’?”

The first wave came at me swift like the winds, and they were dispatched just as quickly… Or not?

Severed heads and limbs regrew and burst out of fleshy bubbles to reveal the Demons unscathed, unharmed and all set to go for a round two. “Regenerative Healing Factor?”

I grinned, [Hell King’s Engine] thumping in anticipation as my Mana twisted and shifted into a darker color, which seemingly confused the Demons, with some even tilting their heads questioningly. Honestly, if they were any fluffier, the gesture might have seemed cute, but since they were multi-eyed Demons, it just looked… Disturbing. “[Ansuz]!”

Torrents of lightning bombarded the group of creatures like the wrath of a vengeful God, the few that managed to dodge were able to keep their lives, the slowly ones, not so much. By the time I was done, nothing of them was left beside ashes. That’s when a three-eyed Angel, humanoid in appearance and wielding doubled-bladed spear shot at me from the sky, the tip of his weapon aiming straight at my heart.

I lazily glanced up, grabbing him telekinetically and throwing him into the midst of his brethren.

To his credit, the Angel-looking Demon was able to maneuver and halt his momentum by anchoring himself with the silver spear, his four fangs baring at me threateningly. He was different from the rest, I could tell. For once, the Angel was intelligent, not in the same predatory sense that his Lesser possessed, but true sentience. Second, he was capable of communications beyond growls and howls.

And lastly, he was ordering the other Demons to stand down, while simultaneously gesturing for me to follow him, presumably to meet his Mistress– The Umbral Witch whom I had come all this way to meet. “Huh? I thought I’d have to fight through hordes of enemies…”

What? It was genuinely surprising that she would want to meet me. Every single one of the previous Souls had desperately fought for their lives, and it was only after I dealt with their small armies, did they attempt to face me on their own. But the Umbral Witch, I hadn’t even killed most of hers, hundreds of Demons still stalked the tree-tops, gazing at me ravenously.

I sensed their hungry gazes following us even as we went deeper into the Island, until we approached a small, seemingly abandoned cabin. The Angel knocked lightly, and moments later, a silky-smooth, melodic voice responds. It was undoubtedly the most enchanting sound I had heard, inviting and ethereal. “Come on in.”

I silently stepped through the doorsteps to find the interior was far, far different than my expectation. It was a comely room with a fireplace, books and decorations that had the classic, 18^th Century aesthetic rather than the Medieval-appearance I had anticipated. “Welcome to my humble abode, Traveler. I believe O’Dimm has sent thou here to seekth what he believes he’s due?”

The Umbral Witch was beyond… Alluring.

Everything about her, from head to toes, was absolutely perfect.

Her heart-shaped face evoked both innocence and seductiveness I’d have expected from a Succubus.

Her flowing black hair cascaded down her smooth, exposed back in long, thick strands and her violet eyes… Good Gods, her eyes!

It was a striking violet that seemed to suck in whoever was staring at them too long.

The Witch stood two heads taller than me, about 6’5 if I were to hazard a guess. Wait, when did she stand up? She was just sitting mere seconds ago? Her appearance aside, she was dangerous, I noted. I hadn’t realized before, too immersed in her beauty, but my senses were screaming and screeching at me to leave out of the cabin and never turn back. ‘O’Dimm… You Devilish piece of shit! What the fuck did you pull me into?’

“This humble woman’s Gabriel d’Leoncourt, an old friend to Gaunter O’Dimm, but I doubt he has explained to you all the details and complexities of our… Relationship.” Seriously, O’Dimm! What in the actual fuck did you drag me into?! “Would you care to listen to an old woman’s ramblings, young Traveler?”

Knowing for certain I’d lose should a fight break out, I put on the calmest smile I could muster, clutching the amulet Eivor had lent me and made to bow exaggeratedly. “Please do, Milady.”

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