The Divine Hunter Chapter 236

Chapter 236: Goodbye

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

A man and a woman sat across from each other under the magical chandelier in the royal dining hall. Adda leaned her head into the shadows, her fingers interlocking with one another. “You're leaving Vizima?”

The young witcher popped a piece of soft mutton into his mouth, and it melted right away. He gave her an apologetic look. “Yes. After the equipment is finished. I still have about a week.”

“What about the Omen God's priestess?”

He said apologetically, “I'd love to keep looking into this, but the mentors object to this. I have to respect that, since I'm a part of the school as well. I'm very sorry, but I think Abigail is no longer in Vizima.”

Adda kept quiet.

“How's the sewers' renovation going?”

“It'll be done in about a month.” The mention of the Church of Virtue lightened Adda up a little, and she sounded excited. “Twenty of the most devout believers in Vizima will move into the prayer room. We'll go on with the proselytization of the villages as well. The goddess will shower Vizima with her glory eventually.”

“And we couldn't have done that without your help.” She pursed her lips and looked at Roy expectantly. She wanted to give it one last shot. “Are you sure you don't want to stay and help? I'll see if I can turn your reputation around and get you the respect you deserve.” She emphasized, “I'm not the only one who needs you. The goddess requires your assistance as well.”

Vivienne had been in a slumber for a while. She seemed to be drained after turning those souls into nymphs and giving Roy a drop of her blood. Or maybe she's hiding from Foltest and his new consultants. “I'm a witcher first,” Roy said gently but firmly. “You know we're nomads. We never stay in one place for long.”

They fell into a long silence, and there was only the sound of knives cutting into meat hanging in the air.

“Very well, then. If that's your decision, then I won't force you into anything.” Adda seemed a little dejected, but she forced a smile anyway. “Still, where would you go next?”

“Novigrad, the city of freedom,” Roy said honestly. “It's home to someone important to me. And I have to meet someone there. It's about the school's future, so I must go.”

“Is that the same nation that's on Redania and Temeria's borders?” Adda warned him, “Be careful. The Eternal Fire controls that place, and they dislike non-humans.”

“I don't think they hate witchers that much, do they?” At least not at this point. “And we're not there to fight them.”

Adda was silent again for a while. She looked at him with hesitation, and eventually she said, “You'll have to go through La Valette's place on your way to Novigrad, won't you?”

“That's what we're planning, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I have a favor to ask.” Adda quickly changed her tune. “You know what? Forget it. It's nothing big. It's just some family problem.”

Roy did not ask her anything. If he remembered correctly, La Valette's wife, Louisa, gave birth to a boy and a girl for Foltest. Did Adda already find out about her father's affair? He was not planning on getting involved with the royalty's private affairs, so he kept quiet.

Adda sighed and let it go. “Will you return to Vizima?”

“Of course. We're allies.” Roy smiled. “And there are elven ruins waiting for me. I have to explore that place.” If everything went as planned, he would only come back to Vizima after the first Northern War.

“I see. Have a safe trip, knight. I hope you'll have rebuilt your school when we meet again.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. And good luck to your endeavors in Vizima.”

They smiled at each other and raised a toast from where they sat.

“And there's one more thing you need to know. Foltest has rejected your proposal,” Adda said. “But he'll reimburse you, monetarily speaking. Two thousand orens.”

“I expected that.” It was regrettable, but that was reality. Not everything would go as Roy wanted.

“Foltest is getting too old. He cares too much and lost his courage,” Adda said. “I would have cleared your name if I were in his place. It's just a few notices on the board.”

Roy shook his head. Things won't be that easy. Still, he saw the flame of ambition in her eyes, and he did not want to douse it. “I'll be looking forward to it, princess.” Perhaps she will be the first female heir to the throne in the future.

Roy ran into a few more familiar faces in the corridor, right before he left. A few soldiers were coming in with Zerrin and Agorn, who still held crutches, as well as Mars, who was on a stretcher, but he looked a lot better. They were talking with Triss.

“Hello, Master Roy! Didn't expect to see you here!” The knights welcomed him happily, surrounding the witcher. Triss followed behind. “We're all still around thanks to you. We've been wanting to thank you for your help.”

“It's alright, knights. You helped me a lot too. No need for thanks,” Roy said. The knights might be a lot older than he was, but they'd all been under his care during the last operation. “How are you doing? Does it still hurt?”

Zerrin popped his biceps. “I'm fine, but Miss Triss says I need to get at least three months' rest.”

“You hurt your bones. You're lucky you only got three months.” Triss was smiling. She seemed to be in a good mood. The sorceress was wearing a red gown with lace sewed to the hem. It fitted her perfectly. “They'll be fine, but Mars won't be getting up until next year.

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“I'm just glad I'm still alive.” Mars sat up with the help of his comrades. “Hello, Master Roy…”

“Don't move. Just sit down. I know what you want to say. Just take care of yourself. It's not every time someone can save you.”

“Um… Master Roy…” Agorn started stammering for some reason. “I have an idea, but I would like to get your permission to use it.”

“Is that so? Tell me.” Roy smirked. “I won't charge too much.”

Agorn choked on himself and scratched his head. “I just need you to authorize something. I might be a knight, but I am also the scriptwriter for Vizima's opera theater. I spend my free time coming up with fresh new shows. Your fight in the sewers has inspired me. I came up with a new show that talks about your battle with the ghouls, drowners, and fleders, all while I was recuperating.”

“Sorry?” Roy's eyes widened, and he shook his head in disbelief. Triss was covering her mouth to hide her laughter. She had never heard of anyone making a witcher into the protagonist of an opera. Nobody would watch that.

“You heard me right!” Agorn gritted his teeth. “I've written a script based on your story. I'll send it to the theater if you'll let me, and I'll prepare for it until the time for the first performance comes.”

“So what's the show called?”

“Legend of the Sewer Butcher—Ender of Filth!”

Triss could not hold it in any longer. She chuckled.

“Sewer Butcher? Alright, who came up with that?” Roy's face fell, and his eyes gleamed dangerously. “Where'd you learn how to name stuff? The sewers? That's even worse than The Rooster Slayer!”

“Why'd they call you the Rooster Slayer, Master Roy?” Agorn wanted to know.

“They did not call me the Rooster Slayer. It's just an example,” Roy explained, but to little effect. As if caught in a trance, the scriptwriter muttered, “The Rooster Slayer… Sewer Butcher…” He was trying to glean more 'heroic stories' from that title.

“Hey, don't get any ideas! I'm warning you now. I'm not associating myself with the Rooster Slayer. Fine. I suppose I can accept the Sewer Butcher.”

“So you agree?” Agorn looked delighted.

“Is any part of that show slanderous to witchers?” Roy asked cautiously.

“Of course not!” Agorn guaranteed, his face red. “You're our savior! We would never slander someone who saved our lives! Why, that would be an insult to the order's pride! I would have been robbing myself of my reason to live if I did that.”

“Calm down. I'm not suspecting you or anything.” Roy rubbed his chin. “So you're just praising me all the way to the end?”

“Not exactly…” Agorn emphasized, “I'm a stickler for realism, so I talk more about how dangerous and cruel the monsters are, and how you bravely bested them.”

“I see.” Roy gave in. Since Foltest refused his request, he thought he would employ the scriptwriter's help. Maybe it'll work? Maybe our reputation will change? It's worth a shot. “You know where I live. Tell your friends to give me the script as soon as possible. I want to skim through it.”

“Of course. I'll do it tomorrow. And here's twenty orens. Authorization fee, so to speak. Do please come and see the show when it goes live.”

“Sorry, but I would not be in Vizima by then. And you can take these coins back.”

“You're leaving Vizima?” Triss' eyes widened. She looked surprised and a little sad. She never did come in contact with the young witcher ever since she embarrassed herself during their first meeting. Still, that did not change how she thought of him. Just like sorcerers, witchers had tragic childhoods. However, Roy felt different. He was not like the other men she had come across, civilian or otherwise.

She also knew that he was close to Coral, a veteran sorceress, and he even saved a girl from her tragic life. The more she saw him, the more curious she got. She wanted to get along and know him more, but that chance slipped by. They were merely acquaintances for now. She had no right to pry into his personal life.

“In a week, sorceress.” He beamed at her. “But I have a feeling we'll meet again.”

“I hope so. Oh, Roy, and a favor, please. Send Geralt and Yennefer my regards if you run into them.” She winked at him cheekily.

“Here, boy. It's your favorite.” Auckes was hanging a carrot with a stick, playing with a brown horse in the stable.

The horse was not really tall, but it was lean, its coat gleamed, its eyes shone, and most of all, a terrifying fleder head was hanging on its saddlebag.

The horse did not even care about the carrot. It bared its teeth and snorted, swaying its tail while spraying its drool all over Auckes' face.

“You ingrate! I saved you from Amell!”

“You're not yelling at my horse. Nobody talks like that to him but me!” Roy came and took the carrot from the hooded guy and held it close to the horse.

Unlike how it treated the hooded guy, the horse licked Roy's palm and munched on the carrot. While the horse snacked on the carrot, another furry little thing stuck its head out of the saddlebag. Gryphon meowed and climbed up to Wilt's neck. It tugged on the horse's mane and stared at its master.

Roy extended his finger, and Gryphon leaped onto the back of his hand before climbing up and nestling itself in his hood. “Sorry, Gryphon. No dried fish for you, but I'll get it later.”

Auckes stared at them and snorted. “So irresponsible. I'll take them off your hands if you'd like.”

Roy huddled closer to the horse and whispered something to it. Wilt turned around and shook its hips at Auckes.

“You're just a horse! I will not stand for this insult!” Auckes was shivering with annoyance, but he calmed down in the end. “I'm not going to fight with a beast. And have you finished your business, kid?”

“Almost.” Roy caressed his horse and looked at the blacksmith shop. “Now it's just Berengar and Letho left.”

Chapter end