The Divine Hunter Chapter 401

Chapter 401: Tough Customers

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

Night was slowly sinking into the horizon, giving way to dawn. Roy returned to his bed and concentrated on his character sheet once more. Skill point goes to Meditation again.

Meditation  Level 7 → Level 8

(Every time you perform a complete meditation cycle, you will gain a charge of Activate. Activate heals you for (40 → 50)% of your HP and Mana.)

Constitution: 22.5 → 23

HP: 305 → 310

Spirit: 20.5 → 21

Mana: 285 → 290

Stat point allocation confirmed.

Will: 20 → 21′

Roy closed his eyes and felt the changes in his body. A sigh escaped his lips, and he opened his eyes. A strip of white light protruded from the horizon, breaking through the grey skies. Cold winds came in from the seas beyond, waking those whom it kissed.

The young witcher turned around, but Igsena and Coen were still fast asleep. Amused, he shook his head and tucked Gryphon away into his hood, and then the young witcher tiptoed out of the room.

Beyond the snow-covered courtyard sat the cliffs that overlooked the seas underneath, and on the cliff, Keldar stood. His back was turned to Roy, his attention fixated upon the raging seas underneath. If Roy didn't know better, he would have thought Keldar was an ancient statue that had overseen the ocean for eons.

There was history sleeping within him. Long, complex history intertwined like spiderweb, and yet this supposedly human being didn't feel alive at all.

“Did you find anything, Keldar?” Roy stood beside the grandmaster, sparing him a glance. “Do you know what caused this?”

There was melancholy in Keldar's eyes, but also reminiscence and… reluctance. Reluctance to part with something he held dear. “I have you to thank, lad. Thanks to you, I've found something I've overlooked for far too long. Alas, you must forgive me for keeping this a secret. Your question must remain unanswered, for revelation would mean baring the school's secrets under the sun,” Keldar said. “And you must leave Kaer Seren as soon as possible. Before night descends.”

“Are you joking?” Roy cocked his eyebrow. His arms were crossed, and his eyes were filled with interrogation. “Is this how you treat your guests? You expect me to leave without getting an answer?”

“That is the way of the world. Fate throws hurdles in your path. Hurdles you never see coming. And fate will never change for anyone,” Keldar answered coolly. “Should the chance present itself, we shall duly compensate for the damages our school has caused.”

“What did I do wrong?” Roy refused to give up, a hint of anger flaring in his eyes. “Was it because of my idea of the brotherhood?”

“Do you see me as someone with such a narrow mind? No, this has absolutely nothing to do with your proposal. Yes, the brotherhood is ostentatious and a transgression against the laws of nature. Yes, it treads dangerously close to the territory of political meddling, but it is not totally worthless. I will not interfere with your operations, but nor will I join you. That said, you have performed perfectly.” Keldar's eyes never moved from the seas, and a sigh escaped his lips. “Too perfectly, in fact. That is precisely why you're in mortal danger. Last night's assault was a mere taste of what is to come. It will not stop until it claims your life.”

“Who's behind the attack? What is behind that attack?” Roy kept asking, refusing to back off. “And why did it come to me? What does it wish to gain from me?” If the coming attackers are on par with Kosti, I'll be in danger.

“The details are top-secret information, on the same level as the secret arts. Forgive me, but I cannot divulge any information. Once Coen and Igsena wake up, bid your goodbyes and leave,” Keldar answered calmly. “And send my regards to the old chap.”

A frown furrowed Roy's brows. Goddammit, this geezer is obstinate. Something's off with him. And something was wrong with the history Coen told me. This guy is hiding something? Roy held his anger down. For now. “Can I come back to Kaer Seren again?”

“That I cannot answer for sure. Perhaps the threat will be gone in the nearest future.” Keldar didn't give a straight answer.

“I'd like to invite Coen to Novigrad. To see how the brotherhood works.”

“Coen is his own man. He can make his own decisions. If he so wishes to, I will not stop him.”

“Pardon me, but before I leave, may I take a look at how Dual Signs and Roar work?” Roy licked his lips.

“If this were in the past, I would have let you read it, but not now. The knowledge it contains is… dangerous.”

It? The knowledge it contains is dangerous? So it's a book. Roy found himself a clue. “So that's it? I may never see that knowledge again?”

“It depends on what Destiny wishes to put in our path.”

Okay, that answers nothing. What does that entity have to do with the book? And what on earth is that thing? Why is Keldar so wary of it? In just one night, he becomes a pessimistic hull of himself. Now he's trying to chase me away, citing that the future is uncertain.

Roy tried his best to get more answers, but Keldar refused to provide any. The look on his face remained melancholic, and his tone stiff.

When dawn finally broke, and golden sunshine shone upon the snow, Keldar returned to his house.

Roy caressed the stone stele, his eyes set on the seas and the horizon. He rode his train of thoughts, but that was quickly cut short by sounds of hurried footsteps closing in on the fortress.

Keldar was standing under the overhang, his arms crossed before his chest, the look on his face turning from melancholic to solemn.

Coen and Igsena left their bedroom. The lady was rubbing her hands, her ears and head covered with a fur hat. Her cheeks and nose were red, and an oversized cloak hung over her. Roy thought she amusingly resembled a kobold.

The four of them stared at the slope leading up to the fortress, and out came a silhouette. Then another. And another. Eventually, twenty men in grey cotton jackets appeared. They were armed with hoes, pitchforks, and pickaxes, huffing and puffing like angry creatures trying to tear their prey apart.

Roy snarled, for he noticed two disgustingly familiar faces amongst the crowd: the man with green hair, and the one with the red face.

The elderly man in the lead had a face as wrinkly as an elephant's hide, his skin roughened up by the elements. His beard was unkempt, his body was gaunt, and his back was hunched, not unlike a typical country man. But his eyes were violet, and the man was staring at the front doors of the fortress. When he locked eyes with his daughter, he gnashed his teeth and muttered curses under his breath.

All the color drained from Igsena's face. She quickly let Coen's hand go, but the witcher held her tighter.

“Unhand me daughter, ye mutant! Lest we clobber ye!” The old man spewed curses at Coen, though he was about as threatening as an alpaca.

The witchers remained silent.

“What are you guys doing, Rhade? I never asked you to come!” Igsena quickly explained, “I came here of my own free will. Nobody forced me!”

“Ye old man's here, you idjit girl! E'eryone's here. Those mutants ain't gonna hurt ye! Come back!”

“Yes, Igsena.” The green-haired guy who fucked his friend the whole night stepped in. There was smugness in his eyes, but there was also a hint of darkness. “The mutants deceived you with trickery and lies. We're here to save you. To free you from their clutches. Come back.”

The men roared and shouted, but none took one step further.

“You must be the villagers of Charcoal Bourg. Perhaps this is a misunderstanding.” Keldar gave the angry villagers a look as calm as still lakewater. Matter-of-factly, he said, “My student embodies the virtues of a knight. He would never abduct anyone's daughter.”

“That right there is proof, ye lying twat!” Rhade pointed his pickaxe at Keldar. “That's me daughter, there! She's a sweet gal. And there ain't no way she'd scurry off to this here mountain without so much as a word! Why, this place is more rundown than a doghouse!”

“A woman and three men staying in a fortress all by themselves?”

“What is this, a whorehouse?”

The men swung their farming and mining tools, shouting at the witchers.

Henri said adamantly, “If you ask me, that guy with different-colored eyes and pockmarks on his face must've been the kidnapper.”

“That's right.” The man with a red face looked at his comrades and announced. “We've seen it! We've seen how that mutant bewitched Igsena! They were at the river. And Igsena was spasming like she had fits! That mutant had flames all over his body! We saw how he cast a spell on her! He convinced her to steal from her family and give all her coins to him!”

“Henri! Cud! You curs! You sons of bitches!” Igsena cursed loudly. “You criminals almost defiled me! How dare you insult me?” She roared at her father, “Don't listen to them! Those bastards tried to defile me, but fortunately, a witcher was passing by, and he saved me! I'd be nothing but a cold, dead corpse if not for him!”

Rhade cocked his eyebrow and looked at the men suspiciously.

The man with a red face turned around and spread his arms. He spoke loudly, his voice as grating as rusty chains turning around. “Look here, people! See how the witchers have bewitched the girl? Do you see how they have manipulated her into thinking we're the villains here? Henri and I spent a day and a night searching for Old Rhade's daughter. And just when we were about to save her, she accuses us as criminals! This is preposterous!”

“Snap out of it, Igsena. Stop your lies.” Henri stared at the ground and shook his head like he was actually sad. “If we had actually tried to defile you, we would have run away instead of coming straight to you. Do you think everyone here is a fool?”

Someone shouted, “Rhade, your girl's brainwashed!”

Rhade's face was like thunder. With his pickaxe in tow, he approached his daughter. The young men who followed him also took one step into Kaer Seren's land.

Roy cracked his neck and wrists, his joints popping like firecrackers. The young witcher advanced toward the incoming villagers, and it silenced them. They were reminded of the witchers' rumors. Of how inhuman their strength was.

Roy possessed strength more incredible than any human, especially after he took the second Trial. He was in his armor, and a pair of sword hilts protruded from his back. His head was as bald as Letho's, and his terrifying heterochromatic eyes scared the villagers.

“Roy, please, stand back. Let me try.” Igsena put her hands before her belly, her fingers intertwined. She turned her gaze to Coen and Keldar, an unspoken plea filling her eyes. “Calm down. I'll explain everything. Don't attack them.”

The witchers exchanged a look and kept their silence.

“I need no explanation. Now get back here, you idjit girl!” Rhade beckoned her.

“No, Rhade!” Igsena's eyes welled with tears, her fingers fidgeting around like little twigs. With a voice as rough as a stony path, she shouted, “You'd rather believe two criminals over your own daughter?”

“Well, I know they won't kidnap my girl!” Rhade looked at the witchers warily. “Now come with me! The chickens need feeding, and the greens need pickling!”

“No! No longer am I the girl you can lord around!” Igsena wiped her tears and tugged at Coen's hand. She raised her head and gave him one last smile. Then she turned around. “I, Igsena, daughter of Rhade, hereby announce my departure from the Charcoal Bourg! No longer do I belong to you. Any of you! I wish to be with Coen forever! If you think of me as your family, then bless us. Bless us and leave this place!”

Rhade pointed a gnarly finger at his daughter, his chest heaving violently. He was hissing like a serpent, but not a word escaped his lips.

“Don't waste yer time, Rhade. She's lost it. We're going in!” a few of the burly minors shouted.

“Yeah! Show those mutants no mercy!”

“They try anything funny, and it's a one way trip to hell!”

“I'd like to see you try.” Coen took a step forward. Veins popped on his face, and he shouted loudly, “It is Igsena's wish to stay, and her wish takes precedence over yours. No one can make her do what she doesn't want to. Try, and I'll give you a taste of your own medicine.”

He flicked his wrist, and a yellow spark appeared in his hand, flitting around his fingers like magic.

The villagers gulped and took a few steps back. All their bravado was lost, and Rhade looked like a defeated chicken.

“Witchcraft!” Henri and Cud shouted.

“That's what's controlling Igsena! Charge! Bring judgment down on that sorcerer!”

Nobody moved. Not even Rhade.

“Let's bring this to the baron! He'll subject them to the stake!” another fearful voice shouted.

“Ah, I see you're a sensible one. To enlist the baron's help and not opting for violence is wise,” Keldar siad. He was still standing under the overhang, his voice oddly calming. “But do not forget where we are. This is Poviss, a free kingdom made up of immigrants. We do not have pesky rules and tradition, unlike most kingdoms.”

All the villagers heard him, and they put their weapons down.

“Coen is right. Her decision trumps your will. Igsena is already of age. She has the right to decide what she wants to do. Not even her family, her father, or even her mother has the right to change her decision.”

Keldar shook his head, a smirk curling his lips. “You may bring this to the baron, but not even he has the right to impose his will on an adult woman. Not even if he brings it to the court of Lan Exeter.”

Rhade was huffing and puffing, sweat pouring from his face. There was agony and frustration in his eyes. He might have the guts to cross the witchers, but he would never cross the nobility.

His daughter took the side of the witchers. If they were to enlist the baron's help, they might only gain mockery and punishment in return.

“Do not be afraid, people!” The man with a red-face turned redder. He looked like an apple now. “This is nothing but witchcraft. They have Igsena under their control. This is not what she really—”

Something tore through the air, cutting the shouts of Henri and Cud short. They were sent flying backward as if a sledgehammer had just hit them. Eventually, they slammed into the stone walls and fell with a thud. And then everyone noticed the holes in their foreheads.

Crimson blood, crushed bones, and brain matter drenched the earth, their faces destroyed. It was a horrible death. They died without their heads.

“They're dead! The mutants killed them!”

Someone shouted, and the villagers scrambled back the way they came.

Roy tucked Gabriel away. Coen was still holding Igsena's hand, though he was frozen. Igsena covered her mouth with one hand, while Keldar sighed. He darted ahead like a lightning bolt, casting multiple Signs at the escaping people at the same time. His forearm spun, and his fingers weaved. Signs blossomed from the buds of flesh, and a roar once again graced the yard. A great, stormy, powerful roar.

Powerful winds blew across the people, and they froze. They stiffened up like puppets, their eyes rolled back in their heads. Keldar stood in the center of the crowd, and he commanded, “Return home and sleep. You shall forget all that has happened over the last three days, including today.”

The villagers trembled. They hung their heads low and left the mountain, their faces as blank as lifeless puppets.

The sun shone upon Keldar, and he slowly turned around. The shock and confusion in Coen and Igsena's eyes did not escape him. And so did Roy's realization. They were all looking at Keldar's face and the back of his hands. Or, to be precise, the rotting part of it.

The shadows beneath him did not escape their notice, either. Or, to be exact, the lack of shadows beneath him failed to escape their notice.

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Chapter end