Ciri's instincts screamed the moment Black Wind vanished.
And when she realized that even Nanomi and the entire troll family had been summoned away through Teleportation, she immediately understood—Lann must have encountered serious trouble on the Eastern Front, forcing him to reassign these forces.
The young girl's heart clenched.
Protecting Lann's safety—that was Ciri's most urgent and important wish. And she also understood that as long as the war continued, Lann would never stop risking himself.
Then the only solution was to ensure they won the war as well.
After restoring the kingdom, she would ascend the throne as queen, make Lann her king, and from then on, nothing could ever put him in danger again.
...
"I wish for Lann to stay safe during the coming battles. I want him to achieve every victory he desires!"
And so Ciri made her wish.
But the djinn's ethereal face suddenly showed signs of difficulty. "That's two wishes... and you only have one left."
Ciri raised her voice. "Then let Lann safely achieve the victories he wants! That counts as a single wish, doesn't it?!"
The surge in her aura left even Jerome and Keldar visibly taken aback.
"...Very well."
The djinn looked rather aggrieved.
This wish seemed particularly difficult. In order to grant it, the previously gentle glow of its body abruptly intensified, flaring like the midday sun—a sign that it was unleashing all its might, drawing upon that mysterious magic that remained incomprehensible to even the greatest experts and scholars.
A djinn could be defeated by high-level sorcerers or veteran witchers. It couldn't transcend life and death. And yet, its powers could bring about miracles—like altering fate itself.
The griffin emblem on Keldar's chest began to throb violently, like a fish flailing on dry land.
Only after a long while did the dazzling light finally dim.
"Your wishes... have all been granted."
The next instant, a glowing emerald light blossomed beside Ciri.
Lann's teleportation ability had its limits. When he marked someone with a rune, he could roughly gauge the distance between them, but it didn't grant automatic awareness of their physical condition or whether they were in danger.
The Follower Panel could reflect basic statuses, such as remaining health or active quest states—but Lann still had to manually check it. It wasn't smart enough to pop up alerts like 'Your follower is in danger' or 'Your follower is in combat'.
Unfortunately, Lann had his hands full on the Eastern Front. The pressure of the battle left him with no time to check the panel—so he failed to notice the sudden disturbance at Brokilon in time.
Coincidentally, the trouble he faced on the frontlines had escalated beyond expectations, forcing him to summon his Followers for reinforcements. It was only then, from succubus Nanomi, that he learned about the upheaval in Brokilon and immediately rushed back.
Using Teleportation, he arrived as fast as the skill allowed and quickly assessed the area, ready to draft a new battle plan—or, if necessary, grab Ciri and retreat.
Then he froze.
"...Teacher? And Master Keldar?"
...
The djinn had revealed its true form. Towering as tall as the barn, it broke through the dense canopy and rose into the sky. It was free now—no longer bound by anyone's wishes. It burst into triumphant laughter as it shot through the clouds and vanished from sight.
Meanwhile, Ciri was animatedly recounting everything that had happened that night to Lann, her words tumbling out one after another. Jerome stood nearby, smiling and nodding along in agreement.
Lann broke out in a cold sweat as he listened.
He had already placed a teleportation mark on Ciri. No matter where she ended up, he could always bring her back with Teleportation, or warp to her himself. Theoretically, she was never supposed to be lost.
But tonight, had it not been for Coën and the others reacting in time, the unexpected assistance of the high-level vampire Regis, and Ciri herself unleashing incredible combat power, he could have lost a rear stronghold—along with the craftsmen and medical teams he had worked so hard to gather.
Even Coën, fellow disciple of the Griffin School, had almost perished in the process.
Lann finally connected the dots between the rapidly shifting events on the battlefield. Looking southward, he seemed to glimpse a black sun banner waving in the distance.
Could it be that the hundreds of thousands of troops on the front lines were merely a distraction—meant to drain his and the soldiers' focus—while Emhyr's real goal was to exploit the opening in the rear and capture Ciri?
Even though Ciri couldn't truly be captured, this time came dangerously close to hitting the mark. Emhyr's gambit had nearly smashed through the rear defenses of Cintra.
He would have to be far more cautious in the future.
"Teacher, I'm really grateful you were here this time," Lann let out a long breath.
Just as Jerome placed his right hand on his student's shoulder, about to offer words of comfort, a sudden whoosh interrupted him. A blaze of brilliant emerald fire erupted between them.
Ciri jumped in surprise at first, then her face lit up with joy. "Iris! Are you alright?"
The soul within the painting materialized.
As a one-of-a-kind existence, the abilities Iris possessed were beyond imagination. In addition to the standard abilities of the Phantom race—such as phasing, possession, and soulfire teleportation—she also had numerous unique skills.
One of these had already been shown: creating a world within a painting, and leaping between artworks. But the one she had just used to reappear safely was called Soul Rebirth—when injured, a painted spirit could retreat into her own artwork and draw power from it to restore herself.
Still, it was clear her form remained somewhat unsteady. Iris hadn't stayed hidden inside her painting long enough to fully recover. She had barely reconstituted the body dispersed by the djinn, then hurried out out of concern for Ciri.
Only after seeing Lann, Jerome, and the others present did she finally feel at ease.
Ciri instantly threw her arms around Iris. The image of the phantom being blasted into scattered sparks in the sky had truly shaken her to the core.
Jerome and Keldar nodded in greeting to Iris. Lann had once taken the blade possessed by Iris to Kaer Seren, so they were familiar with her.
Then, after a brief hesitation, Lann stepped forward slowly, wrapped one arm around Ciri, and pulled Iris into a shared embrace.
"You've all done so much…"
The kind, elder smiles Jerome and Keldar had been wearing suddenly froze, replaced with visible shock. Their combined four centuries of life experience had rarely seen anything like this.
...
Thanks to her racial traits, Iris had managed to recover from her injuries—but not everyone was so fortunate.
Lann first went to check on Coën. The loyal companion had lost an arm and a leg, and had fractures along his spine and ribs. He also likely had a severe concussion.
Under normal circumstances, such injuries would leave a man dead or crippled for life. But with the help of druids and dryads, things were different. Though the druids were still at the front lines, Lann planned to soak his old comrade in the waters of Brokilon for a while—call it a forced vacation.
Technically, Lann could also use a Follower ability point to instantly restore Coën's health. And while he was confident that recruiting Coën wouldn't cost much experience, such a 'second-life' opportunity felt too precious to waste unless absolutely necessary.
Besides, he could save that skill point for someone whose condition was far worse—
Lann looked down at what barely resembled a humanoid form anymore—what was left of Regis—and didn't even know what expression to make.
Jerome and Keldar had already started poking at him with curiosity.
Ciri grabbed Lann's arm anxiously. "Do you think Regis is still alive?"
"He's definitely alive," Lann reassured her. "A high vampire's vitality is insane. Even if he were burned into solid glass, he could still come back. Honestly, what we're seeing now barely counts as serious damage."
That said, while Regis hadn't turned into glass, there were already many parts of his body that were visibly carbonized.
Lann had never personally seen a high vampire up close before, so he had no idea how long this would take to recover—would it be a few years? A dozen? Several decades? Or even a full century?
The power of a high vampire couldn't be allowed to vanish in vain. Lann definitely intended to recruit him as a Follower to help him recover from his injuries.
He held a favorable impression of Regis—a vampire who had been both compassionate in the original timeline and had now contributed to protecting Ciri in the Battle of Brokilon.
However, while Lann currently had the ability point needed, he didn't yet have enough experience. And he wasn't sure how much affection this vampire—who, technically, hadn't even met him yet—actually held for him.
To avoid wasting resources, Lann decided to let his experience bar fill a little more. One more battle ought to do the trick.
He fell into thought: Come to think of it, high vampires could speed up the healing of their allies. Did Nanomi happen to know any other high vampires?
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