"I find the kings of the North revolting," Lann said softly. "What gives them the right to stand above others?"
"The Elder Blood is a power fit to rule the world—and I can share it with you. Together, no one would stand against us..."
"Elder... Elder Blood…"
Vilgefortz looked up. "How… how would you share it?"
His voice was thick with stupor, his eyes murky. "How... do you want me to help you?"
Lann met the mage's eyes.
"It's simple. Soon there will be a grand gathering on Thanedd Isle. I want you to pass this information to Nilfgaard—then go do what it is you've always wanted to do."
"What I… want to do?"
"Yes. The kind of thing a Northerner with strong Southern ties would do," Lann repeated.
Vilgefortz lowered his head, then slowly raised it again. "Elder… Blood… Good!"
Lann placed his left hand gently on Vilgefortz's forehead.
"You see? Now we have a foundation for dialogue."
"This bit of power is a down payment. Once the stage is set, and everything we've envisioned begins to play out…" Lann said gently, "You'll receive even more."
His experience points began to drop—soon, they dipped into the hundreds.
Sensing the energy flooding into him, Vilgefortz narrowed his eyes greedily.
But Lann suddenly furrowed his brow and withdrew his hand, drawing a confused look from the sorcerer.
Too much experience had been drained.
"You don't see me as a friend, Vilgefortz."
"No, no, no…"
Vilgefortz had tasted that long-coveted power. His mind and body were still reeling in ecstasy from the sensation. The idea that it might vanish again was unbearable.
So he stretched his neck forward, repositioning his forehead beneath Lann's palm.
"Elder Blood... once more," Vilgefortz murmured with thoughts scrambled by the decoctions. "Just once more. I won't... I swear."
Lann let out a cold chuckle, his fingers tightening slightly, pressing into Vilgefortz's scalp.
The sorcerer trembled in pain.
The experience points dropped again—but stopped even before reaching double digits.
Lann nodded in satisfaction.
...
A fiery red portal tore open in midair, the swirling winds within scattering manuscripts across the laboratory.
Vilgefortz stepped through it with a triumphant stride.
His robes were tattered, his appearance disheveled, his body reeking—but not a single visible wound marred his skin. He was radiating manic energy.
"Lydia!" the sorcerer shouted. "Lydia!"
Outside the secret laboratory, lightning cracked, and towering waves battered the rocks.
No reply came from his female assistant—she wasn't in the lab.
That was unusual.
Frowning, Vilgefortz strode over to a magical communication device.
He channeled energy into the dormant crystal. Electricity leapt between the metal rods, and soon a transparent magical screen flickered to life before his eyes.
The image that appeared was his laboratory in Aretuza—his official base under the watchful eyes of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers.
The hum of the magical communication device startled someone on the other end. A moment later, Lydia appeared hastily in the glowing screen. Vilgefortz had guessed correctly—his assistant was indeed in Aretuza.
Due to a magical experiment, Lydia had lost her voice, but her eyes lit up with surprise and delight when she saw Vilgefortz.
"You should've waited for me here," Vilgefortz rebuked her directly.
Lydia lowered her head.
"Why did you return to Aretuza? You realize this could have jeopardized our entire operation," he said, his tone filled with disapproval. "You were supposed to stay here and wait for my message at all times."
Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind.
"Was it because of that Lannister retainer? That apprentice named 'Ace'?"
Lydia couldn't speak, nor did she want to use magic to produce speech.
She simply bowed her head even lower.
You jeopardized our entire operation for the sake of an apprentice?
Vilgefortz had wanted to reprimand her harshly—she shouldn't have made such a careless mistake. Lydia had always been exceptionally cautious throughout their decades of cooperation.
But strangely, he suddenly remembered that the apprentice was Lannister's retainer.
Lannister...
"Don't let it happen again." The fury that had been smoldering within him suddenly lost its kindling and could no longer burn. In the end, that was all he said, flatly.
Lydia looked up abruptly, as if she'd heard something unbelievable. Her eyes were full of shock.
Vilgefortz paid her no mind. He strode over to the teleportation circle. As he began chanting the incantation, the gemstones brimming with raw, chaotic energy lit up like miniature suns, illuminating the surrounding runes.
The portal opened, and Lydia stepped through it.
"I'm sorry. I was a bit agitated just now," Vilgefortz said, softening his tone. "Please prepare a full medical examination. I was captured in Cintra and exposed to a large amount of hallucinogenic potions. I need to know whether they've caused any lasting damage to my body."
The illusion magic covering Lydia's facial injuries flickered briefly, and a worried voice echoed in the air.
"Is it serious?"
Vilgefortz nodded, then shook his head.
Vaguely, he felt like he must have been seriously wounded—especially the disfiguring scars left on his face by the higher vampire.
But right now, there's not a single scratch on me.
Was it Lannister's so-called 'sharing of the Elder Blood's power' that healed my injuries? Or... was I never really wounded in the first place?
Are there really higher vampires in Cintra? Would creatures of that caliber even serve Lannister?
A faint dizziness crept into Vilgefortz's mind again—that same dreamlike haze brought on by the potions.
He remembered that during his captivity, in the throes of a mental breakdown, he might have revealed many of his past schemes. But then... why had Lannister let him go?
Could it be that it was all just a hallucination brought on by the drugs—that nothing had actually been extracted from him?
Strangely, Vilgefortz found himself feeling that Lann was someone deeply trustworthy. Perhaps he really had resisted the effects of the interrogation potions.
"In addition to the physical exam, I want you to use magic to comb through my memories as well," Vilgefortz suggested. "My mind is a complete mess right now."
"Understood," Lydia replied at once, her voice vibrating subtly through the air.
Vilgefortz let out a long breath and collapsed into a chair in the laboratory. Outside, thunder and lightning raged.
As he listened to the rain battering against the walls, a sudden, urgent sense of something undone clawed at his chest.
"Has Nilfgaard contacted me recently?"
"They have, but you weren't here."
Vilgefortz paused for a moment in thought. "Tell them this: we now have a golden opportunity to wipe out all the northern mages in one strike. I need their cooperation."
...
There was nothing particularly surprising to Lann about Vilgefortz's status panel.
His innate talent was [Source of Magic], but Lann had already received that same talent from the ice giant through sharing.
As for the spells, they happened to overlap exactly with the [Transmogrification and Sealing Technique] Lann had already self-studied. In the end, all it really did was return him a ability point in full.
Unknowingly, this top-tier spellcaster of the Continent had become of little help to Lann after being contracted as a follower.
Lann gave his head a light shake and brought his attention back to the task at hand.
A black-covered, thread-bound book lay open before him. Lann picked up his pen and added the word [Nilfgaard] after the entry titled [Coup of Thanedd Isle].
The sixth faction had entered the stage—only then would Philippa have enough material to keep the performance going.
Lann nodded in satisfaction.
Yesterday, through the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, Triss had formally invited him to attend the Thanedd Isle Conference. The official date of the conference had also been set.
There was still some time left before it began. He would use the next few days to handle some current matters, and maybe make a stop in Temeria along the way.
"House!" Lann shouted toward the door. "Has there been any reply from Temeria recently?"
"Not yet, my lord!"
Alright then.
Lann tapped his fingers against his brow, wondering if it had anything to do with Ciri's recent engagement announcement.
In that case, let's see if there are any surprises waiting in Novigrad.
"Then bring Kiyan to me!"
The red-eyed Cat School witcher soon arrived, his gaze excited as he looked at Lann seated at the desk.
He was genuinely happy for Lann's accomplishments.
There was just one thing that left him slightly dissatisfied: "Why didn't you let me take part in your war to restore the kingdom? We Cats are better at killing men than monsters!"
Lann chuckled and reassured him, "You're my hidden ace in Redania. Right now, I need your help more than ever."
"How did that task I left you with go?"
Kiyan thought for a moment. "You won't believe it—Novigrad really is a complete mess. Besides Chappelle and that circus guy, I also found a doppler, a succubus, and even someone who can predict the future through dreams—a 'oneiromancer.'"
Lann calculated their combat value or potential other uses. "Anyone else?"
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