After breakfast, Geralt left High Hill Castle, not even riding a horse.
The mountain isn't big or small, but when ensuring concealment during the investigation, there's no need for a horse.
The White Wolf tied up his hair, two Valerian Steel Swords on his back, wearing high-level Wolf School armor. A row of Alchemy Bombs swayed and clinked at the armor's attachments.
On the leather strap slung across his shoulder, more than a dozen test tubes of various Magic Potions were inserted.
His eyes were filled with murderous intent.
After all, if it is really as Lann felt, with all these troubles linked together now... Geralt can't imagine who would want to use Ciri for something!
But whether he can imagine it or not, he is now ready to act for Ciri.
The once small girl, like a hamster, seemed like a burdensome child, but now... Whoever dares to plot against her, the White Wolf will fight to the end, even if it means losing some teeth!
