When Victor left Kalkstein's alchemy workshop, the sky had turned to a fine, needling drizzle again. He hesitated beneath the eaves for a moment, then decided to walk in the rain. Still, before heading home, he needed to stop somewhere first—to test a few of his suspicions.
…
After finishing his little verification and returning home, Victor found that every last slice of the apple pie left from lunch had vanished. Dandelion didn't have that strong a sweet tooth, and Catherine—needless to say—was the sort who preferred meat. That meant only one person could've pulled this off.
Looks like her recovery was going extremely well. She could get out of bed to forage on her own now, and her appetite was excellent. And since Shani would probably come by later to check on the injured, Victor decided he'd cook something good himself.
By the time the third dish—still sizzling and fragrant with meat—hit the table, Victor caught a glimpse at the stair landing: Angoulême, peeking around the corner like a thief. Sure enough, she'd been lured in by the smell.
He cut off a piece of chicken onto a plate and waved her over. "Shani should come by tonight. We'll wait for her before we start on the rest."
Angoulême walked up, grabbed the chicken, and tossed it into her mouth. "No problem! Tastes great!"
"How do you feel?"
She rolled her neck. "My ears are still ringing a little. Other than that, nothing." After swallowing, she flopped into the lounge chair in the sitting room—striking an impressively unladylike pose.
Victor dragged another lounge chair over beside her and handed her a vial of medicine to drink. Then he half-reclined as well, settling into the easy calm before the meal.
He heard her voice. "Vic… yesterday… what happened after I passed out?"
Victor turned his head. Angoulême was staring at the ceiling like there was a famous mural painted up there.
"…Shani didn't tell you after you woke up?"
"She just told me to rest…" Her tone dipped.
Victor knew that sound. It was the classic Angoulême problem—getting dropped by a monster, losing confidence, and immediately panicking about whether her status as "top enforcer" was in danger.
Luckily, Victor had plenty of experience dealing with simple creatures. In moments like this, you just redirected their attention.
"In short… I used your crossbow to make her shut up. Then I carried you out, and halfway through our retreat, three School of the Viper witchers 'just happened to pass by' and took care of the female vampire for us."
"Should I say 'witchers really are witchers'?" Angoulême couldn't resist the urge to complain. "Even the sewers are a place they can 'just happen to pass by'?"
Being able to complain meant she was back to normal.
Victor chuckled. "They mistook me for a lone apprentice and planned to take me in. They'd been tailing me for days."
"Days… I didn't feel a thing." Angoulême sounded genuinely surprised.
"Of course you didn't. Vipers specialize in stealth and infiltration." And then, suddenly, a powerful wave of mischief rose in Victor's chest. He tried to hold it back—he really did—fought it with every ounce of restraint he had…
…and failed completely.
"You have to understand, back in the day, the Viper elders had a legendary predecessor—Solid Snake. He possessed extraordinary intelligence, spoke six languages fluently, and with peerless stealth skills he infiltrated Nilfgaard multiple times to sabotage colossal golems. They called him the 'legendary mercenary,' the 'legendary hero,' and 'the man who made the impossible possible.'"
Angoulême stopped paying attention to the ceiling and turned to stare at Victor's face. "I've never heard of that person… and why do I suddenly feel like you're making things up again? Is this your hometown's sense of humor?"
"Tsk." She was getting less adorable by the day. Harder and harder to fool. What happened to the good kid who believed anything you told her?
"I'm not making it up. It was the covert war of infiltrators between Solid Snake and Liquid Snake that laid the foundation for Redania's prosperity. The famous tradition of the kingdom's intelligence service started right there."
With absolutely zero guilt, Victor dragged Redania's very real "royal intelligence service" out as a stamp of legitimacy for his nonsense—and then doubled down, piling even more shameless invention on top.
In the end, ten minutes of expertly mixed half-truths and outright fabrication later, Victor successfully convinced Angoulême to accept the School of the Viper's "glorious, mythical past" as established fact.
Her gloom completely swept away by the heroic tale, Angoulême perked right up. "Hey, Captain—if the female vampire went down, then there aren't any monsters left in there. Doesn't that mean Yaevinn's contract is basically done?"
"Yeah… why?"
"If it's done, then the contract can't bind us anymore. I remember Yaevinn said it was the ruins where an elven mage lived, and there were lots of 'treasures' inside." The more she spoke, the more that strange smile crept across her face.
Of course. Of course it had to be you. What is that slightly-below-average moral compass? Why are you smiling so sleazily? Do I need to reflect on where my "quality education" went wrong?
Victor took a sip of milk. "I swung by to check before coming home. It's empty. Truly empty—absolutely nothing. No sign anyone ever lived there."
"Huh? Nothing at all? No way." Angoulême looked like she couldn't believe it. "For one empty hall, he threw away an entire assault squad and still wouldn't let it go—then he came to you for help?"
Victor folded his arms. "I think it's strange too. All I can do is assume he got misled by some text and genuinely believed there were ruins underground. Otherwise, it's not like he's just a caring citizen devoted to removing hidden dangers for Vizima's people."
"He'd love nothing more than seeing humans wiped out."
"Either way, tomorrow I'll go settle up with him and talk this through face-to-face. The job went beyond any reasonable scope—so it's only right to demand extra pay. You stay home and rest. No need to come with me."
Right as he finished speaking, there was a knock at the door. Angoulême jumped up, assuming it was Shani. She ran to answer, calling out as she went, "Why didn't you let yourself in? Forget your key?"
Victor stood too, ready to welcome Shani—
Only for the door to open and reveal several knights. Their chests bore the Temerian lily emblem. Royal guards.
Seeing this group—the same "running buddies" from that time he'd gone jogging in his Batman act—Victor's heart skipped hard. For a split second, he thought he'd been found out.
Then one of the knights stepped in, supporting Dandelion by the arm, and Victor immediately relaxed—pulling his hand back out of his herb pouch as if it had never gone in.
Angoulême directed the knight to carry the poet up to a bedroom on the third floor, leaving Victor to speak with the knight in charge.
"Roderick de Wett," the knight said. "Royal Guard. You must be Mr. Victor—the 'angel-voiced musician' Master Dandelion spoke of."
He was a neatly featured man with black hair and brown eyes, carrying himself with impeccable posture. His Common Speech had a Nilfgaardian accent. He dipped into a slight bow.
Victor returned the bow. "I don't deserve that title. I'm only an amateur."
—Victor could now fully understand why Geralt sometimes wanted to draw a sword and cut Dandelion down. Right now, Victor felt that same impulse.
Roderick, on the other hand, looked very pleased with Victor—polite, well-spoken, and perfectly ordinary-looking. "No. There's no need for modesty. If the master emphasized you again and again, you must have exceptional talent.
"The day after tomorrow, Princess Adda will host a court banquet. Master Dandelion has been invited to perform, and he insisted that if your lute joins him, it will make Vizima's night sky shine even brighter.
"This is a formal invitation from Temeria's princess."
As he spoke, he drew out an ornate, gilt invitation and offered it with both hands to Victor the bard.
—An axe. It had to be an axe. Something blunt. Start with the limbs. That bastard couldn't be allowed to die too quickly.
Victor accepted the invitation with both hands, smiling brightly. "It would be my honor."
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