The party heading to confront the kingslayer consisted of ten people, Iorveth, Geralt of Rivia, and eight other Scoia'tael.
Dark clouds filled the afternoon sky, casting Flotsam Forest into ever deeper gloom. They stopped at the outskirts of the Cáelmewedd ruins.
Iorveth knew Victor had to be somewhere nearby, but to his surprise, neither his warriors nor he himself could detect the young man's position. The other witcher also appeared completely unaware, which meant Geralt had failed to notice the shadow following them.
The outsider had improved at an astonishing rate over the past two years. His woodland concealment skills were truly exceptional. Had he possessed such abilities back then, Iorveth might never have captured him.
Shaking his head, Iorveth turned to Geralt. "We need a ruse. Tell Letho you captured me and intend to hand me over to him."
"And what will you do?" the witcher asked without expression.
"I'll be disarmed and my hands will be bound. If you aren't lying, his reaction will confirm everything. Naturally, I don't trust you, so my warriors will cover us. Should you dare try anything foolish..."
"I understand."
"No, I don't think you do, so allow me to make myself perfectly clear. Do anything stupid and they'll tie you down on an anthill with your face coated in honey. You'll scream so loudly even the storm riders will hear you."
Unconcerned by Iorveth's threat, Geralt asked, "Do we really need to go through such a roundabout scheme? Why don't we simply confront Letho and force him to tell us the truth?"
"Ayd f'haeil moen Hirjeth taenverde."
"Conquer with courage rather than strength, right?"
Iorveth clapped dryly. "Exactly. Now let's go."
...
At the same time, not far away...
The moss-covered stones beneath his feet were damp and slippery. Victor stood with his arms folded, leaning against a tree trunk. His senses reached farther than Geralt's, allowing him to remain wrapped in the Chameleon Cloak and silently listen to the entire conversation.
As for his actual stealth skills, even with instruction from a witcher of the School of the Viper, two years had not been enough to transform him completely. However, with the assistance of Miraculous Alchemy, creating a cloak capable of diminishing his presence had not been particularly difficult.
The amusing part was that Victor had followed them all this way before realizing that the Cáelmewedd ruins were the very place where he had gathered roses of remembrance yesterday, the garden of the Eternal Lovers.
How ironic. To the elves, it was the Eternal Lovers. To humans, it was merely the Cáelmewedd ruins.
Moving with controlled lightness, Victor avoided alerting the Scoia'tael and decided to take a slight detour, approaching the ruins from the opposite side.
He drew a breath, feeling the dampness in the air through his nose. Heavy rain would probably begin soon.
Gripping the broken wall with both hands, he climbed to the top. Then, after several months apart, the young man finally saw that damned bald head again.
The massive man sat beside a fire, as steady and imposing as a block of granite, lost in thought.
"Fucking Letho! Why did you kill the king?"
Victor desperately wanted to roar those words, leap down, grab the man by the collar, and demand an answer. However, the sound of approaching footsteps stopped him. Iorveth and Geralt had appeared at the entrance to the ruins.
After a moment of hesitation, Victor decided to follow Angoulême's advice.
Wait a little longer, observe a little more, and gather additional information.
...
Above the Rose Baths, before the statue of Eldan and Cymoril embracing one another.
The kingslayer rose to his feet and narrowed his serpent eyes at the elf and the witcher. His hearing and sense of smell detected no one else nearby.
Pushing Iorveth forward with his hands bound behind his back, Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, openly approached Letho of Gulet. They stopped ten paces away.
Letho's voice was deep and hoarse. "Geralt of Rivia... It seems I underestimated you."
The witcher shoved Iorveth forcefully. "You certainly did. We finally meet again, kingslayer."
The giant ignored the White Wolf at first, looking instead at the elf who had stumbled to the ground.
"Heh. Iorveth, the woodland fox, the Vengeful Ghost. I never imagined someone would actually manage to capture you."
Before the elven commander could respond, Geralt raised a hand and interrupted him.
"Kingslayer! I'm the one speaking to you. Tell me your name, witcher!"
Faced with the White Wolf's low growl, Letho chuckled.
"So it's true. You really don't remember. I was worried you might ruin everything.
"We've met before, Geralt of Rivia. You simply lost your memory. But I'll never forget it. You once saved my life, White Wolf.
"I'm Letho of Gulet. We fought side by side. I regret that Foltest's death left you carrying the blame, but I never expected you to be the only person present."
"Don't pretend we're close. As far as I'm concerned, you're a stranger. First Demavend, then Foltest... Who else? What are you trying to accomplish?
"Ciaran already told me your objective. Tell me whom you serve, and Iorveth is yours to do with as you please."
The unexpected revelation finally caused a crack in Letho's granite expression.
"Is that so? I never expected him to survive that sword stroke."
Then he shook his head.
"I can answer your question. We serve only ourselves."
"We?"
"The kingslayers."
At those words, Iorveth slowly rose to his feet. Rage burned in his gaze as he glared at Letho.
"So you are a traitor... Letho! You will pay for this. Not only you, Serrit and Auckes will drown in their own blood."
"Oh, I don't think so. My companions will finish their mission long before the Scoia'tael of the Pontar Valley learn of your death."
Geralt turned toward the elf. "Serrit and Auckes, who are they?"
Iorveth answered bitterly, "Two other witchers. They're kingslayers cooperating with the Scoia'tael in Upper Aedirn."
"What game are you playing?"
The exchange between the woodland fox and the White Wolf instantly caused Letho to retreat two steps. He realized that the relationship between Geralt and Iorveth was not what it seemed.
The witcher drew his steel sword. "I don't see any other way to settle this. Draw your sword. You killed Foltest, and you'll pay for it."
"Not yet... Besides, you're the only witness who saw what happened. You're the one who will pay."
The kingslayer drew his steel sword as well.
Iorveth roared, "You think you still have a chance to escape? Vedrai! Enn'le!"
The eight Scoia'tael commandos waiting farther away immediately burst from the forest at the signal, nocking arrows and aiming their bows at Letho.
Victor, who had observed everything from beginning to end, was shocked.
In the span of only a few sentences, the situation had changed with frightening speed. It perfectly fulfilled what he had once warned Angoulême about.
Wait a little longer, observe a little more, then ultimately be forced to make a decision.
Without time to consider matters further, the young man prepared to charge out. Suddenly, a volley of crossbow bolts cut through the air. Two Scoia'tael fell instantly.
Vernon Roche had emerged from the bushes on the opposite side with more than a dozen Blue Stripes.
Roche led the charge. "Kill the elves! Capture the kingslayer!"
The commandos immediately turned their bows toward the Blue Stripes. Several arrows hissed through the air and brought down multiple soldiers, but the distraction gave Letho an opportunity to turn and retreat.
Within the Cáelmewedd ruins, both sides actually wanted to capture the kingslayer. However, the Blue Stripes and the Scoia'tael commandos were blood enemies. The moment they saw one another, their hatred overwhelmed all reason. There was no opportunity for explanations, and the entire scene instantly descended into chaos.
The elves were badly outnumbered and rapidly falling into danger. Iorveth strained against his bonds until they broke, then moved closer to Geralt.
"Give me my weapon!"
In that split second, Geralt reversed his sword and slammed the pommel heavily into Iorveth's chest, knocking him to the ground. He then raced after Letho.
The White Wolf had sold out the elf completely.
Watching from above, Victor was left dumbfounded. He immediately realized that this was the result of unequal information.
Geralt had heard only Loredo and Vernon Roche's accounts, so he certainly held no favorable opinion of Iorveth. In contrast, Victor's assurances, combined with what Iorveth had overheard outside the Rose Baths, had greatly reduced the woodland fox's hostility toward the White Wolf and left him unprepared for betrayal.
Amid the chaotic battle, Vernon Roche spotted Iorveth lying on the ground, still struggling to recover his breath. Roche cut down a Scoia'tael blocking his path and swung his sword toward the elf's arm. He intended to capture Iorveth and deliver him to the gallows.
Wait a little longer, observe a little more, then ultimately be forced to decide immediately.
"Aard!"
The Sign's shockwave tore through the air and hurled the commander of the Blue Stripes backward.
Roche staggered before regaining his balance. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing, Victor? Have you lost your mind?"
"I'm sorry, Roche, but I can't let you capture Iorveth. He's my friend. Could you do me this favor?"
"I'll give you a fucking favor!"
Vernon roared, activating the amulet on his chest with his left hand while thrusting his sword straight toward Victor's torso with his right.
Victor drew his steel sword and deflected the attack. At the same time, he sensed that the amulet on Roche's chest was disrupting the surrounding magical energy and interfering with his use of Signs.
Royal agents truly did possess some impressive equipment. The amulet had most likely been created by a royal adviser, perhaps Keira or Triss, specifically to help people without magical abilities fight sorcerers.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The continuous collision of steel echoed through the ruins.
If Victor could not use Signs, then so be it. He and Roche launched into a furious sword fight.
"The King's Guardian? Why is that sword in your hands?"
Victor paused in surprise. He had not expected Thaler's gift to possess such significance. Noticing that the blade was similar in design to Roche's sword, he immediately began to understand.
Once Roche had voiced the question, the commander of the Blue Stripes clearly realized the answer as well.
"Traitor! You aren't worthy of carrying that sword! If you're Iorveth's friend, then you must be working with the kingslayer!"
Victor blocked the Blue Stripe commander's fierce assault, then countered with a thrust that forced Roche backward.
"Well... I wouldn't call it betrayal. I'm definitely not working with the kingslayer, but... all right, he's also my friend."
Victor had wanted to explain his position for some time. Now that the battle had begun, he saw no point in delaying any longer and laid everything out plainly for Roche.
"I'll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!"
Rage sent adrenaline surging through Vernon Roche's body. His sword became both faster and heavier, instantly forcing Victor onto the defensive.
"Hey, don't get so worked up! Didn't you hear me? I'm not working with the kingslayer!"
Unwilling to use bombs against the Blue Stripes, the witcher struggled to defend himself beneath the storm of attacks.
Clang!
"Can you swear you had absolutely nothing to do with the assassinations?"
"I... That's a fucking unfair question!"
Clang!
Their blades collided, and both men were pushed apart.
Behind them stood the statue of Eldan and Cymoril, a symbol of eternal love.
Victor Corion and Vernon Roche prepared themselves for the second round.
...
A few minutes earlier, another crucial battle had begun within the garden.
Geralt of Rivia against Letho of Gulet.
"White Wolf, it's unfortunate that we now stand on opposing sides. We were once as close as brothers, yet today we must cross blades. I'm afraid I'll have to kill you."
"Come and try, kingslayer. I'm no king."
Their blades met.
Geralt's pirouette sword dance carried him with the graceful agility of a swallow, while Letho's vicious steel thrusts struck with the ferocity and cunning of a venomous serpent.
Their duel was undoubtedly the most spectacular and violent battle taking place within the garden.
They exchanged several rapid attacks, advancing, retreating, and evading one another. Without warning, they both stepped onto an unstable section of ground. The surface collapsed beneath them, and both witchers plunged downward.
They crashed into the water below, sending a spray in every direction.
The White Wolf and the Viper landed in a bathing pool covered with rose petals. Exquisitely carved beams and decorated walls surrounded them, while water poured from an urn resting upon the shoulder of a nude female statue.
The Rose Baths.
Geralt had battled passionately with Triss here yesterday. Today, he would fight Letho.
"Aard!"
Both witchers cast the Sign simultaneously. The opposing shockwaves collided and drove them several steps backward.
Taking advantage of the opening, they waded from the pool and climbed onto dry ground. Their violent exchange continued from the baths into the changing room, with the crashing of blades and explosive impacts echoing through every corner of the enclosed stone chamber.
Axii was useless against an opponent whose will was as unyielding as iron, but the other four Signs were extremely important.
Aard's shockwave, Igni's flames, Quen's protection, and Yrden's slowing effect.
In such a close and relentless sword fight, the smallest mistake would bring catastrophic consequences.
Several minutes of intense combat passed. Neither witcher could gain a decisive advantage.
However, while the White Wolf remained calm and confident, the Viper was becoming increasingly anxious.
Once the fighting above ended, regardless of which faction emerged victorious, they would not treat him as a friend. In other words, if the duel continued for too long, the kingslayer's journey would end here.
At that moment, Letho suddenly remembered Geralt's weakness.
As a former companion who had fought beside him against the Wild Hunt, Letho knew Geralt had once suffered a severe knee injury. An iron bar had shattered it. If Letho could exploit that weakness, he might defeat the White Wolf without killing him.
The moment the plan formed, he acted.
The Viper closed the distance once again and deliberately exposed an opening. When the White Wolf moved in to press his advantage, Letho struck directly at his knee.
Everything proceeded according to plan.
Thud!
Their knees collided.
Yet amid the sudden agony, Letho was stunned.
Geralt did not collapse. Instead, he endured the pain, raised his steel sword, and brought it down with tremendous force.
White light flashed.
In that instant, countless memories passed through the kingslayer's mind.
He did not wonder why Geralt's knee had completely recovered.
Defeat was defeat. Letho already owed Geralt his life, so returning it now did not particularly trouble him.
He merely felt it was unfortunate.
He would have liked to live a little longer.
Some claimed that people saw their lives flash before their eyes at the moment of death because a dying creature searched through every memory it possessed, desperately seeking some way to survive.
At the final moment, among the countless flickering images, Letho suddenly saw the young man beside the Yaruga River.
The boy was skipping stones across the water, smiling with shameless pride.
Letho's serpent eyes remained calm and unreadable.
Geralt's steel sword descended without hesitation.
This strike would bring the kingslayer's life to an end.
"Aard!"
A brilliant shockwave erupted with the force of a mountain, violently blasting the White Wolf away.
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