Perhaps the term "attention economy" was not known in every household.
One of its branches, however, never went out of fashion, sex appeal.
Everyone knew there was only one Earth, but breasts came in pairs!
The world-famous painting Liberty Leading the People taught us that a beautiful woman's breasts could inspire men to charge bravely forward and create countless miracles.
History had never lacked women who led fervent crowds to victory, such as Joan of Arc, the saint renowned for her miraculous courage, or the infamous Falka.
It was worth noting that breasts were not the only things capable of achieving such results. A full, rounded rear could produce a similar effect!
With a young woman's shapely backside leading the way, countless warriors would forget the wheat waiting to be harvested, the women waiting at home, and the half-pint of wine they had left behind at the inn.
Naturally, it had to be emphasized that all the aforementioned heroines required more than leadership ability. They also had to possess outstanding beauty. Crossed eyes, missing teeth, and a face covered in pockmarks generally failed to inspire the common people's yearning for freedom.
A woman like Saskia, with golden curls, smooth fair skin, bright eyes, white teeth, lovely lips, a generous bosom, a narrow waist, and rounded hips, was undoubtedly the embodiment of freedom.
Looking at her was like looking directly at freedom itself. It was no wonder the peasant uprising had spread like wildfire.
Her charisma rivaled that of King Arthur Pendragon, and countless people were willing to follow her to the very edge of the horizon!
...
That evening, not long after the round-table council ended, Iorveth finished exchanging opinions with Saskia and followed the mountain road to Angoulême's home.
A wooden sign reading Victor's Alchemy Workshop had been nailed to the door. Graceful music drifted from inside, proving that he had found the correct place.
When knocking received no response, the elf simply entered.
Passing through the entrance hall and into the sitting room, he found Victor sprawled across the sofa as though he had melted into the cushions.
Iorveth had no need for a cultural explanation. Such an utterly lazy and relaxed posture was universal.
When Victor saw the elf appear, he grabbed a bottle of red wine and a glass and placed them on the seat opposite him. He continued drinking his own milk.
Iorveth sat down, poured himself a drink, and began drinking alone.
"I truly appreciate what you did today, both rescuing Saskia from the mist and attending the round-table council. You were under no obligation to do either."
"It's fine. A bet is a bet, and I know when I've lost. After seeing her with my own eyes, I admit that Saskia would make an excellent ruler for the ideal country you described. She possesses astonishing beauty, miraculous courage, and overwhelming command presence."
"Why do I hear sarcasm when every word you said was complimentary?"
Victor stretched his limbs, reached out, and stopped the music.
"Perhaps because I'm suspicious by nature. Frankly, the Saint of Aedirn seems so exceptional that she hardly feels real, almost as though she isn't human.
"And I didn't exactly rescue her in the mist. My arrival saved the others. With the Dragonslayer's strength, she could have defeated the draugir and wraiths without me. A few more people would simply have died in the process."
Iorveth smiled without replying.
"Then there was her speech at the council. That also deserves consideration. The words themselves were perfectly ordinary, yet when she spoke them, I felt genuine sincerity, as though she truly believed every word and would actually carry out every promise.
"That kind of persuasion, the ability to reach directly into people's hearts, is exceedingly rare."
The elf poured another glass of wine and pushed it toward the witcher.
"Why have you never considered that you might be standing before a hero born only once in an age?"
"I don't believe in miracles. Inspiring speeches rarely have much effect on me. If my School of the Wolf medallion hadn't remained still, I would almost have suspected magical influence."
"Hahahaha! I didn't believe in miracles either, not until I met the Dragonslayer.
"I'll tell you a secret. I'm extremely sensitive to the way humans look at me. After centuries of experience, I can easily distinguish those who merely pretend to believe in equality from those who genuinely do.
"The reason I first regarded you differently was that, in your heart, you saw nothing inferior about elves. It wasn't an act meant to manipulate or exploit us. In your eyes, humans and elves were genuinely equal.
"That was when I began believing your story about coming from Bell Town, east of Zerrikania."
Iorveth clinked his glass against Victor's.
"And Saskia, the Saint of Aedirn, thinks the same way. Human or nonhuman, everyone who stands before her is equal."
Victor remembered the incomparable charm Saskia had displayed while speaking during the council.
The witcher blinked, picked up the red wine, and took a sip.
Seeing Victor remain silent, Iorveth shook his head and chuckled.
"You'll believe it sooner or later. Now, regarding this dense fog, is there anything I can do to help?"
Victor gathered his wandering thoughts, returned to the present, and rubbed his nose.
"Hmm... Not at the moment. There's actually no need to be overly concerned about the spectral disturbance on the battlefield..."
Noticing the elf's bewilderment, Victor smiled and continued explaining.
"The situation is serious, but it isn't urgent. Philippa's conclusion was correct. The mist will continue spreading and eventually engulf Vergen, but I'm not certain whether she knows that the process will take at least several months."
Victor could be confident only because his mutated magical perception allowed him to make such an assessment.
An ordinary witcher could never have evaluated the phenomenon accurately.
Before hearing his explanation, Iorveth had merely been confused. Afterward, he was shocked.
Anything a witcher could detect should surely have been within Philippa's abilities as well.
The mist divided the northern and southern armies, and its influence on the war was self-evident. If it persisted long enough, Kaedwen might even exhaust its supplies and withdraw voluntarily.
Yet Philippa had not mentioned this crucial information during the council. Instead, she had insisted that the curse needed to be broken as quickly as possible.
"Are you certain?"
"I trust my judgment. The mist cannot continue expanding at its current rate. Its rate of growth will inevitably plummet within half a month.
"But Philippa is no ordinary sorceress. She's experienced and highly skilled, and the Dragonslayer trusts her deeply. I have no intention of publicly contradicting her. Perhaps she has other reasons for withholding an explanation.
"Remember that this is a private conversation. Once you walk through that door, I'll deny ever saying any of this. I suggest that you refrain from mentioning it to Saskia as well.
"In practical terms, I'll do everything I can to help you. After all, I would also like to see a country where humans and nonhumans can coexist peacefully."
After saying this, the witcher smiled at the doubtful elf, picked up the bottle, and refilled his glass.
...
Victor finished his morning run the following day and stopped at the notice board outside the Cauldron to gather information.
There were few interesting matters posted there and even fewer related to witchers.
"The Harpy Contract"
Good citizens of Vergen, take heed!
Since so many courageous heroes have gathered in our fair city, perhaps one among them will be willing to perform a public service by venturing to the harpy nest and exterminating the creatures once and for all.
I promise a generous reward, along with eternal glory as a monster slayer.
With my sincerest regards,
Alderman Cecil Burdon
...
"The Queen Harpy Contract"
Attention!
I hereby offer a substantial reward for the harpy queen, also called the mother of all harpies.
Beware, for this beast is no easy quarry. Many hunters have been torn apart by her vicious teeth. This will be a difficult battle.
The warrior who rids us of this winged bitch will receive a handsome reward.
Alderman Cecil Burdon
...
From the two notices, Victor learned that harpies were Vergen's principal problem at present.
These monsters possessed hideous appearances, smelled like rotting corpses and bird droppings, and emitted cries that made the hair stand on end.
Apart from the fact that both possessed wings, every other aspect of the creatures made it difficult to accept that ekhidnae, those mermaid-like beings, were their distant relatives.
Victor tore down both notices.
Considering the respective distances, he decided to visit Philippa Eilhart first, then call upon Cecil Burdon.
Many people knew where the sorceress lived because they made a deliberate effort to stay away from her residence.
Victor soon arrived in the upper district, where a peculiar stone sculpture stood before her door.
He rang the bell but received no response.
The young man opened the door and entered.
The layout resembled Angoulême's home. It was a simply decorated cave dwelling with only a few pieces of furniture, but each was exquisitely made.
It reminded Victor of the Redanian palace he had once visited, magnificent without being extravagant, cool and peaceful.
Noticing an obvious magical fluctuation, Victor crossed the sitting room and went farther inside.
He then discovered why the house had been so quiet.
A pale blue soundproofing barrier surrounded the bedroom.
The sudden darkness did nothing to obstruct the extraordinary vision of his blue Rinnegan.
Philippa Eilhart and another woman were on the bed, exploring fourteen different applications for a pair of nunchaku.
Although the barrier prevented any sound from escaping, their silence spoke louder than words. From the women's alluring yet intense expressions, the young man could easily imagine the thunderous battle cries within and the brutality of the struggle taking place.
Common sense dictated that Victor should quietly withdraw and return later.
Unfortunately, the two partially dressed women also noticed him standing outside.
The unfamiliar woman shyly retreated behind the sorceress.
Philippa, however, sat up without the slightest concern and smiled. After meeting the young man's gaze for a moment, she beckoned for him to come inside.
The sorceress's lips were red, glossy, and wet.
The witcher's steel sword stirred restlessly.
One step forward, and an entirely new world would open before him.
One step backward, and the boundless sky and sea would remain his.
Countless thoughts flashed through Victor's mind.
He smiled in response, placed a hand over his chest, bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and backed out of the bedroom without straightening.
Some time later, a fully dressed Philippa Eilhart entered the sitting room.
A red, spaghetti-strap gown wrapped cleverly around her firm, mature curves. She sat opposite the witcher with dignified serenity, as though nothing whatsoever had occurred.
When the blonde, blue-eyed woman brought them tea, Victor recognized her as Philippa's magical apprentice, Cynthia, with whom he had once shared a carriage in Tretogor.
The young man chose to come directly to the point.
"Good day, dear Lady Eilhart. Forgive my sudden visit. I'm delighted to encounter you here, but I'm also curious. What brought the Jewel of the Court at Tretogor here to support a rebellion in the Pontar Valley?"
"Witcher, you've only just arrived, so naturally you don't understand. This is not a simple rebellion. Prince Stennis's presence here is effectively an acknowledgment that Saskia is qualified to represent Aedirn."
"But Saskia isn't fighting for Aedirn. She's fighting for the Pontar Valley. I don't believe Prince Stennis approves of your plans. The only reason he hasn't openly turned against you is that war with Kaedwen is about to erupt."
"And because he lacks the strength to do so," the sorceress added with relaxed amusement.
Her black eyes were perfectly clear, yet looking into them felt like staring into a deep, dark lake.
"You're an intelligent man, so I'll spend a little time explaining. This is part of my duty as a royal advisor.
"If Henselt occupies the Pontar Valley, Redania and Temeria will inevitably respond strongly. The Northern alliance will disintegrate and cease presenting a united front.
"That dark outcome must be prevented. If Saskia defeats Henselt and wins independence for the valley, a new balance of power can emerge."
Before visiting, Victor had relied on memories from his previous life and information shared by Siegfried to form a theory.
He had assumed that Radovid had driven Philippa out of Redania, forcing her to flee in disgrace and seek shelter with the Dragonslayer, who was preparing to establish a new nation.
Yet her explanation also seemed perfectly reasonable.
An old fox like Philippa possessed impeccable control over her expression. Victor could not determine whether she was telling the truth, so he simply continued questioning her.
"Even if Saskia defeats Henselt, the Pontar Valley cannot truly become independent without recognition from Redania and Temeria."
"Temeria's expansionist ambitions died with Foltest. Redania's ruler is less predictable, but even Radovid must show respect to a victor.
"I am here to ensure that victory becomes reality."
"Thank you for answering my questions and resolving my doubts.
"There's another matter. While you've been here, have you seen another witcher? Perhaps a tall, powerfully built man with muscles as hard as granite passed before your eyes.
"He is Letho the Kingslayer, the man who murdered King Foltest. He may also have killed Demavend.
"He abducted Triss Merigold and forced her to teleport them somewhere near this area. Can you help me find her?"
The instant Victor finished speaking, his extraordinary senses faintly detected the sound of something falling inside the bedroom.
"Of course. Sorceresses face hostility from countless enemies, so we must remain united. Triss contacted me through a megascope not long ago. I never expected something like this to happen afterward.
"Wait... This may be important. Several days ago, a local drunk claimed that he saw a red-haired woman fall from the sky. That could be a clue."
"Fall from the sky? Are you serious?"
"It may have been nothing more than a drunken hallucination, but an unstable portal might also have expelled Triss somewhere near the town."
"Can you determine her current location?"
"I cannot track her from nothing. But if you find an object she wore against her body during the past few days, I can attempt to locate her with a spell."
"Very well. Then we're back where we started. I'll find this drunk and question him. Do you know who he is?"
"I rarely associate with drunkards, but you can probably find him at the Cauldron. You also possess the Axii Sign.
"Now, let us discuss serious business. During the council, I mentioned that I would require your assistance with this dangerous curse. Would you be willing to help me collect several objects?
"Naturally, I do not expect you to work without compensation. I would be delighted to offer an adequate price."
When Philippa spoke the words "adequate price" in her magnetic voice, Victor involuntarily remembered the pale skin and vivid red he had witnessed earlier.
The witcher suddenly coughed twice, then nodded and declared firmly, "You help me, and I help you. That is perfectly reasonable. I accept your commission, though naturally I will also require adequate information."
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