The sorceress left.
Another one dealt with.
Victor stretched lazily and smiled with satisfaction.
Counting from the moment he had joined the banquet until now, he had dealt with four women in total. They were not all troublesome, but every one of them had consumed a considerable amount of energy.
Fortunately, after settling matters with Yennefer, there should be no one else.
Looking forward to finally relaxing, Victor leisurely made his way down the mountain.
Unfortunately, he had not gone far when the sight of a certain figure standing beside a pond stopped him in his tracks.
There were some things he needed to make perfectly clear to her.
In this secluded corner stood a pond with a peculiar black-stone statue at its center. It depicted a gaunt, bald old man in ragged clothes, sitting motionless upon a stone platform. His body was covered in scars, and his sunken eyes stared straight ahead.
Victor suddenly felt that the statue looked strangely familiar.
But he quickly shifted his attention back to the lady standing by the water.
Orianna.
No higher vampire could ever be taken lightly, even when she appeared completely defenseless and seemingly had not noticed the witcher approaching from the side.
When his riding boots crushed the fallen leaves with a dry crunch, Orianna turned her head toward Victor.
He stopped beside the pond, roughly a quarter of the shoreline's circumference away from her, a distance at which both of them could feel comfortable.
Today she wore a red-and-black gown.
Red for passion, black for mystery.
"I didn't expect to encounter you here, Lady Orianna."
Victor placed his right hand over his heart as he spoke.
Orianna inclined her head in return.
"It is indeed rather unusual. Although I frequently sponsor the artists of Mandragora, I rarely attend banquets hosted by others.
"After all, these formulaic occasions are always filled with the same eating, drinking, and tedious vulgar conversation. I find them profoundly uninteresting."
"But today is different. The wicked vampires have been driven out of the city. Surely that's particularly worthy of celebration, wouldn't you agree?"
Catching the provocation in his words, a flash of crimson passed through her eyes.
"Witcher Victor Corion, I respect you, and I respect the noble things you have done. But I must remind you of something. During the Night of Long Fangs, your role was nowhere near as indispensable as you seem to believe.
"Dettlaff's actions might not have directly crossed the line, but they nevertheless violated our agreement. Had you failed, once dawn came and the lesser vampires withdrew, I would personally have visited the Unseen Elder.
"Dettlaff would then have been imprisoned at Tesham Mutna, just as Khagmar was centuries ago.
"So don't think too highly of yourself. Your efforts merely brought the matter to an end a few hours earlier.
"Of course... as the man who defeated Dettlaff, you still have my due respect."
"I heard from Regis that your kind once reached a private agreement with the rulers of this country. Does Anna Henrietta know?"
"No. Her Enlightened Ladyship is not quite so enlightened in certain matters. She can even be rather foolish. Fringilla Vigo is the keeper of that secret. Had she been present to mediate this incident, it should have been resolved much sooner."
"I see. But filthy political dealings like that really have nothing to do with a witcher, and I'm not particularly interested in knowing more.
"As a realist, I don't consider what you do especially excessive. Particularly compared with certain nobles who keep children as toys or even chamber pots, your immoral transactions still fall within what I can tolerate."
Orianna raised her chin slightly and glanced sideways at the witcher.
The higher vampire knew he had not finished.
"But I'm warning you, don't cross the line! If I ever learn that you aren't merely drinking blood, but actually killing people, I'll come back for you.
"And I can tell you right now, when I do come for you, the lesson and suffering awaiting you will last longer than Dettlaff's did... much longer..."
Orianna's eyes narrowed dangerously, exposing a fang at the corner of her lips.
Victor calmly returned her gaze, his right hand settling on the hilt of his sword.
The murderous tension lingered for several moments.
Then the higher vampire raised one index finger and slowly wagged it from side to side.
"Witcher who defeated Dettlaff, I have no reason to fight you. Your threat has indeed been received...
"Your words have made me uncomfortable, so I will be leaving now. Is there anything else you wish to say?"
Victor bent down, picked up a small stone, flicked his wrist, and tossed it into the pond.
"No. I have nothing else to say..."
Orianna placed a hand over her heart in farewell, lifted the hem of her long dress, and gracefully departed.
In the blink of an eye, Victor was alone beside the peaceful pond once more.
He stared at the statue in the center of the water, lost in his peculiar thoughts.
...
At long last, he had successfully intimidated the fifth woman, Orianna.
His journey through Toussaint could finally be considered a complete success.
Surely there would be no more trouble.
His next objective was to head north to Novigrad before the heavy winter snow closed the mountain passes, then quietly wait for Ciri to appear.
Once she returned, he would put a magic-isolating amulet on her to buy some time, retreat to Kaer Morhen, and prepare with everything he had to give the Wild Hunt pursuing her one hell of a surprise.
Then, once that "stubborn little girl" regained her freedom, he would ask her to take him traveling between worlds a few more times.
With his master-level craftsmanship, he should then be able to create something similar to a spatial gate and travel back and forth to the alchemy world he had lived in before crossing over.
His two grandmothers and his aunt...
He had disappeared for so long that he had no idea how they were doing now.
But one thing was easy enough to predict.
They were probably still as scatterbrained and happy as ever.
There was nothing in the alchemy world capable of threatening them.
And here in the witcher's world, he could hardly disgrace the reputation of an alchemist.
...
...
...
Time slipped away amid those pleasant fantasies.
Before he realized it, the final rays of sunset had vanished beyond the horizon, while the misty veil of night slowly settled over the pond.
Victor patted his knees and stood, preparing to leave.
Then his unfocused pupils abruptly contracted.
The Blue Rinnegan flared with brilliant light.
Because an unbelievable sight had appeared before him.
There was a naked woman swimming underwater in the pond.
If this had happened down at the foot of the mountain where the banquet was at its wildest, Victor could have accepted that some drunken guest had gotten carried away.
But this was a deserted corner halfway up the mountain!
And even if he had been lost in thought, no one could possibly have slipped past his superhuman five senses, silently undressed, and jumped into the water.
Suspicious!
Her appearance was far too suspicious.
Victor had no choice but to focus his complete attention on her.
The first thing he could tell was that this woman's figure was absolutely outrageous.
Her narrow waist and long legs looked like an enhanced version of the standard vampire beauty, while the proud curves higher up were impressive enough to make Newton question gravity itself.
Secondly...
She was swimming directly toward him.
And her skin was green.
Green...!?
A certain legend suddenly sprang to mind.
Victor watched as the naked woman approached, then smoothly rose from the water and stood gracefully upon its surface.
They stared at one another.
Thanks to his long-standing habit of drinking milk, Victor had grown exceptionally tall. In armor, he stood close to six foot three, a long-limbed and powerfully built man.
But the green-skinned naked woman before him was hardly diminutive.
She stood at least six feet tall, and her most conspicuous assets could rally men's hearts all by themselves. She was a truly heroic specimen of womanhood.
Her skin was smooth, while her braided hair resembled the weeds floating in the lake, hanging naturally and loosely around her.
Watching the faintly amused expression on her face, Victor rubbed his nose and finally broke the awkward silence.
"May I ask... are you the Lady of the Lake?"
Her face immediately blossomed into a radiant smile, as delighted as a child.
"I knew it! You really do know who I am. But if that's the case, why did you never come looking for me? Surely you saw the duchy's notice boards."
The Lady of the Lake's direct words reminded the witcher of a notice from his memories inviting worthy candidates to undergo a trial.
"Uh... I remember it saying the trial would be held on an island in Lac Célavy. I was planning to visit when I had some free time."
"But I couldn't wait!
"Years race by, and every age needs heroes to defend all that is good and virtuous. I found a suitable candidate, yet he refused to come find me, so I had no choice but to come to him myself!"
The Lady of the Lake spoke playfully.
And despite her green skin, her curves were so spectacular that Victor found it somewhat difficult to look directly at her.
"Then, my lady, could the reason you've come looking for me be...?"
"Exactly what you're thinking. I possess a divine sword of unparalleled greatness, and only someone who embodies all Five Chivalric Virtues may possess it."
As she spoke, she reached out and took Victor by the hand, pulling him toward the center of the pond.
With the fairy's assistance, ripples spread beneath every step they took across the water.
For the young man, it was a rare experience.
The dreamlike scene was fascinating, but Victor nevertheless caught her hand and stopped her.
"My lady, please wait. I, Victor Corion, have accumulated plenty of impressive titles, but when it comes to virtue... I truly don't know.
"I'm not certain you've chosen the right person."
The Lady of the Lake smiled beautifully, her magnificent peaks bouncing merrily.
"It is you, no mistake! Although you don't know it, I've actually been quietly watching over you all along.
"Ever since you arrived in Toussaint, I have witnessed everything you've done.
"I know perfectly well that you do not lack wisdom.
"You have shown sincere compassion toward the weak.
"Countless people can testify to your honor.
"Through humility, you have demonstrated generosity.
"And your valor is the very essence from which legends are born!
"Honor, wisdom, generosity, valor, compassion, all these fine virtues truly dwell within your heart.
"There can be no doubt.
"You are the one I have been seeking, a true knight of the Five Chivalric Virtues!"
Her enthusiastic praise left Victor slightly embarrassed.
Only then did he suddenly realize that, at some unknown point, the surrounding waterfalls had risen high into the air and curled backward, enclosing the two of them at the center of the lake.
Following the direction of her slender finger, Victor looked through the crystal-clear water beneath his feet.
Far below lay an ornate hand-and-a-half sword engraved with countless runes.
He would remember this fantastical moment for the rest of his life.
The divine sword itself was almost secondary.
What truly mattered was the recognition it represented.
Even though he had never considered himself a good man...
The Lady of the Lake moved close, embraced Victor, and kissed him.
Then she gracefully sank before his eyes and brought the rune-covered sword up from the bottom of the lake.
"Behold! Victor Corion, embodiment of virtue, this is your Aerondight...
"Take it, and never forget that you are a warrior devoted to goodness, justice, and honor."
Victor met the Lady of the Lake's eyes, then bowed and humbly accepted the weapon with both hands.
The next instant, through physical contact, he read the sword's attributes.
The alchemist was immediately surprised.
...
[Name: Aerondight]
[Type: Weapon (Steel Sword)]
[Quality: Legendary]
[Attack Power: Supreme]
[Traits: Unfading Light of the Lake, Cleaves Iron and Steel]
[Enchantments: None]
[Runes: Broken]
[Note: A divine sword entrusted by the Lady of the Lake to a knight of virtue. Its blade shines like lake water beneath the moon and can never be destroyed.]
...
It was difficult to believe, but his Void traits allowed him to determine that this sword was actually a product of Miraculous Alchemy.
Victor immediately wanted to ask about Aerondight's origins.
Unfortunately...
Splash!
The magic vanished, and he dropped straight into the pond.
By the time the witcher surfaced again, the Lady of the Lake had already disappeared without a trace.
Everything around him was calm and peaceful beneath a tranquil night sky.
Only Aerondight, still tightly gripped in his hand, proved that what had just happened had not been a dream.
Victor pursed his lips in silence.
Dealing with six women in succession truly made for an exhausting day.
Then Victor swam back to shore.
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