In An Skellig's dungeon.
Three surviving berserkers were being held under strict guard. However, the Skellige soldiers were offering them special treatment. They were not prisoners in the strict sense of the word; rather, they were people whom Lord Eist had ordered to be held in temporary custody until they could be brought under control and subsequently recruited into his ranks.
These berserkers had not always been frenzied warriors. Before, they were simple peasants and fishermen. Although some soldiers who had fought against them viewed them with resentment, others felt a certain compassion. Eist chose a few trusted soldiers as their guards.
But today, the three berserkers suddenly fell to the ground, writhing and holding their heads in despair. Once, in a trance-induced state, they had been forced to drink a potion while long sentences were engraved in their minds as if it were a brainwashing. Now, those words suddenly appeared in their thoughts, prompting them to recite them out of their own mouths involuntarily.
"What's going on? What's wrong with them?" Confusion filled the dungeon. But no one dared enter the cage for fear of facing three possible giant Skellige bears that could appear at any moment.
It was then that two figures emerged from the end of the hallway.
One of them was Bill, who wore a grim expression, as if the recent destruction of the Vildkaarl stronghold had not dispelled the shadows that tormented him. He was accompanied by House, under direct orders from Lann.
"What are you doing here?" growled one of the soldiers in charge of surveillance, visibly irritated by the situation.
House frowned at the soldier's rudeness and stood protectively in front of Bill. "We've come to bring food," House replied firmly, "and my partner wants to visit his countrymen. After all, he'll be leaving with us for Cintra soon."
House turned to the cage when he noticed the chaos. He watched the three berserkers reciting those strange words and, worried, he turned to Bill: "This can only be the berserkers' doing. You're one too, do you feel strange? Do you know why they're acting like this?"
Bill shook his head. "I don't feel anything, and I have no idea what's going on..."
...
On Undvik Island, the ice giant that was originally undergoing a terrifying transformation suddenly stopped.
The blood-red light that enveloped its entire body seemed to waver and recede, unable to maintain the intended intensity of energy. The wooden statue, though more sinister than ever, began to show signs of weakness.
...
Hearing Bill's answer, the Skellige soldiers did not hide their impatience. One of them stepped forward, intending to grab Bill by the shirt, but upon meeting House's gaze, he stopped himself. "You have to know something!" he shouted, pointing at Bill in frustration. "You're just like them, so talk!"
Bill blinked, puzzled. In a naive tone, he suggested, "If they're saying something weird, why don't you just cover their mouths? It would also stop them from biting their tongues..."
The soldiers were stunned for a moment and looked at the iron cage.
Noticing their hesitation, Bill stepped forward and offered. "Let me do it."
...
All the changes in the ice giant came to an abrupt end.
The light that was pouring out from the blood-stained oak idol suddenly shrank. Finally, it vanished completely. The shadows that covered the sky dissipated, and along with them, the storm of thunder and gusts of wind disappeared.
Only the avalanches triggered by the roars of the colossus continued their course. Fortunately, the creatures that inhabited the snowy mountains since their birth had ways to avoid these natural disasters. However, they had lost their homes. Now, they trembled as they looked towards the cause of it all: the lair of the ancient beast.
The strange colors that stained the rock walls disappeared, returning the place to its original appearance: an icy cave, frozen for millennia.
The ice giant lay on the ground. After a while, he suddenly opened his eyes.
Frantic emotions alternated in his gaze: madness, confusion, rage, hunger, contempt, joy, terror... Each eye seemed to house a different consciousness, fighting for control of his mind.
With a cry of pain, the giant grabbed his head and began to bang it against the rock walls, seeking to ease the agony with physical pain.
Little by little, their cries changed. From inarticulate sounds, they became words, fragments of an understandable language.
"My god! Sva... Sva—!"
"My god, aahhh...!"
"My God..."
In an instant, the giant stopped. The torrent of pain receded like a tide, but it was not all over.
Covered in dust after the cave partially collapsed, the giant looked confusedly towards the entrance, where the statue of the evil god stood. Then he looked up at the vast plains of ice and the sky. He seemed to be searching for something.
"My God..."
"God?"
...
"May the gods protect us!"
An anchor suddenly rose as several sailors clung to ropes to pull their bodies out of the freezing ocean.
With a loud crash, the men fell to the deck. They looked around, stunned to see that, miraculously, most of them had survived the shipwreck. All, except one.
"Where is Chastek?" asked one of the rescued, noticing the knight's absence.
"He sank as soon as he fell into the water. That idiot was wearing a full set of armor in the sea, looking for death..."
"No one tried to save him?"
One of the sailors let out a mocking laugh. "And you tried it?"
The men fell silent, uncomfortable. They could hardly believe that they themselves had fallen into the water and that now, by an irony of fate, they had been rescued by the very people they were planning to murder on the island of An Skellig.
"Wait... This is not right." an experienced sailor suddenly said, watching carefully. "They're not Skellige people, and this isn't a merchant ship."
"There is not a single merchant on board," he continued, "and every one of them has the bearing of a warrior. If they are escorts, they are not the sort of men a merchant would pay for. They are elite soldiers, perhaps from the regular army."
"Besides, the ship's draft is too shallow. There's no cargo worth carrying here..."
The sailor did not finish his sentence. A calloused hand covered his mouth to stop him from speaking any further.
The cold on board seemed to intensify. The men shivered, not from the dampness of their clothes, but from the growing fear they felt.
The 'merchant ship guards' who had rescued them watched them with stern expressions. Suddenly, the crowd parted, and a robust man, dressed in leather armor and helmet, emerged among them.
The sailors of the Arc Coast held their breath as they recognized the emblem on his chest: a black sun.
He was an officer in the Nilfgaard army.
The officer raised his arm, and several soldiers came forward to restrain the castaways. They were forced to kneel, with their hands behind their heads, like prisoners about to be executed.
Fear made the sailors tremble even more.
The officer spoke in a slow, but threatening voice. "I intended to capture a local to ask him some questions. But you seem remarkably united... and surprisingly resilient. Even though you don't look like islanders, I now have more options."
"Listen carefully: I only need one person. I will ask my question only once..."
Before he could finish, the sailor who had spoken earlier interjected, stuttering in sheer terror, "Sir, we are sailors from the Duchy of Arcsea! We came on the orders of our lady to eliminate a traitor. We have already conducted a thorough investigation there and we are definitely enough to serve as guides."
He looked around cautiously. "It seems that he doesn't have many men. If he needs fighters, we can take up arms and fight on the front lines."
The Nilfgaardian officer was silent for a moment, shocked by the man's impudence. A mocking smile appeared on his face.
The sailor grinned.
In the blink of an eye, a soldier's sword swung down. The sailor's head rolled to the ground, his body still in the same position.
The officer shook his head in disapproval and spoke again, just as calmly as before. "Listen carefully: I only need one person. I will ask my question only once..."
...
An Skellig, Castle of Clan Tuirseach.
In the resting room that Eist had prepared for Lann and his companions, Lann was removing his armor.
The most important event in Skellige in this time period would soon begin: the coronation ceremony of Eist.
With the mission of supporting Eist already accomplished, Lann enjoyed a brief respite. Before the celebration began, he decided to take advantage of the moment to occupy himself with something.
He sat down, opened the Griffin School Contact Notebook, and began to write:
"Dear Master, I write to you with the greatest respect:
It has been a while since we last heard from each other, and I miss you very much. Since I left Kaer Seren, I went to the Wolf School stronghold in Kaer Morhen. There I met Coën, a veteran of our school. He and I got along well and talked a lot about the future of the school. However, I can't help but feel that the responsibility on my shoulders is immense. I also spoke with Vesemir, the current mentor of the Wolf School, and we came to an agreement: the entire Wolf School plans to move to Cintra soon."
"I'm currently in Skellige, where I've been fortunate enough to meet a fellow Bear School member named Gerd. He's very different from what one would expect from his school, much like the quirky Kiyan from the Cat School. Gerd is emotionally rich, incredibly strong, and possesses the ability to hunt dragons alone. Though of course, his prey was a green dragon."
"At the same time, I discovered a succubus on Skellige who had arrived on the continent with the first Conjunction of the Spheres. She revealed something disturbing to me: the Conjunction of the Spheres that occurred fifteen hundred years ago is about to repeat itself."
"In previous letters I have already mentioned to you how many monsters that were lying dormant have begun to awaken and become active, such as the Ice Giant of Skellige. Now we finally know the cause. And not only that, new creatures will soon begin to appear. This will be a catastrophe more terrifying than war. I only hope that I can guide Cintra through this impending crisis, and that the newly reborn order of witchers can protect the continent's civilians as much as possible..."
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