Gazing at the corpse of the ice troll, Lann let out a soft sigh.
From the tactics employed by these trolls against the soldiers, it was clear that without a specific strategy, these creatures could move freely even when facing an army ten times their number. If it weren't for the witchers' intervention, these five trolls would have wreaked havoc on the group, especially in such tricky terrain as the mines. In the worst case scenario, the soldiers would have failed to completely eliminate them, allowing them to escape.
Although Cintra already had the well-known rock troll family in its ranks, Lann had always thought that the more high-level combat units he had, the better.
Unfortunately, these ice trolls had crossed the line by committing unforgivable atrocities. There was no other option but to turn them into alchemical materials. In the process, he would take the opportunity to replenish his inventory of alchemical potions.
Truth be told, though Lann was a passionate collector of magical potions and decoctions, he rarely used them in combat. So far, he had only resorted to them on two occasions: the first, when facing an Archgriffin as a common human, and the second, during the hunt for the cyclops Old Speartip at Kaer Morhen.
After touching the corpse, Lann placed it in his inventory and turned his gaze towards the center of the mine hall, where a huge furnace-shaped cauldron dominated the place, emanating a disturbing and strange aroma.
Some approached the cauldron, but their steps were unsteady.
Although they had defeated the ice trolls without any casualties, no one showed any signs of joy.
Since everyone shared the same thought: Was it possible that the person they had come to rescue, the leader of the Tordarroch clan, had ended up turned into soup inside that cauldron?
Eist seemed to have come to the same conclusion. His expression was grim as never before. For a Skelliger, the idea of one of the jarls of the seven clans dying in such a humiliating manner was unacceptable.
This also meant that their mission had been an utter failure.
Even an experienced witcher would hesitate to approach the cauldron. However, Eist, holding to the principle of seeing the body, dead or alive, ordered his men to investigate the cauldron's contents. If Harald was not inside, they could at least retrieve the Skelligers' remains and give them a proper burial.
Lann, after a moment's reflection, approached the ice troll that had been poisoned by Kolgrim. To his surprise, although it appeared to be dead, it was still breathing weakly.
'Perhaps this troll can be useful,' Lann thought, remembering some information about the Tordarroch clan from his past life.
In his previous life, he knew that the Tordarroch clan had been all but wiped out by the ice giant. In the game, they barely appeared, and Lann had never paid much attention to them. But now he remembered something: Harald had actually survived.
In the game, Harald had been captured by the Ice Giant and kept as a prisoner in strange conditions, fed mysterious meat. When the player encountered him during a quest, Harald was already mentally destroyed, talking to corpses as if they were living people.
The ice giant's purpose in capturing Harald was… to build a great ship.
However, Lann knew that his presence here had caused a butterfly effect. The Conjunction of the Spheres, triggered by the awakening of the Elder Blood, had awakened the ice giant ahead of time, altering the original events. Although the giant had captured Harald as in the original events, it was now unclear whether it wanted him to build a ship or if it simply planned to eat him.
Seeing the grim faces of Eist and the others, Lann could only hope that Harald's story would follow its original course.
"Can you bring him back to consciousness?" Lann asked Kolgrim, pointing at the dying troll.
Kolgrim looked at him, puzzled, wondering why Lann would want to temporarily revive the troll.
"I want to ask him if he knows where Harald is, if he really was thrown into the cauldron," Lann explained.
Kolgrim's eyes sparkled with excitement. "You're going to use the modified Axii Sign? I heard Gerd talk about how you hypnotized a cursed werewolf to tell everything!"
Although Kolgrim had been with the group for a long time, he had never witnessed this ability of Lann's in action.
Lann sighed and nodded.
Kolgrim, brimming with energy, took a small ceramic flask from his alchemical backpack and poured a few drops into the troll's mouth.
Nothing happened.
Kolgrim, without hesitation, emptied the entire contents of the flask directly into the dying troll's throat. Within seconds, the monster's body began to convulse.
Ice trolls possessed an astonishing regenerative ability. Even if they suffered serious injuries, they could recover quickly as long as they had time. However, this accelerated regeneration also made them vulnerable to poison, as their bodies' metabolism spread toxins very quickly.
Although the antidote could not save the troll, it did allow him to temporarily regain consciousness.
The troll's grotesque face twisted, his eyes filled with confusion slowly opening. All he could see was a hand radiating a faint white glow.
[Axii Sign - Delusion]
Perhaps due to the newly acquired talent of the succubus, the already not very intelligent ice troll in front of them soon began to show a vacant look. Lann also noticed that the consumption of her magical energy was much lower than usual, managing to hypnotize the ice troll with great ease.
Lann took a deep breath and began with the simplest question: "What is your name?"
To his surprise, the ice troll didn't respond. It just continued to stare at him with that confused expression.
Lann frowned deeply. What was going on? In his experience, at this level of hypnosis the creature should respond without problems.
The witchers who had approached exchanged glances until Geralt commented: "Maybe you're asking the wrong question."
"Asking the question wrong?" Lann repeated, puzzled.
Geralt nodded. "You should try this: You, ice troll, name?"
Lann was stunned for a moment.
As Geralt was not the one who had cast the sign, his words did not provoke any reaction from the ice troll. However, when Lann repeated the phrase, the troll's empty eyes finally moved a little. In a clumsy, halting voice, he began to speak.
"Yes... ice, no... ice troll."
Lann didn't know what to think of the current situation, but in the end, he could now communicate with the troll.
Lann continued, "Frost Giant...? No, better... Big Guy gives Ice Trolls to little humans?"
The ice troll nodded slowly. "In the morning, big guy comes back, give the ice troll little humans."
At this moment, Eist also came over, his face full of anxiety as he listened intently to the troll, hoping for good news.
Lann gave a description as detailed as possible: "Among those small humans is one with a big beard, old, and with marks on his skin?" He was describing Harald's features.
The troll nodded awkwardly. "Little humans... all bearded... with markings."
Lann clicked his tongue, irritated.
But the troll continued: "A little bearded human, Big Guy won't cook him. Bad guy, hit him with a stick, throw him back."
Eist's eyes lit up, beckoning Lann to continue asking. "Where's the little human who doesn't cook?"
The troll extended his hand, pointing to a dark passage deep within the cave.
Eist quickly ordered the main group to stay and rest, while he, Lann, and a few others headed deeper into the dark tunnel.
Their figures soon disappeared at the end of the road.
Meanwhile, the ice troll, still under the effect of the sign, collapsed on the spot with a blank look. Kolgrim's poison continued to weaken his body.
"Big guy doesn't cook little humans... he goes back to get little humans... Other little humans... he just cooks, doesn't eat... ice troll..."
Suddenly, a Tuirseach clan soldier, his eyes bloodshot, plunged his sword into the ice troll's chest. They had finished arranging the pieces of meat in the cauldron and were filled with fury.
With a final sneer, the soldier spat and stomped on the sword's handle, driving it until the tip pierced the troll's back and crashed into solid rock.
"Damn monster!" he growled, pulling the sword back.
...
The hallway was narrow and gloomy. As soon as Lann and the others entered, a putrid, acidic stench hit them hard. As they moved forward, they occasionally stepped on unspeakable things that crunched under their feet.
Large piles of bones were stacked in the corners. The hallway had no connection to the outside, and the air inside was thick and stale. Evidently, the ice trolls had turned this place into something like a warehouse, and these bones were either part of their collection or simply decoration.
In that 'warehouse' there was only one living human being.
"Harald!" Eist exclaimed in surprise and relief upon recognizing the man.
Harald, the target of their arduous search, lay on a pile of bones, like a carelessly tossed sack of potatoes.
However, his hair was matted and caked with dirt and ice chips, and his tattoos were almost gone under the thick crusts of blood that covered his skin. His condition was pitiful.
Immediately, one of the Tuirseach clan guards strode forward and lifted him up, carefully inspecting his condition. After a while, he nodded to Eist.
"He's alive," the guard confirmed.
Eist let out a sigh of relief.
Another guard, who had basic knowledge of combat first aid, began to examine Harald's body for serious injuries that might require immediate attention to avoid worsening his condition during transport.
As long as the man was breathing and not on the verge of death, he could be taken to the Druid Circle for treatment. In the worst case, Lann was always available as a last resort.
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