[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]
Third Person POV
Kaer Morhen.
...
...
"Hope you're right, witcher. I stayed up all night for you to assess the situation. You better not fail tonight, because if I wake up injured again, I'll have you beheaded. Do you understand?"
King Henselt spoke furiously to Vesemir, who stood with his arms crossed, analyzing the room. The king had indeed stayed awake all night, following Vesemir's suggestion to test whether something would attack him again.
In the end, a few hours had passed since Vesemir had been imprisoned the afternoon of the previous day when he arrived at the castle. The royal guards had come to his cell to inform him that the king had requested another audience.
Henselt, despite his fury over losing a royal guard, three knights, and dozens of soldiers between the first attack on Kaer Morhen and the second, had to relent. After all, his life and well-being were far more important than his subjects or even his hatred for non-humans.
As part of the agreement, Vesemir demanded several conditions: Coen was to be exempt from any charges, as were all the other witchers, and the king was to forget everything that had happened at Kaer Morhen. Moreover, the witchers were not to suffer retaliation or face restrictions in traveling through the country.
In the end, Henselt concluded that this was the best solution, provided the witcher resolved his situation.
"I hope you follow through on this, witcher..."
Vesemir accepted the terms, knowing it was the only way to avoid further conflict. Still, he hoped the king would keep his word.
"I'll do my best." Vesemir responded, as the king remained irritated.
Meanwhile, Vesemir continued searching the room, even though he found nothing there, knowing full well it was all a scheme by Madara. Even so, he did his job—or at least made it seem that way to everyone.
"There's a spirit here... and you've been cursed." He concluded at last.
"Who would curse me?! It was that witcher I imprisoned, wasn't it?" the king immediately exclaimed, suspicious.
Vesemir merely shook his head.
"Witchers don't cast curses, Your Majesty. We don't even have that ability. Aside from a few signs and the manipulation of chaos, that is not one of our skills. You can confirm this with anyone on this continent. No witcher is capable of casting curses, let alone from within a prison."
Henselt clenched his teeth upon hearing this, still distrustful. His mood was far from good. He had spent another sleepless night.
Even exhausted, it was still better than being beaten. The fatigue, however, was accumulating, as this was already the third night he had stayed awake, taking only brief ten-minute naps to avoid suffering. Even so, anyone would be at the peak of stress under these conditions.
Regardless, Vesemir continued his work throughout the rest of the day, inspecting the castle. When he was finished, he returned to the throne room, where the king was resuming his audiences.
"So, everything is prepared for the matters in the West? Well... at least that's some good news." Henselt commented, speaking with one of his officers.
Vesemir didn't know exactly what they were discussing, but he didn't care. His job there was different.
The king then turned to him, still in a foul mood.
"You're here again, witcher. I hope you bring me answers."
Vesemir remained impassive at the comment. Beside him, a royal guard watched him carefully. The king wanted to ensure someone was keeping an eye on him at all times.
"Yes, I'm prepared to face it here in this place. I'd like you to sleep in this very throne room, as it's a good space for confrontation." Vesemir said while the king pondered for a moment.
"Fine, we'll do it your way, witcher." He spoke, already tired of threatening the witcher every time they spoke. He said nothing more after that.
The rest of the day passed, and night fell. Meanwhile, the queen was with the heir to the throne, Djevan, speaking with King Henselt.
Tonight, at last, they would face the monster.
There were already two sorcerers who were part of the court, along with four others summoned from Aretuza and other places, called upon by Sheala. Some of them were interested in studying the creature, fascinated by such knowledge.
"Listen, witcher. If my father dies tonight, I swear I'll hunt down every last one of you."
The heir suddenly spoke in a threatening tone to Vesemir.
"Your father makes that very clear." Vesemir replied, his tone weary.
These guys only knew how to threaten him all the time. It was irritating. That was why he hated dealing with nobles and, especially, with royal families.
"Well, let's get ready." Vesemir said at last, while the king already had a special chair prepared for him.
There were royal guards, sorcerers to protect the king, and even scholars present, eager to witness the creature.
Vesemir paid little attention to them as he prepared himself. Grabbing his potions and readying his silver sword, many watched him with surprised and even disgusted expressions. His eyes began turning black, and dark veins appeared on his face after consuming some of his potions.
Madara, meanwhile, was finally making his way toward the castle, entering the city, as he would have to release the ghost.
The king looked tiredly at the witcher and nodded, wanting to curse him one more time, but exhaustion quickly overtook him, and he fell asleep.
Everything seemed silent now as everyone awaited the creature's appearance.
Time began to pass. It was already the early hours of the morning, two hours after the king had fallen asleep, and still, there was no sign of the monster. The people there were growing impatient, some even nearly dozing off.
"Hey, witcher, is this going to take long?" A royal guard murmured, bored.
Vesemir quickly raised his hand, signaling for silence.
"It's coming." He said.
At that very moment, Madara, hidden, began executing his plan. In silence, he summoned the creature from the scroll.
As soon as the summoning was complete, an explosion echoed through the castle, drawing everyone's attention.
The next moment, the doors to the hall began to open. Guards rushed in, desperate, before trying to shut them.
"What's going on here?" One of the royal guards shouted, furious.
"The monster! It's coming!" The guards replied, struggling to hold the door shut.
Suddenly, the doors burst open violently. The guards were thrown backward as a malevolent presence filled the hall.
A five-meter-tall creature emerged, draped in a white veil. Its face was completely deformed, and its eyes glowed with a spectral green hue.
Everyone froze at that moment before the creature simply let out an ear-piercing scream.
The sound was so intense that all the glass in the throne room shattered, echoing throughout the castle. Even the king woke up in terror, his eyes widening in pure fear as his face turned pale.
"Quick, kill it!" He screamed before he began running away.
His men quickly followed him. Everyone was fleeing desperately, even one of the sorcerers and the scholars who, once fascinated by the creature, were now screaming in fear.
Only a few remained, along with Vesemir, who swallowed hard at the sight.
"Did you really have to bring something this big here?" He thought, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief.
Madara had chosen to summon something far more powerful than a simple ghost.
Even so, Vesemir stood his ground as he prepared his silver sword. Quickly, he made a sign on the ground, creating a circle to contain the creature.
As soon as the creature stepped past the Yrden sign's area, it lunged at Vesemir. The witcher was the first to face it head-on, dodging as fast as he could.
Madara watched everything from outside the castle, looking through the window. He saw Vesemir begin to fight the creature and believed he could handle it. If intervention was necessary, he would act.
Explosions began erupting in the hall. The mages, who had previously retreated, now decided to fight, casting spells. Vesemir faced the creature directly, evading its attacks. However, the creature would vanish and reappear in another corner of the throne room, moving in a supernatural manner.
The mages kept casting spells, but to their despair, all their attacks passed through the creature without causing any damage.
Irritated, the creature lunged at one of the sorcerers.
The man barely had time to react before his head was severed with a single strike.
Everyone was shocked to see the sorcerer's body collapse to the ground.
"Wait for it to enter the circle before attacking!" Vesemir exclaimed.
Quickly, he began creating a new sign circle on the ground. Then, he grabbed his crossbow and fired a bolt directly at the creature's head. The projectile passed through its deformed skull without causing any harm, only further enraging the monster, which turned toward Vesemir and charged with a terrifying scream.
The battle lasted about three hours.
Finally, Vesemir found an opening and drove his sword into the creature's chest, where its heart should have been.
The creature let out a high-pitched shriek, its spectral form beginning to unravel. Its body dissolved into a greenish glow before collapsing to the ground as luminous dust.
By the end of the battle, two mages and six guards had been killed. Vesemir, severely wounded, fell to his knees, breathing heavily.
The hall doors burst open. Guards rushed in, followed by the king, who observed the scene with satisfaction. His gaze swept over the remains of the creature, now reduced to dust.
"Finally! This is great!" He exclaimed, relieved.
"They interrupted all my audiences... Tonight, I will do nothing but sleep!"
Then, his eyes fell on Vesemir, still kneeling and exhausted.
"Take the witcher to the dungeon." He ordered, pleased.
"The witcher needs treatment, my lord." A royal guard said.
"Who cares? Just throw him into the dungeons. I'll deal with him after I get some sleep." The king replied, showing no concern for whether Vesemir would survive or not.
Vesemir could do nothing as he was carried away, still resentful toward Madara for bringing that kind of creature here.
The king wasted no time and went straight to his bed, surrounded by heavy guards. He cared little for the people who had died that night. To him, everyone should obey him. If they had to die for him, so be it. After all, he was the king.
Madara landed in the prison as soon as the sun rose, observing Vesemir, who was still exhausted, his arm bleeding, and one of his legs injured. His eyes remained dark as the potion's effects had yet to wear off.
"How are you?" Madara asked.
Vesemir looked at him and sighed.
"What do you think? That damn king is beyond irritating." He grumbled.
"Yeah, it seems he can't be trusted too well. Either way, I'll handle things from here. You just rest and use this."
Madara tossed a bag containing medicine and first-aid supplies to Vesemir.
"The guards might find this suspicious." Vesemir commented as he took the items.
"Don't worry about that. I've already convinced them." Madara replied before vanishing.
The old witcher just sighed, exhausted.
The day passed, and the king never left his bed. He slept until late into the night, finally feeling great relief as he realized that, for the first time in a long while, he felt no pain.
However, as soon as he opened his eyes, he noticed something strange.
He was no longer in his castle.
Henselt looked around, alarmed, realizing he was in a completely different place.
In the middle of the night, he had been taken somewhere in Ard Carraigh.
Now, Madara would deal with him... and he would not alter his memories. On the contrary, he would make sure the king never forgot what was about to happen.
-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------
Chapter 193 - The Chaos Between Humans and Non-Humans 01.
Chapter 198 - That Sorceress Appears in Kaedwen.
Chapter 208 - Escaping from the Dragons.
Chapter 217 - Dragons vs Wild Hunt.
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