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TWL Chapter 383: Steel, Fire, and Amber Eyes
🕑 Added 2025-05-16 01:41:16 +0000 UTC“Are all Skelligers... like that?” Julia murmured in disbelief.
The druid simply smiled and said nothing.
The warship soon closed the distance to the transport ship where the officers stood. From this range, they could clearly see two flags flying from its lookout tower—one bore the indigo dragon-head sigil of the Tuirseach clan of the Isles, and the other the blue banner with three lions of Cintra.
After a short exchange using flag signals, the warship pulled alongside and two men boarded.
One of them immediately stole the attention of everyone on deck. It was the same man who had single-handedly felled most of the harpies. He wore his hair in the traditional islander style and donned studded leather armor. His muscular arms were bare, a roaring bear-head pendant rested on his chest, and two swords were strapped to his back.
He had the build of a bear, the aura of a bear—and without doubt, the strength of one. The kind of man you could instantly recognize as a warrior.
The only oddity was his amber-colored eyes.
“Gerd,” the druid said, grinning as he spread his arms wide. Like a warrior, he embraced the man heartily.
“I didn’t expect Duke Lannister to send you to pick me up. Are we working together from now on?”
As always, once you got to know them, no one disliked the islanders—especially not Gerd. But seeing the druid greet him so warmly left the Free Company officers visibly unsettled.
That was a druid. And that... was a witcher.
At that moment, the second man who had come aboard spoke up.
“Good morning, gentlemen. This is Gerd, captain of our ‘Seaborne Guerrilla Unit.’ I’m Bill, his second-in-command. We’re under orders from His Grace, Duke Lannister, to receive you—he’s been expecting your arrival.”
Commander Adam studied the sailor who had just spoken. His build was balanced—not tall or thin—with deeply tanned skin. He had the standard physique of a sailor, unremarkable except perhaps for his decently proportioned features.
Compared to the man beside him, who looked like a walking bear, this second-in-command was clearly lacking—he didn’t seem like someone who could handle himself in a fight.
Still, as a deputy, he was likely in charge of navigation or similar tasks. Or perhaps he had simply been sent by higher-ups to keep an eye on the witcher.
“Then please, lead the way. We’ve been looking forward to meeting the Duke for quite some time.”
...
Cintra, the Lord's Mansion, Study Room
Lann watched the four officers of the Free Company standing before him, recalling what he knew about them.
In the original timeline, only two had made a real mark in history: their commander, Adam, and the female officer nicknamed 'Pretty Kitty', Julia.
Adam had earned his title—'Adieu'—for his fierce combat style and precise battlefield command.
Julia, at first known for her striking appearance, had later gained fame for leading the Free Company alongside dwarven volunteers to hold off Nilfgaard’s heavy cavalry—a feat that quickly made her a legend.
Though foreign mercenaries, they distinguished themselves through extraordinary valor and ultimately participated in the victory celebrations following the North’s triumph. They received cheers no lesser than those reserved for kings—a formidable supporting force.
“We are deeply grateful that you have granted us our freedom, Duke Lannister,” Commander Adam said first, bowing slightly.
“It was His Majesty Esterad Thyssen who granted you freedom,” Lann replied with a shake of his head. “I’m merely the price of that freedom. Only if you pass this trial will it truly be yours.”
Lann didn’t mince words. He spared them the empty politeness and formalities reserved for dealing with kings. These were professional soldiers—and they responded well to straight talk. His directness actually seemed to put them more at ease.
“You are going to fight on my land, for me—and I won’t treat you unfairly. I know you’ve come in the form of a mercenary company, so I’ll provide you with proper compensation. When the battle ends, that money can help you, now free from prison, seek a new life—or, based on merit, you may find a place here in Cintra.”
“Cintra welcomes all who share our ideals.”
“However—”
Lann shifted the tone of his voice. He knew full well that the Free Company—made up of political prisoners, war criminals, and outcasts—was not to be blindly trusted. It was better to set the rules clearly from the start, before any trouble broke out later.
But before he could finish, a sudden burst of noise erupted from outside the window—chaotic and jarring, instantly grating on the nerves.
“Your Grace.”
A voice called from outside the door. After receiving permission, House stepped in.
He shot a sharp glance at the Free Company officers—who were already beginning to look uneasy, as if realizing what had happened—and bowed to Lann with a report:
“My lord, the Kovir mercenaries have gotten into a fight with our men.”
The Kovirans had barely arrived and were already causing trouble?
House’s report caused the expressions of the four officers from the Free Company to shift immediately—they all tensed up.
But Lann remained utterly unconcerned and waved a hand dismissively. “No need to worry. I trust they’ll handle things on their own.”
Then, completely ignoring the four officers’ growing discomfort, he calmly continued: “You missed our previous operations briefing, so you’re probably still unclear on our overarching strategic plan. That’ll be explained in detail once you’re assigned to your respective units. For now, I’ll give you a brief overview. The four of you will be split up and assigned to guerrilla units—”
“W-Wait a moment, Duke Lannister!” the bearded Lorenzo suddenly interjected, unable to bear the tension any longer. “Are you saying you’re breaking up our unit and sending us into guerrilla warfare?”
Lann’s words were abruptly cut off. House’s expression darkened at once. His arm shifted, his hand resting on the lion-headed longsword at his waist.
Lann raised a hand to signal House to remain calm, then looked up. Those emotionless lion eyes locked squarely onto Lorenzo.
It didn’t even take two full breaths before Lorenzo was forced to avert his gaze. In that moment, he felt like prey being stared down by a lion.
Under the stern gaze of their commander, Adam, Lorenzo had no choice but to apologize. “…Forgive my rudeness, Duke Lannister.”
Lann kept his gaze fixed on Lorenzo. Only when the other three officers began shifting uncomfortably and looked ready to step in did he finally speak again, his tone unhurried: “As far as I know, the Free Company doesn’t have a ‘unit structure’ to speak of. Your soldiers are freshly released convicts, with no unified military training. There’s no time to slowly nurture their coordination with my troops. Assigning them to the guerrilla forces is the most reasonable course.”
“Throwing you straight into the frontlines would result in needless casualties. The guerrilla units will help you acclimate to the battlefield and refine your coordination—that’s my way of showing respect and care for friends who’ve come a long way.”
With those words, Lann finally lowered his gaze and turned his attention back to the documents on the table. The oppressive pressure bearing down on the Free Company officers seemed to vanish in an instant. The bearded Lorenzo even began to gasp for breath.
The female officer, Julia, exchanged a glance with Commander Adam. In the rumors back in Kovir, Duke Lannister had always been portrayed as a 'knight stepped out of poetry'. But now, seeing him in person, his presence had clearly long surpassed that of a mere knight.
He even reminded them of king Esterad Thyssen.
“Thank you for your understanding regarding the unique nature of our unit, Duke Lannister,” Commander Adam said, lowering his head respectfully.
Lann gave a faint, noncommittal chuckle. “Our guerrilla forces are currently divided into three groups: one forest unit and one town unit in southern Cintra, and a naval unit operating on the Yaruga River. Once you’re split up, you’ll be assigned to—”
“D-Duke Lannister,” Lorenzo interrupted him again, still the same bearded officer. “Our Kovirans are criminals—defiant and unruly. About breaking up our unit…”
[Clang!]
House had had enough. He stepped forward in a flash, his lion-headed longsword slicing through the air in a swift arc.
Lorenzo had the combat instincts worthy of someone who’d risen to officer rank among a mercenary company formed from convicts. He’d already been wary the moment House’s hand touched the hilt, and now, he managed to raise his sword just in time to block the strike.
To his credit, he didn’t draw the blade—he kept it sheathed, merely using it to force House back.
The other three officers immediately backed away. This was definitely not the moment to intervene. In fact, they silently welcomed the idea of this 'companion' of theirs—still too steeped in the bad habits of prison life—getting taught a lesson.
They figured that a seasoned warrior like him wouldn’t suffer too much, and surely Duke Lannister, with enemies still at the gates, wouldn’t go too far against his own reinforcements.
