TitoVillar
patreon
TWL Chapter 335: The Storm Before the Storm
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 15:06:03 +0000 UTCA raging blizzard roared from Lann’s left palm, its fury akin to the howl of a dragon.
Through the cavern’s entrance, a swarm of many-legged arthropods scurried forward in a panicked frenzy.
The dwarves immediately recognized them and shouted in alarm, "Kikimore!"
All of the Kikimores had been frozen, their lives suspended the moment they emerged from the tunnel.
Lann, seeing Kikimore for the first time, studied them for a moment with curiosity. Then, he turned to acknowledge his soldiers, who were already calling out to him.
"Your Grace!"
Lann gave them a nod. "Good work, soldiers."
"For Cintra! For Lannister! For our Duke!"
He smiled faintly and issued his next order. "Once the battle is over, collect any valuable materials from these creatures. I used frost instead of fire for this reason. But remember—your safety comes first. You are Cintra’s most valuable asset."
"Yes, Your Grace!"
Lann also nodded to the dwarven commander before vanishing into an emerald glow once again.
The dwarf leader glanced at his battle-worn axe, then at the grotesque, ice-encased monsters, and finally at the Cintran cavalry, who stood brimming with morale and battle fervor. A strange realization dawned on him—perhaps his people weren’t as indispensable as he had thought.
…
Dwarves had been stationed at every exit of Davor’s Abyss, and each squad was accompanied by Cintran soldiers. Using their locations as reference points, Lann teleported across the battlefield, ensuring he covered every corner. In doing so, he demonstrated his prowess to the Fuchs Clan, leaving a lasting impression.
Many of these dwarves were unaware that half of them would soon relocate to Cintra to fight for its cause. But by witnessing Lann’s overwhelming power firsthand, a seed had been planted in their minds. When Tomor eventually announced the selection of warriors, resistance would be minimal.
In fact, many of these short-statured, bearded warriors would likely volunteer eagerly.
With one final teleport, Lann returned to the banks of Davor’s Pond. The flooded mine was now a vast, murky lake, while the artificial reservoir behind the dam had nearly dried up.
Standing before the breached dam he had created, Lann raised his hand once more.
[Aard Sign - Piercing Cold - Magic Burst!]
Chief Tomor had remained at the site, anxiously awaiting Lann’s return. Now, just as he had during their first encounter, he watched with wide-eyed anticipation as the Cintran duke unleashed a sustained blizzard from his left palm. For several dozen breaths, the storm howled through the air, sealing the dam’s breach with a thick slab of ice, finally halting the flood’s relentless advance.
Lann exhaled, inspecting his handiwork. "This should hold for now. It’ll make repairs easier for the Fuchs Clan."
Tomor nodded vigorously. Lann had already done more than they could have asked for—what more could he say?
Lann added, "But Mahakam’s spring is in full swing. My Sign may not hold indefinitely, so you should begin reconstruction as soon as possible."
"No worries," Tomor assured him, thumping his chest like a war drum. "No one knows Mahakam’s weather better than us. Your magic should last at least a week—more than enough time for the flood to recede so we can recover what’s left inside."
The Fuchs Clan’s migration required them to gather all their belongings. When the mine was overrun, they had lost more than just their explosives warehouse—raw ores, mining tools, and unprocessed materials remained buried underground.
Once the waters withdrew, they could salvage whatever remained, ensuring they had enough resources to lay the foundation for their new home.
"Once everything is accounted for, we'll rebuild the dam together to prevent any lingering damage we might have caused. After that, we'll begin the full migration to Boros Rump," said the Fuchs Clan Chief, shaking his head. "Originally, we planned to take over a month to complete the transition. If those Zigrin folks got involved, it would take even longer."
"Fortunately, we had your help, Duke Lannister," Tomor said sincerely.
Lann gave a slight nod, acknowledging the gratitude, but quickly steered the conversation back to the main topic. "How long will your preparations take? In other words—when can I expect the promised soldiers?"
"At the earliest? Seven days," Tomor replied without hesitation, his tone firm. "By then, those slow-moving Zigrin lots will still be finishing their cleanup. You’ll still be around, so it won’t mess up your schedule."
"Rebuilding the dam doesn’t require that many young men. When the time comes, I'll gather everyone, and you can take your pick. The ones fit for battle will be the best of the best!"
Lann nodded in satisfaction and glanced at the dam. "Anything else you need my help with?"
Tomor let out a hearty laugh, first expressing his gratitude once again before waving off the offer. "You've already done more than enough for us. If we still needed you to babysit us after all this, we’d be a disgrace to ourselves!"
…
With matters settled on the Fuchs side, Lann decided to check on the Zigrin Clan and see how their 'cleanup' was progressing.
Since the flooding had destroyed their underground dwellings, the Fuchs dwarves had no choice but to live in tents, making it impractical for them to host Lann and his entourage. Tomor, wearing an apologetic expression, watched as they prepared to depart for Zigrin territory.
However, Tomor was a man of principle. Sending Lann away so soon after receiving his help felt dishonorable—even ungrateful—especially while they still owed him a debt.
To make amends, he assigned Petrit to accompany Lann as a liaison, ensuring that if Lann needed to contact the Fuchs Clan in the future, he wouldn’t be left in the dark.
"Petrit served in Mount Carbon before," Tomor said proudly. "He held the rank of captain at his highest. But he didn’t want to stay there, so he returned to mining. He’s one of our clan’s best warriors, and when we send our fighters to Cintra, he’ll be leading them."
Lann nodded. He had seen Petrit in action during the previous battle—this was indeed a warrior worth trusting.
"And," Tomor added, "Petrit is also our clan’s diplomat. I promised to help you contact the Ferenc Clan and call in some favors for additional reinforcements. I haven’t forgotten."
"Leave it to me, Duke Lannister!" Petrit declared boldly. His gaze was filled with admiration as he looked at Lann, having witnessed the Lion’s prowess multiple times. "I’ve always been the one handling talks with the Ferenc Clan. Once we’re done with things at Zigrin, I’ll take you there myself!"
Lann stroked his chin thoughtfully. He had already sent a squad to the Ferenc dwarves, but he wasn’t sure how things were progressing there. If they could secure even more reinforcements, all the better.
"I look forward to it," Lann said with a smile.
…
As Petrit followed Lann into Zigrin territory, the presence of the renowned warrior did not go unnoticed. The Zigrin dwarves, longtime rivals of the Fuchs, immediately recognized him.
However, given that he was accompanying Lann, they kept their opinions to themselves, merely averting their gazes in silence.
Lann frowned slightly. There were even more warriors stationed here than the last time he visited. It seemed as if Zigrin had recalled every hunter and miner they had sent out.
Had they just finished a massive hunt? Unlikely. His own efforts at Fuchs had allowed for a swift resolution. The monsters around Zigrin’s territory were scattered and wouldn’t have been wiped out this quickly.
Were they preparing for a full-scale assault on the remaining monsters?
"Lann, something’s not right." Geralt’s first words upon seeing him carried an unmistakable air of seriousness.
"I’ve been out hunting monsters with the Zigrin warriors, but their behavior has been… strange," Geralt said, frowning. "Every time, they either leave about a third of the creatures in a nest alive or spare roughly a third of the nests in an area."
"In other words, they’re deliberately leaving some of the monsters untouched—even when we could easily wipe them out completely."
Inside the large tent, Lann listened intently, his expression contemplative. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows on the canvas, but they were nothing compared to the unease creeping into the White Wolf’s heart.
"When I tried to finish off those nests myself, Luka Zigrin stopped me multiple times, rambling about ‘natural balance’ and the ‘food chain,’" Geralt said, sounding almost amused by the absurdity. "He’s a capable warrior, but a terrible liar. He hesitated, stumbled over his words—he didn’t even believe what he was saying."
"So, you’re saying their ‘cleanup’ is already done?"
Geralt nodded. "It ended yesterday. I've been waiting for you to return."
"But the warriors here are gathering in greater numbers instead of dispersing. This doesn't look like the aftermath of a cleanup—it looks like they're preparing for war." Lann sighed.
"I asked Kuba about it. According to him, they're setting up outposts nearby to prevent the cleared areas from being reoccupied." Geralt let out a cold laugh. "But that explanation contradicts the way they stopped me from wiping out the monsters completely."
"I have a bold theory, Lann."
Lann exhaled heavily. "So do I."
