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TWL Chapter 333: Of Monsters, Magic, and Mahakam
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 15:04:47 +0000 UTCThe blood-soaked bait, laced with alchemical herbs, was soon scattered throughout the thickest parts of the black pine forest. The sharp, pungent scent of fresh blood began to spread.
Hidden among the underbrush, Geralt reassessed their strategy. If Lann were here, he’d take the easy route—using a low-intensity Aard sign to stir up the air and spread the scent faster.
Unfortunately, Geralt didn’t have that kind of magical reserve.
Luckily, the mountain winds didn’t let him down. He’d studied the terrain beforehand.
After nearly two hours of waiting, a strong gust finally swept through the trees, carrying the scent far and wide. Another half-hour later, distant, raspy screeches filled the air.
More than twenty harpies circled above, scanning the black forest below as they searched for the source of the alluring scent.
That was close enough.
Kuba grinned. “Alright, time for us to take over.”
Geralt nodded in agreement. In a direct fight, a single witcher wasn’t as effective as a group of disciplined, well-organized dwarves.
What followed was a textbook strategy for dealing with airborne threats. First came the volley of arrows, knocking harpies from the sky. Then, the ground forces moved in, systematically eliminating them in teams of ten.
Geralt weaved through the battlefield, playing cleanup—patching gaps in the formation, pulling dwarves out of danger, and using the Aard Sign to knock harpies out of their dive attacks.
Finally, the last surviving harpy tried to flee, flapping higher in a desperate escape. But before it could get away, an arrow struck it clean through the chest, sending it plummeting to the ground.
The ambush was a complete success.
The dwarven hunters moved through the battlefield, making sure any harpies still clinging to life didn’t get a second chance. They also collected valuable monster materials—some small compensation for the damage the creatures had caused.
Kuba did a quick headcount, checking for casualties. Finding none, his grin stretched even wider.
“Incredible, Geralt! We actually got through this without a single injury!” He clapped the witcher’s leg with enthusiasm. “All thanks to you! Honestly, I wish we had a few witchers in the clan.”
Geralt simply shook his head, dodging the comment. “We might not have wiped out their entire nest, but we took out at least two-thirds of them. Now we can send a team up the mountain. I have plenty of bombs—enough to destroy their nest for good.”
Kuba opened his mouth to agree but suddenly hesitated, his expression shifting.
For someone like Kuba, who wore his emotions written all over his face, that kind of hesitation was impossible to ignore.
Geralt’s feline eyes narrowed slightly.
He studied Kuba’s face, then glanced at the other dwarves, still coming down from the fight. Finally, he spoke in a calm, measured tone. “Kuba… is there something you’re not telling me?”
Kuba hesitated, then sighed. “Well… Geralt, the thing is… we don’t actually have to go up there.” He rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. “See, there’s this Mahakam tradition… during a purge like this, we don’t wipe everything out. We leave a few monsters behind—just enough to maintain, uh… ecological balance. Yeah. Balance.”
“In any case,” Kuba said quickly, “this cleanup is done. How about we head back, rest up, and check on the scouting teams? See what other areas need clearing?”
Geralt studied him for a long moment. Then, he smirked slightly. “Of course,” he said. “I’m just here to help. How much I help… and in what way… is entirely up to you.”
...
At Davor Pond, Lann extended his left hand toward the artificial lake’s dam, his fingers slowly spreading.
Not far from him, about ten paces away, Tomor Fuchs stood wide-eyed, stroking his beard, his face full of anticipation and curiosity.
…
When the idea of blowing up the dam was first proposed, Lann had his doubts.
"If we destroy this dam, won't it flood the entire Davor region?" he asked seriously. “Tomor, you’re not planning to use this as an excuse to wipe out the Zigrin clan, are you?”
Instead of getting angry at Lann’s suspicion, Tomor simply fell into deep thought. “Huh… I never considered that. But now that you mention it, if something unexpected were to happen, it might actually lead to that outcome… You've got a good brain up there, though that would be a good ending...”
Lann raised an eyebrow.
But before he could respond, Tomor snapped out of his daydream and laughed heartily. “Relax. If things really went that far, you Cintrans could just walk away. But us Fuchs? We’d be stuck here. Every clan in Mahakam would come knocking, and they’d only bring hammers and shields to the discussion.”
Taking a few quick steps forward, Tomor proudly patted the dam and declared, “When we designed this structure, we accounted for the possibility of accidents. It was built with special engineering to prevent a small breach from turning into a catastrophic collapse.”
He stroked his beard again, looking thoughtful. "If I had to put it in the terms you humans use... I suppose you'd call it structural mechanics. I forgot you're from Cintra. I don't know if that means anything to you. I wish you were from Oxenfurt..."
Cintra’s education system isn’t that bad, is it?
Lann’s mouth twitched. Being looked down on by a dwarf for his academic knowledge felt absurd. “I might not be an expert in dwarven engineering, but are you seriously implying I wouldn’t even understand the name of the field?”
Tomor immediately laughed, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.
To be fair, dwarves possessed architectural techniques vastly different—often more advanced—than those of humans. The very existence of Mount Carbon, a city carved into the heart of a mountain, was proof of that. The Davor Pond dam was another example. Its construction had not only accounted for potential damage but had also included plans for future reconstruction.
“We just never thought we’d be the ones destroying it ourselves,” Tomor muttered wistfully.
Lann nodded and moved on to his next question. “Since you already have a solid plan, what do you need us for?”
After all, Tomor was entrusting half of his able-bodied warriors to Cintra. But from the sound of it, his plan didn’t seem to require much effort on Lann’s part. That felt… suspicious.
Sure enough, Tomor quickly revealed the catch. “We plan to use mining explosives to breach the dam. But our storage bunker—where we keep those explosives—has been overrun by shaelmaars.”
He sighed. “Right now, our young warriors are busy keeping other monsters from interfering with our plans. They’re also digging new channels to control the floodwaters and prevent chaos downstream. We simply don’t have the manpower to spare. That’s where you come in. I need you to recover those explosives for us.”
A reasonable request. But instead of agreeing immediately, Lann patted the dam thoughtfully.
“…Maybe we don’t need explosives at all,” he murmured. “Focus all your manpower on excavation. Make sure the diverted river flow will achieve our goal. Leave the rest to me.”
…
Two days later.
With thousands of dwarves working around the clock, the results were impressive. A huge diversion channel, wide and deep enough to function as a moat, extended from Davor Pond to Davor Abyss.
Several smaller drainage tunnels branched off from the main channel, temporarily sealed to help control the flood’s path and strength. These would also make refilling the dam much easier in the future.
Now, standing before the dam, Lann placed his left hand against the stone, took a deep breath, and began channeling his magic.
In the revised plan he had crafted for the Fuchs clan, he himself would serve as the 'explosive'.
From the side, Tomor watched with a mix of anticipation and skepticism.
“I know the great sages of the Aen Seidhe can summon storms, reshape landscapes… but Duke Lannister, you’re not even twenty years old yet, are you?” His tone was polite, but the implication was clear—at that age, most magic apprentices were only just beginning to grasp theoretical knowledge, let alone wield the raw power of chaos.
"My boys have already finished digging the channels. If necessary, we can still gather a team to take back the explosives storage now."
Lann didn’t respond. Instead, the next second, he answered with a sign formed in his palm.
[Igni Sign - Pyromaniac]
