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TWL Chapter 311: A Pact of Blood and Vengeance
🕑 Added 2025-02-27 04:04:10 +0000 UTC"What?!"
To explain to Crach everything that had happened, Lann chose a quiet, secluded spot, making sure the jarl remained calm. However, Crach couldn't help but let out a startled cry, attracting the curious gaze of the sailors working nearby.
The truth was simply shocking. Fortunately, Crach was already an experienced and mature jarl, so he did not let out any words that could reveal the secret. Still, it took him several seconds to regain his composure and contain the avalanche of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
"I'm sorry, Lann… What you're telling me is… too unbelievable." Crach began to pace back and forth in obvious frustration. "Is Duny really Emhyr? This is…"
After a long silence, Crach turned abruptly to Lann. "Does Ciri know about this?"
Lann shook his head. “And how do I tell him? Ciri, your father is actually alive, but his identity was always a sham. Plus, he killed your mother, murdered your grandmother, and slaughtered your kingdom. So even though he is your father, we plan to kill him, and I expect you to help us do so? How do you expect me to tell him something like that?”
Not to mention a girl like Ciri, even Crach felt uncomfortable after listening to Lann.
"But... Ciri has to know sooner or later."
"I know. I'll tell him, but... I don't know how to find the right words or the right time yet." Lann looked at him seriously. "Crach, I told you all this because I want you to stop blaming yourself for Princess Pavetta's death. It wasn't your fault, but a despicable conspiracy."
Crach felt that this was the day he had felt the greatest shock in his entire life. The last time he had felt this way was when he learned that Pavetta had died at sea.
"No, Lann. You are wrong," he said suddenly, shaking his head. "Duny… Emhyr… He deceived us all. He was a monster, and I failed to see his disguise past. I opened my heart to him, I considered him a brother. I wept for him, and I blamed myself to the point of wanting to take my own life to atone for my sins."
His voice shook, not from fear, but from suppressed rage. "I failed to see his true face. That was my mistake. I delivered Pavetta into his hands. I gave him my ships and my sailors. Pavetta's death, those brave men's deaths, the years of torment I've carried on my conscience... all of that is Emhyr's fault."
Crach placed a firm hand on Lann's shoulder. "Thank you for telling me this. But I will continue to atone for my sins. I will continue to honor the Bloedgeas and protect Ciri with my life. And besides… the An Craite clan of Skellige will never forgive Nilfgaard. We will fight them to the death."
Lann opened his mouth to say something, but seeing Crach's expression, filled with fury, but also with liberating resolve, he simply remained silent.
Crach no longer carried the weight of guilt. Now, only the desire for revenge remained.
"You mentioned a sorcerer… Vilgefortz, right? You say he's the one truly responsible, that he's behind all of this. And that he's after the Elder Blood… Has he tried to attack you?"
Lann nodded. "He's allied himself with Emhyr and has already sent assassins after me more than once. But I've managed to evade each attempt. Don't worry, I have a plan for him."
Crach gritted his teeth in fury. "When you're going to kill him, make sure you tell me… his death has to be slow and painful."
The sails rose in the wind, and in the distance, a horn blew. The servants of Cintra came to remind Lann that the gifts had been delivered into the hands of the various jarls of the major clans and that the baggage was now ready.
"Have a safe journey, Lann," Crach said, releasing his shoulder and extending his hand in a solemn, determined gesture. "We'll see you soon."
Lann nodded and shook his hand firmly.
...
Brokilon City, the outskirts of the military camp
The ground was covered with vines, forming a dense and complex pattern. But, if you looked closely, you could notice that they did not grow randomly, but intertwined precisely, outlining a huge magic circle. At regular intervals, small branches sprouted, holding crystal shards at their end.
Standing in front of the circle, his gaze intent was Mousesack. This was no ordinary circle… it was a teleportation portal.
High-level mages could master teleportation magic, but that didn't mean they could freely travel around the world without restrictions. The size of the portal, the duration of its maintenance, and the distance of the transmission required constant control of magical energy by the caster.
Even within the borders of the North, the most powerful mages needed to pass through several portals to travel from the various kingdoms to Thanedd Island and attend the meetings.
Mousesack used to return to Skellige using a special teleportation circle linked to the Druidic Circle. But now he had to transport an entire army from Skellige to Cintra, across the sea.
Fortunately, the druids knew how to channel the forces of nature to reduce the drain on their own magical energy. That was the true power of knowledge. By casting a teleportation circle, magical expenditure was minimized, and the gems Lann had obtained from the Mirror Master were perfect materials to power the spell.
"Advisor Mousesack, it's almost time.." Elderly butler Enns gently reminded him from the side.
Mousesack calculated the time in his mind and, nodding, raised both hands and began reciting a spell out loud.
A huge portal opened in the air. Enns watched anxiously as Lann emerged from it, leaning on Ciri.
Lann rubbed his temples with an annoyed expression. His teleportation ability worked on similar principles to those of mages, and he did not yet have the magical energy to travel such long distances as to cross the sea and return to Cintra. Reluctantly, he had had to use Mousesack's portal.
"Welcome back, young master." The old butler smiled and handed him an herbal potion to ease the travel sickness. Although Lann often complained that it was an unnecessary luxury, Enns never skimped on such details.
Mousesack also let a smile appear on his serious face at the sight of him. "Welcome home, Lann. I've already heard some stories about your exploits in Skellige. Vissegerd knew you would be returning today with Ciri and set out from the battlefront to greet you. He should be arriving soon."
Lann patted Ciri on the head, indicating that he was fine now. Then he looked at Mousesack and said, "We'd better get to my study. A lot happened in Skellige, and we need to catch up. It'll take a while."
Mousesack nodded, unsurprised. "We also have much to report to you regarding the situation in Cintra."
...
Brokilon City, Residence of the Lord, Study.
Lann, Mousesack, and Vissegerd settled into their seats. The old marshal still had road dust on his uniform; he had clearly come straight from the front without a break. His body showed signs of fatigue, but his eyes shone brightly. During this time, he had felt, in a tangible way, the hope of Cintra's restoration, a completely different feeling from his years stationed in Brugge.
The last to enter was Enns, who had been busy arranging accommodation for the people Lann brought back.
"Miss Yoana has chosen a residence near the mansion. She is currently inspecting our forges with the craftsmen of the Tordarroch clan."
Yoana and her group had not arrived by boat but had accepted Lann's invitation to use the teleportation portal. Cintra was in urgent need of craftsmen, and waiting a month for a ship to bring them was not an option.
Lann, at this point, had already confirmed Yoana's true identity. In her previous life, she was a key figure, a master armorer capable of forging top-tier weapons and armor. With no expansions or DLC, her creations were the best a player could get.
However, Yoana's fate in the original story had been tragic. She came from the Tordarroch clan, wiped out by the ice giant. With no home to return to, and no recognition in a world that looked down on female artisans, she was forced to hide her talent. She became the assistant of a dwarf of little skill, giving him the credit for her works so she could sell them.
It wasn't until the players discovered the truth that Yoana was able to claim her own name and demonstrate her amazing talent.
Now, although she had not yet reached her full potential, she already far surpassed the royal blacksmiths of any kingdom. She was capable of handling all of Cintra's blacksmithing work on her own. And that was just the beginning. For the current Cintra, her arrival was a true treasure.
"However," Enns continued, frowning, "I've noticed that the craftsmen of Clan Tordarroch specialize in armor, weapons, and shipbuilding. They don't have as much experience with siege engines."
"Mr. Gerd has gone to contact Letho and his group. In the meantime, we have assigned Bill to House and the others," the butler continued.
"As for... uh, Miss Nanomi. She doesn't seem to like cities. She prefers to settle in Brokilon Forest and has even shown interest in meeting the dryads."
Enns seemed a little uncomfortable saying this, as if he was holding back from adding anything more.
Mousesack, on the other hand, did not hide his expression of surprise, mockery, and something that seemed… admiration? He even showed a hint of pride, as if he was watching a student surpass the master.
That Lann had returned from Skellige with a succubus as a companion was not something Mousesack had imagined.
Lann sighed and did not want to explain further. "Let her do what she wants. If she prefers the forest, let her stay there."
With Enns now settled into his seat, young butler Hardy poured wine for everyone.
Lann straightened up and asked in a serious tone, "How is the situation in Cintra? Before I left, Uncle Mousesack, you were negotiating with mercenaries in Kovir, while Enns, you were in charge of purchasing supplies from neighboring kingdoms. How are those efforts going? And, Marshal, how is the war going on the front?"
