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TWL Chapter 287: A Succubus, a Druid, and the Stormy Seas
🕑 Added 2025-01-10 22:47:26 +0000 UTCAfter the initial surprise about the Conjunction of the Spheres, Lann quickly managed to calm down.
If the information that the Conjunction of the Spheres was about to begin was true, then some recent events made sense: The sudden increase in magical creatures on the road to the Northern Gathering, the ancient dormant monsters awakening in the forests, and even the stirring of the Frost Giant in Skellige…
Lann was a little confused, since according to his memories of his past life, there should not have been any prelude to the conjunction of the spheres during this period of time.
But with all the information he had, unraveling the mystery became easier.
…Was it his fault?
Lann brought his hand to his forehead, it seemed like everything was related to his fully awakened Elder Blood.
He remembered the moment when he first used the [Dimension Travel] skill and how the worlds seemed to start to draw closer to him as a center, even the Mirror Master had to intervene to push away those forces of attraction.
Lann could only complain, he was just a humble bearer of the Elder Blood. In The Witcher Series, when Ciri awakened the Elder Blood, there was not so much fuss. How can he now be the indirect trigger for the prelude to a catastrophe?
Or maybe… all of this was planned by the Mirror Master? Even though he has left this world due to his games, it seems that he still has a show prepared for him to entertain himself in which he will force him to participate.
Lann's thoughts spun like a whirlwind.
The succubus's laughter brought him back to reality.
"You didn't know anything about the Conjunction of the Spheres? That's perfect."
The succubus cast a wary glance at Iris. Despite her thousand years, it was the first time she had seen an existence as special as her.
"Bringing you this crucial information is, in human terms, my… how do you put it? My test of loyalty?"
"Can I join Cintra?"
Before Lann could respond, the succubus quickly added, "I do not simply seek refuge. I know many of my kind, even some Higher Vampires. I know that a wielder of the Elder Blood such as yourself will form your own faction sooner or later. If you need it, I can put you in touch with them."
Lann looked at the [Followers] panel in his system, then at his three unallocated ability points, and finally at the smiling succubus. With a sigh, he made a decision.
…
[Follower: Nanomi
Gender: Female
Race: Succubus
Level: 1
Talent: Enigmatic Charm
Experience: 0/1000
HP: 1756/2000
Mana: 1824/2000
Items: Cotton and Linen Floral Apron
Skills: Steel Bones, Advanced Botany, Advanced Mysticism, Advanced General Knowledge, Intermediate Succubus Magic
Quests: None]
[Shared Follower Talent: Enigmatic Charm]
[Enigmatic Charm: Provides the user with additional attractiveness beyond physical appearance, increasing the power of hypnosis spells by 50%.]
In order to seal the contract with the succubus Nanomi, half of the experience Lann had accumulated through the help of his followers and witchers disappeared in the blink of an eye. Although Nanomi claimed to be willing to follow him, it was clear that her words were more of a business deal than a genuine commitment.
Fortunately, Nanomi was unaware of the capabilities of Lann's system. During the contract, she offered little resistance, which prevented Lann from completely exhausting his experience.
As Nanomi and Iris's gazes fell on him, Lann remained silent for a moment before speaking.
"I have many things to do in Skellige, and it is not convenient to take you with me now. I will come to you when I return to Cintra later."
Nanomi nodded with an ambiguous expression. Suddenly, she realized that she had completely trusted this heir of the Elder Blood, not caring at all that he might abandon her there, never to return.
Why is this?
Lann, of course, did not clear up the doubts in Nanomi's mind. Instead, he turned to Iris. "We have found the Druid's apprentice. I am ready to return to the Circle of the Druids. Do you want to go back now?"
As he spoke, Lann gently stroked the curved blade of the scimitar.
Iris looked him up and down. Although the succubus's addition should have infuriated her, for some reason, her feelings were different. Behind the veil covering her face, her eyes lit up with an inexplicable intensity.
She had been following Lann for so long, but why did she suddenly feel that he had become more... handsome?
"Lann, let's go on horseback. Let Black Wind have some more fun. When we get to a place with more people, I'll go back to the scimitar."
Lann had no objection to this small request.
...
The return trip was smooth and uneventful.
Soon, they returned to the Circle of Druids, where they left the unconscious apprentice druid in his proper place.
Fritjof, who got the news, rushed over as soon as possible.
"Lann, thank you so much! I didn't think you could find him so quickly!" The old druid hugged him tightly, expressing his relief and gratitude. "I didn't even have much hope that he was still alive!"
"Why don't you stay with us longer?" he proposed enthusiastically. "I could share my knowledge and skills with you. You could become a Vaedermakar!"
Lann laughed nervously and pointed at the unconscious apprentice. "Maybe we should wake him up first, don't you think?"
Fritjof blinked, as if he had just remembered the apprentice. Frowning, he examined the young man. "What kind of danger did he encounter in the forest? I see no injuries, but he is unconscious... Is it magic?"
The old man immediately became wary. "Was he attacked by another sorcerer? Perhaps by the traitor we're chasing?"
Lann shook his head, unsure of how to explain the strange circumstances surrounding the apprentice. In the end, he opted to say tactfully, "He wasn't attacked. But when he wakes up, perhaps you should talk to him. Otherwise, he might come back to that forest often."
Fritjof was puzzled for a moment but soon understood the insinuation.
Lann stepped back and softly closed the door of the hut. From within came the mumbles of a spell uttered by the druid, followed by the stammering of the newly awakened apprentice, panicked cries for someone, abruptly interrupted by the old man's stern voice, and finally the halting replies of the apprentice.
Then there was a surge of magical energy. Lann instantly recognized the spell: it was one Mousesack used frequently, a spell to grow an oaken staff into a melee weapon.
For a quarter of an hour, the interior of the hut was filled with chaotic sounds. Outside, a few curious druids passed by the door, drawn by the shouts coming from within. Lann, unfazed, gave them a look that said: Everything is under control.
After a while, calm returned, and Fritjof left the hut.
Compared to the melancholy, guilt-ridden old druid Lann had seen before, the man who now emerged seemed completely renewed, almost radiant.
"Either way, thank you, Lann," Fritjof said, pondering for a moment before adding, "Did you deal properly with the succubus who was manipulating him?"
Lann was silent for a few seconds. Even on the liberal isles of Skellige, the druids who championed natural harmony held deep-rooted prejudices against succubi.
"I can assure you that she will no longer be a problem for Skellige," he finally replied.
Fritjof sighed in relief. The worry he had been carrying for days vanished completely. He now had a clear mind to discuss with Lann the information he had recently gathered when he went to Undvik.
"Even though I don't want to admit it, the more I find out about Artis, the more convinced I am that he could be the traitor who joined the Vildkaarls," Fritjof said, shaking his head.
"He has said and done some extremely inappropriate things. If it weren't for his extraordinary talent and the protection of his mentor, he would have been expelled from the circle of druids long ago."
...
Out on the vast ocean, a small merchant vessel cut through the waves, heading towards An Skellig.
There were about fifteen people on board, led by a knight. His attire bore a heraldic shield divided into two colors, red and blue, with a hybrid creature: half eagle on the top, half fish on the bottom.
The knight spoke fervently, trying to encourage his men: "We have obtained precise information! The evil witcher Gerd is now on the island of An Skellig. He has sworn loyalty to a pirate lord named Torgeir. This is our chance to punish him as he deserves!"
Although his words were passionate, his men barely responded. They all looked exhausted and unmotivated.
"Chastek, our leader was the knight Chalimir... He's already dead. Besides, with the situation in the Northern Kingdoms, even Redania is now seeking friendship with Skellige. This business of launching an attack just because of the duchess's whim..." one of the soldiers muttered.
Before he could finish, Chastek screamed furiously and kicked him into the water. The others watched, between fear and uncertainty.
"To hell with the Northern Kingdoms and Redania! The Duchy of Arcsea cares nothing for that!" Chastek bellowed, unrestrained. "That witcher, that abomination, dared to reject our duchess' offer to join us. Even if he takes refuge in the golden towers of Nilfgaard, I will hunt him down to the end!"
With a raised sword, he proclaimed: "Chalimir died for the duchess and achieved his glory! And I, Chastek, will also defend my glory with my life!"
Because of his action of kicking people off the ship just now, the soldiers didn't dare to ignore him and could only respond reluctantly.
They rowed hard, heading towards the island of An Skellig. Meanwhile, the knight continued tirelessly with his excited monologue, trying to 'inspire' his men.
Suddenly, a sailor screamed, "Chastek, there is a storm on the sea! And... there is a small boat in the storm!"
Chastek's speech came to an abrupt end.
From the bow, he squinted at the storm. Then, with a confidence brimming with arrogance, he turned to the rest of the crew: "It doesn't matter! Nothing can stop us from reaching the island of An Skellig."
One of the sailors replied, with obvious nervousness: "You don't understand! You are a spoiled idiot of the court. This level of storm is enough to capsize a warship! Only the Drakkars of Skellige could survive intact!"
Chastek let out a furious cry and, without thinking twice, delivered another kick, sending the sailor into the water. With his sword drawn, he pointed at the small figure staggering through the storm.
"Don't try to confuse me, you weak-spirited coward! If a small boat can survive in the midst of that storm, how could this storm capsize our transport ship?"
But only a few seconds had passed when another sailor, with a contorted face, shouted: "Chastek!"
The knight turned back with a ferocious face and looked at the sailor who spoke.
The sailor swallowed and, with a trembling voice, tried to measure his words: "That storm... and that little boat... seem to be coming toward us."
As he spoke, the entire ship began to shake violently.
