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TWL Chapter 266: The Wolf's End, The Witcher's Justice
🕑 Added 2024-12-05 21:03:24 +0000 UTCThe werewolf thrashed as he felt Einar's body disappear into dust inside his mouth, hunger making his expression even more ferocious.
The werewolf turned his gaze towards the two witchers, his eyes glowing with a terrifying intensity.
However, the next moment, the werewolf's body began to tremble. Something seemed to have become trapped inside his throat.
A frantic wail escaped from his throat as his body contorted, swelled, and deformed. A colossal energy emanated from him, gradually transforming into light.
As the glow intensified, the werewolf's body changed completely. His retractable claws disappeared, his fur faded, and his ears folded back into his head. The ferocity in his eyes dissipated, revealing a hardened-faced man lying on the ground.
Panting heavily, the man stared at his body in disbelief.
"I... am free? Ah! I am free!"
The overwhelming joy seemed to have made him forget where he was and what had just happened.
"Where is the tavern? I'm so hungry that I can eat a pig... plus half a cow, and a whole barrel of beer."
"Hahaha! I'm going to sea, the people outside must have forgotten my name! I want them to remember it well, I want everyone to know-Morkvarg is back!"
The man jumped up and shouted towards Gerd and Lann: "Excellent work, witchers! I'll pay you a reward... Aaaahhh!"
His euphoria was abruptly interrupted.
In the dim candlelight, several bloody maws appeared. Their teeth were sharp enough to tear flesh with ease.
They were the wolves that had accompanied Morkvarg when he entered the cave.
As a werewolf, Morkvarg had controlled the pack. As a human, he no longer had that power.
Gerd stood impassively as he watched Morkvarg being torn to pieces. "This is the only reward I want." He said coldly. "And the only outcome that fits my simple vision of justice."
[Mission - In Wolf's Clothing - Completed]
Lann, watching as Einar and Morkvarg had been similarly judged, remained silent for a moment before speaking: "Gerd."
"What's going on?"
"You don't look like you're from bear school."
"Huh?"
"But now I understand why the Skelligers appreciate you so much."
Lann smiled and moved forward to scare away the wolf pack with an Igni Sign.
Amidst the pool of blood, a necklace with a wolf's fang stood out in a peculiar way.
Gerd walked over to inspect it. "It's engraved with many runes, some in ancient languages and some more modern. It's hard to imagine a pirate could have something like that in his hands."
Lann picked up the necklace.
[Discovered item: Source of magic.]
Although he received the system notification, Lann thought for a moment and decided not to absorb the magic into the item.
An artifact capable of creating immortal werewolves from simple wounds deserved a better use than being absorbed. Perhaps Mousesack, Jerome, and the others could study it and obtain unexpected results.
As he thought about it, Gerd exclaimed, slapping his forehead: "Oh, right! That Einar guy seemed to have a key. The treasures looted by Morkvarg must be here!"
"Look quickly, in addition to the wolf tooth necklace, are there any keys or anything else on the ground? Quick! Lann, you also have a share of the bounty here!"
...
After a time Lann and Gerd returned to Freya's temple, where the High Priestess and Donar were still present. Upon learning of Morkvarg's fate, the High Priestess breathed a deep sigh of relief.
For their part, Lann and his group managed to obtain the information they were looking for: the hiding place of the Svalblod cult. They now had a clear direction for their next mission.
Although the information Morkvarg provided was from a long time ago, and it was possible that the cult was no longer in the indicated location, they had no choice but to investigate.
Even if the enemies had moved their main base, the Witchers' keen senses would allow them to find traces, which was infinitely better than wandering around aimlessly.
Still, they could not rule out the possibility that the cult was still in the same location, so the operation had to be carefully planned.
The men Lann had brought to Hindarsfjall Island were not enough for the mission, so they decided to return to the island of An Skellig to gather reinforcements.
There, Eist, who was organizing troops and supplies, decided to join personally upon hearing the news brought by Lann. He gathered the guardians of the Tuirseach clan and set out with them.
Lann also called Geralt, Coen, Kolgrim and his own squires, mobilizing everyone towards the new objective.
...
“The Svalblod cult and the Vildkaarls have been on Ard Skellig all this time, and I didn’t even notice! It’s a disgrace!”
Crach gripped the axe in his hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His face was filled with shame, but also with suppressed fury.
When Crach met Lann, Eist, and the others, and learned that the enemy they had been searching for was hiding in his own territory, he wasted no time in gathering his troops.
Knowing that the islands' enemies had been hiding for years in his own domain filled him with bitterness.
Lann patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, staring thoughtfully at the map spread out in front of him.
“The village of Fornhala… It’s on top of the mountains, very remote. If I remember correctly that territory is under the control of Madman Lugos, right?”
Crach growled in frustration: “According to that lunatic, all of Ard Skellig should be his domain!”
...
Crach was eager to cleanse his honor of his dereliction of duty and moved forward with an urgency that surpassed even Lann and Eist's.
They soon arrived near the designated place.
In front of them rose an endless mountain range. The mountains were not particularly high, but they stretched out like an impenetrable wall.
Looking up, the cliffs were tilted ominously, as if the rocks were about to fall away. At the top, some birds of prey, similar to falcons, could be seen flying over the peaks.
“Those flying creatures on the cliffs are harpies, while on the seaward side there are probably mermaids.” Crach explained. “Those flying monsters are the hardest to deal with.”
The witchers exchanged glances, understanding the challenge.
Gerd was equipped with a crossbow, so he seemed confident. Lann, for his part, had adapted the design of the Cat school's crossbows, and his men were also armed with these weapons.
At that moment Eist spoke: “Lann’s information comes from a Vildkaarl who left these lands long ago. The Vildkaarls may have already moved on, but we must be prepared for the possibility that there are still a large number of enemies in the area.”
Addressing Crach, he added: “You know the terrain best. I need your men to act as guides, scouting the mountains and looking for possible Vildkaarls hiding places.”
“Lann, your soldiers are cavalry. I need them to block the roads so that if we find the enemy, they can’t escape.”
“The rest will remain in position, ready to act upon seeing the signal.”
No one objected to Eist's orders.
Lann intervened after a moment of thought: “I have a proposal. I want to lead the witchers to the village of Fornhala. It was the old stronghold of the Vildkaarls, and they have surely left traces that only we could detect. We might find something unexpected.”
He pointed at House. “Cintra's cavalry will be under his command.”
Eist looked at House thoughtfully. “I seem to remember this man… He was one of your three squires, right? He seems to have a talent for command. That’s good…”
"I believe in your judgment and the warriors of Cintra." Eist nodded. “But Lann, I still think you should take more men with you. I know your skills are beyond my understanding, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”
Lann smiled and shook his head, turning to the witchers, there were five of them including himself.
“We’re enough.”
...
Fornhala is located on top of a mountain, a place that is not particularly prosperous. However, its remote location, its hostile environment, made it the ideal place to train warriors, which is why it was the site chosen by the Svalblod sect to build their temple.
After being attacked by the Skelligers, Fornhala has become a complete wasteland. There are no intact walls left in the village, only ruins.
Under a dark grey sky, the shadows of the ruins lengthen with the sunset. The dim light of the sun illuminates the arid land, diffused between the cracks in the ground. The only thing that seems to transmit vitality is the wind that blows between the cliffs, letting leaves fall without a sound.
However, in the eyes of the witchers, this desolation takes on another aspect.
Three pairs of amber eyes and one more of a dark gold shine brightly.
All the pheromones in the surrounding environment are transformed into visible visual factors through the synesthesia granted to them by the witchers' senses.
"Smell of bad beer, undercooked roast meat, and bad breath." Kolgrim commented as he kicked a pile of fire debris. "It was probably a vagabond looking for shelter."
"Smells of pine, malt bread, and axe marks on the dry wood of the floor." Coen added, touching a set of steps that were noticeably cleaner than the surroundings. "It was probably a peasant who passed through here."
"But none of that has anything to do with our goal." Lann concluded with a shake of the head.
Although Lann was a fairly strong witcher, he still lacked the experience of the more veteran members of the group.
"And you, Gerd? What did you find?"
Lann's voice trailed off into the air, unanswered. In the distance, he saw Gerd and Geralt staring intently at a dark spot on the ground.
Curious, Lann approached.
