Clap! Clap-clap!
Loud applause cut through the quiet night, clear and even jarring.
Everyone froze.
Then, they noticed a young man with two swords strapped to his back, who had appeared in their camp seemingly out of nowhere.
They hadn't heard a single footstep.
"You're... wait, are you here for the child?"
The rchant leader was the quickest to react, imdiately guessing the truth.
After all, even a Child of Disaster, cursed by the Black Sun, was still the Duchess's daughter.
It was inconceivable that she wouldn't have any guard.
And a Child of Disaster, destined to bring about the end of the world, paired with a lowly mutant? It seed a perfect match.
To think the Duchess had co up with such a brilliant idea—having a mutant escort her.
It all clicked into place now.
The Duchess's daughter must have wanted to escape the hardships of traveling with this witcher, which was why she tried to flee, leading her to stumble into their camp tonight.
As for the witcher, he had most likely tracked the girl's footsteps to find them.
Since he hadn't drawn his sword imdiately, it ant there was still room for negotiation.
"Witcher, let's make a deal, why don't we..."
The rchant leader didn't finish his sentence, instead giving a sharp wave of his hand.
His companions suddenly moved, a volley of crossbow bolts shooting towards Lynn.
In truth, the rchant leader had no intention of negotiating with the witcher; his plan from the start was to kill him and silence him.
The purpose of the conversation was rely to distract the witcher, creating an opening for his companions' sudden attack.
Multiple crossbow bolts firing at once—no one could dodge that.
Even if a witcher's vitality was tougher than an ordinary person's due to mutations, being hit by so many bolts at once would certainly incapacitate him, if not kill him.
At most, it would just require a finishing blow... What? How is that possible!
The triumphant smiles on the faces of the rchant leader and his companions, which had appeared as the bolts were fired, froze instantly when they witnessed them striking a bright orange light and shattering.
Then, as the witcher's figure vanished before their eyes, they plunged into uncontrollable panic.
"This speed... impossible to keep up with!"
"What kind of monster is he?"
The man who uttered that terrified cry could only gurgle "ho-ho" the next mont.
Because Lynn had appeared before him, his sword slicing open the man's throat.
Blood imdiately surged forth, bubbling incessantly from his mouth.
He could no longer speak.
His companions, instead of drawing their own blades and attacking, scattered like startled birds.
They might share prosperity, but not necessarily adversity.
Who would sacrifice their life for another?
They were rchants, not hot-headed knight-errants obsessed with honor.
Not only did they not charge forward at that mont, they took the opportunity to flee.
Each of them thought, "There are so many people here; he won't necessarily chase . I don't need to run faster than him, just faster than everyone else."
This line of thinking wasn't entirely wrong, as it was unrealistic to expect rchants to react with outrage at a comrade's death, like soldiers would.
However, they overlooked one crucial point.
Lynn was not like a typical witcher.
The combination of Superior Blizzard potion, Full Enhancent, and Mutation Synergy had elevated Lynn's speed to an unbelievable degree.
They thought it would take Lynn at least a few seconds to cut down one person, but in reality, it took less than half that ti.
And the combination of Superior Thunderbolt potion and Gwynbleidd ant that the chainmail worn by the rchants offered no protection whatsoever; it couldn't slow him down even an iota.
The sickening sound of bone and flesh separating was incessant.
The scattering rchants, none dared to look back.
They were terrified that if they witnessed the bloody scene, they would lose even the courage to flee.
Who knew how much ti had passed, but finally, the rchant leader no longer heard the terrifying sound of flesh tearing.
Only then did he cautiously dare to look back.
And then...
He saw it: that terrifying harbinger of death, standing directly behind him.
The gleaming sword in his hand was steadily dripping blood.
The rchant leader knew he was finished.
He was certainly going to die.
So, he honestly dropped the weapon in his hand.
Then, with a thud, he fell to his knees.
This was no longer any sche or trick; he was truly terrified.
He was a Nilfgaardian, a Southerner.
Southerners' understanding of witchers couldn't be described as half-baked.
It could, in fact, be described as utterly non-existent.
Because the earliest Witcher Orders were established at the request of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers.
Therefore, the main operating areas of witchers were naturally concentrated in the North.
And apart from the School of the Cat, which didn't settle in a fixed location, only the strongholds of the School of the Viper and the School of the Bear were established in the South.
Of these, the School of the Bear had no interest in the developnt of their school or the training of new mbers.
As a result, the number of Bear School witchers beca scarce, making it even rarer to see active witchers in the South.
Southerners hadn't seen many witchers and didn't understand them well enough, which was why they didn't know how terrifying witchers could be.
Of course, Lynn's prowess was also far beyond what a typical witcher could achieve.
The rchant leader was afraid, but Lynn had no intention of showing rcy.
He said nothing unnecessary.
A flash of cold steel.
The rchant leader's head was cleanly separated from his body.
He knew they were from the Nilfgaardian rchant Guild.
So what?
If every mber of the rchant Guild were executed, there might be so wrongful convictions.
But if every other person were executed, there would surely be so who escaped justice.
Lynn knew all too well what role they would play in the future North-South conflicts.
Besides, this mission he was on required secrecy.
Since these rchant Guild mbers already knew Syanna's true identity and had ill intentions, they certainly couldn't be left alive.
Lynn pulled out a cloth, wiped the blood and grease from his Gwynbleidd steel sword, and slid it back into its scabbard.
Then he searched the dead rchants.
He took all their personal belongings.
Then, the cargo on the wagons—he didn't leave that behind either.
These goods could be sold later in Novigrad, for whatever profit they could yield.
Finally, the horses pulling the wagons.
Although these horses weren't warhorses, but rather draft horses and mules, horses were still a considerable fortune in this era.
Lynn freed them from their wagon harnesses.
Then he cast the Axii Sign on them.
This way, even without reins, they would obediently follow the witcher.
Lynn picked up Syanna, mounted his black horse, and left the rchant camp.
For the rest of the journey, Lynn did not rest again, spending the entire ti on horseback.
The night passed without incident.
As the first light of dawn illuminated the land from the east, the outline of Caed Myrkvid appeared on the distant horizon.
Caed Myrkvid is located on the southern bank of the Yaruga River, with the Mahakam mountains to its north, the Kingdom of Sodden to its west, and the United Kingdom of Lyria and Rivia to its east.
Therefore, geographically speaking, Caed Myrkvid was a strategically vital location. If the Nilfgaardian Empire were to pass through Toussaint and invade the North, then Caed Myrkvid would be a must-take.
A few days ago, when they split up, Lynn had also agreed with Geralt and the others to et at Caed Myrkvid.
Geralt and the others were traveling on foot, certainly not as fast as Lynn via a portal.
So, Lynn entered the town first, found an inn, and settled in.
....
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