The next morning, spring rain fell in a steady drizzle. Victor left his residence very early, went to the Trade Quarter to purchase supplies, then caught the first ship of the morning, crossing the lake to Swamp Village and leaving "danger-ridden Vizima."
During the period when he would not be here in the future, he had left all necessary instructions for Angoulê. Originally, he had planned to have her serve as the guardian for his Trial of the Grasses, but plans could not keep up with changes. In a city on the verge of erupting, it was more important for her to guard his senior, Shani.
The boat reached the shore. He led his horse off the ship.
"Sir, please have rcy on ..." A female elf timidly approached to beg. Victor noticed that she was also holding a child in her arms.
He took out ten orens and placed them in her hand, then mounted his horse and rode at an even pace toward the jungle. Giving more was not impossible, but she would not be able to keep it.
...
Entering the jungle, Victor took a wagon fully loaded with supplies from his herbal satchel, hitched it to the horse, then led the carriage to find Toruviel, fulfilling his promise to a friend.
In order to avoid being hunted by rcenaries, the herbalists' camp had now moved to a nearby cave to live. They scrimped and saved, sleeping on filthy hides. When they received all kinds of supplies he had brought, the elves all cheered in joy at the sa ti.
"Thank you! Vic, I didn't expect you really could bring over an entire wagon of food. I heard the city has already begun controlling the export of goods. Getting these supplies out must have taken you no small effort." Holding the young man's hand, Toruviel smiled in relief.
The two of them stood not far outside the cave and spoke. The fine rain continued to fall, small, even drops soaking people completely through.
He patted the back of the female elf's hand in return. "It's nothing. This kind of thing is within my ability. I'm very happy I could help you."
Reaching out, he lightly traced her gorgeous tattooed eyebrows. "Such beautiful brows shouldn't always be furrowed. Since you've obtained supplies, leave as soon as possible! There's no need for you to be dragged into this storm."
Toruviel smiled. "Mm, I will. Are you rushing sowhere else now? Do you want to co into the cave, dry yourself, and warm up before you leave?" When she said "warm up," her delicate brows curved beautifully.
The young man blinked. "You're truly considerate! But I really do have other things to do today. I still have to ride a very long way."
"Is that so? Then may the wind guide your road and keep you safe all the way!" Toruviel stepped closer, hugged Victor, rose on her toes, and kissed his cheek.
...
Hooves clattered. In truth, there had been a hidden aning in that question just now. What the female elf had ant was that if Victor was not in a rush, he could properly rest over there.
As for what would happen during that rest, whether it would be single combat or team exercise, after he chose to leave, the answer would forever remain unknown!
Under normal circumstances, Victor would actually have been very happy to accept the challenge. But right now, a faint sense of crisis lingered in his heart, urging him to complete the Trial of the Grasses as quickly as possible and obtain powerful individual combat strength.
And so, at this mont, he rode swiftly through the wind and rain.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning burst bright. Victor had never co here in the past, so this was also the first ti he saw that there was actually a magic tower in the jungle. With his vision, he could see from afar that three people were fighting fiercely in front of the magic tower, and one of them was his friend, the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia.
Drawing his steel sword and urging his horse forward, the young man prepared to join the battle without hesitation. As the horse drew closer, he also identified the two people fighting the witcher. One was a rcenary wearing round dark glasses, and the other was a Zerrikanian mage covered in tattoos.
He was so familiar with these two people's outward characteristics that he could not be more familiar with them. They were the long-famous Professor and Azar Javed, whom he had never had the chance to et. In an instant, he engraved both of their appearances into his mind.
Strong! The first impression that Azar, this mage covered in piercings, gave Victor was strength. And he was dark as well.
If one were to describe him in the kind of old-world phrase Victor might have used back ho, he was a towering, strapping brute, with knotted muscles all over his body, like a black-furred berserker from an old war saga.
Just look at him, both hands each held a spiked iron mace with ridged shafts, and he swung them with lightness and peerless ferocity. He possessed the courage to stand against ten thousand n, and could actually hold his own against the North's finest swordsman, Geralt of Rivia.
In addition, from ti to ti, he threw fireballs and enchanted his maces with fla, his power irresistible. It was only that the fine rain kept falling from the sky, clearly limiting his performance.
As for the Professor, there was not much to say. His thin sword clearly followed a technical style. Azar was responsible for the main assault, while he ambushed from the side, occasionally retreating and making as though he would shoot with his crossbow. The interference effect was quite good.
Victor judged in an instant that if the fight continued like this, Geralt would probably be wounded by the two of them before long.
Between two harms, Azar looked difficult to provoke. The young man chose without hesitation to urge his horse to crash into the Professor. Although he was not good at mounted combat, making a simple charge with the help of the horse's speed was no problem.
The rain abruptly intensified. Raindrops struck his eyes. Victor narrowed them, raised his steel sword high, and aid a slash straight at the Professor's back.
Unfortunately, Azar's warning rendered the sneak attack fruitless. The Professor used his ultimate skill in ti, an ungainly roll across the ground, and avoided the fatal attack.
In the storm, the sudden intruder interrupted the fierce battle, making it necessary for both sides to reconsider their strategies. They looked each other over and naturally ford a two-versus-two standoff.
The Professor pushed up his round glasses. "Ah, it's actually Victor Corion. Why have you co here?"
The young man jumped off his horse with a grin. "I really didn't expect the infamous Professor to know . Can you tell where you've seen ?"
The horse felt the murderous air and fled. Neither of them answered the other's question. The crossbow in the Professor's hand was itching to move, and Victor's hand was inside his herbal satchel, also itching to move.
Geralt changed his stance, switching from the plow guard to the high guard. "That mage transford into Detective Raymond and deceived into unlocking this tower's defenses. There were several docunts inside, and now they've fallen into his hands. I don't know what he intends to do with those things, but we can't let him escape!"
Ignoring the White Wolf's vigilant stare, Azar planted his maces into the mud. "Victor, we're fellow countryn from Zerrikania. As long as you turn and leave now, I can pretend I never saw you!"
The witcher's words stirred a storm in Victor's heart. A few days ago, he had already heard that the White Wolf had accepted a commission and was investigating a certain magic tower in the forest, spending quite a bit of ti on it.
And a magic tower that made a mage like Azar transform and deceive soone for a long ti just to open it, combined with their goal of researching mutations, made the owner of this magic tower obvious, Alzur.
As for Azar saying he would pretend he had not seen him as long as he turned around, Victor did not believe a single word of it. The conflict between them was irreconcilable.
Azar's voice was low, carrying Zerrikania's unique accent. "I am not joking, but it seems you do not intend to accept my goodwill. Victor, I must thank you. If you had not interrupted the battle, I would not have had ti to harmonize with the magical power."
Hearing what he said, the witcher and the young man both realized at the sa ti that sothing was wrong. There was actually a magic circle of power nearby!?
If there had not been a natural magic circle of power, Alzur would not possibly have built a magic tower here. This was a very reasonable deduction, but Geralt had lost his mory, and Victor lacked experience. Neither had thought that Azar had actually wanted all along to harmonize with the magic circle of power and use it to cast powerful spells.
Seeing white light rise over Azar's hands, Victor and Geralt each scattered, hiding behind trees and seeking cover.
In the next instant, the rainwater seed to be emptied away, the air beca dry, and white light flashed, then exploded with a roar!
"Alzur's Thunder!" the mage's voice was deep and forceful.
The impact pierced through. A tree thick enough to wrap both arms around was directly punched through. Victor's entire body was blasted away, and his leather armor was blown open with a cut.
Being wounded by magic for the first ti truly felt awful. Lying on the ground, he vomited several mouthfuls of blood. After catching his breath, the young man rolled over and sprang up. Fortunately, on the road to Vizima, he had already updated the enchantnt on the leather armor he used personally. Otherwise, he might have collapsed and failed to get back up.
At this thought, Victor secretly cried that things were bad. Turning his head to look, sure enough, not far away, Geralt of Rivia had already fallen face-first to the ground. Tier Two armor and Tier Three armor truly proved that one got what one paid for. The leather armor had also been blasted open with a large hole, but the witcher had not been able to stand again!
He suddenly thought that if the original battle had continued all along, Azar would not have had a chance to attune to the magic circle of power. Then would the White Wolf not have been struck by Alzur's Thunder? Could it be that his support had instead caused a bad result?
There was no room for regret. He could not let Geralt die here!
The instant his mind was made up, Victor's spirit beca highly concentrated. He was very clear that once he was caught in a two-against-one lee, his performance could not possibly be better than the White Wolf's. Then there was only one answer, and only one chance!
His hand reached into the herbal satchel and grasped Grapeshot and a diritium bomb. Thinking back to the resolve he had held when facing the ice giant, he would use one do-or-die charge to resolve every problem.
Resolve! The so-called "determination to die" was not a heart that intended to sacrifice itself, but the will to carve open a path forward in a rainy forest!
Azar pulled the maces out of the ground with both hands. "Ah... what a frightening look! You don't just look as if you haven't despaired. On the contrary, your eyes are full of hope. Sothing is supporting you, making you believe you will win! Professor, do you still think it is impossible that he killed Albert?"
The Professor swung the thin sword in his hand. "Don't worry. I won't be careless. Whether he did it or not, we will solve this problem imdiately!"
The softened rain began to intensify again. White lightning flashed.
Adjusting his breathing, Victor prepared to sprint. At this critical mont, a portal exploded open at Geralt's position. And everyone present was very clear about whose mage mark the witcher would have on him.
The Fourteenth of the Hill, rigold the Fearless, rigold of Fla, wielder of Alzur's Thunder. That last title ca from when, during the Rivian Pogrom, she had cast Alzur's Thunder without the assistance of a magic circle of power and dispersed the mob.
The opening of the sorceress's portal instantly changed many things. Azar Javed hung the maces back on his back and cast a spell, opening a portal of his own.
"What a pity! I was originally very interested in knowing what exactly supported your confidence and made you feel that you would still win even in this situation. But it seems our victory or defeat will have to wait until the next ti we et!"
Then he was the first to pass through the portal.
The Professor, who lagged behind, pointed his crossbow at Victor and smiled with exceptional treachery. He said, "Try it again!" Then he pulled the trigger.
On the other side, after the portal opened, the young man's reason had already known the fight could no longer happen. And once he lost the do-or-die conviction of having no choice but to act, he no longer had the thought of charging forward. After completing the Trial of the Grasses, it would not be too late to settle accounts with them. But in just that instant of relaxation, the crossbow bolt had already flown straight toward his chest.
Triss rigold walked out of the portal. The first thing she saw was Victor being struck by a bolt and the Professor fleeing into the portal.
Letting out an angry shriek, the sorceress raised her hand and instantly cast a fireball, directly hurling it at Azar's portal. Unfortunately, she was still one step too late. The fireball blasted through the tree trunk behind it, and the remaining flas were soon extinguished by the rain.
Triss stomped her foot in hatred, opened a mage shield, and was about to walk toward Victor. She had clearly seen that bolt strike right in the chest. This ti, the young man was most likely not going to survive, but she still had to go take a look.
However, Geralt at her feet drew her attention first. She hurriedly crouched on the ground and treated his injuries. "Hiss... wounded by Alzur's Thunder? But this wound... the spell's power was greatly reduced. Good thing this leather armor is very high quality!"
After a brief examination, Triss was certain that Geralt would survive. Void traits did not belong to magic, so the sorceress could only judge that the leather armor's quality was very good.
While she was busy bandaging him, a shadow suddenly covered her. Triss looked up in surprise and let out a small cry. She nearly threw out another fireball, but fortunately noticed in ti and stopped.
The shadow standing before her was Victor Corion. That crossbow bolt was lodged squarely in his chest, half an inch deep!
The sorceress suddenly beca sowhat curious about Kaer Morhen's crafting techniques. It was simply unbelievable! A crossbow bolt that could even pierce poor-quality iron armor had actually failed to penetrate the young man's leather armor.
"Is Geralt all right?" His voice was very calm.
"He's seriously injured, but there's no major problem." After answering, Triss shifted slightly aside, indicating that Victor could also observe. She knew that this younger brother was an outstanding alchemist.
At Kaer Morhen, when she herself had been injured, she had drunk his potion. He was sure to have healing potions specially made for witchers on him, the kind that were extrely toxic.
The young man shook his head, took out one orange-red potion and one white potion, and handed them to the sorceress. "Take the White Wolf back first! The orange-red one is Swallow, my specially adjusted version. Especially toxic, especially effective. The white one is White Honey, for detoxification. Use them according to the situation."
Triss nodded and stood to cast a spell. The portal opened with a roar. Sensing that Victor had no intention of coming with her, she used a mage's hand to support Geralt. "Aren't you coming back with us? You look badly injured too!"
"I'm fine. And I have sothing very important that I must handle! Once I finish, I'll return to Vizima." His voice was very gentle.
The sorceress was sowhat astonished, because from the mont they t until now, the young man's behavior did not look at all like soone who had just gone through a fierce battle or narrowly escaped death.
He acted gentle and calm, but it was precisely that attitude that made her feel a tough power brewing, like the mont before a volcano erupted.
"Triss, be careful after you go back! Vizima will not be very peaceful. Find Keira and have her tell you the details."
The sorceress was sowhat surprised, because when the young man referred to Keira, his attitude was neither fearful nor respectful. Instead, it sounded close, as if he had always had the right to address her that way.
She knew that Keira and Victor had so interactions, but she had not expected this relationship to look as if it was not led by Keira, but rather an interaction between equals.
Had this little brother she had recognized over a year ago already beco soone Keira tz would look at differently? She rembered that at first, Keira had constantly been making trouble for Victor.
The thought flashed past. Triss nodded. "I'll be careful. Thank you!"
When the portal closed with a roar, Victor's mind suddenly surfaced with the na Alvin, that little boy. He had forgotten to ask Triss about him again...
...Forget it for now. It was not important anyway. Compared with the building in front of him, a strange little boy was insignificant.
He pulled the crossbow bolt out of his chest and put it into his herbal satchel. He had rembered the debt of the Professor's bolt, and also that phrase, "Try it again." The previous victim was most likely Leo.
"Glug, glug, glug, glug..." He drank down vitality broth and the non-toxic version of Swallow, then walked toward Alzur's Tower.
Although according to the White Wolf, the important docunts had already been taken away, just the na Alzur alone was worth spending so ti to inspect.
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