The Witcher – Uchiha Madara! Chapter 187 – Dealing with King Henselt 01

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

Third Person POV

Kaer Morhen.

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A portal opened in the throne room as a figure erged hastily. As soon as she stepped out of the portal, her face no longer looked the sa as when she had entered before. The woman seed nauseous and dazed, causing everyone who had been waiting for her at that mont to look at her in confusion.

The portal simply closed behind her as the woman fell to her knees on the floor, beginning to vomit.

"Hrrr!"

"What is this?" Henselt, seated on his throne, exclaid at the sight of the scene. His appearance was frail, far from what a king should be, due to his constant injuries, which betrayed his state and affliction.

Vesemir stood there, surrounded by four n. He had been detained as soon as the king ordered that a witcher be brought to use as a bargaining chip for his services, but that was not exactly what had happened.

While the sorceress was still recovering, the nobles, royal guards, and soldiers of the castle looked at her, bewildered.

"Where are my n? Where is the witcher? What happened there?" Henselt rose from his chair, his frustration evident at seeing Sheala in such a state.

The woman, still struggling to catch her breath, hesitantly lifted her gaze to him.

"They are dead. When I got there, they were all dead," she declared, leaving the room in tense silence.

"What do you an, dead? You left them there for five minutes! Everything was fine! What does this an?" One of the high-ranking nobles questioned, his frustration mounting.

"I'm saying they are all dead!" Sheala snapped under the stress. "Only the horses remained. I saw bodies scattered everywhere, the snow stained red with the blood of all those n. There were body parts all over the place, with no sign of the witcher. If you want to know what happened, I have no idea. But I didn't want to stay one more second in that place either because I also value my life, Lord Rygh," the sorceress replied to the lord who had spoken earlier.

"All dead?! How is that possible?" the king demanded, seeking an explanation.

Despite his outrage, the sorceress did not answer the way he wanted. In truth, she just wanted to tell him to go to hell and never return to that place.

"You're saying that thirty n were killed, including one royal guard and two knights, in just five minutes?" The royal guard beside Vesemir questioned, casting a suspicious glance at the witcher, searching for answers.

Vesemir rely shrugged, hoping that Madara was nearby in case he needed to escape from being hanged, burned alive, or beheaded by the king's orders.

"What is happening there, freak?" the king turned to him, his frustration evident.

"Who knows… Kaer Morhen knows how to deal with people like those. It's no wonder the castle survived a war and is still standing today," Vesemir replied calmly.

Even with his composed expression, he couldn't suppress a slight shiver upon hearing the sorceress's account. He knew Madara had done sothing, but killing fifty n in such a short ti was terrifying, even for him.

The king hadn't even bothered to have a proper conversation the first ti Vesemir arrived with the sorceress through the portal. He had spoken briefly and simply ordered that he be restrained. Then, he ordered the sorceress to retrieve the other witcher. Now, she had returned… and everything had begun to spiral out of control.

"I swear, witcher, I will burn you alive!" King Henselt didn't hesitate to point at him, while his n seed ready to act at any mont. However, a figure on the ceiling, unseen by anyone, was also prepared to intervene.

"This is my price, King Henselt," Vesemir began. "You started all of this. You sent your soldiers to kill us. Why should we simply accept dying by your swords? Don't you think that's too much?"

"You!" Henselt growled, gritting his teeth at the witcher.

"You shouldn't speak to the king like that," another noble intervened, stepping forward. His sharp gaze made it clear that, if he could, he would kill a witcher without hesitation. However, Vesemir remained calm.

"Then kill ," he challenged. "I'm sure no other witcher will help you, and you'll be stuck with this curse every night. From what I heard from your own mouth when I arrived here, it's a tornt you cannot avoid."

Henselt seed out of options as he still glared at the witcher with anger.

"Take the witcher to his cell. Keep him there for the rest of the night," the king decided. "But don't touch him. We'll decide what to do with him."

However, Vesemir could sense the fear hidden in the king's voice. His heart was racing, and he seed to be counting the hours until nightfall. He didn't want to endure another night of being beaten.

Vesemir allowed himself to be taken without resistance as his swords and belongings were stripped from him. Now, he could only wait for the king to change his mind and strike a real deal with him. ntally, he couldn't help but thank Madara for having defeated the knights—though he imagined the scene must not have been pretty. The entrance of Kaer Morhen, bathed in blood, reminded him of terrible things from a long-forgotten past.

The king watched as Vesemir was taken away and sighed, turning back to his n.

"What should I do? What is in Kaer Morhen that is killing all our n? Do the witchers have so kind of guardian monster or sothing?" Henselt muttered.

"I don't know what did that, but it seed to have been done with blades. The cuts were clean," the sorceress Sheala de Tancarville suddenly spoke. She was still catching her breath, running a hand over her face, trying to compose herself. After all, she wasn't used to witnessing carnage of that magnitude.

"So, you're saying a single witcher killed fifty n in five minutes? Isn't that dangerous for us? After all, couldn't this witcher kill all of us?" one of the nobles asked, worried.

"I don't know," Sheala replied. "But I do know we must keep our eyes on him."

Henselt took a deep breath, exhausted. Now, he had to make a decision. After all, at so point, he would have to sleep—and he would need the witcher.

"Perhaps you should yield, my king. Seek peace in an agreent. Fighting against the witcher school is bringing us nothing good," one of his advisors suggested as the king found himself lost in thought, yet at the sa ti, furious. His pride seed to hinge on this decision.

anwhile, in Kaer Morhen, Madara's clones were beginning to clear all the corpses from in front of the gate, stacking them before setting them ablaze. anwhile, Madara ran through the forest, and above him, a giant griffin soared across the sky, a white-haired man riding on its back.

After killing all of the king's n, Madara returned to Kaer Morhen with Geralt, where they found Totó, now saddled for the first ti as the beast landed at the castle.

Of course, he asked Ciri what had happened, and the girl gave a goofy smile before answering.

"Coen helped train and set up Totó for to ride!" That was the na the girl had given to the griffin.

Madara raised an eyebrow and had an idea. Then, he turned to Geralt with a sly look.

"You have two choices..." His voice was simple but carried a challenge. "Either you fly on the griffin through the sky while following , or you'll have to be carried in my arms like a princess."

After all, they were in a hurry. They couldn't afford to wait or simply take a leisurely horseback ride to their destination.

Geralt frowned and sighed, resigned. Monts later, he was already flying atop the creature, clearly uncomfortable, while Madara had already spotted the entrance to the cave. Geralt had shown him the location on the map, and Madara had followed it there.

The griffin landed a mont later, and Geralt dismounted with a grim expression.

"This is only slightly better than a portal." He looked around cautiously, promising himself he would never do that again.

Geralt might have issues with fast travel, but Ciri, on the other hand, was having fun. Flying with Totó was incredible; the griffin moved smoothly to ensure she wouldn't fall from the sky. But Geralt didn't enjoy flying—he only seed to like riding his own horse.

"Anyway, let's move forward," Madara said as he stepped into the cave.

Geralt followed him, attentive to the strange sounds echoing through the place. Monts later, they arrived at an area that looked like a prison, with a well-structured design.

"Don't ask how this got here," Geralt muttered. "But it looks like a very powerful mage built this base and captured monsters to study them. However, now there's nothing left but ghosts."

Madara nodded, not particularly concerned with the origin of the place. The structure seed ancient, perhaps predating even the construction of Kaer Morhen or the ergence of witchers.

They walked up to a ledge, from which they could see the entire floor below. There, several luminous ghosts wandered through the darkness, their bodies emitting a greenish glow.

"So these are ghosts," Madara said, intrigued.

"You need to be careful with them," Geralt warned. "They're usually untouchable. Either you set a magic trap or wait for them to materialize when they attack, and then you'll need a silver sword coated with the right oil."

Madara nodded, analyzing the area to find the best capture point. His Sharingan glowed faintly as he examined the details in the depths of the cave.

"I think that one's a good choice," he said, pointing toward a deeper spot in the darkness.

Geralt raised an eyebrow.

"You plan on throwing that into the king's castle? Don't you think that's a bit excessive?" he asked.

"Maybe a little, but that's good," Madara replied.

In the next instant, he simply jumped down to the lower level, surprising Geralt, who quickly rushed to find a staircase. He couldn't just leap from great heights like Madara—he was still human, not a walking atomic bomb with unknown energy.

Madara landed smoothly as the ghosts began to disappear and reappear around him, ready to attack with their claws. One of them lunged at him, but Madara grabbed it by the neck and smashed it against the ground. However, its energy simply dispersed, evaporating in different directions before starting to reform.

Madara observed this with interest.

"This looks fun," he murmured, as Geralt approached to help. Madara was dealing with these strange beings for the first ti.

A few hours later, Geralt was walking through the forest on foot, while Madara had left the cave at the sa ti. However, Geralt refused to return on Totó, and Madara mounted the griffin effortlessly, taking off to return to Kaer Morhen.

Now, Madara had arrived at the castle with the scroll containing a trapped ghost—the very one that had caught his attention earlier. He planned to use it to deal with the king's situation. He had learned a great deal there, with the help of soone who understood ghosts better—Geralt.

Even without much experience with this type of creature, he had learned enough that day to contain it.

Madara quickly gathered everyone as he spoke his final words to the group.

"Well, I'll be leaving now. I'm heading back to the capital to help Vesemir finally deal with the king's problems. See you soon," Madara said, bidding farewell to everyone before setting off toward Ard Carraigh, ready to depart once again.

-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------

Chapter 192 - The enemy in the shadows.

Chapter 197 - An Investnt for the Future.

Chapter 207 - The Elder Dragon.

Chapter 216 - They have arrived.

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