At the frontline temporary command post in Vizima's Trade Quarter, beside Natalis Square and across from Vivaldi Bank.
City Guard Captain Vincent walked heavily toward the guest room at the far end of the second floor. He remembered that room well, not only because Victor had waited there for investigation last year, when the bank robbery happened and Thaler accused him of guilt.
Batman had also emerged from inside, sweeping the dignity of the King's Eyes into the dirt and indirectly causing the head of the intelligence service to step down. Of course, one could also say he had saved Thaler. If the sight of him beaten black and blue had not been so ridiculous, the deaths of dozens of minor landed nobles in the bank that day would have been enough for the furious king to execute him.
When he reached the door, the two guards on watch saluted their captain as usual. Yet when they noticed the person beside the captain, they fell into a brief panic. That person waved for them to step back a few paces, then signaled Vincent to knock.
After receiving permission, the captain politely opened the door halfway. Angoulême was sitting by the dining table in full gear, carefully wiping her sword with a soft cloth. Lady Shani was nowhere in sight, probably resting on the bed behind the screen.
The captain gave the girl a slight nod. She rose and dipped in return, then sheathed her sword and stepped outside to speak with him.
After Angoulême came out, Vincent closed the door. "What a miserable night. Long time no see, Angoulême."
The girl blinked. Eagle Eye confirmed the captain's deep blue glow, the color of an ally. "It's all right. We're the ones at fault for coming to bother you while you're so busy."
Vincent stepped aside to introduce the person beside him. "After arranging the deployments, Mayor Velerad saw your report and took it very seriously. He wanted to speak with you personally."
Turning to the bald man with the bulging belly, who showed a faint blue glow, Angoulême knew the mayor was an important figure. She bowed with one hand over her chest. "Angoulême Corion, of the Phantom Troupe."
Velerad lifted a hand as if to support her from afar. "Pleased to meet you, lady. I heard you helped a squad at the Middle Gate defeat three 'Headhunters'... and in your report, you mentioned they were called 'Lickers'?"
After a simple greeting, he went straight to the point. It seemed this important man was rather anxious. Otherwise, according to Victor's teachings, people of his status normally had to circle around and waste five minutes on nonsense before talking business. Anything else would be impolite.
Fortunately, the girl also preferred speaking plainly. "Yes, those things are definitely Lickers. Extremely dangerous man-made monsters. Of course, calling them Headhunters is also fitting. They mainly rely on hearing to hunt prey, and they really like cutting off heads."
"What do you mean by 'man-made monsters'?"
"I mean they were originally humans. Half a month ago, on my leader Victor's way to Vizima, he encountered a mage conducting human experiments in the mountains near Sapopan. He personally saw him mutate living people into those monsters."
After hearing Angoulême's statement, Velerad's face turned exceptionally ugly. "Why didn't he report this situation after entering the city? Where is your leader?"
"Ahem!" Captain Vincent coughed twice to interrupt, then leaned close to the mayor's ear and whispered a few words.
Then the face Velerad turned back toward the girl became gentle again, upright and impartial. "So that's how it is. I wronged you. Don't worry, I'll find that negligent bastard very soon! And now, because of your outstanding performance, I'm prepared to hire the Phantom Troupe's services."
Having received her leader's deep teachings, Angoulême lowered her head to suppress the bellyful of complaints in her heart while showing enough respect.
"The Phantom Troupe awaits your orders," she said.
The mayor smiled with satisfaction. "Vincent will explain the details of the mission to you! Temeria will not forget your contributions, and the payment will satisfy you as well!"
After speaking, he gave Angoulême's pauldron an encouraging pat, then carried his bulging belly away with steps so light they defied common sense.
Watching Velerad's back disappear into the distance, Vincent turned to Angoulême with a smile. "Don't take it to heart. So many things have happened one after another lately that the mayor simply hasn't had the time to read every report."
The girl spread her hands and shrugged. "I don't mind. I'm sure the mayor will find that negligent bastard very soon!"
Hearing the hidden mockery in her words, the captain's smile turned into a wry one.
...
"Witchers are also known as monster hunters. They are a mysterious group of elite soldiers who serve as both warriors and priests. In folklore, witchers possess magical abilities and strength beyond ordinary people, which they use to fight wraiths, monsters, and other harmful forces."
, World Encyclopedia, Volume XV
...
"Move aside! Shut your damn mouths, all of you fools!"
On the outskirts of Vizima, after scolding the mercenaries and splitting the group apart, the leader who appeared before Victor was surprisingly a woman. This tall, slender warrior had gray hair combed back into a long braid, and the two thick, deep knife scars on either side of her face made her look ferocious.
The mercenaries were clearly very afraid of her. They meekly stepped back and truly stopped making their strange remarks.
Facing the witcher, she frowned slightly, then relaxed. "Thank you for your help, witcher! Your eyes are completely different from those I have seen in the past. I am White Rayla, leader of these idiots. Please don't mind their nonsense."
Rayla's wording was polite, but her voice sounded as though it contained gravel, carrying an uncomfortable chill.
Her name stirred no memory, and neither did her appearance. Victor did not care about a mercenary captain's icy tone. Or rather, cold-bloodedness was the norm. The fact that she could offer proper thanks was already proof of a good upbringing.
"I'm the witcher Victor Corion. What exactly is happening in Vizima right now? And how did you come under attack?"
"Sorry, I can't answer that question. We had just finished a hunt and were on our way back. This was our first time seeing monsters like these." The corner of her mouth rose, making the two scars look even more vicious. "But you used shouting correctly against them, and you shouted 'Licker' when you came over. Is that the name of this monster?"
The boy could not help looking at her in a new light. As expected of a mercenary leader. He had not expected her to catch every key point in such a chaotic situation.
"It's a man-made monster, created by a Salamandra mage. Half a month ago, I reported it to the City Guard and the Order, so I'm very surprised to see them appearing in large numbers."
The female mercenary nodded in acknowledgment of his explanation. "I understand, witcher. If you want to enter the city now, I suggest traveling with us. We have a boat that can cross Lake Vizima."
Victor had been worrying that there would be no ferry service at this hour, so he decisively accepted Rayla's invitation.
Some time later, the mercenary company of over sixty boarded the boat in orderly fashion and rowed toward the opposite shore.
As the vessel approached the city, everyone aboard looked increasingly grave. After observing through a spyglass for a while, the mercenary captain furiously drew her sword and hacked it into the gunwale, roaring, "All of you, speed up! It's a nonhuman riot. It must be those Scoia'tael scum again. This time, we'll cut them all down!"
The intense resentment in Rayla's tone left a deep impression on Victor, but he had no intention of stepping forward to ask. Back when he tried to advise Toruviel, he had already learned that many hatreds in the world could not be unraveled.
But when dawn rose, the boat reached shore, and he witnessed what the mercenaries who disembarked first were doing, he still could not help calling out to the mercenary captain.
"Rayla, make them stop. You're slaughtering civilians!"
"These elves are Scoia'tael reserves... no! They are Scoia'tael. Once they get weapons, they'll kill people. We're only striking first!"
In the span of just those few sentences, the dozen or so elves who had been crouching and trembling by the shore were already corpses lying dead on the ground, their eyes unable to close. Their clothes were ragged. They were probably people from the slums who had fled to the shore because they did not want to be caught up in the riot.
And these mercenaries were still going to cut off their heads?
Victor abruptly clenched his fist.
On the other side, sensing his anger, Rayla gripped her sword and raised her hand. The mercenaries around them immediately loaded their crossbows and shifted their gazes over.
She whistled, then drew her left hand across the scars on her face. "Witcher, do you have some objection to how we do things? Or could it be that you're a nonhuman-lover?"
In this era, "nonhuman-lover" was not a friendly term, but a malicious taunt.
Victor shook his head. After the surge of anger passed, he was not prepared to go to war with these people. Wasting his limited bombs fighting them would not undo anything, and it would bring many problems afterward.
"Then don't act in a way that gives people the wrong idea! Go do what you should be doing and keep your neutrality in good order," the mercenary captain said coldly.
After staring deeply at her, Victor could not definitively say White Rayla was wrong. He could only put her on the list of people he could leave to die.
Turning around, the witcher ran toward Vizima without looking back.
...
"My greatest flaw is my utter, uncontrolled altruism. I can't see someone in trouble without helping them.
But I'm a rational dwarf, and I know I can't help everyone. If I really tried to do that, then to the whole world and every living thing in it, it'd be no more than dripping one drop of clear water into the sea.
In other words, a waste of effort.
So I decided to help only certain people, so I don't waste effort.
I help the people close to me first."
, Zoltan Chivay
...
On the way to the Phantom Troupe's home in the Temple Quarter, Victor witnessed countless crimes, nonhumans against humans, and humans against nonhumans.
He considered acting out of righteousness, but suddenly remembered Angoulême. Last year, after leaving Flotsam and camping in the forest, how had she imitated Zoltan's words again? Applied here, they actually seemed quite appropriate.
Trying to help everyone was a waste of effort. The reasonable choice was to find Shani and Angoulême. Afterward, if he still had strength to spare, he could see what else could be done.
He ran forward. Fortunately, he had a pair of mutant eyes. A fully armed man traveling alone under the sun looked rather intimidating and was not easy to harass.
So after some time, the witcher smoothly reached the Troupe's home. Among the remains of the house, now burned into broken walls and ruins, he activated his extraordinary five senses to search for clues.
He quickly judged that the riot had started last night. The two of them had hidden inside at the first moment, until the building was set on fire indiscriminately in the middle of the night. Only then had Angoulême fully armed herself and escorted Shani away.
Then he sniffed the air. From among countless mingled scents, Victor found the rowan flower fragrance of his senior's perfume. His pupils expanded and contracted, refocusing until he could faintly make out the girl's footprints.
Following the trail step by step, the boy reconstructed their actions from last night in his mind. They had taken winding detours through alleys, and the danger they had encountered in every hiding corner appeared vividly before his eyes.
However, Victor was not especially worried about them. With Angoulême's Eagle Eye vision, along with her leather armor and talisman, she was overwhelmingly strong in this kind of chaotic melee environment. There was almost no reason she would fail to protect Shani.
And even if she truly encountered an extremely dangerous situation, she still had Golden Eagle as her final safeguard! That was an epic steel sword even he did not possess.
As he walked, an eagle cry swept across the sky. Victor looked up and saw Catherine!
...
[Name: Golden Eagle V2.0]
[Type: Weapon]
[Quality: Epic] (Void tier-up)
[Attack Power: Strong]
[Traits: Power of Destruction, Stamina Absorption, Hammer of Justice]
[Enchantment: None]
[Note: Only those who refuse to give up even in desperate straits can bring out this sword's true value]
...
Because the transport of the wounded needed to be convenient, the temporary hospital in Vizima's Trade Quarter had been set up near the Temple Quarter, requisitioning a three-story commercial building.
Sitting on the stone steps before the hospital and basking in the warm sunlight, Angoulême carefully wiped her sword, her expression focused and gentle.
More than ten city guards stood nearby, responsible for protecting the field hospital's safety, and all of them were paying her silent attention with their eyes.
This lady was an extraordinarily impressive mercenary. At dawn, under Captain Vincent's commission, she had run through the streets alone with her sword, helping guards in various districts fight the Headhunter Lickers. The bloodstains on her leather armor were all proof of her achievements.
At least the captain had said that once the situation stabilized, there was no doubt the Phantom Troupe would be awarded a badge.
At such a chaotic moment, being able to act together with such a brave warrior could not help making people feel at ease.
And speaking of reassurance, they had to mention Doctor Shani, who was currently busy inside the temporary hospital. After spending two consecutive years fighting the plague at Saint Lebioda's Hospital, she had already built a good reputation in the hearts of Vizima's citizens.
This time, after encountering the riot, she had also volunteered to help treat victims at the frontline hospital. It was thanks to an experienced army medic like her that many patients' injuries had stabilized. Seeing her sweating and busy inside through the window moved people from the heart.
And on such a warm afternoon, more than twenty warriors in full heavy armor approached from the distance. The flame emblems outlined in yellow on a red background marked them as knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose.
Watching them approach, Angoulême originally paid them no mind. But when they came within thirty yards, she suddenly leapt up and blocked their path.
The girl said loudly, "Stop. There's a hospital ahead. Doctor Shani said no weapons are allowed inside."
When they saw Angoulême's movement, the city guards did not know what was happening, but they still gathered over and stood behind her, blocking the road.
The knight in the lead lifted his visor. He was not Rose Knight Siegfried, but a stranger. His tone was cold as he said, "What do you think you're doing? Listen, little girl, I don't know who you are! But aside from the royal palace, there is nowhere in Vizima where knights are required to lay down their weapons! We are pursuing a vicious and dangerous criminal. I suspect he has already slipped into the area, perhaps even into the hospital.
"Do not try to obstruct the Order's enforcement of the law, or you will bear the consequences yourself!"
His tone was extremely forceful, and along with his words, the knights behind him all placed their hands on their swords in intimidation.
Although the Order's knights had not raised crossbows, just seeing the motion of hands gripping sword hilts made the city guards immediately shrink back a little. After all, the Order's everyday authority in law enforcement stood above theirs.
A vast patch of dark cloud drifted over, blocking the sunlight.
Angoulême lightly bit her lower lip.
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