The Divine Hunter

Firetail Inn, second floor.

A loud neigh rang through a dark room all of a sudden, and the couple who was going at it froze. The man looked back stiffly, and he saw a big brown horse standing beside the bed, staring straight at him. Its eyes were filled with curiosity about the act it was seeing, and it neighed again. The horse grinned at the man and huffed on him, blowing his fringe to the side.

The man stared back at the horse dumbly for a moment. Then, it was as if he were jolted by electricity, and he rubbed his eyes. “Honey, I might be seeing things. Is this actually for real? Honey, there’s a horse in the inn. Am I dreaming?”

The woman suddenly screamed and hid in the blanket. Two unfamiliar men suddenly appeared behind the horse, and the younger one gave him an awkward smile. “We are so sorry for interrupting you in the middle of this. We’ll leave right away. Do carry on.”

The man was shocked by Letho’s beastly muscles, and he lost his erection. “Oh no! I can’t get it up!” I’m finished for life. “You bastards! Who are you? Where did you come from?” he hissed, but when he saw the intruders’ amber eyes and the hilts of the swords protruding out of their backs, his voice turned into a whisper. “Wh-Why our room? And what is up with these horses?”

“Um…” Roy massaged his temples in frustration. “That’s a lot of questions. I think you had better go back to what you were doing before we showed up.”

“You think I can go back after what happened?” the man roared, but his question was cut short, and the woman fell into a trance as well. Suddenly, a green inverted triangle appeared within their eyes.

Roy quickly made the sign, and he was smirking as he did. “Remember, you’re still making passionate love to each other. You will forget what happened ten minutes ago, and you will keep doing this for two hours.”

“Huh?” Letho was making the sign as well, and he shot Roy a look.

“Alright, fine,” Roy grumbled. “One hour. You’re a man. You’re not doing it for less than an hour.”

***

Roy wiped the nonexistent sweat off his forehead, and the witchers led their horses out of the inn, much to the other patrons’ astonishment.

“Kid, why’d you give your blood to a wizard from another land? He might curse you and put you under agony.”

“Don’t worry about it. Azar’s a shady character. I’m not stupid enough to give him my own blood. We killed a lot of monsters during our journey, and I have a lot of their blood samples.” Roy gave Letho a look that told him to rest easy. I have an inventory. Switcheroo is super easy to pull when you have a cheat on your hands. “I didn’t break the deal, technically speaking. It’s still my blood. The blood I have with me, of course.”

I wonder what kind of stuff would come out of this experiment. He’s experimenting on monster blood thinking it’s witcher blood.

***

Cintra had wide streets. They were made of bluestone slabs, and the streets were twice as wide as the ones in Vizima. The buildings were minimalist, and the houses’ walls were made of thick materials that had rigid lines. There weren’t any decorations on the windows either.

Breeze tinged with the scent of sea salt flowed in from the west, and the people here had different fashion tastes compared to the ones living inland. As Cintra was built near a sea, and they were great allies with the forces on the Skellige Isles, the people here wore clothes similar to what pirates would wear. Most people would have headscarves, and they’d wear tank tops that revealed muscular arms. The men’s faces were rough and red thanks to being exposed to the sea breeze all the time.

Some of the louder and raunchier men would go without wearing anything to cover their upper body. They cursed every time they spoke, and all they talked about were prostitutes, alcohol, and ships. Sometimes they’d catcall the women who went by them, and the women would shoot them a nasty glare. Then they’d curse the men before leaving them to their own devices.

It was the first time two witchers didn’t get any sidelong looks in town

“Not bad. Cintra’s people aren’t as easily offended as everyone else,” Roy praised. He remembered that when Nilfgaard eventually invaded Cintra, its royalty and nobles held their ground until their very last breath. Even on the day Cintra fell, an overwhelming majority of the people didn’t surrender to the invaders. Nilfgaard’s executioners didn’t give them that choice either, however. The women killed their own children, and their husbands would take their wives’ lives before they killed themselves.

That event would eventually go down in history as one of the most infamous killings—the Slaughter of Cintra. Roy suspected that the records might be exaggerated, but it was proof that Cintra was made of brave people. Very few of them were cowards.

***

They kept going ahead, and their eyes were locked on northern Cintra. Specifically the lone cliff jutting out above the coast. A gigantic castle stood upon the cliff, and it was the residence of Cintra’s ruler—Calanthe the Lioness.

Roy thought about Calanthe’s life, and it was a legendary one. She had ambition, but alas, she was a woman, and her rule was not acknowledged by the conservative nobles, so she couldn’t be empress. She wanted to have a son to inherit the throne and her ambition, but after giving birth to Princess Pavetta—who was Ciri’s mother—she became barren because of her miscarriage during her second pregnancy. Her first husband, Roegner de Salm, found a fertile concubine, but not long after he married the woman, Roegner died.

The people said that Calanthe poisoned her husband so she wouldn’t have to relinquish her power to anyone she didn’t trust. Not long after Roegner’s demise, Calanthe married her second husband, one Eist Tuirseach who hailed from the Skellige Isles. He was also her current husband, but he was nothing but a puppet king who listened to her every command. In reality, Calanthe was still the one holding all the power in Cintra.

As Calanthe grew older, she wanted her daughter to give birth to a boy so control over Cintra would remain in her family. However, Pavetta gave birth to Ciri, who inherited the Elder Blood and ‘accidentally’ went missing at sea.

Ciri was Calanthe’s only living relative, but still, Ciri couldn’t inherit the throne, and Roy had a feeling that Calanthe would be looking for another puppet soon.

“If I’m right, Ciri should be receiving her education in the palace, and Calanthe should send her to meet that fat fiancé of hers soon enough.” Roy couldn’t wait to see Ciri and use the strings of fate to finally meet Geralt of Rivia. It was the first step to the witcher renaissance.

While Roy was coming up with the next step of the grand scheme, Letho took him around Cintra’s alleyways to look for the Viper’s sign on the walls and trees. Eventually, they arrived at a dilapidated courtyard.

Letho knocked on the door three times and stopped for a moment before knocking on it two more times.

“Who is it?” a high-pitched male voice asked, and Letho cracked a smile for once.

“As they say, always stab a drowner, and always give your old friend something to drink. Open up, fools.”

The old wooden door swung open, and a deadpan face appeared behind it. The man’s red hair was tied up, and when Roy looked at him, he had a feeling he saw that face before. After a while, realization struck him. Hey, that’s Serrit. The witcher who came to Kaer with Letho six months ago.

A moment later, another man appeared beside Serrit. He was wearing a hood over his head, but Roy could see that he resembled Serrit. It was Auckes, Serrit’s brother.

“Well, aren’t you handsome?” Auckes grinned and shoved Serrit away, then he clasped Roy’s hands. “You’re finally here, Roy. The fourth member of the Viper School.”

***

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