Capítulo 132: Style of doing things
Before their journey to Maribor, Wayne spent a few days getting ready. He familiarized Alex with chores around the house and light farmwork to build his strength and assess his character. Alex's thin frame suggested he needed time to recuperate before tackling witcher training.
Meanwhile, Wayne readied his own witcher gear and supplies for the upcoming battle. As planned, he met Triss at her residence. Portal magic, a marvel that could transport them hundreds of kilometers in mere seconds, was their mode of travel. Despite his superior physical condition, even witchers like Wayne felt nauseous during portal travel. Triss, however, seemed perfectly at ease. "Welcome to my hometown, Maribor," she greeted with a smile. "Would you like a tour of the city before we proceed?"
"Triss, I appreciate the offer," Wayne said, suppressing the lingering nausea from the portal travel. "Work first, then play. That way, I won't have anything hanging over my head."
Triss snorted playfully. "Alright, alright, Mr. Dedicated Witcher. Since you insist, I'll have someone escort you to the crime scene right away. Once you have some information, let me know. I haven't been back in Maribor for years, and there's personal business I need to attend to."
Wayne nodded. This was the plan they'd established beforehand. The more they knew before the fight, the better their chances. "Knowledge is power," he muttered, a truth applicable to any battlefield.
Witchers specialized in investigation and deduction, unlike sorceresses who excelled in wielding powerful magic. Triss, according to Keira, was a prodigy with fire. A natural adept. Wayne knew this well. In the infamous Battle of Sodden Hill, Triss's fiery barrage had taken down countless Nilfgaardian soldiers, launching her into fame across the North and South. The redhead may appear sweet, but her effectiveness was undeniable.
True to her word, Triss returned shortly with a middle-aged knight whose arrogant demeanor did little to endear him to Wayne.
"Wayne, this is Knight Ramsay," Triss introduced, gesturing to the middle-aged man. "Deputy Captain of the Maribor City Guard. He'll be leading twenty guards to assist us. Knight Ramsay, Wayne is a witcher, a specialist I brought in to investigate the murders."
Wayne, disguised as a human mercenary, stood tall despite his youthful appearance. Triss's introduction did little to faze the knight. His gaze remained fixed ahead, a haughty expression etched on his face. He leaned closer to Triss, his voice dripping with disdain. "A witcher, you say? We've lost nearly twenty citizens to this monster, and you bring in a child, a commoner? With all due respect, Ms. Merigold, this is an insult to our competence."
Before Ramsay could finish, Wayne made a swift, almost invisible gesture with his hand. A faint magical pulse shot towards the knight, and his arrogant facade crumbled. His eyes glazed over, his posture slackened. He stood rooted to the spot, under Wayne's hypnotic influence.
Witchers, unlike mages who relied on elaborate spells, employed a different kind of magic – Sign magic. Wayne's mastery over Axii, a sign that manipulated the mind, was exceptional. Even adept sorceress struggled to match his instantaneous casting and raw power. Axii, often dismissed as a trick, proved far more practical in situations like this, requiring no lengthy incantations.
Knight Ramsay's arrogant facade crumbled as Wayne unleashed a burst of Axii. His eyes glazed over, and he stood slack-jawed, a puppet under the witcher's hypnotic control. Triss, surprised by the abrupt action, let out a soft sigh and shot Wayne a questioning glance.
"This puffed-up peacock," Wayne shrugged, addressing the sorceress, "is worse than useless. Cooperation with such arrogance is a waste of time. Besides, dragging around a whole squad might slow us down, and if tempers flare..." He left the unspoken threat hanging in the air, a clear reminder of his lethal capabilities. "You wouldn't want another mess to clean up for the Duke."
Triss glared at him, annoyance flickering in her eyes. With a sigh, she muttered an incantation, releasing Ramsay from the trance. He stumbled away, bewildered, leaving them alone once more.
"Wayne," Triss began, her voice laced with exasperation, "even if you dislike him, a discussion wouldn't have hurt. You're unfamiliar with the city, and navigating the area without a guide will be a chore. What's your plan now?"
A hint of a smirk played on Wayne's lips. "Didn't your family own a chunk of that mine? Surely, they have someone who knows the place well. Just a civilian guide is all I need. After all, out there in the wild, those guards' fancy titles won't mean a thing. A Leshen won't discriminate based on badges."
"Not letting them tag along and letting a few disappear...well, that might be easier to explain to the Duke," Wayne mused, a hint of darkness in his voice.
Triss considered this for a long moment, then sighed in defeat. "Very well, Wayne. Do as you see fit. My nephew Will oversees the mine operations. I'll have him arrange a discreet guide for you." Her voice turned serious. "But Wayne, remember, this world runs on the whims of nobility. Witchers may possess unique power, but navigating the political landscape is crucial for our survival. We can't afford to alienate these... mortals, as you so bluntly call them."
Wayne grumbled internally at the term "mortals," but seeing Triss's sincerity, he offered a placating nod. "Triss, I have no qualms with nobility itself. Just the idiotic kind," he clarified. "Enlightened nobles, those I can respect."
Triss sighed again, but before she could reply, a young man with raven hair appeared beside her. "Wayne, this is Allen," she introduced. "A local hunter quite familiar with the forest and the mine itself. He should serve well as your guide."
The young man, Allen, avoided eye contact with the sorceress, his gaze flickering nervously between Wayne and the ground. He bowed slightly. "Master Wayne," he stammered, "you can call me Allen. I know the mine well. Wherever you need to go, I can lead the way."
Seeing Allen's co-operative attitude, Wayne nodded curtly. "I'll be off then, Triss. I'll keep you updated."
"Hold on, Wayne," she said, stopping him just before he left. Reaching into her pocket, she produced a crimson stone. "This is a magical communicator. Infuse it with a touch of chaos magic, and you can contact me. Its range is limited, so don't stray too far. But if you face any unforeseen circumstances, don't hesitate to reach out. I'll be there to assist you as quickly as possible."
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