章節 72: 71 and 72
Chapter 71: Danger Approaches, to the Ore Tunnel
"Looks like the leshen gave you quite a bit of trouble, Letho." Roy was worried. Letho was still looking listless, even after resting up for days, obviously still affected by his wounds.
"The wounds are fine, boy. I just took too much of the potion, and it bit me in the arse. You'll run into the same problem after you become a witcher," Letho explained patiently. "And don't poke your nose in Scoia'tael's war against the dwarves ever again. We'll leave Mount Carbon after attending the banquet tonight."
Roy nodded. If his memories were correct, the Mahakams never fell to anyone, so Scoia'tael would fail even if Roy and Letho did nothing. Even so, the thought that an extremist group like that had been snooping around Mount Carbon and the Mahakams to plot a conspiracy didn't sit well with Roy.
"Has Scoia'tael become Nilfgaard's lapdog? Are they helping Emhyr var Emreis now?" Roy mumbled to himself, but he tossed the questions aside, since he couldn't do anything about that as of yet.
Then Letho asked him another question. "You're forgetting something there, boy. I need an explanation. How did you and your friends manage to take the leshen down? There were two spellcasters there if you include that leshen joining the mix. The dimeritium bomb I gave you should only be enough to take one down."
"I have the childhunter's vomit, remember?"
"The thing you hid in your dimensional pocket?"
"What dimensional pocket?" Roy averted his gaze in an attempt to hide his secret.
"I'm not stupid, boy. Your stuff keeps vanishing and reappearing without a trace. Even an idiot would know something was up." Letho was confused. "But there's one thing I don't understand. How do you manage to use a dimensional pocket when you can't even control the elements? I've never seen anyone with that power before, excluding the sorcerers, of course."
Roy puffed his chest. "I knew you'd see through me eventually, so I'm going to tell you my secret, right now. Prophetic dreams aren't my only specialty; I can even send anything I touch into my inventory space, and I can use them anytime I want."
"You don't have to lie, you know. Everyone has their secrets," Letho said solemnly. "Fine, keep your secrets then, but remember who you are, and never do anything that'll hurt the Viper School's reputation."
"Of course." The truth can be the best lie sometimes.
A short while later, a dwarven servant gave them two sets of clothes for the banquet, and Letho started teaching Roy how to behave like the people in high society. He straightened Roy's clothes out and flattened the creases on Roy's back gently, his gaze tender.
But when Roy finally wore the striped jacket and the pair of tight, yellow leather pants, all he could feel was something gnawing at his skin, and he felt itchy all over. Damn, this is some shit fashion taste. Why'd the dwarves have to take trash as fashion?
Letho chided, "Stand still! Don't jump around like a monkey!"
Roy stiffened, and Letho took a trip down memory lane. "I looked just like you the first time I wore those clothes. I hated them, but I came to understand one thing — our school can't revive without the help of those in high society. The peasants and civilians see us as mutants, heretics, and barbarians. All they offer is discrimination and nonacceptance, but they fear authority. If someone at the top of the food chain shows us their support and clears our name, the people will eventually accept us."
Roy was surprised that a veteran witcher like Letho would think that way. Asking for high society's help? Is that why they accepted Emhyr var Emreis' recruitment, and assassinated the emperors in the north? But it's useless. Those guys aren't on the same level as witchers. They're too high up, so there's no way they'd walk a mile in the witchers' shoes and listen to them. Witchers are but disposable tools to them. And witchers are few and far between. As if that isn't trouble enough, feuds always happen between different schools. If the witchers really want to end the discrimination against them, first they must end the feuds and work together. That's the only way to grow stronger. Roy had a lot going on in his head, but he pretended to listen to Letho anyway.
"You'll have to get used to all these formalities, whether you like them or not," Letho advised, but then a guest came in, uninvited.
Seville the wine dealer was still as fat and as resplendent as ever, and he nodded at Letho and Roy. "Hello, Letho. Hello, Roy. We meet again. How are you doing?"
"Fine. Real fine, actually." Roy crossed his arms, glaring at Seville coldly. "Thanks to your recommendation, we went for some great 'sightseeing' around Mount Carbon."
Letho patted Roy's shoulder, stopping his grumbling. "And what brings you back to Mount Carbon, Mr. Seville. Will you be joining the banquet tonight?"
Seville closed the door seriously. "I came to help you guys. Danger approaches."
"Danger? Oh, you mean the leshen?" Roy snickered. "Too late for that. We killed it and the Scoia'tael members."
"No, no, no." Seville shook his head, pleading genuinely, "I'm talking about the banquet tonight. You have to come with me right away. My uncle is going to trip you up tonight, to say the least."
"What?"
***
Seville pointed out the odd things that were going on around in the plaza, and when Letho and Roy looked around, they did find something weird. The patrols should have been lessened after the leshen's death, but that wasn't the case. Instead, more guards were patrolling the valley and standing sentry. The crossbowmen and archers were stationed at all the high vantage points, obviously defending against something.
Even the patrols around the streets had doubled, though they'd pretend to smile and salute the witcher and his disciple when they went past them. That fact made Letho think the dwarves were trying to defend against something worse than the leshen.
"Do you see? Elder Brovar set everything up to keep you guys from escaping. If you'd tried to run away, they'd have shot you without hesitation."
"Wow. After all we did to get rid of the menace plaguing his city, this is the thanks we get? A goddamn trap?" Roy's face fell. "Brovar's one ungrateful bastard. I'm not going to forget what he did to us. Never."
Letho looked calm, but his clenched fist was a sign that his fury was going to explode. On the other hand, Seville looked awkward after hearing his leader getting mocked, but he forced a smile. "I-I think he crossed the line this time too." He observed them carefully and changed his tune. "But if we put this matter aside, he's actually a fair leader."
If looks could kill, Seville would have died a hundred times right then and there. He gulped.
"But he isn't planning on breaking his promise. He has prepared your reward for killing the leshen. It's a rare weapon, a sword called Gwyhyr. It had been crafted by the gnomes prior to their exodus. Once he gives you the sword, the request will have been completed. Since he would owe you nothing, that'd give him an excuse to execute you."
"Ah, classic. They say force is the last resort, but it seems your kind leader reaches for it the first chance he gets. I see. So he's planning on giving it to us, killing us, and then taking it back. Oh, that is so smart," Roy mocked, though he thought it was a shame he had to let the weapon go.
He'd managed to read an old article by chance, and it was one that talked about Gwyhyr. It was the best sword in the world, the magnum opus of ancient gnome blacksmithing. It could cut through steel like butter, and anyone who wanted to buy it had to fork out an astronomical sum of money. Only gnomes can make that kind of weapon now. Their blacksmithing is top notch, but it's a shame they've moved to Tir Tochair. It's just what I need. If I can get it…
Seville sighed, breaking Roy's train of thought. "You shouldn't have killed Kaerwen, not even if it was by accident. Yes, he did collude with the leshen in the murders, but that doesn't change the fact that he was Elder Brovar's only son and heir."
"Kaerwen Hoger was his illegitimate son?" Roy was reminded of the rumor Dave had told him. He'd thought it was just a joke back then.
"Yes, he was, but Elder Brovar never admitted it, because it was a shameful past. Even so, everyone in Mount Carbon knew that. It's an open secret, actually." Seville pinched his beard. "Haven't you noticed that they look alike? It's like they're twins. Elder Brovar's getting on in age, and he can't really sire another child now, so of course he'd hate you. I mean, you killed his only son. We can't stay here any longer, so come with me."
"But where can we go?" Roy looked around at the heavy defenses. "How can we escape?"
***
The worse the crisis, the calmer they must be. Letho and Roy went back to the guest room and kept everything in Roy's inventory space before changing into some casual clothes. Then they went to the cellar with Seville, but to their surprise, their journey went smoothly. A little too smoothly. "You did take the leshen down and help us out a lot. Nobody's going to stop me from taking you guys to the cellar. I am a wine dealer after all.
Seville's cellar was astonishing enough, but it was nothing compared to Mount Carbon's. It was as vast as the ocean, and words failed them. The only light was from the candles littering the place, and all they could see was unending darkness, as well as wine barrels as far as the eye could see.
The barrel stacks were as tall as hills, and they were neatly categorized by their age and type. When Roy took a look, he noticed that the youngest wine was already at least ten years old. The aroma of alcohol and wood wafted across the air, and Roy felt tipsy just by taking a whiff of it. He felt everything around him turn into clouds, and his mind started spinning.
Letho, on the other hand, caressed the barrels, looking captivated by them, since he loved wine a lot more than Roy did.
"Guys, you can have the wine whenever you want. Let's get out of here first." Seville snapped them out of it and dismissed the guard before continuing down the cellar.
They came to the end of the cellar fifteen minutes later, and a black brick wall stood before them. Much to their shock, Seville climbed up the barrel beside and rummaged around, and then two dull thuds were heard. A moment later, the wall slowly retracted and revealed a dark tunnel leading to Melitele knew where.
Roy peered into the tunnel, and thanks to his high Perception, his night vision was superb. The walls were greyish-green and uneven, though there were extinguished oil lamps hanging on the wall at intervals. The ground extended downward at a gentle incline, leading into the darkness. Cobwebs and insects filled the tunnel that seemed to have been abandoned for years.
"W-what's a tunnel like that doing here?"
"We call it Smiack. Before the fortress of Mount Carbon was erected, this tunnel was abundant with ores. The most abundant of all, actually. It was pivotal during the early years of our establishment, and its contribution was immeasurable."
Seville gazed at the tunnel with respect, and then he sighed. "But ever since all the ores had been mined, this tunnel had been abandoned. If you walk straight ahead, you should reach Temeria by going through the Mahakams. Walk west for a few days and you'll reach Ellander."
Roy stared at him doubtfully. "How long has this tunnel been abandoned, old chap? Is it dangerous there?"
"Fifty years, I guess, so maybe there's something dangerous in there," Seville said honestly. "But if you don't want to take the risk, you can always stay back and face Elder Brovar at the banquet tonight. Maybe he'll change his mind?" Seville only had respect and fear whenever Brovar was mentioned.
Roy turned to Letho, looking excited to go. "What say you? Should we take the risk and face the unknown danger in the tunnel? Or should we hang back and expose Brovar tonight?"
Letho stared into the darkness, murder welling in his eyes. "Why should we attend a banquet when the host doesn't welcome us? You ready, boy? You might have to pull your own weight this time."
"Let's do it." Roy clenched his fist, and Gabriel, which was sleeping in his inventory, trembled when it felt its master's excitement. Roy's only regret was not having the chance to bid goodbye to his friends. "Seville, tell Reagan and the boys I said goodbye."
"Sure. Here's food and water." Seville pulled out a big sack quietly. "I don't think this much will burden Roy."
"Hold it." Letho turned to Seville, looking at him weirdly. "I need to know something before we go in."
"Umm…" Seville took a few involuntary steps back when he noticed Letho's murderous aura, as if a predator were glaring at him. "I don't understand, Letho."
"Do you think you can get away with it? We're not going in without answers, so tell the truth."
Chapter 72: Sword and Corpse
The wall behind them rumbled and closed, blocking their way back, leaving them with no choice but to push forward. Smiack was a narrow, winding tunnel that could only fit two people at a time, and because of the long years of abandonment, the tunnel started wearing down. Any slightly bigger movement would make debris fall, and one would worry about the whole place caving in on them.
Letho and Roy treaded forward carefully, and a few turns later, they came to a brightly lit clearing. There, a sheathed sword was quietly leaning against the wall. "Looks like Brovar held up his end of the bargain. This recon is worth it."
Letho managed to find out about the truth after casting Axii on Seville earlier. Turned out Brovar wasn't exactly trying to make enemies out of them, but at the same time, he didn't want to see them again because of his son's murder. He ordered Seville to lead them to Smiack for some monster killing. At the same time, he was trying to vent his fury on them. As for the banquet, well, the dwarves would have a lovely time. Letho didn't care about it, nor did he want to attend a banquet where he wasn't welcome.
Roy changed his opinion about Brovar ever so slightly after he saw the sword, but Letho scoffed. "You give him too much credit. The only reason he gave us this was to maximize his own gain."
"But having this sword is going to make getting through this place easier." Roy went up to hold the handle, but the sword's weight almost dragged him down. He took a deep breath and yanked the sword out of the sheath, revealing a blade of perfect craftsmanship. The blade was gleaming blue, and it was weirdly humming with joy after being released from its sheath, as if there were a spirit sealed within it.
Roy held the handle with one hand, while the other supported the blade. He tilted his head and looked parallel to the sword. Then he held the crossguard with both hands and pinched it. The blade was smooth and gleaming, and the crossguard had gorgeous engravings on it. The handle was just long enough to be held with both hands, but the sword was also usable with one. Its length was halfway between a longsword and a one-handed sword.
The sword's body didn't have any grooves, but instead the ridge was protruding, strengthening the sword. The part connected to the crossguard wasn't sharpened, so Roy could hold it without a glove. That opened up more options for him in battle, and the tip of the blade was the shape of an isosceles triangle.
Roy loved the sword, and a message popped up in his job interface.
'You have obtained Gwyhyr. You may bind this steel sword to you. Do you wish to bind Gwyhyr to you?
Gwyhyr
Type: Steel sword
Materials: Black iron, lava, meteoric iron, pine wood, and body parts from powerful monsters
Details: The sword weighs 3.06 pounds, and its handle measures at 9.3 inches, while the blade comes in at 36 inches. A spirit dwells within.
Circulation: Heals the user for a small amount of stamina after every kill.
Do you wish to bind the sword?'
Yes. Right after that, an invisible ripple pierced through Roy, electrifying him, and he could feel a connection to the sword he was holding, as if it were an extension of his own body. When he closed his eyes, he saw another item that gleamed blue in his consciousness. Roy had a feeling he could feel where Gwyhyr was no matter the distance between them. He held the sword for a while, immersing himself in its beauty.
***
When he was done admiring its beauty, Roy reluctantly handed it to Letho. It would be a waste to keep the sword by his side when he hadn't learned anything about swordsmanship. "I'll lend it to you for now, Letho." As long as Letho had the sword with him at all times, Roy would know his location no matter where he was. At least they wouldn't get separated then.
Letho took the sword carefully and placed it at eye level to make a close observation. What he saw surprised him, for Gwyhyr was perfect in every aspect relative to his own sword. "Brovar gave this sword to me, boy. I don't remember giving it to you."
"Well, what's mine is the school's," Roy said sheepishly. "And the same thing the other way around. Don't sweat the details." I've bound it to me, so a mere thought is enough for me to take it back.
Letho's eyes twitched. "You can't use this, and I think we know why. There might be some tough battles ahead, so I'll be using this for now." He tied the sword to his back, and it gleamed alongside his own sword. "I should teach you about swordsmanship once we get out of here."
They went ahead, feeling slightly at ease. Letho was leading the way, raising a torch above his head, while Roy took the rear, crossbow in hand and ready to shoot. Half an hour later, they slowly came to a plateau, and the tunnel was widening. Finally, they jumped down a ledge and arrived at a huge cavern.
It was man-made, and a few tunnels were spread out on the wall before them. There were decayed stone altars in the cavern, and the ground was littered with hoes, broken tents, and clothing. The oil lamps and extinguished sconces hanging on the walls spoke of the cave's former glory, now reduced to ruins. Ores of different colors were buried in the walls of the cavern, and some of them were glowing a hauntingly beautiful blue.
Letho picked one up and fiddled with it, and he clicked his tongue. "No wonder they wanted us to explore this place for them no matter what. Abandoned mine my arse. This is a rich mine, one with immeasurable value. No, wait. Something stinks."
On the other hand, Roy tripped while he was lighting up the torches. He looked down and was shocked to see the thing that made him trip. "This is a corpse!" A corpse rolled out from the fallen tent, and there was barely any flesh left on it. Roy could almost see the whole skeleton.
Letho put the ore down and checked the corpse without complaint. "This mine is a lot hotter than Mount Carbon, or it wouldn't have decomposed at this speed. But this guy probably only died last month."
"What are you trying to say?"
Letho answered solemnly, "Those bastard dwarves sent other humans aside from us on recon missions in Smiack. No, they sent them to their deaths."
"So Brovar is just coexisting with humans on the surface." Roy found it unacceptable. "He sees humans as nothing more than exploitable tools." We are different species after all. It's not beyond him to see us as nothing but cattle.
Letho went on with his observations, ignoring Roy. "A human male. Probably around thirty years old. Right calf and left arm were torn off, and he was disemboweled. There are some bite and claw marks on his neck. Take a look, boy."
Roy hunkered down to check the corpse, and he quickly scanned through his memory to see if there was any possible monster that fitted the bill. "Judging from the wounds, the killer must be a necrophage, but which one?"
"Look to your left." Letho pointed at Roy's left, and the boy peered in that direction, and he realized there was a blue fungus there.
"Longrube?"
"Remember what I told you? The things that appear in a place are usually the weakness of some particular monster."
Roy's eyes shone. "Longrubes can be used to concoct necrophage oil, so we're dealing with ghouls here? No, the wounds don't look like they were caused by ghouls. We're facing nekkers!"
The moment he said that, a loud screech came from one of the tunnels around them, stopping Roy's train of thought.
"Prepare for battle! Let's see what this sword can do." Letho stood up and held Gwyhyr with both hands, and then he swung it forward, causing the air itself to hum from the slash.
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