The Divine Hunter

Chapter 541 - 541: Chain Reaction

Chapter 541: Chain Reaction

[TL: Asuka

[PR: Ash]

“The prophecy of Ithlinne describes the bloodline of your family in detail, Your Majesty.” The light from the candelabra on the table shone upon Yennefer, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure you have heard of it.”

“There are dozens of versions of the prophecy, and it is included in Encyclopedia Maxima Mundi, which is an ongoing work. Humans, elves, dwarves, and gnomes know about it.” Bran stroked his beard. He lowered his voice. “Ithlinne accurately prophesied the decline of the elves and the war that just happened.”

“I do not think anything related to bloodline would be pretty, yes?” Mousesack looked at Ciri and Calanthe, concern flitting in his eyes. “The Elder Blood is the blood of the cursed, and it’s involved with something regarding the end of days.”

Curse? The end of days? Calanthe shook her head. Eist came to know of the Elder Blood that flowed within the royal family because he witnessed the power Pavetta possessed during the selection dinner. He refused to sire a child with Calanthe, thinking that this power would be incompatible with the explosive nature of a Skelliger.

He only agreed to sire a child when the kingdom was facing its imminent doom, and Calanthe’s fervent requests helped. She did not expect her daughters and granddaughters to all carry the Elder Blood, nor did she expect them not to be allowed to come in contact with each other.

She blanched, fear welling within her heart. I lost my kingdom, two husbands, a daughter, and the whole royal family, and that’s without the blood of the cursed. What will become of Ciri and my child, then?

“You do not have to worry, Your Majesty. Prophecies are but foretelling of one possibility of many futures.” Yennefer shot everyone a look of reassurance. “And humans can always strive for a better future. I have always believed that we can control and use the power of blood for our own good.

“We’re all born as crying, helpless infants, but we, by instinct, learned to walk. Much like walking, the Elder Blood is something akin to instinct. Ciri and your child have just awakened the power. Like toddlers learning to walk, they will fall and fail. However, should they be given proper guidance and training…” She looked at Ciri. Reminded of her grueling magical training, the young lady put on a scared smile. “They will be able to control their power one day. They will learn to walk, run, and even fly in the end.”

Mousesack looked at Yennefer, and he raised a question. “Yennefer, if I’m not mistaken, you are a student of the arcane arts, and it derives its power from chaos energy that is scattered across the world. You do not possess the Elder Blood, so how can you train them?”

“That is a brilliant question, Mousesack. According to my checkups on Ciri, part of the Elder Blood is made up of mana. She was born to be a sorceress, and I am a student of the arcane arts. That is why I can teach Ciri how to channel that part of her bloodline.”

“So you mean she is a Source?” Mousesack’s hand froze.

Everyone had a concerned look on their faces, and they turned to Ciri, who was furtively gulping down a third glass of blueberry juice, against Calanthe’s orders. Ciri smiled awkwardly, her teeth gleaming blue.

“No!” As if stoked by a poker, Calanthe seized the chair’s armrest and tried to stand up. “I will not hand Ciri or my child to Aretuza. They are of royal bloodline, and I will not allow them to be turned into barren sorceresses.”

“Worry not, Your Majesty.” Yennefer sidled to Calanthe and put her hand on the former queen’s shoulder. Calanthe calmed down. “They do not have to attend the academy. I shall be teaching them on the isles. If I prove insufficient as a teacher, we still have Mousesack.”

The druid nodded and patted Ciri’s head. “The path of nature is intertwined with the application of chaos energy. Come to me should you need any help.”

“Sorceresses are barren not because of the power we possess.” A hint of sadness flickered on Yennefer’s face as she was reminded of a somber memory. “It is because of the cruel and unnecessary arcane modification. I promise that Ciri and the unborn princess will not have that problem.”

Calanthe took a deep breath and eased up a little.

“Under my guidance, they will come to grips with their own power and find their own place in this perilous world.” Yennefer spoke softly, but there was power in her voice. “They will gain enough strength to fend for themselves. To defend their loved ones, and even help you reclaim your kingdom. Ciri’s talent is unmatched. She’ll grow up to be an incredible sorceress, and you should know how instrumental the sorcerers were in the Battle of Sodden Hill.”

“You wish for Ciri to learn the arcane arts and assist me in the reclamation of Cintra?” Calanthe shook her head and turned her attention to the young lady. She might have grown a bit from the adversity, but she was still a cheeky little girl. Calanthe was imagining Ciri standing amongst an army, shooting out fireballs and lightning bolts at the enemy.

And then a hail of arrows came raining down on them, plunging them into danger.

“No!” Calanthe spoke with raw emotions. “The reclamation of Cintra is my responsibility. Mine and mine alone. No one else’s. All I wish is for them to grow up happy.”

Since her granddaughter went missing, Calanthe did a bit of soul searching and had an epiphany. “I do not wish for more.”

“Very well.” Yennefer nodded. She gave Ciri a loving look. “If they learn how to utilize their talents well, regular soldiers can’t even hope to touch them. Even without me by their side, they will be safe.”

A moment of hesitation seized Calanthe, but she asked, “Why do you go so far for Ciri, Yennefer? There must be a reason.”

Crach gulped down some mead. Jealously, he said, “Calanthe, Yennefer shares a close relationship with Geralt, and the white-haired witcher shares a close relationship with Ciri. Law of Surprise, as they say. Yennefer is extendin’ her love to everything her lover cares about.”

“The Law of Surprise again?” Calanthe was a little annoyed, but she was also relieved. Geralt had proved that he was a worthy guardian for Ciri, and destiny was a better bondmaker than blood.

Yenneger held Ciri’s hand and turned her attention to Calanthe. “He’s not the only reason.” Calanthe was reflected in her eyes. “If I hadn’t been modified by the academy and lost my ability to conceive, I would have gotten married and had a daughter as adorable as Ciri.”

Ciri harrumphed. “Yennefer, that’s not what you call me in private. Adorable? You wouldn’t stop calling me an ugly duckling!”

Yennefer was speechless.

“I can’t comment on Ciri’s looks. Everyone’s opinion is different, but she’s definitely a troublemaker,” Bran teased. “She used to spend summers and winters on the isles, and the isles were always lively when she was around pulling her pranks. She turned Birna’s favorite bodice into a fishing net once. She, Hjalmar, and Cerys had the kitchen cook a bighead carp.”

Bran held Birna’s hand and smiled. “Birna almost fainted. She must’ve given you a lot of trouble too.”

Yennefer smiled.

“I leave things in your hands then, Yennefer,” said Calanthe. “Do your best to train Ciri and my child.”

Yennefer nodded with a smile.

Bran took notice of Ciri’s constant yawning. “The journey must’ve been exhausting. Let’s retire for the night, shall we? We’ll visit Eist’s grave tomorrow.”

“Can I sleep with Grandmother? I wanna feel the baby.” Ciri blinked.

“You’re sleeping with me, girl,” said Yennefer. “That’s if you don’t want to hurt your aunt.”

Ciri humphed.

***

A small, golden ball of flames hung in the skies of Skellige the next morning. The air was stifling and humid, a blanket of viscous fog draping the seas. A ray of sunshine shone upon a hill in the north of the castle.

Calanthe, Ciri, and Yennefer traveled up a long flight of stairs and came to a stop before a white marble grave.

Ciri went down on her knees and caressed the stone epitaph with one hand, wiping her tears with the other. “I’m sorry, Grandfather. I shouldn’t have run around so much. If I’d been there with you, you would never have died.”

“Do not take this upon yourself, child. You would’ve been no match for the army regardless.” Yennefer shook her head.

“I blame my weakness,” Calanthe cursed herself, holding her belly. “Roy had told me of the future, and I had months to prepare, yet the outcome remained the same.”

“Wait. What do you mean he told you the future?” Yennefer cocked her eyebrow. Over the last few months of her stay in the orphanage, she’d heard the mention of the mysterious witcher a million times. They claimed he was the strongest witcher, that he tamed a griffin, and that he started the idea of the brotherhood. More absurdly, he went into another world and killed a dragon. “Is he a seer? Capable of seeing the future?”

Calanthe nodded and caressed the thick jacket over her belly, grateful and worried at the same time. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would’ve thought it was a fairy tale. The ramblings of a madman. A witcher, predicting the whole war of Cintra, as well as Eist’s demise.”

“That’s far too detailed to be any regular fortune telling.”

“Roy has lent a lot of help to Cintra, but we failed him. Still, I owe him something even now.”

“Which is?”

“He asked for my daughter, invoking the Law of Surprise.” Calanthe heaved a sigh, feeling conflicted. She wasn’t as averse to the Law now, given that it was the same thing that saved her dear Ciri.

Yennefer froze for a moment, scanning Calanthe’s face. You’re deeply entwined with the witchers, you know that? Geralt asked for Ciri, and Roy asked for your unborn daughter to be his Unexpected Child. It almost feels like you’re a babymaking machine for them.

Yennefer thought she smelled something more insidious brewing behind these apparent coincidences.

Ciri swung her fists. “Two years ago, Roy and Geralt saved me from Eithné, then he helped Geralt find me when I was staying at Yurga’s house in outer Rivia. But he couldn’t show up anywhere near the orphanage, since some bad guys are hunting him.”

The surprised Yennefer stared at the shimmering sea undulating beyond the hill, and she muttered, “Odd. That couldn’t have been any simple coincidence. You are not bound to him by the Law, so how’d he find you every time?”

“I feel connected to Roy. We get on like… like…”

“Like a house on fire.”

A frown furrowed Ciri’s brow, and she nodded. “It was like the first time I met the baby. Like we’re connected by blood.”

Hm?

The older ladies had a look of shock on their faces. Ciri might have not realized the gravitas of her words, but they did.

The princess sharing a bond of blood with a witcher?

The ladies were going to rebuff the girl for even suggesting that, but then something happened. A great gash opened up in the air, and a silhouette cloaked in a black cape leapt out of the portal, landing before the trio.

The morning sun shone on him. He had short black hair, bone-like swords on his back, a viper medallion hanging before his chest, and a big pair of sunglasses covering most of his face. The silhouette stared at the trio before him and looked bemused for a fraction of a second, then a smile cracked his lips, though it was an awkward smile.

“Good morning, Calanthe, Ciri. And Yennefer.”

The stranger turned to the petite but curvy sorceress. Roy could smell the lilac and gooseberries in the air, and he was transfixed for a moment. The sorceress had skin white as snow, lips lustrous as blood, and a face even the gods would envy. She had an air of mystery hanging around her. Roy could see why the White Wolf couldn’t forget this flame of his.

“What is going on here?” Yennefer crossed her arms before her chest and made a gesture to cast a protective spell. The light of magic swirled over her head. “Who are you? You’re a witcher, aren’t you? How’d you conjure that portal? Did you use Eist’s grave as a waypoint?”

Ciri suddenly let out a burst of laughter, and she jumped into Roy’s arms. “Roy!”

This is Roy? Yennefer was surprised, but she let her guard down. So this is the founder the brotherhood’s been yammering about every day? He’s younger than I thought. Not even twenty years old. Clean and handsome too. Unlike Geralt, who never grooms himself. That guy has the ‘smell of men’ on him.

“It’s been a while, Ciri. I see you’ve gained a few pounds. Guess the guys back at the orphanage haven’t started your training yet.” Roy looked at Yennefer and explained, “Yennefer, that portal’s an ability I gained through my mutations. Just leave it at that.” He held the smiling Ciri’s hand and strode to Calanthe.

“How have you been, Your Majesty? Well, I hope.”

“Yes, all thanks to you. Now all I have to do is wait for my child’s birth.” Calanthe extended her hand so the witcher could kiss it.

Roy bowed a little. He held Ciri’s hand in his left and lifted Calanthe’s hand with his right, then he gave it a light kiss.

The moment the three of them had skin contact, the Elder Blood flowing within Roy, Ciri, and the unborn child resonated and triggered a powerful reaction. Yennefer was watching everything. She saw a gigantic surge of chaos energy bursting through the void, swirling around the trio, and a blinding white light flooded out of them, charging into the skies above.

Roy’s medallion was buzzing and shrieking like a sparrow caught in a net.

“No! You have to get away from each other, right now!”

A bolt of lightning flashed through the cloudless skies. Yennefer leapt ahead, but all she caught was air. The rippling space before her refracted the sun’s rays like it was a shattered mirror.

“I am a fool!” Yennefer froze for a long time, and a bitter curl twisted her lips downward. “I should’ve known. He has the power to tell the future and cross space. That witcher possesses the Elder Blood as well! But three of them? Three of them share the same blood?”

Yennefer stared at the empty space before the grave, and she muttered, “Great. How am I going to break this to them?”

***

Darkness as far as the eye could see. Black, gentle darkness, devoid of any light. The trio’s heads were buzzing, and their sight was robbed from them for a moment. A gust of icy gale howled across their skin, cutting through them like iron blades.

A worried Calanthe gasped, “By Freya, where are we? Ciri! Ciri, where are you?”

“I’m here, Grandmother! Roy? Yennefer? Where are you? I’m scared!” Ciri cried.

Ciri and Calthen shivered and huddled closer to Roy for warmth.

“It’s alright. I’m here. I swore I’d protect you, and I’ll take you both back unharmed.” Roy grabbed his collar. First things first. What is this place, and what happened? Was that teleportation?

He focused on his character sheet and was met with a blood-red message.

‘Your Elder Blood resonated with its kin, causing a chain reaction.’

The Elder Blood triggered a chain reaction and transported us to a random place?

Roy had his answer, and his sight was slowly coming back. The first thing he felt was vertigo. They were standing atop a tower nearly a hundred feet tall, the frigid morning air whistling at them. The tower’s roof had a slope of thirty degrees, and it was made of red tiles.

Underneath the tower were rows of houses and rundown alleyways. Scores of human silhouettes as small as ants prowled the streets. Standing behind them was a resplendent castle.

Roy stared as far as possible, and he saw a great ravine cutting through half the city sleeping outside the mountain of refuse. It almost looked like a titanoboa slithering in the wilds, and the witcher felt a familiar feeling snaking into his heart.

“I’ve seen this in the vision the goddess showed me. Maribor. This is Maribor. That ravine is proof of the centipede’s assault.”

“What’s happening, Roy?” Ciri narrowed her eyes. So nervous was the girl, her nails were almost digging into Roy’s flesh.

“It’s alright. This is just a chain reaction triggered by our blood.

“You mean the Elder Blood?” Calanthe held her bulging belly with one hand and the witcher’s arm with the other. She looked down, and her legs buckled. “Yennefer did tell me that I am not to stay in close proximity with Ciri, or it would cause some reaction. What should we do now?”

Already there were people taking notice of the strangers atop the tower. They stopped in their tracks and discussed what was going on.

“Hold my hand,” Roy said, seemingly unfazed, but his heart was thumping nervously. A great weight pushed down on him, and his temples were throbbing. This is where Idarran and the grandmasters are hiding, and we’re standing out like a sore thumb. If they find us…

The sense of danger that pricked Roy’s mind told him that his enemies were right here. He couldn’t leave Calanthe and Ciri behind, so he had to make a desperate play. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Visualize Eist’s grave in your heads and think ‘I want to go there.’”

Roy spoke softly. Calanthe and Ciri closed their eyes.

Roy’s medallion trembled. The space before the trio started to contort, and white light slowly unfurled.

The trio went into the light.

A moment later, a burly man in a grey cloak appeared on top of the tower. He had amber, feral eyes, and they were devoid of any human emotion. The man was as towering as a mountain, and his presence alone was suffocating. “Wave of special energy here just now.”

“And I say you’re overreacting, Arnaghad.” A man with skin as pallid as a corpse and face as gloomy as a dark cloud appeared beside Arnaghad, seemingly out of nowhere. “Time to leave. We do not want to leave the master waiting.”

The man looked at the ravine, his sickly, bulging eyes bloodshot and filled with excitement. “I have a feeling it will become stronger after this experiment. We’ll be one step closer to our goal.”