Witcher's Atelier

Insects chirped in the summer night, Triss was lying on the bed, sweating and struggling, while Geralt held her down tightly.

The bed was shaking violently, and the sorceress let out a long cry of "Ah~~Woo!".

Yes, Victor finally pulled it out.

Angouleme immediately applied a plaster to the wound and then wrapped it with a bandage. She was professionally trained in gold wound wrapping.

This was the third arrow and the last one.

The sorceress had very bad luck tonight. The two people who came to rescue her were only slightly scratched, but she was hit by three arrows, all in the back, which was simply ruthless.

Fortunately, none of them hit the vital parts.

Taking out the potion from the herbal bag and handing it to her, the alchemist laughed, "What a tragedy, Ms. Triss. But it doesn't matter, drink this bottle of "Victor's Old Formula", you will get better soon!"

Pulling up the quilt to cover her body, the sorceress reached out to take the potion and was about to drink it, but the white wolf next to her suddenly held her hand to stop her.

"Don't drink it in a hurry. Excuse me, Wick. I want to confirm first. This potion can't have that kind of effect, right?"

Geralt's expression of inquiry was serious and a little embarrassed. He didn't mind taking care of Triss, but this was the camp of the Scoia'tael. With the power of the old Vixen that could not be stopped, the sorceress who recovered afterwards would most likely choose to kill and silence her.

After hearing the uncle's vague words, Angouleme understood instantly and turned to look at Victor, worried that the leader's bad taste would come out again.

Triss was a little confused and didn't understand why others were nervous. Obviously, in Kaer Morhen, they all used alchemical potions made by young people to heal their wounds.

And Victor himself, of course, knew what they were doubting. Speaking of the first generation of the old Vixen, there were three lucky users, and two of them appeared in front of him. Just imagining their feelings about using it, the smile on his face couldn't be suppressed.

He smiled very brightly, "Don't be afraid, this is the second generation product. Remember? The side effect of the one that Flotsam and Jerk drank before was just eight to twelve hours of sleep."

After getting the assurance, White Wolf let go of his hand and laughed out loud. After a little consideration, he realized that he was indeed thinking too much. With the friendship between the three people, Victor would never do such a crazy thing to Triss.

Looking at the three people curiously, feeling that they shared a secret, the sorceress gently shook the potion in her hand, "Can I know what's wrong with this old Vickers recipe?"

Neither Geralt nor Angouleme wanted to explain, at least not in public, so this sentence could only be answered by the alchemist, "Nothing wrong. It's just that the early craftsmanship was not good, and the side effects of the first generation product were relatively strong. You can ask Geralt for the details later and let him tell you in person!"

After speaking, Victor patted Angouleme on the shoulder, and the two of them left the tent, leaving the happy reunion time to the two people who loved each other.

…

Sitting next to the campfire, the Phantom Troupe began to barbecue for supper. Tonight's ingredients were the Blue Mountain specialty "Salamander". Cut off the head and remove the internal organs, and then roast it and you can eat it.

Victor took out spices from the herbal bag and sprinkled them on. The lizard tasted very similar to chicken and had a high protein content. As long as you overcome the awkwardness of the appearance.

While chewing, she glanced at the Angouleme leather armor. There were several bloodstains and gray-black burns on it. Although the person was not injured, he looked depressed.

The reason why the girl was depressed was that although Triss was successfully rescued, the sorceress was shot with an arrow, and she believed that she had an unshirkable responsibility.

Victor smiled lightly and said in a relaxed tone, "It's okay to rescue people, but the one being rescued is injured. If I hadn't come back in time, she would have been in pain for a long time! Tell me! What happened to the hidden operation that turned into a mess?"

Tearing off a large piece of the hind leg, Angouleme puffed up his cheeks, "At the beginning, we found the basement where she was imprisoned. Triss was not tortured. She was just imprisoned by anti-magic shackles, and her body was a little weak, so everything went smoothly.

It happened that we were unlucky when we came out. We ran into a wizard with a high forehead and a horse face. He cast a spell and bombarded us directly, forcing us to fight."

"A wizard with a high forehead and a horse face!?" Victor touched his chin stubble, "If he has a pair of protruding ears, it should be Van Hema. Then what?"

"Nothing happened. Uncle Geralt killed him."

"As expected of the legendary White Wolf, how could Triss be injured?"

"The wizard fired fireballs randomly, and the battle alarmed the guards. There was a gloomy bald bastard, vaguely heard as Renoua, who led the troops to form a formation and shoot wildly with stone crossbows. Geralt asked me to carry Triss and escape first. She was hit by arrows in the chaos."

Knowing what was going on, Victor handed her the bottle of wine, "It's okay! The captain promises you that this level of injury is nothing. It looks serious, mainly because of weakness. Old Victor will drink it, and she will be full of energy when she wakes up."

After hearing this, Angouleme's eyes lit up. The members were still very confident in the captain's judgment, and the clouds on their faces suddenly dissipated and returned to the sun.

"Yes, it's not your fault that she was injured," the deep and thick voice belonged to Geralt of Rivia.

After comforting the sorceress and letting her drink the potion and fall asleep, the witcher who came out of the tent added, "There's no need to blame yourself. No one else could have done better under the circumstances. Thank you so much tonight."

Victor handed the barbecue to Geralt. There was nothing much to say about this matter. Angouleme also smiled and put a bottle of wine at his feet.

Eating barbecue and drinking wine, the three of them were in a relaxed and peaceful atmosphere. Triss returned safely, and the only slight grudge between Victor and White Wolf disappeared.

Geralt and Angouleme were even happier when they learned that Victor and Roche successfully rescued Anais and returned her to Temeria.

In any case, Foltest was quite good to them, and it was a good thing to rescue his orphan.

Footsteps were heard as the elf commander approached the campfire and sat down. White Wolf took the lead in raising the bottle to greet him, "Iorveth! Thank you for your help tonight."

Picking up the bottle and clinking it, the elf shook his head and denied, "No need to thank me, I'm not helping you, I'm doing it for Victor's sake."

"Theirs belong to them, and I owe you a favor." Geralt said calmly.

His gratitude was sincere. When retreating today, if the Squirrel Party hadn't used bows and arrows to stop them, and let the black-clad people keep chasing, the sorceress's injuries might have been more serious.

Several people present had a good understanding of the battle. Since the White Wolf insisted on remembering this favor, the elf commander did not refuse.

They finished their supper while chatting. Geralt returned to the tent to sleep with Triss, and the others went back to rest.

…

Before dawn, Victor opened his eyes alertly and felt someone enter the tent. In the dim light, the Samsara Eye clearly saw that the person was Iorveth.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

The elf nodded: “The companions sent to the sewers reported that there is a place close to the Nilfgaard dungeon. They saw a woman there. They suspect it is Philippa, Ehart.”

There was nothing to say. Victor jumped out of bed and put on the full set of Udvik armor. “Let’s go!”

“Do we need to call Angouleme or Geralt?”

“No need! Humans have their limits. Angouleme does not have that physical strength. As for Geralt, just let him accompany Triss.”

The elf commander had no objection to the witcher’s judgment. In fact, he was not going to take other subordinates with him.

What Victor didn't explain was that a sorceress who drank the old Vince's recipe would have to sleep for at least twelve hours, which meant that she was completely defenseless during this period. If an accident like the little dragon girl happened, Geralt might not care, but he would definitely feel sick.

The two left the camp side by side. The sky was faintly white and dawn was approaching. Victor suddenly asked, "Io, do you know the true identity of Saskia?"

The elf paused slightly, then continued to move forward, "The farmer's daughter, the saint of Aedirn, the dragon slayer."

"So you knew it a long time ago! You kept it from me all this time." Victor said firmly.

Iorveth touched his nose, "How did you find out?"

The witcher gently shook the steel sword Flame Strike in his hand, "This is my sword. It was taken away when fighting the dragon in La Valette Castle, but I found it in Saskia's room yesterday."

He didn't mention the circumstantial evidence of the dragon dream or the prototype telescope. He believed that the elf would confess to him without these things.

As expected, Iorveth pondered for a moment, "Can you please not tell others? Vergen can't live without her!"

"So this is why you believe in her... There is indeed racial equality in front of dragons. But you have to know that this is building a castle on the beach. Once her true identity is revealed, Saskia's rule will immediately collapse, and humans will never accept the rule of dragons."

While advising, Victor saw the other party's eyes, which were the eyes of a gambler. Considering that now is not a good time to communicate, he shook his head and promised, "I will keep it a secret."

...

After a while, when the sun shone into the sewer through the gap, the Lomne Summit was about to be held.

After passing through half of the city from the underground, the two people who had been silent all the way arrived near the Nilfgaard camp. Victor suddenly heard a familiar voice and recognized that the two people talking were the King of Redania and the Nilfgaard Ambassador.

For safety reasons, Iorveth stayed where he was, and he went forward alone for a distance. Finally, through the gap, the witcher saw the source of the voice, Hillard Fitz Oyestlan, Radovid V, and Philippa. Ehrhard.

In the heavily guarded dungeon, half of the soldiers from Nilfgaard and half from Redania were guarding the ambassador, the king, and the sorceress.

In the center of the cell, Philippa Ehrhard, with her hands handcuffed behind her back, looked a bit embarrassed by prison life.

Wearing golden armor and ceremonial belt, the attire for the summit, Radovid V stood proudly in front of her, "Ah... Madam, I have been looking forward to this meeting for a long time. You left Redania so suddenly a few months ago that I didn't have a chance to see you off properly."

"Your Majesty, I don't understand why I was arrested... Everything I did was for the benefit of Redania, including supporting the rebels to weaken Henselt. I am willing to gamble my reputation for your benefit." Philippa responded calmly.

"It's useless. I'm no longer the kid who believed your every word."

"Son of Vizimir, why do you treat me like this? I supported you in your most difficult times. Without me, you wouldn't be the man you are today... Your hatred for me is unreasonable. I don't understand."

Radovid narrowed his eyes, "No! You know very well, my dear Ms. Ehart, you know very well. Every time you look in the mirror, your pupils burn with the flame of desire for power.

I will never forget that after my father Vizimir passed away, you secretly joined forces with Dijkstra to undermine me. The entire Redanian court once heard the name of Philippa Ehart and turned pale."

"Radovid, this is not true. You must let me explain," Philippa looked painful, as if she was suffering from great injustice, her eyes were wet and full of emotion.

"Your Majesty, what are you going to accuse me of?"

"You will be charged with conspiracy and treason and regicide.

There is an evil organization - the Sorcerer's Guild. According to reliable intelligence, they ordered the killing of Demave and Foltest.

And Philippa Ehart of the Sorcerer's Guild, I guess you also had a part in my father's death. If I release you from the anti-magic metal shackles, you will also kill me!" Radovid said sternly at the end, "As for the evidence... Ambassador!"

Hilard on the side looked at Philippa with contempt, "Regarding the evil Sorcerer's Guild, Triss Merigold, the former royal advisor of Temeria, listed the members of this secret organization for us.

Although it is a pity that a few Nilfgaardian sorceresses are also members, but Ms. Philippa, you don't have to worry about their End."

"Triss... How could she say that? Your Majesty, she's crazy, this is all nonsense and fabrication."

"Stop your meaningless excuses, Ehrhardt, you will be punished, the trial will be held according to normal procedures, everything will be done according to the rules, but you must know that you can't escape this time. Justice will be served! The law will tie you to the stake and burn you alive!

Throughout my childhood, I felt your cold gaze on the back of my neck. When I gave an order, my subjects would first pay attention to whether Philippa Ehrhardt made a gesture of approval.

When you humiliated me, the whole court of Tretog was watching, and the whole of Redania was laughing at me behind my back. "

The hatred in Radovid's words seemed to be real, and the sudden venting in the second half was undoubtedly unbecoming, so Hillard and the other soldiers lowered their heads and pretended not to hear.

"You taught me to look into everyone's eyes and force them to lower their gaze. Do you remember? You said that a king must never show weakness or hesitation. I have mastered this.

But there is one person I can never make surrender, and that is you - Philippa Ehrhardt.

You have a chance to shorten your suffering time. Right here, confess everything in front of the ambassador. Look into my eyes and repent, obey..."

Philippa turned her head away with a look of indignation.

Radovid pursed his lips, "Refuse my mercy, then it is as you wish.

Torturer, dig out her vicious eyes."

"Stop! Your Majesty, you are making a serious mistake."

The sorceress shouted loudly, but Radovid did not respond.

Hiding behind the wall and watching this scene, Victor had no intention of saving her. First of all, he and Philippa did not have this friendship.

Secondly, the other side was outnumbered in the dungeon. In addition to the soldiers, Renoua stood next to Hillard, and there was also an unknown wizard next to Radovid.

As ordered, two executioners stepped forward, fixed the sorceress on both sides, took out a spoon and started digging.

"Ah... Ah Ah Ah..." Philippa screamed.

Radovid grinned.

When the two executioners stepped back, the sorceress fell to the ground, with two empty bloody eye sockets.

"Your Majesty, now that the sorceress's problem has been solved, I believe it is time to go to the summit. Please allow me to take my leave and make some preparations." After saying that, Hillard bowed and left calmly.

Radovid squatted in front of Philippa, "Dear Ms. Ehart, this is just the beginning. When I come back, we will have a lot of time to communicate."

Thanks to the book friends Ghost Repair 123, who is still sleeping in, Prof_S_Snape, for the reward and encouragement. Thank you all for your recommendation tickets and monthly tickets. Merry Christmas.