The sky was slowly darkening and Lann had lost track of time as he recounted all his experiences during the journey to Skellige.
The three old men listening to him raised their glasses from time to time, and before they knew it, the wine jug was empty. Hardy had come and gone countless times.
A night breeze filtered into the room, bringing with it a sense of tranquility.
"It is truly a relief to know that His Majesty Eist is safe. If the queen could know, she would surely rest in peace..." Enns said with his head bowed, discreetly wiping the corner of his eye. "With Skellige's unwavering support, I am certain that under your leadership, young master, Cintra can be restored."
For the old butler, people were always the most important thing.
Mousesack, for his part, went from outrage at Artis' betrayal to bitter laughter. "What a lot of trouble you've brought me, Lann... Researching a necklace capable of cursing humans and turning them into immortal werewolves, deciphering the secret of the berserker transformation... And now you want me to teach druidic magic to an ice giant, too!"
Despite his complaints, the old druid's eyes were shining with excitement. For someone as passionate about research and knowledge as he was, each of these projects was irresistible. However, his to-do list was already full, and he had to prioritize.
Finally, he sighed and concluded, "Let's start with the matter of the ice giant."
Transporting an ice giant from Skellige to the mainland required an expenditure of magical energy that Lann, in his current state, could not afford. The only viable option was to use a well-structured teleportation circle; after all, this was a creature over ten meters tall. Even an experienced sorcerer would have difficulty opening a portal large enough and keeping it stable at such a distance.
The druids of the Skellige Circle were already working on the portal engravings, while in Cintra, the responsibility fell to Mousesack. Once the giant reached the mainland, Lann would be able to sustain the mana expenditure necessary to teleport him.
Of course, keeping an ice giant in Cintra was too risky and would draw too much attention. Lann planned to hide him in the snowy mountains of Kaer Morhen, where the environment would suit him. When the time came, he would use him as a secret weapon.
Vissegerd was the most enthusiastic about the idea. "With a beast like that, we could drive Nilfgaard out in no time!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining before taking a deep breath.
But he shook his head. "No, no... That would be a waste. Nilfgaard has catapults, ballistae, and most importantly, troops of sorcerers. We cannot risk losing such a powerful weapon in a single battle. This creature... no, this beast of war could tip the balance of power of an entire nation. It would be a mistake to waste it in a single engagement."
As he spoke, he began to mutter to himself, "Perhaps we could forge him a suit of plate armor... with cotton padding on the inside and a layer of leather on top for added protection. Also, he would need a suitable enchantment and a weapon befitting his size..."
The idea of making plate—and even enchanted—armor for a giant taller than 10 meters left Enns and Mousesack speechless. They couldn't believe how quickly the marshal had gotten carried away with emotion.
Lann nodded approvingly, however. If it was to maximize the ice giant's potential in combat, then the idea was worth considering.
Ever since he had obtained the giant, Lann had been full of ambitions. He had even fantasized about teleporting to the palace of Nilfgaard, summoning the giant and letting it unleash chaos, while he himself fled.
However, when the initial excitement wore off, he realized it wasn't that simple.
In order to teleport to Nilfgaard, he needed an anchor point in the city. That meant he himself or a companion had to travel there beforehand, which, given the current political situation, was practically impossible.
In addition, the Black Sun Empire had its own corps of sorcerers and a highly disciplined army.
The ice giant had been able to wreak havoc on the islands for years because it lived in the mountains and because the islanders had never managed to mount an effective defense. But if it were to appear at Nilfgaard's palace, it would face tens of thousands of imperial guards, high-caliber siege weapons, and an entire battalion of royal sorcerers. No matter how ancient and powerful the ice giant was, it would be a thing of the past in that scenario.
Still, Lann didn't completely dismiss the idea, just put it on hold. Maybe the ice giant couldn't quite pull it off yet, but if he could improve his power and enhance his abilities through the follower panel, who knows?
"Actually, the marshal's proposal makes quite a bit of sense. Equipping the ice giant with armor is feasible… It seems like a trip to Mahakam will be inevitable. Only dwarves can handle something like that."
...
For the next few days, Lann remained in the city of Brokilon. After making sure everything was in order, he prepared to visit Queen Meve and King Demavend to hold a tripartite meeting.
...
Aldersberg was the southernmost town in Aedirn. Unlike the rest of the country, which was known for its strong agricultural tradition, Aldersberg was known for its foundries and wool factories, making it the second most prosperous town after the capital, Vengerberg.
Its strategic location made it even more important: to the north it bordered Vengerberg, to the south Lyria, to the east Rivia and to the west the Mahakam Mountains, home of the dwarves. Beyond these mountains, to the far west, was Lower Sodden, now in the hands of the Nilfgaard Empire.
Although the city was not a battlefield, it was heavily guarded.
At this moment, a group of guards were guarding a teleportation point. They had been informed that they would receive distinguished visitors that day and that they should be on high alert. And, just as expected, a fiery red portal opened before them.
Although they had not received explicit orders, everyone knew which faction the newcomers belonged to they were, without a doubt, people from Cintra.
Nowadays, only the highest echelons of Cintra still used magical portals for long-distance travel.
Since the Battle of Sodden Hill, although the mages had helped the northern kingdoms resist the army of Nilfgaard, their power aroused suspicion in the monarchs.
The truth was that the northern kings had long been distrustful of mages. As royal advisors, they often meddled in politics, and the Brotherhood of Sorcerers did not hesitate to give them 'advice' that was difficult to accept. No monarch liked an immortal being versed in magic meddling in their affairs.
Especially in the north where kings were either incompetent and complacent, or cunning and extremely arrogant.
The events of the Battle of Sodden Hill only served to turn unease into distrust. Although the mages were celebrated in the village for their sacrifice—proof of this was the still-fresh flowers on the monument to the fourteen fallen at Sodden—to the rulers they had become a threat.
Especially the portals. What king would trust his life to a mage? Who could guarantee that there wasn't a deadly trap on the other side of the portal?
As in the case of the last northern summit, where the monarchs preferred to cross mountains and travel thousands of kilometers on horseback rather than cross a portal and reach Hagge Castle in a single step.
Only in Cintra did its ruler still fully trust his magical advisors, to the point of using the portals without hesitation, literally putting his life in the hands of a mage.
The first to cross the portal was a golden-haired knight, mounted on an imposing steed.
When the soldiers saw him appear, they could not help but hold their breath. The verses that spoke of his imposing gaze like that of a lion did not do justice to reality.
Some swordsmen among the Aedirn soldiers, however, turned their gaze to the sword on his back: the legendary Sword of the Lady of the Lake. Their eyes reflected a burning desire.
Shortly after, three more figures emerged from the portal.
One had the cold, calculating expression of a wolf.
Another, the haughty presence of a griffin.
The last, the sharp, lethal gaze of a viper.
There was no doubt: they were witchers. Mutant monster hunters, immortalized in the ballads of the bards.
The soldiers couldn't help but be amazed. Only a leader worthy of respect was capable of taming warriors with such an imposing presence.
After them, the attendants and personal guards began to emerge. Each one looked impeccable and wore superior equipment. Instinctively, the local soldiers compared their own attire to that of the newcomers… and realized that the latter far outclassed them.
The last to leave the portal were a group of dwarves.
Some of those present frowned involuntarily.
At that moment, a slender figure dressed in black armor stepped forward with a firm and determined step, heading straight for Lann.
"Good day, Duke Lannister," she greeted in a strong voice. "I am Rayla of Lyria."
Then, with a smile, she added: "Her Majesty has been waiting for you for a while."
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