I

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  Arc I Chapter 3

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  11th Anima Lunar VIII AAC 753

  The coach halted. The timid girl she was, Aurora tensed up. “Geralt ... Who are ... Who are these people?”

  “...” Geralt left the coach, grabbing his trusted rapier, He did not enjoy the luxury of plate armour, but you could not always choose your fights in life. His travelling garbs had to suffice. “Aurora, stay inside the coach. You will be safe there. Do not leave the coach under any circumstances. I will be right back after I have dealt with our guest.”

  Geralt approached their new friends, his steps leading him. Neither he, nor Ardbert had a good feeling about the entire situation. The air was tense. The mood heavy. Men in black robes blocked the road. Hoods masked their faces. This smelt like an ambush.

  Geralt drew his rapier, his gaze unwavering. “Who are you? And who do you think you are to block our path? Get lost immediately, and we might be tempted to overlook your impudent transgression.”

  A sinister giggle answered. “Who we are?” A man stepped forwards, shrouded in black like the rest. His lips smirked below his hood. “An excellent question, Count Geralt.”

  A bolt of lightning illuminated the darkening sky. Dusk loomed. The first droplets started falling. The rain covered the land beneath.

  “...” The enigmatic man offered an evil grin. “Unfortunately, time is precious. We are busy people, Count Geralt. We have important matters to attend to. We have important places to be. I hope you understand.”

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  Bright circles flared up from all sides, from all directions. Purple, green, blue, yellow, red, orange, their radiant light banished the encroaching darkness. Left, right, everywhere, magic arrays surrounded them. Squares, hexagons, octagons, all directly aimed at them. The scent of mana filled the ancient forest. Vibrant chants and invocations echoed through the air. The enemy had planned this.

  “...” Geralt’s eyes widened in shock. Magic circles! As he feared, this was an ambush!

  The enigmatic man smirked. “It is time to say goodbye, Count Geralt. It was an honour to have known you. I sincerely hope that we will never meet again.”

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  “Fire!!!” Guenther issued his order, a single word and the forest was set ablaze, a single word which would change the path of history forever. His men unleashed fury. A barrage of spells, lightning, wind, fire, ice, light, darkness, hit the road, flattening everything in their way. The spells proved devastating. The firepower overwhelming.

  No mercy was given. Nobody shall survive the hail of magic and death. Few things were more troublesome than a botched assassination attempt. They only got one chance. Failure was not acceptable.

  Unrelenting, his men pressed their advantage. The intensity of their bombardment increased. They bathed the road in fire and death until their attacks subsided. His men burned through their mana reserves at an unsustainable rate.

  “...” Guenther clicked his tongue. He probably should have brought more mages and knights, but capable magic users and knights were a rare commodity these days, difficult to come by even among the royal knights. After all, they did not grow on trees.

  Hiring second rate adventurers to bolster their forces was also not an option. Their loyalty would have been dubious, at best. They could not be trusted with such a delicate mission. The risk of information leaking was far too high.

  The dust settled, and a giant cerulean dome emerged in all its glory. Countless magic circles formed an impenetrable shield. The stalwart dome was the product of powerful ancient magic, the product of lightning and darkness combined, created with the sole purpose of protecting the coach. The barrier withstood the onslaught despite the numerous cracks across its surface.

  The girl had a powerful guardian, but he did not expect otherwise. Not for nothing, Count Geralt was considered a powerful practitioner of the magic arts. The Count did not disappoint. Eliminating him could prove troublesome.

  Guenther drew his blade to confront the old man. He was who stood between him and the girl. The Count would die by his blade. He would pay the price for protecting his mistress. His spell exhausted the old man, making him easy prey.

  Guenther called forth his magic, drawing on his mana reserves. A rotating hexagon materialised. Ominous mana gathered around his blade, producing a spear of shadows and vibrating lightning, of lightning and darkness intermixed. The gleeful sparks crackled in the air. “Damnatio!” His spell activated. His spear pierced the shield, shattering its last vestiges.

  “Charge!!! Kill them all!!!” Guenther led the assault, his men following him. The battle commenced. Chaos descended upon the battlefield amidst the unrelenting pouring rain and endless mud.

  Count Geralt von Styria

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