Chapter 1442 - 1407: The Chase Begins

Sigismund Dikoschek, the head of spies in Redania, walked along the streets of Gos Velen.

At this hour, with the moon half-high, ordinary people should have long fallen into a deep sleep, except for those decadent mages whose banquets stretch into the early hours of the next day.

The streets of Gos Velen lay silent in the night, for apart from taverns and brothels, this era offered little else in the way of nighttime entertainment.

But tonight, Dikoschek had no interest in anything else.

He had just stepped out of the renowned and opulent Airetusa, even more grandiose than the Royal Palace, filled with doubts.

Why were these northern wizards, already so wealthy and enjoying such independent and exalted political status, still willing to accept money pouches from the Southern Empire?!

Though furious, Dikoschek was the kind of person who would carry out his tasks calmly even in anger.

The portly man, his substantial frame wrapped in a snug coat with an open front, walked toward the harbor where only a flickering oil lamp remained in the guard station.

The guard inside the station stood silently as Dikoschek passed, saluting him before returning to his seat as if nothing happened.

He boarded a large ship docked at this port and made his way straight down to the cabin.

As soon as he descended, the faint clinking of metal filled the air.

Fifty fully armed soldiers, with the ’Redanian Red Hawk’ emblem on their cuirasses, made the already cramped cabin feel almost impossible to navigate.

Clearly, they had just finished donning their armor.

Seeing Dikoschek’s descent, the previously scattered and disordered soldiers immediately stood at attention.

After a quick glance, the spy master handed over a key hanging from his neck to the officer, instructing in a low voice, "Vomir, this is the key to the chest in the captain’s cabin. Each person gets a pair of Demon-Blocking Golden Shackles and a Demon-Blocking Gold Talisman."

"String up your crossbows, and be ready with short swords, long spears, and shields. Stay alert! It’s time to get to work!"

The soldiers nodded silently, then collected their equipment, heading up to the deck and briefly forming up in the port’s empty space.

As this process unfolded, Dikoschek frowned and pulled aside the officer who had just distributed the demon-blocking equipment: "Wait, where are the others on the ship?"

The Swirling Wing was registered as a cargo vessel in Novigrad, able to carry fifty soldiers along with all necessary equipment.

At the same time, to maintain the ship’s own ability to sail, the captain, first mate, sailors, and other essential personnel were almost equal in number to the soldiers.

As for ordinary shiphands, Dikoschek had collectively placed them elsewhere for tonight.

The primary objective of their operation was ’speed and surprise.’

Come morning, or at the latest by midday, they needed to set sail and leave Gos Velen immediately.

But personnel like the captain and first mate should still be on duty aboard the ship.

However, the officer being questioned looked bewildered, and seeing his expression made Dikoschek’s heart sink.

"Didn’t they say there were other arrangements... sir?"

The officer caught himself midway through, noticing Dikoschek’s expression, and immediately realized something was amiss!

But in the end, he dared not say more and could only fall silent in embarrassment.

The spy master’s face darkened, his gaze directed towards the workshop district at the base of the city walls where a red glow was gradually rising, then towards the silent and impassive Airetusa.

Finally, he waved his hand with a twitch of his lips, signaling for the mission to proceed as planned.

He led the soldiers towards Airetusa, passing through checkpoints providing security for the Wizard Summit as if they were invisible.

Meanwhile, Dikoschek muttered to himself, "Damn it, stuffing people into my hands to do your dirty work?!"

"No... it might not be dirty work at all!"

If it were just someone within Redania eyeing the vast profits from Valyrian steel, Dikoschek wouldn’t be surprised.

But making a move at this juncture made it difficult to say whether it was merely for profit, or... something far more grandiose.

Regardless, at this point, the arrow was set to the string and had to be released. The most urgent matter had to be completed before addressing the rest!

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Another Royal Advisor of the Temerian Kingdom, Keira Metz, cast a light spell, which could suspend a cool-colored orb wherever the Caster wished, or follow her movements.

Keira Metz now had changed from the attire she wore at the banquet, similar to Sabina, where she was one of fourteen Female Warlocks at the event, clad in diaphanous gowns that revealed more than they concealed.

However, she had now donned a gray hunting outfit, casting a cold eye on a group of soldiers struggling to subdue a Mage.

Great Mage.

The magic candlelights in those luxurious corridors of Airetusa had all gone out, leaving only the cold light above Keira Metz’s head.

Alto Tranowa, a member of the Talent and Skill Association, was now being lifted from the ground by two Redanian soldiers.

"Handcuff him," ordered the Female Warlock succinctly.

"How dare you cuff me?" Alto shouted, "Metz! You have some nerve! I am a member of the Wizard Association!"

The Warlocks often referred to the Talent and Skill Association as the Wizard Association internally.

"You were once. But soon you won’t be, you’re just an ordinary traitor, and you’ll receive a traitor’s treatment."

"You filthy whore! Who gave you the...ugh!"

Alto didn’t get a chance to curse a few more words.

First, a pair of shackles made of blue metal was already hanging on his hands.

The close contact with Demon-Blocking Gold made him suddenly feel like a common man entering a teleportation portal, uncomfortable to the point of struggling to stand steadily.

Secondly, Keira Metz punched him in the face, her fist adorned with a brass knuckle.

And behind them, in a single garment, looking like he had just risen from the bed’s entanglement and was preparing for a nighttime pee, Geralt was held at spearpoint against his chest and prudently chose not to move.

He had an obvious look of an ’innocent intruder’.

Having just decisively dealt with Alto, Keira was now in a dilemma facing Geralt, who had suddenly barged into the scene.

After exchanging a few words with another male mage who rushed over, there seemed to be an emergency elsewhere, so she simply left Geralt to the Redanian soldiers, only instructing them to ’watch him’, and hurriedly left.

"They are really nervous, aren’t they?"

Dikoschek, who had previously chatted with this Demon Hunter at a banquet, commented to Geralt in a relaxed tone.

"It’s just inexperience, nothing else. Coups and rebellions are like beetroot soup, best served cold."

"Dikoschek, this isn’t beetroot soup, what’s going on? What happened? I’m completely confused."

Geralt, his body held still by the spear against his chest, only motioned with his chin towards the blood that had been punched out of Alto just now.

The color of the blood was indeed very much like beetroot soup.

"Before I answer you, you have to answer me first." Dikoschek, looking like someone aiding the mages, seriously stared at Geralt.

"Were you brought in by Yennefer from Wenger Castle? Did she let you out here? What is she doing now?"

"No, I just wanted to go to the bathroom, but I didn’t want to pee in the dormitory flowerpot. Yennefer was very satisfied last night, she’s still sleeping...I thought someone like you should know everyone’s intelligence information."

Geralt spoke in a calm voice void of emotional fluctuations, as if the spear tip pressing against his chest through only a shirt did not exist.

"I don’t know her! Her position and actions, that’s why I’m uneasy, Geralt! Don’t you understand yet?"

Dikoschek shoved the spear aside and spoke coldly to Geralt.

"You fool! The wizards loyal to the kings and acting upright haven’t even been to bed tonight! They’ve been running around all night, preparing, while only those traitors bought by Niflgaard are still hiding under the covers!"

"Because those traitors need to conserve their strength! Because soon they will launch a rebellion during the meeting! But they don’t know, we have already intercepted the intelligence! We’ve prepared!"

"As you can see, they will be dragged out of bed tonight, then handcuffed with Demon-Blocking Gold shackles and beaten to the ground with brass knuckles!"

"We’ve struck first, those traitors are finished! If you don’t want to end up like them, don’t play tricks, tell me! What is Yennefer’s stance? Has she been in contact with the Southerners? Has she privately negotiated with Viggo Fortez?"

Geralt listened to Dikoschek’s words, now with nothing to conceal, nodding occasionally, yet still showing no signs of emotional tension.

"So, you’ve heard." Facing Dikoschek who leaned in, scrutinizing him, Geralt casually shrugged while looking over his shoulder down the unlit corridor. "That’s what they said."

The other Redanian soldiers didn’t understand, but Dikoschek, who was right in front of Geralt, had his ruddy face full of fleshy bulk turn pale almost instantly.

In the darkness, a silhouette no longer controlling its breathing and footsteps, hence standing out with massive presence and power, slowly approached them.

"Who?!"

"Don’t move! Nobody...!"

"Bang!!!"

A series of sounds almost crowded together!

The Redanian soldiers’ vigilant questioning, Dikoschek’s urgent orders, and finally, that crisp and neat thud!