Chapter 92: A Very Unwilling Vacation

A brilliant green rift tore through the dark forest canopy, violently dropping Ciri and Rudra onto the damp moss below before snapping shut.

Ciri scrambled to her feet, her sword drawn in a breath, chest heaving as her eyes darted through the shadowy trees. Silence answered her.

She lowered her blade and let out a long, shuddering sigh. "Looks like we lost them..."

"You’ve got to be kidding me."

Ciri turned. Rudra was sitting on a nearby boulder, arms crossed, staring at her with deadpan annoyance.

Her jaw tightened. "Excuse me? A simple ’thank you’ usually comes first when someone saves your life."

"Saving my life?" Rudra repeated flatly. "You kidnapped me. I was on my way to the train station, minding my own business, and now I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere."

"Those riders were going to slaughter you just for standing near me!" Ciri snapped, her eyes flashing. "I risked my neck to—"

The air plunged to sub-zero in a fraction of a second. Frost raced across the bark of the surrounding trees, and the screeching hiss of a Wild Hunt portal split the woods. Heavy, spiked iron boots struck frozen dirt just twenty yards away.

"See?!" Ciri pointed at the emerging skeletal riders, grabbed Rudra’s wrist, and yanked him off the rock. "From them!"

She bolted into the thicket, dragging him behind her.

Why am I getting pulled around like a sack of potatoes? Rudra thought, glancing back over his shoulder at the oncoming ice-clad knights.

They looked like overgrown statues. If those tin cans tried anything, he could pulverize them with a flick of his wrist. Yet here he was, getting dragged through an unknown world by a woman convinced he was a helpless civilian.

"This is hilarious," the System chimed in his mind, practically cackling. "The mighty interdimensional traveler, reduced to a damsel in distress."

Shut up, Rudra grumbled internally, letting himself be pulled along purely out of curiosity to see where this mess was heading.

By the time they finally lost the Hunt, the dense canopy had given way to the murky, fog-draped squalor of a swamp.

Ciri bent over, hands on her knees, gasping for air. Sweat glistened on her forehead, her legs trembling from the miles-long sprint. She sucked in a breath and forced herself to look up at Rudra.

He stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, calmly surveying the dismal marsh. Not a bead of sweat. Not a heavy breath. He looked as though he’d just stepped out for a casual morning walk.

Ciri blinked. "Are you... not tired at all?"

Rudra shrugged. "I do a lot of cardio."

A dry chuckle escaped her as she straightened up, shaking her head. "Understatement of the year."

"Right. Well, now that we’ve lost the ice statues, mind opening that portal again and sending me back?"

Ciri’s expression dimmed, guilt creeping into her eyes. "I can’t. Opening a rift now gives off a massive energy spike. Eredin’s trackers would lock onto it instantly, and we’d land right back in their laps."

"Figures," Rudra muttered, ready to summon Yamato, cut space, and walk back home on his own terms.

"Look..." Ciri’s voice softened, genuinely contrite. "I’m sorry. I dragged you into this because I couldn’t let them kill you. Just give me time to lose them and sort a few things out. Once the trail is cold, I’ll take you home safely. Until then... stay close. I won’t let anything happen to you."

She meant every word. To her, he was just an innocent civilian who had the misfortune of standing near the Lady of Space and Time.

Rudra stopped his power from manifesting, relaxing his arm back under his cloak.

"Why the rush?" the System chimed in his mind, tone impossibly cheerful. "You’re in a whole new world. Isn’t the Witcher universe one of your favorites?"

How do you know that? Rudra thought back.

"Minor details. Point is: take a vacation! Live a little."

Rudra looked at Ciri—sweat-streaked, exhausted, yet fiercely determined to shield him. It was almost entertaining.

Fine, he conceded internally.

He stepped forward and held out his left hand, leaving his right arm tucked safely out of view. A faint smirk touched his lips.

"Alright, ashen-hair," Rudra said smoothly. "Lead the way."

Ciri exhaled a sigh of relief, a small smile breaking through her fatigue as she shook his hand. "Deal."

They began picking their way through the knee-deep mud and low-hanging fog, the sour stench of stagnant water thick in the air.

"So, where to?" Rudra asked, stepping cleanly over a rotting log.

"Crookback Bog," Ciri said, adjusting her sword scabbard. "I need to meet the Crones. They’re... unpleasant, but they see everything in these lands."

Rudra offered a brief nod and kept walking, asking nothing more.

Ciri glanced at him in silent surprise. Most people turned pale or panicked at the mention of swamp witches, yet he acted like they were dropping by a local tavern. Either he’s recklessly brave, she thought, or he has no idea what we’re walking into, unaware that Rudra already knew precisely who and what the Crones were.

Before they could venture deeper, Ciri froze. A low, wet gurgling echoed through the tall reeds.

She extended an arm across Rudra’s chest. "Behind me," she whispered, her voice dropping into a sharp, lethal hush.

Rudra casually took a step back as Ciri drew her steel blade with a clean shing.

Four bloated, waterlogged drowners erupted from the murky water, black claws snapping in a feral screech.

Ciri exploded into motion.

The lead drowner lunged for her throat. She pirouetted to the left, letting its claws graze empty air, and brought her sword around in a silver arc—severing its arm and opening its chest in a spray of dark blood.

As the second monster pounced from her flank, emerald light flickered around her feet.

She blinked through space, reappearing directly above the beast, and drove her blade straight through its skull into the muddy earth. Using the momentum, she channeled a quick burst of space-time energy off its chest to vault backward, ripping her sword free in the process.

The remaining two drowners rushed her at once. Ciri ducked a wild swipe, sliced low across the legs of the first, and vanished into another green rift.

A millisecond later, she materialized behind the last drowner. A single, blinding cross-cut sheared its head clean off before the body hit the water.

In seconds, it was over.

Breathing heavily, Ciri flicked the blood off her blade and sheathed it. She turned around, expecting to find her companion pale and shaken.

Instead, Rudra was examining a strange mushroom on a nearby tree trunk. Realizing the noise had stopped, he turned back and offered a lazy thumbs-up. "Nice work."

A proud smirk broke across Ciri’s face as she crossed her arms. "Told you I’d keep you safe. When danger pops up, just stay back and let me handle it."

Rudra nodded easily. "You got it, boss."

Amused, Ciri turned back toward the path, leading them deeper into the gloom.

By nightfall, the fog thinned to reveal a small clearing. Nestled in the marsh sat a secluded hamlet—three rickety wooden huts with moss-draped roofs.

Ciri stopped at the treeline. "Stay here for a minute. Let me talk to the locals first."

Rudra gave a careless wave of his hand, leaning back against a fence post as she vanished into the largest hut. A few minutes later, the door creaked open and Ciri emerged, gesturing for him to follow.

"They’ve agreed to help," Ciri explained in a hushed tone as she led him toward a smaller, empty cottage nearby. "The Crones said we can rest here for the night. Tomorrow, we negotiate the information I came for."

She pushed open the door to reveal a dusty, cramped room with a single straw-stuffed bed tucked against the far wall.

Ciri glanced at the lone bed, then at the hard wooden floor. Shifting her weight, she turned to Rudra, intending to be generous. "Look, since you’ve been dragged through hell today, you can take the—"

Before she could even finish her sentence, Rudra walked straight past her, kicked off his boots, and collapsed onto the mattress. He pulled the rough blanket up to his chest, rolled over with his back facing her, and instantly closed his eyes.

Within three seconds, his breathing evened out into a deep, steady rhythm.

Ciri stood frozen in the doorway, her mouth half-open.

Did he really just...?

She stared at his back in absolute disbelief. Was this usually the part where the gentleman insisted the lady take the bed? Or at least offered to split it?

Unbelievable, Ciri thought, shaking her head as a faint, exasperated laugh escaped her lips. Then again, I did kidnap him from his world and drag him through a swamp. Guess I can’t complain too much.

Sighing at her self-inflicted fate, Ciri grabbed a spare blanket resting on a chair, dusted off a section of the wooden floorboards, and settled down. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day finally pull her into sleep.