The Divine Hunter

Roy stepped past the puddle of blood, leaving the corpses behind him. He went to the second floor and made his way to the room where the screams came from.

The young witcher knocked on the door.

“Blair? Is that you? Just give me a minute. I’m doing it.”

Roy knocked on the door harder.

“Stop knocking, you bastard! You wanna die? I’ll skin you alive!” someone cursed. Roy heard hurried footsteps approaching the door.

The man within opened it, revealing a young man. It was Whoreson Junior, an infamously perverted psychopath. He wasn’t even twenty yet. He had blond, greasy hair and blue, bloodshot eyes. He got his nose and lips from his father.

The young man was gaunt. He wasn’t wearing any shirt. There was nothing but skin and bones on him. It felt like the boy’s growth was stunted.

His temper was as short as him as well. His face was scrunched up, and the boy kept cursing. “Don’t you know the rules around here, you son of a bitch? You don’t disturb me when I’m having fu—” Cyprian halted abruptly. He had a confused look on his face. “No. Wait. Wh-Who are you?”

The stranger outside was a lean, handsome man. He was at least ten times more good-looking than the burly guys in the gang. And his golden eyes… That eerie red light behind him… And his bloodstained sword… Cyprian gasped, and his eyes twitched.

“I’m just here to take out the trash.” The witcher lashed out at Cyprian’s belly. He flew through the air and fell with a sickening crunch. Cyprian held his stomach as he howled in agony.

Roy strode into the room, sword in hand. He looked around, and what he saw was… startling.

The room was luxuriously decorated, and a gigantic bed sat conspicuously in the center of it. A dressing table stood beside it, and it was filled with every kind of torture tool available. Tweezers, scalpels, steel needles, and even whips.

There was someone on the bed, her face buried in the sheets. She was naked, her back covered in whip marks and signs of torture. The witcher could see that she was not breathing anymore. Obviously, she endured a great deal of torture before she died.

“He’s ten years younger, but still as insane as he grows up to be, but this is the last time he’ll be laying his hands on anyone.”

Roy’s eyes glinted with resolve. He swung his blade around, getting ready to cut this menace down before it could grow up.

“Please don’t kill me! I-I’ll let you in on something!” Whoreson Junior roared in a last ditch attempt to save his skin.

Only moments had passed since the bloodstained stranger barged into his room, but Cyprian knew what must have happened. If he got this far, then everyone’s dead. Including Father! And then he remembered something. He heard faint screams coming from outside a while ago, but he was too excited to care. Now the truth finally dawned on him.

It was unbelievable, but that was the reality he was facing. Death was drawing near, but he refused to die. I haven’t had enough of their screams. I don’t want to die just like this.

Roy’s blade stopped one millimeter away from Whoreson Junior’s throat. It drew blood, but that was it.

Before Cyprian brought that ‘secret’ up, all Roy wanted to do was cut this canker down before it could infect Novigrad deeper. He never wanted any treasure, but things changed a little when Cyprian brought it up.

The Vipers needed coins, and Alonso must have a mountain of it. He ruled one of the Big Four for decades, after all.

He’s not moving. I-Is he sparing my life? “Ahem, sir… Good sir, you… you killed Alonso, didn’t you?” He put his hands together in a prayer and groveled before Roy. He pleaded, “I know where he hides his treasure, an-and I can take you to it. I-It’s in a secret chamber. Coins, jewelry, artifacts… He had everything. You’d be set for life! Please… just let me go.”

“So you can get back at me?” Roy cocked his eyebrow.

“No, no! I won’t sir! Believe me! Alonso deserved it!” Cyprian looked horrified. He actually started cursing his own dead father. “I’ve waited for this day my whole life! I would have skinned him alive if I could! He was a demon! A demon! Look, look at this! He did this to me!”

Cyprian turned around and showed his back. It was grotesque, to say the least. His back was filled with scars, swellings, and scabs from all the lashings his father gave him. “That arse tortured me every single day. And just because of some random reason! If he was upset, he’d take it out on me. If he was happy, he’d take it out on me! And whenever he felt like it, he would just take it out on me!”

Roy was a little surprised. Like father, like son. Alonso was a ruler. He had everything he could want, and yet he subjected his only family to hell. Perhaps Cyprian grew up to be an evil piece of scum partly because of what Alonso did to him.

Cyprian heaved a sigh of relief. Good, he’s looking calmer now. He tried to force a smile, but it only looked like a grimace. He tried his best to ingratiate himself with Roy. “You killed a sworn enemy of mine, and for that, I’m grateful. I would never try to hurt you. If you would love to, then I, Cyprian Wiley, shall be your most humble servant. I shall quell any and all obstacles for you.”

Still not enough to justify what you did, Whoreson. “Sorry. I’m going to the chamber and taking all the treasure anyway. And as for you…”

Roy shook his head. He glanced at the corpse on the bed and made a sign in the air. Axii worked its magic and froze Cyprian in place. The light in his eyes dimmed as he turned into a puppet that would answer any questions Roy had for him.

Roy started questioning Cyprian, and he answered stiffly. Two minutes later, Roy had gotten all the answers he wanted. He thrusted his sword forward, and it pierced through his eye easily before turning his brain into literal mush.

Roy found the hardcover book on the bookshelf and turned it around once. A keyhole showed up on the left side of the wall. He then inserted the key he took from the warm, dead body of Alonso.

And then he turned it.

The contraption was released, and the walls slowly moved sideways, revealing a claustrophobic chamber behind it. There were three treasure crates in it. One was filled with crowns, one with jewelry and gold, and the last with ancient books.

“Sapphires, diamonds, fluorites, and even spinels! Each of these costs at least fifty crowns.” Auckes held up a clear ruby the size of his fist in awe. “No woman can resist a gemstone this big. Those sorceresses are gonna be really happy if they have one of these. Bet they’ll go on a really long date with the guy who gave them this. It’s yours now, Roy.”

“What? Why?” Roy froze up for a moment. He was a bit confused.

“You’re gonna make Lytta a very happy woman with that. And take this too.” Auckes tossed a gorgeous pearl necklace to Roy. Every pearl was the size of Roy’s pinky tip.

The young witcher glared at Auckes, but he tucked the necklace into his inventory anyway, then he fiddled with the books. “Winter… The Adversities of Loving… These are all poem anthologies, and all of them are handwritten. Out of print as well. He actually valued these as much as jewelry? Alonso was a poet at heart, I guess.”

Letho, Serrit, and Felix were fiddling with the crate of crowns. The obscene amount surprised even the veteran witchers.

“Fellas, we just struck it big. This is about two or three hundred pounds heavy. There’s at least ten thousand crowns in it. If we exchange the gold and jewelry into coins, factoring in their worth according to Novigrad’s market value… we’re looking at at least…” Serrit rubbed his chin and made the calculations in his head. “Thirty thousand crowns. At the very least.”

Most witchers would have to work a few decades to make that kind of money. Thirty thousand crowns was enough to set a civilian up for life.

“This is one hell of a quick way to make money.”

“With all these crowns, who cares about a house?” Auckes’ breathing got heavier, and his eyes gleamed even brighter than the gold. He swung his hand down and announced, “We can buy a whole castle in Kovir! No! A whole piece of land for our new base!”

“Alright, snap out of it, you big oaf.” Serrit smacked Auckes’ cheek. “We gotta share the earnings with Felix too.”

“We can talk about it later.” Felix calmed his slightly ragged breathing. “I’ll just take two thousand crowns and no more.”

He was just planning on helping for free. The witcher did have a debt he had to repay. Still, this amount of coins was tempting, and Carl needed a lot of money for his Trial.

“We don’t deny our comrades their fair share,” Letho said. “Two thousand crowns is too little to be considered a fair share. We’re splitting them evenly, and that’s final.”

“Felix, if it’s fine with you…” The Vipers exchanged a look. “Roy and I will be keeping all these for a while, or it’s gonna be hard to take everything with us.”

“Very well.”

Roy tucked the gold and jewelry into his inventory space, while Letho tucked the crowns into his ring. Auckes picked the most lovable poem anthology from the stack and left everything else untouched.

The witchers came back out and locked the chamber up. It was a happy day for them.

I wonder if they’d have gone mad if they found nothing but poem anthologies in a chamber thought to be filled with treasure.

***

Roy thought it was regrettable though. The wealth hidden in this chamber was not even a tenth of what Alonso allegedly had. At least according to Cyprian’s testimony. Alonso knew he couldn’t put all his eggs in one basket. Most of his wealth was hidden somewhere else, and he never told Cyprian about it.

A big part of it was laundered and deposited into Novigrad’s Vivaldi. It was about ten thousand crowns. The interest on that alone was sizable.

With the empire setting up military camps in Amell, the Northern Kingdoms’ economy was predicted to take a hit in the future. As a free trade city and the most economically advanced city in the north, the crowns made in Novigrad held the highest value. It was a safe choice to deposit them in a bank and get some interest on them.

It was a shame the witchers couldn’t have them. Only Alonso himself could withdraw all that money.

“I guess I should be content. I paid them back for what they did to my family and made a whole lot of money. The question is how should I spend the coins now?”

Roy was contemplating that question as he followed the other witchers out of the yard and into the rain.

***

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