The Divine Hunter

Chapter 541: Chain Reaction

[TL: Asuka

[PR: Ash]

“The prophecy of Ithlinne describes the bloodline of your family in detail, Your Majesty.” The light from the candelabra on the table shone upon Yennefer, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure you have heard of it.”

“There are dozens of versions of the prophecy, and it is included in Encyclopedia Maxima Mundi, which is an ongoing work. Humans, elves, dwarves, and gnomes know about it.” Bran stroked his beard. He lowered his voice. “Ithlinne accurately prophesied the decline of the elves and the war that just happened.”

“I do not think anything related to bloodline would be pretty, yes?” Mousesack looked at Ciri and Calanthe, concern flitting in his eyes. “The Elder Blood is the blood of the cursed, and it’s involved with something regarding the end of days.”

Curse? The end of days? Calanthe shook her head. Eist came to know of the Elder Blood that flowed within the royal family because he witnessed the power Pavetta possessed during the selection dinner. He refused to sire a child with Calanthe, thinking that this power would be incompatible with the explosive nature of a Skelliger.

He only agreed to sire a child when the kingdom was facing its imminent doom, and Calanthe’s fervent requests helped. She did not expect her daughters and granddaughters to all carry the Elder Blood, nor did she expect them not to be allowed to come in contact with each other.

She blanched, fear welling within her heart. I lost my kingdom, two husbands, a daughter, and the whole royal family, and that’s without the blood of the cursed. What will become of Ciri and my child, then?

“You do not have to worry, Your Majesty. Prophecies are but foretelling of one possibility of many futures.” Yennefer shot everyone a look of reassurance. “And humans can always strive for a better future. I have always believed that we can control and use the power of blood for our own good.

“We’re all born as crying, helpless infants, but we, by instinct, learned to walk. Much like walking, the Elder Blood is something akin to instinct. Ciri and your child have just awakened the power. Like toddlers learning to walk, they will fall and fail. However, should they be given proper guidance and training…” She looked at Ciri. Reminded of her grueling magical training, the young lady put on a scared smile. “They will be able to control their power one day. They will learn to walk, run, and even fly in the end.”

Mousesack looked at Yennefer, and he raised a question. “Yennefer, if I’m not mistaken, you are a student of the arcane arts, and it derives its power from chaos energy that is scattered across the world. You do not possess the Elder Blood, so how can you train them?”

“That is a brilliant question, Mousesack. According to my checkups on Ciri, part of the Elder Blood is made up of mana. She was born to be a sorceress, and I am a student of the arcane arts. That is why I can teach Ciri how to channel that part of her bloodline.”

“So you mean she is a Source?” Mousesack’s hand froze.

Everyone had a concerned look on their faces, and they turned to Ciri, who was furtively gulping down a third glass of blueberry juice, against Calanthe’s orders. Ciri smiled awkwardly, her teeth gleaming blue.

“No!” As if stoked by a poker, Calanthe seized the chair’s armrest and tried to stand up. “I will not hand Ciri or my child to Aretuza. They are of royal bloodline, and I will not allow them to be turned into barren sorceresses.”

“Worry not, Your Majesty.” Yennefer sidled to Calanthe and put her hand on the former queen’s shoulder. Calanthe calmed down. “They do not have to attend the academy. I shall be teaching them on the isles. If I prove insufficient as a teacher, we still have Mousesack.”

The druid nodded and patted Ciri’s head. “The path of nature is intertwined with the application of chaos energy. Come to me should you need any help.”

“Sorceresses are barren not because of the power we possess.” A hint of sadness flickered on Yennefer’s face as she was reminded of a somber memory. “It is because of the cruel and unnecessary arcane modification. I promise that Ciri and the unborn princess will not have that problem.”

Calanthe took a deep breath and eased up a little.

“Under my guidance, they will come to grips with their own power and find their own place in this perilous world.” Yennefer spoke softly, but there was power in her voice. “They will gain enough strength to fend for themselves. To defend their loved ones, and even help you reclaim your kingdom. Ciri’s talent is unmatched. She’ll grow up to be an incredible sorceress, and you should know how instrumental the sorcerers were in the Battle of Sodden Hill.”

“You wish for Ciri to learn the arcane arts and assist me in the reclamation of Cintra?” Calanthe shook her head and turned her attention to the young lady. She might have grown a bit from the adversity, but she was still a cheeky little girl. Calanthe was imagining Ciri standing amongst an army, shooting out fireballs and lightning bolts at the enemy.

And then a hail of arrows came raining down on them, plunging them into danger.

“No!” Calanthe spoke with raw emotions. “The reclamation of Cintra is my responsibility. Mine and mine alone. No one else’s. All I wish is for them to grow up happy.”

Since her granddaughter went missing, Calanthe did a bit of soul searching and had an epiphany. “I do not wish for more.”

“Very well.” Yennefer nodded. She gave Ciri a loving look. “If they learn how to utilize their talents well, regular soldiers can’t even hope to touch them. Even without me by their side, they will be safe.”

A moment of hesitation seized Calanthe, but she asked, “Why do you go so far for Ciri, Yennefer? There must be a reason.”

Crach gulped down some mead. Jealously, he said, “Calanthe, Yennefer shares a close relationship with Geralt, and the white-haired witcher shares a close relationship with Ciri. Law of Surprise, as they say. Yennefer is extendin’ her love to everything her lover cares about.”

“The Law of Surprise again?” Calanthe was a little annoyed, but she was also relieved. Geralt had proved that he was a worthy guardian for Ciri, and destiny was a better bondmaker than blood. n𝓞𝑽𝑬(𝓵𝓑/In

Yenneger held Ciri’s hand and turned her attention to Calanthe. “He’s not the only reason.” Calanthe was reflected in her eyes. “If I hadn’t been modified by the academy and lost my ability to conceive, I would have gotten married and had a daughter as adorable as Ciri.”

Ciri harrumphed. “Yennefer, that’s not what you call me in private. Adorable? You wouldn’t stop calling me an ugly duckling!”

Yennefer was speechless.

“I can’t comment on Ciri’s looks. Everyone’s opinion is different, but she’s definitely a troublemaker,” Bran teased. “She used to spend summers and winters on the isles, and the isles were always lively when she was around pulling her pranks. She turned Birna’s favorite bodice into a fishing net once. She, Hjalmar, and Cerys had the kitchen cook a bighead carp.”

Bran held Birna’s hand and smiled. “Birna almost fainted. She must’ve given you a lot of trouble too.”

Yennefer smiled.

“It’s been a while, Ciri. I see you’ve gained a few pounds. Guess the guys back at the orphanage haven’t started your training yet.” Roy looked at Yennefer and explained, “Yennefer, that portal’s an ability I gained through my mutations. Just leave it at that.” He held the smiling Ciri’s hand and strode to Calanthe.

“How have you been, Your Majesty? Well, I hope.”

“Yes, all thanks to you. Now all I have to do is wait for my child’s birth.” Calanthe extended her hand so the witcher could kiss it.

Roy bowed a little. He held Ciri’s hand in his left and lifted Calanthe’s hand with his right, then he gave it a light kiss.

The moment the three of them had skin contact, the Elder Blood flowing within Roy, Ciri, and the unborn child resonated and triggered a powerful reaction. Yennefer was watching everything. She saw a gigantic surge of chaos energy bursting through the void, swirling around the trio, and a blinding white light flooded out of them, charging into the skies above.

Roy’s medallion was buzzing and shrieking like a sparrow caught in a net.

“No! You have to get away from each other, right now!”

A bolt of lightning flashed through the cloudless skies. Yennefer leapt ahead, but all she caught was air. The rippling space before her refracted the sun’s rays like it was a shattered mirror.

“I am a fool!” Yennefer froze for a long time, and a bitter curl twisted her lips downward. “I should’ve known. He has the power to tell the future and cross space. That witcher possesses the Elder Blood as well! But three of them? Three of them share the same blood?”

Yennefer stared at the empty space before the grave, and she muttered, “Great. How am I going to break this to them?”

***

Darkness as far as the eye could see. Black, gentle darkness, devoid of any light. The trio’s heads were buzzing, and their sight was robbed from them for a moment. A gust of icy gale howled across their skin, cutting through them like iron blades.

A worried Calanthe gasped, “By Freya, where are we? Ciri! Ciri, where are you?”

“I’m here, Grandmother! Roy? Yennefer? Where are you? I’m scared!” Ciri cried.

Ciri and Calthen shivered and huddled closer to Roy for warmth.

“It’s alright. I’m here. I swore I’d protect you, and I’ll take you both back unharmed.” Roy grabbed his collar. First things first. What is this place, and what happened? Was that teleportation?

He focused on his character sheet and was met with a blood-red message.

‘Your Elder Blood resonated with its kin, causing a chain reaction.’

The Elder Blood triggered a chain reaction and transported us to a random place?

Roy had his answer, and his sight was slowly coming back. The first thing he felt was vertigo. They were standing atop a tower nearly a hundred feet tall, the frigid morning air whistling at them. The tower’s roof had a slope of thirty degrees, and it was made of red tiles.

Underneath the tower were rows of houses and rundown alleyways. Scores of human silhouettes as small as ants prowled the streets. Standing behind them was a resplendent castle.

Roy stared as far as possible, and he saw a great ravine cutting through half the city sleeping outside the mountain of refuse. It almost looked like a titanoboa slithering in the wilds, and the witcher felt a familiar feeling snaking into his heart.

“I’ve seen this in the vision the goddess showed me. Maribor. This is Maribor. That ravine is proof of the centipede’s assault.”

“What’s happening, Roy?” Ciri narrowed her eyes. So nervous was the girl, her nails were almost digging into Roy’s flesh.

“It’s alright. This is just a chain reaction triggered by our blood.

“You mean the Elder Blood?” Calanthe held her bulging belly with one hand and the witcher’s arm with the other. She looked down, and her legs buckled. “Yennefer did tell me that I am not to stay in close proximity with Ciri, or it would cause some reaction. What should we do now?”

Already there were people taking notice of the strangers atop the tower. They stopped in their tracks and discussed what was going on.

“Hold my hand,” Roy said, seemingly unfazed, but his heart was thumping nervously. A great weight pushed down on him, and his temples were throbbing. This is where Idarran and the grandmasters are hiding, and we’re standing out like a sore thumb. If they find us…

The sense of danger that pricked Roy’s mind told him that his enemies were right here. He couldn’t leave Calanthe and Ciri behind, so he had to make a desperate play. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Visualize Eist’s grave in your heads and think ‘I want to go there.’”

Roy spoke softly. Calanthe and Ciri closed their eyes.

Roy’s medallion trembled. The space before the trio started to contort, and white light slowly unfurled.

The trio went into the light.

A moment later, a burly man in a grey cloak appeared on top of the tower. He had amber, feral eyes, and they were devoid of any human emotion. The man was as towering as a mountain, and his presence alone was suffocating. “Wave of special energy here just now.”

“And I say you’re overreacting, Arnaghad.” A man with skin as pallid as a corpse and face as gloomy as a dark cloud appeared beside Arnaghad, seemingly out of nowhere. “Time to leave. We do not want to leave the master waiting.”

The man looked at the ravine, his sickly, bulging eyes bloodshot and filled with excitement. “I have a feeling it will become stronger after this experiment. We’ll be one step closer to our goal.”