Chapter 381 - 381: Victor and Orianna

It is said that when people meet, first impressions determine seventy percent of how they will get along. When it comes to negotiations, the importance of the opening words is no less significant.

"Lady Orianna, you have to help me. Otherwise, Dettlaff will attack Beauclair tonight and turn this city into a river of blood." Victor spoke calmly, as though stating an irrefutable truth.

After hearing this opening statement, the higher vampire blinked, settled into the soft sofa, and gestured for the witcher to sit opposite her.

"Your words are certainly alarming, but they don't actually mean much. I've met that little bitch from the City of Golden Towers, that young, proud, pretty little bitch, Yennefer of Vengerberg. Speaking of which, have you slept with her?

"She's not someone to be trifled with. If Dettlaff really attacks the palace, he's more likely to be defeated. Much as I hate to admit it, over the past few centuries humans have made astonishing progress in magic. They're no longer as useless as they once were."

"You don't seem surprised that he wants to attack Toussaint?"

"Of course not. From the moment rumors of the Beast began spreading, I knew Dettlaff was responsible. I went to speak with him myself, and I also learned that he was being threatened because of his lover. But he forbade anyone else from interfering, so there was nothing I could do. Whoever was threatening him apparently imposed quite a few restrictions."

As she spoke, Orianna casually crossed her left leg, revealing a short stretch of calf wrapped in a black silk stocking.

"I heard the mastermind behind everything was successfully uncovered a few days ago. Were you unable to rescue his lover? No wonder he's unhappy... Just let him kill a few people to vent his anger and it'll be over.

"He's an exceptionally restrained member of our kind. Centuries ago, before Regis turned over a new leaf, back when he was still a bad boy who adored drinking blood, Dettlaff had already completely overcome his addiction. Young witcher, you don't need to worry about slaughter going to his head."

Victor picked up his wine and drained it in one gulp.

"I've met Dettlaff too. I believe that if he'd simply lost his lover, he might not necessarily take his anger out on everyone else.

"The problem is that the person who threatened him was his lover herself, Rhenawedd. And that lady has another identity, Sylvia Anna, the elder princess of the duchy."

Clearly the court had guarded this secret extremely well. Even Orianna was hearing it for the first time. Once she pieced together the cause and effect, an utterly incredulous expression flashed across her face.

"Damn it, how could she dare do something like that! Dettlaff is going to lose his mind! Gods only know how much he loves that woman...

"Ha, ha, ha. Things have become rather more serious, haven't they? But they're still under control.

"Ever since Khagmar's bloody massacres centuries ago, every higher vampire has understood that large-scale slaughter is strictly forbidden.

"It's an unwritten law among us. Even Dettlaff wouldn't dare violate such a taboo unless he wanted to be imprisoned in Tesham Mutna and enjoy a few centuries behind bars."

Victor planted both hands on the table, interlaced his fingers before his face, and fixed Orianna with the deep gaze of his Blue Rinnegan.

"What if he doesn't do the killing himself, but instead summons countless lesser vampires to do it for him?"

"A Herd Instinct? That trait is extraordinarily rare. Only a tiny number of vampires possess it. Doing that really could allow him to avoid punishment, but how can you be certain Dettlaff is capable of it?"

"Didn't I just tell you? I might not fit the usual definition, but I truly am a prophet. I know many things I should have no way of knowing. I'm not joking."

Orianna slowly rose, took a bottle of '70 Lafite from the wine cabinet, returned, and refilled both her own glass and Victor's.

"Viscount Corion, I've always been rather fond of the wine you produce. Can you guarantee the quality of this year's Lafite?"

"Of course. Once the '71 Lafite is finished, I'll have two barrels of the new vintage delivered to you."

The higher vampire smiled sweetly.

"Whether you're truly a prophet or not, you've presented a rare possibility, and I have no way to refute your argument. So, what exactly do you want me to help you with?

"I'll warn you first. If Dettlaff wants to hide, I won't be able to find him. Why don't you try asking Regis for help? He can communicate with ravens, assuming he really is your friend."

"First, I need you to confirm something for me. Is Regis still alive? As another higher vampire, can you be certain of that?"

"He's definitely alive. If Regis had died, a certain being would have sensed it through our shared bloodline. Word would have traveled on the wind to every vampire that someone had committed the crime of killing one of our own, and every member of our kind would be obliged to hunt down the culprit. I've heard nothing of the sort, therefore Regis is unquestionably still alive."

"Good. Regis already knew everything I've just told you. I explained all of this to him half a month ago, and his faith in me is considerably stronger than yours.

"It was precisely because he believed in the future I foresaw that he remained at the Rocking Horse toy shop to wait for Dettlaff. Now he's vanished. There's only one place I can imagine where he could be imprisoned so completely that he's unable to warn me about how badly things have deteriorated."

Orianna raised an eyebrow. From Victor's hint, she too guessed where Regis must be.

"I see! But I truly can't find Dettlaff. We're equals!"

"The Unseen Elder!"

At those words, the lady's hand froze in midair as she raised her wineglass, then began to tremble slightly.

Victor continued in an even voice.

"As far as I know, an ancient higher vampire lives nearby. Toussaint lies within his domain. He possesses both the authority and the power to command any vampire of the Gharasham tribe to appear wherever he wishes, and no vampire can refuse his summons."

Bang!

Orianna slammed her wineglass onto the table.

"You're trying to get yourself killed. Believe me, the instant you see him, you will die."

The fear inspired by those words caused Orianna's usual composure to slip slightly.

"Listen carefully. I will absolutely not help you with this. Unless there is no other possible choice, I will never go see him!

"And that damned Regis! I can't believe he would tell you something this secret. When I see him again, I'm going to give him the scolding of his life!"

"You misunderstand. He never told me anything about the Elder. I know because I can see the future!"

"Hahahahaha!"

Orianna burst into hysterical laughter.

"As far as I know, aside from higher vampires, no other living creature has ever seen the Unseen Elder and survived. So tell me what he looks like, since you're supposedly such a prophet!"

The moment she finished speaking, Victor answered.

"He lies within the darkness, an ancient vampire guarding a mysterious gateway while waiting for the next Conjunction of the Spheres.

"His voice is slow and hoarse. Every word seems painful for him to speak. He looks like a creature reduced to skin and bones, self-mutilated and terminally ill, but in truth, all he needs to do is utter a single sentence to paralyze another vampire on the spot."

Orianna's laughter stopped abruptly.

Her eyes filled with fear, as though Victor's vivid description had allowed her to see the Unseen Elder standing before her with her own eyes.

"No... Regis would never have the courage to describe that being. You really can see..."

Her voice was filled with disbelief.

"So Dettlaff really is going to summon an army of vampires tonight..."

After a moment of silence, Orianna abruptly rose, walked over to a wardrobe, and opened it. Sharp claws flashed, effortlessly tearing the exquisite dress from her body and leaving her crystalline, snow-white figure completely bare.

There was the high and full thumb, the pert and rounded index finger, the soft pink middle finger, the firm and smooth ring finger, and the little finger covered in dense, fragrant grass...

The witcher employed his extraordinary vision, meticulously searching every inch of the higher vampire's body for a weakness. Unfortunately, he found nothing.

Without the slightest concern, she changed into traveling clothes, black underlayer trousers, a purple undergarment and outer shirt, then finally draped a brown cloak over herself.

Once she finished changing, the higher vampire took out a stone, walked over to the witcher, and placed it on the table.

"You really are an irritating man, bringing me such terrible news and putting me in such a foul mood. Still, I should thank you for warning me.

"If you're determined to go and get yourself killed, then I can at least tell you where to look. Cross the lake west of the city, then search the hillside for a secluded cave. This stone can open the hidden entrance."

As she explained, Orianna leaned extremely close, the scent of red wine on her breath brushing across Victor's face.

"Free of charge. The moment you see him, immediately genuflect and give the greeting, 'eclthi, lautni ama,' then place a Haakland aragonite crystal on the ground as an offering.

"Only after completing those steps will you have even the slightest chance of speaking with the Unseen Elder. But for the gods' sake, keep it brief. Do not waste a single word."

With that, the higher vampire turned to leave.

The witcher hurriedly called after her.

"But I don't have that damned crystal!"

"Then go die."

She gave him a sweet smile.

"Forgive me for leaving early. My children need their mother's protection now.

"Farewell, Sir Corion! Or perhaps, farewell forever!"

Orianna slammed the door behind her and disappeared into the distance.

Victor remained alone in the room, staring at the stone key lying on the table, silent for a very long time.

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