Chapter 402 - 402: Six Women and Victor Part 3

A short while passed.

Happy times were always fleeting.

There was a faint chill in the air with winter just beginning, and after working up a sweat from their exercise, Victor pulled the quilt over Syanna to keep her from catching cold before getting up and dressing himself.

"You really are a monster! Your body only just recovered from such serious injuries..." The princess lay languidly on the bed, unwilling to move so much as a finger.

Victor felt there was no good way to answer that. Some answers were better understood without being spoken, so the witcher merely shrugged and responded with body language.

Seeing this, she chuckled happily.

"What are you planning to do with Corvo Bianco? Are you going to rename it Corion too? And where will you mainly live from now on?"

"Why are you asking?" he replied instinctively, though it was hardly a secret. "I'll probably continue using Corion Manor as my main residence. Corvo Bianco will keep its name and serve as a second estate. For now, I'll hire capable people to manage it.

"My current steward, Alfred Futi, has recommended his cousin Barnabas-Basil Foulty to me several times. Supposedly, he's the finest majordomo of the younger generation of the Foulty family. I'm planning to give him a chance as an apprentice."

After Victor finished speaking, he noticed there was no response.

Turning around, he discovered that Syanna had already fallen asleep from exhaustion, with a trace of liquid still lingering at the corner of her mouth.

Like a gentleman, he took out a handkerchief and wiped it clean for her before leaving the playroom with a smile.

...

Warm winter sunlight shone overhead as crimson maple leaves drifted down one after another.

The witcher was now in a peaceful mood, feeling almost like a sage.

It was already nearing evening, yet the banquet was still going strong. He walked lightly down the White Stone walkway, preparing to return to the festivities, when he suddenly heard someone calling to him from a nearby pavilion.

"Victor Corion, the great hero of our Night of Long Fangs. You've been missing from your own victory banquet for quite some time. Just where have you been hiding?"

The speaker was Yennefer of Vengerberg.

The exquisitely beautiful woman was once again dressed in black and white, while the star-shaped obsidian amulet around her neck glittered in the light.

Running into her here was rather surprising. After all, very few people normally passed through this section leading toward the playroom.

Victor's first thought was whether she had discovered what he had just been doing.

Fortunately, judging by her expression, she probably had no idea.

Of course, even if she did know, it did not really matter.

Some things were simply like that. As long as you yourself were not embarrassed, everyone else was left with nothing to say.

So Victor calmly entered the pavilion, took the right hand Yennefer extended toward him, and kissed it in greeting, the sorceress's favorite form of courtesy.

"It's hardly surprising you couldn't find me. This is Toussaint's first great celebration since the disaster, and practically everyone of any standing in the duchy is attending. From what I understand, this delightful gathering is supposed to continue until late tonight."

Yennefer blinked.

"I take back what I said before about you resembling a certain someone. You and that man are completely different.

"He would absolutely despise an occasion filled with this much tedious ceremony. Even putting on a reasonably well-fitting formal outfit would make him uncomfortable all over, while you clearly thrive in situations like this.

"And look at that outfit. The cut really is unusual. Did you design it yourself?"

Victor casually brushed off his shoulder.

"I respect Geralt's personality. He has his own unique charm, and I believe Lady Yennefer understands that better than anyone."

Although no one had ever explicitly confirmed it, Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer of Vengerberg had respectively taken on the roles of adoptive father and mother to Ciri, while the two of them had long been entangled in their own complicated mixture of love and resentment.

So by mentioning his own close relationship with the White Wolf and Ciri, Victor was subtly warning her that regardless of whether she had stopped him with good intentions or bad ones, she ought to restrain herself somewhat for their sake.

Yennefer scoffed at his verbal maneuvering.

"I only wanted to talk before I leave. There's no need to be so guarded. Syanna doesn't like me, so I'll soon be leaving Beauclair and returning south to Nilfgaard."

"Is that so? Then I wish you a pleasant journey. As for why the princess dislikes you, isn't that obvious? Even though she knew it was the optimal solution and had mentally prepared herself to be sacrificed, she still finds it difficult to forgive someone who deliberately plotted to betray her."

The witcher patted one of the pavilion's redwood pillars.

The sorceress crossed her arms over her chest.

"That's precisely what I find interesting.

"After all, that day you originally intended to send her to her death as well. What made you change your mind? And who gave you the courage to challenge a higher vampire? More astonishing still, you actually won in the end!"

Victor remained silent, sweeping his hair back with one hand.

"I can't help wondering whether you foresaw that outcome. Did you perhaps see a future in which you won while traveling toward Tesham Mutna, causing you to change your decision?"

Regarding Yennefer's question, Victor knew perfectly well that there had been no so-called "vision of victory."

During the half month he had spent recovering, he had naturally reflected upon where that irrational impulse had come from, but unfortunately, he had never found a definite answer.

If he really had to explain it, it had simply been the environment and atmosphere at the time.

The night had been too beautiful, too gentle.

And in that brief instant, it had made him feel that things should not end that way.

Nothing more than compassion for a lady.

Blame it on the moon.

Trying to analyze just how courageous his decision had been, or whether it represented some lofty spirit of self-sacrifice, would accomplish nothing as far as he was concerned.

Besides, that night had brought him an unexpected benefit.

Through the spiritual tempering brought about by his "resolve," Miraculous Alchemy had officially stepped into the master realm, bringing him another step closer to becoming an all-capable grandmaster.

Since the outcome had been good, there was no need to scrutinize the process.

The witcher exhaled slowly and slapped his thigh.

"As for whether prophecy influenced my choice, I won't give you a definite answer. Perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't.

"Besides, even if I told you it was true, you'd still question whether my prophetic foresight was genuine. A sorceress as intelligent as you would probably only begin to believe me once the Burning Omen actually starts coming true."

Hearing his answer and realizing that yet another probe had been seen through, a shadow crossed the sorceress's brilliant features.

But when Ciri was involved, she could not simply ignore his words.

She had to consider how much of what he said was true and how much was false.

"When Whoreson dies, Temeria burns, and the White Wolf awakens, the Elder Blood shall return to this world."

Victor softly recited the Burning Omen.

"Because it's you, Yennefer, I'll explain it clearly for once. The prophecy is gradually coming true anyway.

"Whoreson Junior died last year. Geralt, the White Wolf, will soon recover his lost memories. And under the invasion of the Black Ones, it won't be long before all of Temeria collapses and burns in the fires of war.

"So my estimate is that within six months at most, Ciri will return from another world."

His absolute certainty and relaxed manner made it sound completely genuine, leaving Yennefer increasingly conflicted.

She bit her lower lip.

"Suppose... and this is only a supposition. Suppose you really are Ciri's younger brother. Then you should understand my relationship with her. Setting aside all those prophecies you've already announced publicly, is there anything you can tell me privately?"

Yennefer's attitude was exceptionally gentle.

She did not resemble a sorceress at all, but rather a kind and caring elder.

If Victor had not understood exactly what kind of person she was through his memories of his previous life, she could easily have coaxed everything he knew out of him.

But now, Victor merely rubbed the faint stubble along his chin.

"Lady Yennefer, the events of the Night of Long Fangs taught me an important lesson. Sometimes knowing the future doesn't necessarily mean you can change it. Sometimes information leaking out is precisely what causes the nightmare to become reality, while accomplishing nothing except adding an unnecessary psychological burden.

"Because of that, I've decided there are many situations I'll deal with alone.

"To put it plainly, I'm worried that once other people learn what I know, they'll start meddling and make everything worse."

The sorceress clasped her hands together.

"I think you can trust me. We're both Geralt's friends, aren't we?"

"My dear Lady Yennefer, I'm not only Geralt's friend. I'm also a good friend of Lambert, Eskel, Zoltan, and Dandelion.

"Thanks to their sincere warnings, please believe me when I say I possess a thoroughly accurate understanding of your character."

Hearing the mockery in his words, the sorceress fixed the witcher with a fierce glare from her violet eyes.

She looked somewhat dangerous.

Victor, however, remained perfectly calm.

He knew very well that neither her personal interests nor their present circumstances allowed her to resort to extreme measures.

No matter how angry she became, all she could do was glare at him.

And sure enough, after taking several deep breaths, the sorceress turned away without another word.

Just then, however, a certain scene abruptly flashed through the young man's mind, prompting him to call out to her.

"Lady Yennefer, there's one thing directly related to you that I can tell you in advance. When you go to Skellige in the future, don't steal anything from the archdruid Ermion. It won't help you achieve your objective in the slightest."

Yennefer of Vengerberg turned around and raised her middle finger at him.

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