boyutpedia Chapter 81 Triss's Surprise
Chapter 81 Triss's Surprise
Chapter 82 Triss's Surprise
Kingfisher Tavern.
Erwin was engrossed in a pile of papyrus scrolls, his quill pen flying across his fingers as he calculated Novigrad's complex tax rates and profit margins. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he looked up, a glint of light flashing in his eyes behind his glasses.
The door was pushed open, the wind chimes by the door rang once, Ron walked in front, Geralt followed behind him, and between the two was a figure wearing a dark cloak.
Erwin's gaze passed over Ron's shoulder and landed on the hooded figure. The cloak was pulled low, obscuring most of the face, and only the silhouette could be discerned as that of a young woman.
"Ron, the accounts are now complete," Erwin said, closing the ledger in a calm tone.
"Olivier has completed the handover and left Novigrad with his family on the first ship. As for me, I plan to head back to the estate tonight to prepare goods and arrange for the replacement of the manager. The promotion of mead requires a stable supply, which the estate's current production can support, but the transportation frequency needs to be adjusted."
Erwin adjusted his glasses, his tone tinged with inquiry. "But who is this?"
Ron walked straight to the stairwell. "Let's talk upstairs."
In the elegantly decorated guest room on the second floor, Ron gave a concise account of Dixcher's background, the quartermaster who was given as a gift, the disappearance of the vault treasure, news of Dandelion, and the upcoming operation against the witch hunters.
Erwin tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table. "So, Mr. Luwen will be our partner from now on. This will greatly help our plans in Novigrad. Our business will be much less troublesome, and we can also use Count Luwen's connections to penetrate the noble circles more quickly. The profits from mead will at least triple."
"Yes, before we leave, we'll arrange for someone to bring Lu Wen's gift back to the manor. Miko will be very happy."
Triss took off her hood, revealing long red hair and a delicate face. She looked at Ron and Erwin with curiosity.
"Geralt, you haven't introduced this friend to me yet. Who is he? Let me guess, with such a grand gesture, is he the leader of some mercenary group? Or a rolling-rich liquor merchant?"
Geralt leaned back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. "You guessed part of it. He is the lord of Velen, and the liquor and mercenary groups are also part of his business."
"Lord of Velen?" Triss raised an eyebrow, a hint of wariness flashing in her eyes. "A vassal of Nilfgaard? Why would he help us?"
"Being a vassal of Nilfgaard is also part of my identity," Ron said calmly.
"Nominally a vassal of Nilfgaard, but in reality an independent warlord," Geralt corrected.
"Furthermore, he's Kayla Metz's employer and an ally of the Blue Guards. Do you understand now?"
Erwin looked at Triss, as if remembering something. "You are the legendary... Triss Merigold? The fourteenth of the Hill? One of the founding members of the Sorceresses' Guild? Wow, that's a bit unexpected."
"Now she's just a sewer rat wanted by the church everywhere," Triss turned to Ron, her tone more sincere. "So, Kayla's with you? How's she? She didn't blow up your manor, did she?"
"She's fine," Ron replied. "She's engrossed in her research every day, and occasionally steals a few barrels of mead from my cellar under the guise of experiments. She's also taken on a young apprentice, my adopted daughter."
"Kayla's taken on an apprentice?" Triss's eyes widened, a look of amusement on her face. "Wow, I never expected that. Kayla Metz taking on an apprentice, your adopted daughter?"
"A child abandoned because of the war, Kayla discovers she has magical talent."
"Things can change in an instant," Geralt interjected.
"Triss is preparing a plan for the warlocks to escape Novigrad. There are still many mages hiding in various corners of the city. It will take some time to prepare for them to leave the city."
He paused. "Triss, is your current place safe? That couple doesn't seem like good people."
"A couple? Hiding in a resident's house is a bit too risky," Ron interrupted them, looking at Triss.
"Triss, come stay at the Kingfisher Tavern. I'll have the tunnel reinforced and upgraded, and I'll also leave a guard. It's much safer here than your current hideout. Geralt will also stay here while he's in Novigrad."
Triss gave a charming smile. "What else can I say? Do you expect me to politely refuse? Right now, I'd love to have a strong thigh to cling to."
"Ha, if all the warlocks who come to me for help were warlocks of your caliber, I'd be laughing in my sleep."
"Erwin, bring two more standing army squads with you this time. I need to prepare a gift for Mr. Luwen so that he will pay more attention to promoting mead."
Erwin nodded, turned around, pushed open the door, and went downstairs, his footsteps fading into the distance.
Triss followed Ron and Geralt up the wooden stairs to the basement. The cellar was large enough to hold thirty or forty people, and several oil lamps hung from the ceiling, their flames flickering gently overhead.
Ten regular soldiers, clad in finely crafted breastplates made by Brom, covered with chainmail, and with visors pushed up on their foreheads, held long spears and kite-shaped shields at their feet, stood silently in the cellar like a group of cold iron statues.
As Ron appeared, ten soldiers raised their hands in unison, clenching their fists and striking their chest armor. The armor plates vibrated with a synchronized metallic clang. "Commander!"
Triss paused for a moment, instinctively lowering her voice. "Geralt, is this the level of your friend's army? I almost thought I was seeing King Foltest's Royal Guard."
Geralt shook his head slightly, and Triss breathed a sigh of relief, patting her chest. "Oh, that's good. So these must be his most elite soldiers?"
"No," Geralt said calmly, looking at the soldiers.
"What I mean is, these are just his ordinary soldiers, belonging to a unit called the Standing Army. His most elite guard corps didn't come."
I've fought his personal guards before; their swordsmanship is only slightly inferior to mine. I could defeat one, two would be a bit of a struggle, and more than three... I would surely die.
Triss looked at him in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? Even Emhyr's Royal Guards aren't at this level!"
No, I'm serious.
Triss paused for a moment, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Looks like we don't need to worry about Keira's safety anymore. We're living like rats in Novigrad, while she's happily clinging to this powerful figure, teaching apprentices all the time."
Deep inside the cellar was an inconspicuous hidden door. The regular army squad skillfully divided into two groups, adopting a surprise attack formation: pikemen in front, swordsmen and shieldmen protecting the flanks, and crossbowmen bringing up the rear.
The moment the water monsters in the sewers peeked out, they were pinned to the wall by taut crossbow bolts. Occasionally, a few would slip through and get close, only to be pierced by spears and finished off by swordsmen with a single, swift and clean strike.
After the group crossed the main path, Geralt walked at the front, his cat-like pupils slightly dilating in the darkness. He stopped at the end of a dead end, pushed forward with his left hand, and the shockwave of the Aard sign crashed into the wall, shattering the bricks and revealing a dark entrance.