Chapter 412: Rules Are Made to Be Broken
"Your Grace the Duke, this way, please."
Hearing the voice, the prisoners in the front row turned their heads. They saw a young man walking toward them, accompanied by the warden.
The prisoners began to whisper amongst themselves.
"The Duke? That young man is the Duke?"
"What's wrong with his eyes? They look like a cat's."
"That's a witcher."
"I know who he is now! The fall of Rákverellin's gate was the witcher's doing."
"I heard witchers aren't well-regarded by kings and nobles. How could Istrad give a witcher the title of Duke?"
The cacophony of murmuring prisoners sent shivers down the warden's spine. This black-haired young man was currently the most powerful person in Kovir and Poviss. If he managed to anger this lord… The warden didn't dare finish the thought.
"Silence! Shut your mouths, you scum!"
The warden cautiously glanced up at Lynn's face. Thankfully, the Duke showed no great reaction.
"Your Grace, please proceed."
"Indeed."
Lynn nodded and walked up to the platform the jailers had prepared. Facing the crowd below, Lynn met their many stares and began to speak with ease.
"Some of you may know me, and some may not. It matters little. I shall first introduce myself."
"I am Duke Lynn Augustus, and I am the liege you will soon serve."
The crowd erupted in an uproar. The jailers grew tense.
Facing the unruly mob, Lynn showed no alarm. He maintained his smile, and then…
A fan-shaped jet of fire, like an enraged dragon, burst from his palm and shot into the sky. The air twisted and warped from the heat, making an unsettling crackling sound. Although the flame wasn't aimed at the crowd, everyone standing in the courtyard felt the terrifying heat. Had the witcher aimed at them instead of the sky, there would be no outcome other than being reduced to ash.
The crowd was instantly silenced, the commotion stopping entirely.
"I do not like to be interrupted before I have finished speaking. I expect you to remember this point."
Lynn paused deliberately. Seeing no further dissent from below, he continued.
"Now, let us discuss the predicament you currently face."
"I know you are not common criminals. You are mercenaries who chose the wrong side, and that is why you were thrown here and forgotten."
"I also know that this is not entirely your fault. Therefore, I will give you an offer you cannot refuse: Serve me. Swear fealty to me, and fight in my name."
"I may be demanding of my subordinates, but I am never stingy. Those who are loyal, outstanding, and courageous in battle will undoubtedly be rewarded by me, even granted land and raised to the rank of Knight."
Lynn paused again, giving the prisoners time to absorb and digest the information.
This time, the crowd finally reacted, though the noise was much less chaotic than before.
"Perhaps some of you believe I am issuing an empty promise, but you have no other choice but to believe me."
"If you refuse, I will certainly not force you. You may continue to stay in this prison and slowly rot."
"The choice is now yours."
At that moment, Julia Abamark, standing in the crowd, suddenly raised her hand.
"Your Grace, may I ask a question?"
Lynn noticed the woman and nodded. "State your name."
"Julia Abamark."
The warden beside Lynn quietly interjected: "She is one of the four commanders of the Feral Cats."
Julia Abamark, Feral Cats… With those two key pieces of information, Lynn remembered. In the original novels, she and the other three Feral Cats commanders were pardoned by Istrad and sent to Temeria to fight in the decisive battles of the Second Northern War.
To have risen to a command position in the mercenary profession—a line of work entirely determined by skill—already indicated that this woman was no mere flower vase, but a rose with thorns.
"You may ask."
Julia curtsied. "Your Grace, if we fight for you, will we receive the pay and status of regular soldiers, or will you treat us as slave troops?"
The warden was horrified. "Shut up, you wretched woman! What are you saying?! Guards, drag this woman away!" The woman was insane! How dare she speak to the Duke like that?
But Lynn raised his hand, halting the guards. He looked into Julia's eyes and spoke slowly but firmly, at a volume loud enough for everyone present to hear.
"You are not slaves. You will fight for me as mercenaries. I will give you the highest-tier pay and treatment in the mercenary hierarchy."
"At the same time, as I just stated, those who are most loyal and brave to me will be promoted to Knights, even Barons… Do you understand my meaning, Julia? Do all of you understand?"
Julia pushed through the crowd, walked up to Lynn, and knelt on one knee amidst the tense gazes of the jailers.
"Understood. This sword of Julia Abamark is yours to wield, Your Grace."
Seeing their commander kneel, Julia's former subordinates began to follow suit. Then, others joined in. Eventually, only a handful of people remained standing.
Lynn was satisfied and immediately ordered them out of the prison. He led them to the military camp outside the city, which had been erected during the siege and had not yet been dismantled. The banner flying over the camp bore a never-before-seen crest: a Sable and Gold Double-Headed Eagle.
This was the family crest Lynn had devised. Augustus was his family name, and the Sable and Gold Double-Headed Eagle was his crest. Since the West was so fond of high and noble lineage, and since his black hair was already considered a symbol of nobility in the West, he would give them a grand name.
The Feral Cats—now the former Feral Cats—were quickly re-equipped inside the camp. Lynn let them decide internally who would serve as captains. Julia Abamark was retained as the sole commander. Although the Feral Cats originally had four commanders, Lynn had not bothered to secure the release of the other three. Julia alone was enough.
Lynn gave them a week to readjust and return to a military state. Then, he left Rákverellin, leading his three thousand soldiers eastward.
Knowing that the title of Duke alone was not enough to rule Ispaden, these three thousand soldiers were effectively a gift of strength from Istrad. Beyond the men, Istrad had also provided Lynn with massive financial and material aid—enough to ensure Lynn wouldn't have to worry about the payroll or provisions for these three thousand men for the next three years.
This prompted Lynn to silently praise his patron for his generosity. It was no wonder the Kovir and Poviss nobles had a different temperament from those of other nations. Following such a lord, it would be difficult not to improve.
With Istrad's aid, Lynn had no worries. The three thousand strong army marched directly through the Marquisate of Targo.
However, on the night the army paused at the border of the Marquisate of Targo, an owl flew into Lynn's tent.
"Philippa Eilhart, what a rare visitor."
"How did you know it was me?"
A flash of white light, and the owl transformed into the Sorceress.
I didn't know, of course. I just said it on a whim, and it actually is you.
In the source material, Philippa often liked to transform into an owl and fly around. That's why Lynn instinctively blurted out her name when he saw the owl fly into his tent. It surprised him that it actually was her.
Lynn's face remained calm, but his mind grew deeply wary. If there was one sorceress in the Witcher world he wanted to avoid most, it was the woman currently before him.
While Francesca Findabair's deal with Nilfgaard could be barely rationalized as a "necessary sacrifice" for Dol Blathanna, Philippa Eilhart was the definition of someone who wouldn't stop causing trouble.
During the Thanedd Coup following the First Northern War, she instigated a Scoia'tael assassin to murder King Vizimir. Later, when Dijkstra, Redania's head of intelligence, got wind of the assassination and planned to investigate further, she hired an assassin to kill Dijkstra (who fortunately escaped). After the dissolution of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, she founded the Lodge of Sorceresses, aiming to establish a state ruled by mages.
Her actions led to the death of two Northern Kings, shattering the North-South balance and resulting in the occupation of Temeria and its vassal states, Lyria and Rivia, and Aedirn by the Nilfgaardian Empire—bringing the North to its most perilous hour.
Philippa herself fared little better. The Lodge of Sorceresses' reputation was ruined due to the regicides, and she was captured by Vizimir's son's subordinates and had her eyes gouged out. Even later, by the time of The Witcher 3, Philippa was still scheming to replace Yennefer as Emperor Emhyr var Emreis's court advisor in Nilfgaard.
One had to wonder how this woman's brain worked. Any normal person could guess that the Nilfgaardian Emperor would never allow such an ambitious woman to remain in his court.
Facing Philippa's question, Lynn answered evasively: "Lady Philippa, it's late. Is there something you need?"
"It's nothing major. I merely wanted to see what the first witcher to ever defy his own creed looks like."
Philippa's voice carried a hint of mockery. "I am truly curious what your witcher forefathers would think if they knew one of their descendants would so openly violate the Witcher's Code."
The woman was indeed trouble. Lynn didn't even blink before retorting.
"The Witcher's Code was written by men. If it can be established, it can certainly be broken. How one should act depends on different environments and requires different judgment calls."
"Only those who are utterly foolish will stubbornly cling to outmoded traditions."
Philippa didn't appear angered. "Since the witchers were created, never has one become the honored guest of a king, let alone an equal to the nobility. Are you not worried that His Majesty Istrad or his vassals will grow wary of you?"
Lynn's pupils constricted slightly. This woman had definitely sought out Istrad first to sow discord. Finding that she couldn't sway him, she had now come to him to continue her provocation.
"Lady Philippa, if I were you, I wouldn't make enemies unnecessarily."
Philippa laughed. "Thank you for the advice, but I do not believe I have fallen so low as to consider a witcher an enemy." The implication was that she simply did not care about Lynn's retaliation.
Lynn also smiled. "Is that so? Then who do you consider an enemy? It couldn't possibly be King Vizimir, could it?"
Philippa was instantly startled. A sudden sense of dread washed over her. "Has drinking those potions rotted your brain, witcher? I am the court advisor of Redania. King Vizimir is the liege I serve. How could I possibly wish him ill?"
"Don't you want to advance further? Redania is the strongest power among the Northern Kingdoms. Don't you want to become the Queen of this nation?"
Philippa's eyes slowly turned dangerous. "You… I see I will have to kill you."
"Try it, if you can." Lynn crossed his arms over his chest, a look of surprising ease on his face.
To Philippa, that look seemed to be mocking her. I will make you pay for your arrogance.
Just as Philippa decided to cast an instant spell, she suddenly realized that her connection to Chaos magic had been severed at some unknown point. She could not sense even a trace of Chaos magic, and naturally, she could not cast the spells she relied on.
The look in Philippa's eyes when she focused on Lynn was now filled with shock. "What did you do to me? Did you place large amounts of dimeritium in the tent?"
The sorceress's eyes darted around. But the tent was simply furnished, with nowhere to hide anything. Furthermore, if it were dimeritium, she should have felt the magic being suppressed and difficult to channel the moment she entered the tent.
In other words, the witcher before her had mastered some kind of magic-nullifying… something. But the question was, did such a spell exist? Even if it did, how did a witcher master it?
Philippa's expression shifted several times. Finally, she stopped underestimating Lynn and adopted a serious attitude.
"It seems I underestimated you, witcher. Since we both hold leverage over each other, perhaps we can try options other than killing one another… such as cooperation."