Chapter 413: Hold Firm, and There Will Be a Way
The woman had backed down.
It had to be Philippa Eilhart; even when she conceded, she had to maintain her pretense and absolutely refused to speak plainly. But… whatever. That's just who she is.
In the original story, the 'Kingslayer'—whom Philippa had used as a pawn and a tool—came back to severely undermine Philippa and the Lodge of Sorceresses, causing the Lodge's reputation to be utterly ruined. The mastermind behind the Kingslayer was none other than the Nilfgaardian Emperor, Emhyr var Emreis. Yet, Philippa didn't even dare to hate him, going so far as to wish to switch loyalties and serve him.
Of course, a person like Philippa would never be content to remain subservient for long. Her desire to become Emhyr var Emreis's court advisor was merely a plan to re-enact what she had done in Redania once the time was ripe.
But this proved one thing: as long as your fist was bigger than Philippa's, she would not make trouble.
"Cooperation? Of course. I would be delighted to cooperate with the future Queen of Redania. However, Lady Philippa, you should be worrying not about me, but about the Brotherhood of Sorcerers."
"I know what you are thinking, witcher," Philippa sneered. "Don't try to use my own 'magic' against me."
"No, you don't." Lynn shook his head, his expression earnest. "If you truly knew, you wouldn't have come looking for trouble with me."
He paused, then continued, "You must know about the newly-appointed Emperor of the Nilfgaardian Empire, Emhyr var Emreis. He is the son of Fergus var Emreis."
"His father was once overthrown by a highly influential noble in the City of the Golden Towers, and he himself was turned into a hedgehog-like subhuman monster by a sorcerer named Braasens."
Philippa froze. "Wait, how do you know all this?"
Philippa, of course, knew these events. But she was perplexed. Where had Lynn, a mere witcher, obtained this knowledge? He certainly didn't command a national intelligence network like her, the Royal Advisor of Redania.
"I have my own sources of information," Lynn said, watching the astonished Philippa. "This subhuman monster, or rather, the former Imperial Prince, changed his name to 'Duny', and while wandering the forests of Cintra, he met the then-injured and helpless Cintra consort, Rögnar of Ebbing."
"After saving him, Duny invoked the Law of Surprise, demanding Rögnar repay the life debt with 'something he did not know he already possessed.'"
"Lady Philippa, I believe you know what that 'something' was?"
Philippa nodded. "The late Princess of Cintra, Pavetta."
"Precisely."
Philippa naturally knew the tale of Cintra from many years ago. Calanthe, the Lioness of Cintra, had desired a son her entire life. Fate, however, was cruel. She had one child, and only one: a princess.
When Princess Pavetta turned fifteen, Queen Calanthe, ruler of Cintra, held a marriage feast for the princess. The feast invited numerous nobles, including those from the Skellige Isles, and also a witcher—the famous Geralt of Rivia.
The true purpose of the feast, however, was not to choose a partner for Princess Pavetta, but to eliminate the hedgehog-monster who was destined to claim her daughter as his reward. Calanthe intended to use Geralt to kill Duny at the feast (as Calanthe was certain Duny would come to claim his payment fifteen years later).
Instead, by a twist of fate, Duny's curse was broken. Pavetta ultimately married Duny. The two had a daughter named Ciri. Afterward, Duny and Pavetta died in a shipwreck, leaving Ciri to be raised by Calanthe.
Thinking of this, Philippa suddenly asked, "You just said that Emhyr var Emreis is Duny? So Duny is Emhyr var Emreis?"
Lynn offered a faint smile. "Lady Philippa, listening to you is like listening to myself… But yes, they are the same person."
Philippa frowned. "Then the shipwreck…"
Lynn spread his hands. "It was, of course, deliberately manufactured. Its purpose was to secretly return to Nilfgaard and reclaim the throne."
Philippa involuntarily drew a sharp breath. The sheer volume of information was overwhelming. Her mind felt like it was buzzing. If everything they had just discussed was true, then…
"Faking his death in a shipwreck to conceal his identity—such a feat would be impossible without the help of a sorcerer."
"And since Nilfgaardian sorcerers only serve the Emperor—who the Emperor is doesn't matter—the one who helped Emhyr var Emreis must have been a Northern sorcerer."
Lynn applauded. "Bingo. Your deduction is perfectly correct."
Philippa's face was cold, and she gave a dry snort. "Hmph. In the end, this is still just your word against the world."
Although she said this, Lynn could tell from the sorceress's expression that she believed at least some of it.
"Lady Philippa, you don't have to believe me, but with your control over Redania's national espionage network, it should be easy for you to gather intelligence on the sorcerers within the Brotherhood who have already betrayed the North and secretly defected to Nilfgaard."
"You are a clever woman. If you cross-reference multiple sources of information, you will naturally discover whether what I have told you is true or false."
Philippa crossed her arms over her chest. "I will certainly verify it. However… I assume you have told me all these secrets because you wish to seek some kind of return from me. Tell me, what do you want?"
"I've already told you, Lady Philippa. You should not worry about me. In other words, we can be allies."
"Allies?"
If Lynn had said this before telling Philippa about Emperor Emhyr var Emreis's past, Philippa would have scoffed. But now, Lynn had proven that he was no ordinary witcher. At the very least, most sorcerers, if unable to cast spells in Lynn's presence, were no different from lambs to the slaughter. Therefore, Philippa began to seriously consider Lynn's proposal for an alliance.
"Since Raffard the White was suppressed by the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, the highest position of power a sorcerer can aspire to is that of a royal advisor. Lady Philippa, don't you find that a shame? Don't you feel regret?"
Lynn spread his hands, a charismatic and manipulative expression—the kind one would expect from a master manipulator—appearing on his face. "Kings, nobles, no matter how noble their bloodline, they are merely flesh and blood. Yet, sorcerers and witchers, who are supernatural beings, must bow before mortals. Why? And by what right?"
Ultimately, he convinced Philippa. She promised not to cause Lynn any trouble. And Lynn promised to remain silent about Philippa's upcoming regicidal actions.
Watching Philippa transform back into an owl and fly away, Lynn finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Now, it's time to move quickly."
When the House of Thyssen returned to their loyal Kovir and Poviss, the merchants of Novigrad were utterly stumped. Because the Northern kingdom was closest to the Free City, it generally chose to purchase whatever it needed in Novigrad, including dyes.
In the past, the two kings who had ruled Kovir and Poviss both had a strong preference for blue. As a result, there was a high demand for indigo dye for the clothing of their courtiers, the uniforms of their armies, and their banners.
However, times had suddenly changed. The House of Thyssen had returned. And the House of Thyssen had no need for indigo; they demanded cochineal red.
It was at this moment that the Novigrad merchants realized, to their surprise, that all the cochineal red dye on the entire Novigrad market had already been snapped up by a noble from Toussaint. The merchants from Kovir and Poviss were thus forced to do business with the noble's professional manager, who proceeded to make a massive profit from them.
While Dudu (the doppler) was thoroughly draining the gold out of Kovir and Poviss, Lynn, leading his army, also left the Marquisate of Targo. But he was not in a hurry to head straight for the Free Duchy of Ispaden.
Instead, he first went to Maribor, which bordered the Marquisate of Targo.
When the Poviss Schism occurred, Maribor, along with Kreïden, Kaedwen, the Arc Coast, and Holopole, broke away. The Arc Coast later became a vassal of Redania, while Maribor, Kreïden, and Holopole joined with Kaedwen to form the Hengfors League.
When they previously invaded the Marquisate of Targo, each city-state had contributed a significant number of troops. After losing the war, some had thankfully returned home, but many were gone forever. All the city-states, including Maribor, were severely weakened. This also led to widespread dissatisfaction with King Nedamir.
Therefore, Lynn believed that now was the perfect time to march on the Hengfors League. Lynn advanced to the walls of Maribor under the pretense of seeking justice for the Marquisate of Targo, which the Hengfors League had previously invaded.
Lynn tied a letter to an arrow and shot it into the city. The letter demanded that the Count of Maribor pay one hundred thousand Linthars (the currency used by the Hengfors League) as war reparations.
Not long after, an arrow with a letter tied to it was shot back from the city walls. The letter stated that one hundred thousand Linthars was too large a sum, and that even the ruling Count of Maribor could not gather such a large indemnity on short notice. He requested a few days' grace, promising to personally deliver the compensation afterward.
Lynn wrote another letter, tied it to an arrow, and shot it into the city.
"Your Grace."
A personal guard retrieved the letter from the arrow and handed it to the Count of Maribor. The Count, anxious and slightly nervous, opened the letter.
Immediately, his nervous expression vanished.
"Your Grace?"
The greatly relieved Count of Maribor casually handed the letter over. "Read it yourself."
The guard respectfully took the letter with both hands and began to read. The content of the letter was sparse—only one sentence:
—His Grace Augustus, Duke of Kovir, mercifully and generously agrees to the humble request of the Count of Maribor.
The guard's face brightened. "Your Grace, we don't have to fight?" While one hundred thousand Linthars was no small sum, it wasn't his problem. He was just a salaried guard; why should he worry about a humiliating treaty he didn't sign? If they could reach an agreement with the Kovir army, that was a tangible benefit for him. After all, he and his family lived in this city, and avoiding a battle was best.
"What are you thinking?" the Count of Maribor sneered. "This is merely to buy time."
"I was prepared to be refused, but I didn't expect them to agree immediately. How naive! This buys us at least ten days to half a month."
"Ten days to half a month is enough time for us to forcibly conscript the city's populace to defend the walls. The enemy only has three thousand men. As long as we hold firm, the enemy will withdraw on their own."
Seeing the guard standing blankly, the Count grumbled, "What are you waiting for? Go and relay my military orders!"
After hurrying the guard away, the Count of Maribor poured himself a drink. However, a thought occurred to him, and he called over another guard, ordering him to notify the duty officer to arrange double the manpower for watch duty tonight.
Even though he had reached an agreement with the Duke Augustus, the Count of Maribor was still uneasy. What if the enemy was merely trying to lull them into complacency, had no intention of negotiating, and would attack under the cover of night? The Northern and Southern Camps that had besieged Ironwood City had been defeated by a night attack. Although Maribor's walls were taller and sturdier than a simple military camp, it was always best to be cautious. Otherwise, a huge mistake would be made with no chance for regret.
Night quickly arrived. Normally, the Count of Maribor would have been asleep soon after dinner. But with three thousand enemy troops outside the city, the Count dared not even take off his armor.
Rumble, rumble!
Thunder rolled outside the window. Soon, a downpour began.
A sudden, ominous feeling arose in the Count of Maribor's heart. He called his captain of the guard over.
"Wake everyone up. We're going to inspect the walls."
The Count certainly knows how to pick a time… the captain grumbled inwardly. He knew the enemy was outside, but hadn't they reached an agreement? Since they had conceded, the enemy merely had to wait to collect their gold. Why would the enemy be foolish enough to launch a costly assault?
Although the captain thought this, he dared not show it, nor did he dare to delay. The guard detail was quickly assembled. Escorted by his guards, the Count of Maribor headed toward the city gate.