When Victor finished his alchemy, answered Angoulême's questions, and fell into a deep sleep, across the water in Beauclair Palace.
The image transmitted by the room's megascope was Assire var Anahid. She held her pet Merlin in her arms and stroked him. The cat shrank uneasily, yet did not dare move. "Fringilla, still no news?" The sorceress sounded somewhat irritated.
Sitting before the dressing table and removing her makeup, Fringilla Vigo shook her head. "No. Cantarella has not contacted me. Assire, are you certain she would hide in Toussaint?"
"I am not certain, but it is the greatest possibility. She left suddenly and did not even have time to leave any message. If her identity had been exposed, conflict would probably have broken out on the spot, so I infer that she accidentally discovered major intelligence and fled because she feared Lidox would move against her. And as everyone knows, the imperial intelligence agency's hand rarely reaches into Anarietta's lands."
"All right. I will pay attention." After removing her eye makeup, the short-haired Fringilla looked somewhat listless.
"What is wrong? You seem to be in a poor mood. Are you hesitating over Philippa and the others' plan?"
"Not that. Although I do not especially like extreme methods, I agree that it is necessary to change the current situation. Their attempt is ultimately beneficial. What troubles me is that during the Vizima unrest, Geralt actually returned from the dead… and is now with Triss."
"No way. Are you actually jealous? Or are you trying to tell me that all the conditions for the Burning Omen have now been fulfilled?" Having turned to a lighter subject, Assire became quite interested.
Fringilla untied her corset and tossed it aside. "Of course the latter!… All right, I admit there is a little of the former as well, but not much. After all, I once made Triss so jealous she nearly went mad.
"However, pay attention over the next few months. What if Ciri truly returns? And let me tell you something interesting. The owner of this prophecy happens to be traveling in Toussaint right now!"
"Ha ha, traveling in Toussaint? He certainly has leisure and elegance. Foltest was rewarding merits, so I thought he would remain in Vizima."
"In fact, he did not. He came to Toussaint, and when he had an audience with Anarietta, I was right there observing. Victor is very serious. Although mind-reading cannot see through this person, his attitude was open and unconcealed. He plans to move around here for a few months, buy a vineyard estate neither too large nor too small, and enjoy life."
Letting go and putting the cat on the floor, Assire raised a question. "Why would the duchess receive him?"
Fringilla changed into a thin, translucent nightgown. "Please! I know you have no interest in poetry, but you should not be utterly ignorant either. All the North knows that he is Dandelion's close friend. Before he became the Dovahkiin, he was first the Dragonborn Bard. Perhaps you could find his works and listen to them. They truly are very pleasing melodies!"
"Oh… so that is it. The duchess's marvelous love story. In that case, seize the opportunity to observe him properly and see clearly what kind of person he is. Anyone capable of playing Philippa for a fool must have something unique about him. Do not tell me you are not planning to do this." Assire's mood visibly improved.
Fringilla shook her head. "I truly would like to, but unfortunately, he refused to stay in the castle, preferring to live in the city outside the palace. However, there are quite a few people in the duchy paying attention to them. We will soon know his true purpose."
…
Toussaint's sacred traditions are supreme, the teachings of Prophet Lebioda and the Five Virtues followed by knights, honor, wisdom, generosity, valor, and compassion.
…
The next day, close to noon, the city of Beauclair was filled with birdsong, fragrant flowers, a gentle breeze, and bright sunlight.
In Lolivier Square in the eastern part of Hauteville, the Upper City, Angoulême followed behind Victor with five or six flyers in her hands, her face filled with unwillingness.
But when her leader suddenly stopped and she followed his gaze to see the town crier in charge of announcements, along with the crowd gathered around the platform to listen, Angoulême immediately changed her mind and wished he would keep moving.
At the edge of the square, the town crier Herold was shouting loudly to the many layers of commoners gathered around him. "A terrifying beast has appeared again! Sir Milton de Peyrac-Peyran, who fought bravely against it, is bedridden today! Good people, beware the beast! If you are afraid, seek help from the Holy Book. Prophet Lebioda is with us!"
After shouting that, he panted twice, then changed sheets. "Good people, whether you are from Beauclair or from elsewhere, this is a solemn reminder to all of you. The city council has decided to forbid the dumping of waste water onto the streets of Hauteville between ten in the morning and eight at night!"
Herold's tone rose and fell, sounding full of feeling.
Switching to the next advertisement, the announcer raised his voice once more. "The Beauclair branch of the Transnational Flagellant Club is open for visits! No restrictions apply. Anyone may enter. Come and taste the flavor of the lash. Perhaps you will find yourself longing for more! Discover your true self!"
…
After some time, the announcements temporarily ended. The town crier wiped away his sweat, stepped down from the platform, squeezed through the crowd, and sat on the steps nearby to rest and drink water.
Regarding this town crier's enthusiasm for his work, Victor nodded repeatedly in satisfaction. With a swish, he drew two flyers from Angoulême's hands, then walked toward the man with his nose in the air. Angoulême could only watch this scene happen, small, pitiful, and helpless.
Before long, when the Phantom Troupe left, the announcer's moving, passionate speech once again came from behind them.
"Good news! Good news, tremendous good news! People living in Beauclair, you are blessed, an alchemist has come to your land!
"He has come from east of Zerrikania, crossed the Korath Desert, and arrived in this promised land flowing with wine and milk, exploring the animals that live within it, learning about the plants that grow here, and most importantly, helping you achieve happiness and joy.
"Filled with passion, he has brought countless mysterious formulas from foreign lands. To say nothing else, his potions for drinking a thousand cups without falling, hair follicle regeneration, and restored virility possess astonishing effects you would not dare imagine even in your dreams. More importantly, because the alchemist loves this land, purchases now enjoy a discount of zero point one two percent! Yes, you heard correctly! A discount of zero point one two percent!
"You must understand, opportunities are rare. The alchemist's goal is the stars and the sea, endless exploration of the world, and understanding the secrets beneath the night sky. He will not stop his steps here. Perhaps he will leave in a few days!
"So if you wish to chat with this mysterious traveler, or if you need his selfless help, do not hesitate! Hurry and bring your bulging coin purse to visit his temporary residence, at The Pheasantry Inn in Hauteville.
"What are you still waiting for? North and south of the Yaruga, he is one of a kind. Time is money, my friends! Miss this chance, and you will wait another hundred years!
"May the wind guide your path, and may Mother Earth walk beside you!"
During this announcement, Herold went all out, raising both hands and bursting with passion, because Victor had simply given too much.
…
After moving away from Lolivier Square and finally being unable to hear the announcement that made her so embarrassed she wanted to die, Angoulême continued following her leader forward. They successfully arrived at their original destination, the notice board in the Upper City, Hauteville.
Without hesitation, with a slap, Victor posted "An Alchemist Has Come to Your Land!" in a conspicuous spot. Then he posted "The Phantom Troupe, Your Friendly Good Neighbors!" Finally came "This Witcher Is Not Too Cold, A True Record of a Ray of Humanity."
The first piece was the content delivered to the announcer for broadcasting. The second was for recruiting business for the mercenary troupe. As for the third, it was purely a soft article fabricated by Victor, doing everything possible from the side to whitewash witchers with nauseating sentimentality.
In a medieval era lacking entertainment, Victor was very confident that this moving story, which combined every melodramatic element imaginable, would surely spread far and wide. Even Angoulême had cried rivers of tears the first time she read it, making a fuss about adopting the little girl Mathilda and cleaning the grave of the witcher Léon, which showed how powerful it was.
However, after learning that it was all fictional, Angoulême had been as angry as she had once been moved. Fortunately, seeing the flyer posted on the notice board, which meant that countless people would similarly fall into the trap and be deceived, and that they would never know whether the story was true or false, finally gave her some peace of mind.
After posting the soft article and the advertisements, Victor put the rest back into his herbal satchel and began checking whether the notice board had any tasks he could participate in. He soon found several relatively useful pieces of information, even too useful.
…
"Participate in the Five Virtues Trial and Test Your Ability!"
Dear reader:
Time flies and eras change, but no matter the age, brave souls are needed to protect all that is beautiful and good.
Please come to the island on Lake Celavy and fully understand your character during the trial. Once you pass, you will receive a reward.
…
This notice awakened Corion's prophetic memory. He knew that the Five Virtues Trial involved a certain legend. It was believed that a knight who had perfected the five virtues of honor, wisdom, generosity, valor, and compassion, upon participating in the trial, could meet the Lady of the Lake, the unclothed goddess, and receive Aerondight, the strongest silver sword in the game.
So although Victor did not believe that he possessed virtues, this notice still aroused his interest. He registered "the island on Lake Celavy" as an absolutely must-visit scenic spot, and a must-attempt mission.
…
"Notice from the Ducal Camerlengo": Calling all knight-errants and other strong warriors! The duchy needs your help! High rewards offered! For details, come to the office of the Ducal Camerlengo in Knights' Square.
…
This notice was much easier to understand. Victor guessed that it was probably the kind of task in the game where one had to go somewhere and eliminate a certain number of something, except in reality, it would become a specific bounty.
In addition, there were several other notices that were all quite interesting. Victor also put them into his satchel one by one, then brought Angoulême to Knights' Square, preparing to visit the Ducal Camerlengo and inquire about the prices for bounty tasks.
Walking through the Upper City, the people coming and going along the road all wore clean and tidy clothing, with pleasantly tipsy smiles on their faces. In the homeland of red wine, drinking during the day was not regarded as a moral flaw.
"Vic," Angoulême thought as they walked, and the more she thought, the more something felt wrong. Unable to figure it out no matter how she pondered, the troupe member asked her leader, "Do we really need to go this far? I mean, accepting tasks is normal, but posting advertisements feels a bit strange… especially… uh… false advertising."
Victor curled his lip disdainfully. "Tch! Familiarity is familiarity, but if you talk nonsense, I'll still sue you for slander! Tell me, which part of the advertisement is false? Have some confidence. Our Phantom Troupe really is that amazing!"
"I don't mean the Phantom Troupe. I mean the alchemist! When we were in Novigrad, didn't you say that baldness was a very complicated problem and that you had no way to solve hair follicle regeneration?" Angoulême asked in a low voice.
Victor smiled. "Not bad. You took my words to heart. The key point is that times change. Have you noticed who the bald people in Toussaint mainly are? I'll give you a hint, Milton, Palmerin, or that captain Damien from yesterday. What do they have in common?"
"Uh… they're all knights?"
"Correct answer. The main cause of baldness in Beauclair is probably scalp disease, and I just happen to know many treatment methods. For example, regularly removing the helmet and cleaning it can prevent an itchy scalp. Then there is heat dissipation, ventilation, and keeping cool. Of course, the most crucial reason is still that I am far more powerful than before! Just watch! I will be the follicle savior of every knight!"
As they spoke, the Phantom Troupe arrived before an imposing building. Victor naturally stopped, staring blankly at the long line of people in front of the entrance.
A line was nothing unusual. What was unusual was that this line was made up entirely of knights. The queue was at least half an archery field long. Their helmets bore all kinds of decorations, and their shields carried all sorts of coats of arms, so many that it was dazzling.
Although the witcher had some guesses in his heart, asking would still be fastest. "Do you know what this is about, Angoulême?"
"Of course I know!" She puffed out her chest, full of momentum. "But if I say it, you definitely won't believe me. I also found it unbelievable at first, but this is an irrefutable fact…"
"Stop! My dear deputy leader, don't keep me in suspense. Say the answer first!"
Looking left and right to confirm there was no one nearby, Angoulême lowered her voice and whispered, "They are lining up here to collect this month's salary. Can you believe it? In Toussaint, as long as someone swears to follow the Five Virtues and registers their name on the roll of knights, they do not need to swear loyalty to the duchess, yet she will still pay the knight a salary. The reason is that 'knight-errants should not go hungry.'"
At first listen, it sounded somewhat absurd. But recalling the Duchy of Toussaint's national defense system, one feature was that they had no organized army. Instead, they relied on knight-errants who did not swear loyalty to the duchess, but acted voluntarily, to maintain the safety of borders and roads. As for the capital, Beauclair, and palace security, those were handled by the ducal guard.
With this arrangement, everyone knew that the duchy had no army, so naturally it did not need to participate in the war between the North and Nilfgaard, nor would it be suspected by the Empire. They only needed to continuously produce the best red wine in the world and rely on knight-errants to make residents feel safe.
His mind turning, after figuring out the twists and turns within, Victor laughed in sudden understanding. "Heh heh… What is strange about that? Isn't that perfectly natural?"
Angoulême frowned. "Why do you all say the same thing? Uncle Geralt and Regis said the same thing before! People who want to become knights should do it for lofty ideals, not for a monthly salary!"
"Believe me, Angoulême," Victor reached out and ruffled her blond hair. "Those two things are not contradictory. They can coexist, and they should coexist. I am confident I can convince you. Remember to remind me tonight to tell you the story of a philosopher redeeming captives.
"Besides, the fact that they do not lack money is even better. I can raise the prices of my services slightly. Among the Five Virtues, one seems to be generosity. For the sake of better attracting the hearts of noble ladies, I believe they will not begrudge a small early investment!"
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