Sebastian attacked first, he met the first attacker head-on, his sword flashing in a blur of steel. The man's blade rose to meet his, but Sebastian was faster, stronger, his strike driving the man back with the force of a battering ram. He followed with a series of rapid, devastating blows, each one forcing the attacker further off balance.
The second attacker came from the side, his sword aimed at Sebastian's ribs with the intent to kill. Sebastian pivoted, his body flowing like water, and the blade passed harmlessly through empty air. He brought his own sword around in a sweeping arc, carving a deep wound across the attacker's chest. The man staggered, his blood pooling on the cobblestones, his eyes wide with shock.
The third and fourth attackers pressed forward together, their swords moving in coordinated attacks that would have overwhelmed a lesser opponent. They worked in perfect synchronicity, their blades weaving a web of steel that left no room for error. Sebastian retreated, his blade moving in tight, controlled arcs, deflecting and parrying with the precision of a masterswordsman.
He dropped into a low crouch, his body coiling like a spring, and launched himself forward. His sword drove through the chest of the third attacker, the blade emerging from his back in a spray of crimson. He pulled it free, spinning to face the fourth.
The man's eyes were wide with fear, but his sword was still raised. He swung his blade aimed at Sebastian's throat. Sebastian caught the attack on his own sword, the impact ringing through the street like a bell. He twisted, disarming the man, and drove his elbow into the attacker's face. The man crumpled, his nose shattered, his consciousness fading.
The fifth attacker, the crossbowman had dropped his weapon and drawn a long, curved dagger. He circled Sebastian, his eyes calculating, his movements cautious. He was the leader, Sebastian realized.
Sebastian's smile was cold. "You were good. But not good enough. Tell me who sent you, and I will make your death quick."
The crossbowman swung his dagger aimed at Sebastian's heart. Sebastian made it fair and pulled his own knife, a small blade. The crossbowman's dagger rose to meet his, but Sebastian was already inside his guard. The knife slid between his ribs, and the man crumpled, his eyes still wide with disbelief, his lifeblood staining the cobblestones.
The remaining attacker, the first one had risen to his feet. His face was pale, his hand clutching his wounded side, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He raised his sword.
Sebastian's hand shot out, a blast of telekinetic force erupting from his palm. The Aard sign slammed into the man, driving him back, his sword spinning from his grip and embedding itself in his own stomach.
The man fell to his knees, his eyes wide, his blood pooling on the cobblestones. He gasped, his hands clutching the hilt of his own sword, his face twisted in agony.
Sebastian walked toward him. He asked as he looked down at the dying man. "Who sent you? Tell me, and I will end this quickly, you don't have to suffer."
The man tried to speak, his voice choked with blood. "I... I don't... fuck.. off."
His eyes went still.
Sebastian stood over his body, his yellow eyes fixed on the cooling corpse. The street was silent now, the echoes of battle fading. The bodies of the five attackers lay scattered across the cobblestones, their blood pooling in the cracks between the stones.
Dandelion emerged from behind the barrels, his face pale, his hands shaking. "Seb... that was... that was incredible! But who the hell were they!"
Zoltan rose from behind the cart, his axe still in hand. "Aye, lad. That was something, but what the fuck is this morning we woke up to."
Sebastian looked at the bodies, then at the street, then at his companions.
Dandelion's voice was high and tight. "What could they possibly want from us?"
"I don't know." Sebastian said. "But they wanted us dead, or at least they wanted me dead."
The morning air, which had been so calm and peaceful moments before, now the air smelled of blood and the acrid scent of fear. The cobblestones of the street were slick with crimson, the bodies of the five attackers lying in twisted, unnatural positions, their hoods thrown back to reveal faces frozen in expressions of shock and agony. The sunlight, which had seemed so warm and golden, now fell upon the scene, illuminating every grisly detail.
The people of Vizima had emerged from their hiding places, their faces pale, their eyes wide with the horror of what they had witnessed. They stood in clusters, their hands clasped to their mouths, their voices rising and falling in shock and disbelief. The violence had been so sudden, so brutal, that their minds struggled to process what they had seen.
"By the gods," a woman whispered, her voice trembling. "Did you see that? He killed them all. Just like that.. Five men, and he cut them down..."
A merchant, his cart still overturned, his goods scattered across the street, shook his head slowly. "I've heard stories about witchers.. They say they're mutants, bred for killing. But I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes.. He didn't even hesitate. He just... slaughtered them."
An old man, leaning on a cane, spat into the street. "They're not human, I tell you. They're abominations! Mutants with no souls! Look at those eyes.. yellow like a cat's. No man should have eyes like that. That's unnatural, that is. That's what happens when you meddle with dark magic and alchemy!"
A young woman, her face streaked with tears, clutched her child tightly to her chest. "Is he going to hurt us?! He killed those men so easily.. what if he turns on us next? What if he decides we're a threat?"
A group of laborers, their tools still in their hands, watched from a safe distance, their faces grim. "The guards will deal with him.." one of them said. "They won't let a monster like that roam free in the city. They'll string him up, or lock him away where he can't hurt anyone."
A baker, his apron still dusted with flour, wiped his brow with a trembling hand. "He brought death to our doorstep.."
The crowd's murmurs grew louder, their fear and anger intertwining, a few of them had drawn closer, their expressions hardening into glares of suspicion and hatred.
One man, his voice rough with indignation, stepped forward. "You see? You see what they are? They bring nothing but death and destruction! They say they hunt monsters, but I see one right in front of me!"
A woman spat on the ground near where Sebastian stood. "Get out of our city, you freak! We don't want yer kind here!"
Another voice called out, sharp and accusing. "You think you're better than us? You think you can just kill whoever you want because you've got those swords and those eyes? We know what you are!"
The crowd's hostility was palpable, from all sides. They did not see the five men who had attacked him. They did not see the crossbow bolt that had nearly taken his life. They saw only the witcher, standing amidst the carnage, his sword still dripping with blood.
Then the guards arrived.
They came in force, a squad of ten men in the blue and gold of Temeria, their halberds gleaming, their faces hard. They pushed through the crowd, their captain, a grizzled veteran with a scar across his cheek surveying the scene with cold eyes.
"What in the name of the King happened here?" the captain demanded.
Dandelion stepped forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "These men attacked us! They came out of nowhere, armed and ready to kill! Sebastian was defending himself!"
The captain's eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask you, bard." He turned to Sebastian, his gaze sweeping over the witcher's bloodstained sword and the bodies scattered across the street. "You. Explain yourself."
Sebastian's voice was calm. "They attacked me, I defended myself. That is all."
The captain was silent for a moment, his eyes boring into Sebastian's. Then he nodded slowly. "Of course... we'll find out what happened, but not here. Throw down your weapons. Now, no funny business."
Sebastian's jaw tightened, but he did not argue. He cleaned his sword with his own clothes then sheathed it slowly, then dropped his belt to the ground. His steel and silver blades clattered against the cobblestones.
"Here," Sebastian said, his voice flat.
The captain gestured to two of his men. "Take his weapons, and secure him."
One of the guards stepped forward, his face twisted with contempt. He snatched up Sebastian's swords, his fingers curling around the hilts with the kind of possessive greed, he saw value in what he had taken. Two more guards grabbed Sebastian's arms, their grip brutal and unyielding.
"Move along now, mutant!" one of them growled, his voice dripping with hatred. "You're coming with us."
Dandelion stepped forward. "Is this how you treat heroes in your city? Those who defend the weak and the innocent?"
The guard's eyes snapped to Dandelion, cold and hard. "Now shut up, or we will arrest you too, bard." His gaze shifted to Zoltan. "Hold on.. you were with him, no?"
Sebastian answered before Zoltan did. "No. I was alone. The bard is just an idiot who likes to talk, and the dwarf picked up that axe to defend himself just in case, he has nothing to do with this, as you can see there is no blood in his weapon, only mine."
The guard studied Sebastian for a moment, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Then he nodded slowly. "Very well."
The guards began to lead Sebastian away, their grip firm, the crowd parted before them, their faces carrying a mixture of fear and hatred. Some spat on the ground as Sebastian passed. Others hurled insults, their voices sharp and venomous.
"Murderer!"
"Monster!"
"Go back to wherever you came from, freak!"
"See? See what happens when you let them into the city? They bring nothing but blood and death!"
One man, his face twisted with rage, lunged forward, his fist raised. A guard shoved him back, his voice sharp. "Back off! Let us do our job fool!"
The crowd's anger simmered, but they did not intervene. They watched as the guards led Sebastian away.
Dandelion and Zoltan stood frozen, their faces pale with barely contained fury. Dandelion's hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white. Zoltan's jaw was tight, he almost broke his teeth.
But they did not speak or interfere. They had seen the look in Sebastian's eyes, a warning, and they knew that any intervention would only make things worse.
Dandelion's voice was barely a whisper. "We have to do something. We can't just let them take him!"
"We will, we need to go to Triss, she'll know what to do." Zoltan said.
/-\
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