After getting the answer from the Lady of the Lake, Guilliman breathed a sigh of relief.
Sure enough, in a world of magic and gods, these supernatural powers were still the most reliable.
If he had to investigate this matter himself, he truly didn't know how long it would take.
He turned to look at the Lady of the Lake and continued to ask,
"Lady, I have another friend, the sorceress Triss. She should have also been taken away by this group. Do you know where she is now?"
Hearing this question, the beautiful Lady turned her head to look at the Witcher, and as if she knew in advance, she pondered for a moment before saying,
"She is currently imprisoned in the underground dungeon of the Tretogor Royal Palace."
"However, the information I received was from a few days ago, so it may not be accurate now."
"You'll have to verify it yourself."
Guilliman nodded upon hearing this. He wasn't surprised that the Lady of the Lake would know this information in advance.
As a deity who maintained contact with mortals, it was natural for her to pay attention to the succession of mortal power and certain key figures.
Furthermore, the Lady of the Lake had already said that she and some higher-dimensional gazes had always been watching him, so it wasn't too surprising that they were also watching those connected to him.
Guilliman didn't waste any extra time on the Lady's island; saving Triss's life was more important.
Even if they were both members of the Lodge of Sorceresses, he shouldn't expect Philippa to show mercy to others.
That woman was such a ruthless and foolish political animal.
Although he hadn't met her yet, Philippa could be said to be the sorceress he had the worst impression of among many.
If he encountered her in Tretogor this time, Guilliman wasn't prepared to show mercy. It just so happened that he currently lacked the soul of a sorcerer with extensive knowledge.
Even if killing a beautiful sorceress was a bit of a waste, he wasn't the kind of person who couldn't move his feet when he saw a beautiful woman.
After making his decision, Guilliman bid farewell to the Lady of the Lake.
Although he also wanted to spend more time with the beautiful and sacred Lady, time was pressing, and he had to depart quickly.
However, before leaving, the Witcher once again asked the Lady of the Lake if there were any enemies he needed to eliminate, even if they were evil gods.
After tasting the exquisite flavor of the Flower Goddess, he had always coveted the Lady of the Lake, who was more to his liking.
Perhaps sensing what the Witcher was thinking, the Lady of the Lake looked at him with a somewhat complex gaze and then said,
"My champion."
"After you resolve this matter, there is indeed a task I can entrust to you."
"Since the altar in Lake Vizima was destroyed last time, the evil god Dagon has set up another evil altar near the Skellige Isles."
"However, this time, the scale of this altar is larger, and it is guarded by sea folk cultists."
"The mission difficulty is higher than the last time."
"According to the information I received, there are many sea folk there, and they are accumulating strength. Once the evil god's avatar descends, they should launch an attack along the Pontar River against some human cities along the way."
"However, this plan should have just begun, so there's no rush for now."
"Even if you destroy their altar now, they can just move to another location and continue to summon the evil god's avatar."
"So, it would be best to wait until the evil god's avatar descends before taking action."
It was another mission to eliminate an evil god's avatar.
Indeed, the conflict between Dagon and the Lady of the Lake was quite severe.
Perhaps one day, when he possessed the power to eliminate the evil god Dagon of this world, the beautiful and sacred Lady of the Lake would treat him as an equal.
And not as an ordinary mortal.
After leaving the Lady's island, the Witcher poured another bottle of high-grade mana potion into his mouth and then rushed non-stop to Tretogor, the capital of Redania.
This time, Guilliman wasn't going to hide his identity.
He was going to show those mortal rulers who always governed this world with schemes, tricks, or foolish methods.
Some people should not be provoked.
What they prided themselves on was nothing in the face of true power.
This time, he would openly and single-handedly storm the Tretogor Royal Palace, rescue Triss, and incidentally kill those who dared to scheme against him.
He acted on his thoughts.
As the capital of the Kingdom of Redania, Tretogor was quite famous throughout the North. It wasn't far from Vizima, with a straight-line distance of only about two to three hundred kilometers.
Guilliman found a relatively accurate map in the city and, without consulting Princess Adda, directly used long-distance teleportation to quickly move towards his destination.
During this time, by comparing maps and asking for directions, it took him about fifteen minutes to arrive at the northern city of Tretogor at a speed unimaginable to ordinary people.
Compared to Vizima, which had only recently been built, Tretogor appeared to be on a larger scale.
It was a city also built on elven ruins, with high city walls and a very large Royal Palace.
As the wealthiest kingdom among the Northern Realms, Guilliman could clearly feel that Tretogor's military defenses were quite good, with many heavily armored soldiers coming and going, strong, well-built, and well-trained.
However, they were ultimately just ordinary people, and he didn't pay them any mind.
Looking at the heavily guarded Royal Palace in the distance, Guilliman drew his Sword of the Lady of the Lake and, with a single teleport, arrived at the palace gate.
"Stop, who are you?"
"This is the Royal Palace of Redania; suspicious individuals are forbidden to approach!"
There were more than a dozen soldiers guarding the palace gate. When they saw the Witcher suddenly appear at the gate, although they were both puzzled and shocked, they bravely stepped forward to try and prevent the Witcher from entering.
Unfortunately, Guilliman had come with a killing intent this time. In response to the soldiers' questions, what met them was a thunderous slash.
Pfft! Pfft!
The Sword of the Lady of the Lake, having been enhanced twice, with magic infused, its sharpness and durability already far surpassed mortal weapons.
The few soldiers standing in front of him were cut into several pieces, along with their armor, almost in the blink of an eye.
For a moment, all the soldiers present were stunned. After all, as the Royal Palace of Redania, it had probably not suffered an enemy attack for decades.
Moreover, the opponent was alone, and the soldiers blocking him seemed as fragile as paper, so vulnerable.
However, Guilliman didn't care what they thought; he simply walked towards the interior of the Royal Palace at a speed faster than an ordinary person's run, as if strolling leisurely.
Along the way, any soldier who dared to block him was cut into several pieces like tofu. Occasionally, he would grab a terrified servant nearby and ask for directions to the dungeon.
It wasn't until he had walked several hundred meters into the Royal Palace that the horns signaling an enemy attack began to sound throughout the entire palace, one after another.
Listening to the continuous blare of horns around him and watching the fully armed soldiers constantly encircling him, Guilliman felt no sense of crisis. Instead, he felt quite bored.
Possessing physical abilities more than a dozen times greater than ordinary people, holding a weapon that could cut through steel, and additionally having the Elder Blood that allowed him to freely move and teleport.
Unless he encountered an opponent who could put pressure on him, no matter how many mortals there were, they would only be consumables that depleted his stamina, making it difficult for them to cause him harm.
He chose not to use his Signs, simply relying on his superhuman speed and strength to walk towards the location of the Royal Palace dungeon, cutting through enemies as if slicing melons and vegetables.
Whether there were a few guards or a dozen guards blocking his path, in the face of the golden-glowing Sword of the Lady of the Lake, they were all nothing more than standing wooden stakes.
In less than five minutes of entering the Royal Palace, amidst the shocked, terrified, and incredulous gazes of those around him, more than fifty elite Royal Palace guards had already become corpses on the ground.
Their blood and bodies, like a path foretelling death, paved the way behind the Witcher.
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