The autumn sun was warm without being hot.
Standing in front of The Rocking Horse, Victor looked across the bustling, crowded port district, feeling strangely adrift.
"Dettlaff may come back here, but his emotions are rather unstable at the moment. If he suddenly encounters someone he doesn't know, there could be a misunderstanding.
"If possible, Vic, let me stay here and wait for him alone.
"I promise I'll talk things through with him properly. As long as Syanna writes a clear letter in Rhenawedd's name confirming she's safe and gets it here as soon as possible, everything should come to a satisfactory end."
Regis's reasoning made perfect sense, and Victor had no reason to object. Yet after walking out of The Rocking Horse, he suddenly realized there was, for the time being, nowhere in Toussaint that actually needed him.
Dealing with Dettlaff was Regis's job. Settling matters with Syanna was the Ducal Guard's task. Even without him, the world would keep turning.
And even if things went slightly out of control, Yennefer was still here to oversee matters. Her arrogant air of having everything firmly under control might not be particularly likable, but it was undeniably reassuring.
The young man raised his head toward the clear blue sky.
"I'm not a god, just a witcher. I have neither the right nor the need to arrange everyone else's lives."
With that weight off his mind, Victor decided to use this rare stretch of free time to stock up on local specialties and refill the herbal satchel Saskia had practically emptied.
Truth be told, walking through the streets of Toussaint was a pleasant experience. The people here were cheerful and carefree, and every so often someone could be heard drinking and singing at the top of their lungs. It was impossible to imagine that the North was currently shrouded in gathering clouds of war.
A fairytale realm, a land untouched by war.
Victor bought large quantities of various alchemical ingredients from herbalists, then visited weapon shops and ordered a sizable number of weapons. He instructed the merchants to load everything onto wagons and deliver it to Corion Manor.
He intended to head home and enjoy a few days of country-gentleman life, preparing alchemical supplies for future battles while keeping an eye on how events developed.
A man who did not hold office had no reason to meddle in government affairs. Since he was not Toussaint's ruler, Victor's simple philosophy was this: as long as things did not deteriorate into the Night of Long Fangs, they could do whatever they pleased.
"Listen closely! Reliable information has revealed that the truth behind the Beast is a warning sent to us by the heavens! Every knight it has slain was a scoundrel who betrayed the Five Chivalric Virtues! Therefore, we must cast aside such wicked conduct and return to the virtues of tradition!"
This was Lolivier Square in the eastern part of Hauteville, the Upper Town. The loud, eloquent proclamation immediately revealed the speaker's identity. It was Victor's old acquaintance, the town crier Herold.
"Think about it! Count Crespi died locked in a pillory, displayed in the shameful manner of a criminal. Was that not the perfect representation of a man without Honor?
"And then there was Ramon du Lac, once tutor to the ducal family, who foolishly colluded with wicked forces. He died absurdly in a gutter, clutching a pillow. Was that not a symbol of a man utterly lacking Wisdom?
"Naturally, we must not forget Count de la Croix, that notorious tightfist of a knight! How many farmers were left hungry and suffering because of the crushing taxes imposed by his mill? Anyone with eyes could see it! And so the Beast satisfied his greed by stuffing money down his throat!
"But those matters are already in the past. Here and now, I solemnly predict that two more sinners remain to be punished! I cannot foresee who they will be, but when I think of Valor and Compassion...
"Good heavens! When did these wonderful qualities become so rare?
"Does this country still possess knights who truly embody all Five Chivalric Virtues?"
A large crowd had gathered around Herold as he delivered his proclamation, and by this point the listeners were murmuring among themselves.
Everything the crier had said was technically true, but Victor knew it was part of Syanna's strategy to manipulate public opinion.
When Herold paused his speech, Victor stepped forward and pulled him aside.
"Hey! Don't be afraid. Remember me?"
Herold looked him up and down and quickly recognized the witcher.
"Ah! It's you... the alchemist from east of Zerrikania, right?
"You're very easy to remember. You're a rare sort of customer, generous with your coin and actually capable of delivering what you promise. Did you know people were still coming to ask me whether I knew where you'd gone as recently as last month?"
Victor smiled and accepted the compliment.
"That speech about the Beast was interesting. Can you tell me who hired you to spread it?"
"I honestly don't know... Someone threw the script and the payment into my house in the middle of the night. I read it over and saw it was merely urging people to behave virtuously, so I accepted the job. Things like this aren't particularly unusual. Sometimes people even hire me to spread anonymous denunciations. Is something wrong?"
Seeing the alchemist again, Herold clearly had fond memories of Victor's generosity and answered everything he asked without reservation.
Victor shook his head. "No, I'm just curious!"
As expected, Syanna had left no obvious opening in such a minor matter. But regardless, her opponents were now the Toussaint authorities, who already had a clear trail to follow. As for this little propaganda campaign, it was ultimately encouraging people to behave better, so there was no real need to interfere.
"Thanks, Herold. It's good to see you again. Since you still remember last year's advertisement, you can help me spread the word again. I should be staying here for about a month. Anyone who needs help treating baldness or impotence can come find me at Corion Manor."
Herold accepted the plump little pouch of gold coins from Victor with a beaming smile, straightened himself up, and enthusiastically returned to his podium.
...
After finishing his tour of the Upper Town, Victor headed next to San Sebastian in the Lower Town. Comparing the address with the letter in his hand, he eventually found an old, run-down house.
He first put on his sunglasses, then knocked firmly on the wooden door.
A woman answered. One look at her made it obvious that life had worn her down over the years. Inside the house stood a little girl of around eight, staring at Victor with large, round, dark eyes.
"You... honored sir, may I ask what you need?"
Victor's freshly cleaned Undvik armor looked quite imposing on his tall, powerful frame. The woman instinctively shrank back and hunched her shoulders.
The young man in sunglasses smiled, stepped backward, and took a blonde-haired doll and a cute little comb from inside his coat.
"Don't be afraid. I work for The Rocking Horse. My employer received a letter from a little girl named Iza..."
The instant she saw the toy and heard Victor's words, the little girl inside practically bounced into the air. She ran to the doorway, hugged her mother's leg, and stared at the doll in Victor's hands with burning longing.
"Um... I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand what you mean..."
Sweat trickled along the wrinkles on the woman's face. The simple woman clearly had no idea what to do.
"There's no misunderstanding. You don't have to pay anything. This is simply a gift."
Victor gently reassured her, then crouched down and held the doll and comb out to the little girl.
"Remember what you wrote in your letter. Take good care of it. This is a gift from Mr. Dettlaff."
Iza hugged the toy gratefully, her eyes shining as she nodded again and again.
The young man in sunglasses then stood and addressed her mother.
"As far as I know, Corion Manor has recently been hiring workers. Food and lodging are provided. The only requirement is a willingness to work hard. Even if you don't have a trade, they'll train you from the beginning. If you need work, you can go there and give it a try."
After exchanging a few simple words with the woman, the young man in sunglasses quietly departed, as though he had never been there at all.
...
Letter to the Shopkeeper
Dear Mr. Toy Shop Owner,
I've been asking my mummy and daddy to buy me a toy for a very long time, but Mummy always cries and says we don't have any money. Whenever I ask Daddy when he'll start making money, he gets angry. One time he almost hit me.
All my friends have such pretty toys. Laura has a teddy bear, and Michelle has a blonde-haired doll whose hair can be brushed with a real comb.
I'm scared I'll never have a toy to play with, so I'm writing this letter to you, Mr. Shop Owner. I've wanted to write it for a very long time, but I didn't know how to write before. Now I do.
If you have any pretty toys that other children don't want anymore, could you please give one to me? The toy and I would both be very happy.
Please don't laugh at me. I'm still a child, but I know toys aren't really alive. They're only alive because we imagine they are.
But so what?
I would love it very much.
Iza
...
At sunset, the witcher sat on horseback and turned for one last look behind him.
The fading sunlight wove Beauclair into a city of gold, tranquil, peaceful, and beautiful.
"I can't help the whole world, but I can help the people I meet."
Victor folded the letter and carefully put it away. With a gentle smile on his face, he urged his horse southward, heading home.
//Check out my P@tre0n for 30 extra chapters //[email protected]/Razeil0810