Decision.

—

"Man, that's a damn cool trick. Think you could teach me?"

Landing his feet on the deck of a ship and hearing this request, Richard simply replied, "No," to Lambert. It wasn't that this Witcher couldn't learn it, but Richard was unwilling since he had just met him. Especially knowing that the blood that flows through his hands includes a number of decent folk. This applied not just to Lambert but to almost anyone on this ship. By modern standards, many of them could be considered wicked. For now, he would hold off on teaching until he found a suitable successor with morals and integrity similar to his own, or at least close to it.

"Slayer, Sir. Here's for you."

Taking a towel and shirt from Jaina's hand, Richard replied, "Just call me Richard."

Seeing her nod in silence and still standing there waiting for him, Richard wiped the seawater off his body and asked, "Is there anything else?"

"The Arch-Mistress wishes to invite Sir Richard to join in for a discussion on everyone's next destination. Everybody else has already assembled."

Nodding his head, he walked in the direction of the cabin while putting on the shirt Jaina gave him. At the same time, he contemplated the pros and cons of teaching his breathing technique to kids like Jaina, who had not yet experienced much of the world and could be considered blank slates. He thought he could cultivate them to follow his moral conduct and ensure they had the same mindset as him. However, after thinking for a bit, he decided against it, knowing from Margarita's stories about Aretuza that this approach would not work out in the end.

Deciding that he would only impart his teachings to someone already mature with a lot of experience, Richard opened the door of the cabin and leaned against the wall in the corner, silently listening to the conversation.

"After the attack at Kaer Morhen, we all went our separate ways. Yen, Zoltan, Roche, Ves, and I teleported to Novigrad. Before that, Mousesack, Hjalmar, and his men had already departed for Skellige using Yen's portal. Meanwhile, Keira, Lambert, Letho, Eskel, Geralt, Avallac'h, and Ciri remained at Kaer Morhen."

"I'm not sure exactly what happened, but three days ago, Novigrad was suddenly besieged by an army of the Wild Hunt. The Naglfar was flying in the sky, seemingly searching for something. Then, as quickly as they arrived, they vanished, leaving behind only a small portal. It was around that time that I lost track of Yen. I believe Ciri found her and took her away before the Wild Hunt could follow them."

"As everyone knows, at first, the Aen Elle only stationed themselves outside the city without doing anything. Then today the sky ripped open, revealing a different planet. Shortly after, it closed again, but the effects lingered, transforming the portal. Then monsters from Aen Elle appeared, killed the Wild Hunt soldiers, and began attacking Novigrad."

"Then Slayer shows up, kills the monster, and saves our sorry arses. Now we're a bunch of lost souls trying to stick together and make sense of this mess."

Looking up to see Gudrun, the pirate and also one of the ship owners mentioning him, Richard returned to his breathing meditation while silently listening to the conversation once again.

Margarita, upon hearing Triss's recounting, then asked Keira, the second-to-last lead they had regarding Ciri, "So, Keira, do you know where Ciri and Geralt went? You are the ones who last saw them."

"Unfortunately, no. Lambert and I woke up that morning to find they had already left, leaving the Aen Elle Sage in a foul mood. But... I did notice Ciri glancing at a calendar and mentioning the Sabbath festival. Wait! They're in Velen! I'm certain of it. There are witches who dwell deep in Velen's swamps. Once a year, they celebrate an important feast attended by local peasants, honoring these witches known as the Ladies of the Woods. Hearing Ciri mention the Sabbath, perhaps she wants to go there. I'm not sure what she wants, but I'm certain they are in Velen."

"Honey, don't be stupid. If Geralt and Ciri are still there, there's no reason for the Wild Hunt to besiege Novigrad. Besides, the Sabbath occurred four days ago. The timing simply doesn't make sense."

The room fell into silence after Philippa said that, with only the sound of crashing waves for company. Suddenly, Richard's memories jolted awake. He remembered playing in front of the computer, staring at the screen with four options to choose from. He picked the first option to stay silent, followed by a gut-wrenching reply from a woman with silver hair.

In that moment, he also heard a distant anguished cry from the woman, tormented by the freezing cold. Bit by bit, the cold destroyed every blood cell and neuron in her body while she remained semi-conscious. Every ounce of her willpower and strength was poured into the white substance in front of her, uncaring that it was destroying what made her special. But in the process, the part of her being destroyed wished Richard were there, calling him to save their lady from eternal darkness.

Coming back to his senses after that brief episode, Richard unconsciously uttered a word, breaking the silence, "Skellige."

"What?"

Looking at Philippa Eilhart, Richard answered again, "Skellige. I think Ciri might be in Skellige."

"Not to insult your understanding or anything. But are you sure? You just arrived here because of the Conjunction of the Spheres. How do you even know about Skellige or what Ciri looks like?"

"R-Richard. I-is that true? Is Ciri currently there? Is she in danger? Is Geralt implicated as well?"

Ignoring the skeptical Philippa, who had good reason to question him, Richard turned to the red-haired sorceress, "Yes. Ciri is in danger. She is currently battling a white substance that freezes everything around it. As for Geralt, I am sorry, I cannot tell you. I don't know who she is."

"Well, well, well, this will be an interesting story. I cannot wait to tell Geralt that his manly name was once mistaken for a charming sorceress's name."

Letting out a soft 'oh' sound after hearing the bard's exclamation—since he did think that Triss was caring for another sorceress, not her boyfriend—Richard apologized to the red-haired woman, "I am sorry."

"None taken."

Chuckling at the embarrassed Triss, who was as red as a tomato, Margarita finally suggested, "How about this? We'll split into two groups. One group will retrace Ciri's whereabouts and go to Kaer Morhen, while the other goes straight to Skellige, as Richard suggested."

—