Chapter 76

Chapter 76: Farewell

Having confirmed his next target, Lan bid farewell to Margarita.

"I'll be leaving Aretuza tonight."

Margarita looked up in surprise.

"So soon? Aren't you planning to convert those 1500 orens into strength as efficiently as possible? Money can be earned again, but you only have one life. Lan, you know what level of power you're dealing with, right?"

The golden-haired beauty's sea-blue eyes stared intently into Lan's cat-like gaze.

"Vizima is the capital of Temeria. There, even throwing a clump of mud could hit some high-ranking noble. Commoners may seem to live in the same city as them, but once they decide to wield their power, commoners are as fragile as ants."

"Do you know how much money it takes to deploy resources and influence to the dangerous, desolate lands of Velen, maintain a group of armed thugs, and build secret ports and watchtowers? Such a person, even in Vizima, would undoubtedly be one of the most formidable figures."

Margarita spoke earnestly, but Lan simply smiled and nodded. Clearly, he wasn't swayed.

"You're absolutely right, but Rita... you also know why I want to kill those scum, don't you?"

Faced with Lan's smile, Margarita's words faltered. She was reminded of that night in the camp. The witcher, surrounded and suppressed, had leaned against her cage—not for money, not for fame or glory.

Simply because he wanted to. He saw something vile and evil and decided to act. Even when outnumbered, hammered to the ground, vomiting blood, and overdosing on toxic potions, he kept fighting.

Such a man, once he decided on something, nothing could stop him.

He would fight until his last breath.

Margarita bit her plump lip, frowning in silence.

"I see... You're not trying to save money for yourself... You're not that kind of person. It seems the power this money can provide you has reached its limit." After a long pause, the golden-haired beauty spoke again.

She sighed and pulled a prism-shaped crystal from her magical handbag.

"This is a... well, never mind the magical jargon. It's a long-distance communication device, understand? Like a letter, but instead of delivering words, it delivers sound..."

Margarita tried her best to make her explanation simple, as she believed witchers generally lacked a solid educational foundation.

But Lan smiled knowingly the moment she mentioned "long-distance communication device."

"What's the communication range? How's the latency? How does it recharge? What's the audio clarity like?"

His barrage of questions stunned Margarita. In her dazed state, Lan took the prism crystal from her.

"You understand?" Her expression made Lan feel like she had previously thought of him as a nekkar that couldn't understand human speech.

But Margarita quickly became excited.

A handsome, strong, energetic witcher, now with the added bonus of a mind sharp enough to keep up with sorceresses!

This was a delightful surprise!

"I have the matching pair. Even if you're in Vizima, we can stay in touch. Recharging requires a mage, but don't worry. Once you reach Vizima, this crystal will be sensed by two of my friends there. They'll not only recharge it but also provide whatever help they can."

"Two friends?"

"Triss Merigold and Keira Metz. They're advisors assigned to Foltest, also graduates of this academy. You can trust them."

Margarita earnestly advised the witcher.

"If the enemy proves too powerful to overcome, you should return here. Both you and I have long lifespans, far longer than ordinary people. Our debts can be settled at any point in this long life. That's the worldview of long-lived beings. Do you understand?"

The young man nodded with a light smile, tucked the prism crystal into his chest, and turned to leave.

Long-lived beings should make good use of their lifespans. Lan understood this. But if he could elevate his strength to the point of crushing his enemies, who would refuse to settle the score on the spot?

Margarita didn't know if Lan had taken her words to heart, but she knew she couldn't stop him—and shouldn't.

After Lan left, Tissaia approached Margarita.

"A peculiar man, Rita. Above the Loxia Palace, there's probably no man in the world who wouldn't want to enter, given that it's filled with sorceresses."

Tissaia flicked her fingers, straightening the chair Lan had knocked askew when he stood up, then sat down, gazing at her stunningly beautiful student and friend.

"But you were wrong about one thing, Rita. The purge of those people isn't just about the blood debts between the two of you. It's also about Aretuza's dignity."

"Then what should I have told him? That he should fight to the death?" Margarita's retort carried a hint of frustration.

But Tissaia showed no reaction.

"No."

The teacher's answer made the golden-haired beauty look at her in surprise.

Tissaia continued calmly.

"You should still tell him to return, but you should also make him feel guilty. That way, you can bind him to your side. You really want to do that, don't you?"

"You don't need to hide it from me, because binding an exceptional witcher to you would also benefit the academy."

***

With his now bulging alchemy pouch, Lan and Arya left the isolated island where Aretuza was located and arrived in Gors Velen.

Lan first went to the blacksmith shop where Yoana and Fergus worked. There, he received good news: White had safely returned home, and Bernie hadn't been infected and was recovering.

The young dwarf looked Lan up and down, clicking his tongue.

"Tsk, for plague's sake, did your chestplate take a direct hammer blow? By my beard, it's a miracle you're still standing. The master isn't here today, but don't worry. Yoana can handle this small job!"

Beside him, the golden-haired, braided girl nodded with a bright smile. "Leave it to me."

While Yoana took the chestplate for repairs, Arya curiously circled Fergus. According to her, she had never seen a non-human race in her homeland.

This behavior annoyed Fergus greatly.

"Where did this wild child come from? Don't push me! Do something, Lan!"

The witcher grabbed the little girl by the collar and dragged her away from the dwarf.

Only then did Fergus have a chance to straighten his beard.

"Phew—If you've got business, spit it out, Lan. What else do you want to forge here?"

"Heh, Yoana's skilled, but when it comes to reading customers, she's not as good as you."

Lan smiled and slapped a blueprint onto the table. The design resembled the armguard he currently wore, but it had an additional tube on the inner wrist.

A rifled tube—in other words, a gun barrel.

"Can you modify it?"

Lan asked Fergus. Though the dwarf wasn't the most skilled, if he couldn't even tell what his shop could and couldn't do, he wouldn't even make a convincing front desk clerk.

The dwarf frowned, scratching his ruddy nose.

"What are you trying to do with this thing?"

"Honestly, I've been bullied too much by archers and crossbowmen lately." The witcher shrugged.

"I have a Sign that can create an impact force, so I thought of adding this tube to the armguard and preparing some projectiles. With my control, I can focus the impact force entirely behind the tube. At that point, the projectile's destructive power wouldn't be worse than a heavy crossbow."

Fergus nodded thoughtfully. "That's an unusual idea, but I get it. The key thing I want to ask about is these spiral grooves inside... Are you joking with this precision requirement?"

"If it's too difficult, just a few grooves will do. It's just a matter of effective range. Either way, it'll shoot farther than a pure Sign."

"Then it's doable, but don't get too excited. Master isn't here. A major modification like this has to be done by him. Yoana can't handle it."

"I see..." Lan clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Guess I won't be using it this time."