Chapter 10: The Flip of the Hand
"Lord Baron, I have fulfilled our agreement and killed the griffin that was harassing your domain. Here is the trophy."
Inside the Castle of Amavet, Coën stood ramrod straight, forcing himself to ignore the pain. His leg bone was not yet healed, so he had Arthur present the griffin's head.
"What an ugly brute." The Steward stood in front of Arthur, his hand obscuring his nose in a patronizingly unpleasant manner, though it was unclear if he was referring to the griffin or something else. He did not accept the trophy.
Arthur took a deep breath and spoke calmly: "We have completed our agreement. Please return the schematics to us."
"The agreement is complete? How would I know that?"
"You offered a bounty for the griffin, and we killed the griffin. What else would this be if not the completion of the agreement?"
"Laughable. Who said the griffin was killed by you?!"
The Steward let out a sharp, piercing laugh and clapped his hands. A few servants walked toward a corner of the courtyard. There, several blood-stained sheets covered a large object.
Arthur's heart violently thumped, a feeling of ill omen rising within him.
When the sheets were pulled back, that premonition became reality it was the headless corpse of a griffin, the height of two men.
The Steward leaped back suddenly, pointing at the two men and shouting:
"You vile cheats! Young Lord Florian clearly killed the griffin, and you stole its head while he was resting! Now you claim the feat as your own!"
Large numbers of soldiers poured out of the corridors on both sides of the courtyard. Every one of them had their ears plugged and wore tortoise-shaped stones around their necks. (Tortoise-shaped stones: believed by locals to ward off magic.)
The Steward jumped three meters back, screaming:
"Guards! Seize these two fraudulent thieves! I'll make them taste the gallows!"
This turn of events was startlingly sudden. Arthur looked back at Coën in astonishment, and the Witcher's smile was worse than a grimace:
"To think I spent my entire life being cautious, only to be ambushed in a gutter like this."
Before coming to the Castle of Amavet, the two had argued. Arthur thought they were too injured and should rest before turning in the mission at least let the leg heal.
But the Witcher valued those two schematics more than his life. Fearing that a delay would lead to the Baron changing his mind, Coën came dragging his injured leg after only one night of rest.
He never expected the nobles of White Orchard to be so dishonorable not only making the Witcher work for free but now trying to eliminate them entirely!
But what was the motive? I never asked for a reward!
While the old veteran Coën stood bewildered, Arthur was not idle. He violently hurled the griffin's head in his hands. The lamb-sized head smashed into the Steward, sending the man tumbling backward. The man and the beast's head rolled across the ground, utterly scrambling the soldiers' formation.
Arthur spun around to pull Coën away, but the Witcher twisted him around instead.
"Run, you fool."
Amidst the familiar, gentle shockwave, Arthur was flung away like a leaf. When he landed again, he was outside the main gate.
He had once again been thrown clear of danger by Kolgrim Aard Sign.
"Come with me!" Arthur roared, scrambling to his feet. Just as he was about to rush back, he saw Coën forced to his knees by several long spears.
"I'll come back for you! I promise!"
Seeing the remaining soldiers pursuing him with crossbows, Arthur turned and ran.
They were prepared for this. The enemy held the advantage in numbers, equipment, and organization, and they had taken measures to defend against the Battle Cry. Fighting here would only ensure Kolgrim premature death.
His own escape, however, might make the Baron hesitate, temporarily sparing Kolgrim life.
After all, as the sages once said, everyone has their moments when they are caught alone!
Crossbow bolts whizzed past, either embedding themselves in tree trunks or striking rocks to spark flames. A sudden clarity washed over Arthur they were shooting too hastily.
The soldiers advanced with measured, unhurried steps, spreading out into small squads, always keeping a few crossbows cocked and ready. Seeing no opportunity to close the gap, Arthur turned and ran toward a copse of trees.
When it came to familiarity with the terrain, Arthur, the outsider, was clearly no match for the native-born soldiers. Running haphazardly, he ended up cornered in an isolated grove.
Seeing no escape, Arthur's eyes flashed with ferocity. Inside the woods, the enemy's advantages in numbers and equipment would be largely neutralized. It was the perfect stage for a last stand! If their formation even slightly loosened, Arthur could use his superior individual combat ability to strike them down and then use them as hostages!
"Come on! Come and get me!" Arthur roared.
However, no matter how much he provoked them, the soldiers simply refused to enter. Their composure was something Arthur had to admire.
Entering the woods to catch one man? No chance. The Baron was notoriously cheap; even if they captured him alive, the reward wouldn't amount to more than a few Crowns. If they got slashed twice by the lad, the loss would be tremendous!
On the other side, seeing that they wouldn't enter, Arthur simply leaned against a large tree and sat down, taking the opportunity to recover his stamina while contemplating his next move.
The sun began to dip, and the twilight glow filtered through the tree trunks, shining harshly on Arthur's face. But instead of annoyance, he felt a surge of excitement:
As the sages once said, the dark is the companion of the brave.
If they wouldn't come in, why shouldn't he go out? A night battle was a heaven-sent opportunity for the weaker side to defeat the strong!
When the moon was obscured by a dark cloud, Arthur silently slipped out of the grove.
He couldn't see a thing in the pitch black. He felt his way in the direction he remembered the soldiers being, occasionally stumbling over a rock. He was fully prepared for a shout, the sudden flare of torches, and a dozen blades thrusting at him at once.
But nothing happened, not even after he finally stepped onto the firm road.
Where are they? Where did they all go?
As he wondered, a gust of wind scattered the clouds, and the moon emerged. Arthur instinctively crouched low, waiting a moment before peering out.
In the moonlight-silvered wilderness, the exposed earth looked as if it were coated in frost, leaving nothing hidden.
Outside the woods, he could vaguely see scattered wine bottles, but not a single person he had already walked past the soldiers' resting place.
Those bastards retreated already!? It was a chase, for crying out loud. Are they that perfunctory?
Ah, right. Ordinary people don't know the difference between an apprentice and a Witcher.
They must have assumed I possess a Witcher's dark vision and were afraid of being at a disadvantage in a night fight, which is why they abandoned the pursuit.
That is information worth exploiting…
With that realization, Arthur wasted no more time and turned toward the castle.
But perhaps because the Baron had done so many despicable things, the castle walls were built smooth and towering, and even the drawbridge was raised in short, there was no way for Arthur to enter with his current skills.
Since force was out of the question, Arthur reluctantly chose to use his brain:
The situation was that this Baron was clearly evil but excessively cautious, locking his castle down like an iron barrel. He could only find a solution from the outside.
But what solution could be found outside? Arthur pondered for a long time, and then his eyes turned ruthless:
The hell with it. The Baron can hide himself and his soldiers in the castle, but can he hide all the soldiers' families too?
Given his disdainful attitude toward Witchers, surely binding a few hostages would be enough to secure a trade!
Having settled on a plan, Arthur turned and walked toward Hoffer Village:
The hostage plan was good, but he didn't know which villagers were related to the soldiers. He needed help from a local.
Elder Walker was resolute, intelligent, and, most crucially, had a bigger grudge against the Baron than Arthur did. He was the perfect person to help!
....
AN: Check out my Patreon For +80 extra chapters.
Thank You For your Support!!
👉 Join now: patreon.com/Chaos_God