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Chapter 93 The Mage's Escape Plan
Chapter 93 The Mage's Escape Plan
The ball at Wiggibunde Estate was held as scheduled, and the banquet was filled with the sweet aroma of perfume and mead.
Several elegantly dressed nobles were gathered around the table, praising the blackberry mead provided by Carradine and marveling at its rich and unique taste.
Some say it was the work of a rising wine merchant in Redania, while others speculate that it was a rare import from Toussaint.
As the clock struck midnight and fireworks exploded in the night sky, Albert Wiggibund quietly slipped away under the cover of Geralt and Triss.
Almost simultaneously, deep within the intricate sewers of Novigrad.
Ron walked through the underground passage, the regular army squad following behind him remaining silent, with only the slight rustling of armor.
Traces of the previous battle with Katakan remain here, and soldiers have blocked the fork in the road with makeshift roadblocks to ensure that the fleeing group does not go the wrong way.
"The route is safe," Ron checked one last time, then turned to the soldiers and ordered, "Retreat, back to the tavern."
After the ball ended, Geralt and Triss emerged from the side gate of the manor, where several figures in dark cloaks were already waiting at the agreed-upon alleyway. Some of them were alchemists who had once taught at the academy.
Some were well-known astrologers in Novigrad's aristocratic circles, while others were younger apprentice sorcerers. Her hands were still trembling slightly; just a few days ago, she had witnessed her companion being dragged to the stake by a witch hunter.
"Hurry, go in," Triss urged in a low voice, pushing open the tavern door.
The moment everyone entered the hall, their footsteps stopped in unison. The corners of the hall and the corridors on the second floor were filled with heavily guarded soldiers.
They wore armor with a cold, hard sheen, lined with long chainmail, and their purple robes and cloaks were adorned with the crest of a roaring lion.
The moment the group entered the tavern, the soldiers moved—"Clang!"
The rhythmic scraping of swords as they were drawn filled the hall, and soldiers instantly raised their crossbows, pointing them at the crowd.
Several sorceresses helplessly covered their mouths, tears of terror welling up in their eyes.
"Triss... what happened?" someone asked, trembling. "Are we... ambushed?"
"Don't be afraid," Triss quickly reassured him softly. "They're our own people, Geralt's friends, a very powerful lord. These are his soldiers."
The weeping sorceress stopped sobbing, looked at Triss, her eyes filled with hope, "Really—really? That's wonderful..."
""
At that moment, Erwin emerged from the shadows and waved to the soldiers. The soldiers lowered their weapons and crossbows and disappeared into the shadows in the corner, as if the tense standoff had never happened.
Erwin led his group through the hidden door. Triss quickly counted the number of people, then her expression changed drastically. She strode over to Geralt's side.
"Geralt, there's been an unexpected situation," Triss's voice was tense.
"Some people haven't arrived yet. The witch hunters are too fast. They've sealed off the city gates, set up guards everywhere, and started a city-wide search. Anyone who seems suspicious will be stopped. Most of them are civilians carrying rabbit feet or lucky horseshoes, but with this kind of search, it's inevitable that they'll catch real mages."
"How can I help?" Geralt asked.
"The situation is alright for now. Most of the mages have gathered here, and Ron's soldiers are guarding the Kingfisher area, so it's relatively safe. However, a few people haven't arrived yet. I think they're intimidated by the increased patrols along the way."
Who are they?
Berthol and Annies haven't arrived yet.
"who are they?"
"A young couple, the man an alchemist practicing in Geldorf, the woman a student in Aretusa, I suspect that their hiding person betrayed them."
Triss turned to look at the silent soldiers. "Luckily, Ron arranged a new hiding place for me, otherwise I probably wouldn't have made it out alive."
"Do you need me to send soldiers with you?" Erwin approached. "Ron has taken some men to clear the route; they should be back soon."
"No, that's too conspicuous," Triss shook her head. "Geralt and I went to pick them up and came right back."
Geralt and Triss evaded the guards and passed through several secluded alleys. When they arrived at Berthold and Annies's hideout, witch hunters were already blocking the second floor.
"Please, we haven't done anything wrong," Berthold's pleading voice came from the second floor.
"That's right, I hear that every day," the witch hunter sneered, her hand already on the hilt of her sword.
Geralt and Triss emerged from the shadows. The witch hunter turned her head warily, her gaze sweeping over Geralt before settling on Triss's face, a slow grin spreading across her lips.
"Merigold, and a witcher too, haha, we only prepared two stakes, now we need four!"
The steel sword was drawn from its sheath from behind, flashing cold light. By the time Geralt sheathed the sword, several witch hunters were already lying on the ground.
"Are you alright? Can you still walk?" Geralt asked.
Annies was pale but remained relatively calm. "No...no problem."
"No, I won't leave here!" Berthold suddenly became agitated.
"I'm not stupid. Don't you understand the situation outside? We'll be arrested halfway there; how could we possibly reach the port..."
"6
"I can't guarantee you'll be safe coming with us," Geralt said, staring into his eyes, "but staying here will certainly mean death."
"We'll hide and come out again when things calm down!"
"Hiding in Novigrad? What a stupid idea!" Geralt sighed. "But there might be a way. Do you know Velen?"
"Welen?" Bertholdt paused, taken aback. "That's Nilfgaardian territory. I heard it's now under the control of a powerful lord, and even Nilfgaardian soldiers don't dare to plunder there anymore. But... what does that have to do with us?"
"Yes, that lord is my friend. He's also assisting with this escape plan with his soldiers. If you think it's too risky to go out now, then stay here for the night. Someone will pick you up tomorrow, and you can take refuge in his territory. He's currently recruiting alchemists and sorcerers, and you're the kind of people he needs. Besides, he has a personal grudge against Radovid and doesn't care about offending Redania."
Berthold and Annies exchanged a glance, their eyes revealing obvious attraction.
"Alright, we'll hide well," Annie said eagerly. "If that lord is truly willing to protect us, I swear I will repay him with all my life's knowledge. Also... thank you, Witcher, Triss, for taking such a great risk to find us."
Geralt nodded to Triss, and the two turned and left, quickly returning to the Kingfisher Tavern.
In the underground cellar of the Kingfisher Tavern, the lights flickered, and a dozen or so warlocks stood scattered against the wall, some pacing back and forth anxiously.
Someone was crouching in a corner flipping through notes. A male sorcerer with a mustache saw Triss come down and immediately went to greet her, "Triss, we were all very worried."
"We should be worried, the witch hunters are hot on our heels," Triss replied hastily. "Geralt, I'll go check on them," she said, then turned and left.
Geralt's gaze swept over the anxious faces in the cellar, but he didn't see Ron. Just then, he heard a familiar and slick voice.
"Oh, beautiful lady, why are you crying? You shouldn't be so sad; it dims your beauty."
Dikoscher, with his large, protruding belly, was comforting a heartbroken sorceress, who was taken aback by his sudden words.
Geralt walked over. "Judging from this, you seem to be overly sad."
"No, I was just born ugly," Dix replied without turning his head. The sorceress next to him couldn't help but laugh at their humorous banter.
"What are you doing here? Are you also fleeing to Corviel?" Geralt asked.
"No... I just helped others escape. You know... I'm a kind-hearted person by nature." Dixcher lowered his hands from his chest and blinked.
"Ah, so you're only showing kindness now? Compared to the alchemists and witches who were burned to death in the square, isn't it a bit too late?"
"Kindness is always hidden behind many misunderstandings. Of course, gaining the friendship of Chief Mage Kowell is also a good choice," Dixcher rubbed his chubby hands together.
At that moment, a bearded sorcerer interrupted their conversation in a low voice. "Shh, Triss is about to speak."