Chapter 124: The Nilfgaardian Factor
POV: Adam
The abandoned farmhouse smelled of rot and secrets.
Lambert had secured the perimeter, his witcher senses ensuring no observers lurked in the surrounding fields. Inside, candlelight illuminated faces that shouldn't have been meeting—Cahir and three nobles whose presence in coalition territory could be considered treason.
"Thank you for coming." Cahir's greeting carried weight that transcended courtesy. "What we discuss cannot reach Emperor Emhyr's ears."
"Yet you're discussing it anyway." I studied the nobles—men whose expensive clothes had been deliberately dirtied to avoid attention during travel. "Why risk everything helping enemies?"
"Because the Hunt is everyone's enemy." The oldest noble—Count Varen, according to Cahir's introduction—spoke with the careful precision of someone accustomed to dangerous conversations. "Emperor Emhyr maintains neutrality publicly, but many of us recognize the threat. If the Hunt defeats your coalition, Nilfgaard becomes next target."
"So you're hedging bets."
"We're ensuring civilization survives regardless of political outcomes." Varen's smile held no warmth. "If coalition wins, Nilfgaard claims we secretly supported the effort. If Hunt wins... well, we'll all be dead anyway."
—Scene Break—
POV: Ciri
The intelligence they offered proved invaluable.
"Hunt activity near Nilfgaardian borders has increased significantly." A younger noble—Baron Morvran—spread maps across the farmhouse's single table. "Our mages have tracked dimensional fluctuations consistent with your device's readings. They're testing barriers everywhere, not just coalition territory."
"The Emperor knows this?"
"The Emperor believes he can negotiate with dimensional invaders." Cahir's disgust was audible. "He's researching their magic, seeking to understand Elder Blood's capabilities for imperial purposes. Even now, with evidence that the Hunt threatens everyone, Emhyr schemes to profit from crisis."
"That's... remarkably shortsighted."
"That's ambition consuming wisdom." Cahir's eyes found Ciri's. "He suspects you're alive, by the way. The death deception is holding officially, but his private intelligence contradicts the public narrative. Once the Hunt is dealt with, expect renewed attention."
Through the soulbond, I felt Ciri's exhaustion—not physical but emotional. Another threat beyond the immediate crisis, another enemy planning to claim her after she'd survived the current danger.
"We'll deal with Emhyr when the time comes," I sent through our bond.
"The time never stops coming. There's always another threat, another schemer, another person who wants to use what I am."
"Then we face them together. Same as always."
—Scene Break—
POV: Geralt
The witcher assessed Cahir during the intelligence exchange with professional attention.
The Nilfgaardian knight had changed since Mahakam—the desperate hunter transformed into something approaching genuine ally. His family's safety remained Emperor's leverage, but his loyalty had clearly shifted toward those who'd shown him mercy when execution would have been simpler.
"You're risking execution helping us." Geralt spoke during a break in the main discussion. "Why?"
"Because the Emperor I served no longer exists." Cahir's admission came quiet. "Emhyr was always ruthless, but he was also pragmatic. The man I swore loyalty to would have recognized the Hunt's threat and acted accordingly. This version—obsessed with Elder Blood, maintaining neutrality while dimensions collapse—I don't recognize him anymore."
"People change."
"People reveal themselves when stakes are high enough." Cahir's gaze found Adam across the room. "Your element-wielder saved my family through mercy I didn't deserve. That debt demands repayment regardless of what empire I officially serve."
"Debts can be repaid without treason."
"Some debts require treason to honor." The knight's smile held bitter acceptance. "I've made my choice. If it costs my life, at least I'll die serving what I actually believe rather than what I've been ordered to believe."
—Scene Break—
POV: Adam
The meeting concluded with practical arrangements—communication methods, intelligence sharing protocols, emergency contacts if situations deteriorated.
"One more thing." Count Varen hesitated at the farmhouse door. "Emperor Emhyr has been developing countermeasures specifically for Princess Cirilla. Magical dampeners, binding wards, containment chambers. If the Hunt falls and you survive, expect his collection attempt to be... comprehensive."
"We've anticipated that."
"Have you? His preparations began years ago, funded without limit, designed by the finest mages empire gold could purchase. Underestimating Nilfgaardian determination would be fatal mistake."
"Then we won't underestimate it." I met the Count's assessment with certainty I didn't entirely feel. "We've faced sorceresses, dimensional invaders, and kings with agendas. One more threat joins the queue."
"Pragmatic. Good." Varen departed without further pleasantry, leaving us in the farmhouse's guttering candlelight.
Cahir remained.
"I should return before my absence is noticed." But he made no move to leave. "If this is the last time we speak..."
"It won't be."
"If it is—thank you. For trusting when trust was dangerous. For mercy when vengeance was justified." His hand extended. "Whatever happens, know that at least one Nilfgaardian fought for the right side."
I took his hand, felt the weight of alliance forged through unlikely circumstances.
"Survive the next month. We'll need you when Emhyr makes his move."
"I'll do my best." His smile held genuine warmth. "Stay alive yourself, Storm-Brother. The world needs people who heal refugee camps when wars are coming."
[ XP Gained: 300 (Espionage, Political Coordination) ]
[ Level 48: 95% toward Level 49 ]
[ Cahir Relationship: 70/100 - Trusted Ally ]
[ Nilfgaardian Intelligence: Acquired ]
—Scene Break—
POV: Ciri
The journey back to coalition territory passed in reflective silence.
"Emhyr. Radovid. The Lodge. The Hunt." She counted enemies on her fingers. "Four major threats, and defeating one just means facing the next."
"Five, if you count chaos and bad luck." Lambert's contribution earned tired smiles.
"The price of power." Geralt's observation came heavy with experience. "Weakness invites conquest, but strength invites challenge. There's no position where threats disappear entirely—just different threats requiring different responses."
"Comforting philosophy."
"Realistic philosophy. The alternative is pretending safety exists somewhere if you're just clever or strong enough to find it." The witcher's golden eyes found Ciri's. "Calanthe believed she could protect Cintra through walls and armies. Your mother believed she could protect you through secrecy and distance. Neither worked. The only protection that lasts is capability to face whatever comes."
"And allies willing to face it with you." Adam's hand found hers. "We're not alone, Ciri. Whatever Emhyr plans, whatever the Lodge schemes, whatever threats emerge after the Hunt—we face them together. All of us."
Through their bond, she felt his certainty—not about victory, but about partnership. The world would keep producing threats as long as they possessed power worth taking. But power shared among people who trusted each other was harder to claim than power held alone.
"Four weeks until the Hunt attacks." She squeezed his hand. "Then we find out if our preparations are enough."
"They'll have to be. We've done everything possible."
"Has anyone, anywhere, ever done everything possible?"
"Probably not. But we've come closer than most."
The road stretched ahead toward Skellige, toward home, toward a battle that would determine whether their coalition survived or dimensional invaders consumed everything they'd built.
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