Aldric was a witcher apprentice who had entered the trade halfway through his life. Even counting the time he had spent fleeing alongside other witchers, his total experience as an apprentice barely exceeded half a month. Though he learned quickly, he was still new to this path.
After hearing Aldric's explanation, the witch regarded him with a complex expression—one that seemed to mix regret and hesitation, as if she already regretted the promise she had made earlier.
"Fine," she finally sighed, her voice carrying the weight of years. "I suppose I don't really have a choice."
From that weary tone, Aldric could sense a certain melancholy—an exhaustion that only long years of hardship could leave behind. He couldn't help but feel that, perhaps like his own mentor, this witch had experienced countless trials and tragedies over her long life. The flippant, mocking demeanor she usually displayed might only be a mask—one hiding pain and fatigue beneath.
"Young apprentice," the witch said softly, rising from her couch and snapping her fingers, "I never imagined the day would come when I would have to lecture a witcher—telling your kind about our history."
In the next instant, Aldric's sharp senses noticed that the entire space around them had changed. The air grew heavy and viscous, as though every breath carried weight. Vittoria, the female warrior standing nearby, suddenly froze in place her body stiff and unmoving, her hand still holding the small cat figurine she'd been inspecting moments ago.
"What did you do?" Aldric asked, instinctively taking a few steps back, preparing for combat.
"Relax, young apprentice," the witch said, waving her hand lazily. "What we're about to discuss is not meant for other ears. I merely sealed her senses. When we finish speaking, she won't even notice that time has passed."
She gestured toward the table, and two cups of steaming pink liquid appeared. "From the ancient days of the celestial convergence, our world has suffered constant erosion from the forces of Chaos, not only in the material realm, but in the realm of the soul as well."
Pouring the warm drink into two delicate cups, she smiled faintly. "Try it. It's rose elixir something I brewed myself."
As she pushed a cup toward Aldric, she continued, "Some people are simply born more sensitive than others. From childhood, their unusual talents begin to show. In ancient times, we were called sorcerers and witches. Now, they call us children of calamity."
Her voice grew ethereal in the rising steam. "Because we are more sensitive to power than others, we are also more susceptible to the temptations of Chaos. The allure of such overwhelming strength—it's something we can almost touch. No need for sweat or blood. Just a small indulgence of desire… and it becomes ours."
Her tone darkened, trembling with buried memories. "Many succumbed. They turned to Chaos and became slaves to their own lusts. Those who thirsted for blood drowned in their own; those lost to carnal desire became neither man nor woman; those who sought eternal life became nothing but undying, writhing flesh; and those obsessed with schemes were cast into endless labyrinths of deceit, forever lost within their own minds. The Dark Gods always delight in such tragedies."
The witch fell silent after speaking. Aldric did not interrupt her.
"Some of us, however, resisted temptation," she went on after a pause. "In our hatred, we sought to study the very essence of Chaos itself. But the sins our kind inflicted upon the world run too deep they will never be forgiven."
She suddenly looked up, her eyes burning beneath her hood. "Yet what of the innocent children, the ones who've just awakened to their powers? They've done nothing wrong! Why should they bear such a curse?"
She stopped again, as if to gauge Aldric's reaction. Though her hood concealed her face, he could feel her gaze upon him.
"I understand," Aldric said after a moment. "War always drags the innocent into its wake." He chose his words carefully before continuing, "But if you want me to help you protect those so-called innocent children, then you'd better explain, objectively, what exactly this Black Ship is."
"Even the innocent can become a window for Chaos," he added coldly, his tone edged with killing intent. "Where I come from, our creed is simple 'Better to slay three thousand by mistake than to let one escape.'"
The witch's hand, resting on the couch, tightened slightly. "You truly are Gonz's apprentice," she murmured. "Always so merciless when it comes to matters of principle."
"The Black Ship," she continued, "belongs to the Sisters of the Pure Heart. They use it to transport newly awakened Seeds between the Old and New Wolrd. That's what they call us—Seeds—as if we're all ticking alchemical bombs waiting to explode." Her tone was laced with bitterness and hatred.
"Tell me about these Sisters of the Pure Heart," Aldric demanded, his tone cold and interrogative.
"The Sisters of the Pure Heart," the witch said, her voice trembling slightly, "always bring terror wherever they appear. In the name of the Witch Kings, they walk the world, hunting down all newly awakened Seeds. The Witch Kings rule over the New World, they are the true masters of the Sisterhood."
Her voice hardened. "After the Chaos Corruption calamity, those terrible Witch Kings gathered women consumed by hatred and pain, training the most gifted among them into Silent Sisters. These women now command the massive black ships, collecting Seeds as sacrifices to their masters."
"They burn countless innocents, mostly children and young adults alive in the Witch Kings' plazas, offering them up in the name of 'protecting the world from Chaos.'" The witch paused, her expression cold. "I need you to help me save three children who were taken aboard one of those ships."
Aldric looked at her as if she were mad. "Even if I don't know much about the Silent Sisters or the Witch Kings, what they do—while cruel—doesn't seem entirely wrong from a broader perspective. Besides, I alone can't accomplish what you're asking."
The witch inhaled sharply. "You don't understand. They are nothing like the witchers. They stand apart from all others. Their loyalty belongs only to the Witch Kings. I'm not asking you to attack the ship. We already have people for that. The Black Ship will dock at Port Anthony in two days for resupply. I need you to hide the rescued children for one month after the operation."
"Don't be so quick to refuse," she said hurriedly, raising a hand before he could reply. "Aside from those trinkets you're trying to sell, I have something you can't refuse."
Dangling from her slender fingers was a pendant—identical to the [Damaged Pendant] Aldric carried.
"I believe this interests you," she said. "And besides, our Witch Coven has long maintained friendly relations with the more moderate factions among the witchers. You can ask your teacher if you doubt me."
Her rushed tone made it clear, she had no one else to turn to. Aldric realized that even if he hadn't come to sell her his loot, the witch would have sought him out regardless.
But before he could reply, a familiar system notification appeared before his eyes:
[Quest: The Witch's Request]
A sudden plea from the witch leaves you deep in thought. On one side stands your cooperative ally, the witch; on the other, an unknown yet powerful enemy. With the seasoned Sir Gonz no longer by your side, you feel uncertain.
Will you help the witch and her coven, or side with the Sisters of the Pure Heart?
(Be warned: your decision in this quest will affect your faction alignment. Choose carefully.)
Difficulty: Unknown (to be updated after choice)
Rewards: Unknown (to be updated after choice)
Aldric hadn't expected the witch's request to involve a faction-choice questline. Clearly, the Witch Coven and the Sisters of the Pure Heart stood as opposing forces—and now he had to pick one as his ally, making the other his enemy.
Or perhaps… he could choose to help neither, staying neutral and watching from the sidelines.
(End of Chapter)