Chapter 369: When the King Makes a Mistake
After leaving Oakes and the others, Lynn went to find George, who was in a state of meditation.
Lynn initially didn't want to disturb George, but George, sensing approaching footsteps, voluntarily came out of his meditation.
"Lynn."
"George, I need you to do something for me," Lynn said directly.
George pulled out a chair and motioned for Lynn to sit down: "Speak freely."
Lynn nodded: "If I recall correctly, the Griffin School's stronghold, Kaer Seren, is located in Poviss, right?"
"That's correct. It's a castle on the coastline," George's expression darkened. "But the castle has been buried by an avalanche triggered by a blizzard summoned by a sorcerer."
Kaer Seren Castle was originally built by sorcerers. It stood on the cliffs of the Poviss coastline, backed by the Dragon Mountains, giving it an extremely advantageous geographical location. To a mortal's eye, it was an absolutely impregnable fortress. If attacking the castle from land, there was only one bridge to cross; even if the defenders didn't destroy the bridge, the attackers would struggle to take the castle using just that bridge.
But magic was different. Sorcerers, jealous of the massive repository of knowledge within Kaer Seren, summoned an avalanche, burying the priceless castle along with almost all the witchers inside.
"But if I recall correctly, an old witcher still guards the ruined castle and hasn't left?"
"Are you referring to Mentor Kaerda?"
Kaerda was the Griffin School's equivalent of Vesemir. Even Erland of Larvik, the founder of the Griffin School, was heartbroken and left, his whereabouts unknown, after returning home and seeing the castle's tragedy. Yet Kaerda had remained at Kaer Seren, even training younger witchers like Coën and George. Even setting aside any utilitarian motive, merely to ensure a good retirement for such a respected elder, he should be invited to Kaer Morhen.
Under the dim sunlight, Foltest walked down a strange, silent street. The shops on both sides of the street were all closed, and neither the front nor the back of the street seemed to have an end. Foltest was certain that there was no such street in Vizima. What he couldn't figure out was how he had gotten here. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what he had been doing before.
Foltest, who rarely walked, grew exhausted after walking for an unknown duration. He didn't care about the dust on the ground and sat down directly. Resting his head, he suddenly noticed that the light casting his shadow was very strange, exuding an unnatural, murky yellow.
He instinctively raised his head.
Then, to his shock, he saw that the glowing object hanging in the sky was not the sun, but a gigantic Octopus.
As he looked at the Octopus, the Octopus was staring back at him. A strange whispering suddenly echoed in his mind. It was not something that should exist in this world, nor something humans should see. Even if the being's true body was not here, even if it was just a projection, merely making eye contact with it would...
Foltest suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest.
He instinctively looked down.
He saw that the spiked tip of the amulet hanging around his neck had pierced his heart. Crimson blood flowed from the wound, instantly staining his magnificent brocade robes. Foltest was startled, and then he suddenly opened his eyes.
Sunlight streamed through the window of the King's bedchamber. Tiny dust motes danced in the bright light.
After a comfortable hot bath, being dressed by his servants, and having breakfast, Foltest met with his loyal Royal Chancellor in the study. The Throne Room was where commands were announced and foreign envoys were received. When discussing domestic and foreign affairs—especially those involving other nobles—the King needed a more private setting, such as the King's study.
The Royal Chancellor was a corpulent, balding middle-aged man, but he occupied this position closest to the King not by looks, but by ability.
The Chancellor took out the materials he had collected and organized, and seriously reported on the situation in the Velen Province to Foltest. Based on multiple sources, he concluded:
He believed that Baron Vesselaard (维瑟拉德男爵), the acting lord of Velen, was extremely derelict in his duty. He only maintained order and security in Crow's Perch, where he lived, and in Gors Velen, the province's wealthiest, most developed, and most prosperous area, leaving the rest of the territory to fend for itself.
This situation was particularly severe in Southern Velen. Even the Baron's tax collectors often got lost in the Southern Velen countryside and never returned. Most of the spies he sent out also failed to come back. Even the survivors had become deranged.
The Royal Chancellor had spent a great deal of effort trying to piece together useful intelligence from the survivors' mad ravings:
He heard that in the Velen countryside, people no longer revered the gods or feared the King's majesty. They regularly held blasphemous rituals, willingly becoming slaves to evil.
Therefore, the Chancellor gravely advised Foltest, hoping His Majesty would send an iron-fisted noble to rule Velen and cleanse the corruption. Otherwise, if the situation was allowed to continue to deteriorate, the areas of Velen Province outside of Gors Velen would likely become a poisonous swamp overrun by evil, with unimaginable consequences.
The Royal Chancellor had spoken this long, heartfelt plea with a heavy heart, believing it was enough to make Foltest realize the severity of the problem. However, when he looked up, all he saw was Foltest's absent-minded expression.
"Your Majesty?"
"I'm listening," Foltest said, as if just startled awake. "Chancellor, you speak well. I will remember it."
The Royal Chancellor sighed. He looked at the liege he had watched grow up, who had inherited the throne as a teenager. Although he knew the man before him was no longer the boy king who used to tremble while stamping documents, he couldn't help but remonstrate:
"Your Majesty, although you have inherited the throne for several years, I implore you to be meticulous and attentive in handling state affairs, for when the king makes a mistake, the common people suffer."
Hearing this, Foltest rubbed his face hard with both hands. He tightly closed and opened his eyes, repeating this several times until he felt his mind clear slightly.
He nodded: "I understand, Chancellor. We shall..."
At that moment, a knock came from the door.
"Your Majesty, Lady Keira and Lady Triss have arrived."
(End of Chapter)
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