After absorbing the ability points, Wayne didn't linger in Kaedwen. Before dawn, he piloted the magic flying carpet back to Kaer Morhen.
The following weeks passed peacefully at the witcher stronghold. There were no unexpected events or disturbances.
Wayne took the opportunity to meet with Francesca. They shared a meal, and she presented him with a long-distance magical communicator.
As January came to a close and the mountain snow began to melt, the witchers of the Wolf School embarked on their annual journeys.
Wayne, true to his agreement, first visited the underground elven ruins where Toruviel resided. He engaged in meaningful conversations with the outwardly calm yet inwardly passionate elven leader, gaining valuable insights into the differences between female elves and human women.
Toruviel informed Wayne that the elven warriors under her command would be relocated to a forested mountain near Kaedwen's capital in the coming months. This was in response to Francesca's intelligence, suggesting that the non-humans residing in Ban Ard might face a massacre at the hands of King Henselt's soldiers. The elves planned a rescue mission, and these warriors would be tasked with retrieving the survivors.
Wayne had also received this news from Francesca, most likely passed on to the Brotherhood of Sorcerers by Henselt's sorceress advisor.
This was precisely why the Brotherhood of Sorcerers strategically placed sorceresses beside kings—to monitor their actions and prevent them from abusing their power.
Upon hearing the news, Wayne's first concern was the elves' new location. He had just opened a connection to Diablo in a valley near Ban Ard, and the spatial rift remained unsealed. If they were to stumble upon it, they might inadvertently endanger their own people.
Fortunately, Toruviel trusted Wayne implicitly and disclosed their relocation site without hesitation. It was not the same location as the rift, with a significant distance between them, so there should be no risk of harming their own.
With his companion, especially one as vulnerable as Toruviel, facing a dangerous mission, Wayne was not one to be stingy. He bestowed upon her various useful items he no longer needed. These included an invisibility potion, some low-level yet efficient magic scrolls, enchanted equipment acquired from the Azeroth Auction House, and even explosive arrows.
Most precious of all was a potent healing potion from Azeroth, which he had specifically saved for her. Given an elf's constitution, this high-level potion could save her life as long as she wasn't instantly killed or too severely wounded.
Toruviel accepted Wayne's generosity without comment, but her demeanor towards him grew more submissive and affectionate.
Wayne spent over a week in the underground ruins. Aside from his daily practice, he remained by the elf's side, sharing his insights on the current state of the elves, their potential future, and strategies to resist human oppression.
Granted, his knowledge was superficial, gleaned from the internet and books in his previous life. However, compared to the elves' millennia-old society, even his rudimentary understanding was a revelation. He imparted valuable lessons to Toruviel, altering her perception of him. Her admiration and affection grew, and she seemed utterly captivated.
Leaving the elven ruins, Wayne returned to Vizima City to reconnect with old friends and appease his sorceress lovers. This respite lasted a few days.
Unexpectedly, Francesca contacted him with urgent news shortly after his return. One afternoon, while reviewing magical knowledge at home, the communicator in his pocket vibrated, signaling an incoming call.
"Wayne, are you available tonight?" Francesca's voice, as enchanting as ever, inquired.
Wayne hummed in acknowledgment, then asked calmly, "Not busy at the moment. What news do you have for me?"
Sensing his receptiveness, Francesca's voice lightened, a hint of a smile audible in her tone. "Yes, a friend informed me that the soldiers stationed outside Vizima will be entering the city tonight on a secret mission."
"Can you guess their purpose?"
Francesca paused briefly, then continued,
"Wayne, this time we have enough time. We can discreetly evacuate the non-humans. While we may not save everyone, we can rescue the majority."
"Alternatively, we can preemptively eliminate the soldiers outside Vizima, preventing them from carrying out their mission. This would allow us to evacuate everyone."
"The choice is yours, and I respect your decision."
After considering the options, Wayne replied, "I choose the second option."
"Let's do this, Lady Francesca. Pick me up now. We'll eliminate the soldiers and perhaps even some of the rabble who incite them, so Henselt feels the loss."
"Then, we'll target his army, cutting off his claws and weakening his power."
"In any case, if this continues, Kaedwen's soldiers will inevitably become enemies of the elves. So, we'll start weakening them now."
Had this occurred before Wayne accepted the special commission, he might not have chosen such a violent and conspicuous approach. However, the number of elves he saved was now tied to his mission rewards.
Perhaps a display of overwhelming force would tip the scales in favor of the elves sooner.
Besides, Wayne had already devised a plan. Since his witcher identity could cause complications, he would adopt a new persona, someone who could act without restraint and take the fall for any unsavory actions. This new identity could also serve as a scapegoat for future endeavors.
Just over half an hour later, Wayne and Francesca arrived at the outskirts of Vizima.
Wayne was still clad in his draconid armor from the previous encounter, but he now wielded a four-foot-long, blood-red two-handed sword weighing dozens of pounds. Under the sorceress's magic, his armor had been transformed into a dark, matte black, and the sword's silver-white blade now pulsed with a crimson glow.
Wayne's overall appearance was even more menacing than before. He no longer resembled a noble knight but rather a death knight risen from the abyss. This time, he wore no helmet, his face exposed as if to fight openly.
Francesca, standing beside him, was puzzled. She knew Wayne was reluctant to reveal his witcher identity, yet here he was, doing just that.
"Wayne, there are around 150 soldiers in the camp outside Vizima. They are trained professionals, unlike the rabble from before. They won't be easily defeated."
"Are you sure you wish to proceed in this manner?"
Wayne turned to Francesca with a smile, his tone calm. "Do you lack faith in me, madam?"
The sorceress was taken aback. In the history of magic, few aside from legendary figures could single-handedly dispatch hundreds of soldiers. As for warriors, such feats were unheard of. This was one of the reasons she valued Wayne so highly after their previous collaboration.
The beautiful sorceress was not as innocent as she appeared. She was a centuries-old figure, wielding influence equal to the most powerful mages. She was the true ruler of the elves. Wayne never underestimated her.
In response to his confident question, Francesca smiled brightly, then pointed at his face. "Do you not wish to conceal your appearance? Shall I use magic to disguise you?"
Instead of answering, Wayne activated the golden scale gifted to him by Borch. It contained the unique ability of a golden dragon, allowing him to alter his appearance. This transformation wasn't an illusion but a true alteration, similar to a druid's shapeshifting. Even dispel magic couldn't break it. In this world, perhaps only Borch himself could undo the disguise.
Wayne had initially considered using this treasure to transform into a griffin or a bear, enhancing his strength with their unique physiology. However, he now realized it could be used to create a new, untraceable identity.
As magic surged through him, Wayne's appearance changed drastically. His short blond hair turned silver, his handsome face grew rugged, marked with scars and a rough beard. He looked like a seasoned warrior in his thirties. His elven ears vanished, and his amber eyes transformed into glowing red orbs.
His body expanded from 1.9 meters to 2.2 meters, his muscles straining against his armor. The once youthful elf was now a battle-hardened human general.
Wayne turned to face Francesca, who was momentarily stunned. His voice, too, had changed into a mature baritone. "Lady Francesca, should you encounter me in this form again, remember my name."
"Dante, a human mercenary who champions chivalry and justice."