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The Divine Hunter

Chapter 537 - 537: Freya’s Enlightenment
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Chapter 537: Freya’s Enlightenment

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

The beautiful aurora borealis swirled and swam and leapt around Roy and the goddess. The witcher stared at the golden-eyed woman, and he fell into silence. He knew he would get rewarded for helping the goddess, given that he was not her believer. That was the way of the witcher.

“Esteemed lady, before I ask, I would like to confirm that this is a no-holds-barred privilege?” asked the witcher carefully.

“I can only answer questions pertaining to the places where temples and altars dedicated to me exist. Or places neighboring the sea, such as Skellige, Cintra, and Kovir,” said Freya.

Ah, so she’s not omniscient. “Where is Arnaghad, the grandmaster of the Bear School?”

Freya said, “Ask another question.”

Roy sighed. “You know what I’ve been up to since I came to this island. Can you tell me where Ortolan is? I’d like to know where he went after he left Hindarsfjall.”

Freya nodded, and Roy was presented with a scene. It was a dark chamber, and a hexagram was drawn on the ground, with six corpses hidden underneath. Roy also saw a xenovox. It was the same chamber Roy had seen when he was looking for Ortolan.

Except this time, Roy saw Ortolan himself. He was gaunt, unkempt, and wore nothing but tattered clothes. His eyes were bulging and bloodshot, his cheekbones jutting like the horns of a demon. Ortolan’s breathing was ragged, and then he tugged on his spindly right hand.

A gale howled in the chamber, and a dark portal the shape of a whirlpool appeared in the air. Through Freya’s help, Roy saw what was behind the portal: a narrow alleyway.

The alleyway’s ground was covered in squalid liquid, and mountains of garbage were piled at every corner, while the walls were covered in moss. Standing far away in the distance was a resplendent palace, and beside it was a sorcerer’s tower with a red roof.

There were at least a few dozen cities with these kinds of buildings scattered all over the world. Judging from its style and beauty, Roy thought it was located in a city in the north. Perhaps it was in the capital of a kingdom too.

“Maribor,” the goddess said, her voice ringing in Roy’s heart.

Roy clenched his fists in excitement. “That means the base for Idarran, the grandmasters, and Alzur might be in Maribor. Perhaps it’s in the city destroyed by that overgrown centipede. And that tower belongs to Triss Merigold.”

Alright, now that we have an address, things got a lot easier. Time to start preparing for the battle. I have to at least pass the third trial and arm all my comrades with the best gear we can muster.

Then I’ll go to Maribor, find out what the grandmasters are up to, and take revenge for what the grandmasters did to me. Especially Arnaghad. This time, Roy would not hesitate or show them any mercy.

“Thank you for your guidance.” Roy held his left hand to his chest and bowed at the goddess, heaving a sigh. Now that he had news of the grandmasters’ whereabouts, he should focus on getting stronger next.

He had the next question in mind. “I already know what I wish to ask next. You first called me Child of the Elder Blood. Given that a goddess like you has heard of the Elder Blood, may I know how I should strengthen this bloodline?”

The potion given to him by the Master of Mirrors had lost its effect, so he needed to find another way to power up.

For some reason, the goddess felt happy, like that was the exact question she wished for the witcher to ask. “The Elder Blood, Hen Ichaer, is the blood of the sacred, the blood of the cursed, the blood of the slayer, the blood of the savior, the blood of birth, and the blood of death.”

The goddess spoke each term in a complex and ancient language. The witcher felt his heart thumping furiously, and his vessels were starting to contort as blood flowed through them at inhuman speeds, gleaming golden.

“This is not the power you’re supposed to wield. You are not the descendent of Lara Dorren. You’re not even an Aen Elle by birth, and Elder Blood is a recessive gene in males. Even so, you, against all common sense, have control over that power.” The goddess muttered to herself, “What kind of secrets do you hold? How did you take the Elder Blood and polish it to this degree?”

Lara Dorren was the daughter of the ruler of the world of Aen Elle—Auberon Muircetach. She had the power to cross space and time. Lara fell in love with a human sorcerer of this world and came as one, giving birth to Ciri’s ancestor.

Through that ancestor, the Elder Blood lived on for generations.

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The witcher did not answer the goddess’ question.

“You are the spare. Your Elder Blood is not something born of nature. It is nigh impossible for you to strengthen it beyond this point. Even if you train it every single day, it would take a hundred years or two to reach the level of Lara Dorren.”

Roy’s heart skipped a beat. But I thought my Elder Blood was partially awakened. And Ciri’s in the same situation too. She didn’t even spend ten years to control this power and advance to the next stage. I possess power unknown to most people, so why’s it so hard for me?

“This is perhaps the arrangement of Destiny,” Freya said, staring at the shimmering sky, her eyes glinting. “Not too long ago, I sensed a coming storm. Three bearers of the Elder Blood—Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the unborn child of Calanthe, the Queen of Cintra, and you—have appeared on Skellige Isles, the territory well within my domain.”

Ah, so Ciri’s already here to see Calanthe.

“Those two shall be the key to your Elder Blood’s evolution.”

What Freya said next made Roy’s blood go cold.

“All you have to do is steal their Elder Blood. The more it’s awakened, the more control you’ll have over space and time.”

What? I have to take their bloodline to strengthen mine? That reminded Roy of Vilgefortz’s actions. He too had a plan to steal Ciri’s blood, and it was inhumane. If Roy had to harm Ciri and his own Unexpected Child to strengthen his own blood, he would be as reprehensible as Vilgefortz himself.

No! Roy shook his head and dashed that horrifying idea.

“You seem to share a deep bond with them, witcher. Worry not. You do not have to kill them or take every single drop of their blood.” Roy’s look of horror didn’t escape Freya. She said, “As long as they trust you completely and submit to you and your Elder Blood, you can easily take one-third of their blood without harming their lives, and that’s the best way to prevent any tragedy from happening to them.”

Freya said cryptically, “Why do you think the Elder Blood is also called the blood of the cursed? Because its bearers will never find peace even in death. The stronger their blood, the more gruesome their deaths will be.”

Roy was reminded of Lara Dorren and Pavetta. The former was chased down by her own clan members and died of exhaustion after she gave birth to her daughter in the wilds. The latter was set up by her husband Duny, aka Emhyr var Emreis, and Vilgefortz. She then died in Sedna Abyss.

According to the original timeline, Ciri would also live the life of a tramp and suffer all the way, meeting her end in loneliness. So the blood hasn’t cursed me yet?

“The stronger your Elder Blood is, the more this world is going to reject you,” said Freya, her voice booming through the space, and there was not an ounce of emotion in it. “The blood of death will not just curse its bearer; it will also bring destruction to the world. We thought we had ten years left, but we have less than a decade before doom comes for us all. The wolf shall engulf the sun, and the moon shall fall into an eclipse. The ouroboros shall once again bite its own tail and complete the circle. Once the loop of time is complete, the world shall fall into the age of the White Frost. The Wolf’s Blizzard will come for us all, and this world shall enter a deep winter.”

Oh, the universal threat—White Frost, huh? The ender of worlds.

If the timeline went as it should, the disaster would only strike more than a decade later, but now Freya proclaimed that it would come in less than ten years. Given the clues Freya had told him, Roy had an epiphany, and it was a terrifying one.

The Elder Blood attracts the White Frost? Wait. The White Frost was supposed to land more than ten years later because Ciri was the only bearer of the Elder Blood, but now that I and Calanthe’s child exist, things just changed for the worse.

***

“The bearer of the Elder Blood is a savior. They have a duty to take on their destiny,” Freya said, snapping Roy out of it. “That goes for you, understand? If you are willing to sacrifice, then you can end this disaster. Are you prepared, Roy?” Freya asked, her voice filled with anticipation, and she came closer.

“What are you talking about? Why should I prepare?”

“Use those eyes of yours and observe.”

Everything around Roy started shaking. He felt something grabbing him, taking him off the ground. Higher and higher he went, passing through the aurora and the stratosphere. Eventually, he came to the deep, dark vacuum of space, staring down at the minuscule planet underneath him.

The witcher world.

Roy held his breath, his heartbeat stopping for a moment. Dark particles filled the vacuum of space, swarming through the vacuum like a horde of locusts threatening the plains, and they blocked out the sunlight.

A deep freeze descended upon the world, and an icy blue light was reflected on the blue planet underneath. Like a plague, the ice quickly spread, freezing the seas, the lush greenery, the yellow mountains, and the dark-brown soil.

The frost and blizzard entombed everything in blocks of ice, freezing all life. It was but a moment, but the planet underneath turned from something teeming with life to a big, icy sphere of death.

The endless particles swam across the universe once more, seeking the next planet.

***

Something in the void beside him moved. It was a voluptuous woman in a frilly dress. She was frozen and curled up, and Roy could recognize that face anywhere.

“The world shall face its end sooner than expected. Are you prepared for it?” the frozen Coral asked. “Are you ready to sacrifice?”

Sacrifice what? Roy’s face stiffened up, and he pursed his lips in hesitation. A moment later, everything around him fell, and so did he.

Seconds later, the scene he saw disappeared, and Roy came back to that mysterious domain, but his mind was still captivated by the terrible frost that took over the world. He was a little angry. I was just trying to ask questions, goddess, and you want me to sacrifice myself to save this world? I am no messiah.

Roy shook his head. He knew that there was a way to deal with the White Frost. Even if its coming was brought forward, he still had about eight years to come up with a plan. I can’t rush this.

Freya shook her head, sighing. “Are you not yet prepared? We do not have much time left.”

***

A long while later, Roy finally managed to process the new information he got about the Elder Blood and the coming calamity.

“That is all for the second question’s answer.” Freya shook her head in disappointment. “Continue.”

“My third question might be a bit forward.” Roy took a deep breath to calm his raging heart down. “Why didn’t you punish Morkvarg and his goons yourself? You could’ve struck them down with lightning or crushed their ships with storms before they even stepped foot on Hindarsfjall.”

He couldn’t understand why a legendary god couldn’t deal with mere pirates, nor could he understand why she would watch as her most loyal priestess was slaughtered. He couldn’t believe she would ask a mortal like him to help her out.

***

Freya said solemnly, “That is not an easy question to answer. It’s far more than what I have promised you. If you wish to gain this knowledge, you must give something more in return.”

“What would you like?” Roy sighed silently. Knew it.

“Be my believer. Patrol all my temples in Skellige and punish those who would disrespect or blaspheme me. Do that until the day the White Frost arrives.”

Roy shook his head. “Sorry, Lady Freya, but I can’t do that. I do not plan to stay for long. My home is in Novigrad.”

He didn’t want to lock himself up in one place and work as a goddess’ thug. “I have another suggestion in exchange. Would you like to hear it?”

“Speak,” said Freya calmly.

Roy closed his eyes to feel where Leviathan was. The ice giant was hiding in a cave between the reefs of the coast. It was a space covered in mud and seawater, and the creature was sound asleep. “Back on Undvik, I triumphed against an ice giant through sheer luck, and it has sworn fealty to me. If you would like, I can have it patrol your temples on Skellige and serve your priestesses. Of course, there are a lot of years left until the calamity strikes, so I can only lend it to you for a year. It shall devote itself to the protection of your clergywomen and deal with all blasphemers. However, if I am to run into something I need help with, I’ll summon it to my side.

“The ice giant is a lot bigger, stronger, and more destructive than I am. Even its appearance inspires more fear and respect. Its existence should be enough to scare the blasphemers and spread your light to the corners of the world, attracting more believers for you.” Roy was imagining a scene in his head. A scene where Leviathan would be snoozing in the garden while the priestesses would bathe the big guy and lather perfumed powder on him.

Oh gods, the scene is just…

***

“Two years. That’s the lowest offer I can give you. Have your ice giant serve my temple for two years. And without my permission, you are not to tell anyone about the answer I will give. Swear on your soul, and I shall answer your final question.”

“Deal.” Roy felt himself tremble, and something mysterious welled within him.

Freya smiled at him, and she took on a gentler attitude.

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Leviathan was gnashing its teeth in its sleep, unknowingly becoming a merchandise for its master to trade favors with.

***

“There is a reason I didn’t smite Morkvarg.” Freya turned around, and Roy felt a sense of resignation coming off her. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s as simple as I said, witcher. You may laugh if you want. I used to be the religion for all kingdoms neighboring the sea. I used to be the ruler of Skellige and the goddess who would stir up storms at a whim, but I have grown old and weak. It is taking me my all to even keep my powers of clairvoyance and second sight. All that started from the Conjunction of the Spheres fifteen hundred years ago.”

Freya waved her left hand, and an ancient scroll unfurled through the aurora strip on her left. Within the goddess’ palm, numerous planets spun and coiled around the darkness of space, countless threads connecting them, and one of those planets was the world of the witcher.

Swarms of creatures swam from one planet to another through these threads that connected the spheres, and thus, the life forms from other worlds descended upon the witcher’s world.

Roy spun and scanned the rapidly changing scenery around him. Never-seen-before species descended upon his world through the threads and quickly positioned themselves in the ecosystem of the witcher world, multiplying in numbers.

Roy saw ghouls and higher vampires adapting to his world, and then the scene changed once more. The entanglement of the planets had stopped, and most worlds had returned to the void, where they once were. Only one remained in place, spinning slowly.

Thanks to its momentum, the endless ribbon of energy coated every inch of the beautiful planet left in the chaos. The planet where the witchers resided. It was now an auroral zone that shone beautifully.

Freya touched that layer of light. “The Conjunction might have disappeared, but the energy strip that was born from it was left behind, coating our world and cutting off my connection to the material realm.”

“Your kingdom stands outside of this world? Where do you live?” Roy was reminded of Nirn, the planet Skyrim was on.

The eight Divines who created the world floated in the space beyond Nirn, forming eight of the brightest stars that shone in the skies. To a degree, the stars were the kingdom of the Divines.

And Freya’s kingdom was also beyond the planet. Roy felt something magical well within him. Despite being different worlds, the higher beings shared some similarities.

“I’m not the only one locked outside. Melitele is as well.” Freya plucked at the auroral zone, but her movements were sluggish and slow. “The zone has gained more strength and chaos with time. The faith and support given to us by the believers are mostly gobbled up by this zone, but that’s not the only reason. For the past one thousand years or so, humanity has been exploring this world at a blistering rate, creating new technology and knowledge as they go. New creations and facts pop up fast. Poems, theater, food, and entertainment have taken up most of their time.”

She continued, “No longer are they focusing on work, rest, and reproduction. Most humans’ faith isn’t as pure as it used to be. It flickers out before it can even pass through the zone. Thanks to that, even though we have more believers now, the support we receive has dwindled. Since a few hundred years ago, I’ve been receiving less energy than I expend. I only make enough to maintain my kingdom and the souls of my believers who live in it. That, and granting my most devout priests some level of magic and second sight. I can never interfere with any of this world’s affairs. That’s why Melitele and I have never shown ourselves to the world.”

There was resignation in Freya’s voice. “We wish we could, but we can’t.”

She can only grant her priestess a degree of magic and second sight and maintain the souls residing in her kingdom. Roy was reminded of what he saw in Vizima. Specifically, where Vivienne turned the souls of the dead into water spirits living in the Lake of Vizima. Freya managed to lead the souls of her believers out of the planet and induct them into her kingdom. That was indisputably more powerful.

And he had another question. “But other gods and religions have shown up since the Conjunction, haven’t they? Kreve, Lebioda, Eternal Fire, Lionheaded Spider, Svalblod, and Vivienne, for example.”

Freya shook her head. “They are not real gods. Powerful aberrations, yes, but not real gods. They’re lucky their domains and cores are located within the world. Thanks to that, the zone does not affect them, but their potential is limited. They are confined to this planet forever, unable to do anything bigger.”

The witcher took a deep breath. “Is there no way to deal with the zone?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Perhaps the next Conjunction will create an impact powerful enough to destroy the zone, or perhaps it’ll strengthen it and cut off my connection permanently. It doesn’t matter after the White Frost descends, though. Once the people who revere and worship me are gone, I will have nothing to exist on.”

***

A pregnant pause fell upon the space.

“And that makes the final question. Remember your promise, witcher. I have to leave, and tell the girls that the priestesses who died have entered my kingdom. They have nothing to worry about.”

***

“Hey, can I come back if I have more questions, Lady Freya?”

“You’re not my believer, so that will call for an equivalent exchange. Should you have questions, come to my temple or altar and chant my name. Pray to me, and I shall decide if I will answer your question.”

Freya’s voice was getting more distant, and the aurora disappeared like smoke.

Roy felt everything losing their footing, and he shook his head. The light from the candles before him was suddenly looking bright. He had returned to the great hall and was met with Sigrdrifa.