White Mist Peak was not particularly tall among the peaks of the Blue Mountains, yet the three of them only barely caught sight of its summit as dawn approached.
The trees and vegetation gradually thinned, and the ground grew bare. Winter had not long passed, and a little snow still lingered on the summit. The view here was expansive, offering a panorama of the entire forest.
The sky brightened faintly. Far along the eastern horizon, the first light of dawn quietly arrived. Night had yet to fade, and the stars and rising sun shone together.
The three walked along a cliffside path. Geralt looked east, his vision filled with countless mountains. Beyond them lay the endless desert called Korath, territory of the nomadic kingdom of Haakland.
Many years ago, Geralt had had a friend from the Kingdom of Zerrikania, south of the Kingdom of Haakland. His name was Villentretenmerth, a golden dragon who could take human form and possessed considerable ancient wisdom.
In that golden dragon, he had seen many noble qualities that humans had long since forgotten.
"We're here. Just a little farther ahead." Miley raised a hand to indicate the way.
In truth, she need not have bothered. From the footprints on the ground and the faint, foul smell, the two witchers had already deduced that they were nearing the griffin's nest.
A shallow cave appeared in the cliff some distance ahead of them.
The witchers could clearly see inside the cave. A griffin lay with its eyes closed in sleep, in the middle of a nest built from branches and old bones, as though guarding something.
"Miley, you can stop here. Leave the rest to us," Witt said.
Miley took the elven wooden bow from her back and said indignantly, "I won't let you face the danger alone. I'm no burden!"
Seeing the determination in her eyes, Witt knew it would be difficult to dissuade her, so he said, "In that case, stay back and support us in case anything unexpected happens."
With that, Witt and Geralt drew the silver swords from their backs and cautiously advanced, not forgetting to cast a Quen Sign over themselves along the way.
In fact, the absence of the second griffin had already allowed the two witchers to deduce a few things.
There was probably still a griffin egg in their nest, which was why the female had stayed behind to prevent another egg from being stolen.
What they faced might be a ravenously hungry female griffin that had remained on guard all night, waiting for the male to bring back food.
Moreover, the fight would take place inside a cave. The witchers could be said to hold every advantage in battle.
Witt held his sword in his right hand and formed the gesture for the Aard Sign with his left, adopting the standard combat stance of a School of the Wolf witcher to respond to whatever might happen.
Geralt stood ahead and to Witt's left. His expression was comparatively relaxed. He held his sword in both hands, ready to kill the griffin in a single stroke the instant Witt knocked it off balance with the Aard Sign.
Miley followed some distance behind them, her bowstring drawn taut, ready to provide support at any moment.
As the three drew closer, Geralt's expression grew increasingly relaxed. By the time he reached the griffin's nest, he even returned his sword to the scabbard on his back.
Witt sheathed his sword as well.
Miley ran over from a distance, intensely curious. She was about to ask why when she discovered that the griffin before them was already at death's door, with little time left to live.
"What... happened to it?" Miley asked.
Witt took the dagger from his waist and used it to push the griffin's head aside, revealing the yellow-green liquid that had flowed from its mouth beneath it.
The female griffin no longer had the strength even to stir. Only its final breath kept it alive.
"Someone poisoned it." Witt could only judge from the extraordinarily foul smell that it was a potent poison.
The more knowledgeable Geralt, however, reached a conclusion after examining it. "It's venom from a venomous arachas. A single drop of this toxin can kill dozens of sheep."
Witt examined the inside of the nest and discovered the fresh skeleton of a sheep. The bones were an unnatural black; the poison had presumably been placed inside the sheep.
"It looks like a deliberately laid trap. Lowell probably did it not long ago, while the male griffin was out hunting. No wonder he managed to get a griffin egg." As Witt spoke, he picked out from among the bones a medicinal root of the kind that had appeared in Lowell's herb field.
"So this was the real reason the male griffin was so furious?" Geralt mused. "No wonder you couldn't find anything out in the village, and even the family Lowell mentioned didn't know there was a griffin egg in their backyard. That wasn't the reason at all."
"Is magic really that important?" Witt shook his head and positioned his dagger over the female griffin's heart, ready to put it out of its misery.
"Kraa..."
With only a breath left, the griffin struggled to open its beak and cried out in the final moment of its life.
"I'll release you now," Witt said solemnly.
"Wait." Miley stopped him from behind.
The elf, who carried dryad blood, had an extraordinary sensitivity to nature. She seemed to have heard something in the female griffin's despairing call.
She walked into the bone-filled nest and heaved the griffin's heavy wing aside.
Now even Geralt and Witt understood what the female griffin meant.
Beneath the griffin's wing lay an egg that seemed to have been laid only recently. Its shell was still somewhat translucent.
An exceedingly weak yet unmistakable trace of life emanated from the egg. It was still alive.
"This..." Geralt, who hunted monsters for a living, was at a loss. He did not know what to do with this monster that was still an egg.
Fortunately, Miley made a decision. "Can I keep it?"
Geralt did not know how to answer. He said vaguely, "You're the client. If that's what you've decided..."
But Witt firmly objected. "Miley, I suggest you don't hold out any hopes for these monsters. They aren't products of this natural world. They're monsters that crossed over during the Conjunction of the Spheres."
In Kaer Morhen's library, Witt had read countless witcher stories similar to that of the farmer and the snake.
Sparing this griffin egg was entirely different from Geralt helping the golden dragon during the golden dragon incident.
This was not about making excuses that dragons were nobler than hybrids such as griffins. Rather, the struggle between these creatures and sapient beings was a battle over living space.
Humans occupied the plains where griffins had once hunted, cultivated the land, and drove them into barren mountains. In turn, they hunted livestock or humans themselves.
They seemed to live in harmony with nonhuman races such as elves and dryads, but in truth, these monsters merely feared the elves' strength. They lacked intelligence, but their primitive survival instincts taught them to prey on the weak and fear the strong.
"Monsters are monsters. Save your compassion for the elves. Our war with monsters is no different from the war between humans and elves."
With that, as the other two looked on in astonishment, Witt punctured the griffin egg with a single thrust. Green fluid spilled out. The poison had already entered the egg through the female griffin.
Then Witt drove the dagger into the griffin's heart, ending its life.