Hector Rience?
Witt frowned at the name, thinking, Could Hector be the Rience who hunted Ciri on Vilgefortz's orders?
Before Witt could think it through, Old Graz's groans pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Wi... Witt..."
Although Old Graz had used magic to purge the toxins from his body, the dagger was still lodged in his abdomen. The old mage endured the intense pain and opened his mouth, anxious to tell Witt a few things.
"Mr. Graz, I'm here." After answering, Witt ran over and took Geralt's place supporting the old mage.
"With Graz's injury, moving him carelessly could make the dagger in his abdomen slice his intestines open. Stay here with him. I'll find a doctor." After giving those instructions, Geralt ran toward the crowd.
After Rience had been teleported away, the magical flames controlled by whoever stood behind him had quickly been extinguished as well. Order was gradually returning to Ban Ard.
"How did things turn out like this? Where are the other mages? Where's Lady Sabrina?" Witt asked.
Old Graz was still pale. He raised a hand slightly to interrupt Witt's questions and said, "Don't blame the other mages. This wasn't negligence on their part. Somehow, Hector obtained dimeritium magic circles capable of temporarily trapping the other mages. If he hadn't apparently overlooked Geralt's presence, I'm afraid I'd already have died at his hands."
Hearing this, Witt thought of the magic circle outside the succubus's cave. It was probably the same kind as those that had trapped the mages. Perhaps Hector had failed to guard against Geralt precisely because he had used one on the succubus without permission.
"What was his objective? To cause chaos and then murder his own teacher? Or was it because of this Ring of Favor?" Witt asked.
"I don't know what his objective was, but don't take all the blame upon yourself. You weren't the one who committed all these sins, Witt."
Old Graz offered Witt those words of comfort and was about to speak again when a jumble of footsteps sounded in the distance. The old mage closed his mouth.
Witt looked warily toward the footsteps. When he saw that it was Geralt, who had gone to find a doctor, and a furious Sabrina, he relaxed.
"Old Graz! Just what has your student done! Not only did he wreck all of Ban Ard, he also stole Idarran's Forbidden Blood Transfusion Technique, which the Brotherhood of Sorcerers had sealed away in the academy, along with the blood transfusion apparatus made by Idarran himself!"
Idarran of Ulivo had been the mage Alzur's apprentice and was just as infamous. An expert in hybridization, mutation, and genetics, he had used all manner of inhumane human experiments to create countless inhuman monsters, causing hundreds upon thousands of tragedies. The most famous of his creations was the Idr Giant Centipede, an enormous centipede with a human face and human genes.
"What?! His objective was actually Idarran's Forbidden Blood Transfusion Technique? What does he want with that thing?" Old Graz exclaimed.
Witt was startled at this. If Hector Rience's appearance could previously have been explained away, however tenuously, as someone sharing the same name, then the appearance of Idarran's Forbidden Blood Transfusion Technique undoubtedly confirmed Witt's suspicions.
The one behind him was undoubtedly that truly dangerous man who would stir up turmoil throughout the world and toy with most of its people over the next few years.
Vilgefortz of Roggeveen.
So it really is him? Witt thought, unable to help feeling somewhat nervous.
Vilgefortz was no ordinary figure. His close-combat prowess was terrifying, and he had all but crushed Geralt, reputed to be the North's greatest swordsman, in two head-on battles.
His mastery of magic was not to be underestimated either. It was said that, like Geralt, he might also have been a sorcerer's child, a born Source. In the original story, his strength and achievements at the Battle of Sodden Hill had even earned him a place in the Chapter of the Gift and the Art, the innermost organization of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. His strength was second only to that of supreme mages such as Hen Gedymdeith.
"Don't tell me you knew nothing about this, Old Graz!" Blinded by anger, Sabrina clearly had not realized that Old Graz had also been one of Rience's targets.
"Sabrina! Can't you see Graz has been stabbed in the stomach? Now isn't the time to vent your feelings!" Geralt's tone was stern. He, too, felt deeply guilty about how things had turned out.
Geralt had originally thought Rience was merely a young mage whose excessive jealousy had driven him to do something foolish, like so many people he had met before.
He had never expected the man to harbor such sinister intentions-not merely to steal the spells sealed away in the academy, but also to take the life of the teacher who treated him as his own child in the process.
Sabrina's anger gradually cooled. She had never been someone willing to bow her noble head, even when she realized she was wrong.
Without a word, the sorceress cast her healing spells. With the two witchers' help, she pulled out the dagger and repaired the old mage's wound with a restoration spell. But the lost blood and the toxins remaining in his body were not so easily dealt with. He would need a long period of quiet recuperation to recover.
"Thank you, Sabrina." Old Graz smiled, taking no offense at her earlier attitude toward him, and offered a brief explanation on his own behalf. "Though this old man's mastery of magic isn't shallow, I doubt I could make that sort of special magical item that can only be created in conjunction with alchemy. I'm better at research into nature and living things."
Sabrina nodded. Having known Old Graz for years, she knew his abilities and research preferences, and believed his words. Her tone softened slightly as she said:
"I'll be leaving now. I must report everything that happened here to King Henselt immediately, and the Brotherhood of Sorcerers needs to know what happened here too. There aren't many mages capable of making that thing. I'll drag him out, whoever he is! Leave all the cleanup to Dorregaray. Who knows where that old bastard has hidden himself away to do his research. He's still nowhere to be seen."
With that, Sabrina recited an incantation. A portal appeared before her, and the sorceress stepped through it and vanished.
"Teleportation really is convenient," Geralt remarked, before his expression turned disgusted. "But I still hate magic."
Old Graz, whose condition was gradually improving, rolled his eyes at Geralt. "Do you think teleportation has no limitations? Without a megascope or a magical item that provides a location, the price of using teleportation recklessly is either appearing ten thousand meters up in the air or being teleported underground and suffocating to death."
"You should save your breath, Graz," Geralt retorted, refusing to be outdone.
Seeing Witt standing silently with his brows tightly furrowed, Old Graz found an excuse to send Geralt away.
Once Geralt was far away, profound remorse appeared in Old Graz's eyes. Filled with guilt, he told Witt, "I'm sorry, Witt. I've betrayed your trust. Hector stole your blood sample. It's all my fault."
The old mage lowered his head, filled with dejection. He had never imagined that two scoundrels would emerge from among his students, each more of a beast than the last.
Witt comforted him. "This isn't your fault, Mr. Graz. You're a truly, truly good teacher. Just as you said, don't blame yourself for the sins others commit. I don't think this was simply a problem with your teaching, either. After all, Geralt told me you often travel through the wilderness doing research."
"You don't need to comfort me. This old man knows where he went wrong." Old Graz shook his head and smiled.