Anyone who has ever dabbled in the field of magic cannot avoid the name 'Alzur'—he is universally recognized as a top-tier sorcerer, one of the highest-caliber mages in recorded history. His accomplishments during his lifetime were countless.
Among them, the most famous was leading a research group of sorcerers and pioneering the Trial of the Grasses for creating witchers.
The reason even someone like the Gray Owl—who had no ties to magic—knew Alzur's name was because his influence on the political history of the Northern Kingdoms was simply too far-reaching.
In one of the events that fundamentally reshaped the North's balance of power, the spell known as Alzur's Double Cross Summoning took center stage—
Legend has it that in the previous century, Prince Maribor and Duke Erland launched a protracted war over the Temerian throne, a brutal conflict later known as the Endless War, one that spanned several generations.
But the war finally came to an end under the mediation of Alzur. His method of mediation? Using the Double Cross Summoning spell to summon a fiend from another world—a creature that resembled a centipede, and whose size was perhaps the greatest in all of history.
The beast proceeded to decimate Duke Erland's army in one fell sweep.
"You mean you've learned that spell?" the Gray Owl asked in a voice filled with disbelief. This was a spell powerful enough to raze an entire city!
If Vilgefortz had truly mastered Alzur's Double Cross Summoning, then he would, without question, be the most powerful sorcerer alive—and the most strategically valuable.
"If I had, do you think I'd still be here playing along with you for so long?" Vilgefortz replied with a mocking grin.
The Gray Owl's disappointment was immediate—but so was a barely perceptible sigh of relief.
"Still," Vilgefortz continued coldly, "you should know that a new Conjunction of the Spheres is about to begin… You might not understand what that means, but for us sorcerers, it's an exceptional opportunity."
"I've had several bio-alchemical projects focused on monster research running for some time now—and they've made significant breakthroughs recently."
"If these powerful monsters were to align with the increasing number of beasts appearing lately…"
Vilgefortz turned his gaze in the direction of Brokilon: "Destroying a city might be difficult, but wiping out a town? That's more than achievable. The chaos that would ensue could create the perfect opening for you to lead your men in and capture Ciri."
The Gray Owl accepted Vilgefortz's reasoning.
The two discussed further details about the surprise assault on Brokilon, after which the imperial coroner rejoined his unit through the newly reactivated portal, continuing their preparations to march north.
Once alone in the study, the calm and aloof mask Vilgefortz had worn began to crack.
He stared at the battle report Emperor Emhyr had handed him, his body beginning to tremble uncontrollably.
"Magic teleportation without incantations… Wide-area spells that wiped out hundreds in an instant… Solo infiltration of an army's central command tent with tens of thousands of troops…"
"It hasn't even been two years. Not even two years!"
"The Elder Blood has granted Lannister such overwhelming power!"
"The Elder Blood truly can conquer the world!"
Vilgefortz's conviction in his interpretation of the prophecy deepened, and his desire for the Elder Blood reached a fever pitch.
"It's almost time… almost…"
He struggled to calm himself with deep breaths.
But then, a new doubt crept into his mind: "Why is it that the Elder Blood of the past never manifested this level of power in such a short time?"
He pulled out a massive tome, its pages filled with densely packed bloodline genealogies. He flipped through them one by one, recalling the abilities these individuals had displayed throughout history.
Aside from the legendary elven sage Lara Dorren, the most famous was the 'Prophet' Ithlinne. But even Ithlinne's power was on par with traditional magic sources.
After a long while, a sudden realization flashed through Vilgefortz's mind.
"Could it be… because Lannister is a witcher?"
"Was Alzur's true goal in creating witchers not to protect humanity by hunting monsters, as the world believes—but rather to find a shortcut to awaken the power of the Elder Blood?!"
…
Leaving aside the increasingly deranged conclusions drawn by Vilgefortz, who had clearly become obsessed with the Elder Blood—
On the other side, Lydia van Bredevoort, after parting ways with Vilgefortz, immediately opened a portal and returned to her magical laboratory in Aretuza.
The room was filled with canvases, some completed, others only partially finished.
The doors and windows were wide open, letting in a cool sea breeze and rays of sunlight.
Lydia first looked toward the large desk in the center of the room. A few magical notebooks and textbooks lay open across its surface. Then her gaze shifted, scanning the room—but there was no one in sight.
A magical illusion concealed the damage to Lydia's face from a failed experiment, but she knew all too well that beneath that illusion, her expression had furrowed into a frown.
[Dong—dong—]
At that moment, a heavy bell tone drifted in through the window.
As a former student and short-term instructor at the Aretuza School of Magic, Lydia was deeply familiar with that sound.
It was the bell signaling the start of the academy's daily lessons.
And after spending time observing the rhythms of the place, she had also come to know: whenever the students of Aretuza were in class, a certain missing person tended to reappear.
So, she pulled over a stool, selected one of the unfinished paintings, and began mixing colors.
When Ace pushed the door open, what he saw was Lady Lydia in a plain, long dress, painting.
She sat by the window, allowing the sunlight to fall directly upon her. The light caught the tiny pearls along her neckline and the amethyst pendant on her chest, making them glimmer with a crystalline sheen and casting a soft, dreamlike glow around the painter.
A sash of indigo hugged her waist, running from just beneath her ribs down to her hips. She wasn't voluptuous—in fact, she had a slender frame, uncommon among female sorcerers, with few curves.
But it was precisely that understated silhouette, paired with her cold and elegant aura, that made her so captivating.
She was painting—but she herself looked like a painting.
Truly worthy of being Lady Lydia, Ace thought with genuine admiration. The girls at the academy weren't even in the same league.
Hearing the sound of the door opening, Lydia didn't turn her head, but the air stirred faintly with chaotic magical energy.
A voice then sounded directly in Ace's mind.
"Why aren't you practicing magic?"
Ace paused at the question, then gave a sheepish smile. "I ran into some trouble… and you weren't around, my lady."
"I knew you've been busy lately, so I tried asking some of the other apprentices, hoping they might give me some inspiration…"
Lydia still didn't turn around. "What problem?"
Her tone suggested she was ready to fulfill her duty as a teacher.
"It's about portals," Ace said, eyes lighting up.
Lydia froze for a brief moment, her paintbrush hovering mid-air. "That's not a spell you should be attempting at your current level. Even many academy graduates can't use it freely."
"You should be focusing on shaping magic. That's where your strengths lie."
Ace scratched his head. "Understood, Lady Lydia."
Lydia's voice echoed once more through magic. "This isn't the first time we've had this conversation."
"Yes, Lady Lydia."
The sorceress recalled the conversation she'd had in Vilgefortz's secret laboratory.
After a moment of thought, she finally turned around and fixed Ace with her nearly emotionless gaze.
"You were sent here with great expectations from your count. You are the first sorcerer's apprentice Cintra has raised on its own in many years. You shouldn't be wasting your time like this—and you certainly shouldn't be aiming too high too soon."
Lydia rarely—perhaps never—spoke so many sentences in a single breath.
"Yes, Lady Lydia," Ace lowered his head obediently, seemingly ashamed by her reprimand.
What he truly thought, however, was something no one could know.
"But," Ace suddenly brightened, eyes lighting up with excitement, "Lady Triss told me recently that His Grace has been made a duke!"
Lydia gave no response. She simply stared at Ace in silence.
Then, a sharp, needling sensation spread across Ace's scalp. He still couldn't cast spells freely, but he was already familiar with the feeling of chaotic energy.
He knew—she was using telepathy again.
So, his thoughts began to scatter—
[Lady Lydia seems extremely busy lately. I wonder what's troubling her. So many beautiful paintings, yet none of them finished… what a shame…]
[If I learned how to use portals, wouldn't I be able to stay by Lady Lydia's side more often? At the very least, when she's heading out, I could open the portal for her and save her a little effort…]
[Come to think of it, Lady Triss told me His Grace has acquired new powers. Apparently, he can now heal someone from the inside out in a miraculous way—he even brought a flayed witcher back to life…]
[Lately I've heard some awful rumors about Lady Lydia… despicable gossip. But if it's true, maybe His Grace's power could help her?]
[I really need to master portal magic soon. Maybe sneak back to Cintra and ask…]
The needling sensation faded just as quickly as it had come.
Lydia, Vilgefortz's assistant and private secretary, continued to gaze silently at Ace—the attendant of the Lion of Cintra, descendant of Cintran knights.
And yet, Vilgefortz's plan was to kill both the young lion and the old one… to annihilate Cintra entirely…
Behind the magical illusion that covered her face, no expression could be seen.
After a long moment, Lydia finally spoke softly through magic: "Portals are high-level and dangerous spells. Do not practice them in secret without my supervision."
"What questions do you have?"
Ace lit up with joy.
A new round of private magical tutoring had begun.
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