Triss was chanting loudly, her voice steady and powerful, while Yennefer echoed behind her like the harmonies of a choir.
Several sorceresses stood behind them, softly intoning spells in unison. With the surge of intense magical energy, a massive meteor was summoned from beyond the astral realm.
It tore through the clouds and plunged into sight.
With a deafening BOOM, it struck the outer edge of the City of Golden Towers—its aim precise.
Triss couldn't see Coën's distant gesture of gratitude. She focused solely on sensing the remaining magical signals still pulsing within the city.
Then, she pulled another wave of tens of millions of tonnes down from the stars above.
Three years ago, Triss hadn't yet realized her true potential. But with Lann's guidance and cultivation, she had finally grown into the powerful figure he remembered from his past.
Even Yennefer, at this moment, looked at Triss with undisguised admiration.
After a long moment, Triss let out a deep breath.
"There shouldn't be any remaining significant forces inside the city. And even if there are, Geralt and the others should be able to deal with them on their own."
"Following the collapse of the Aen Elle, the Nilfgaardians are beginning to fall apart as well—we've won, Lann."
Triss turned to look at Lann who stood beside her with his eyes closed.
After surveying the battlefield from high above, Lann had made no further moves. He simply monitored the consciousness signatures within his range.
At the same time, he tracked the behavior templates of his subordinates, ensuring the battlefield remained within his control.
He had built up his forces for this moment, and the enemy they faced was a precisely calibrated match. If even now he had to personally intervene to salvage the situation, then Lann would have to question the very purpose of his army.
Training was essential.
Even after unifying the continent… future wars might still be unavoidable.
After a long silence, Lann finally exhaled.
Triss was right. Victory was at hand.
Just one step left.
…
"This way, Your Majesty."
The court sorcerer and astrologer of Nilfgaard, Xarthisius, spoke in a hoarse and indistinct voice.
The elite squad of Black Sun Guards surrounded them—not to protect him, but the black-haired middle-aged man walking at his side.
Emhyr var Emreis, the man feared as "the white flame dancing on the graves of his foes", Emperor of Nilfgaard.
Emhyr moved with haste. He couldn't comprehend how the situation had devolved so rapidly.
"Your Majesty, look out! Northern griffins incoming!"
The frontmost soldier cried out a warning—an aerial assault unit from the North had spotted the retreating Nilfgaardians!
Xarthisius immediately began chanting, hoping to preemptively take down several griffins.
But in the very next instant, a radiant magical shield lit up in the sky—causing Xarthisius's pupils to contract.
"There are sorcerers among the enemy!"
These griffins didn't act like the other knight squadrons performing high-altitude bombings. Instead, they dove straight down—every rider leaping from their mount at roughly three stories above the ground, landing without the slightest need for cushioning, and drawing their swords to charge straight into the enemy ranks.
At the head was a knight bearing a lionhead crest, wielding a lionhead longsword. He cut through the battlefield like a storm, darting left and right, his blade dancing like the wind—no one could withstand even a single exchange with him.
"Stop them! Their target is His Majesty!"
Xarthisius shouted in desperation. "Protect the Emperor!"
The fearless Nilfgaardian Black Sun Guards unleashed all the strength they had in this lifetime, determined to protect the Emperor of the Empire.
But Emhyr's pupils suddenly contracted—because among the charging knights, he spotted a familiar figure.
Familiar… and yet distant.
It was a woman.
She had long silver hair and held a rapier.
To other Nilfgaardians, "Lann the Lion" was the most familiar figure—someone they were required to know.
But to Emhyr… he knew best the one called the "Lioness—Ciri."
"Wait! Don't hurt—"
He didn't finish the sentence—because in the next instant, brilliant emerald light erupted from the woman's body.
Like a meteor streaking across the land, Ciri traversed the battlefield in the blink of an eye, appearing right in front of Emhyr.
Every soldier in her path was cut down by her rapier as if their bodies were made of paper.
Blood sprayed in wide arcs behind her, forming a crimson path like a trail of blooming roses.
It all happened too fast.
Even as blood splattered onto the ground and the nearby guards began turning their weapons toward the lone woman who had broken into their midst, Emhyr's warning was still only half-spoken.
Then, the emerald light erupted again from Ciri's body.
Centered on her, the ground rippled outward in emerald waves—like water disturbed on the surface of a lake.
Ciri inhaled softly, preparing herself—
And then—
[Shff—Shff—Shff—Shff—Shff—!]
In an instant, countless afterimages burst forth from where she stood, each one darting toward a different enemy.
Each afterimage was Ciri herself, flashing at extreme speed.
Using the radius of the "emerald ripple" as her field, she performed high-speed thrusts—each time appearing behind a new enemy, striking without pause, then blinking back to her origin point, ready for the next lunge.
Her speed was so extreme that every motion left behind a solid-looking afterimage.
This was the power of Ciri's Elder Blood.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
[Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!]
In the time it would take an ordinary person to swing a single sword strike, every guard around Emhyr had already fallen.
Ciri had used only one move to clear out all the enemies near her target.
Due to the still-limited development of her Elder Blood, this technique couldn't truly be called a field-clearer—the emerald ripple's area of effect didn't yet cover the entire battlefield. Some enemies remained, but not one of them dared to move.
Because Ciri's blade was resting against Emhyr's throat.
"It's you, isn't it? Emhyr var Emreis, Emperor of Nilfgaard."
Her rapier pressed gently beneath the Emperor's chin. Ciri applied a bit of pressure, trying to force him to raise his head.
But the Emperor showed not the slightest sign of fear or submission. He refused to give her the posture of a victor. His skin took the blade head-on, and blood immediately welled up where the tip pierced him.
Even so, Emhyr didn't flinch. Not even his breathing changed.
Ciri frowned.
"That's right. It's me. I assume you're Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon."
Emhyr's voice was low and resonant—magnetic, like the Black Sun itself. Even under these circumstances, he held on to his pride.
And yet, everyone—be it the Cintran warriors still locked in battle, or the Nilfgaardians rushing back in panic to protect their emperor—froze in place.
Because the sight before them was both strange—and unnervingly symmetrical.
The Black Sun and the Lioness.
Both with heads held high.
Both with faces cold as ice.
Both with eyes brimming with pride—and wrath—as they stared each other down.
And it wasn't just a resemblance in temperament.
"I heard some things from Lann. About you. About me," Ciri said coldly. "Things that made me sick."
"Lann is rarely wrong. But this time, I hoped he was mistaken."
Emhyr held her gaze for a long moment. At last, he tilted his chin up—not by choice, but because the rapier at his throat was pressing in too hard.
If he didn't move, Ciri might truly pierce through without mercy.
"Your Lann was right," Emhyr said, his voice filled with regret.
A flicker of nostalgia passed through his eyes.
"Your eyes... they're just like hers. Just like Pavetta's."
Fury flared in Ciri's eyes.
She withdrew her rapier—then snapped it sideways with the force of a shield bash.
The Nilfgaardian Emperor's face twisted violently to the side—his neck nearly snapping from the blow.
He went flying, blood spewing from his mouth, along with perhaps a tooth or two.
"Bind him," Ciri ordered House.
"As for the others from the South—no prisoners."
...
A large portion of what transpired during the Second Northern War is recorded in The Complete History of the Continent, stored in the Military Warfare Archives at the Royal Academy of Cintra.
[On February 3, 1270, Cintra, which had been aggressively advancing throughout the war, suddenly pulled back its defensive lines. This strategy appeared highly unwise from the perspective of the North.
Although the Northern Coalition, under the leadership of His Majesty Lann, had been advancing with unstoppable momentum, the North still remained at a disadvantage compared to the South.
Historical records show that the population of the Nilfgaardian Empire, which had by then consolidated control over the South, ranged between 30 and 50 million, while the North held a total of 20 to 30 million.
Even after the immense depletion suffered in the First Northern War, Nilfgaard's military forces still outnumbered the North's by several times.
Despite the fact that His Majesty Lann had sacrificed much of his personal prestige to unify the North through an unprecedented wartime alliance, and after years of recuperation, the North's overall war potential still fell short of Nilfgaard's.
Therefore, a tactic centered on pulling back and competing in logistics should not, on the surface, have been a decision made by His Majesty Lann.
Yet his subsequent actions explained this move—and once again reshaped the continent's entire concept of warfare.]
[On February 5, 1270, under the leadership of His Majesty Eist, former King of Cintra and current King of Skellige, a fleet secretly transported His Majesty Lann's specially trained Lion Guard to the southern coast.
At the time, the Nilfgaardians were still enjoying a rare moment of peace and rest.]
[On February 7, 1270, the Lion Guard stormed the capital of Nilfgaard and annihilated the garrison stationed in the City of the Golden Towers. His Majesty Lann and Her Majesty Ciri led the campaign personally, capturing Emperor Emhyr var Emreis.]
[On February 9, 1270, word of the fall of the City of the Golden Towers and the Emperor's capture reached the front lines.
The coalition forces led by Cintran Marshal Vissegerd launched an all-out assault on Nilfgaard, breaching Nazair.
After Toussaint, Nazair became the first major Nilfgaardian province to fall.]
[What followed peeled back the grand illusion of the Nilfgaardian Empire.
From today's standpoint, Nilfgaard undoubtedly possessed a system far more advanced and civilized than the North at the time—so much so that many of its institutions were later preserved by His Majesty Lann.
For example, Nilfgaard's emphasis on law and justice: after the war, many locals in occupied territories were even able to sue Imperial soldiers.
As long as they presented appropriate legal grounds, such lawsuits—seen as ludicrous in the North back then—could succeed and were even encouraged.
However, due to its rapid expansion, the core region of the Nilfgaardian Empire accounted for only one-tenth of its total territory.
The rest had been annexed over the past 30 years, encompassing regions with widely diverse peoples, cultures, and customs.
Assimilation remained shallow, and the hearts of the people were unsettled.
Once expansion halted, the distribution of war spoils grew increasingly unequal, taxation became oppressive, the latent instability of the slave system began to fester, and tensions between ruler and ministers started to surface—all of which exploded in full force after the Emperor's capture.]
[On February 10, 1270, the province of Metinna declared independence—
and was immediately overrun by the Northern Coalition and forced to surrender the same day.
On February 11, 1270, the provinces of Vicovaro, Amell, Rowan, Etolia, Aetolia, Geso, and Mag Turga all declared independence.]
[That same day, deep within southern territory, His Majesty Lann led the Lion Guard northward and broke through the province of Aetolia, establishing the first stronghold behind enemy lines—forming a distant but coordinated front with the coalition army.
By this point, the North had nearly exhausted its military potential. It lacked the strength to completely swallow the South. Thus, after such a breakthrough victory, this Second Northern War should have theoretically come to an end.
And yet, with His Majesty Lann's intervention, another event shocked the entire Continent.]
[On February 14, 1270, a secret trial of Nilfgaardian Emperor Emhyr var Emreis was held in Cintra.
We now know that His Majesty Lann was highly proficient in magic—continental-scale teleportation was an effortless feat for him.
The "secret" nature of the trial meant its proceedings were never made public, and to this day, the verdict remains unknown.
All we know from the records is that after issuing a declaration that shook the entire Continent... Emhyr vanished.
In a sense, both Emhyr himself and the contents of that declaration provided the final piece Lann needed for the unification of the Continent—accelerating the founding of the Cintran Empire by at least thirty years.]
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