Dravograd itself became a microcosm of the Continent's escalating turmoil. Rumors of Nilfgaard's relentless advance southward no longer remained mere whispers; they coalesced into undeniable truths. Refugees, gaunt and desperate, trickled into the city, carrying tales of scorched earth and occupied towns. The air, once merely anxious, now crackled with a palpable tension. Aizen observed it all from his quiet vantage point, his mind dissecting the fear, the desperation, and the predictable reactions of humanity caught in the throes of organized conflict. This was not chaos; it was a harvest.
His subtle manipulations had reached a new level of sophistication. Lord Valerius, completely convinced of his own strategic genius, became a tireless advocate for aggressive expansionist policies in Temeria, funneling resources towards border fortifications and troop mustering. Aizen gently nudged Valerius's more impetuous decisions, ensuring they were just ambitious enough to provoke a reaction from rival kingdoms, but not so reckless as to immediately backfire. The goal was to exacerbate existing tensions, to transform simmering resentment into open hostility.
Alaric also began to exert a subtle influence on Master Borus, the city official who had once been so gruff. Aizen ensured Borus received a series of "anonymous" reports, subtly crafted through Kyōka Suigetsu, that pointed towards minor instances of corruption within the city's merchant guilds. These weren't grand betrayals, but petty embezzlement and favoritism. Borus, armed with what he believed was his own keen investigative work, began a quiet purge, destabilizing the merchant council and creating vacancies that Aizen could later exploit with his existing pawns like Torvin. The constant infighting within Dravograd itself served as excellent practice for larger, more complex political maneuvers.
His research in the Scriptorium grew even more specialized. Aizen found himself poring over ancient magical texts that described phenomena far grander and more terrifying than the everyday Signs of a Witcher or the elemental spells of a mage. He uncovered cryptic diagrams depicting ley lines crisscrossing the Continent – invisible conduits of immense magical energy. Some diagrams hinted at specific rituals that could manipulate these lines, potentially causing widespread cataclysms or drawing power directly from the land itself. He saw these as a potential alternative or complement to his Hōgyoku equivalent, a means to fundamentally reshape reality on a colossal scale.
One particularly intriguing passage, hidden within a decaying tome on forgotten druidic practices, spoke of a "Weaver of Worlds," an entity capable of distorting space and time. Aizen's interest was piqued. This resonated with the hints of Elder Blood and its dimensional properties. He began to cross-reference these texts with the vague rumors he had heard about Geralt's mysterious ward, Ciri. The confluence of these rare, powerful phenomena was too coincidental to ignore. He filed the information away, a critical piece in his long-term strategy to acquire such power.
The Witcher, Geralt, eventually departed Dravograd, leaving behind a city grappling with heightened monster activity and the omnipresent dread of war. Aizen had continued his subtle observations of the Witcher, noting his fighting style, his moral code (which Aizen found predictably simplistic), and his uncanny ability to attract trouble. He had even subtly nudged Geralt towards a particularly challenging contract in a nearby, heavily forested region, knowing the experience would either further hone the Witcher's skills for future use or simply remove him from the immediate vicinity.
A quiet satisfaction bloomed within Aizen. The pieces were moving. The fear and instability gripping the Northern Kingdoms were not obstacles, but opportunities. They created distractions, fractured resistance, and provided abundant spiritual and magical energy for him to eventually harness. He had spent years laying the groundwork, understanding the system. Now, with the drums of war sounding across the Continent, the stage was finally being prepared for a performance of truly grand deception. The subtle nudges were giving way to calculated shoves. The whispers, he knew, would soon become roars, all orchestrated by his unseen hand.