"Lannister…" the bearded officer muttered haltingly. "You are as formidable as the intelligence reports said. No wonder they haven't been able to take Cintra at the front yet."
His voice was shaking, as were his legs, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. However, his hands discreetly searched for the dagger strapped to his back.
All the Nilfgaardian soldiers around him had fallen. He was the only one left alive. And if Lann hadn't killed him yet, he knew perfectly well what awaited him.
'The Black Sun guides me,' the officer thought determinedly. 'I must not reveal a single word about the Empire.'
He closed his eyes, ready to launch an attack and force Lann to end his life. But when he opened them again, he saw only a hand glowing with a white glow.
[Axii Sign - Delusion]!
"Your name… Forget it, I'm not interested." Lann shook his head and asked another question. "Better tell me, how many were there and how did they manage to infiltrate the island of An Skellig?"
The officer, who seconds before was ready to die without speaking, now replied in a trance: "We were a total of 143 warriors. At sea we encountered soldiers from the Duchy of Arc Coast. They knew the situation in An Skellig well and helped us infiltrate."
Lann frowned at the name. He immediately remembered that this duchy was responsible for the political crisis that had forced Gerd to flee to Skellige.
"And what happened to the Arc Coast soldiers?"
"We killed them all."
Lann let out a slight laugh. That makes sense too. "They came to Skellige with only a hundred men? What was Emhyr's plan?"
"We wanted to bring more soldiers, but we had to reduce the number in order to transport the catapults," the officer replied in a monotone. "Besides, this was not ordered by His Majesty the Emperor."
Lann raised an eyebrow. Did they act on their own?
The Nilfgaard Empire reminded Lann a lot of the ancient Roman Empire from his previous world. Both shared certain similarities in their political structures.
The supreme governing body in Nilfgaard was the Nilfgaard Senate. In the early years of the empire, the Senate and its members held absolute power. However, when Emhyr ascended the throne, his iron-fisted rule shook the Empire to its foundations. With each war he waged and won, power became increasingly concentrated in him, until he finally established a centralized monarchy under his absolute rule.
Now that Nilfgaard had unified the south and begun its expansion northwards, the Senate had become little more than a symbolic institution, further fueling internal tensions within the Empire.
In addition to this, there were conflicts between the new nobility, made up of those who had earned merit in war, and the old aristocracy. There was also friction between the Emperor, who ruled autocratically, and the powerful families within the Empire. Although Nilfgaard had grown greatly stronger under Emhyr's rule, his domain was still young and fragile, with turbulence lurking beneath the surface.
However, all these problems were overshadowed by Emhyr's continued military victories at the front. No one dared to openly challenge his authority, although conspiracies were brewing in the shadows.
As the Emperor expanded the Empire's borders with his army, the members of the Senate, who saw their power crumbling, were not prepared to sit idly by. But what could unite people more than the profits of war?
The answer was simple: revenge.
The Skelligers had raided Nilfgaard in the past, when they were not yet a military power. Many of the current nobles and high officials had experienced these horrors firsthand. The Senate planned to use the desire for revenge against the Skelligers to gain the favor of these nobles and officials, thus strengthening their position.
In the eyes of the Senate, attacking Skellige also fitted perfectly with Emhyr's expansionist strategy in the north. There was no downside to it, and when it was all over, the Emperor would have no choice but to acknowledge their merits, whether he liked it or not.
"I think I understand now why your Senate can barely breathe under Emhyr's rule," Lann said, shaking his head. "So, since there are so few of you, you're not really planning to invade Skellige… You've just orchestrated a decapitation plan, have you?"
"That's how it is."
"That makes me feel a little more at ease." Lann sighed in relief. "I also thank you for the valuable information you have given me. Knowing that the fissures within the Empire are much greater than I expected is excellent news for me."
At that moment, the effect of the Axii Sign wore off. The bearded officer seemed to wake up from a dream and staggered back, a look of pure terror on his face.
"What... what did I just say? No... Lannister! What have you done to me?"
Lann raised his sword and began to slowly advance towards the officer, who continued to back away.
"You... you hypnotized me! You made me spill all the information! And on top of that... you can summon an ice giant, a killing machine on the battlefield... What kind of wicked magic is this? Lannister, you've become a sorcerer! No... you're something even more terrifying than that!"
Fear filled the officer's eyes as he stared at Lann's blade. All his previous determination had vanished. "No... I can't die here... I have to get this information back! I must warn them that Lannister...!"
Lann's sword swung like a flash of light. No matter how experienced the officer was as a warrior, no matter how skilled he was with a sword, he was unable to dodge the attack. However, the death he expected never came. Instead, excruciating pain seized his limbs, causing him to fall heavily to the ground.
"You will have no chance to bring this information back to Nilfgaard. You must die here." Lann looked at him emotionlessly and added, "But not yet. Don't worry, your death will have a great purpose... though, of course, that purpose will only benefit me."
...
A gigantic Drakkar stood imposingly on the cliff.
This ship was believed to have belonged to the legendary Tyr and had won countless victories in battle. However, the passage of time had rendered it unfit for sailing the seas. Nevertheless, the Tuirseach clan preserved it, moving it to a cliff on the island of An Skellig.
Each generation of the Tuirseach clan took it upon themselves to restore and preserve both the ship and the lands around it, ensuring that the traces of its glory would not fade. At the request of successive jarls, the druids of the Druid Circle had planted an oak seed within it, which, after centuries of growth, now stood as tall as a tower. Over time, the ship, the tree, the cliff, the island and the Tuirseach clan had merged into a single symbol of Skellige history and lore.
Raised platforms had been erected around the nave, lit by rows of torches, braziers and a great bonfire. From the branches of the oak hung the emblems of the seven great clans; in the centre was the blue shield with the roaring beast of the Tuirseach, flanked by the emblems of the other six clans.
Eist sat in the ship, leaning against the great oak tree. Above him the wind roared; beneath his feet the cliff stretched out to the raging sea, as if all of Skellige were his throne.
The coronation ceremony had been interrupted when the ice giant attacked the Tordarroch clan, but now, at last, the king of the islands was ready to receive his true investiture.
Before the oak stood Donar an Hindar. As the wisest and most benevolent of the jarls of the seven clans and lord of the Temple of Freyja, he enjoyed a position of great prestige in Skellige, making him the perfect choice to preside over the ceremony.
Donar spread his arms and solemnly proclaimed to the crowd, "Not long ago, the cursed followers of the Svalblod cult raided our banquet, taking many of our brave warriors from us. But Eist Tuirseach led our men and ended the threat, ridding the islands of that evil once and for all."
On the raised platform, an idol of Svalblod burned, becoming kindling for the great bonfire. As Donar extolled Eist's achievements, cries of ecstasy began to rise from the crowd.
"But the misfortune did not come alone," Donar continued. "Before being exterminated, Svalblod's minions had unleashed their evil, this time on the island of Undvik, unleashing monsters upon the island and endangering the very existence of one of the ancient clans."
From the platform, Harald looked at Eist with a mixture of gratitude and renewed determination. Thanks to the help of the druids, his spirit had recovered, although the after-effects of the trauma still tormented him.
The jarls of the other four clans were also present, standing in the front row, ready to witness Eist's coronation.
"Many warriors have fallen to these calamities, but the suffering has come to an end thanks to one man." Donar waved his staff. "Today, all sorrows are dispelled; today, by the grace of the Holy Mother, our ancestors and the clans, we welcome our new king."
Eist stood solemnly. On his head shone the iron crown, in his hand rested the ancient bronze sword.
Donar stepped back to the edge of the platform, and the others followed suit, bowing in respect. "Let us swear allegiance to our new king, chosen by the islands, by the ancestors, and by the gods."
A thunderous clamor ran through the crowd. Eist's name echoed in chants that drowned out the sound of the wind and waves. Warriors raised their weapons, cheering wildly.
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