The Witcher World: The Path to Domination Begins in Velen

Chapter 120 Harold and Otto

Ron picked up the enormous giant's head, weighed it in his hand, and turned to look at Halma, who was wiping his longsword.

"Halma, what are your plans next?"

Halma sheathed his longsword, wiped the blood from his face, and grinned. "Of course, we're going back to Kel'Thuzad for the throne battle! It's a once-in-a-lifetime event. Ron, come with me. I'll tell everyone about your legendary feat of taking down a giant with your bare hands. Believe me, all the girls on the archipelago will go crazy for you."

"Yes, I was just about to go there too," Ron nodded. "I have an important business deal to discuss in Keldra."

Halma patted his chest. "We're comrades who have fought side by side, so your problems are my problems. If there's anything I can help with, don't hesitate to ask."

"Perhaps we really need your help with this," Ron said with a smirk. "Let's go back to the camp at the foot of the mountain and meet up. I'll explain everything to you in detail after we get on the boat."

The group left the giant's lair and returned along the mountain path to the abandoned village at the foot of the mountain, where a campfire had already been lit.

Floren and Vigé warmed their frozen hands by the fire. Lev was still unconscious, but the soldiers had carefully placed him on a stretcher, and his breathing was much more stable than before.

Ron beckoned to Halma, and the two went to a sheltered rocky outcrop nearby. After confirming that no one else was around, Ron didn't beat around the bush and simply told Halma his identity and the purpose of his trip to the archipelago.

After hearing this, Halma frowned slightly. "So, Ron, you are actually a lord of Velen, and you came to the Isles to establish trade cooperation?"

"That's roughly the situation," Ron said, looking directly into Halma's eyes. "We have a common enemy, the Nilfgaardian Empire. You have the warships and ore I need, and I can provide ample food, fine armor, and weapons."

After the cooperation is reached, my trade fleet will visit the archipelago regularly, and you can sell your plundered spoils directly to me in exchange for urgently needed supplies. This will benefit both sides. My fleet will trade along the Novigrad route, passing through various countries on the northern and southern continents, and will arrive at the archipelago first on its return journey. You will have priority in purchasing from them.

Halma scratched his red beard, looking somewhat troubled. "This sounds a bit complicated, but your ultimate goal is to go to war with the Nilfgaardians, right?"

"That's no problem. Father won't refuse such an offer. My father's uncle, Ister Tursek, died during the Nilfgaardian invasion, and he hated those men in black more than anyone else."

"Halma, before you officially meet your father, please do not reveal my true identity or specific purpose," Ron instructed.

"I will continue to visit Kael'thas Port in the name of the Calad Mercenary Group. My territory is still in the preparation stage, and I don't want the news of my upcoming war with Nilfgaard to leak out in advance and cause unnecessary trouble."

Halma's expression turned serious, and he clenched his right fist and pressed it against his chest.

"Ron, I'm glad you've been so honest with me. I won't betray your trust. I swear in the name of my ancestors that I will never reveal a single word of this conversation to anyone!"

Ron patted Halma on the shoulder. He believed in Halma's promise. The islanders valued the oaths made in the name of their ancestors more than their own lives. As for why he chose to reveal his identity to Halma...

The reason is simple: Halma is straightforward and impulsive, dislikes beating around the bush, and once he trusts someone, he'll give them everything. If he discovers he's been deceived and taken for a fool...

This trust will collapse instantly and be difficult to repair. This trade negotiation cannot avoid his father, Kratz, no matter what. Halma will know the truth sooner or later. Rather than letting him hear it from someone else, it is better to make things clear himself first. This way, it will not affect the friendship between the two.

The group returned towards the coast. The huge, unfinished ship was still moored in the valley, its masts raised high. Harold was sitting on a wooden barrel in the cabin, humming an indistinct island tune, occasionally turning his head to chat with the skull next to him.

boom!

A dull thud came from the hatch, as if something heavy had been thrown into the cabin. Harold stopped humming, turned around, and froze instantly.

The ugly giant's head lay carelessly on the floor, its eyes still open, its pupils frozen with resentment and anger.

He stared at the head, motionless, for a long time.

Ron leaped through the hatch, his footsteps landing with a dull thud on the wooden planks. "Harold, our bet is over."

Harold slowly stood up, walked to the giant's head, squatted down, and reached out to touch the giant's forehead.

"You...you really killed the Frost Giant?!"

"Well, I brought his head here especially as a gift for you," Ron pointed to the ground. "How is it? Are you satisfied?"

Harold let out a dry laugh. "Satisfied... Haha, more than satisfied."

"So, do you still remember the terms of our bet?" Ron asked.

Harold's smile vanished. He lowered his head, looking at his rough hands. "Of course I remember, but Ron, I am a failed lord. I couldn't even protect my own land and people. I broke my oath, and this shame can only be washed away with blood. I... I can't go with you. I'm sorry."

"You seek death? Is this your second time breaking your vow?" Ron asked him calmly.

Harold shuddered. "I...no...I...sigh!" He slumped down, his arms hanging limply.

"You have fulfilled your oath; you fought for your people to the very last moment," Ron said, staring into his eyes. "If you are still struggling with your lordly oath, I have a way."

Harold looked up. "What method?"

"Swear allegiance to me," Ron's voice echoed in the cabin. "In the name of the Prince of the Calradic Empire, the Lord and Guardian of Velen, and the Lord of the Calradic Legion, I pardon your transgressions and allow you to abandon your former identity and serve me as a Master Craftsman."

Ron took a step forward and stood in front of Harold.

"I will shelter the people of Udvik, help them return to their homeland, and provide them with the necessary supplies until a new lord is born in Udvik."

Harold stood there, his eyes filled with intense struggle. After a long while, he took a deep breath, as if he had unloaded a heavy burden, and knelt on one knee on the wooden board.

"If you can truly help the people of Udvik, I am willing to offer my skills and serve you until my last breath. I swear in the name of my ancestors that from this day forward, Harold Hoznot will cease to exist, and I will follow you in the name of the craftsman Otto."

Ron bent down and reached out to help him up. "I accept your allegiance, Haro... no, Otto, there is a master blacksmith in my territory who greatly admires the craft of Udvik, her name is Yuna."

I believe you will get along well. Udvik's skills should not be lost. I will rebuild your workshop, recruit apprentices, and spread Udvik's reputation so that everyone knows that humans also possess forging skills no less than those of dwarves.

Otto grasped Ron's hand and nodded firmly.