The Witcher World: The Path to Domination Begins in Velen

The cracks on the tree heart opened up all at once, and a suppressed voice surged out. It was no longer a promise or a threat, but pure malice after the disguise was torn off.

"You will regret this, mortal! Do you think the old witch will keep her promise? They will betray you, just as they betrayed me!! Ridiculous! Foolish decision! Your manor will be burned to ashes!! No one will remember you!!"

Ron cleaved his final sword strike into the very center of the tree's heart. The buzzing dissipated, leaving only a few scattered hissing sounds.

Geralt sheathed his sword, glanced one last time into the depths of the cave, and said, "Let's go."

It was nearly evening when we returned to the entrance of Lower Walen village, and the setting sun painted the entire open space a dark orange.

At the village entrance, the Baron arrived with twenty veterans. He stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. His beard was longer than before, but his eyes were clearer than ever.

On the other side, Tamara and the witch hunters' party arrived. She saw the Baron standing in the open space and paused for a moment. The Baron also saw her.

"Tamara, my dear daughter, won't you give your old man a hug?"

"Stay away from me. I'm here to see my mother. I'm not like you; I won't watch her die in the swamp."

"What do you think I'm here for? Of course, I'm here to take her home. I know I'm not a good husband or a good father, but I've changed for the better," the baron said hastily, seemingly trying his best to salvage something.

Tamara ignored the Baron's explanation, turned her gaze away, and walked towards her own group.

As she passed by Grazan, the witch hunter captain crossed her arms and a playful smile played on her lips.

"The infamous Bloody Baron of Velen," Graden's voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for everyone in the open space to hear.

"He couldn't even protect his own family. Now his wife is gone, and his daughter is standing further and further away than the two banks of a swamp. How ironic."

The baron did not answer. He moved his sword-wielding hand slightly, then released it. The veterans behind him stirred for a moment, and someone muttered a curse under their breath, but no one made a move.

Ron and Geralt walked towards this place under the dark sky and stopped in the open space where the standoff was.

The two sides were briefly informed of the outcome of their negotiations regarding Anna and the curse. The tree heart had been destroyed, and the old witch was to fulfill the contract. If they broke the contract, everyone present would take action immediately.

The old witch was already waiting for everyone in the courtyard; Anna was not there, only the old witch.

Weaver stood in the center of the courtyard. She was the smallest of the three sisters, with her spine protruding from under her skin. Sparse gray hair hung down from her scalp, strands clinging to her sunken cheeks.

The cook was twice as wide as the weaver, and her belly hung down to her knees like a leather bag filled with hot water.

The murmuring old woman was in the corner, her grayish-brown wrinkled skin tightly wrapped around her skull. When she opened her mouth, one could vaguely see dense stitches on the inside of her lips. They were not silk threads, but hair, tied in knots, deeply embedded between her gums and the bottom of her tongue.

The weaver spoke first, her voice thick with emotion at the end, "Oh, they're back, and they brought quite a few guests. How rude of me, I didn't even have time to properly dress up..."

Geralt paused for a moment, then spoke first, "Hmm, you... look a bit different from the ones on the tapestry."

The witch hunters collectively took a step back, some with their hands already on their sword hilts, whispering prayers for the eternal fire.

Graden did not retreat, but his jaw was clenched. The thing in front of him was outside his experience and did not seem to belong to any known monster species.

The baron's hands were trembling, not from fear, but from some kind of suppressed and restrained anger. He muttered a curse that only he could hear.

Ron paid no attention to the grotesque old witch before him, his face as calm as a still lake. "It's time for you to fulfill your contract."

"That thing is indeed dead," she turned to the Weaver to confirm. "The traces have disappeared into the ley lines."

"Great, we sisters always keep our word."

The Weaver clapped her hands in satisfaction, making a few loud beats. "Now, fulfilling the agreement, the curse on Anna Strung has been lifted, and her contract is now void."

Ron stared intently at them and asked, "Where are they?"

The cook chuckled, and the wooden door at the back of the house was smashed open, breaking in two, and a huge, dark blue monster squeezed out.

Her body had been completely mutated, and she made a low gurgling sound as she walked. Only her face still vaguely resembled Anna's original features.

"Anna!" came the Baron's voice. He took a step forward, his voice trembling.

Tamara stood a few steps behind Gradden, her eyes fixed on the monster, before collapsing weakly to her knees. "Mom...Mom!"

"You said the curse has been lifted?" Ron turned around, his eyes filled with an unusually fierce anger, staring intently at the Weaver Girl. "Make her return to normal!!"

The weaver tilted her head, lightly tapping her chin with her finger, her tone even more cloying than before, "Ah, the handsome young man is angry. He looks much better than his cold demeanor just now. Of course, the curse has been lifted."

She no longer has the curse mark on her body, and the contract is null and void. We sisters have always been the most honest and trustworthy people...

She paused, then pointed a claw at the monster. "But she released my little darlings without permission. As punishment, she broke the rules and was outside the scope of the contract."

The spear was drawn from the leather bag, its tip carrying a heavy arc of light and a low whistling sound that pierced the night. It pierced through the weaver's chest and struck the wooden house behind her, shattering large sections of the wooden wall.

The three old witches were no longer there; only scattered withered leaves and laughter gradually dissipating into the mist remained in the air, before being dispersed by the night wind.

A moment later, the silence was broken when someone found the old witch's secret chamber. In the center of the cellar was a heavy wooden table covered with runes, with four different dolls placed side by side on the table.

This is the most difficult and dangerous transformation curse to break. Geralt bent down to look at it, shook his head and said he could try to break it, but witchers are not actually good at breaking curses and can't guarantee anything.

Ron stood there for a moment, seemingly pondering something, then took off the ring Kayla had given him and turned it twice clockwise and three times counterclockwise.

The magical symbols engraved on the ring flickered in the darkness, and after a moment, a portal gradually took shape, with a halo of light slowly rippled on the cellar walls.

Kayla stepped out of the portal, still wearing slippers. Her light blonde hair was blown by the airflow from the portal and fell over her shoulders. Her arms were trembling slightly.

It wasn't because of the cold; it was because the magical chaos at the teleportation point far exceeded that of ordinary anomalies. She didn't know what the other side was, but she knew very well that when he was able to use this ring, the situation must be terrible.

She first noticed the cursed object on the table, then noticed the fleeting worry on Ron's face before his expression returned to normal.

"Wait a moment," she leaned over the table, hovering her hand above the four items, sensing the remaining traces of the curse in turn.

"If I hadn't used the True Sight potion, the curse on this bracelet would have definitely fooled me. You owe me a huge favor."

She carefully brought the purple hollyhock doll close to Anna's almost lifeless face, pressing it against her remaining skin to feel the subtle resonance between the magic and the cursed object, and then gently recited an extremely ancient incantation.

Anna, in her monster form, began to shrink and fade, her outer skin cracking and peeling off. Gradually returning to normal, Anna lay on the ground, breathing softly.