Chapter 112: Tonight, We Have an Appointment at the Cemetery (Part 1)

The village of Lindenweil was geographically positioned with Lake Wendamer bordering its west, the tributaries of the Pontar River to the north, a public cemetery to the east, and natural forests to the south. Beyond those forests, further to the south, lay the Willen Marshes.

Within the public cemetery, Kaithleen was in high spirits today, freely soaring through the surrounding woods. Her master, Angolan, wore a cheerful smile as he busied himself attending to Victor’s needs.

At present, the recruit could not afford pride. Last night, she had wounded the captain’s feelings, and once the dust settled, she endured Victor Grantaire Corleone’s stern reprimand from head to toe, inside and out, leaving her utterly humiliated and bereft of hope.

Yet the girl believed her softness of heart was not to blame; rather, it was the villagers’ cunning. Their desire to lower the reward and the throng that pressed into the room to plead were understandable.

However, it was excessive when several women in their fifties broke into tears, calling in little girls and boys who sucked their thumbs in pitiful cries for mercy.

Most repulsive of all was the sight of two blacksmith employees, Yuna and Fergus, summoned from the forge to witness this grand spectacle of supplication.

Finally, she yielded first, tugging at the captain’s sleeve and whispering, “Perhaps we should lower our price this time?”

Angolan still recalled Victor’s face paling for a fleeting second, then, resigned, he turned to the village elder and asked, “So, how much can you afford to pay?”

The recruit knew the captain was displeased. He longed to say “no,” but his worries prevailed. In the end, he reluctantly agreed, and from last night until morning, his complaints never ceased.

Victor’s grumble was that a village of over a hundred people couldn’t scrape together two hundred Orens—how could that be? To expect a free ride without payment was utterly unreasonable.

Though outwardly blaming the villagers, Angolan knew the captain’s true anger was directed inward.

He was angry with himself for not having the courage to say “no.”

The girl’s impression was indelible, recalling the youth’s repeated murmurs from last night: “No wonder witchers ‘recognize coin, not people.’ Perhaps even that notion was spread by them.

Everyone has reasons for not paying; do demon hunters deserve to starve to death for it? After seeing too much, one no longer trusts tears.

Wearing fine clothes and showing kindness, making them think there’s room to bargain—that was a mistake. The initial pricing was too low, too.

From now on, we must strike directly at the source, deal with the village elder on compensation, and if no agreement is reached, turn and leave. We cannot give them the chance to create a ‘moral dilemma’…”

***

In the public cemetery, Victor, leading a local brown-and-white dog named Teddy, was much calmer than the previous night. The reward had been reduced from two hundred to one hundred twenty Orens. He cared little for the monetary loss; his anger stemmed from being subjected to “moral blackmail.”

The dog, Teddy, belonged to a villager but had been borrowed by Victor to substitute for a witcher’s extraordinary sense of smell, aiding in the hunt for the “Fair Maiden’s” lair.

Starting from the cemetery, Teddy caught the scent of “putrescine” and grew excited, trotting southward with joyful barks, longing to sprint freely. Not long after entering the forest, the dog stopped before an abandoned cabin.

The cabin’s windows and doors were dilapidated; from the gaps, the interior was fully visible, empty of any living creature. Teddy was eager to dash inside, but the youth tied him to a nearby tree stump.

Victor entered the decrepit cabin, with Angolan close behind. The interior was hollow and filled with a heavy stench. Evidence of a fire remained in the corner—a pot rested on the embers, resembling a stew pot, containing fragments of meat and bone.

Squatting down, Victor poked at the remains with a small twig. Beyond his shoulder, Angolan clearly saw slender fragments of children's femurs. Though she had seen bloodshed before, this was revolting, and the girl gagged, covering her mouth as she rushed outside.

Though the apprentice witcher felt nausea rising as well, he was mentally prepared—“Tomb Witches” were among the few necrophagous beings who consumed cooked food.

Lambert had nicknamed her “Fair Maiden” because the tomb witch’s long tongue was formidable—not only lashing prey but also able to pierce the spine and lick out the marrow clean, leaving nothing behind. Geralt was even more blunt, calling her the “Promiscuous Widow.”

After a moment, Angolan composed herself and reentered the cabin, standing beside Victor.

Pointing to a magic circle formed by human skulls in the corner, Victor said, “That creature draws power from the magical energy of the land through those skulls. If we remove them, it will surely enrage her.

We’ll use the skulls as bait in the cemetery. After dark, she’ll come eagerly to reclaim them, and we’ll face her head-on there.”

***

Returning to the village to prepare their gear, Victor and Angolan each led a horse laden with farming tools, mechanisms, bows, and arrows. They also carried two sets of ill-fitting iron armor borrowed from Fergus’s smithy.

Crossbows and bolts were banned in the countryside and thus unavailable on hand, but Victor had privately ordered a batch from Yuna to replenish soon.

Noticing the captain’s improved mood, Angolan spoke more boldly.

“Vic, what kind of monster are we dealing with this time? You haven’t told me yet!”

“We’ll explain while setting up,” Victor replied, beginning to unload.

The recruit hurried to assist.

“The monster is called the Tomb Witch, nicknamed ‘Fair Maiden.’ She’s quite agile, probably as fast as wraiths or ghouls but slower than vampire girls.

Her troublesome weapon is her elongated tongue—being struck by it causes poisoning, so we brought armor.

Ideally, if we could catch her tongue mid-attack andI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.