Psionic Ascension Starting with The Witcher

Effensor drew his Brock Rhine sword, glanced at the mirror again, but did not seal the portal directly.

He first threw the woman's body into the mirror, and then dragged over the merchant's body to do the same.

When the body was thrown into the mirror, it was like a stone being thrown into a lake. Ripples spread outwards from the body, and then gradually returned to calm.

After destroying the evidence, Effensor then had the shadows attach to the surface of the mirror.

Just like the portal to the Elemental Ring before, black shadows began to spread across the mirror, gradually enveloping it.

Effensor had assumed this would be as simple and easy as the one in the Elemental Ring. It seemed sealing the portal wasn't so difficult after all.

Until a dark figure suddenly appeared in the mirror.

At first, it was just a small black dot, which Effensor didn't notice at all, mistaking it for a shadow. However, the small black dot quickly enlarged and gradually formed a human-shaped outline.

He suddenly raised one hand...

Before Effensor could react, a tremendous force suddenly struck him, sending him flying several meters away and crashing heavily into the closet where the woman had been hiding.

"cough!"

Effensor coughed up blood, feeling a burning pain in his back. Although his bones weren't broken, his back was probably bruised and purple.

In addition, he also felt a dizzying sensation, possibly caused by a blow to the back of his head.

"What the hell...?"

He was completely bewildered. Everything had happened so suddenly. He only saw a dark shadow suddenly appear in the mirror, and then he was knocked away.

It's like taking a hit from the Mark of Aard.

The dark figure in the mirror was gesturing wildly, doing something unknown. Effensor didn't understand what it meant either, but he was currently preoccupied with the pain in his back and had no time to think about these random movements.

Fortunately, although the shadowy figure made some moves, it was unable to interfere with the portal's closing process.

The shadows continued to spread, gradually enveloping the mirror. The shadows in the mirror also gradually subsided, quietly watching Effensor.

When the last shadow completely envelops the mirror, the person in the mirror and the mirror itself are distorted and compressed by the shadow, and finally disappear into nothingness.

His bizarre appearance and calm departure made it seem like a farce that started strong but ended weakly.

Only Effensor, who had been slapped by him, knew how horrifying this farce was.

"What is this thing?"

Effensor was completely baffled; it all happened so inexplicably.

Damn it...

He sat on the ground for a long time, trying to catch his breath. He had been gasping for air since being patted, his chest felt heavy and his back ached as if it were splitting open. At the same time, Effensor didn't forget to bandage his still-bleeding waist with the piece of cloth he had torn from the merchant's clothes earlier.

Finally, Effensor clutched his back and limped away from that damned warehouse.

I didn't make any money, and I got injured instead.

The thirty-odd ducats found on the merchant's corpse were once quite valuable, but after the start of the Northern War, King Henset of Cordwin minted a large number of inferior coins and purchased supplies everywhere, causing a large amount of ducats to flow into the public sphere, and they have been severely devalued to this day.

Before dawn, Effensor found Walker in the dark and then fled the village in the dark.

When I interrogated the merchant earlier, I forgot to ask him if he had any accomplices. If they come looking for us now, we'll probably have to fight again.

It's better to avoid trouble, so let's just get out of here quickly.

A day and a night passed quickly. After getting away from the village, Effensor slowed down and disinfected and stopped the bleeding of his wound on horseback. He then applied medicine to the wound and wrapped it in a white cloth.

He didn't have much of a solution for his still aching back; one of the downsides of having a lot of muscle is that it's hard to feel the whole back.

At midnight, Effensor set up the warning traps, sat down against a large tree, and slowly closed his eyes.

Although his back was very sore, he would never sleep on his stomach.

If an insect crawled into your nostril or ear... that would be a nightmare, and Effensor doesn't want to relive that experience.

The surroundings gradually quieted down, and only the sound of the wind remained in the tranquil night; even the chirping of insects and birds became rare.

Effensor wasn't sure if he was asleep; he just kept his eyes closed, trying not to think about anything. But the clearer his mind was, the more distinct the dull ache in his back became, making him extremely uncomfortable.

endure……

As long as I fall asleep, it will be fine.

Effensor hypnotized himself, and he wasn't sure if it worked, but after a period of struggle, he gradually forgot everything.

The need to maintain steady breathing, keep a clear mind, and the back pain all disappeared.

This is a perfectly silent world, a place of absolute peace that can never be found on earth...

This is a great place to sleep forever.

"jingle!"

"Zzzzt!"

The instant he heard the alarm bells of the warning traps being triggered, Effensor completed the entire sequence of actions: getting up, waking up, drawing his sword, and searching for the enemy.

His eyes widened, and he glared angrily at the figure in the moonlight, his expression tinged with morning grumpiness.

The uninvited guest, however, seemed unfazed, nonchalantly leading his horse and slowly approaching Effensor.

As he drew closer, Affinso's hostility diminished considerably once he saw his face clearly.

"Cohen?"

He frowned and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. Actually, I didn't plan to see you... but I think either I was lucky enough, or fate arranged this meeting."

Under the moonlight, Cohen spoke slowly, his gaze towards Effensor quite strange, making Effensor somewhat uncomfortable.

Determination, joy, anxiety, resolve...

What is he going to do?

What does he want to do?

Looking at Cohen's unshaven face, Effensor had a vague feeling that Cohen's visit to him was probably for something important.

……

"Igni..."

Sparks flew from his hands, igniting the long-extinguished campfire.

Effensor and Cohen sat facing each other by the campfire.

"You joined the army?" Effensor looked at Cohen in surprise, completely baffled by his actions.

"right."

Cohen nodded silently and placed a metal can filled with water on the fire to boil.

“You’re a witcher, not a soldier.” Effensor shook his head. “I know you might want to stop the Men in Black’s invasion, or you want to do your part for the North, but that doesn’t mean you have to join the army. There’s so much more you can do outside the army.”

"I understand." Cohen nodded slightly. "I joined as a volunteer, and I will leave after helping them achieve victory."

"You will surely die on the battlefield."

Effensor did not continue to discuss "should or should not," but directly gave his predicted outcome.

"It may sound arrogant to say this, but I must make it clear to you that if you do not have the same special ability as me, which allows you to use powerful hand seals, then you cannot return intact after a bloody battle like I did, relying solely on swordsmanship and physique."

"If you participate in a large-scale battle, you're purely gambling with your life."

Cohen paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "I know that too."

"Then why would you put yourself in such a dangerous situation?"

"This time is different."

"All wars are the same."

"No, no, wars for interests are always the same, but a war for liberation is the first of its kind."

"For what...the war?"

Effensor's brows furrowed deeply, and he suddenly felt a strong desire to investigate Cohen's words.

"Today it's Sintra, yesterday it was Aibin and Nasser, tomorrow it will be the whole north."

Cohen's voice was calm but trembled slightly, yet anyone could see his unwavering fighting spirit on his face.

"There are hundreds, even thousands, of volunteers like me who are fighting for freedom in the North."

“Even so…” Effinso shook his head again, “how can a chaotic and untrained makeshift force possibly fight against the Nilfgaardian legions?”

"In fact, we are not chaotic, and not everyone is untrained."

Cohen suddenly smiled, the herpes scars under his beard flashing in the firelight.

"The Sintra knight you rescued before, the one named Gitov, he's a great leader. We've assembled an army of seven thousand men, gathered on the banks of the Yaruga River, and are about to cross to liberate the ravaged Sintra from the clutches of the men in black..."

"etc!"

Effensor was startled. He looked at Cohen in disbelief and asked, "Who did you say? Gitov?"

“Yes.” Cohen nodded. “He is the second son of the Earl of Sokonia, the abandoned second son. But now, after the death of Duke Windham, he is the most prestigious of all the survivors of Sintra. In terms of lineage, seniority, strength, experience, and any other aspect, Gitov is the undisputed leader.”

"Of course, most importantly, he was the only one who dared to raise his sword and fight back to the other side after the Duke of Windham's death..."

"..."

Effensor looked up at the sky, trying hard to recall the hazy memories in his mind, and remembered the scene he saw sitting in front of the computer screen decades ago.

He did not find a character named Gitov in the vague future he remembered, just as he had never heard of the names Brondan or Cohen.

Has he forgotten? Or were these events simply not shown in the game? Or... has he already changed history?

"Effensor?"

Cohen softly called his name, bringing him back to reality from his contemplation of heaven.

Tell me more about your business.

Effensor said earnestly, and Cohen naturally agreed.

The two men talked across the campfire, amidst the flickering firelight and the rustling wind.

Cohen recounted their story slowly but meticulously, while Effensor asked questions from time to time, but mostly listened attentively.

Gradually, the major events that had occurred since Gitov left the farm became clear to Effensor.

The Battle of Sodeng Mountain left both sides severely weakened.

The Nilfgaards suffered a major defeat and were forced to retreat to the other side of the river to lick their wounds, suppress a renewed rebellion within their borders, and deal with the Skellige's rampant sweep of the coastal regions.

The northern kingdoms also realized that times had changed.

They needed to build a larger army to defend against the powerful enemy in the south. However, due to the constraints of the feudal system, the kings, as rulers, no longer had the means to fund such an expansion.

To win the Battle of Sodden, Temuria and Aden had already emptied their treasuries, and to get more money, they would have to turn to the nobles within their borders. Therefore, Temuria chose to cut spending and borrow money from domestic merchants and nobles, deploying the Blue Guard and the army to support the borrowing effort.

Aden chose a different path—supporting mercenaries.

The weapons and equipment salvaged from the Sodeng Mountain battlefield were traded cheaply to several mercenary groups, which were supported in expanding their operations and allocated land as bases. This eliminated the need for high maintenance costs, and the mercenaries even received substantial annual dividends. Although the mercenaries were driven by money, by strategically placing trusted confidants and indirectly controlling them, the possibility of them being turned by the Nilfgaardians could be largely avoided.

Even when necessary, these mercenaries can be converted into regular soldiers at any time.

At this opportune moment, Gitov approached Demavi III and persuaded him to provide a substantial sum of money, along with a batch of weapons and equipment salvaged from fallen soldiers, thus successfully establishing the Sintra Homeland Army.

After the last organized resistance in Sintra was crushed and Duke Windham of Atre was executed in a grand ceremony, the remaining rebels were no different from bandits. They could only survive by attacking Nilfgaardian settlers or by plundering, and it was only a matter of time before they were completely suppressed and quelled by Marshal Menno Kuhun.

Suddenly, a message arrived from Aden, and the leaderless exiles of Sintra found their leader again.

Queen Mivi took the opportunity to expel the remnants of the defeated army in Leiria and Livia, and they gathered under the command of Gitov; the defeated troops who were stranded in the regions of Brug and Weden also traveled thousands of miles to Wengerburg, just to continue their unfinished work.

Even the scattered refugees began to migrate towards Aden, heading towards Gitov with hope, looking forward to returning to their homeland one day.

Gitov was the only one who explicitly raised the banner of "reclaiming Sintra and driving out the Men in Black" and took action.

A month earlier, Cohen had crossed the Yaruga River with the Sintra Homeland Army, defeated four thousand Nilfgaardian defenders, and captured Vendosdale on the opposite bank of Libya.

When he left, the Sintra Homeland Army had already begun constructing fortifications, intending to turn this small town in Dol Angra into a forward bridgehead.

Gitov's radical actions were timed perfectly. At this point, although the Nilfgaardians were already preparing for the next war, they were indeed unable to immediately assemble an elite army to crush the Sintra homeland forces with overwhelming force.

This directly disrupted the actions of both the North and South, bringing their initial probing into an abrupt halt.

The northern kingdoms discovered the weakness of the Nilfgaardians and realized that their previous frequent probing was nothing but a bluff.

Of course, the Northern Kingdoms were not ready for war either. The last major war had just ended, and they needed to recuperate, quell peasant uprisings, and stabilize the country.

So, although no formal declaration of war was made, almost the entire north did the same thing—supported Gitov and his army.

Let the Sintra Homeland Army be a nail driven into the flesh of the Nilfgaardian Empire, drawing the Nilfgaardians' attention and bleeding the men in black.

In a short period of time, the attention of both the North and the South was focused on this place, making it the center of the storm.

……

As dawn broke, Cohen leaned against a tree and wearily closed his eyes. He needed a good night's sleep to relieve the fatigue from his long journey.

Effensor also leaned against a tree, watching the morning light pierce through the deep night, like a sharp sword tearing open the dark curtain that shrouded the fields, making the sky bright and the evil spirits gone.

It seems he saved someone extraordinary.

This world is truly magical, so unreal.

When Gitov left the farm, Effensor thought it would be the last time the two of them would see each other.

He had thought that someone like Gitov would rise and fall in the turbulent world and eventually die somewhere in the world, but he never expected that in the blink of an eye, the lone knight would become the commander of the legion.

An unknown nobody became a trendsetter of the times in the blink of an eye.

Sometimes, these heroes and great men lack the opportune moment to rise to prominence and the platform to showcase their talents, ultimately dying in obscurity.

Just like Brondan, who was still buried in the snow, he was the strongest person Affinso had ever seen in terms of combat strength. However, even such a person with unparalleled strength could not dominate the world. Instead, his second-in-command took advantage of the situation to rise up.

Effensor scratched his temple, pulled out a louse, flicked it away with his finger, then found a shady spot, closed his eyes, and took a nap.

The age of blood and fire has gradually entered its most frenzied phase.

And he seems to want to write his own story into it, personally participating in the tragic epic that follows.

Cohen needs his help, and so does Gitov.

He was also planning to go back to Sintra.

Then he seemed to have no reason to refuse...