A fantastical journey across the heavens, beginning with the Witcher.

Some emotions, if kept inside, will only make you feel worse, but you'll feel much better after crying them out.

A few minutes later, Ciri quieted down, her face flushed, clearly feeling ashamed of her loud crying earlier.

Geralt suppressed the tenderness in his eyes and looked at Li De, who was waiting quietly to the side. A genuine expression of gratitude appeared on his otherwise calm face.

"Thank you, Li De."

If you ask him to give a long speech praising someone, he can't come up with anything; the shorter his words, the more sincere they seem.

Li De accepted the offer without hesitation.

"I deserve this thanks. In order to find this child, I was trapped in the royal city by the Nilfgaardian army. I stayed with the garrison for two days and was almost killed by the sorcerers on the other side. It was lucky that I was able to bring him out alive."

He looked up at the completely dark sky and offered his suggestion.

"Let's set up camp around here first. We can talk about the specifics after we've settled in."

With the help of two seasoned veterans who had long roamed the wilderness, a warm and bright campfire was lit up in just a few minutes. The orange-yellow flames crackled and danced, dispelling the surrounding darkness and chill.

Olivia, holding the hand of a still somewhat embarrassed Ciri, sat around the campfire, listening to Reed and Geralt recount their recent experiences.

After listening, Olivia's delicate face displayed a particularly interesting expression.

"A short-range teleportation portal that has been interfered with by magic could land anywhere. It wouldn't be surprising if it landed on a sharp rock or even thrown directly into the vast ocean. It's too much of a coincidence that the two of you actually met at the border of Brug."

Li De squatted by the campfire, reaching out to poke at the firewood, making the flames burn brighter.

"It's not all a coincidence. The Law of Accidents is tied to fate. If Geralt had entered the portal a few days later, it wouldn't be surprising if he had ended up next to Ciri."

Geralt sat on the other side of the campfire, adding a handful of dry branches, without refuting Li De's words.

Although it's not quite appropriate to say it that way, the moment the Law of Accidents was established, his connection with Ciri was even deeper than that between a biological father and daughter.

In some ways, he and Caranther were the same kind of people; neither of them believed in fate.

The Sintra royal sorcerer Mossak once told him that the more one resists fate, the stronger the consequences will be.

He didn't listen, and neither did Calanther.

He lived peacefully for so many years, visiting Ciri a few times, but never taking the child away.

Why take her away? Giving up a perfectly good princess to become a witcher with me in Kaer Morhen? That's pushing her into a fire pit!

The damned Grass Trials have claimed the lives of so many apprentices that they have made a pact not to train any more, letting the profession go to the grave with them, these old fogies.

Even now, Geralt doesn't believe that the destruction of Sintra was the result of him and Calanthe going against fate, but he also doesn't dare to say anything foolish like setting Ciri free.

After the fall of Sintra, Kaer Morhen may have been the child's last refuge.

I just hope Vesemir is prepared to take care of the children; Ciri definitely needs to learn something.

Kaer Morhen doesn't offer any court etiquette classes; all you learn is how to kill monsters...

As night deepened, the two women rested in the carriage while the witchers took turns keeping watch.

The night passed peacefully.

The next day, just as dawn was breaking and the fog had not yet dissipated, the group packed their bags, dismantled the camp, and drove their horse-drawn carriages northward toward Novigrad.

The journey wasn't exactly peaceful, but it was much safer than the border of Sintra. Occasionally, they would encounter monsters and bandits, but these were as fragile as paper in front of the two witchers.

The group walked and stopped frequently, choosing the easiest roads, and after more than ten days, they finally caught sight of the towering and majestic walls of Novigrad in the distance.

The city gate was bustling with people, and the atmosphere was lively.

Just standing outside the city, you can feel that long-lost liveliness and tranquility.

Li De drove the carriage to the car dealership to return it and get his deposit back. Afterwards, he took Olivia and Ciri to a well-regarded hotel to settle in.

Geralt went to the ferry alone to book a boat to Cordwin in advance, settling on departure for noon the next day. After settling everything, he quickly returned to the inn to meet up with the others.

That night, the four-person group, who had been tense for half a month, finally relaxed.

We ordered a table of delicious food on the first floor of the pub and a barrel of ale to start our celebration.

Li De and Geralt clinked glasses across the table, drinking and eating heartily, chatting about the interesting things they had encountered in the past six months, from bizarre monsters in the wilderness to absurd stories from taverns around the world.

As they talked, a competitive spirit inexplicably arose between them, and they started arguing back and forth, neither willing to give in.

"This kind of talk is useless. Winning verbally is not a skill. If you really want to determine who is better, you have to play Gwent."

"Come on then, but don't try to renege on your promise if you lose."

Soon, the two moved all the plates on the table to the side, clearing a flat surface to use as a card table, and each took out their Gwent decks.

The clattering sound of the cards being shuffled instantly livened up the atmosphere.

Olivia leaned back in her chair, holding her wine glass and watching with a smile, while Ciri leaned over the table, curiously staring at the cards in their hands.

Before the game even started, the two began their usual barrage of threats, their half-drunk voices carrying a hint of arrogance, the atmosphere thick with tension.

Li De shook the cards in his hand.

"It's not too late to let you lose now. Don't end up like last time, where I almost made you cry."

Geralt countered sharply.

"To use your words, 'A scholar should be looked at with new eyes after three days' absence,' I've won several rare cards and am no longer the same as before."

"Don't get your tongue caught in the wind, I think you might be more of a freak than a real freak!"

At the start of the first round, in order to prevent Geralt from disengaging from the battle, Li De decisively feigned defeat and lost the first round.

Then pretend to be unconvinced.

"No, no, this hand doesn't count. My luck was too bad. Let's play another one!"

For seasoned card players, this behavior is exactly what they want.

Geralt's lips curled up so much he almost looked like a crooked dragon king. He decisively accepted the challenge, but failed to notice the dangerous smile that Li De inadvertently revealed.

This is a tactic called "Watch me pretend to be Tang, and I'll outsmart him."

The second game immediately employed unorthodox tactics, and then the rules changed frequently, from best of three to best of five, best of seven, best of nine...

The white wolf turned completely red and became a red wolf.

Olivia was trying hard not to laugh. He's back, he's back! She felt something was off from the first game. How come Li De's skill level has dropped so much?

The second round started on a winning streak, while Geralt remained complacent, clinging to the illusion of having won one round, and continued to fight despite repeated defeats.

The two men were making quite a racket while playing cards, which quickly attracted the attention of other drinkers nearby.

Watching Li De's extremely cunning playing style, the onlookers frequently gasped in shock, whispering among themselves whether the two had a grudge against each other.

Li De was well aware of the principle of giving a slap followed by a sweet treat. Whenever Geralt was so angry that he wanted to flip the table and quit the game, he would deliberately give up a small advantage and lose a small victory to prevent Geralt from getting out of the fight.

This trick works every time, not only when Geralt is half-drunk, but also when he is sober.

After a few back and forth, Geralt's anger dissipated, and he became focused on turning the tide, completely outmaneuvered by Li De.

It was late at night when Ciri was so sleepy that she lay slumped over the table.

Geralt forced himself to resist his card-playing urge, determined to be a good father. He uttered the harsh words, "We'll play again next time," and carried Ciri back to Olivia's room.

As for Li De, he became more and more excited as he played, drinking as he went, and was already slightly tipsy.

Looking at Olivia's features, Li De became somewhat angry. The female elf met his gaze without fear, and his anger grew even stronger.

Silent all night.