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Blackheart (GoT, Witcher, DC)

In the first volume, Daniel Rylov is a former war criminal who was despised by society, executed and given a new life in another world. And this world is much better in his opinion than the last one. Blood, violence, sex and will - that's what he always needed. On the downside, he's Walder Freya's bastard... In the second volume, the Lion of Night's long-standing gratitude allowed him to leave the old woman with the scythe once again and is reborn in a new world, the world of Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher... In the third volume of Damian Blackheart's adventures. He was reborn in a new body and a new world. He had adored the Gothic universe of Batman and Joker, two of his idols from whom he had taken much from. And now he found himself right next to them. Subscribe at patreon.com/FanFictionPremium

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82 Chs

Chapter 11

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***

Damian.

- Move your hands sharper, Mika. - I shouted to a kid four years younger than me. - Speed and accuracy are sometimes more important than punching power.

- Got it, Damian. - He nodded at me and continued to attack me.

We picked this kid up just before Toussaint. He was wandering around. I could tell he was a no-talent, and his health and physical characteristics said that with proper nutrition and training he could do well. So I took him with us. The guys didn't mind, though no one asked them. Eastredd, on the other hand.

There was something strange about Eastredd. He didn't mind, but just watched everything from a distance and hummed something to himself. When I asked him directly about his opinion of my actions and why he was okay with it. He only smiled at me and answered that he had no right to forbid me to create my own "hobby group", because his task is to teach me and show me the world. And besides, he likes the guys, though they are sometimes too noisy.

Anyway, that's how it was.

A little over a month had passed since then, and we were staying at the Corvo Bianco vineyard, not directly in Beauclair. There was an old friend of my teacher's who took us in. His name was Bolus. We addressed him as Mr Bolus.

Mr Bolus was a very bright man who came from Caedwen. He was not a pure-blooded Kaedwen, though, for Bolus' great-great-great-great-grandfather was an executioner who had been given a position at the court in Bockler. For his hard and loyal service, the prince of the time granted him the winery and the surrounding lands, which passed down the main line of succession until it was broken and the title passed to old Bolus.

In his old age, Bolus, now in his seventh decade, had lost his sense of smell and hearing. And now the healers forbid him to drink alcohol. But nevertheless, the owner of the vineyards did not despair and did not listen to the advice of the healers. And he did not stop doing his business, but on the contrary began to produce even more wine. Bolus summoned friends from all over the area and organised noisy festivities every Friday, Saturday and on all official traditional and state holidays of Toussaint, treating everyone to his own wine, enjoying every moment of his life. He's a cheerful man. And he's not afraid of hell or God. I like him.

It's a pity he's going to die soon, isn't it? I'm not a healer, but I can see with my naked eye that he won't live till the beginning of spring. He's enjoying himself too much.

- Leave the boy alone, Damian. - Sparky shouted at me. - He's sweating profusely, you'll make him sweat with all this exertion.

- Watch it, Mika. - I smiled at the redhead. - Iskra is worried about you, she must have taken a liking to you. She'll eat you in the night.

He blushed and averted his eyes from her.

Iskra swore in her native tongue, and all the curses were addressed to me, of course, hurting my mental state and orientation.

- Okay. - I gave up. - Get some rest, Myka. But don't forget the hand exercises and general physical training. I built an obstacle course for you for a reason.

- Yeah, I got it. - He nodded.

He'll make a loyal soldier and a good fighter if I bring him up, but for now, let him rest.

- Why did you call me, blondie? - She asked, sitting down on the bench.

- For business. - I answered and doused myself with water, washing away the sweat.

- Aren't you afraid of catching a cold at the wrong time... although yes. I forget that you have a stronger body than ordinary people. - she waved her hand. - So what's up?

- Do you like bows?

- I do. Why?

- Here! - I took out of my bag a few different fur-wrapped bows that I had bought either in Nilfgaard or made myself thanks to my knowledge of Martin's world and life experience. Still, I have encountered many different bows in my wanderings and battles. - Can you tell me which one is the best and what it's best for?

- Hm. And these two... - she pointed to two bows that I had made before we met, but I had no opportunity to present them to her, and there was no time. And now I decided to take up the issue of arming my squad radically. - Where did they come from and why such a strange design? I had never seen such bows, not once and nowhere.

The first was a "double" bow, which appeared to be actually "mated" two bows to each other. But with a single bowstring.

The second was also a "double" but with an older history and more entertaining as I found it. The first time was back in my distant childhood on earth, when leafing through pictures on the history of the Ancient World. And on one of such pictures there were two bows attached to each other, opposite to each other, which in the end, formed the letter "X". I laughed at that bow then, I was just a simple boy, I didn't know what I was talking about. But already in Lang, when I fought with the local population and the I-Tii Empire, I often met this type of bow, which was twice as powerful and accelerated the arrow almost twice as fast as the usual one.

The first "double" bow, also increased the shooting performance, but the second one in my opinion, although less compact and convenient, but still more effective.

I decided not to make all kinds of bows I knew from different materials, and to present them to a local expert and find out which one is better. Spark is the best for this.

- You know that I don't just gather intelligent people into my company. - she nodded. - I want to create the strongest and most intimidating squad, and in the future, an army. One that will be very hard to defeat, and all the tasks before it will be nothing with the right training and the will to perform another feat.

- "Very hard to defeat?" - she smiled. - 'Why not an invincible one right away?

- There's no such thing as invincible. - I shrugged. - I may look young, but I've learnt some truths. And this is one of them. So, how about it?

- Hmm. I'll help you. I'm curious to see what comes out of all this. What are these drawings of?

- Crossbows and bows. Different designs and my ideas. Will you take a look?

- Go ahead. By the gods, you're the most interesting person I know. - she smiled sincerely and after a couple of minutes she was already calculating a lot of things in her head.

After another ten minutes she was already standing in front of the targets and testing my bows. Iskra told me that she would like to get the same samples, but from the trees that grow in Brokilon. Perhaps such bows would be the finest a sentient being could get in the world.

She was indeed enthusiastic about the task. And totally committed to the idea.

I had in my notes about "sporting" bows with assembly mechanisms and various innovations, but I gave her the idea, and what she would keep and what she would discard was her business. In such I could trust the best sharpshooter and former member of the future Queen Dol Blatan's personal guard.

Soon she forgot about my existence and I left her alone in the November chill, but with her eyes burning like a Burning Blaze on the firing range. The girl will not be lost, she is not a little child.

I decided to indulge in drinking and revelry.

Still, the aura of this place really works on me, though not as much as on our "bear" - Baldur. He drinks for ten and gets laid for a hundred. I'm even afraid of him a little...

Toussaint really is like a fairyland. A different world that only by some strange mistake fell into the Nilfgaardian Empire.

Tradition is as sacred to the people of Toussaint as it is for a Jew not to work on the Sabbath or for me to fight and fuck. That's why all holidays, such as Belletain or Yule, and the local festival of the Bucket, are always celebrated with great pomp and scope. Toussaint is an eternal holiday, in which it is easier to get stuck than in a swamp, it is a wild mixture of eternal intoxication, love affairs and typical notions of honour and nobility.

You can't get anywhere here without it...

Thanks to its favourable geographical location, everything blooms and smells in Toussaint almost all year round. And the famous vineyards, of course, the same, because winters are warm but still snowy. The climate favours the fact that the region is always green, and thanks to this the region always has fabulous scenery.

This small but proud and rich country does not have its own army as such. There are only a small number of travelling knights who watch over the borders and roads. Although the travelling knights are joined by the so-called Princely Guard - a kind of police and quick reaction fighters.

Also no agents, spies or secret services operate in Toussaint, apparently. Interestingly, even the Nilfgaardian Empire does not seek to impose its customs and orders on Toussaint, and for the most part does not violate the duchy's borders. So the book information about the "inviolability" of Toussaint is not idle twaddle, but real facts and realities. I still have a hard time accepting it though. I have a picture of the world that collapses, to take and in such a hot spot not to put at least a certain number of observers - scouts...

If Rex were here, he'd be swearing at this country and the stupidity of the foreign rulers. He's a decent, quiet chap, though. That's saying a lot.

After Spark's initial fascination with the topic I had thrown at her, I continued the next day to train Mika again. Baldur was lounging in the company of some matron. Bella was off hunting with a baron. And Istredd went off on his own. I was left alone with Mr Bolus. It was Monday, a heavy day, and Master Corvo Bianco had decided to have a hunt.

Of course, the word "hunt" is all that's left and no more.

There were fifty servants alone on this sorry "hunt", and that was only on Bolus' side, plus me, neighbours and random knights that we met on the way, some merchants and travellers, bards and jugglers....

Two hours later, when we reached the forest we needed, there were already three hundred of us. We were to hunt: me, Bolus, one wandering knight that we knew indirectly, Bolus's neighbour, a baron that serves in the Prince's Guard and one more hardened drunkard that by a silly chance has the position of "Prince's trapper".

The noise from this crowd was such that my ears were suffering, and those beasts that were in the forest should have heard us twenty miles away, no less, and scattered, of course.

But it couldn't be helped, we had to drink Est-Est first for luck, then pure Toussaint for marksmanship, then we drank some more wine for hardness of hand....

After a couple more hours of drinking we finally wandered into the woods.

I broke away from the others and just decided to take a break by sitting in a secluded area.

I chose a small waterfall and a bank near it and watched the setting sun.

The scarlet blue spilled across the sky, forming an enchanting landscape that eventually disappeared as evening fell and darkness fell. Finding my way was not a hindrance for me, I had already tracked where everyone else was by magic. It's quite possible that the others never realised I was 'lost'.

When I was already halfway to the broken camp of my own, I heard a scream nearby. A woman's, crying out for help.

I rushed there, having already drawn my sword, manoeuvring between the trees, and soon finally took flight.

An interesting picture appeared before me, a lady named Countess Notturn, who is the aunt of the local Princess Anne-Henrietta, was trying to get away from a half-dead man who was slowly approaching her and pulling his paws towards her.

I stood right between them and threw the dead man away with a spell. A specimen like that will be useful to me and Eastred for research.

- Are you all right, Countess? - I asked her without turning round.

- The creature tried to eat me, and it spoke to me. - said the Countess, huddled under a tree.

- I'm not a monster. I'm not a monster. - the monster spoke.

I took a closer look and realised it wasn't any ordinary monster or beast. It was a human being, but under the influence of a curse.

It was a woman in rags, grey and cracked skin, dark eyes, grey and decrepit shoulder-length hair like straw and was this lady's hunched figure and looks like a spotted wicht. But not to the end.

- Cursed? - I asked her, lowering my sword point towards the ground.

- Yes, yes." she nodded with a sigh of relief.

- Kill her! She's a monster.

- She's a bewitched woman, Countess. She meant you no harm, only to talk, as I understand it.

- I--" the woman hesitated. - ...my name was once called Marlena. Marlena de Trustamara. We were friends once, Daniella. Remember!

I think the countess was called Daniella, but I was Countess Notturn, Countess Notturn...

- You?! - After a few seconds, the Countess's eyes lit up with recognition and disbelief at the same time. - Impossible. Marla... you're dead. That's what your parents and your brother said!

- I was cursed. My parents disowned me after that. - whimpered the cursed one.

- Marlena! - she recognised the spotted whirlwind as her old friend. - It's been so many years. I had no idea that the monster that wanted to eat me was actually my friend.

- I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted to talk. I thought maybe you could break my spell. But I doubt you know how or if you have the power to do that.

- Maybe I can help. - I volunteered. - I am a mage, albeit a young one, but I understand what a curse is and how to break it. I assure you, I've dealt with this kind of thing before. Could you tell me the history of your curse and how long you've been living like this?

- It started almost thirty years ago. - the lady began her story. - I was the heiress of a rich family, beautiful and proud, and one day I was giving a party for my friends, and at the same time some beggar sat at the gate with a bowl and a spoon, hoping that the lady of the house, that is me, would honour the ancient Toussaint custom of "hospitality" and feed him. - she seemed to cry. - I did not honour the custom as I should have done, and so rudely drove the beggar away, whereupon he broke his spoon and cursed me, I think, with these words: "You, pretty girl, you will never want to look at yourself in the mirror again." He even promised, I think, that no one would ever sit at the table with me again, and that there would be no spoon with which I would satisfy my hunger. As a result of this, I began to rapidly turn into... a wicht. Eventually, I did turn into a monster, and stayed that way for a long time.

That was the end of her story.

I thought about it in silence for a few minutes and spoke:

- It is possible to break the spell. And if I'm not mistaken, it's quite simple. You need to find a man who will agree to share a meal with you at the same table, without using cutlery, that is, eating with his hands. There is a possibility that this will work with a woman. But a man is better, because the curse was put on by a man.

- Will you help me, Mr Damian? - The Countess asked me.

- Of course. - I nodded. I can't leave a woman in distress.

Soon she pointed out to the two of us the place where she had been living all this time. A small hut that had once belonged to her family. It had once been a hunting lodge, but now it had been forgotten and had become quite dilapidated, but Marlena had taken care of it as best she could.

Soon there she prepared a small dinner, where I ate with her without cutlery with my hands. And a minute after dinner, she lit up with a white glow and began to come into her human form little by little. In half an hour she looked like a normal woman. Yes she was almost forty years old, but still she was a woman now and not as horrible as she had been just an hour ago.

Soon we arrived at the camp of "hunters", where Countess Notturn told everyone about my feat. So they drank not only to Marlena's health and the reunion of her friends, but also to my nobility. Some even tried to knight me, but it didn't come to that. Everyone was so drunk that they didn't remember the previous toasts, let alone the knighting.

Although it did take place.

A few days after the event, when I had already forgotten a little bit about everything because of things with Spark and Mika's training, and sparring with the family from Skellige, a big procession came to Corvo Bianco.

Fifty men of the "princely guard", courtiers, neighbours again, but three people stood out the most: Lady Marlena, now dressed up, wearing make-up and looking quite handsome, Countess Notturna, and between them a young sixteen year old woman who walked majestically and confidently towards us.

It was certainly Anne-Henrietta. And she should be recognised as a pretty rather tall young girl with a sharp snub nose, blue penetrating eyes. She has brown hair arranged in a fantastically elaborate style. The Princess is dressed in a dress of rich colours - yellow, scarlet and light blue - with fanciful patterns, embroidered with various precious stones and pearls, with bouffes on the sleeves. And the deep neckline of the not inconsiderable girlish breasts, which many people have already lusted at. She also wears a lot of expensive jewellery and accessories.

- Princess. - I smiled at her. - I didn't expect to see you in person. Are you here to see Mr Bolus?

- Damian of Wengerberg? - she smiled slightly and extended her hand for a kiss. How could I refuse such a lady? - We were looking for you.

- Me? I made a fool of myself. - May I ask why me?

- You have been honourable and generous to our long-time subject and friend of our house and our aunt in particular. I have learnt in detail about an incident not far from here a couple of days ago. I've decided to reward you for your deed.

- I was just helping someone in need. - I was being modest.

- There's no need to be modest. What you did was noble, and nobility should be rewarded. Therefore, given that you have acted as a true noble and as a knight, even if you are not, I have decided to initiate you into it.

- I hope to fulfil your hopes and thoughts of myself, Princess. - I bowed slightly. - And fulfil your expectations.

- I hope so too, Damian. - She smiled, taking the sword from her knight's hands. - On your knees, Damian of Wengerberg.....