Night descended upon the mountains, wintry gales howling across the land. A pair of crimson lanterns floated around the darkness outside the mines, and then a ten-feet tall bear came out of the wooden shack.

Roy cast Observe again, but this time, things were different.

'Enraged brown bear

Age: 48 years old

Gender: Male

Status: Svalblod's believer (Svalblod is the avatar of bear and human. He is the symbol of unrelenting conflict)

HP 220

Strength: 22

Dexterity: 14

Constitution: 22

Perception: 10

Will: 10

Charisma: 4

Spirit: 6

Skills:

Bloodlust (Passive): An enraged bear knows no exhaustion, nor is it scared of pain. It desires blood and has lost part of its mind. Before it kills, feasts, or moves enough, it cannot revert to human form. It can quickly heal wounds and regain stamina by ingesting the flesh and blood of its enemies.

Berserk (Passive): Injuries will draw out even more power from the bear. The deadlier the injuries, the more powerful the bear will be.

Mark of the Fallen (Passive): Believers who accept the mark of the evil god, Svalblod, shall be granted strength. +5 to Strength and Constitution.'

***

A Vildkaarl. Ingests some sort of concoction and turns into a werebear. Realization finally struck Roy. There is no Ibayre to begin with. There was no fifth warrior. Farik himself is the bear. But he didn't seem to know he had this strength within him, and Axii failed to extract the truth. What's the deal with him? Schizophrenic? If that's the case, then the induction for Svalblod's cult is more evil than I thought. Roy had a few thoughts going through his head.

Well, if I want to, I can easily kill this bear, but then how am I supposed to explain this to the blacksmiths? Hm, then let's go with the alternative route. I'm going to turn you back into a human.

The bear stood on its hind legs, looming over the ground. It tore its claws through the air, roaring in fury.

Roy quietly took out his hand crossbow and fired a bolt. It landed on the ground beside the bear, snow splattering on its fur. The witcher beckoned at the bear, smirking at it.

The taunt worked, and the bear felt rage welling within it. It charged across the snowy ground like a war machine hurtling at its target. The ground rumbled, a trail of footprints embedding itself into the soil, and walls of snow fell off the cliff.

Another bolt flew through the air. The bear was closing in, but Roy blinked, and he reappeared behind the bear, where the broken shack was.

The bear skidded to a halt, its limbs dragging a long trail across the ground. Fog formed around its mouth, and it turned around. Seeing the witcher still in one piece raised its fury further.

Once again, it roared and charged ahead. The witcher went with his old trick, evading the charge with his Blink. The bear whizzed past the witcher and crashed into the shack's wall, leaving a big hole. Shards of wood, fog, and ice flew into the air. The roars of the bear came from within the fog, and the beast stood up, still facing the witcher.

Roy thought the beast would change its tactics, but the shapeshifting seemed to have taken more intelligence from it than he expected. The bear lost all judgment and stubbornly charged at the witcher again.

Roy started playing around with the beast, kiting it around the battlefield. Bolts flew across the air, and the witcher fluttered around the field like a phantom. One moment he would be standing before the broken shack, waving at the bear, and the next, he would be whistling right beside the mine's entrance. Sometimes he would appear between the high cliffs, clapping for the beast, and sometimes he would appear beside the snow-capped tree standing near the staircase, firing off at the bear.

Relentlessly, the witcher probed and prodded the bear. At the same time, a silvery moon was slowly climbing up the sky, raining its silvery light upon the battlefield. Heavy thuds hung in the air as a beast tirelessly charged across the battlefield, turned around, charged again, turned around, and charged again. Over and over and over.

All the running around left circles on the ground, the rushes of air coming out of the beast's snout frozen by the chill in the atmosphere, and icicles were forming around its snout and fangs.

The battle had turned into some sort of mockery with the bear being the main show. The witcher was just like a beastmaster leading his pet for a show. All he had to do was whistle, clap his hands, fire off some bolts, and motion at the beast, and the bear would charge at him stupidly.

***

Half an hour went by. Roy had used his charge of Activate and a few mana potions. Thanks to the incessant blinking, he was unhurt.

Steam was billowing from the bear, a layer of frost covering its fur. It was wheezing so loudly, Roy thought it might cough up its lungs. The beast looked at the silhouette in the distance that was standing proud and tall. No longer could it even make a sound. Like a big dog, it plopped down on its hind legs and stuck its tongue out.

"What's the matter, bub? Can't take it anymore. That's all a Svadblod believer could do?" The witcher smirked, sitting on the beam of the broken shack. "Come on. Come catch me. If you do, I'll let you take a bite."

No matter how much he tried to rile the bear up, the beast ignored him. It hung its head low in defeat and shivered. All its fighting spirit was gone, and nothing interested it anymore. It shrank at a blistering speed, shriveling up until it became a human. A gaunt, naked man lying on the messy ground, unconscious.

Roy rubbed his eyes. A moment later, he approached the blacksmith and confirmed that he had only passed out from exhaustion. Let's see anyone else play with a bear until it's too tired to even walk. Roy whipped out a clean fur coat and draped it over the blacksmith. "Hope you're happy with this, bub. Not even Coral got this kind of treatment." He put the blacksmith on his back and leapt down the path he came from earlier.

***

Daybreak would not come for at least an hour, and yet there were already a few people walking about in town, readying their fishing equipment. The smithy was brightly lit as usual. Klaf hammered away at the metal and picked it up with a pair of tongs, then he placed it in the forge to burn it further.

Yoana was stepping on the blower. "Wonder if Auckes can come back with Farik and Okala."

"Worry not, Yoana. I have a feeling his confidence is not misplaced." Klaf sat beside the anvil, wiping his sweat away. "I just hope that the crisis with the mines isn't caused by Farik."

"What? What does Farik have to do with this?"

"Long story. You weren't even born yet, and he hasn't caused any trouble in more than twenty years. I reckon he's not the source of our dilemma this time."

Yoana puckered her lips. "If Auckes does complete the assignment, will you really leave with him? You've lived on this isle for decades. Can you really throw everything away? Why don't we just make him some good gear?"

"Rules are rules, girl. Integrity and honor, remember? I will not go back on my word," Klaf said tersely. "If he does manage to rescue them, then that's a sign from Freya. Farik and Okala shall take over my position."

"B-But I don't want you to leave. I still have so much to learn about blacksmithing, and I need your guidance. Chamir's an impatient guy, and he and his wife won't stop trying to marry me off."

"My dear child, none on this isle is worthy of you." Klaf smiled and looked at his daughter. "I've thought about it for a long time. If you're willing, you may come to Novigrad with us and see the greater world. You're a girl. You do not have to bear the responsibility of shouldering the clan's future. The clan's reputation might be something of a badge of honor, but it is also a curse."

Anticipation flared in Yoana's eyes.

***

Sounds of hurried footsteps broke the serenity of the town. Yoana and Klaf looked outside the smithy. The skies were turning purple over yonder, and a cloaked figure was charging toward the town full speed ahead.

Auckes?

He had someone on his back. Gaunt, disheveled golden hair, and a big, taut, jaw. All so familiar to the blacksmiths, and they froze for a moment.

"Kalf, Yoana, I need your help. Now."

"Auckes? Praise Freya, my brother is still alive!" Overjoyed, Klaf helped the witcher get his brother back to the bedroom and placed him on the bed.

An excited Yoana woke up the sleeping Chamir and his family.

"Thank the gods you're back." All of Clan Tordarroch, two blacksmiths, a young lady, a plump woman in a big coat, and a boy who was about six years old, huddled around the sleeping man.

Chamir held the witcher's hand, his voice trembling with excitement as he said, "I have no idea what to say, Auckes. You saved a prominent member of the clan."

"Is Farik sick?" the young boy asked. "Why's he not awake? Should I get the doctor?"

"Worry not." Roy stretched his arms. Running for about seven hours with a hundred-pound man on his back made him sore. "Exhausted himself too much so he fell unconscious. Don't believe me? Check him."

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief, and Klaf quickly asked, "Is he the only one? What about Okala? And the warriors who went to save them?"

Roy shook his head, a hint of sorrow in his eyes, and the clan members felt an ominous air hanging overhead.

"I am very sorry, but he was the only living person in the cave. Everyone else is dead. About a dozen corpses when I checked. The search parties have died in battle." He waved his arm, and a pile of mementos appeared on the table beside the bed.

Klaf recognized one of the badges. It had the pattern of a hammer and an anvil on it. "That's Okala's badge!"

"Found it on a frozen corpse."

Everyone teared up, and the woman pulled the tearful boy into her embrace, while Yoana tugged on her father's sleeve. "Okala's gone? What happened?"

"As you suspected, something attacked the mines." The witcher crossed his arms and looked at everyone quizzically. "What I have to say is incredibly heavy. Women and children should stay out of this."

"I will not. Clan Tordarroch's women are every bit as brave as the men." Yoana puffed her chest out and glared at the witcher indignantly. With adamance, she said, "I can take this."

Chamir looked at his wife. The woman took her child into their room and closed the door.

Roy nodded and gave a short summary, "When I delved into the deepest part of the mines, I saw a couple of ice trolls cooking something around the forge. The ingredients? The warriors sent to rescue your people."

Yoana clasped her mouth and retched. Klaf and Chamir had a grim look on their faces. "Ice trolls? Mean looking monsters with long fangs and whole bodies hard as rocks?"

"You've seen them? Anyway, they're dangerous. If they so much as land a punch on you, you're mincemeat. Literally. If they toss a boulder at you and you got hit, your bones would be crushed."

"There's something else the elders have told me about. In the depths of the mountains of Undvik, humanoid creatures covered in ice live. And then there's the ice giant, a monster far bigger than any house on this isle." A grim Klaf clenched his fists. "We've always followed the rules our ancestors laid out, never leaving the foundry and mining area. Never venturing deeper into the mountains, and yet disaster struck all the same."

"But something's off." Chamir said, "The ice trolls might be powerful, but it's impossible that all of our search party members got defeated. And they didn't come back with any news either. So how did you escape the trolls and come back with my brother?"

"Ah, but I didn't have to escape." Roy smiled and pointed at the ground, producing a mangled troll corpse. "I've avenged the dead."

Yoana turned as white as a ghost, but she forced herself to stare at the corpse.

The blacksmiths gulped and looked at the towering ice troll. Their arms were thicker than an adult's waist. Compared to it, the witcher looked almost frail. How did a human kill something like that? They're far more terrifying than the ekhidnas.

Somehow, the witcher looked a lot stronger than he was before.

"You got one thing right. The trolls didn't kill all the rescue squad's members." The witcher added, "But they had an accomplice. I found traces of an enraged bear's activities in the mines."

Enraged bear? Yoana was bemused, but the blacksmiths looked horrified for a moment.

"What might you be talking about?"

"Oh, I am sure you know the story." They know. Roy placed a bottle of wine on the table. The concoction was made of mead, human blood, and psilocybe mushrooms. He then uncorked the bottle.

When Chamir and Kalf noticed the scent of wine and mushroom, they tensed up, their breathing stopping for a moment.

"I spent a lot of time just to find that bear, and then I ran into this bottle of wine." Roy stared at the blacksmiths in the eyes, then he ominously added, "So I gave it to Farik, and…"

"That is enough, Auckes!" Kalf blurted, then he hung his head low. "I see you know everything. Ask away. We'll answer your questions to the best of our abilities, but we promise that transformation is not done of his own volition. He is not responsible for all the murders. Someone else is. That thing inside his body is responsible for this."

Chamir looked into the witcher's eyes. With sincerity, he said, "It has been more than twenty years since the last disaster struck. We thought that thing was gone forever. Never did we expect him to ingest this poison. His colluding with the trolls came as a shock as well."

Um, maybe because they like to eat humans, are stupid, and love to talk about food? Roy thought.

"Hey, I thought we were talking about the ice trolls. What's this about liquor and bears?" The innocent Yoana scanned her family and the witcher.

"Silence, Yoana. This is not something you should ask. Get inside and stay with your aunt."

"No. I am already fifteen. I have the right to know everything. What are you hiding from me?" Yoana was red with indignation, and she shook her head, her ponytail swaying. She then scurried over to the witcher and hid behind him.

Feeling her breathing, Roy cringed a little. Why do you even trust me so much? If you don't leave now, you're going to stay with me forever.

"Alright, enough. So Farik's a Vildkaarl and a believer of Svalblod?" Roy asked, memories flooding his head. There were seven families who presided over the Skellige Isles, including Clan an Craite, Clan Drummond, and Clan Tuirseach.

***

Most people lived under these families' protection, but there was a group that lived independently from the families. They were called Vildkaarls. This group was more combative than any islanders. They lived for battle and were not affiliated with any families on the isles. They secretly worship the evil god, Svalblod. It was an entity the isles' powers had been forbidden from worshipping.

The cult would add to their ranks through the performing of a cruel ritual. The evil god of the cult loved to command its believers to conduct sacrificial rituals with live humans. Through Svalblod's blessing, the Vildkaarls would gain the power to turn into bears, but they had to first ingest a hallucinogenic concoction made of mead, human blood, and psilocybe mushrooms.

If Roy's memories were still accurate, then Bran would die in about nine years. During the banquet for the selection of a new king, a group of Vildkaarls attended the banquet. Because of the queen's conspiracy, they ingested the hallucinogenic concoction and transformed into bears, bringing a bloodbath to the banquet.

Geralt would start an investigation and point out the queen's crimes. She was then punished, and the new king ascended the throne.

***

"He was forced."

"How so?"

With bitterness and resignation, Klaf said, "Farik became a grandmaster at twenty years old, and his fame spread through the isles. It was also the very thing that invited disaster to him. A bunch of Vildkaarls took him to Ard Skellig by force, and they made him take part in the bloody sacrificial ritual. In order to survive, he killed his opponent during the ritual and allowed the bear to consume him. Since then, he became a Vildkaarl, a human with the powers of man and bear."

Roy remembered the rough process. The ritual would involve two participants, and they would fight to the death in the Ring of the Bear. The one who survived would have to lather themselves with some inciting potion and ingest the shrooms. They would have to lure an enraged bear from a cave so the beast would tear them apart and feast on them. The bear would then shapeshift, losing hair and turning into something more… human. Eventually, they would become the Vildkaarls they consumed.

Vildkaarls were known by another more infamous title—the berserkers of the Skellige Isles. Their leader was a fallen druid who defected from the isles' circle of druids, and they were a master of shapeshifting.

"The ritual forced Farik to accept the powers of shapeshifting, but he wouldn't use it unless he was in extreme anger. Or if he took some special concoction indeed."

Klaf shook his head. "He could feel something evil taking up residence within him, and he despised it. Farik had been against unnecessary bloodshed. He hates the god those berserkers worship, for It keeps inciting fights everywhere. One day, while the berserkers were distracted, he escaped the Ring of the Bear and hopped onto a vessel leading straight back to Undvik. He's told me everything. Thanks to our companionship and the distraction of work, Farik's been keeping his darker side under control well enough. Eventually, he slowly forgot that he even had a bear hiding within him. And then he eventually forgot he was a Vildkaarl. We thought Svalblod took back his powers as punishment for his betrayal."

Roy frowned. He forgot about his past? Man, so he is a schizo.

Klaf took a deep breath and raised his voice. "You might not believe this, but we've never seen him transform into a bear over the last two decades or so. He doesn't think he's related to the berserkers at all."

Roy nodded. If they'd seen the bear, the whole clan would've been decimated at this point. Then he looked at Farik, who was peacefully asleep. The guy lied even under the spell of Axii, and that could only mean one thing: he thinks the lies are the truth. He has two personalities. One is Farik the Blacksmith, while the other is Farik the Enraged Bear.

Roy could just imagine the trolls barging into the cave and fighting with Farik the Bear, tearing all the humans they saw. Deep down, Farik knew he had a monster within him, but he wouldn't admit it. That was why he came up with a fictional character called Ibayre and insisted that he was the one who shapeshifted into a bear and killed their comrades.

He locked himself in a cage and refused to leave probably because his brain told him to. It was his blacksmith persona telling him to do it in case he were to turn into a bear and hurt his family. But he couldn't stop the beast from escaping the cage.

Yoana was in shock, her jaw slack.

"Witcher, have mercy on him." Chamir looked at the mangled corpse of the troll. "In the name of my clan, I swear I will keep a close eye on him. He will never shapeshift or harm anyone."

Klaf dragged the slack-jawed Yoana from Roy. "You saved Farik, killed the trolls, and avenged our brethren. It is time for me to fulfill my end of the bargain and work as your personal blacksmith. Let's pack things up and get ready to leave for Novigrad. What do you say?"

"Great idea, but we're not in a hurry. I have one more errand to run in the isles." Roy shook his head. "Don't worry. If I really wanted to kill him, he would've been in Freya's kingdom by now. I have a suggestion." Roy paused for a moment, his eyes flickering with some sort of excitement. "Perhaps I can try to get rid of Svalblod's influence over Farik and erase the evil god's mark that's in his body."

***

***