Geralt Of Rivia Novels & Stories

He shook his head, as if he could read my internal thoughts. Sylvie turned her attention to Leo. Her features were solidified, and her blue eyes sparked out from under her glasses. "There's something more than what he's told you, Leo. If I may, I think it might be best to have Geralt look at him. See what he thinks. And let me know if anything changes." "I will," Leo agreed. Sylvie smiled softly and bowed her head. I had so many questions. Who was Geralt? What unknown creatures were in the mountains? And most importantly, what attacked Erylis? But before I could even ask, she was already gone.

“Dad…” The others look at me, stunned. AS if anything else could happen today! Alex: “This…this is your dad?” He looks up at me—my father! How could this be? Jeaoul explains. “This is man you know as your father is not who you think. His real name is Geralt, and he is a werewolf, one of our pack, entrusted to watch over you while in hiding. As soon as we recognized him, there was no doubt who you were.”

"My name is Cirilla Fiona Riannon Emyrs, granddaughter of the Emyrs family! My father is Geralt of Rivia! I bet you've heard of him before! So how about you put me down and beg for mercy?" The man let out a belly laugh. He guffawed so hard one wondered if his neck would snap from him, throwing his head to and fro. “C-Cirilla Fiona Yaddi-yadda Emyrs!? G-Geralt of f*cking Rivia!? Oh my God, are you f*cking kidding me!? Where's Yennefer? What about that bard, Dandelion? Are they gonna be riding horses in my ranch later!?"

It wasn’t fracture. It was becoming. Geralt stood beside her in that space-between-spaces. His counter-song had been a map, not a weapon. A way through the silence. He turned to me and smiled—not the bitter smile of the broken man who had returned from the void, but the gentle one I remembered from before the schism. “It was never about choosing sides,” he said. “It was about completing the song.” The figure extended her hand. And I took it. When we returned, the Vault Grove was burning.

Ezra and six northern warriors stood watch along the ridge. I walked into the pavilion alone. My plum velvet gown trailed across the stone floor, the silver First Moon Seal gleaming over my heart, my mother's diary tucked safely inside the inner pocket of my fur cloak. High King Valerius stood near the central stone hearth, a glass of dark wine in his hand, dressed in his midnight velvet coat. He turned as the heavy glass door clicked shut, a smooth, devastatingly handsome smile spreading across his sharp face. "You came, Rielle," Valerius said, his voice rich, cultured, and filled with quiet, aristocratic charm. "I knew you wouldn't leave your mother's words unopened."

He wanted to show what a true genius was—nothing could be more boastful than that. However, no one present refuted him. After all, Gerald's strength was indeed extraordinary. Fane raised an eyebrow and stared at Gerald with wide-open eyes as he took a deep breath and made a seal with his hands. Everyone heard a low hum as if a beast was inhabiting Gerald’s body, and a mustard-yellow rune started circling between his fingers as a layer of apparition appeared behind him.

“I am not vulnerable, Geralt. Just not in the mood to look at this…“—I gestured my hand to the people below us and continued—“this sickness.” “Then why are you here?” he simply answered after leaning sideways against the balustrade. “Why are you not with that human? I’ve heard talks that she’s your mate. Lady Tara and Lady Sierra even believed so.” I growled inwardly as that word escaped his lips. “She’s none of your concern, or anyone’s for that matter,” I snapped.

“I just realized that you look like someone,” He does his iconic eyebrow raise, “Like who?” “Geralt of Rivia,” and I watch as his face morphs into a cringe. “If I have to hear that again, I’m going to explode, I don’t look like that freak of nature,” he grits out. I laugh,” You do,” “Julie,” he warns. I stop laughing and press my lips into a thin line, “I’m sorry.” He lets out a groan and I can’t hold it in, I clutch my stomach and laugh.

Curtis walked into the bathroom and saw the naked man sitting in the bathtub. As Curtis looked at the face that was almost identical to Daniel’s, he held back his excitement. Just as Curtis was about to call out to him, the man in the bathtub spoke first. "Who are you? Who let you in?" Geralt was furious as he looked at the stranger who had suddenly appeared. He thought the visitor was Edna, so he allowed her to enter. He didn't expect it to be a man.

"Just a few of you and you think you can kill me? You're not quite there yet." Sebastian looked at the old man calmly. The old man flicked the sword with his finger while his eyes flashed coldly. "This is the funniest joke I've ever heard. Do you know who I am? I'm Rivia!" Sebastian narrowed his eyes slightly. The old man before him ranked seventy-sixth on the Dramon Assassins List! Ordinary people couldn't even dream of hiring someone of his caliber, let alone know about the existence of such a list.