Omniversal Travel

In the captain's cabin, Viltz rummaged around for a while until he found a safe.

Casting a spell on the lock, he opened the safe, revealing a rather large amount of gold coins and jewelry.

Viltz wasted no time and stuffed them all into his bag.

After checking some more, he found nothing.

Leaving the ship, Viltz summoned a large fireball and sent it into the ship, causing it to start burning.

He then walked over to the central monolith and watched the dagger floating quietly inside for a while before walking away.

He returned to the shore of the lake, where the zombie he had created earlier was waiting for him next to a mountain of corpses.

"Let's get started!" Viltz clapped his hands and began to conjure his spell.

A hand suddenly moved among the corpses.

One by one, the corpses were reanimated and began to line up in a straight row.

"Okay, follow me."

Viltz turned around and opened a portal through which he ushered the 50+ corpses in, reappearing in the catacombs.

Looking at the pile of corpses in front of him, Viltz handed them picks, shovels and buckets and ordered them, "I want you to go down to the bottom of these stairs and start digging a room, when you get the dirt piled up, you can fill it into these buckets and haul it up to the top, where you can dump it off the cliff."

As he finished explaining, he snapped his fingers, causing the floor to open up, revealing the spiral stairs below.

The zombies began to descend the stairs in an orderly fashion one by one.

Viltz nodded with satisfaction and left them alone. He had more important things to do and wasn't going to waste his time supervising them.

Entering his room, he changed his clothes, putting on a high quality black medieval suit along with brown leather boots.

After sprucing up a bit, he opened a portal and teleported to another location.

On the other side of the portal, he encountered a rather peculiar sight.

A little girl of about five was standing on tiptoe as she scribbled on the face of a disheveled looking young woman.

Seeing Margarita's appearance, Viltz couldn't help but laugh.

The girls looked in her direction in unison and their expressions couldn't have been more contrasting.

While Lena had a proud smile on her face as she pointed to the lipstick on her hand, Rita looked like she was going to cry at any moment.

"Looks like you two are having quite a good time?" she asked.

"Sister Rita asked me to help her with her makeup. How does it look? It looks good on her doesn't it!" Lena asked with a beaming smile that made Rita not know whether to laugh or cry.

"You seem to have a great talent for this, I think your sister Rita will love it if you keep doing her makeup. Haha!"

"You!" Rita shot him a menacing look and Viltz just laughed in response.

"Anyway, you guys need to get ready to go to the restaurant now."

"I almost forgot our date was today!" Rita exclaimed in surprise but with her hair disheveled and her face full of doodles she looked quite comical.

"Good! You wait here, in half an hour we'll be ready."

Viltz shrugged and grabbed a random book off the shelf and sat down to read it.

Half an hour later, Rita came out in a tight black dress along with Lena, who was wearing a nice blue dress.

"A little more and I'm asleep." Viltz yawned and got up from her seat.

Rita rolled her eyes and opened a doorway through which they all walked through together.

"My stomach hurts." Lena clutched her stomach and grimaced.

"At least you didn't throw up, that's something to be proud of! I know a guy with white hair who always ends up with an upset stomach! Haha!" Viltz laughed and held out a hand to Rita while grabbing Lena's little hand with the other.

The three of them entered a luxurious restaurant, where they sat at a large terrace filled with other tables.

From the terrace they could see the large city square that was currently crowded with people.

Three large wooden tubs were placed in the center, filled with grapes that a few scantily clad young women crushed with their feet as they danced to the rhythm of the bards.

The people around them shouted and cheered enthusiastically as the young women swayed their hips.

"It looks pretty lively out there, not like here." Rita commented as she glanced sideways at the people seated at the other tables on the terrace.

"It's pretty normal, not everyone likes to mingle in a sweaty crowd that won't stop pushing and shoving and yelling in their ear."

Viltz recalled some of the live concerts he attended in his past life and his face scrunched up.

"My lord." A well-dressed waiter offered Viltz a cork to smell.

Viltz sniffed it a bit and nodded with satisfaction.

"An intoxicating aroma..."

The waiter smiled and explained as he picked up the cork.

"It is a wine produced during the celebration of the Belletheyn wine festival 50 years ago, we only serve this kind of wine during this celebration."

"You can pour us two glasses,as for the small one? What would you like to drink?"

"I want orange juice." Lena spoke as she watched the spectacle unfold outside the restaurant.

The waiter poured them two glasses of wine before fetching orange juice.

Viltz took a sip of his wine and continued chatting with Rita throughout the evening until the festival was over and the people at the plate dispersed.

Looking down at the sleeping Lena drooling on the jacket he used to cover her, Viltz sighed and wiped it off a bit before carrying the girl in his arms as Rita teased him.

"Well, you can laugh now but we'll see if you'll still be in that giggly mood at night."

Viltz leaned close to Rita's ear and whispered those words, making her turn as red as a beet.

"You... You shouldn't say such things in a place like this." Rita smacked his chest and scolded him in a low voice.

"Let's go upstairs, I've got two rooms rented there."

Viltz pulled out a pair of keys and smiled at Rita, causing her to blush even more and lower her head in embarrassment.

"Haha! Next time don't try to make fun of me, I'm very spiteful."

Viltz grabbed Rita's hand and went upstairs.

Unlike other restaurants, this one functioned as a fancy restaurant and hotel, so he didn't have to look for another place to spend the night.

...

On a mountain in a distant place, standing in front of a tree full of wolf-shaped medallions stood a middle-aged man talking to a group of young men.

"Well boys! As of today you are witches in every right!"

The middle-aged man looked at the group of young men with beastly eyes and put a necklace around each of their necks.

The necklaces were silver and shaped like the head of a wolf, each with a different design.

"Well, they look good on you!" The middle-aged man smiled and rubbed his chin.

"Hmmm, I had a great idea! Why don't you choose your last names?"

"Last names? What for?" one of the young men asked with a dubious look.

"If you have last names, the clients who are going to hire your services might trust you more." Explained the middle-aged man.

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would anyone trust a stranger more just because of their last name?"

"Stop asking so many questions! Who is the experienced one here you or me?" the middle-aged man slapped the forehead of the young man who spoke and urged them to choose their last names.

"Got it!" A young white-haired man exclaimed with a serious look on his face.

"My name will be Geralt Roger Eric Du Haute Bellegarde! How do you like that last name Vesemir?"

The middle-aged Vesemir looked at him like he was an idiot and burst out laughing along with his other companions.

"I never took you for a joker, Geralt. Where's your usual grumpy character?"

One of his companions wiped tears from his eyes and patted Geralt's shoulder.

"Geralt Roger Belle... Belle what? How could you come up with such a lousy last name?"

Vesemir stopped laughing and contemplated the boy for a while before saying, "Since you're so lousy at this, then let me pick a last name for you."

He rubbed his chin for a while before his gaze fell on a map spread out on a table.

Vesemir ran his eyes over the map for a while before his gaze fell on a few spots on the map.

Vesemir wrote a series of names on a few sticks before grabbing them all in one hand and asking Geralt to pick one.

Geralt hesitated for a moment before reaching out and pulling out a stick.

"Rivia..." Geralt read what was written on the stick aloud.

"Well, it has been decided by fate! Your name shall be Geralt of Rivia!"

Geralt looked at Vesemir in confusion, not knowing why the supposed fate would choose Rivia as his last name since as far as he knew it had nothing to do with such a place, but since the one who decided his last name was this man whom he respected too much to say no to, in the end he could only shake his head and accept his new last name.

"Here's to Geralt of Rivia!"

"To Geralt of Rivia!"

"Now it's your turn boys!"

Vessemir looked at the others and clapped his hands.

"I'd better pass."

"I've got something to do."

"My stomach hurts."

"I have diarrhea!"

Vesemir could only shake his head helplessly at the behavior of these young men.

"Rivia..." Geralt muttered to himself before taking a swig of his ale.

And so, the gears of fate began to turn. What was originally just a randomly given surname would end up leading the young warlock to not only take as his own the way of speaking of such a place but also end up involving him in events that would turn his surname into something more than just an empty nickname.