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Chapter 583 - 583. The Witcher's Journal Absorbs Ancient Power! A Letter from Francesca!

The messenger bird lightly landed on his fingertip.

Under Mary's sharp gaze, Allen's hand froze for a moment as he held the bird, half-explaining to himself: "This should be a letter from Ida Emean."

In reality, it was from Francesca Findabair.

For some reason, when Mary was watching, the name he said changed as the words left his mouth.

The messenger birds are a pair of alchemical tools that, once bonded to their masters, act as mutual coordinates.

They can locate the other bird and also the users bonded to them.

Allen had originally given a messenger bird to Ida Emean, so the one on his fingertip naturally belonged to Mary.

Not long after returning from the Wild Hunt chasing the "Dream Mirror" of the Ancient Blood, he had taken the bird from Mary. So there was no need for further explanation; it had been made clear when borrowing the bird.

Yet for some reason, under Mary's piercing gaze, Allen felt it was a bit awkward.

It was as if he were using his current girlfriend's phone to take a call from an ex…

What a mess… Allen shook his head lightly; after all, he was completely innocent with both Francesca and Mary.

Returning to Francesca.

In fact, she had already sent a letter a couple of days ago…

The excitement of receiving the messenger bird, the awkward atmosphere with Sadia and Simlas Finn aep Dabairr in the Camp…

And, of course, the war, though it took up only a small portion of the message.

Initially, Ban Ard came with a tremendous force, tens of thousands of soldiers, like a human tide filling the Blue Mountains, where the Free Elves resided among the undulating peaks.

The Free Elves were startled and quickly recalled all their Aen Seidhe outside forces.

Francesca Findabair, after signing the contract, hurried back to prepare for the upcoming war.

It wasn't that Francesca herself was essential to the war, but her two bodyguards were generals in the Free Elf guerrilla forces.

Yet after enduring trials of blood and fire, the Free Elves realized that the supposedly overwhelming army wasn't a tidal wave of destruction—it was more like patches of swampy mud.

There were many soldiers, but they were largely ineffective.

Most of the troops had been hastily assembled, many of them Ban Ard's fleeing soldiers, and they collapsed under the Free Elves' ambushes.

At first, they could muster some courage and push the front lines.

But as the war progressed and the front lines drew closer to the Free Elves' camps, traps and relentless attacks increased.

The makeshift army, untrained and ill-prepared, collapsed repeatedly, incapable of holding ground.

Of course, the war still had some impact.

The Aen Seidhe alchemists, originally sent to construct permanent teleportation gates, had to delay their arrival.

However, in her previous letter, Francesca had mentioned that once the war had reached a pause, she would immediately send someone again.

"Three days have passed… perhaps the war has finally quieted down."

Allen raised his right hand, letting the crystal bird's beak rest against his forehead.

[Once those long-eared ones are dealt with, it will be the turn of the freaks.]

As the bird's beak hovered a finger-width from his forehead, for some unknown reason, Allen's mind suddenly filled with the image of Sunny's grim expression.

A strange sense of foreboding surged through him. His movement froze as his forehead touched the bird's beak.

"Hmph."

Through the True-Knowledge Eye, the daily life of the rock giants—one smashing the other's head against stone—was still being broadcast in real time.

Mary stole a glance at Allen, who had closed his eyes, and her small, delicate nose twitched as she made an ambiguous little sound.

A pure witcher cannot deceive a shrewd mage lady.

Her treasured book had a section titled: "Ten subtle gestures that reveal when a man is lying, without using magic."

The very first point: "Unnecessary explanations."

"That's definitely not Ida Emean," Mary thought, her innate vigilance radar immediately picking up an image in Allen's mind.

A gray-green elven gown trimmed with lace, an elven mage whose poise and elegance exceeded even that of a princess—Francesca Findabair.

But…

Would Allen really send his messenger bird to that elven witch Francesca Findabair?

Uncertain… better watch.

Mary furrowed her brows and carefully studied the witcher's expression, hoping to read his mind from the handsome, captivating face that could make one feel both love and exasperation.

The witcher's face remained expressionless.

Unable to read him, Mary's gaze gradually softened, tracing along his high nose, his furrowed brow… and finally, almost unconsciously, resting on his pressed lips…

Then…

Her eyes suddenly met a pair of startling, sapphire cat-like pupils, jolting her awake.

"Allen… I…"

But the witcher paid no attention to Mary's surprise. As he opened his eyes, his expression instantly darkened, and he leapt up, sprinting toward Kaer Morhen.

"Mary, help me clean up the ritual."

Leaving behind a single sentence, soon scattered by the mountain wind, Mary's eyes watched as Allen's figure disappeared.

-----------------------------------

[Allen, the mages of Ban Ard are insane!]

[They actually dared to use profane rituals, desecrating the souls of the dead!]

[No distinction between the aen seidhe, humans, beasts, or monsters… the corpses of the fallen surged across the mountains, devouring everything still alive.]

[Although the tide of corpses was controlled by treacherous human mages, making it extremely tricky, what's even worse was that hordes of spectral monsters suddenly appeared, carrying eerie green lanterns, causing our defenses to collapse step by step…]

[Our kin lying in ambush in the forest were caught off guard and died. Sally—my maid—cried all day long.]

[Her father and brother were in the guerrilla unit and died unprepared in the jaws of the suddenly revived corpses. Their comrades barely retrieved their mutilated bodies, only to succumb to infection and die in the camp.]

[But this was only the beginning. Those vile humans, not only using desecrating rituals and spells, even poisoned the rivers.]

[Every day someone in the camp contracted the plague, every day someone died. I could hear the cries from outside the cave, from day to night, without pause.]

[Father, mother, and Lady Ida Emean finally managed to find the antidote to restrain the plague, but the human army pressed on.]

[Those desecrated corpses were almost able to track the living, heading toward the Free Elves' camp.]

[Fear ran rampant in the camp. Many said that the bloodline of the aen seidhe would soon be wiped from this world. Father and mother ordered the spread of rumors to be banned, but it was hard to stop.]

[Allen, do the aen seidhe really have no right to exist in this world?]

[Why do humans insist on extermination?]

[By the way, Allen, Lady Ida Emean told me that you have a potion capable of rapidly annihilating the spectral monsters. Can you sell it to the Free Elves?]

[We can trade the recipe, spells, materials, treasures… anything!]

[Note: Mother and Ida Emean may request your help under the alliance's agreement to clear monsters! But don't agree, Allen! The mages of Ban Ard have already sealed all portals and access to the Free Elves' camp.]

The message delivered by the messenger bird was laden with emotion, but Allen could hear Francesca Findabair's extreme panic and fear in her voice.

"Such fools!" Allen sprinted toward Kaer Morhen. "Even if I handed over the Specter Oil recipe now, what good would it do? The spectral monsters and corpses are almost at the gates. There's no time to brew anything!"

Although he muttered to himself, Allen still took another messenger bird from his chest, quickly stored the Specter Oil recipe inside it, and released it.

After finishing these actions, he continued on his way, and soon the gates of Kaer Morhen appeared in his sight. However, he was stopped by two apprentices.

Each held a magical tool shaped like a fierce wolf's head, almost identical to the insignia of their school.

"Captain!"

One of the apprentices, seeing Allen's anxious expression, tried to stop his companion and let Allen pass.

Allen, however, refused outright.

These tools had been forged under Lady Vera's supervision after his return. The inspiration partly came from the city defense mechanisms he had seen in Vergen during his last descent, and partly from Philippa Eilhart.

A female mage transforming into an owl could pass through Kaer Morhen unnoticed.

Philippa Eilhart being a familiar face was fine, but what if it were a stranger—hostile, skilled in illusions and disguise, and a male sorcerer? That would be terrifying.

But now it seemed that although the idea was good, there were still some practical issues.

"Next time, don't just let someone pass because you recognize their face. Mages skilled in illusion and transformation are excellent at disguises. Every entrant must be checked," Allen instructed the two naive apprentices after they had examined him.

The two apprentices nodded blankly, but Allen knew they certainly wouldn't remember it.

[Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization has always been clamoring to deploy those uncontrollable war beasts on the battlefield, right?]

[Send them all to Kaer Morhen, let our freaks warm up.]

"We're in real danger now…" Allen thought again of the prophecy, tempted to say more, but he decided against it.

The gatekeeping duties at Kaer Morhen rotated, so warning just these two apprentices meant nothing.

"It's fine, just be more careful next time."

Seeing that the two apprentices looked uneasy, Allen gently patted their shoulders and walked straight into Kaer Morhen.

The two apprentices stared after Allen, exchanging glances: "C-Cale… did we do something wrong?"

"P-Probably, right?"

"Can we still join the Witcher Corps?"

"Judging by the captain's expression… it should be… fine, I guess?"

-----------------------------------

Allen didn't pay much attention to the voices of the two apprentices not far behind as he walked on.

Nowadays, the Witcher Corps was strict about new recruits; passing the mountain trials no longer guaranteed entry. The ten out of twenty-five slots for the fourth-tier [Members: 10/25] were currently being filled through duels organized by Aristo.

Allen had only suggested a simple selection process and didn't participate directly, but the results should come out within the next couple of days.

By then, all the fourth-tier members of the Witcher Corps would be filled.

As he passed through the outer city, bright sunlight broke through the clouds and streamed down.

Allen, having been momentarily distracted, felt his mind gradually calm.

He couldn't rush—impatience would only make things worse.

Most of the specter-type monsters weren't particularly strong. The problem was that a silver sword alone couldn't kill them quickly, and their frightening appearances easily caused panic.

Now that the specter Oil recipe had been sent out, it was unlikely the Free Elves could mass-produce it, but given its simple preparation and common materials, it should still help a lot.

At the very least, just having the recipe would boost morale.

In a war, morale was crucial.

"First, the Free Elves must be saved."

Allen walked along Kaer Morhen's main road, deep in thought.

Not only because of Francesca's presence.

Francesca was destined to be the future leader of all Aen Seidhe in legal terms, with exceptional magical talent, making her extremely important to him and the Wolf School. But at present, Francesca Fendabe's talent and influence had not yet manifested.

However, the conversation Allen had seen in the prophecy between Sunny and his subordinates made the meaning very clear…

Once the Free Elves were wiped out, they would launch a massive attack on Kaer Morhen.

The Free Elves were essentially a target in front of the Wolf School; their survival was directly tied to the Wolf School's fate.

"What should I do?" Allen pondered. "Unclean rituals… desecration of the dead… Ban Ard must be using necromancy, which is strictly forbidden by the Sorcerer Brotherhood…"

"I could go to Tissaia de Vries… she wouldn't ignore it, but…"

Allen shook his head slightly.

By the time the Sorcerer Brotherhood processed the matter, submitted proposals, and sent someone to investigate, the Free Elves would probably already be wiped out.

Moreover, Ban Ard and Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization were both important members of the Sorcerer Brotherhood.

Could one really investigate oneself and uncover the truth?

Not to mention that the establishment of the Sorcerer Kingdom itself was forbidden, yet Ban Ard and Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization still proceeded.

Among the famous sorcerers and magical organizations of the Brotherhood, it seemed that only Tissaia de Vries was actively taking action.

But no matter how focused she was on maintaining order, she couldn't intervene in the rescue of Hen Gedymdeith.

After all, the Free Elves were just elves; in any human organization—even one that didn't discriminate against elves—their influence was minimal.

Allen looked up, gazing at the towering Blue Mountains in the distance, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Then… I can only rely on myself!"

"But…"

Allen furrowed his brows and pushed open the small door of the north tower, preparing to climb the stairs.

"Even with an army of ten thousand, composed of Ban Ard and Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization forces—even if just remnants and peasants—the power of the Wolf School would be like an insect trying to stop a chariot."

And it wasn't only ten thousand troops. If one counted the necromantic army Ban Ard had summoned in violation of the Sorcerer Brotherhood's rules, plus the potential monsters sent by Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization…

The total strength could easily double, if not more.

"Moreover, I can't drag the school into the whirlpool of war just to save the Free Elves…"

Allen furrowed his brow in thought.

Suddenly.

"Ding!"

A familiar system notification sound rang in his ear, interrupting him.

Allen froze for a moment, then focused his mind.

[Ding! The absorption of Ancient Power is complete…]

.....

(A/N: Happy Diwali! May your life be filled with lights, joy, and endless prosperity. May this festival of lights bring happiness to you and your loved ones!)

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