"Bang!"
A tightly clenched fist slammed heavily on the light-brown walnut table with swirling grain.
The beer mug on the table jumped, splashing liquid that spilled onto the sleeve.
The expensive silk fabric instantly darkened in a large patch.
"Why did so many die?" The veins on Sunny's forehead bulged. "Ten thousand soldiers, just to fight a group of long-ears that had already declined, barely surviving in the deep mountains and forests. Why have two thousand died already, and still we haven't even found where the long-ears are hiding?!!"
"Are all the commanders of Ban Ard useless trash?"
Below Sunny sat a noble knight in half-armor, still showing off the ruby necklace on his chest.
Hearing Sunny's furious rebuke, he quickly put down his cup and explained: "Lord S… Sunny, the actual casualties in battle were three hundred. The others either twisted ankles on the terrain, or left the battlefield, deser—"
"Left the battlefield? Just deserters!" Sunny sneered. "Two thousand soldiers, three to four hundred dead or wounded, and more than a thousand ran away. Is that something to be proud of?"
Cold sweat appeared on the noble knight's forehead. He pulled a pure white silk handkerchief from his waist to wipe the sweat while signaling with his eyes to the others at the table.
"Lord Sunny," opposite the knight, a man in black satin, looking like a merchant, sighed softly and tried to mediate. "Count Cassius may have some faults, but the long-ears were driven into the deep mountains many years ago."
"They are more familiar with the terrain of the Blue Mountains than we are."
"They often use the night, the terrain, and the weather to harass the camps. If morale drops a little, it may not necessarily be the commander's fault…"
"Yes, yes," the Count Cassius hurried to agree, overjoyed at the support. "Those long-ears are too cunning, like rabbits in the fields, sly and nimble. If you don't pay attention, they gnaw at the roots of the wheat."
"But rabbits are still only rabbits. Once our army gets familiar with the terrain, we will surely clear them out quickly."
Tok Tok Tok~
Sunny tapped the table with a gold ring set with black opal, staring coldly at Cassius.
The oppressive presence made Cassius feel as if he was being stared at by a starving wolf.
What was being struck was not the table, but his heart.
More cold sweat broke out.
He dared not move and could only wait for judgment.
In this new city of Ban Ard, many nobles who had lost their lands and most of their armies, unable to recognize their situation, had recently died for unknown reasons.
A count was nothing. Among those who died miserably and bloodily were even marquises and dukes.
"I want a deadline." Sunny stopped tapping. "When can those long-ears be found? When can their caves be destroyed, and those long-ears, who should have gone to hell long ago, be exterminated?"
"Two months," Cassius said quickly, but seeing Sunny's frown, he immediately corrected himself. "No… no… one month… within a week I will definitely find the rabbits' caves."
"Within one month, completely wipe out all the long-ears."
"Hmph~" Sunny snorted, picked up his cup, and took a sip.
Cassius let out a sigh of relief. "Then I will go now to urge those lazy peasants…"
"First send the captured long-ears to Master Ortolan," Sunny waved to interrupt.
"I… I, yes, I will send people—"
"No." Sunny shook his finger, pointing at Cassius's face. "You, go personally!"
Cassius's face changed drastically, but he did not dare refuse. After shifting uncomfortably in his chair for a while, his expression turning many times, he finally slumped back into the high-backed chair. "Yes, Lord Sunny."
"Go. You all go too. Brun stays." Sunny waved his hand.
The people around the walnut table all stood up. After bowing to Sunny, they left the room one by one.
Bang~
The heavy wooden door closed softly.
"Lord Sunny, the allied army against the elves is mostly made up of defeated soldiers from the front lines. A temporary setback is normal," said Brun, the man in black satin who looked like a merchant, in a low voice. "In just a few days, out of ten thousand men, only two thousand were killed, wounded, or fled. That already exceeded my expectations."
Sunny swirled his wine cup and sneered: "Of course. Compared to the money they earn from embezzling military pay and secretly selling supplies, the nobles clearly care more about their own lives."
"But it's not enough."
He shook his head, and a gloomy light flashed in his eyes: "A bunch of beaten dogs, and yet they still dare to stir up trouble inside my army. They must think they can treat me the same way they treated that puppet king."
Brun said nothing.
After all, Ban Ard had no real army. Every soldier was either seized from surrounding villages or defeated stragglers who had taken refuge with the nobles.
Of course, the latter outnumbered the former by a ridiculous ratio of ten to one.
That disaster which fell from the sky a few months ago had gravely wounded Ban Ard's strength. Several villages around it had been wiped out entirely.
The beggars, vagrants, and criminals reluctantly resettled here from other countries were nowhere near enough to fill the void.
Later, when word spread that the kingdom of sorcerers had been established, even that stopped completely.
A disaster on top of disaster.
So, by the rules common across the Northern Continent — or rather, in essence — none of the armies truly belonged to Ban Ard. They all belonged to those exiled nobles who had fled here.
Of course, Sunny would never say that aloud.
"The nobles have been much more obedient lately. That earlier warning worked well," Brun said with praise, then changed the subject. "But with Count Cassius's ability, to find the elves' nest in seven days, and wipe out all the free elves within a month…"
"They cannot do it." Brun shook his head slightly, without emotion.
Sunny frowned, draining the wine in his cup in one gulp. "Cassius is already the most suitable choice among all the exiled nobles. The others are even worse. With this kind of human refuse, no wonder Kaedwen collapsed so quickly and strangely."
"But we have no choice but to use them." Brun lifted the wine jug elegantly, like a true servant, and refilled Sunny's empty cup.
"Yes, no choice but to use them…" Sunny sighed. After another sip, he fell into thoughtful silence.
Brun did not interrupt, sitting quietly in his place.
Rain struck against the windowpanes, and a strange, mournful wind howled outside.
The sudden change in weather startled Sunny. He lifted his head, thinking he had heard the hoarse caw of ravens and crows — but it was only the wind.
The wind, and the rain.
"Have the Ban Ard ritualists gone with the army?" Sunny suddenly asked, without context.
Brun pulled his gaze back from the downpour outside, stunned for a moment, then nodded instinctively. "A small squad of ten, mainly responsible for camp security, and for handling and preserving drinking water and rations."
"Don't let them waste time on beans and campfires. The forest is the long-ears' domain. The free elves will always know ritual better than our men."
Sunny paused, then took a deep breath. "Let them act freely."
"Act freely?" Brun thought he had misheard.
Ordinary people who didn't understand magic usually imagined Ban Ard ritualists as learned old men, responsible for maintaining the city's magical barriers, wards, and defensive rituals.
But it was not so. Or rather — not only that.
Although Brun had abandoned the path of magic after graduating from Ban Ard due to his lack of talent, his time studying there had revealed to him many hidden secrets of magic.
The essence of ritual was to use astronomy, magical materials, numbers, and symbols to surpass the limits of the ritualist, prying at the natural magic of an environment that even sorcerers could not fully control.
Arranging magical defense barriers, purification rites, divination — all these belonged to the field of ritual.
But also belonging to ritual were the making of golems, necromancy, and demon-summoning.
In ancient times, demon-summoning had been the most zealous and orthodox field of study for ritualists.
At their core, ritualists who sought to wield power beyond their own control were all madmen.
And since the ritualists of Ban Ard were the finest in all the Northern Continent, they were also the most mad.
"Yes. Act freely," Sunny confirmed. "Haven't they always complained that there was nowhere in the Academy to experiment with rituals?"
"Now they have the chance. Let them perform well. Don't disappoint me."
He was serious… Brun looked into Sunny's cold eyes. The sudden downpour had lowered the room's temperature sharply, filling it with biting chill.
"B-but… but…" Whatever image had come to his mind, Brun's teeth chattered uncontrollably.
Sunny, however, only looked at him calmly, waiting for him to speak.
But Brun felt certain Sunny already knew what he was about to say. Even so, after taking a deep breath and calming the fear in his heart, he had no choice but to speak.
"But this is forbidden, Lord Sunny," Brun said. "If… if the Brotherhood of Sorcerers' patrol catches us, we'll all be sent to the pyre and burned alive."
"Forbidden…" Sunny curled his lip in disdain. "Tell me, Brun—Ortolan's research at Ban Ard, and why the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization keeps pressing us to capture elves—are those not forbidden acts?"
Brun, dragged into bitter memories by Sunny's words, fought the sudden nausea in his stomach. He faltered, speechless: "But… but…"
Sunny waved him off, cutting him short. "Don't forget, the Brotherhood of Sorcerers isn't a single organization—it's an alliance of them all."
"Ban Ard and Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization make up the largest part of the Brotherhood. We are the Brotherhood."
"It's what we say is forbidden—that is what will be forbidden."
Brun was shaken to the core, his lips parting to speak, but Sunny interrupted again.
Setting down his wine cup, Sunny said coldly, "And won't you have the Ritual Department keep things discreet?"
"What happens deep in the Blue Mountains, to a free elf—on this continent, no one will bother to care."
"Brun, Ban Ard is racing against time…"
"We are racing against time."
Brun froze, his throat dry, then nodded: "I understand. I'll get the word to them."
Sunny nodded with satisfaction, raised his wine cup, and was about to offer a few more reassuring words, when he suddenly remembered something.
"Have you found out about that Witcher from the School of the Wolf?"
"It's been found out," Brun replied at once, already prepared. He picked up the parchment lying on the table to hand it over, but Sunny waved it aside.
"Just tell me. Are those things true?" Sunny asked, curious.
"Most of them are true, only a bit exaggerated," Brun explained. "The word from Aretuza is that the so-called Godslayer didn't truly slay some evil god, but used certain methods to disrupt the summoning ritual of one."
"And at that time, Lady Tissaia de Vries with a number of sorceresses from Aretuza, Priestess Ianna of the Melitele Temple with her clerics, and the army of Ellander bore the brunt of the undead horde that the ritual unleashed."
"Vesemir of the Wolf School was fighting in the same sector as Allen…"
"So it's false?" At the mention of Vesemir, Sunny frowned, as if something foul had crossed his mind. "That freak Vesemir drove off the evil god, yet the credit went to that apprentice?"
"No," Brun chose his words carefully, saying each one slowly, "the witnesses who gave the account said it was Allen himself who struck—but his methods were unlike any Witcher's."
"Our people suspect it was some devastating ancient bomb or magical artifact provided by Tissaia de Vries or Ianna."
"And the griffin?" Sunny asked after a pause, his face unreadable.
"The griffin is real, and it really belongs to Allen. Our people suspect it's the same griffin that attacked Vengerberg months ago, but King Demavend II denied ever hiring a Witcher to deal with it."
Seeing Sunny remain silent, Brun continued after a moment's hesitation: "The knights of Ellander are real too. That was because, during the May Festival, after the Wild Hunt raided Ellander, Allen, Vesemir, and Vera intercepted the wraiths of Falka's rebels."
"The youngest Witcher master…"
"He earned that at Ban Ard, didn't he?" Sunny narrowed his eyes, recalling the scene months earlier after he'd rushed back from Aretuza.
Back then, standing behind Hen Gedymdeith, he hadn't paid much attention to any Witchers other than Sol and Vesemir. His memory of the rest was hazy.
Who would have thought that a mere fledgling Witcher could make such waves in so short a time.
"Yes," Brun confirmed. "At Ban Ard, Allen slew the Ice King (T/N: Sorcerers don't have appraisal so Ice King = Drowner King ), a massive monster brought forth by the Conjunction of the Spheres. The Ice King was a high-level creature, so…"
Sunny drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the walnut table, cutting him off.
Brun waited quietly.
After a while, Sunny suddenly stopped tapping. "Where are Vesemir and Allen now?"
"Ellander's scouts report they've both returned to Kaer Morhen," Brun added, "because Duke Donato Rogrides' arrangements in Redania have borne fruit."
"Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization lost Ronny Dickinson. Redania lost a baron."
"They had no choice but to return to handle the aftermath."
"They do manage to be useful now and then." Sunny sneered, shaking his head. "But this is actually a good opportunity…"
"Hasn't Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization been clamoring to unleash their uncontrollable war beasts on the battlefield?"
"Let them send them all to Kaer Morhen. It'll be good warm-up for our freaks."
"The Wolf School's master and grandmaster have even greater experimental value than those long-eared elves, don't they?"
A cold glint flickered in Sunny's eyes. "Once the elves are dealt with, it will be the freaks' turn."
"And also…"
"Find Lado as quickly as possible. A living man cannot simply vanish."
"Yes." Brun bowed his head in assent. Seeing that Sunny had no further orders, he saluted and slowly backed out of the room.
Once the room was empty, Sunny rose from his seat and walked to the window.
The gale howled outside, and the shutters banged ceaselessly against the castle walls.
Rain lashed the leaden window frames in a frenzied staccato, soaking the hem of his robes.
Sunny, however, remained utterly unaware.
To him, the storm was still not fierce enough, not wild enough.
........
📢Advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: [email protected]/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
1. 20 advanced chapters of The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes.
2. 30 advanced chapters of What year is this? You're still writing a traditional diary?.