Shaquiel felt that he and Valeriu were being strangely ignored.
But of course, they did not remind anyone—it wasn't the time to flaunt themselves. After exchanging a glance, the two of them hid themselves deeply in shadows of Kaer Morhen.
Under the watchful eyes of Tissaia de Vries, Vera, and Sol, escape was impossible, even if they appeared to be ignored.
But avoiding provoking the Wolf School witchers' anger and impulsiveness right after the war beast had destroyed half of Kaer Morhen's wall was still absolutely necessary.
After all—
Although they had brought the war beast, and the war beast had caused destruction, since no one was injured, everything was still negotiable.
What they feared most was that the war beast had created some unsalvageable blood feud, and if the Wolf School witchers couldn't find Sunny and Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization for revenge, they might vent their anger on them instead.
Besides…
Shaquiel quietly glanced at Hen Gedymdeith, glowing faintly with blue light on the ground. His thoughts spun wildly, but without realizing it, he felt a bit more confident about surviving.
As for Ban Ard Academy—now that both the previous and current deans had survived—what would become of Ban Ard, the Sorcerer Kingdom, the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, and the Northern Continent?
That was not something prisoners should be thinking about.
Time passed second by second.
The massive commotion caused by the war beast's descent had made many small heads pop up above the outer wall of the barbican, peeking in curiosity at the bloodshed inside.
But because of the strange atmosphere, after exchanging uneasy looks, no one dared enter the barbican.
Tissaia de Vries, Sol, Vera, Aristo, Vesemir, Vilgefortz, and the others stood inside the barbican as if they had fallen asleep, or as if they were silently waiting—forming a strange, delicate balance.
"We're waiting for Allen, aren't we?"
Mary finally couldn't help speaking, breaking the silence.
"Why don't we just go to Ban Ard to find him? Allen can't even use portals yet, and the royal griffin is still incubating its egg…"
This was indeed true.
If they were waiting for Allen, they shouldn't be standing around here—they should be sending someone to fetch him from Ban Ard.
But were they really waiting for Allen?
Of course not.
They were only deadlocked.
Everyone inside the barbican was among the smartest in the world, and naturally they all knew that everything would be resolved easily once Allen was found. But the real problem was lack of trust.
Ban Ard was large, and there were two key factors needed to find Allen—a portal, and Vilgefortz.
Excluding Shaquiel, among the sorcerers present, only Tissaia de Vries and Vera could open a stable portal.
And to find Allen within the vast Ban Ard, Vilgefortz was practically indispensable—only he knew what had happened and could guess where Allen might be hiding. However, because of his secrecy, no one in Kaer Morhen could trust him.
Aristo and Danthe even felt that it had been this sorcerer's plot from the start—Allen covering the rear and sacrificing himself so they could escape.
Selfish, despicable, greedy, treacherous… this fit perfectly with how Ban Ard male sorcerers were seen by witchers.
Inside Kaer Morhen, they could at least keep an eye on him.
But once they started traveling through portals—no matter if Vera cast them—people would have to leave one by one. Accidents could happen.
And since Tissaia de Vries only cared about securing Hen Gedymdeith, due to the deep-rooted mistrust between sorcerers and witchers, they would have to leave enough fighters behind in Kaer Morhen.
Considering Hen Gedymdeith's uncertain condition, even more people would need to stay.
Layer upon layer of doubts, interests tangled like a mess of threads.
Even the simplest issue had become troublesome, trapping everyone—including Tissaia de Vries—inside this stinking barbican.
So even though Mary had naïvely exposed everything, the atmosphere inside the barbican did not change much.
And as for the core of all these considerations—
Vilgefortz wasn't even thinking that far ahead.
When he had summoned the portal to escape earlier, the Child of Miracles had clearly held the advantage. And with a black dragon as his mount, Vilgefortz didn't believe the Child of Miracles would be much slower than him.
But as time went on, Vilgefortz couldn't help growing anxious.
Battles between the extraordinary often began without warning and ended just as quickly. Judging by the distance between Kaer Morhen and Kaedwen, the Child of Miracles should have arrived by now.
Could something have happened?
Vilgefortz glanced at Tissaia de Vries blocking in front of him, and then at Mary, who looked resentful and uneasy.
"…Perhaps Lady Margarita is correct. Maybe we should go to Ban Ard and search for Allen…"
Everyone turned their doubtful, unfriendly gazes toward him.
But even Aristo—the most hot-tempered of them—did not speak; he merely stared coldly at Vilgefortz, waiting for his next words.
"I know what you are all worried about, so…"
Under everyone's gaze, Vilgefortz walked to Hen Gedymdeith and crouched down. His movements paused slightly when the dimeritium shackles brushed his body.
"Isn't it a bit much to ask a sorcerer to put dimeritium shackles on himself?"
"May I ask one of you gentlemen to help me?"
Vilgefortz turned his head with a bitter smile.
"Vigo—" Lydia van Bredevoort's expression changed. She rushed forward to stop him. But Vilgefortz gave her a look, and she stopped, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.
"You are not a criminal, Vilgefortz." Tissaia de Vries frowned deeply, stepping in front of him and casting an unhappy look at the Wolf School witchers.
"You are a hero of the Northern Continent—just as Allen is. But a hero should not suffer humiliation and pain for another hero. You do not need to—"
"This is the only way…"Vilgefortz shook his head firmly, interrupting her. "And Allen might be facing serious trouble. He needs us…"
The barbican fell silent for a moment.
Aristo approached expressionlessly, walking toward Vilgefortz.
As he passed Tissaia de Vries, the strongest female mage in the North shot him a hostile look, then looked back at Lydia van Bredevoort.
Finally, her eyes fell on Vilgefortz: "As long as I still live, Aretuza will always be your support."
She made a solemn promise, then stepped aside to open a path.
Aristo walked past Tissaia de Vries, crouched down to pick up the dimeritium shackles, but did not immediately clasp them onto the hands Vilgefortz had extended. Instead, with equal solemnity, he said: "If Allen is unharmed, I will apologize to you. And also—"
"The Wolf School will compensate you for our disrespect," Sol interrupted Aristo, then glanced at Tissaia de Vries. "Although the Wolf School can't be anyone's backing right now, from today onward—you will always be a friend of the Wolf School."
"There's no need for that. Allen and I are already close friends. I understand your misunderstanding…" Vilgefortz gave a gentle smile, bringing his hands together and raising them slightly. "Come—Allen is still waiting for us…"
Aristo silently held the dimeritium shackles and looked deeply at him.
Crack~
The moment the shackles locked around Vilgefortz's wrists, the blue vein-like patterns on them suddenly lit up, as if the entire shackle had been filled with mana from a magic source and was about to burst.
But immediately afterward, the blue cracks dimmed, and the veins near the shackles bulged and blackened like they had been poisoned, spreading into what looked like a web of black lines.
"Ugh!"
A suppressed cry of pain escaped from Vilgefortz's throat. His teeth clenched tightly, his whole body trembled violently, and his spine arched backward instinctively like a dying bird in its final struggle.
Only Aristo's instinctive support kept him from collapsing straight onto the ground.
But soon after, Vilgefortz suddenly bent over, vomiting in agony. The liquid filth splattered onto the dark red, foul-smelling pool of blood, spraying fresh blood and staining Aristo's boots red.
This was dimeritium— The bane of sorcerers—or rather, of any extraordinary profession whose foundation was magic.
A rare metal with mana-suppressing properties, whose suppression was accompanied by severe side effects that made sorcerers suffer greatly.
Hen Gedymdeith remained calm, even able to release overwhelming magical pressure—that was because he was the strongest sorcerer in the Northern Continent.
Vilgefortz's reaction was the normal one, even though he too was a magic source.
"Vigo… Vigo…" Lydia van Bredevoort rushed forward to support him, anxiously patting his back gently.
Aristo silently stood up and stepped aside, exchanging a guilty glance with Sol.
After quite some time, the intense dimeritium rejection finally faded. Vilgefortz's face was deathly pale, and he looked like he had just been dragged out of water—his whole body drenched.
"I… I'm fine… Let's go…" Vilgefortz's voice trembled as he spoke.
Sol did not say anything more. He looked toward Vera and instructed: "I will stay here with Lady Tissaia to help Hen Gedymdeith recover as quickly as possible. Vera, Vesemir, and Danthe will go, and…"
Sol suddenly remembered something, paused, then turned to Jerome Moreau and asked: "Master Jerome, may we ask you to accompany them?"
"Of course." Jerome Moreau nodded.
"I can go too!" At that moment, Mary hurriedly dodged Philippa Eilhart's subtly blocking arm, stepped quickly to stand in front of Sol, and looked at him pleadingly.
Sol glanced at Vera.
Mary looked at Vera again with tear-filled eyes.
Vera was silent for a few seconds, sighed, nodded slightly, and agreed.
Tissaia de Vries saw this scene and thought of a young brown-haired priestess from the Temple of Melitele. She gently shook her head, clearly not approving of Vera's arrangement.
Mary had once been her student. Because of her exceptional talent, she had been chosen by Vera upon graduation to become her apprentice.
Tissaia de Vries did not approve of Mary putting all her thoughts into the most useless romance during the period when her strength should be growing the fastest, instead of into research and experiments.
But Mary was already Vera's apprentice, so Tissaia de Vries did not speak up, only thinking she would remind Vera privately after she returned.
"Then add Mary as well…"
Sol didn't say anything more and directly looked at Vera.
Pa~
A snap of the fingers.
An orange-red portal spun open inside the barbican, illuminating the reeking puddle of blood pooled from the gathered filth.
Then he glanced at Vilgefortz and was the first to step into the portal.
Lydia van Bredevoort was about to follow, but Vilgefortz stopped her: "You stay here and help Lady Tissaia."
"But you…"
Lydia van Bredevoort opened her mouth, but Vilgefortz firmly shook his head and said softly, "Be good, Lydia."
Lydia van Bredevoort could only stop.
Thus, the second person to enter the portal was Mary, who rushed in impatiently, followed by Vesemir, and only then Vilgefortz.
Jerome Moreau and Danthe were the last.
Clang~
When everyone had gone through, the portal disappeared.
The barbican instantly dimmed again.
Tissaia de Vries watched the portal fade. With a backward wave of her hand, she opened another portal and said to Lydia van Bredevoort: "Let's go as well…"
Then she hesitated for a moment and said to Philippa Eilhart: "You come too."
"Hen Gedymdeith' return does not mean everything has been settled…"
Clang~
Another portal disappeared.
In the barbican, only Sol and Aristo remained—no, not only them… but also Shaquiel and Valeriu from Ban Ard , both hiding timidly in a corner with extremely low presence.
"What about them?" Aristo asked.
Sol glanced at the corpse pieces strewn across the barbican and the shattered inner walls: "Lock them in the dungeon first…"
Aristo nodded, noticed the little heads poking in from outside the barbican, and roared viciously: "What are you sneaking around looking at?!!"
"Clay! Spencer! Get over here and pick up all the useful materials from the ground!"
"Ah?!!" Clay and Spencer felt like the sky had collapsed. "But these… these monsters—we don't recognize any of them…"
"Then clean the entire barbican!" Aristo waved them off, ignoring the two young witchers' "If we'd known, we wouldn't have come to watch" complaints. He glared fiercely at Shaquiel and Valeriu: "Follow me. Don't try anything funny!"
Shaquiel and Valeriu glanced at Sol's blank face beside Aristo, then looked at the shattered remains on the ground—the war machine Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization had been so proud of—and shook their heads with a bitter smile before following.
"They're not lunatics. How could they possibly try anything in front of dragonslayers…"
—
Meanwhile, on the other side, when Vera's group stepped out of the portal, they encountered a problem they had never even considered.
They could not find Ban Ard.
Or, to be more precise…
Ban Ard… had disappeared…
......
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