'Have we arrived? Or did something unexpected happen?' The witcher immediately pricked up his ears, becoming tense.
It wasn't only the wagon he was in that had stopped.
All around him, the sound of wooden wheels rolling over mud and the hoofbeats of the draft horses also halted one after another.
What followed were voices—questions and exclamations filled with a rural accent, sounding somewhat like the dialect of the Ellander people, yet harsher and more feral.
"Gods above, what's happening up ahead? Why are all the wagons stuck here?"
"Is it bandits? We escaped from the Amell mining district—several of the overseers there were killed by bandits…"
"Can't be bandits. There are knights patrolling the old road. Don't tell me it's those Ghouls drifting over from Ellander again?"
-----------------------------------
'Ghouls from Ellander…' The witcher frowned, capturing the keyword. 'Are those the ones that scattered after the Evil God descended?'
Ghouls, even to an ordinary witcher, were not much trouble as long as one was prepared. But for commoners, caravans with limited arms, and local lords, they were no small threat.
These cunning monsters weren't intelligent, but they understood survival.
When many people were present, they fled; when few were present, they attacked. At night they broke into burial sites to dig up unburned corpses, and even slipped through poorly secured doors and windows of village homes…
Though the School of the Wolf kept no exact statistics, the number of humans on the Northern Continent killed by the claws of Ghouls was certainly among the highest of all monsters.
'I wonder if the Temple of Melitele has caught the ritualist who arranged the summoning formation?' he thought. 'If they haven't, there will be more trouble later…'
The crowd around him grew noisier.
He heard Visenna and Korin jump down from one of the wagons in the caravan and walk toward him—likely worried that if the disturbance spread, someone might take advantage of the chaos.
"We're practically at Brugge. How can everything stop here?" Korin complained. "Has the southern border of Temeria fallen into this much chaos already?"
"It has nothing to do with Temeria," Visenna said quietly. "The Old Road connects Brugge to Sodden. Bandits would never dare rob travelers here. I've been here many times, and it has never been jammed."
"Then something really did happen," Korin muttered.
He turned and asked the coachman and the farmers and merchants stuck around them. The answers were the same as Visenna's.
No one knew why the usually peaceful and unobstructed Old Road had suddenly become "constipated."
"I'll go ahead and take a look. You stay here and take care of the witcher."
Leaving those words behind, Korin borrowed a horse from the caravan and left quickly.
"Ta-ta-ta—"
The hoofbeats faded into the distance, while the commotion around them continued—if anything, it seemed to be intensifying.
"Clang—"
The carriage door opened, and the outside noise instantly grew much clearer.
Visenna stepped inside wrapped in the rich scent of herbs.
The witcher opened his mouth slightly. He remembered the ultimate fate of Visenna and Korin and wanted to warn them, but then reconsidered—his memories said Korin was killed by bandits gathered by the renegade druid Fregenal.
But now, because of him, Visenna and Korin seemed to have abandoned their original destination and had left the bandit-controlled Amell mining district entirely, heading toward Brugge or Amelia (capital of Sodden).
Their fate had already changed—there didn't seem to be anything left to warn them about.
But that brief hesitation…
"Clang—"
Visenna opened the carriage, looked in—apparently confirming he had not suffered any further harm during the commotion—then left the carriage and closed the door again.
Although she waited right outside for Korin to return, in the witcher's severely wounded condition, it was difficult for his voice to reach beyond the carriage.
'Well… I missed a chance…' the witcher thought.
He waited for a while. The outside was still in turmoil, but under the control of several mercenary guards from the caravans, things did not escalate.
Korin seemed like he would still take a while to return, so the witcher simply continued with the plan he had before the disturbance.
With a thought, he carefully opened the Witcher's Journal, ready to close it at any moment.
"Ding!"
The massive stream of information that had been paused rushed into his mind. A series of cold, mechanical prompts echoed in his consciousness, like great bells being struck.
The witcher's head throbbed painfully, but fortunately, his spirit—after Visenna's treatment and long rest—had recovered significantly.
Though the influx of information from the Journal was considerable, it was still within a tolerable range.
[Ding! New permission detected: "Deception LV1 (Next refresh time: New Year)"—awaiting activation!]
[Monster group "Renakins Galleon Price" LV?; "Aen Elle" LV97; "Sunny Gobert" LV99; "Miguel Courtney" LV99; "Sorcerer" LV76—subjugated!]
[Reward Settlement:
Overcoming the Enemy: Base Rating D
Cross-level Kill +3 → C
Winning Many Against Few +3 → B
Driving Tigers to Devour Wolves +3 → A]
[Final Rating: A]
[Obtained Loot:
Renakins Galleon Price's Essence ×1, Renakins Galleon Price's Legacy Vessel ×1, Renakins Galleon Price—Crystal of Memory of the Undying ×1, Crystal of Memory of the Undying ×84,
Sunny Gobert's Legacy Vessel ×1, Miguel Courtney's Legacy Vessel ×1, Sorcerer's Memory ×13, Experience Crystal Pouches ×9,
Renakins Galleon Price's Chests ×5, Sunny Gobert's Chests ×5,
Miguel Courtney's Chests ×5, Aen Elle's Chests ×5, Sorcerer's Chests ×5]
Although the autumn equinox had passed and the Deception permission—allowing him to erase any one settlement rating per elven month—was usable again, there were no negative entries in this reward settlement, so Allen did not activate it.
But even though there were no negative entries, the rating was still a little lower than he expected.
He had thought that hunting so many, and such powerful enemies, would earn at least an S rating if not S+. Yet the final result was only A.
But thinking it over—he usually received bonuses like Decapitation Intimidation, but since he used the black dragon's flames, that condition hadn't triggered.
As for the bonus from completing the main quest "Main Quest: Revival of the World (First Ring)" in the Withered Woodland—though preserved because he had been invisible the whole time and didn't attack—it had been wasted when he entered the dungeon and wasted it on the very first Gargoyle.
'I suppose every S-rank rating is something that can only be encountered, not sought deliberately,' the witcher thought. 'When I left the Withered Woodland, the Free Elves had already withdrawn from the battlefield, and at Kaer Morhen my intended goal had been perfectly achieved.'
'At that time, I hadn't even planned to fight the Wild Hunt or Sunny. Going to Ban Ard was just to see if I could "steal a chicken"—at least help Vilgefortz progress in gathering information about Hen Gedymdeith's location. Who would've expected Vilgefortz had already prepared everything?'
'Then everything proceeded almost too smoothly—rescuing Hen Gedymdeith several months ahead of schedule, killing Sunny, severely damaging the radical faction, and annihilating Renakins's Wild Hunt squad…'
'Everything went beyond expectations. There was no way to logically accumulate or apply settlement bonuses.'
'Of course…'
'The price was great…'
Allen felt his motionless body and the faint but constant pain radiating through him, remaining silent.
From earlier, he had been avoiding one possibility: perhaps this time, he had truly been badly wounded—not the kind that fully heals, but the kind that leaves lasting aftereffects. Severe burns, for example, or…
A disability.
At least since earlier, he had not felt his hands at all.
Disability among witchers was not uncommon. In fact, it was one of the most common fates awaiting them.
At Kaer Morhen, nearly one-fifth of witchers ended up that way.
Unable to wield the cold, pulse-aligned steel of a witcher's blade again, they instead accepted the support of the school, doing whatever tasks they still could—training apprentices, cooking, washing clothes, simple blacksmithing or carpentry…
The only thing more common than disability was death.
'If nothing unexpected happened, Vilgefortz and Lydia should've already taken Hen Gedymdeith to Kaer Morhen.'
The witcher forcefully cut off his dark, suffocating thoughts.
'The School of the Wolf is probably searching the entire continent for me right now…'
He had no doubt about this at all.
If he went missing, Vesemir, Vera, Sol, Mary, Danthe, Aristo, and even Vilgefortz and Lydia van Bredevoort would do everything possible to search for him…
The traces he had left in this world were becoming more and more numerous, and he was becoming more and more like a true witcher.
'But can they find me?'
'They should be able to. Although Ban Ard is a bit far from the southern border of Temeria, thanks to the message bird, they should still be able to track me down slowly… Wait, is the message bird still with me?'
The more he thought about it, the less certain he became.
The potions inside the reagent pouch were definitely hard to keep intact, but out of habit, the message bird was always kept on his person, in the inner pocket of his chest armor.
'Since the wolf medallion is still here, still buzzing from time to time due to Visenna's healing potions and spells, then the message bird, which is also inside the chest armor, should also be fine… right?'
'If Vera and Vesemir can find me, no matter what happens, my safety would be guaranteed.'
'And with Vera around, White Raffard's Decoction (instantly restores a certain percentage of health), Full Moon (increases maximum health after use), and Swallow (accelerates health regeneration, stops for two seconds during extreme activity) can all be brewed, allowing me to recover quickly…'
It wasn't that he was unwilling to teach the potions to Visenna, but a sorceress like Visenna—already an excellent healer and druid—would naturally trust her own treatment methods more.
Convincing Visenna to try his formulas would take time. Gathering ingredients would take time. Teaching her how to brew them and then brewing them would take time. And in the end, Visenna might even insist on verifying the risks of these potions…
With that much time, he wouldn't even need the message bird—he could simply ask Visenna to find a way to contact Vera.
'Speaking of which, after the first failed attempt to dispel the evil god's curse at the Temple of Melitele, Vera had said she contacted the mistress of the Mayena Druid Circle, Visenna, by letter. They should be quite familiar with each other.'
Taking note of something he would need to ask later, the witcher pulled back his scattered thoughts and returned his attention to the Witcher's Journal.
'As expected, Eredin's self-detonation didn't count as my kill…' Allen glanced over the panel, a little regretful.
'As expected of the King of the Wild Hunt—his instincts and decisiveness are both top tier. Even though he had absolute advantage, the moment I used the witcher sign, he immediately self-detonated without hesitation.
To be able to descend across worlds and possess a body, Eredin Bréacc Glas can definitely be called "great"—he counts as a "being".'
'Then those on the same level—the Aen Saevherne Avallac'h, the Alder King Auberon Muircetach—are also on the level of deities, or at least demigods who, with the support of the Aen Elle's magical and alchemical achievements, can reach the level of divine beings.'
'Monsters like that… how do you even fight them? It's troublesome…'
But after thinking for a moment, Allen calmed down again.
If the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up. The Wolf School being weak had its advantages.
Before, the threat of the Wild Hunt hadn't fully manifested. The person involved—Hen Gedymdeith—was badly injured and unconscious. Without a leader, and with Ban Ard in civil chaos, and Aedirn having destroyed Kaedwen, the attention of the Northern Realms had been entirely absorbed by political struggles.
But now…
The civil strife in Ban Ard had subsided. Aedirn itself was having trouble. Ortolan and Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization sorcerers had witnessed with their own eyes the invasive nature of the Wild Hunt and their devastating power. The gaze of the Northern Realms would finally converge on what should truly matter—the threat of the Wild Hunt.
And because of his presence and the unprecedented appearance of the Black Dragon, this sense of threat would spread along with the testimonies of the Ortolan and Rissberg mages, growing even stronger in rumors.
Now, the ones who should be anxious and troubled were transcendental leaders like Hen Gedymdeith and Tissaia de Vries, as well as the wealthy rulers and nobles…
'As for the Wolf School, they were instead the ones urgently in need of being recruited. After all, they only had a small keep and no industries of their own.' he thought.
'At this time, uniting with other witcher schools might allow us to gain a lot of resources and time for development…'
'Once I return, I need to discuss this with Vera and Sol. Even if Ivar Evil-Eye of the Viper School hasn't come yet, we can contact the Griffin School through Jerome Moreau.'
'No matter whether the avalanche that destroyed Kaer Seren will still occur, cooperation on second mutations is still a great starting point. And the operation to expose the mastermind behind the avalanche must proceed at the same time. The Griffin School is lawful good—their goodwill is extremely valuable.'
'The crisis of the Wolf School's destruction has basically been resolved. The next goal is to promote cooperation and integration between witcher schools.'
'Of course, internal development of the school cannot be neglected either…'
Thinking of this, Allen suddenly remembered something else…
'After the autumn equinox, the witchers and witcher masters roaming the Northern Realms should all be returning soon…'
The day he would take over Sol's position and fully take control of the Wolf School was already…
Close at hand…
..........
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