Francesca Findabair instinctively loosened her hand to catch it.
Her own messenger bird immediately spread its wings and flew upward, slipping through the narrow gaps between lush leaves and blending into the sky.
The desolate woodland instantly fell silent.
Everyone held their breath, staring fixedly as the other messenger bird slowly landed on Francesca Findabair's pale, slender finger—white as scallions.
Its tiny head tilted as it lightly pecked the back of her hand, urging her.
Francesca Findabair looked back and met the gaze of Margarita Laux-Antille, who was lifting her head while panting. Then Francesca quietly shifted her glance away.
Exchanging a look with Ida Emean aep Sivney, Vera, Vesemir, and the others, she said something completely unnecessary—"Allen's messenger bird…"—then took a deep breath and raised her finger, pressing the messenger bird's crystal beak to her forehead, where dark-golden hair hung in messy strands.
The desolate woodland grew even quieter.
Ida Emean aep Sivney leaned casually against a hornbeam trunk, pretending not to care, though her eyes kept drifting toward a certain figure.
Vilgefortz, Vesemir, Danthe, and Jerome Moreau stared without blinking.
Standing close together, Vera and Mary clenched their dirty fists—thin skin etched with grooves filled with mud and moss—watching Francesca Findabair's thin red lips nervously, terrified she might utter misfortune at any moment.
"Allen is still alive!"
Francesca Findabair knew exactly what everyone was worried about. Her first words upon opening her eyes eased all their tension.
Her beautiful thin lips curved in joy as she continued: "The message says he's now on the old road between Temeria, Brugge, and Armeria."
"Let me see!" Vera, supported by Mary, quickly walked over.
Francesca looked at the hand the sorceress extended, hesitated for a moment, glanced at Mary supporting Vera's right arm, then nodded and gently placed the messenger bird in Vera's left palm.
Unable to contain herself, Vera immediately pressed the bird's crystalline beak to her forehead.
"It's definitely Allen," The always-cold, distant, hard-to-approach Vera suddenly melted, smiling softly. "Allen didn't leave much information in the message, but the spiritual frequency is unquestionably his."
"He's conscious, and he sent the messenger bird of his own will."
"He's probably just stuck in Brugge for some reason—maybe a bit injured, but nothing serious."
"Let me think… the old road between Brugge and Amellia… I have portal coordinates on a hill outside Maribor."
"If we buy a few horses in Maribor, we can reach the old road in a day…"
"Let me handle it," Ida Emean aep Sivney said. "I've been to Brugge before, though it was a while ago. I need some time to recall."
"That's even better," Vera nodded. "Portal coordinates in Brugge would be far better…"
Everyone in the desolate woodland finally breathed out in relief.
"Teacher, can I also look at the—"
"Lady Vera, may I have the messenger bird back?"
Mary had just tugged lightly at Vera's robe when Francesca Findabair suddenly asked politely.
The woodland, just beginning to grow noisy from the good news, instantly fell silent again—then, pretending nothing had happened, resumed its noise.
But everyone was clearly paying half attention to that part of the woodland where the "female sorceress density" was dangerously high.
Amid the forced chatter, Mary frowned and looked back at Francesca.
Two sorceresses—who had almost no contact even back when Francesca and Ida Emean aep Sivney came to Kaer Morhen to sign the alliance—found themselves staring at each other.
The parts of Francesca Findabair's face not stained by mud were as pale as snow, flushing red, yet her sapphire-clear eyes met Mary's equally blue gaze without flinching.
A hint of smoldering dwarf-powder tension rose in the air.
"Tsk tsk… your precious child…" Ida's gloating whisper reached Vera's ears. "Which one do you prefer as your child's partner?"
"Just calculate your portal coordinates," Vera rolled her eyes gently, refusing to answer.
Expressionless, she tossed the messenger bird to Mary. Before excitement could fully bloom on Mary's face, Vera said to Francesca: "After Mary finishes, she will return it to you."
Mary's expression stiffened.
Francesca Findabair glanced at the crystal bird in Mary's hand, her delicate brows creasing slightly.
But she didn't argue. She simply nodded lightly: "Alright, Lady Vera."
Then, with those blue eyes that held no warmth, she stared straight at Mary.
Mary pursed her small lips, hesitating as she looked toward Vera. But under Vera's even colder gaze, and under her mentor's authority, her mouth opened and closed as if muttering something under her breath. Then she pressed the messenger bird's beak against her forehead.
At the side, Danthe and Vesemir exchanged a meaningful glance.
When Allen's whereabouts and life or death were still uncertain, there had been some friction between Francesca Findabair and Mary—but mainly it was a matter of who could endure more, persist longer, and make it through this seemingly endless journey of suffering.
But now, once Allen's status and location were confirmed, the conflict over who the messenger bird belonged to immediately erupted.
Mary was reading the message.
While waiting for Ida Emean to recall the portal coordinates, everyone who had finally relaxed began chatting in small groups.
"Sorry, Vilgefortz. It seems we really did misunderstand you."
Vesemir apologetically patted the male mage, who reeked strongly of sweat after rushing on the road for days. "I apologize for Aristo's words and behavior…"
"It's fine…" Vilgefortz waved his hand. "Master Aristo's doubts were valid and understandable. As long as Allen is alright."
Vesemir nodded.
"Allen is unbelievable," Danthe adjusted his sword belt and laughed lightly, changing the topic. "He finished the contract, and instead of coming straight back, somehow ran all the way from Ban Ard to Brugge and Sodden."
"But speaking of which, from Ban Ard to Brugge—how did Allen run that far in just a handful of days?"
"Could it be that the royal griffin egg has already hatched?"
'Even stranger than a royal griffin… an answer none of you could imagine in your entire lives…' Vilgefortz remained silent, muttering inwardly to himself.
But he too was very interested in why the Child of Miracles had crossed almost the entire Northern Continent to reach Brugge, a place near Temeria and close to Brokilon, land of the dryads.
And also…
"And why did Ban Ard suddenly disappear?" Danthe asked again.
"It's not like the entire city was destroyed. It feels more like someone suddenly picked up a stone from the ground… and moved it somewhere else."
"You get what I mean, Vesemir? Ban Ard was that stone…"
"When we see Allen, ask him…" Vesemir shrugged. "I'm sure he can give you an answer."
Deep down, he also had doubts about the sudden disappearance of the great city Ban Ard.
He remembered Allen's analysis: Ban Ard, especially for Kaer Morhen, served as a shield attracting the Wild Hunt's attacks across the whole Northern Continent.
This was one of the reasons Allen accepted Tissaia de Vries' mission to rescue Hen Gedymdeith—the Wolf School needed a stable and powerful Ban Ard in front to draw the enemy's hatred.
But now Ban Ard—the Ban Ard that attracted the Wild Hunt's hostility—had suddenly vanished.
Would the Wild Hunt's hatred now be drawn toward Kaer Morhen?
Vesemir's brows moved almost imperceptibly as he made up his mind to ask Allen privately once they found him.
"I also wonder what Hen Gedymdeith will think when he wakes up and finds Ban Ard suddenly gone?" After a few casual comments, Danthe suddenly let out a sly laugh, sounding a bit gloating.
Vesemir's attention was also caught by Danthe's words, and he couldn't help but curl his lips slightly.
Rescuing Hen Gedymdeith had been a last resort—who wouldn't want to see the sorcerers of Ban Ard, their long-time rivals, living a little worse and making a few more embarrassing mistakes?
Wait…
Vesemir suddenly thought of a problem.
Right now, besides Hen Gedymdeith as the dean, are there even any other male sorcerers left in Ban Ard?
Mary finished reading the brief message from the messenger bird. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Francesca Findabair. Even she had to admit those beautiful blue eyes and that even more alluring, flawless face.
And that made Mary's mood sink even further.
She stroked the messenger bird's smooth, delicate texture—her fingertips sliding from the end of the crystalline feathers, following the patterns, brushing past the trembling slender neck, the small head, and the beak.
Francesca Findabair clearly noticed the little gesture. Her tired but exquisite brows tightened gently as she looked at Mary coldly, her gaze wary and filled with distaste, silently urging her.
What are you wary of? And what are you disgusted by?
Afraid I'll steal the messenger bird? Disgusted by my fingers tracing the patterns of the messenger bird Allen gave you?
Mary wanted to question her aloud.
The messenger bird was clearly given to me first by Allen, and it was only lent to you—no, only lent to Ida Emean.
Me!
'I was the one who had it first!'
Francesca Findabair did not respond, simply shifting her gaze away to Vera, who was completely focused on Ida Emean.
"Once you're done reading, give it to her, Mary."
"But I don't want to…"
"Give it to her!"
"I was just—"
"Give it to her, Margarita Laux-Antille!"
Vera turned her head, expressionless as she looked at Mary, her voice extremely soft.
When her mentor called her full name, the sorceress trembled all over, no longer daring to hold onto the messenger bird. Biting her lower lip, she reluctantly handed it toward Francesca Findabair.
"Thank you," Francesca Findabair said, expressionless but polite.
Mary's teeth bit into her lower lip hard enough to break the skin.
Francesca picked up the messenger bird—but couldn't take it.
Three slender, pale fingers were still pinching the bird.
Francesca lifted her gaze, looking at the human sorceress whose face was full of unwillingness.
"Remember, elf, only the messenger bird…" Mary looked deeply at the elven sorceress and said something abrupt and seemingly meaningless before releasing her fingers.
Francesca smoothly took the transparent messenger bird and closed her fist around it.
"All right!"
At that moment, Ida Emean let out a long breath and waved her right hand.
Clang~
An orange-red portal appeared in the middle of the barren woodland.
"Which of you plans to go first?" Ida Emean looked at Mary, who stood nearest to the portal, then at Francesca Findabair.
Mary said nothing and walked straight into the portal without looking back.
Francesca glanced very subtly at Mary's retreating figure and tightened her grip on the messenger bird again. The veins on the back of her pale hand faintly appeared.
"It's not just the messenger bird…"
Francesca said silently in her heart, following behind Vera and stepping into the portal as well.
—
In the afternoon, the sun was harsh.
A wagon and travelers moved slowly along the old road.
After word spread across the entire road that Brugge had sealed the city, the merchants, vendors, and travelers—who knew complaining was pointless—only after half a morning of grumbling finally began heading toward the new destinations of their altered journeys.
Visenna and Korin, after settling the travel fees with the caravan leader, purchased a stretcher made of clean linen and a few wooden poles. Carefully, they carried Allen to the shade of a thick oak beside the old road.
Then they trimmed the bandage over Allen's eyes, leaving a small slit so the witcher could observe the outside world.
This wasn't Allen's idea—Visenna worried that a newly awakened witcher might grow bored, or feel uneasy or panicked from suddenly losing sight.
But the latter was impossible for Allen.
Once he heard that his vision wasn't lost, he relaxed, forcing himself—exhausted as he was from the mental drain of sending messages through the messenger bird—to stay awake and wait for Vera's arrival.
Of course, it might also be Francesca Findabair or Ida Emean.
Either was fine.
Ida Emean was also skilled at portal magic.
Although to be honest, even though there wasn't much difference between their portal techniques—Ida might even be better—Allen still preferred Vera to come.
Because that would at least mean Vilgefortz had successfully escorted Hen Gedymdeith out of Ban Ard and back to Kaer Morhen.
As for boredom from not being able to see because of the bandage—that was impossible.
Ever since Allen had introduced himself inside the wagon, Geralt's father, Korin, had behaved like his most devoted fan. He either excitedly questioned him through the telepathic link or enthusiastically introduced his glorious deeds to Visenna, who knew nothing.
It left the Lady of the Mayena Druid Circle stunned again and again, often looking at Allen and Korin with disbelief and suspicion.
And honestly—
Her suspicion wasn't wrong.
Allen had no idea when he supposedly stood alone at the gates of Ellander and slew ten thousand wraiths single-handedly; or when Kaer Morhen's back mountain suddenly gained a flock of at least fifty royal griffins he had "tamed"; or when he supposedly received a countship from the Duke of Ellander…
Rumors were absurd.
But the fame was definitely there—and extremely loud.
So after he corrected each rumor one by one, Visenna and Korin inevitably asked the same question: "What monster injured you so badly? Did an evil god appear in Temeria?"
Allen didn't have time to answer.
From the old road—where the flow of people had thinned—suddenly came commotion from far to near, catching the attention of Visenna and Korin.
.........
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