"Pa~"
Ida Emean gently closed the thick parchment book and looked at Allen with admiration in her eyes. "You really learn very fast. You're very talented."
"Most children of the Hill Folk don't learn this quickly."
"Although this isn't the first time I've said it, I still have to ask again—are you really a witcher?"
Although Elder Speech was the elves' mother tongue, considering the elves' long lifespan and equally long growth period, learning Elder Speech faster than ordinary elven children couldn't be considered much of a compliment.
Of course, the second half of her words was indeed genuine praise.
That slight arrogance mixed with sharpness—this was exactly the kind of tone people stereotypically imagined when elves gave compliments.
"There are plenty of witchers who understand Elder Speech," Allen replied with a polite smile. "Vesemir and Danthe both speak fluent Elder Speech…"
"It's not the same," Ida Emean shook her head. "Other witchers merely learned another language. But what you're receiving is the most orthodox Elder Speech training—the curriculum once prepared by the Hill Folk for clansmen with exceptional magical talent."
"Vera has very high expectations for you."
Allen gently shook his head, not responding to that.
Ida Emean didn't mind. She rose from her chair and glanced out the window. "Even though it's still early, we'll stop here for today. Before Vera left, she told me you were interested in the druidic path?"
"That's right," Allen nodded and stood up as well. "I'll have to trouble you to find me a good mentor, Lady Ida."
As she walked out of the wooden hut, Ida Emean lightly shook her head. "Zebi is a very enthusiastic Great Druid. In fact, even if Vera didn't ask me, if you went to him yourself, he would definitely teach you the druidic path sincerely."
"For a druid, sharing their beliefs and philosophy with others is an even greater joy than saving endangered animals or stopping humans from reckless logging…"
"Zebi might even thank me for finding him a good student…"
Hearing this, Allen smiled faintly but didn't take it to heart.
Ordinary druids might indeed wish for their philosophy—whether it was protecting nature, restraining logging, or pure naturism—to be widely known.
But at the level of a Great Druid, who sought deeper communion with nature, they spent almost all year secluded in the Druid Circle, or hidden deep in the remote mountains and forests far from civilization.
More importantly, Zebi Ortega might truly be a Great Druid who loved teaching, but finding whichever tree hollow, patch of woodland, or crow's nest he was meditating in was no simple task.
Even Visenna might not be able to do that.
The Lady of the Mayena Druid Circle was not, as the outside world assumed, the ruler who controlled the entire Circle and all druids within it.
Within the Circle, all druids were equal.
Visenna was merely the administrator of the Mayena Druid Circle, responsible for all external affairs—ensuring that worldly matters did not disturb the Great Druids' contemplation. She was essentially the equivalent of a corporate CEO from Allen's past life.
Therefore, Visenna absolutely could not know everything happening inside the Circle—much less the whereabouts of the Great Druids who truly stood behind it.
More importantly, the situation itself was strange.
A witcher who spent his days hunting monsters and walking the path of the hunt suddenly became vegetarian and sought to embrace the druidic way.
And instead of seeking out the other druids or Great Druids, he insisted on finding Zebi Ortega—who was hidden somewhere in the enormous Mayena Druid Circle.
It was obviously suspicious.
Vera's current arrangement was far better.
Busy with the affairs of the Brotherhood of sorcerers, she could only entrust the youngest witcher master of the Wolf School—who had suddenly grown interested—to Ida Emean.
And since Ida Emean's entire people had just been saved, she naturally wouldn't introduce just any druid—leaving only the half-elf Zebi Ortega as the choice.
It was only natural. Perfectly reasonable.
"And for that reason," Ida Emean pushed open the door but did not step out, "merely introducing one druid is far from enough to repay even one-thousandth of what the Free Elves owe."
Allen halted and looked up.
In the red-haired elf woman's deep eyes, he saw a solemnity and gratitude he had never seen before.
"We are allies," Allen said softly.
He wasn't surprised that Ida Emean could guess that he was connected to the Conjunction of the Spheres that day—after all, the message-bird had passed through her hands to Francesca Findabair.
It was entirely possible she had been beside Francesca when the message arrived.
The witcher wasn't worried.
She knew more than one of Allen's secrets.
And although Vera's relationship with her looked ordinary on the surface, the mere fact that Vera was willing to let an elf who had once been her opponent—and even briefly an enemy—know about the "Child of Miracle" said everything.
Vera trusted Ida Emean the same way she trusted Ianna, the Arch Priestess of Melitele she had personally raised.
More importantly, the Hill Folk had been weakened again and again—they no longer had the qualifications to covet the Conjunction of the Spheres or the Gate of Ard Gaeth. They couldn't even withstand a falling-out with the Wolf School.
To them, the Gate of Ard Gaeth was not a treasure—it was a calamity.
"The Hill Folk always repay our debts," Ida Emean said, shaking her head. "We may be declining, but our treasured artifacts are not few. And each one is carefully chosen—like the message-bird, like…"
She paused, her gaze lowering slightly toward his chest, where a piece of black cloth peeked out. "Night-Shade."
At her words, Allen remembered that "Night-Shade" was originally Francesca Findabair's treasure—and had always been worn on her face. He instantly felt embarrassed, as though he had been caught stealing a woman's underwear. Unnaturally, he pushed the black cloth back under his collar.
He coughed twice awkwardly. "It really is very useful."
Ida Emean smiled, then grew solemn again. "On behalf of the Free Elves, I invite you to the camp of the Free Elves."
"All treasures possessed by the Free Elves—so long as they are not currently held by someone, and not something the Free Elves absolutely need—you may choose freely. No limit on quantity."
"Believe me—even with those two restrictions, the former glory of the Elven Royal Court will still leave anyone dazzled."
"Of course…"
Ida Emean playfully blinked at him. "Francesca Findabair is not included in the list of things being repaid. Even though she is the most precious treasure of the Free Elves. Even though I'm quite sure she would be very willing…"
Allen froze again, opening his mouth to speak—
Wait!
Representing the Free Elves… treasures with no limit on quantity…
Why did that sound so strange?
Although Ida Emean was a Sage and certainly held a high position among the Free Elves, for her to make use of the treasures of the Elven Royal Court—no matter how many treasures there were—she definitely shouldn't have the authority to allow someone to take them without restriction…
Unless…
"Correct," Ida Emean seemed to have been waiting for Allen's look of surprise, and nodded with a squinting smile. "This is the promise of Simlas Finn aep Dabairr, the uncrowned Elven King of the Free Elves."
Simlas Finn aep Dabairr?
Francesca's… father…
Allen stared at Ida Emean in a daze.
"It wasn't me, nor Enid," Ida Emean chuckled lightly, then shook her head and denied her own words. "Or rather, Enid didn't do it intentionally."
With a hint of schadenfreude, she sighed softly: "How could a little girl, simply falling in love, possibly hide it from such a perceptive father?"
"He didn't need to ask me. Simlas could find the protagonist of the story all on his own."
"But don't worry—other than me, Enid, Simlas, and Kariya, there's no fifth person who knows that person is you."
It wasn't really a problem… Allen had already expected this.
But thinking of the generous rewards from the Free Elves, he felt things were even stranger.
Unlimited treasures… why did it sound exactly like a wealthy father writing a blank check with no limit to make some blond-haired kid leave his daughter?
"Alright," Allen nodded calmly, "I'm curious to meet the leader of the Free Elves myself…"
Ida Emean nodded faintly.
They walked out of the wooden hut. Dazzling sunlight slipped through the gaps between lush green leaves, scattering mottled patches of light across the moss-covered ground.
Despite having stayed in the Mayena Druid Circle for so many days, this was the first time Allen had stepped out of the treehouse.
He subconsciously narrowed his eyes until the witcher's cat-like pupils adjusted to the change in brightness.
Oak trees sprouted treehouses arranged in neat layers, row after row, quietly standing around the roots.
Kingfishers chirped clearly, unafraid of people, tilting their heads as they perched on branches to look down.
In front of each treehouse were flowerbeds and herb plots—tulips, daisies, roses, sage, redflower… those he could name and those he couldn't—all thriving vigorously, overflowing with life.
A few plump cats lay curled beside the houses. Seeing Allen and Ida Emean come out, they glanced over, meowed once, then continued sunbathing.
Looking across the small druid village, there were hardly any people moving about.
'A great place for retirement…'The thought suddenly popped into Allen's mind—even though he was only fourteen, and his witcher career had just begun.
"Mayena Druid Circle isn't usually like this," Ida Emean suddenly said.
"Hm?"
"This area is where the ordinary druids of Mayena Druid Circle live," Ida Emean looked around. "Druids value the tranquility of nature, but most of those who haven't hit a bottleneck quite enjoy festivities."
"Normally, if a newcomer arrives at the outer ring, they'd celebrate wildly for several days."
"Recently, Mayena Druid Circle seems to have some important task. Most of the druids have been sent out—that's why it's so quiet."
"Let's go that way. We're heading to the inner ring. I already sent word to Zebi this morning."
Ida Emean pointed to a small path leading from the druid village into the dense forest, guiding the way ahead.
"For the Black Dragon?" Allen followed behind her.
Ida Emean turned her head and gave him a deep look. "No. Just as you and Vera expected, before the news of Ban Ard's disappearance spread, the existence of the black dragon had already been disproven."
"The Mayena Druid Circle seemed to have already become busy even before the black dragon appeared."
"But even if the news of Ban Ard's disappearance came, it wouldn't matter. Although the various druid circles of the Northern Continent differ in ideology, they share one thing in common—they all detest the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, especially those male mages in Rissberg who promote gene modification."
"Hearing that Ban Ard was transported into the Valley of Thousand Monsters, most druids of the Mayena Circle would only mock them with a few schadenfreude remarks and then forget about it."
Allen nodded, not asking further.
He couldn't even handle his own matters; he had no spare energy to pay attention to the druids' abnormalities.
In early autumn, the Mayena Druid Circle was still lush and verdant.
The deeper they walked toward the heart of the forest, the more they saw giant trees—each one taller and more majestic than the last.
Step by step, they trod on rotting leaves, listening to the soft rustling whispers of the forest floor, as if they were stepping upon the rings of time.
Because of the prophecy, Allen's mind had been tense, but with the serene atmosphere of the forest and the occasional darting creatures, he gradually relaxed.
A small deer with reddish-brown fur dotted with white spots stopped before him, its dark glossy eyes wide. It lifted its neck, rubbed against the back of his hand, and squinted its eyes.
Allen froze for a moment, then raised his hand with a small laugh and gently stroked the fawn's smooth fur.
"The druids of Mayena never deliberately tame the beasts within the Druid Circle," Ida Emean, who was also being 'entangled' by a fawn, rhythmically rubbed its forehead and the back of its neck with her slender fingers, "but simply following druid doctrine—driving away poachers and preventing noble loggers from entering—is enough for the creatures of this forest to become dependent."
"Beasts born and raised within a Druid Circle cannot be released into forests outside the Circle. They would quickly die because they cannot adapt to the ever-present dangers."
"This again involves ideological differences among druids—whether the existence of druids themselves is a form of interference with nature…"
"Come on. If you keep entertaining them like this, more and more will gather, and eventually we won't be able to move at all…"
After stroking the fawn for a moment, Ida Emean patted the back of its neck. The fawn looked back reluctantly, and receiving no response, bounded away.
Seeing several pairs of gentle dark eyes emerging from the shrubs nearby, Allen imitated the elf, patted the small deer, and continued following her deeper into the woods.
"Which faction is Master Zebi?" he asked curiously.
"Let me think…" Ida Emean tapped her smooth chin with a finger.
"Two hundred years ago, he was the latter—strongly opposed to any druid interference with nature. A hundred years ago, he was the former."
"As for now, I'm not too sure. You can ask him yourself later…"
Ideologies and factions could change like this?
Ban Ard had nearly beaten itself to death over ideologies and factions.
Sol had almost collapsed and died because of ideology.
Allen turned to look at the elf in surprise.
"Druids are sorcerers, yet not sorcerers," Ida Emean curled her lips slightly. "Since you're interested in the druidic path, I don't need to explain. Before long, you'll see for yourself…"
"All right. We're here…"
"That is the Sacred Mayena—the largest oak tree on the Northern Continent…"
...........
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