After leaving the small town near Ban Ard, Allen and Vesemir avoided the main road, opting instead for a narrow countryside path that led into the dense, refreshing forest.
The bright sunlight filtered through the towering ancient trees, creating a lively and serene atmosphere within the shaded woodland.
The two witchers were in good spirits.
"The timing matches up," Allen said, pulling on the reins to keep Carrot's pace steady as he rode alongside Vesemir. "That blue magical barrier is probably why the Wild Hunt, after leaving Flotsam Harbor, didn't head north but instead attacked Ellander to the west."
"So once the barrier disappeared, the Wild Hunt would have moved to Ban Ard?" Vesemir tilted his head slightly.
"Most likely. But what exactly is that blue barrier? Why was it suddenly deactivated? And will it rise again?"
"There's no way to know…" Vesemir shook his head helplessly, grumbling, "If Lady Vera were here, it'd be easier to figure this out. Unfortunately, our school doesn't have anyone reliable in Ban Ard. Relying on us to infiltrate the city for information is too risky and would delay rescuing Houghton…"
Allen nodded slightly, understanding that Vesemir was worried about him going into Ban Ard alone.
"Don't worry. I've already learned everything I needed to know and have no intention of entering Ban Ard," Allen said after a pause. "Once night falls, we'll set off again. There's no need to stop anywhere else; we'll reach Vergen soon."
"Let's hope Houghton can hold on until then…" Vesemir sighed.
"He will," Allen assured him.
Following the forest trail, the two witchers chatted intermittently about their journey ahead and the skills and performance of the other witchers along the way.
The relatively short journey quickly passed in their discussion.
"Splash, splash~"
The faint sound of flowing water reached their ears. After turning another corner and passing through dense bushes and trees, they emerged into a spacious clearing.
In the center of the clearing stood a sizable stone building with a waterwheel—a long-abandoned mill.
"We're here!" Allen exhaled deeply.
This was an abandoned mill they had reached earlier that morning. The group had fought off nearly twenty drowners to clear the area for a temporary rest stop.
The mill still housed several bags of high-quality flour, a large amount of unprocessed wheat, and some farming tools.
It seemed the place had been abandoned recently due to the drowner infestation.
But for the witchers, it didn't matter. They were only staying for the day and would leave by nightfall.
"Let's see if those brats actually got any rest. The road ahead won't be easy," Vesemir joked as he spotted the barn in the distance.
Allen chuckled. "I doubt it. Erni and Claral had been itching to leave Kaer Morhen for a month. We've only been away for two days, and they're probably still too excited…"
His voice abruptly stopped.
The two witchers simultaneously fell silent, their expressions turning grave. The strong smell of blood wafted toward them on the shifting wind.
Had the witchers at the barn been attacked?
"Allen, pick up the pace," Vesemir called sternly, turning his head while swiftly drawing a triangle in the air to cast a Quen sign on himself.
Allen's expression grew serious as he nodded. With a squeeze of his legs, he urged his horse into a gallop toward the distant barn.
"Clop, clop, clop~"
The sound of galloping hooves echoed along the bumpy trail.
Both witchers leaned low against their horses' necks to maximize their speed toward the mill.
Soon enough, Allen's heightened witcher senses picked up more than just the overwhelming stench of blood—it also detected the sounds of a fierce struggle and shouting.
Who were his fellow witchers fighting against?
Drowners? Ghouls? Bandits? Or… sorcerers?
No, based on what they had heard at the tavern, there hadn't been any reports of sorcerers dealing with the drowner problem near the villages recently. That ruled out the possibility of Ban Ard's sorcerers being the attackers.
Countless thoughts raced through Allen's mind as he kept his eyes fixed on the rapidly approaching waterwheel. Then, in the next moment, he suddenly relaxed.
Ding~
[Drowner Horde Lv14 Defeated!]
[Rewards Settled: …]
[Final Rating: D (Loot Locked)]
[Obtained Loot: Drowner Heart Essence x8, Small Experience Orbs x3, Drowner Treasure Chest x2]
The familiar mechanical notification ringing in his ears finally allowed Allen to breathe a sigh of relief. Since the rewards had been settled, it meant that Erni and Claral's group had already dealt with the threat.
He had been overthinking things.
They had only been gone for two hours. How could Ban Ard's sorcerers have chosen such a coincidental moment to launch an attack?
It was such an obvious conclusion—one that should have been easy to reach.
"Guilty conscience," Allen thought wryly. "I kept thinking about Ban Ard's blue barrier, so I instinctively treated the sorcerers as imaginary enemies."
"Besides, what are the odds of a mill so close to a river and not too far from a city being overrun by that many monsters…"
"And how many drowners would it take to threaten seven witchers who've spent half a year fighting them?"
Still…
Allen looked ahead.
Because he had subconsciously relaxed, Vesemir, the experienced and vigilant witcher master, had already ridden past him.
The expression beneath Vesemir's wide-brimmed black hat remained just as tense and urgent.
"It's not just me with a guilty conscience," Allen thought. "Vesemir may have dismissed the idea out loud, but he's clearly been considering Ban Ard as well."
"After all…"
"Who could resist the opportunity to pit two of the most troublesome enemies against each other?"
Allen decided not to point this out to Vesemir. Instead, he squeezed his legs again and sped up to follow.
Though Allen said nothing, Vesemir relaxed just as they approaching the barn, as the sounds of familiar bickering reached them.
"Clay! You stole my drowner kill again!"
"Hahaha! All you do is pose while fighting! They're just drowners—it doesn't matter if it's one sword swing or two, or even three or four, as long as they're dead! Why are you so obsessed with decapitation? You think you're Captain Allen?"
"I'm not! I wasn't trying to imitate…"
"Hahaha! Yes, you were! You were! Everyone saw it, and not just once or twice…"
"Yeah! Yeah! We all saw it, Ice!"
"We did! We saw it! We saw it!"
"Ugh—Clay, you've gone too far! I'm going to kill you—"
"Bring it on!"
----------------
The chaotic, playful voices filled the barn with life.
Having envisioned countless grim scenarios in his mind, Vesemir now wore a dark expression, but he tugged on the reins and exhaled deeply in relief.
Since they still had the energy to playfully spar and joke around, it seemed like no one was injured.
"These little rascals sure are lively..." Vesemir shook his head helplessly.
Riding into the mill, the sharp stench of blood and decay became even stronger as they turned a corner.
Around ten drowners' corpses lay scattered across the clearing in front of the mill in various positions.
While Allen was wielding his sword, chasing after Clay, Erni, Claral, and a few other witchers squatted on the ground.
They were busy extracting materials from the drowners, all the while laughing and teasing Allen, who was blushing furiously, veins popping on his forehead, and yelling, "Arghhh—!" at the top of his lungs.
Even though he was thoroughly annoyed, and despite the occasional flicker of a Quen sign on Clay's body, Allen still showed restraint, using only the back of his sword to swing and smack at him.
"Master Vesemir! Commander! You're back!" Erni's sharp eyes spotted them first and exclaimed in surprise.
All the witchers turned their gaze toward them.
Thud.
The sack in Allen's hand landed on a clean spot on the ground.
"We've brought some food back for you. Erni, come help divide it up," Allen said.
Hearing this, Erni quickly finished cutting out a drowner's tongue with a small knife, then walked over to pick up the sack.
"What's with all these drowners?" Vesemir asked as he scanned the area.
"They emerged from the river near the waterwheel after you left," Clay answered, dodging Allen's sword as he approached with a cheeky grin.
Allen, seeing both Vesemir and Allen present, hesitated before sheathing his sword and adding, "Three waves of them in total, all from that river."
"No wonder there's still so much grain and flour here, and no one's come to use the mill…" Allen nodded thoughtfully. "Given this frequency, regular folk wouldn't stand a chance. It's no surprise they had to abandon it…"
Vesemir nodded in agreement and didn't probe further.
Ever since they descended from Kaer Morhen, they had noticed that, due to the conjunction of the spheres that occurred earlier in the year near Ban Ard, the closer they got to the city, the more frequent the drowner attacks became. Not only that, but the drowners' strength, speed, skin toughness, and even their aggressiveness had significantly increased.
These were nothing like the drowners Vesemir had encountered in the past.
With furrowed brows, Vesemir glanced at a partially open door nearby, where a dusty sack was faintly visible.
Perhaps these young witchers, even Allen, hadn't realized yet.
The consequences of these drowners weren't limited to the abandonment of a single mill.
In Kaedwen, and across the entire Northern Realms, mills relied on river water to grind wheat. If the drowners were this aggressive, many of the mills near Ban Ard would likely become inoperable.
Before long, Ban Ard… no, considering the ongoing war with Aedirn and the massive consumption of grain it entailed, the entire kingdom of Kaedwen would face a severe food shortage…
Thinking of this, Vesemir cast a discreet glance at Allen and sighed inwardly.
Then, as usual, he began scolding the rowdy young witchers, who had been behaving like mischievous monkeys ever since leaving Kaer Morhen.
Calmly, as if nothing had happened.
---------------------
No sooner had Vesemir and Allen left than the unnamed village near Ban Ard fell into turmoil.
Even villagers who hadn't seen the flickering barrier in person began asking their neighbors out of curiosity, and those who looked up noticed that the once-glimmering barrier had suddenly disappeared.
This was no small matter.
The "Spatial Isolation Barrier of Giambattista," which had stood over Ban Ard for more than two months, had become a familiar sight. For some villagers who lived in constant fear of a sudden drowner tide, the barrier was even a psychological comfort, a symbol of protection.
Many people had set their sights on moving into the area protected by the noble mages.
So when the barrier vanished, the sparse village erupted in loud commotion, and everyone rushed to the village elder's house for answers.
"What's going on?!" The bald, patchy-clothed old village elder flung open his courtyard gate in alarm, only to be startled by the crowd thronging outside. "Did drowners attack someone's home again?!"
After a cacophony of explanations, the elder left his house and was dragged by the crowd to the rocky path near the village, where he could see the "bare" city in the distance.
"Old Tos, do you know why the blue dome disappeared?" someone asked hopefully, though the elder's clueless expression didn't inspire confidence.
The elder's heart sank. Normally, if something of this magnitude occurred, the city council or mages would send someone to notify him to prevent unrest in the surrounding villages.
No word at all…
Could it be that Ban Ard had been overrun by drowners again, just like two months ago?
A terrifying thought crossed his mind, and his aging heart pounded wildly, nearly making him lose his breath. However, seeing the frightened and helpless faces of the villagers around him, he forced himself to stay calm.
"Nothing to worry about! Stop making a fuss…" he said, trying to reassure them. "Ban Ard is one of the only two mage academies in the Northern Realms. There's no way anything could go wrong…"
His words managed to quell the crowd somewhat, but his own heart was still racing.
Until…
The sound of hooves echoed outside the village.
A group of heavily armed guards escorted five mages in black robes into the narrow village path.
The black robes, adorned with shimmering silver stars, exuded an air of mystery that made the villagers avert their eyes in awe.
Those familiar with the symbols of mages near Ban Ard recognized the significance of the attire.
Black robes with silver stars…
These were high-ranking mages they had never seen before.
Only the village elder dared to step forward, bowing deeply.
"R-respected mages…"
He stammered, but before he could finish, the youngest-looking mage in the center, mounted on a glossy black horse, interrupted him with a gentle question.
"Are you the village elder?" the mage asked warmly.
The elder nodded repeatedly, bowing even lower. "Y-yes, my lord mage. I-I am the elder…"
The young mage smiled and nodded.
"Please find someone familiar with the local terrain to guide us to…"
He paused, glancing at the guard beside him.
"Banra Mill, my lord Sunny," the guard supplied.
"That's right," the mage, Sunny, smiled apologetically before turning back to the elder. "Guide us to Banra Mill."
.....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
328. Encounter with the Sorcerer.
329. Vilgefortz.
330. Ancient Blood or the Child of Miracles.
331. Crashing the Necrophage Party.
332. The Envoys of the God Kreve.