"How could it not be?"
Unbelievable murmurs came from a pile of messy papers.
These papers were expensive chiffon, worth more than silver, the finest material used to convey love, poetry, and music.
Unfortunately, their owner did not cherish their value. He brutally scribbled chaotic characters on them, crumpled them up, and carelessly tossed them aside.
"Whoosh—"
Another piece of chiffon paper was violently battered, arcing through the air before falling to the ground.
On the desk, the candle wept, the wax dripped into a messy puddle on the candlestick.
The candlelight flickered.
"Why can't it be disproven?"
The murmurs came again from the disordered papers on the desk.
"Knock, knock, knock~"
A soft knock echoed.
The murmurs ceased for a moment, seemingly lost in their own world, unable to hear the sounds from the outside.
"Knock, knock, knock~"
The knocking came again, followed by a worried female voice from outside.
"Vigo~" she called.
"Vigo~"
The murmurs abruptly stopped.
A disheveled head shot up from the paper pile, with messy hair, deep eye bags, and pale skin...
But even in this low-energy state, a handsome face could still be seen, though the exhaustion lent it a kind of sickly beauty.
He looked at the direction of the voice with bloodshot eyes.
"Knock, knock, knock~"
"Vigo~"
Another call rang out.
It seemed that only then did Vilgefortz remember what he should do.
He stirred the slightly sluggish magic within his body and waved his right hand gently.
"Click~"
The door lock was undone.
"Is something wrong?" Vilgefortz asked tiredly, looking at Lydia who walked in with a furrowed brow, her face full of concern. "Has Sunny begged for support from various countries, or are you preparing to send someone into Blue Mountain to hunt for 'rabbits'?"
Lydia walked in without speaking, instead surveying the disordered surroundings of the study, her eyebrows furrowed.
She raised her hand, and a slender redwood staff appeared in her grip. Then, with a gentle wave.
A soft breeze suddenly blew through the room, pushing the window open to reveal the starry night sky, and the breeze swept across the desk.
However, this wind did not move the crumpled papers around Vilgefortz but instead replaced the nearly spent candle and cleaned the wax residue on the candlestick before leaving the desk...
The wind then swept all the paper piles on the floor together...
In just a minute or two, the study was considerably tidied.
Only the disordered desk and Vilgefortz, with his pale and messy appearance, seemed out of place in this clean environment.
Vilgefortz gave a helpless smile, then waved his hand to tidy up his hair and face.
Lydia nodded in satisfaction, raised her right hand, and with a wave of her left hand, summoned a teapot. "Six days have passed, and you still have no clue?"
"Thank you."
Vilgefortz nodded, thanking Lydia as she poured him tea, then shook his head helplessly.
"Not yet," he whispered. "There is even less information about the Son of Miracle than I expected..."
"The archaeological findings from the ancient elven graveyard were all prophecies related to elder blood."
Vilgefortz sighed. "Ithlinne Aegli aep Aevenien, the ancient astrologer, prophet, and seer, her prophecies seemed to have suddenly changed at some point in history."
"I don't know if it was a ruler, an elven king, or a human king who did it, but someone altered the main subject of the prophecies..."
"Like Sunny slandering the Witchers, spreading rumors?" Lydia put down her teacup and interjected.
Vilgefortz shrugged. "It could also have been Geoffrey, Jan Bekker, or Giambattista, founders of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. Maybe they used powerful magic to make everyone forget."
"Is there really such powerful magic?" Lydia's eyes widened.
"I don't know," Vilgefortz shook his head. "All I know is that even Hen Gedymdeith wouldn't have the ability to capture spirits for fun like Geoffrey did."
"So..."
"Who knows how powerful those old guys were?"
Lydia nodded, signaling that she accepted the explanation.
Indeed, the control over magic by sorcerers was declining, and some researchers had even made the prediction and prophecy that there would be no more spellcasters in the future, the theory of a world without magic.
Sorcerers who believed in the theory of no magic were, in fact, the same group of people who persecuted Witchers and advocated for the protection of endangered magical creatures.
Of course, Lydia didn't believe in this. She trusted more in the theory of magical tides.
The world today just happened to be in the low point of the magic tide.
"But why are they doing this?" Lydia asked.
"Yes..." Vilgefortz sighed again. "Why are they doing this? Why modify a prophecy that has no effect on reality?"
"The prophecy of the elder blood of the First Ones can only be found in fragments from the ancient elven tombs..."
"Why?"
Murmuring the question, Vilgefortz lowered his head, lost in thought.
Lydia didn't rush to interrupt his thoughts. Instead, after thinking for a few seconds, she asked, "So, do you think the prophecy about the Son of Miracle is actually fake, fabricated by someone?"
Vilgefortz looked up, paused in silence for a few seconds, then shook his head, "I don't know."
"But everything has a sequence. There can only be one true prophecy of Ithlinne. If one is true, the other must be false, unless..."
"Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Impossible," Vilgefortz laughed bitterly and shook his head, denying it. "If it's not true, then it's false. How could the Goddess of Fate allow two divergent streams to exist simultaneously? What could possibly make fate ignore such a contradictory flaw..."
He spoke somewhat vaguely, but Lydia understood. "So, you think that Witcher is not the Son of Miracle."
Vilgefortz remained silent for a moment, then nodded. "I really hope he is. After all, this is the closest we've ever been to transcendence, only a fourteen-year-old Witcher away from that legendary, magnificent realm..."
"But Miguel, at the time, even though he was driven nearly mad by the pressure, his deduction was correct."
"Compared to a Witcher..."
"Although, at fourteen years old, he made me feel the threat of death and went through a series of legendary experiences."
"But compared to his causing the tragic death of the Glutton, the convergence of the celestial spheres, the bloody war between Aedirn and Kaedwen, and the Wild Hunt destroying Ban Ard..."
"The elves are the most likely culprits behind all of it."
Vilgefortz looked dejectedly out the window.
The starry sky hung low, and the bright moon hung at the top of a distant tower, like the most beautiful crescent moonstone in the world.
"Lydia," Vilgefortz turned to look at the plain-faced sorceress, "I mistook the reflection on the lake's surface for the stars of the night sky..."
"Just when I was studying the elder blood and the Son of Miracle, a Witcher genius suddenly appeared, and I forced him to fit into the prophecy..."
Lydia, seeing the sadness on Vilgefortz's face, couldn't help but interrupt. "But in Ithlinne's stars, there's no trace of him."
"I know, that's why I'm so troubled." He sighed deeply and stood up.
Looking at the messy desk, Vilgefortz waved his right hand.
A pile of chiffon paper, covered in strange symbols, spontaneously ignited without fire. In an instant, it floated into the air, becoming a huge fireball, and it didn't affect the large oak desk at all.
"But I've been thinking about it these past few days," Vilgefortz continued, "Allen is Vera's apprentice, and as everyone knows, Vera once had a very close relationship with those elves. She even had one or two magical items that could shield against ancient elven detection spells. It's quite normal."
After speaking, Vilgefortz looked at Lydia, seeming unwilling to discuss the Son of Miracle further, and shifted the topic. "Lydia, is there something you need from me?"
Lydia, with a complex expression, stared at the blazing fire on the desk. After a brief silence, she spoke: "I just received some news..."
"Hmm~" Vilgefortz hummed, sitting back in his high-backed chair.
His back was straight, resting against the velvet chair, and the dancing flames reflected in his blue eyes.
"Haley from Aretuza told me that there was a summoning ritual in Ellander, six monster nests offering sacrifices for the arrival of an dark god..."
"How does Haley from Aretuza know about Ellander?" Vilgefortz became curious.
"Tissaia de Vries, following the ancient Novigradian Union, went to drive away the dark god..."
"Ban Ard didn't receive a request for help... Well, male sorcerers are too busy with their own problems, how could they help with Ellander's pressure? No wonder they didn't send an invitation," Vilgefortz spoke sarcastically when mentioning Ban Ard, as if he wasn't one of Ban Ard's male sorcerers.
"So..."
"Did they fail? Did the dark god arrive in Ellander, and Haley sent you to ask for help?"
Vilgefortz tapped his index finger on the oak desk, thinking aloud, "Tissaia de Vries is a respected senior, and I will try to persuade Sunny, but at this time, Ban Ard can't do anything either..."
"No," Lydia interrupted helplessly.
The results of Vilgefortz's week of work had turned to ash on the desk.
Lydia softly said, "They succeeded. The dark god did arrive, but was successfully driven away."
"Six monster nests, the dark god arrived, and was successfully driven away?" Vilgefortz's finger tapping the desk suddenly faltered for a second. "Did Tissaia de Vries drive it away? What kind of magic did she use?"
"But even if such magic could be cast, it must come at a great cost, right?"
"Is Tissaia really... uh... selfless like that?"
"Not the dean," Lydia lightly shook her head, "It was a Witcher you also know..."
"A Witcher?" Vilgefortz was stunned for a moment.
Lydia didn't keep him guessing, glancing at the ashes in midair that no longer resembled chiffon paper, she sighed, "It was Allen, the Wolf School Witcher, the one you thought was the Son of Miracle."
Vilgefortz's eyes widened in disbelief, and he suddenly stood up from his high-backed chair, "It really was Allen? He drove the dark god away? How did he do it?"
"I don't know the specifics," Lydia replied, "Haley only saw a white light, and then an explosion even more astonishing than a master-level spell."
"By the way, Allen also tamed a royal griffin."
Vilgefortz felt his mind was in a bit of chaos.
A Witcher... drove away an dark god... and created a noise more shocking than a master-level spell...
How did all these elements come together?
Vilgefortz had doubts that Lydia was telling him lies, but looking at the calm yet serious expression on her face, he knew she was telling the truth.
At least the news she received from Haley, the sorceress from Aretuza, was real.
"Allen..."
"Allen..."
Vilgefortz muttered the name of the Wolf School Witcher, his eyes becoming brighter as if in madness.
Aretuza's strength, even with Ellander's local army and priests, would have almost no possibility of driving away a summoning ritual with six monster nests...
And a Witcher, who only knew how to wield a sword and cast simple signs, how could he possibly create a noise greater than a master-level spell?
Moreover, a Witcher driving away an dark god, that was something that simply couldn't happen...
Impossible... Impossible... Impossible...
So many impossibilities, yet they turned into reality.
If this isn't a miracle, then what is it?
The more Vilgefortz thought about it, the more he felt that, compared to the illusory concept of the elder blood, the Son of Miracle seemed more grounded in reality.
Perhaps the reason the concept of elder blood became the Son of Miracle was because Ithlinne herself changed it while she was still alive...
He had actually thought of this idea before, but it seemed too casual, too far-fetched. But still, it wasn't impossible. After all, Ithlinne was an immortal elf, with a lifespan of at least a few hundred years.
He became excited, about to sit back down and go over the research trajectory from the past few days to rethink his approach...
The ashes, having lost their magical control, slowly floated down from midair.
Vilgefortz's body immediately stiffened.
The results of his week's work had turned to ash.
"Your speed of casting is too fast."
Seeing the stiff gaze that Vilgefortz gave him, Lydia smiled apologetically.
"No matter," Vilgefortz sighed gracefully, "Just a few days' work... that's all..."
"Wait..."
Vilgefortz suddenly had a flash of inspiration, remembering Lydia's earlier words.
"Lydia, you just said that Allen tamed a royal griffin?"
"That's right," Lydia nodded. "Haley even emphasized that it was Allen, not Vesemir, who tamed the griffin."
Vilgefortz remained silent for a few seconds, shaking his head. "Kaedwen is in trouble. Unfortunately, it's already been almost two weeks, it's too late..."
He was only halfway through speaking when Vilgefortz suddenly stood up, raising his head to look out the window.
Lydia cautiously followed his gaze, but outside the window was just a quiet night sky, with nothing unusual.
"What's wrong, Vigo?"
"The Wild Hunt is back!"
.....
📢Advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
1. 30 advanced chapters of American Comics: Multiverse of Madness.
2. 30 advanced chapters of Warhammer, but Emperor's Chosen.
3. 20 advanced chapters of The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes.