"Let's raise our glasses together to welcome the slayer of the King of Ice, the Witcher Master in training, Drowner Killer, and Witcher Apprentice, Allen!"
Witcher Danthe stood beside the grand bonfire, raising his glass towards the long table filled with people.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
All the witchers at the forty-person long table cooperated by knocking their glasses against the wooden table. Fragrant wine spilled onto the table, but no one cared. They raised their glasses and drank heartily.
Sitting in the seat closest to the bonfire, Allen also helplessly downed the drink in his glass under everyone's gaze. The untreated head of the "King of Ice" was resting behind his seat, still oozing blood. Before entering the castle hall, the witcher apprentice had asked if they should process the Drowner King's head, but Vesemir beside him had firmly refused.
"Witchers are not nobles or wizards; the smell of iron only makes the wine more fragrant."
Helplessly, the witcher apprentice had to place the monstrous head, half his size, behind his seat in front of everyone, and then took his place at the head of the table.
To be honest, Allen still wasn't quite used to something staring at him from while he was eating. But after a few drinks and the goodwill and warmth from the School of the Wolf witchers, these details were soon forgotten. After a few rounds of drinks, the witchers at the long table teased Allen a bit before realizing he wasn't one to show off, and they tactfully shifted the conversation.
According to tradition, the last witcher to come down from the mountain would bring fresh news from the world below.
"All the fresh news has been told by the others, so I just brought back an interesting book."
"What book? You know not many here are interested in those. Is it another 'A Thousand and One Nights of a Witcher and Some Female Monster'?"
"Hahaha, that would be worth a good read, wouldn't you say, Vesemir?"
The witchers around the table laughed heartily, except for Vesemir, who shook his head helplessly, seemingly familiar with this scene. The witcher who had just returned laughed along, then took out a book. The worn leather cover had crooked writing on it: "Monsters, or Descriptions of Witchers."
A familiar witcher snatched the book and began reading aloud: "To be honest, there is no more foul and unnatural existence than a witcher, for they are the result of vile sorcery and witchcraft..."
The witcher's voice grew lower as he read.
"They are rogues without morals, conscience, or scruples, true demonic creations, with no skills other than killing. Upright people scorn to associate with them..."
The casual chatter gradually stopped, and two or three dozen cat-like eyes stared at the book, their intense gaze almost setting the tattered pages on fire.
"Kaer Morhen, the lair of those shameless creatures, is also the place where they hone their vile skills. We must eradicate that castle, scattering salt and niter on every inch of its land..."
The witcher couldn't continue reading, angrily flipping the book back to the cover, and then quickly flipping through several pages without finding the author's name.
He cursed through gritted teeth: "Cowardly scoundrel, only daring to slander from behind, put your name on it if you have the guts!"
"Why did you bring this rubbish to the table, Kramer?"
"I didn't intend for you to read it all out. I was just going to mention the content briefly," the witcher named Kramer said helplessly.
Then he looked around seriously and said, "I've seen this book in many places now, among peasants, nobles, and even sorcerers... I borrowed this book from a... sorcerer friend..."
"Male sorcerer or female sorcerer?" someone interrupted.
"That's not important, what's important is..."
"Seems like it was a female sorcerer."
"Marco! I'm talking about something serious!" Kramer shouted, standing up with a red face.
"Kramer! I know you're serious, but it doesn't matter."
"We all know this is the slander of wizards, maybe even some unfortunate fool from Ban Ard who lost business to a witcher."
"But so what? We are strong, they are weak, you can't take away their right to whine and complain." Marco also stood up, facing off against Kramer.
"Alright, alright, it's a minor matter, everyone sit down," Vesemir, sitting next to Allen, said, raising his glass to ease the situation. "The School of the Wolf remains neutral; as long as there are monsters in this world, we don't need to care about such idle gossip."
Vesemir seemed to have high authority among the School of the Wolf witchers.
With just two sentences, Marco shook his head and sat down indifferently. After a moment of facial changes, Kramer also reluctantly returned to his seat. The feast continued.
Drinks were exchanged.
Under everyone's urging, Marco and Kramer drank a few more cups, reconciled, and started chatting normally again. Soon, the castle hall was lively again as if nothing had happened.
After another round of drinks, Vesemir, estimating it was getting late, asked Allen to leave early. Before leaving the castle hall, Allen suddenly thought of Letho, the witcher who had left a few days ago. He hadn't completed the Mountain Trial yet, but now he was sitting at the long table in the castle hall.
"I wonder what Letho will think when he finds out about this?"
...
"We must eradicate that castle, scattering salt and niter on every inch of its land..."
After leaving the castle hall, Allen's mind kept echoing this sentence.
Most of the School of the Wolf witchers thought "Monsters, or Descriptions of Witchers" was just the work of weaklings' jealousy and lamentations. But Allen knew it was a declaration of war.
The force or forces planning, writing, and spreading this book were declaring war on the School of the Wolf and all witcher schools. Some might have realized the threat, but unfortunately, most hadn't taken it seriously.
How could the current School of the Wolf witchers believe that the "people" who wrote the book would actually do what they said?
"Salt and niter will be scattered on every inch of this land..."
Allen muttered to himself. Looking around, rows of torches stood along the avenue, illuminating the old fortress that should have been eerie and terrifying. Even in the corners of the ancient sea fortress, the noise from the castle hall conveyed a sense of love and attachment to life.
"I don't like this place," Allen thought.
This place had brought him too much pain. The Trial of Grasses, mushroom soup meals, the deathly pressure of the Mountain Trial, the bloody and violent monster attacks. None of these, whether mental or physical, were what normal people should endure.
"I also don't want this place to be destroyed by others."
Vesemir, Letho, Hughes, Bond, Fred, even Vera and the Chief.
In just a few days, he had remembered many names and been remembered by many. After the Mountain Trial, he could easily find a place to hide and keep to himself.
But.
Would he really be content?
Would he really let this place be reduced to ashes?
.....
📢10 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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41. Essence of the Drowner King's Heart.
42. Affinity.
43. Big Bang.
44. Did Allen Die Again?
45. Where to Go?