Chereads / The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes / Chapter 169 - 170. How Much Does a Wolf Pack Leader Cost?

Chapter 169 - 170. How Much Does a Wolf Pack Leader Cost?

Darkness...

A deep and silent darkness, like the deep sea.

He felt himself sinking, deeper and deeper, as if he was about to reach the bottom of this lightless world. Every drop of blood, every muscle fiber, every bone was pulling him down, as if calling a traveler back home. But he couldn't control his body at all, not even open his eyes, as if he were trapped in a dream and unable to wake up.

He had even forgotten how he arrived in this world.

Why...

Why did I come here?

A thought flashed through his mind, like a match lighting a candle. The soul trapped in darkness suddenly stopped sinking, like a ship anchored in the deep sea, neither moving forward nor backward, neither rising nor falling.

At this moment...

Crack!

In the silence, something seemed to crack open.

A warm white light flashed by.

Kaer Morhen, Vera, Vesemir, Hughes...

Scenes appeared before his eyes, and every time a new scene appeared, he instinctively called out their names in the silence.

And then...

He began to rise.

No... no...

He felt that something was wrong. My mind shouldn't be this empty...

The next moment, Two bright links suddenly appeared, and the joy they brought cleared his mind instantly. The speed of his ascent abruptly increased, as if a rope was pulling him, guiding him. At a certain moment, he suddenly awoke from his slumber and remembered everything.

Wasn't I fighting the stone golem... no... dodging the rock thrown by the rock troll?

Why did I suddenly come here? And where is this place?

The next second.

Roooarrr~

A whale-like sound came from behind, seeming more like a plea but filled with anger. The darkness surrounding him surged with the whale sound, and a massive pressure came from the front, trying to push him back into the abyss.

What's going on?

Allen instinctively struggled, turning and opening his eyes, and immediately froze in place.

A blood-red eye was staring at him.

The eye was so massive that it dwarfed the size of Ban Ard city, and the tiny witcher felt he could reach out and touch its pupil.

Damn it!

What kind of monster is this?

An indescribable terror gripped him, causing him to shrink back continuously, unable to muster any thought of resistance. But the darkness behind him was pressing down, pushing him back down, making it difficult to resist.

Crack!

Another sharp sound rang out.

A blinding white light burst through the darkness. A beam of light, as thin as a finger, shot out from Allen's chest, straight towards the gigantic blood-red eye. Seeing this, Allen felt a tragic sense of futility, as if he were an ant trying to shake a tree.

Until the next moment.

The beam hit the giant eye. The pressure behind Allen suddenly vanished, and his body rapidly distanced itself from the giant eye at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Boom!

The deafening sound was overwhelming.

Allen instinctively closed his eyes, and in a daze, a woman's voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

A young girl, a woman, an old lady.

The age of the voice was indistinguishable, but it carried an unspeakable sense of sacredness and reverence.

She said: "Child of miracles... Aelirenn... quickly..."

Aelirenn's what?

Allen quickly asked in his mind.

She seemed to chuckle and said: "After you wake up... you will know..."

Allen wanted to ask more.

At this moment, He suddenly felt himself surface.

The next moment. A sharp pain struck him, every nerve in his body convulsing violently, every part of his body in agony.

"Ah!"

The kind of pain that seemed to touch the soul made him cry out involuntarily.

"Allen, are you alright?"

A cold, excited female voice came from not far away. Following that was a cool, damp cloth wiping his face, neck, and body. Enduring the headache, Allen opened his eyes. His blurry vision gradually cleared...

Wooden beams, a thatched roof, and blue decorative flowers hanging down...

The air was filled with the scent of herbs, and soft light streamed in from outside the window.

Huh?

Shouldn't I be under Viscount Hudson's abandoned mine?

Where is this?

"This..."

His hoarse voice scratched his throat.

After saying just one word, the burning pain in his tonsils stopped him.

The next second.

Someone gently lifted his head, and the wooden texture of a cup touched his lips. Allen instinctively opened his mouth, like a traveler thirsty for days in the desert, eagerly drinking the sweet water.

Gulp, gulp~

Before he could get enough, the wooden cup was pulled away.

"Granny Asha instructed that you just recovered from a fever and are injured, so you can only drink this much water." The woman said softly.

Who is Granny Asha?

And...

Who are you?

Allen turned his head to look at her. Her skin was as white as snow, smooth as silk, and her eyes were like the purest sapphires, clear and bright. Golden hair cascaded down the witcher's ears, and a pair of small, pink-tinted pointed ears peeked out from the thick strands. As her hair shifted, he caught the scent of white roses mixed with pinewood.

What a beautiful person... an elven maiden.

No wonder she's called the "Daisy of the Valleys," recognized by even sorceresses as the most beautiful woman in the world.

Allen marveled. Although this was the first time he saw Francesca's face without her mask, the moment he saw those sapphire eyes, he recognized her.

"Where is this place?"

After drinking the water, Allen's voice was still hoarse, but he could speak normally. The elven maiden frowned slightly, seeming to be in some sort of dilemma.

"Hey! Is the little one awake?"

A loud voice came from the door.

He turned toward the sound, and a plump middle-aged woman walked in with a smile. With a quick thought, Allen realized this was probably the Granny Asha Francesca had mentioned. Granny Asha's hands trembled slightly as she carried a bowl of black liquid, and seeing Allen sit up, she calmly walked over.

"Little one, you really worried your sister."

Sister?

Allen couldn't help but look at Francesca.

Francesca blushed and turned her head away.

"Boiling medicine, changing bandages, feeding medicine, washing your body, applying ointment..." Granny Asha muttered as she walked over, "Although she was clumsy at first, she learned quickly and earnestly..."

"Ah, if only my rascals at home could be as quiet, well-mannered, and caring as Francesca..."

Quiet and well-mannered?

Quiet?

Are you serious?

And...

Did this clumsy elf really change all these bandages on me?

Allen was stunned for a moment, subconsciously glancing at the clean bandages all over his body, then looked at Francesca in surprise. A blush flared up on her cheeks like fire, and Francesca twisted the hem of her gray linen dress, lowering her head.

Granny Asha kept muttering as she handed the bowl of medicine to Francesca, "If it weren't for your sister these past few days..."

These past few days?

Allen was taken aback. After drinking the bitter medicine, he hurriedly asked in a hoarse voice: "How long have I been here?"

"Three days," replied Granny Asha, thinking he was concerned about his injuries. As she trembled while taking the wooden bowl from him, she added, "Don't worry, little one. Granny Asha learned about herbs and medicine at the Melitele Temple in Ellander. With your injuries, you'll be able to walk in two weeks."

"No need to worry about the medical expenses; the master of this place is kind-hearted. You can stay as long as you need."

"Aen Seidhe, help your brother change his bandages. I need to check on the lady in the castle."

With that, Granny Asha took the bowl and left the room.

Three days?

Three days had already passed!

What about the commission? What happened to that human couple? Did the king and the sorcerer find them?

And Vesemir...

Vesemir and Hughes are probably still waiting for me at the inn. They must be worried sick since I haven't returned for so long...

Allen was completely shocked to hear that three days had already passed. His muddled mind was suddenly bombarded with questions, making his head throb as if it were splitting open.

"Allen, I'll help you change your bandages," Francesca said softly.

"Wait!" Allen rasped, his gaze landing on the leather armor and clothes beside the bed. "Take out the green potion from my reagent pouch and give it to me."

Francesca hesitated for a moment, then obediently retrieved the "Verdant's Sigh" from the pouch. The cold liquid flowed down his throat, and Allen glanced at Francesca. The future queen of the elves looked to be around his age, about fourteen or fifteen years old.

Thinking about how this pampered "princess" had clumsily taken care of him while he was unconscious for the past few days, the anger in Allen's heart dissipated significantly.

Why was he, an adult, getting angry with a child?

Even if that child might be older than him combined across two lifetimes.

"If I start acting strange, don't worry; it's just the normal effects," Allen gently reassured her.

Francesca, who had been bracing for a scolding, was taken aback by the Witcher's soft tone and nodded obediently.

Half a minute later.

The intense pain arrived on schedule, like searing lava coursing through every corner of his body.

Muscles, bones, nerves...

Every part of him was burning, growing.

Allen clenched the gray linen blanket in his mouth, his veins bulging on his forehead, his face twisted in agony, and his entire body trembling uncontrollably. Had he not seen Bond take potions before and mentally prepared himself, he would have screamed by now.

Francesca watched, her brows furrowed, hands twisting together, standing up and sitting down repeatedly as if the chair were lined with needles.

About ten minutes later.

"Phew~"

Allen spat out the linen blanket and exhaled deeply.

"Do... do you still need me to change your bandages?" Francesca asked cautiously.

Seeing that "Daisy of the Valleys" was sweating almost as much as he was, Allen shook his head.

"No need..."

Before he finished speaking, Allen refused Francesca's help, put on his shoes, and stood up.

"I don't think I'll need any more bandages!"

Francesca was stunned. Having cared for the Witcher for three days, changing his bandages daily, she was well aware of the severity of Allen's injuries, which included bruises all over his body and seven fractures.

Granny Asha had said it would take two weeks for him to be able to stand, but realistically, full mobility would require at least a month.

What kind of potion was this?

It had fully healed him with just one dose!

Francesca looked down in contemplation.

Emerald green, as brilliant as the fresh buds of spring...

Almost complete recovery...

She seemed to have a vague impression of it.

"Francesca, where are we? Weren't we in a cave?" Allen's voice interrupted her thoughts.

The Witcher tore off his bandages, cleaned his body, and put on his heavily damaged leather armor, strapping on his sword belt. As he headed towards the door, he asked more questions.

"Creak~"

The wooden door was pushed open by the Witcher. At the same moment, Francesca's slightly odd voice came from behind him.

"White Orchard."

"Granny Asha said this place is called White Orchard."

-------------

Adar Town.

The estate of Count Burns.

"Bang!"

A piece of meat with bone was suddenly thrown into a dish, creating a loud noise.

"What!"

"You say the Royal Guard's soldiers suffered heavy casualties?"

King Kaedwen's furious voice was deafening.

A knight in the Royal Guard's armor knelt on one knee in front of the table, trembling under the king's wrath as he said: "The n... night before last, two thieves sneaked into the camp with ill intentions. When the guards discovered them, they fled deep into the abandoned mine in the camp..."

"...Sir... Sir Leit received the report and immediately took ten Royal Guards and over forty elite guards down into the mine to capture the thieves... But... but..."

"But what?" Henselt roared, "Did they all get wiped out?"

The terrified knight, sweating profusely, cursed the vice-commander for setting him up by sending him to report the battle losses. However, under the king's fierce gaze, he could only continue: "Bu... but, Sir Leit's team happened to encounter a group of enraged rock trolls..."

Swallowing hard, the knight reported the outcome: "Sir Leit and ten knights perished in glory, and the other guards were all slaughtered in the cave."

"The vice-commander sensed something was wrong and sent five scouts, three of whom died, to discover the situation."

"Bang!"

The silver dish filled with roast meat was thrown to the ground. The sauce, tinged with blood, splattered on the knight's face, causing him to bow his head in fear.

"So why am I only hearing about this now?"

"It's already the third day! Is the Royal Guard camp that far from here?"

The king's voice had lowered, but it made the knight even more terrified. He was an old hand in the Royal Guard and knew that at times like this, the king was a madman capable of anything. So he didn't dare to use the vice-commander's excuses to placate Henselt and confessed: "The v... vice-commander thought it would be unwise to report without any results."

"He sent thirty knights, a hundred guards, and two military sorcerers on the second day..."

"And what happened?"

Henselt's anger barely contained, his voice like a lion's growl.

"And... and three knights died, seventy-six guards were killed, eleven knights were severely injured, and the two military sorcerers fled... fled in fear."

The knight bowed his head even lower.

"Well, well, well, just because of two thieves, we've lost fourteen knights and a hundred elite soldiers!"

Henselt slammed back into his chair, his brow furrowed, and stopped asking why he was only now being informed. With such a huge mess, and so many noble sons dead, his dear brother, the vice-commander of the Royal Guard, certainly needed time to use his family connections to smooth things over...

Damn useless fools!

They didn't need to do anything, yet they couldn't even guard the house properly!

"Thud~ thud~"

The silent room was deathly quiet, with only the sound of Henselt's fingers tapping on the table.

A few seconds later, something seemed to occur to him, and his eyes brightened. He then turned his head and called out: "Vole!"

"Go and ask Grandmaster Sol to come here."

The servant named Vole bowed and left the room.

"Dart!"

Henselt stroked the oak table with his right hand, pondering for a moment before giving orders:

"Go ask the Wild Cats how the commission is progressing, and then find out..."

"How much for a lead wolf?"

....…

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171. Old Memories.

172. Mistakenly Entering the Conjunction of the Spheres?

173. We've Arrived.

174. Hunting Mission.

175. The Blood of the Rock Troll.