Chereads / The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes / Chapter 219 - 220. Time to Take Off Your Leather Armor!

Chapter 219 - 220. Time to Take Off Your Leather Armor!

The first ray of morning sunlight broke through the misty mountains.

Clang!

A strange noise echoed. An orange-red portal appeared in the middle of the camp. A Witcher, carrying two swords and wearing a black wide-brimmed hat, stepped through the portal with a large pack of items.

The "kidnapping" of sorcerer Ban Ard was no trivial matter. One wrong move could bring immense trouble to the school. So, when Vesemir returned to Kaer Morhen, the school's head and several Witcher masters still at the fortress quickly gathered. They surrounded the unconscious sorcerer and had a heated discussion throughout the night.

Despite the intensity of their debate, no one was foolish enough to suggest releasing Tomas Moreau and Makarov.

The Witcher masters, who had already heard from the head about the injustices the Wolf School Witchers suffered at Ban Ard's hands, knew there was no chance they could compromise with the sorcerers for the sake of the school's survival.

The heated debate centered on whether to kill them...

Or, as Allen suggested, find a place to imprison them.

The latter option clearly carried much more risk than the former.

Although Kaer Morhen was equipped with a few blocks of dimeritium, which could be used to make shackles that suppressed magic, every renowned sorcerer had an array of unpredictable tricks up their sleeves.

No one could guarantee that, even with the dimeritium shackles, the two sorcerers wouldn't find a way to escape or send out information.

Allen's idea of uncovering the second mutation process was unheard of and seemed hardly worth the risk compared to the dangers the school faced.

However.

Since Vesemir had returned, it meant that everyone had finally reached a consensus. They agreed to imprison the two sorcerers for now. This decision was thanks to Vesemir's exhausting arguments, as well as Allen's remarkable performance in the apprentice tournament incident.

Of course, the potions and skills Allen created, and the usually conservative head's support, were the most crucial factors.

Ugh~

The exhaustion from staying awake all night, coupled with the Witcher's unique "portal syndrome," caused Vesemir to feel faint the moment he stepped out of the portal. He bent over slightly and dry-heaved.

"I should have had Allen keep watch last night."

Vesemir thought to himself.

Who could have predicted Lady Vera would arrive so quickly...

He sighed softly and straightened up, immediately spotting Allen, sitting with his eyes closed in meditation...

And Mary, fast asleep, leaning on his shoulder. The campfire had long since gone out, and golden petals were scattered around the two of them. Under the greenish oak tree not far away, the pair resting together appeared particularly harmonious and natural.

Watching this scene, Vesemir couldn't help but smile. The discomfort from the portal faded significantly.

"Ah, to be young!" he sighed.

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

Not long after Vesemir's return, Allen also opened his eyes from meditation. Seeing Vesemir packing things up, he intended to get up and help.

"Shh~"

The Witcher master noticed and signaled for Allen to stay seated and continue being a human pillow. Feeling Mary's breathing against his face, Allen helplessly watched Vesemir busily pack up on his own.

It wasn't until Vesemir finished packing the tents and other materials, securing them to his horse, that Mary finally woke up.

"Ah~"

Yawning as she awoke from her sweet dreams, Mary stretched and, with sleepy eyes, opened one eye in surprise.

"When did Master Vesemir return?"

"While you were asleep!" Allen stood up and stretched.

"Asleep?"

Mary was stunned for a second. Then she noticed the damp patch on the young Witcher's neck, and her face flushed bright red. She quickly pulled a silk handkerchief from her sleeve and began wiping Allen's neck.

"S-sorry, I must've fallen asleep…"

"It's nothing."

Allen shook his head, not making a big deal out of it. It was a trivial matter, after all. She had come all this way to help; what's a little drool on him?

Besides.

They'd been traveling non-stop, and he had only wiped himself down with river water. Allen's clothes weren't particularly clean either. It was a wonder Mary had even managed to fall asleep leaning on him last night.

"Alright, time to set off."

Vesemir brought over Allen's small mare, "Carrot," as well as Bogdan's horse.

"There'll be plenty of time for flirting on the road!" Vesemir teased the two young people standing close together.

"Master Vesemir!" Mary blushed and scolded playfully.

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

By noon.

Allen, Vesemir, and Mary finally rode into Vergen. The city wasn't large, about half the size of Ban Ard. It only took about half an hour to walk from the north gate to the south gate.

However.

Vergen's architecture, entirely different from human designs, was even more unforgettable than the towering spires of Ban Ard. This city was carved directly from the rocks. The walls, houses, and streets all seemed to have grown out of the mountain itself.

Rough, bold, wild…

Just like the bearded dwarves passing by them.

Yes.

Even though Vergen was located within the human kingdom of Aedirn, it was actually a dwarven settlement. Even the city's lord was the only non-human noble in Aedirn—Dwarven Baron Houghton Qui-Gon.

"Hahaha~"

"Long time no see, Master Vesemir!"

A brown-bearded dwarf, only as tall as Vesemir's chest, laughed heartily as he clapped the Witcher on the waist.

"It's been a while, Houghton."

Vesemir removed his black wide-brimmed hat, grinning as he nodded at the dwarf. It was clear they were old friends. After a brief greeting, Vesemir stepped aside to reveal Allen and Mary standing behind him.

"And who might these two be?" Houghton asked curiously.

"This is sorceress Margarita Laux-Antille," Vesemir smiled, looking at Mary, "the Scarlet Fox, Lady Vera's apprentice, now traveling with us."

Mary clasped her hands in front of her and slightly bowed her head. Her posture was humble, a rare display of modest elegance. But anyone could tell she took pride in being Vera's apprentice.

Upon hearing Lady Vera's name, Houghton instantly straightened up with respect: "Greetings, Lady Margarita."

"I am Houghton Qui-Gon, Lord of Vergen. It's an honor to have you here in our city…"

"And please convey my respects to Lady Vera."

"I will," Mary nodded slightly.

Her large eyes sparkled with pride as she glanced at the young Witcher beside her. She didn't need telepathy; Allen understood her thoughts. The title "Lady Margarita" might as well have been carved into her forehead.

"Allen..." Vesemir patted the young witcher's shoulder and solemnly introduced him to Houghton: "Witcher Master Allen, who has so far killed five large monsters, two of which he hunted alone..."

"Drowners, ghouls, wraiths... the other monsters that have fallen by his hand are countless..."

The duel between the apprentices of the Wolf School and the Cat School was now over. During the competition, many sorcerers witnessed Allen hunting two large monsters by himself. There was no longer any need to hide it.

When they left Kaer Morhen this morning, Vesemir and several Witcher Masters had agreed upon a decision. As of today, the Wolf School officially recognized Allen's status as a Witcher Master.

In the coming days, letters would be sent to the other Witcher schools, as well as to the nobles allied with the Wolf School. As for his achievements, to avoid complications, the school deliberately omitted Allen's kills of the Drowner King and the Cyclops in Kaer Morhen from the letters.

They only mentioned the monsters he killed in the arena at Ban Ard, in full view of the public.

"A Witcher Master?"

Houghton was taken aback upon hearing this, carefully examining the young witcher from head to toe. No matter how he looked, he saw nothing special.

No bulging muscles, no thick, bushy beard.

Just an ordinary witcher kid.

"Vesemir, are you joking with me?"

"He's just a child. By your witcher standards, he's probably only just passed those deadly trials..."

"Though we're on good terms, this joke isn't very funny!"

"You'll ruin this kid's future!"

Houghton furrowed his brow, his gruff voice booming like thunder. Other dwarves, elves, and humans on the street turned to look.

"This is no joke, my dwarven friend!" Vesemir shook his head with a hearty laugh.

"Allen is indeed a Witcher Master. In a few days, when the news reaches Vergen, you'll know."

"But you're right, Allen is also my apprentice."

When did I say this kid was your apprentice?

Houghton scratched his head in confusion. But soon, he noticed the key point in Vesemir's words.

"News?"

"What news?"

Houghton asked curiously.

"The news of the duel between the Cat School and the Wolf School apprentices, and..."

Vesemir put on his black wide-brimmed hat, his smile fading.

"The news of the king's death..."

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

Though humans also lived in Vergen alongside the dwarves, the place was still technically a vassal of the human kingdom of Aedirn. However, when the kings of Ban Ard died, none of the carrier pigeons sent by the sorcerers to spread the news would have flown toward Vergen.

After all, dwarves were excellent warriors. Their granite-like bodies seemed to naturally repel chaotic magic. Only a rare few had any talent for casting spells, and those gifted ones certainly wouldn't go to Ban Ard for education. So, hearing Vesemir's news, Houghton was a bit dazed.

"Your duel with the Cat School, I knew about, but the king's death?"

"Is this some new play from Kaedwen?"

"These human actors... they've gone mad..."

"It's no play, Houghton, no play..." Vesemir interrupted. "King Henselt of Kaedwen, also known as 'The Glutton,' is dead!"

"He died at Ban Ard..."

"Died in the sorcerers' arena stands..."

After hearing Vesemir recount the events of the duel between the Wolf and Cat Schools, Houghton's eyes were as wide as saucers, his face full of disbelief.

A few seconds later.

"That..." Houghton, in surprise, pulled out a tuft of his own beard without even noticing, "That's truly unexpected..."

"To think that butcher Henselt... would meet such an end..."

Houghton's voice was complex. Henselt hated and persecuted non-humans. Although his primary targets were elves, many of Houghton's dwarven and gnome friends had also died under Henselt's brutal regime.

After a long pause, Houghton gathered his thoughts and looked seriously at Vesemir.

"Thank you, Vesemir."

"This news is important to me!"

With Henselt's death, before a new king could ascend the throne, Kaedwen would undoubtedly enforce martial law for a long time. Relations between the nobles and sorcerers would become delicate.

As the lord of Vergen, knowing this news early would help him save his people from much potential harm. He might even make a profit.

"Houghton, we're friends!" Vesemir shook his head slightly.

"Indeed, we are friends."

The dwarf nodded earnestly, then looked at Allen.

"Well, let's see what I, as your friend, can do for a newly minted Witcher Master."

"Come inside, honored guests. Please, make yourselves at home."

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

As soon as they stepped into the stone house, they were greeted by a sight of various armors and weapons. Each piece radiated a murderous aura, gleaming with a cold light. The temperature of the entire room seemed to be a few degrees colder than outside. Seeing Allen and Mary's curiosity, Vesemir introduced: "Houghton Qui-gon, the finest master blacksmith outside the Mahakam Mountains..."

Mahakam, located between Temeria and Aedirn, was the dwarven nation. Technically, Mahakam was a vassal of Temeria. But due to its strategic terrain and the world's dependence on its metal goods, it maintained political and cultural independence.

Not only did it produce the best iron ore in the world, but the dwarven craftsmen of Mahakam were also renowned for their unmatched skill.

"Actually, even in Mahakam, aside from the old geezers in the Council of Elders, no dwarf can match my craftsmanship."

"I swear it on my beard!"

Houghton stroked his long beard and proudly added.

Vesemir shrugged, neither confirming nor denying: "The King of Aedirn, it was for Houghton's craftsmanship that he granted him the title of baron and gave him this mountain of Vergen as his fief..."

Houghton added again: "Actually, it was that sneaky little rat Demavend II who lured me here with tricks."

"He had someone steal my favorite hammer, and while I was looking for it, he also stole my furnace and anvil..."

"I had no choice but to agree to that rogue king's request..."

Allen and Mary exchanged bewildered glances. The young witcher had a lot to say but didn't know where to start.

However...

A master blacksmith...

Allen's eyes began to shine.

As expected...

Vesemir pulled out a piece of parchment from inside his leather armor and handed it to the dwarf. Then he turned to his apprentice, smiling: "Allen, it's time to replace that outdated leather armor of yours!"

....…

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221. Quickly Take Off All Your Clothes, Let Me Measure Your Size!

222. Loyalty! Loyalty?

223. The Monster that Brings Doom.

224. The Staff Belongs to Allen.

225. Want to Enter Stage Two? Have You Asked Me First?