Houghton took the blueprint, glanced at it, and his eyes instantly widened in astonishment: "By the beard of the dwarves!"
"Who designed this beauty for you?"
"I've never made armor like this before!"
"Wyvern skin, Anti-magic Gold, a werewolf's heart, a giant griffin's stomach, venomous spider silk…"
"A perfect blend of flexible and rigid magical materials…"
"Such a crazy idea!"
"This is... this is simply a masterpiece!"
Houghton's eyes sparkled as if he wanted to take them out and roll them over the parchment. His forging skills were world-renowned, but he usually only forged steel full-body armor.
After all, most of his customers were noble knights. As long as the armor looked impressive and could withstand blows from fellow humans, that was enough.
Most of the time, even that wasn't necessary.
"This is a collaboration between Alzur and Brouver Hoog, or rather their techniques," Vesemir explained with a smile, not minding Houghton's reaction. "It's one of the rare masterpieces in the world where steel and flesh are combined."
"Hmph~"
Houghton snorted at this: "Brouver Hoog, that old fool, is not a dwarf king."
"He's just the stubborn, selfish, paranoid, and rigid elder of Mahakam… harder and smellier than a rock in a latrine."
Vesemir chuckled but didn't respond. Brouver Hoog's official title was indeed Elder of Mahakam. However, he held immense power in Mahakam, making him the de facto dwarf king. There were, however, young dwarves who were dissatisfied with his stubborn personality and his almost fanatical obsession with tradition.
Of course.
These were internal dwarf critiques of their leader. Vesemir, being an outsider, naturally wouldn't foolishly join in with Houghton to comment. Moreover, Houghton only denied Brouver Hoog's title, not Vesemir's praise of the Wolf School's master armor as a "masterpiece."
After a while, Houghton finally put down the blueprint with a sigh: "Tsk tsk, this armor… this armor isn't something just anyone can create!"
"That old bastard Brouver really has a way with forging!"
"What's the matter, Houghton?" Vesemir crossed his arms and smiled. "Can't you make it?"
Houghton snapped his head back, his long beard whipping around in an arc like a whip. He loudly retorted: "Can't make it? Are you joking? There's no armor in this world that I can't make!"
"But let me be clear, even considering our friendship and this beautiful masterpiece, I can only offer a fifty percent discount…"
Houghton began counting on his thick fingers: "Hmm... let me see... gloves, breastplate, trousers, boots... it'll take me at least two months. Half-price, that's twelve thousand orens, but for you, I'll do it for ten thousand orens!"
"So expensive!"
Even with a fifty percent discount, the cost of crafting was still ten thousand orens?
Mary's eyes widened in shock, and she covered her mouth.
"Expensive?" Houghton sneered.
"That's just my forging fee. As for all the materials listed in the blueprint, I only have the Anti-magic Gold, and that'll be extra…"
"As for the pelts, hearts, and blood of magical creatures, I can't get those for you…"
"Tsk tsk… Wyvern skin… except for dragons, wyverns are the most formidable large magical creatures in the world!"
"Werewolves, griffins, venomous spiders... they're not weak either, and their numbers are dwindling nowadays…"
Ding!
Main Quest Unlocked: Master Witcher's Shield (Hunt 0/5 Wyverns, 0/5 Werewolves, 0/5 Griffins, 0/5 Venomous Spiders, Gather 0/10 Refined Anti-magic Gold Plates)
The sense of déjà vu was so strong that Allen's mind almost tricked him into hearing the quest activation sound. Instinctively, he focused his thoughts and opened the quest log in his Witcher's Journal. But to his surprise, the quests were still the usual hunts for drowners, ghouls, foglets, and specters.
"Strange, no new quests were triggered," Allen thought.
By all logic, this was the standard quest activation dialogue.
What should follow next would be a journey across mountains and borders, searching for these magical creatures from cities to villages.
After that, there would be fierce battles, slaying these monsters, and finally, returning to forge his legendary Wolf School armor set.
"What's wrong, Allen?"
Vesemir's voice interrupted his train of thought.
"Nothing," Allen snapped out of it.
Vesemir gave him a curious glance but didn't press further. He pulled Allen along as they left Houghton's house, saying: "Come with me, quickly."
------------------
There was no exploitation class within the Wolf School. The higher a Witcher's "rank," the more money they actually had to pay.
Witcher apprentices, Witchers, Master Witchers, and the School's leader.
Witcher apprentices were purely trained without tuition.
After passing the trials and becoming full-fledged Witchers, as long as they stayed in Kaer Morhen, they were required to pay one-fifth of their yearly contract earnings at the end of each year.
Master Witchers had to pay half.
And the leader? That's another story entirely. Essentially, all the bounty they earned from contracts went into the school's development.
Of course.
These were all unofficial rules.
Even if a Witcher didn't pay their "taxes" at year's end, the school wouldn't expel them or enforce any punishment. Yet, no one had ever tried to avoid paying.
On the contrary, many Witchers would leave just enough money for survival at the start of the new year, handing over their entire year's earnings to the school.
It was understandable.
After all, Witchers couldn't have children. For a profession so dangerous, material wealth alone couldn't sustain a lifetime of slaughter. The Wolf School was their home, and every apprentice who passed the trials was like their child.
While such feelings were a bit abnormal, relationships in this world—between humans and even other species—were inherently twisted.
Thus.
The greatest material reward a Witcher could receive from the school in their lifetime was the armor they obtained when they became a Master Witcher.
Yes.
The cost of crafting the Wolf School Master set was entirely covered by the school. Allen didn't need to spend a single oren.
Including the materials.
----------------
"Wow!"
"The smooth, shiny, almost silken fur…"
Ding—
"The clear, crisp sound…"
"Hiss~"
"The strong scent of blood and gore…"
Houghton hopped around like a child among the various materials spread out on the ground, muttering excitedly to himself. After a while, he finally looked at Vesemir, flushed with excitement: "Vesemir, where did you get such premium materials?"
"Not only is the wyvern skin completely intact, but the magic nodes on the werewolf heart and the circuits on the griffin's stomach…"
"All the monster materials are of the highest quality."
Vesemir laughed heartily and patted Houghton on the shoulder: "These materials were contributed by the master witchers of the Wolf School. Those wyvern hides even come from the personal collection of the head, Sol..."
"Of course, they're all top-notch, the finest quality!"
"No wonder!" Houghton sighed deeply.
He glanced at the young witcher master, Allen, who was staring dumbfounded at the various monster materials on the ground.
Filled with emotion.
"These high-grade materials must be worth at least a hundred thousand Orens!"
"The gear you're wearing now is made of materials far inferior to these!"
"By the beard of a dwarf, you guys sure are generous!"
Houghton's comparison didn't spark jealousy or dissatisfaction in Vesemir. He squinted his eyes with a broad smile, as if recalling something, and shook his head: "No!"
"Our gains far exceed our investments!"
"Far exceed..."
Houghton was stunned for a moment.
"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.
"Nothing," Vesemir pulled down his wide-brimmed black hat and smiled mysteriously, "The materials are all here, my esteemed Master Houghton. Is there anything else we need to prepare?"
The dwarf master blacksmith's face darkened at being teased. However, when he heard the mention of materials, his dwarf nature quickly redirected his attention back to the smooth wyvern hides.
"Nothing else needs to be prepared."
"With such excellent materials, I can hardly imagine the suit that will be forged. Its resistance to piercing, blunt force, slashing, and monster damage will be outstanding!"
"Oh, right..." Houghton suddenly remembered something: "I can't engrave magical runes, you'll need an alchemist for that."
"No worries, Lady Vera will take care of the rune engravings," Vesemir said casually.
Houghton was taken aback.
The Red Fox is handling the rune engravings?
That's quite an overqualification!
And her fees must be at least eight or nine times higher than mine...
Has the Wolf School become this wealthy?
In shock, he glanced at Mary, then at Allen, and after pondering for a moment, he revealed a knowing smile: "Tsk tsk~"
"I have a feeling this armor might be the finest work of my life."
Vesemir smiled and patted the dwarf's shoulder: "I have no doubt about that!"
The thought of creating such a magnificent piece made Houghton's blood boil. With a voice filled with the smoky and gritty tone of his people, he roared at Allen: "Hahahahaha——"
"Come on, Master Allen."
"Take off all your clothes and let me carefully measure your size!"
--------------
In the royal city of Ard Carraigh, the capital of Kaedwen.
Inside the king's study, in the once-large chair of Haxo, a young man's face was pale with anger. He glared across the black oak table at an elderly man dressed in luxurious robes: "Duke Donato, don't you think your words are absurd?"
"What's absurd?" The old man maintained a respectful expression, but his tone was calm and indifferent, "His Majesty the King once entrusted a few witchers from the Cat School to carry out some tasks."
"If I recall correctly, it was you who conveyed the king's orders at the time!"
"Humans hunt wolves, and wolves fight back; isn't that obvious?"
"My dear prince..."
Lado's face darkened. The task his father had given him to seek out the Cat School witchers was known only to a few. And it certainly didn't include this manipulative noble before him. Moreover, he was about to ascend the throne, yet the man still called him "prince"...
Was this damned Donato trying to use the throne to threaten him?
Though burning with anger inside, the sudden death of his father and the ensuing chaos had left him no choice but to suppress his fury:
"The Wolf School is certainly suspicious."
"But Lord Donato, we are not ignorant peasants. You and I both know the effects of witcher signs."
"They could not possibly have caused the Conjunction of the Spheres..."
"Not necessarily!" The old man interrupted, though his expression remained humble, like a steel mask draped in human skin.
"The Wolf School witchers may not be able to, but that doesn't mean the people they know can't..."
"Wasn't there news that the Red Fox is now living in the wolf's den, sharing whispers with the head wolf?"
"Perhaps she's the one behind this Conjunction of the Spheres?"
Lado was growing impatient: "So you're suggesting that a sorceress not only infiltrated the heavily guarded Ban Ard without anyone noticing, but also managed to perform a Conjunction of the Spheres spell right under the noses of several world-renowned sorcerers?"
"It's not impossible." The old man nodded slowly.
Lado laughed in exasperation: "I asked Lady Tissaia of Aretuza, and even if a sorcerer had the ability to trigger a Conjunction of the Spheres..."
"To cause one as massive as the one during my father's death, it would require an extensive and complicated ritual."
"Are you suggesting that someone, other than the sorcerers of Ban Ard, could spend days setting up such a ritual on their turf without being discovered?"
Did Lado not realize that from a motive standpoint, the Wolf School was the most suspicious?
But just the complexity of setting up the ritual made it impossible for anyone outside Ban Ard to have done it. The old man stared silently at the future king of Kaedwen for a few seconds. He didn't mention the rumors that Tissaia and Vera were both sorceresses and had a close relationship.
Though he didn't know whether the Conjunction of the Spheres event required a ritual or not. Such basic knowledge, however, would not be a lie Tissaia could get away with, even if she were close to Vera.
"Your Highness, be careful with your words!"
"Are you suggesting Ban Ard was responsible for the king's death?"
"You must remember, when it came to the destruction of Kaer Morhen, they stood on the same side as the king."
"What benefit would they gain from killing the king?"
The old man's expression remained respectful, but his grim smile sent a chill through the room. Without waiting for Lado's response, he stood up.
"Apologies, Your Highness."
"I'm not feeling well, so I'll take my leave."
"The noble council meets the day after tomorrow; we can continue this discussion then."
With that, the old man leaned on his ornate black cane, supported by his attendant, and slowly made his way toward the door.
"Duke Donato, will you support me the day after tomorrow?" Lado suddenly asked.
The old man paused for a moment, but didn't turn back: "Of course, I hope to support you, my prince!"
Then.
"Tap~ Tap~ Tap~"
The sound of the cane striking the floor grew fainter.
"Hope to support..."
Lado murmured to himself, attempting to place his hands on the armrests, but found only empty space. This wasn't the chair he was used to. It was too large, too spacious. His hand fell on the cold surface of the table. Lado closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.
....…
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
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?
226. Vesemir Doesn't Understand, but He's Greatly Shocked.