Chereads / The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes / Chapter 253 - 254. The Echo of Falka.

Chapter 253 - 254. The Echo of Falka.

"The old Duke?" Ianna raised her eyebrow. "Did he say why he's looking for me?"

"No," Lysa shook her head.

But then she seemed to remember something and added: "However, when the priest of Nenneke received him, I think he mentioned the May Festival. Could it be related to that holiday?"

"Ah!" Ianna suddenly realized, slapping her forehead. "That makes sense! The May Festival is here..."

As she spoke, Ianna glanced at Allen.

"If you have something to do, go ahead. I'll just stay here and read by myself," Allen also stood up, preparing to see her off.

Unexpectedly, Ianna pondered for a few seconds, then patted Allen's shoulder, saying: "You should come along too. It's not often you get a chance to meet a Duke."

The witcher was slightly taken aback but didn't refuse. He followed Ianna out of the sanctuary.

"Tap, tap, tap~"

Walking through the corridor. The sound of footsteps echoed between the pure white marble walls.

"By the way, have you heard that voice again in the last few days?" Ianna asked.

"No," Allen shook his head. "Every night's meditation has been smooth."

"That's good," Ianna nodded.

The corridor wasn't long. After a few words, they arrived at the entrance to the sanctuary.

After descending the holy white steps, just a few steps away was a path paved with colorful stones. There was a distinct boundary between the steps and the path. Previously, Allen had experienced something strange there.

He had been staying in the sanctuary these past few days, with Lysa delivering his meals, so he wasn't entirely sure about his condition now. Subconsciously, he slowed his pace.

"Good child, it's alright," Ianna also stopped. "I've already checked just now. The evil mark within you has disappeared."

After Allen nodded, he stepped forward.

"Tap, tap~"

Both boots stepped onto the gravel path.

Nothing happened.

Not only did nothing unusual occur, but even the soul-crushing weight he had felt the first time he crossed the threshold was gone. There was no difference between stepping forward and stepping back.

"Whew~"

The witcher let out a sigh of relief.

Ianna carefully examined Allen's face for a few seconds, and after confirming there were no abnormalities, she squinted her eyes and kindly patted Allen's shoulder:

"Just in case, when you return, you'll need to stay in the sanctuary for another three days. Understand?"

Allen nodded.

Even if Ianna asked him to leave, he wouldn't. It wasn't just because he hadn't finished learning the ritual. The shard of Ard Gaeth's gate was still being absorbed, and the Mirage Pearl was still dormant.

Although the progress of both had stalled, it might not necessarily be related to the evil god's gaze, but being cautious was always wise. Crossing the garden in front of the sanctuary, the group continued walking towards the temple gate.

Ianna strolled leisurely, like an old lady taking a slow walk, showing no urgency despite a Duke waiting for her.

"The old Duke is named Mason, Duke of Ellander and Prince of Temeria. He is also a member of King Cedric of Temeria's Royal Council..."

"Oh, by the way... do you know about the Falka Rebellion?"

Ianna tilted her head to look at the witcher.

Allen nodded.

Although he hadn't systematically studied the history of the witcher world, during his time at Kaer Morhen, he had spent quite a bit of time in the library.

He hadn't read much about obscure legends like the hero Zatret from a thousand years ago, but since the Falka Rebellion occurred less than thirty years ago, he had carefully read a book called The Life and Death of Bloody Falka by a scholar from Oxenfurt.

Falka was the child of Redanian King Vridank and his first wife, Beatrix, a lower-class girl from Kovir with half-elf blood.

King Vridank later fell in love with Cerro, so Falka and his mother returned to Kovir. Then, twenty years later, a typical story of an abandoned heir seeking revenge and the throne played out. This cruel drama not only led to the deaths of the Redanian king, queen, and two princes, but it also unexpectedly escalated into a large-scale peasant revolt that spiraled out of control.

The kingdoms of Kovir, Poviss, the Hengfors League, Redania, Temeria, and Kaedwen... nearly the entire northern continent was engulfed in flames. Temeria, apart from Redania, the rebellion's origin, was the country most devastated by the Falka Rebellion.

"Good, no need to explain from the beginning then," Ianna nodded in satisfaction.

"During the Falka Rebellion, the old Duke served under King Goidemar of Temeria, commanding the most elite cavalry..."

"Because of his achievements in battle and his strict, no-nonsense manner, he was nicknamed the 'Iron-Blooded Knight,' a classic military noble."

"So..."

Ianna turned her head to look at Allen: "You don't need to worry that just because he's a great nobleman with his own sorcerer advisor, the old Duke might have interests aligned with Ban Ard..."

"Quite the opposite..."

"There are many rumors about Falka, one of which suggests that the bloodthirsty tyrant's ambition was incited by male sorcerers..."

"In her quest for the throne, she murdered her father, mother, and brother and imprisoned the old Duke's brother and sister-in-law, driving them insane..."

"Because of this, the old Duke has a deep disdain for male sorcerers."

"He was the first in the northern continent to hire a female sorcerer from Aretuza as an advisor..."

Allen understood.

The old Duke of Ellander was a force the School of the Wolf could possibly ally with. Or rather, most of the nobility of Temeria who had experienced the Falka Rebellion could potentially be allied with.

"Swish~"

They crossed a delicate stone bridge built over a waterfall, the noisy sound of water gradually fading behind them.

Ianna glanced at Allen's contemplative face, waiting for him to finish thinking before continuing: "You believe the Wild Hunt is a threat, right? You want to deal with them?"

"The old Duke might be able to offer some help..."

"Of course, that would be after this mission is completed..."

A mission?

Allen caught onto the key word.

"What mission?" he asked.

Ianna replied, "The May Festival is a celebration of the ancient cycle of nature's rebirth, and also a tribute to the god of trees and the god of grain."

"There will be a grand procession around the villages surrounding Ellander, passing by the outskirts of the wilderness forest..."

"So, along the way, we need to perform rituals to ward off monsters and beasts..."

The witcher was stunned.

In a world infested with monsters, tens of thousands of people parading and partying in the wild?

And they even had to pass through the deepest, most monster-infested forests...

What kind of death-wish behavior was this?

Even with rituals to repel monsters, it didn't seem safe.

Ianna saw Allen's concerns and shook her head, saying: "This is necessary, and moreover..."

"It is also a ritual..."

Allen was taken aback when he heard this, about to ask for details, but Ianna raised her hand to stop him.

"The one ahead is the old Duke..." Lysa whispered softly.

It turned out that while the witcher was deep in thought, the three of them had unknowingly almost reached the entrance of the temple.

Amid the crowd coming and going for prayers, healing, and childbirth, stood an old man with hair that had turned white. Despite leaning on a cane, he stood as straight as a blade, as if it were not a cane but a sharp sword he was holding.

He had his back to them, standing outside the temple.

Completely still.

"Priest Nenneke had invited him into the church several times to wait for you, but he refused every time," Lysa explained hurriedly, as if worried that Ianna might think poorly of the priest responsible for receiving the old Duke.

"It's fine," Ianna waved her hand dismissively. "That old stick-in-the-mud always narrow-mindedly thinks Lady Melitele is a goddess for women, not for men..."

"This place is where women come. He wouldn't set foot inside..."

Hmm?

A place only women would come?

Then should I leave?

Allen felt slightly uncomfortable.

His and Vesemir's initial judgment wasn't wrong. Erland did indeed have some hidden rules.

"It's the old Duke's own words, 'A place only women come to,'" Ianna, noticing the problem in her statement, glanced at Allen and added, "But the Lady is not just the goddess of women. She is the mother of all life."

Allen chuckled awkwardly but said nothing.

After a few more steps, the witcher spotted Nenneke.

"Duke Mason, you're so old already, why don't you go inside and sit down while you wait..."

The old Duke remained completely still and silent.

He was like a statue guarding the temple.

It was the first time in all these days that Allen had seen such an expression of helplessness on Nenneke's face.

After a few more words of persuasion, Nenneke raised his head, and when he saw Ianna, Allen could almost see her eyes light up with excitement.

"Archpriestess!" she exclaimed.

At that moment, the statue-like old man leaning on the cane also moved. It was a deeply aged face, furrowed with wrinkles that showed the passage of time. Even his hair was a silver-white, with patches of baldness.

Yet the sharp contours of his features and the proud bridge of his nose showed that the old Duke must have been quite handsome in his youth.

"Old stick-in-the-mud, how many times have I told you, Lady Melitele is the mother of all things, not just a goddess of women..." Ianna complained lightly.

The old Duke let out a faint grunt. But he waited until she had finished her complaints before he let out a short sound from his nose: "Let's go!"

He never once looked at Allen or Lysa standing beside the Archpriestess. However, Ianna, of course, did not overlook Allen.

She lightly patted the witcher's right arm and looked at the old Duke, saying, "This is Master Allen of the School of the Wolf. He will be coming with us."

Only then did the old Duke move his eyes slightly without turning his head. He glanced at the witcher, seemed to think for a moment, and asked: "Are you the Blue Death who brought glory to your school at Ban Ard?"

It wasn't a question but a statement.

Allen didn't respond.

Though he heard it clearly, the old Duke didn't give him any time to answer. After nodding to himself, the old Duke simply said, "Good!"

Then he turned and boarded a black carriage, pulled by sleek, pure black horses.

Allen and Lysa exchanged puzzled glances.

"He's always like that, don't worry about him. Let's go," Ianna smiled, and then led the way into the carriage.

After bidding farewell to Lysa, Allen followed.

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

Though the carriage appeared simple on the outside, it was clear that a duke was still a duke. Upon entering the carriage, the atmosphere of wealth and power was unmistakable. Not only was the seating spacious, but the cushions were made of soft black velvet. There was even a small ice chest beside them.

As Allen entered the carriage, he saw the old Duke using a silver spoon to scoop a piece of ice into a glass of red wine.

And then silence.

A journey of silence.

Even Ianna did not speak, as though she had long grown accustomed to it.

It wasn't until the carriage descended the mountain and arrived at the gates of Erland that there was a knock at the carriage door.

'Knock knock~'

The door to the carriage was gently tapped.

"Duke Mason, the witcher army is ready," an officer wearing black iron armor opened the door and reported to the Duke with his head lowered.

Through the half-open door, Allen squinted and spotted a troop of about fifty soldiers, all donned in the same black iron armor. Each soldier was holding a strange long weapon, resembling ancient axes or halberds from Allen's previous life.

And the sharp edges of these peculiar weapons gleamed with silver light.

They were likely silver-coated. Moreover, many of the soldiers had what appeared to be nets hanging from their waists.

"So this is how the nobility arms themselves against monsters?" Allen thought to himself.

At that moment, Allen suddenly felt a gaze sweep over him. Following the sensation, he found that the gaze belonged to the old Duke.

"No need!" The Duke glanced at Ianna as well.

"Alright, I'll order them to follow us... hmm?" The officer's tone faltered, hesitantly glancing at the old Duke's expressionless face.

"I said there's no need. Dismiss them. I've got..." The Duke glanced at the stunned witcher, then at the smiling Archpriestess, "Master Allen of the School of the Wolf with me. He will handle my safety..."

"Isn't that right, Blue Death?"

Who came up with this embarrassing title that could make one dig a copper mine with their bare hands?

Wait!!!

How could a Duke so casually entrust his personal safety to him?

Allen's blue cat-like eyes widened.

"Of course, there's no problem..." It was Ianna, smiling brightly, who spoke, "We'll leave our safety in your hands, Master Allen."

"No, no, Duke... Your Grace... this is... this is too dangerous!" The officer, growing desperate at the sight of the Duke and Archpriestess trusting such a young witcher, began to stammer.

But the Duke didn't look at him. His thin lips pressed together as he stared into the witcher's eyes. The words Allen had been planning to say in refusal were suddenly stuck in his throat.

After staring at the Duke for a few seconds, and then glancing at the smiling Archpriestess, Allen's body relaxed as he gave a slight nod.

"Of course, I will ensure both of your safety."

A gleam of appreciation flashed through the Duke's stern, dark eyes.

"No... no... do you even know what you're saying?" The officer glared at the young witcher, as if he were ready to draw his sword and cut down the audacious man right then and there.

But the next moment, the Duke gave the officer a cold look, and the officer immediately bowed his head, not daring to say another word.

"Move out!" the Duke ordered softly.

Clop clop~

The carriage slowly moved forward, leaving the sudden commotion behind in a cloud of dust.

.......

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255. Where's the Ghoul?

256. He Is Already Dead!

257. I, Allen, Declare You the Strongest!

258. We are family, aren't we?

259. The Unavoidable Soft Rice.