Half an hour later, Allen had chased deep into the dense forest. Fortunately, this was just an ordinary forest, and the traces left by the ghoul were easy to identify.
After processing the materials from the ghoul, he carried its head and quickly found the path back to where he came from.
"It's a pity I didn't have time to showcase the Necrophage Oil…" Allen felt a bit regretful, but there would be plenty of opportunities in the future, so he wasn't too anxious to demonstrate the sword oil's effectiveness today. Thus, this thought flashed through his mind and then disappeared.
"I wonder if Ianna and the others encountered any other monsters later…"
The witcher felt a slight worry. However, he did not regret chasing the ghoul for half an hour.
The spoils and treasure were secondary.
If he hadn't eliminated it in time, this ambush-savvy and highly dangerous creature could have caused major trouble for the caravan on its return trip. As he exited the forest, the sun was already setting. The evening glow was fiery red, igniting half the sky.
On the other half, the clouds were tinged with pink hues. Encountering a beautiful scene after a hunt always lifted one's spirits. However, the gradually lowering sun prompted Allen to quicken his pace a little.
Ten minutes later.
After turning a corner, he hurriedly approached the small path.
"Hmm~"
As he passed through a few robust spruce trees, Allen let out a soft exclamation. He saw a large group of people gathered a hundred meters away, seemingly engaged in some activity. The old duke's black carriage was parked right in the middle.
"Are they waiting for me?" Allen wondered, a bit uncertain.
After all, it seemed like everyone had their backs turned to him, making him feel somewhat self-important.
Well~
Not everyone.
At least, as Allen got a bit closer and passed a few people, he spotted Ianna standing by the roadside, constantly gazing in his direction. She occasionally stood on her tiptoes, her face filled with concern.
When Allen got within a hundred meters, Ianna finally relaxed her brow, as if she had let out a sigh of relief, and waved at him.
"Ianna, is the final ritual set up?"
Allen smiled and greeted her.
"It's done; we just came back to find you…" Ianna glanced at the ghoul's head in Allen's hands, still dripping with sticky blood. "Congratulations, another large monster has been added to the record of the Blue Death…"
Hearing the awkward nickname, Allen let out a forced laugh and turned his head to look at the clamor of the knights who had gathered together. He was now quite close, yet they seemed unaware of his presence.
Every so often, strange voices floated through the air…
"Give me… let me take a swing…"
"You've had your turn; now it's my turn…"
"Don't you know how to be grateful? Don't forget who invited you to the Pink Tavern back then… that time…"
"Shut up! Are you crazy? Duke Mason is right here! You can take it… just take it…"
Such bizarre dialogue!
"What are they doing?" Allen curiously asked.
"You might as well go see for yourself…" Ianna said with a mischievous smile.
Allen knew this was a sign of the high priestess's mischievous streak. However, after a moment of thought, he set the ghoul's head down and walked toward the group of armored knights.
Using the unique technique of the Cat School's two-handed sword at level 5, Allen slipped through the gaps between the burly men like an eel.
"Swish~"
"Swish~"
As the strange sounds mixed with the noise grew closer, so did a pungent smell of sweat and blood. Then he saw two knights, helmets removed, wildly swinging their blood-soaked long swords, hacking at a headless corpse that was barely recognizable.
"Swish~"
"Swish~"
Surrounding them was a circle of excited middle-aged men, making it look like a grisly gathering of bloodthirsty maniacs. As Allen looked closely, he realized that the mangled chunks of flesh were actually the headless body of the ghoul.
"Clang~"
Another swing.
"Ha ha! Did you see that? After applying this mysterious potion, I can even split the bones…"
The knight swinging the sword boasted loudly to a companion beside him. The other impatiently urged, "Got it! Got it! Let me take another swing!"
At that moment, Allen noticed the blood-red reflections on the sword were not just the ghoul's blood; they also had a shiny gloss.
It was Necrophage Oil!
Those long swords were steel.
Allen understood.
He squeezed into the inner circle to take a look around. The old duke stood nearby, staring at the hacked bones and blood with one hand still swaying a nearly empty bottle of Necrophage Oil, seemingly deep in thought.
Noticing someone squeezing in nearby, he frowned and glanced over.
"Witcher, you're back?"
He looked at the blue-eyed witcher in surprise, instinctively feeling guilty as he hid the now mostly empty potion bottle behind him. But after a quick glance at his excited subordinates still chopping at the bones, he subtly lowered his hands behind his back.
For a moment, the atmosphere was extremely awkward.
"It's fine, those two bottles of sword oil were originally a gift for your self-defense," Allen said with a smile.
The duke glanced at Allen a couple of times, just about to say something when…
"Ah! The potion on this sword has run out…"
"Quick, have Sir Arthur apply some more…"
"The potion isn't with me; Duke Mason took it…"
After an anxious exchange, the knights having fun almost simultaneously turned their gaze toward the duke.
Not only had they fought alongside the duke on the battlefield, eliminating rebels, but most were also nobles with family ties to him. Thus, their daily interactions were more like those between elder and younger relatives.
And since trying out the potion's effects was a business matter, they weren't too timid. However, when they saw those blue eyes and the youthful face that looked similar to their sons, they all instinctively fell silent.
They straightened their bodies and became serious.
The knight who had been swinging his sword was especially flustered, unsure of where to put his long sword.
In the end, he could only hold it behind his back with his right hand.
The sharp, bloodied sword tip poked out right beside the knight's ear, making it quite a comical sight.
Next came an awkward silence that lasted a full three seconds.
Even the old duke seemed unsure about what to say at this moment.
"Still not done having fun, are you, boys?"
"The sun is setting; it's time to head back…"
A shrill but gleeful old woman's voice came from beside the carriage, breaking the silence.
"Right, time to go." The old duke glanced at the sky and nodded nonchalantly before walking toward the carriage.
As he passed by Ianna, he shot her an annoyed glare.
Without needing to think, just by hearing that gleeful voice, it was obvious that this mischievous idea had come from that old woman after the young witcher returned and silently slipped into their midst. Decades ago, it had been just like this, and it hadn't changed since.
The knights exchanged complicated glances, silently warning each other not to speak of today's events as they mounted their horses. Their excitement about that vial of potion was understandable.
As the elite of the duchy, they were well-equipped to face the monsters of this age, as their swords contained silver metal, which gave them an advantage against ghouls. However, ultimately, this knightly order, named the Shield of Iris, primarily targeted human enemies.
To prevent their longswords from being too soft and breaking during sword fights, the proportion of silver used was quite low, making it difficult for them to deal with monsters. Thus, they had never thought about fighting monsters.
After all, those who exorcised monsters did so, and those who understood how to kill did the killing; this was the meaning of order.
But…
Which man hasn't yearned to be an epic hero who slays demons and monsters?
It was just that they never had the opportunity.
But today!
They discovered a potion that could be applied to their longswords to achieve the weakening effect of a professional silver sword.
Even if they were only hacking at the remains of some monsters, the blood of heroes hidden within them seemed to ignite.
If it weren't for the embarrassing situation they had just experienced, they would have rushed to inquire about the price of the potion.
"Just hang this on the back of the cart…"
Noticing Allen lifting the head of the alghouls, the knights looked around, seemingly considering where to put it.
Ianna smiled and pointed to the back of the cart, where there were several hooks tied with long ropes. At that moment, everyone noticed the monster's head half-hidden in the grass, nearly reaching the waist of the witcher.
The juxtaposition of the youthful boy with the black-spiked, horned head of the monster was striking. However, due to the earlier awkwardness, everyone merely sighed inwardly and nodded politely to the witcher.
They presented themselves as elegant and noble knights. But most of them felt an increasing craving for that miraculous potion.
Many thought to themselves: "Perhaps with that potion, I could hunt such powerful monsters too."
----------------------
"Clatter, clatter~"
Once the witcher placed the alghouls's head down and stepped into the cart, the convoy slowly began to accelerate towards Ellander.
"Bang~"
The knights heard the sound of the cart door and almost simultaneously let out a sigh of relief. They glanced at the grotesque head hanging there and began to chat quietly about various topics.
But no matter how they talked, the conversation inevitably revolved around the witcher, the blue reaper, the potion, and ghouls…
Meanwhile, inside the cart, it was silent except for the sound of hooves and wheels crushing the earth, as the old duke pondered deeply.
Until the high priest looked at the duke and patted Allen on the shoulder, casually saying: "Fortunately, you returned early."
"If you were even a bit later, we would have to return to Ellander first, call the monster-hunting army and Vesemir, and then go find you…"
The witcher was momentarily taken aback.
But then he recalled the events that Ianna had mentioned on their way back, about several incidents that had occurred near Ellander in recent years.
"Is it because of the specters?" he asked.
Ianna nodded, letting out a sigh: "War, plague, and rebellion; far too many people have died on the land of Ellander…"
"So specters, vengeful spirits, wraiths, plague maidens…"
"As long as it's a ghostly type of monster you know about, there's one here."
"At night, these vengeful dead will awaken and attack all living beings that breathe…"
Ianna spoke of it horrifically, but the witcher felt a twinge of longing.
The purified spirits obtained from killing specters were one of the few trophies that could enhance his perception attributes, aside from the hearts of large monsters.
While Allen was lost in thought, he heard Ianna continue: "As a witcher, you should know that trying to use silver weapons against other entities is pointless…"
"So, the May Festival?" Allen asked tentatively.
Ianna nodded.
"This is a grand ritual."
"It is a time of natural rebirth, and also when Lady Merithali, the goddess of fertility, love, agriculture, and hearth, is at her strongest. By using the ritual to collect the positive emotions of people celebrating, it expands the divine power, allowing these spirits to find peace…"
"Unfortunately, such an opportunity only comes once a year." The old duke sighed, continuing Ianna's words.
Then he suddenly turned to the witcher and asked, "Do you sell the formula for the Necrophage Oil?"
"I can offer two hundred thousand Orens…"
Two hundred thousand?
Ten Elsas?
Three hundred North Winds?
Henselt's annual donation to the academy might not even amount to that much, right?
-------------------------
The witcher was momentarily taken aback by the old duke's sudden attack and opened his mouth. But he quickly sensed something was off and paused for a moment.
"Don't rush to answer," Ianna interjected, interrupting the duke, "Go back and discuss it with Vesemir and Vera before deciding."
After a pause, Ianna glanced at the old duke, who looked utterly helpless, and continued: "Especially Vera; she is very familiar with the value of potion formulas."
Allen observed the old duke, and his restless heart immediately calmed down.
He thought carefully.
The Necrophage Oil could actually deal with the most monsters.
Just the number of water ghosts and ghouls alone could probably account for half of all the monsters in the witcher world. Thus, this seemingly modest sword oil actually held far greater value for witchers than merely economic.
Even the economic value should be worth much more.
He nearly fell into the trap laid by this cunning old man… Allen glanced again at the old duke, who wore an expression of resignation.
Afterward, the old duke seemed to realize that the high priest was not on his side, so he didn't mention the Necrophage Oil again during the rest of the journey. However, he did buy the alghouls's head for a thousand Orens.
This price was quite high compared to the market price.
After all, a alghouls was not like a griffin. It was not only far too ugly, but its human-like features could also cause discomfort in many people. On the road after killing the alghouls, he estimated it was worth at most four or five hundred.
He thought again…
Perhaps the old duke had included those two vials of Necrophage Oil in the price as well?
That was rather thoughtful of him.
Without needing to pause for a ceremony, before it was fully dark, the group returned to Ellander.
The old duke even specifically instructed the driver to first take Ianna and Allen to the temple.
"Witcher, whenever you want to sell the formula for the Necrophage Oil, just come find me at the castle…"
As Allen followed the high priest out of the cart, the old duke could not help but mention it one last time. To this, the witcher simply nodded, said his farewells, and stepped down from the carriage.
Then, amidst the "clatter, clatter" of the cart, he looked at the temple illuminated by the soft glow of lights all around him and gratefully said to Ianna beside him: "Thank you, Ianna, for reminding me earlier in the cart…"
Before he could finish, Ianna raised her hand to interrupt him.
She affectionately ruffled the witcher's hair and softly said: "We are family, aren't we?"
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
259. The Unavoidable Soft Rice.
260. The Fearsome Good Luck.
261. Melitele Again?
262. Did Yennefer Start Hating Me?
263. Is the Witcher Not Human?