As soon as the question left his lips, Allen regretted it.
"Do you want to take me down the mountain?" Mary smiled softly, then, without waiting for him to reply, shook her head and sighed. "Following you down the mountain would only be a burden. Staying here at Kaer Morhen, I can actually contribute more to the troop's affairs..."
Mary paused, her pair of strikingly blue eyes staring straight at Allen.
"I want to help you."
Her voice was firm yet layered with complexity, like a stream flowing in the summer, always finding a path through the cracks between the rocks.
Allen awkwardly avoided her gaze. His mouth opened slightly, but for some reason, his throat felt parched, unable to form a single syllable.
"Go prepare, don't leave anything behind. I'll go find Master Aristo."
Mary smiled warmly, her eyes curving into crescents. Without waiting for the witcher to respond, she turned and followed the path Vesemir had taken, heading toward the main keep.
"Th-thank you, Mary."
After walking only a few steps, she suddenly heard the boy's voice behind her. A smile tugged at her lips as she turned back, revealing two shallow dimples.
"No need to thank me... And... be careful."
"I'll be waiting for you to come back at Kaer Morhen."
Watching her retreating figure, Allen sighed softly, lost in thought.
------------------
Since Mary had volunteered to coordinate with Master Aristo, Allen no longer needed to concern himself with swordsmanship, signs, or potion-making for the Witcher Corps.
So.
Allen planned to glance at the training grounds, hand over the final rewards for the match—Purified Essence of Wraith and Ghoul Extract—to Erni, then pack up and rendezvous with Vesemir to leave.
But before Allen could seek him out, Erni and Claral, along with the other witchers of the troop, approached him.
"Commander, are you planning to head down the mountain?" Erni, pushed forward by the others, looked slightly nervous.
Allen immediately understood what was on their minds.
"You all want to come along."
It was a statement, not a question.
Erni and the others nodded repeatedly, their eyes filled with anticipation and plea.
They all knew that if they didn't seize this opportunity, by the time Allen returned after finishing his mission, it would likely be deep winter, with the mountains sealed off by snow.
Even if half of the apprentices passed the mountain trial by then, they'd still have to wait until spring to descend.
Allen nodded thoughtfully.
Now came the question—should he take his "troop" down the mountain to rescue the dwarves?
Originally, Allen had planned for just himself and Vesemir to ride directly to Vergen, rescue Houghton, and return. After all, the more people there were, the more likely they were to expose their tracks.
Two witchers were far less conspicuous than seven or eight.
Kaedwen, currently in wartime, was already highly sensitive to small armed groups within its borders.
Not to mention the delicate relationship between Kaedwen's nobles and the School of the Wolf.
More importantly, in the event of discovery, it would be challenging for Allen and Vesemir to protect too many people from a large enemy force.
However, looking at his troop, whom he had grown close to over the past month, Allen hesitated.
After a moment, he cast a quick assessment spell at Erni.
[Name: Erni]
[Loyalty: 100]
[Attributes: Strength 16 (+7), Agility 10 (+2), Constitution 14 (+3), Perception 18 (+10), Mystery 7.5 (+2)]
[Skills: Wolf School Two-Handed Sword LV3 (1/1000), Ice Spear Spell LV2 (7/500), Quen LV2 (4/500)…]
With the purified Purified Wraith Essence and Ghoul Extract provided as rewards for the match, all members of Allen's Witcher Troop had undergone significant enhancement.
Twenty portions of Purified Wraith Essence added 10 points to perception, and 20 portions of Ghoul Extract added 5 points to strength.
Additionally, these witchers, having recently passed the Trial of Grasses and the Mountain Trial, were in a period of rapid attribute growth. Over the past six months, their average attributes had increased by two points.
Even though Erni benefited the most from the Trial of Grasses' mutation effects, the other witchers, thanks to the purified essence and extracts, weren't far behind in attributes.
On top of that, their average swordsmanship level was LV3, and their sign level LV2.
Compared to six months ago, the strength of Allen's troop had more than doubled.
These individuals, far surpassing regular militia and rivaling trained soldiers, could now descend the mountain and survive as witchers.
So…
"It might not be impossible after all," Allen thought.
Furthermore, upon reconsidering, the issue of visibility due to numbers wasn't unsolvable.
With Cat Eye Potion, they could travel stealthily at night on horseback…
With purified Little Fog Pearl, they could mask their presence…
Even if discovered, they could use Axii to confuse and manipulate memories.
No!
They wouldn't even need Axii!
Even if caught, so what?
No country in the Northern Realms had ever banned multiple witchers from traveling together.
Besides, with Kaedwen embroiled in a fierce war with Aedirn, would they dare divert attention to deal with the School of the Wolf now?
Allen and Vesemir might worry about covert schemes from nobles or sorcerers.
But wouldn't those same nobles and sorcerers, with their forces spread thin, fear retaliation from the strongest witcher school in the Northern Realms?
Of course, this was the worst-case scenario.
Just a few years ago, during Kaedwen's war against the elves, witchers from the School of the Wolf were still roaming the battlefield to eliminate necrophages.
In just a few years, the anti-witcher sentiment among Kaedwen's populace and nobility hadn't deeply taken root.
They didn't need to be overly cautious.
Having worked through his concerns, Allen didn't immediately give an answer.
"I can take you down the mountain," he said with a nod. "But this mission to rescue the dwarven blacksmiths in Aedirn will be exhausting and dangerous..."
Before he could finish, the group erupted.
"We're witchers! Who's afraid of danger?"
"Exactly!"
"Even if it's exhausting, it's better than being stuck in this godforsaken Kaer Morhen!"
Hearing they could leave, the excitement in their eyes nearly spilled over.
Danger?
What danger could faze them?
And with their commander, the Blue Death, the youngest master witcher, the Drowner Slayer Allen, leading them, what monster couldn't be slain?
Surrounded by their enthusiastic chatter and flattery, Allen's ears buzzed incessantly.
"Alright, alright, go get ready," Allen said helplessly, waving them off. "Meet in front of the main keep at noon, and we'll head out."
The witchers cheered loudly in response.
At that moment, Mary appeared on the main path, leading Master Aristo.
Allen exchanged a few words with the bearded witcher master, expressed his gratitude to Mary with a nod, exchanged a glance, and then led his regiment members away.
----------------
Ban Ard.
"We can't go on like this, Master Mage!"
A richly dressed, plump man stood in a grand hall within the Ban Ard academy, clutching the gemstone ring on his left hand with his right, shouting accusations in agitation.
"Three times!"
"In just one month, my caravan has been ruined on the road by those damned drowners three times!"
"The lost goods, along with the penalties for breach of contract... half a lifetime's savings gone up in smoke…"
"Exactly!" Another portly middle-aged man, unable to sit still, struggled to rise from his seat and added loudly, "Farmers growing wheat are afraid to go into the fields, fearing that monsters might leap out from somewhere."
"Chickens, cows, horses—all the livestock—either killed or mysteriously vanished. The losses are immense…"
"The grain requisitioned for the front lines is increasing as well. At this rate, Ban Ard will face a famine in a matter of months…"
When the issue of food supply was raised, the middle-aged mage in black robes, sitting silently in the main seat, could no longer remain a mere observer.
He wearily rubbed his temples and looked at the middle-aged man.
"Did the academy not distribute the stockpiled silver forks to the surrounding villages?"
"They're simply not enough, Master Mage!" the middle-aged man replied with a distressed expression. "The reports from the field say the drowners have suddenly become tougher. Those silver forks can barely be used two or three times before they break."
"Some forks even snapped the moment they pierced a drowner, costing many lives as a result."
"Now no one dares to use these silver forks to drive away the drowners anymore…"
The middle-aged mage fell silent.
The research report on the drowners becoming increasingly troublesome over the past few months, likely due to the Conjunction of the Spheres, had just been presented in the headmaster's office days ago.
They hadn't even had time to devise countermeasures, yet the consequences had already escalated to this extent.
"Honored Mage Dru."
A silver-haired elderly man sitting quietly gestured with his hand.
The two agitated merchants immediately fell silent.
Mage Dru, addressed by the elder, adjusted his posture in the high-backed chair and said, "Count Pascal, please speak."
"Mage Dru, we have always respected the founding pact, dedicating the vast majority of the city's revenues to secure the mages' protection."
"For nearly a century, we have coexisted harmoniously."
Count Pascal looked solemnly at Mage Dru.
"Now, the city of Ban Ard and the surrounding villages are in crisis. Protests and complaints from merchants and craftsmen are heard daily outside the parliament gates."
"If the academy fails to take meaningful action, by year's end, the tax collection scene will likely become very unpleasant."
As he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the hall seemed to freeze.
"You're threatening the academy!" Mage Dru, seated in the high-backed chair, leaned forward aggressively. His narrowed eyes gleamed with menace.
His demeanor transformed from that of a refined scholar into a venomous serpent ready to strike.
"We wouldn't dare…" Count Pascal sighed, then stood under the mage's piercing gaze. "The king died in Ban Ard. The ramifications beyond war are simply lying dormant for now."
Pascal gazed deeply into the mage's glowing, magic-infused eyes.
"We are on the same side, Mage Dru."
"The king died in Ban Ard, the Conjunction erupted in the city's heart, and now the drowners are inexplicably rampant and growing stronger…"
"Act quickly, or by the time taxes are due at year's end, we won't have the chance to be kicked out—we'll have already been removed."
The mage remained silent.
Pascal spoke the truth, both in his words and his heart.
In fact, as the academy's mage responsible for Ban Ard, even if he didn't care about mundane affairs, he could still sense the complex atmosphere in the city following the king's death.
But…
The academy barely had any spare manpower to allocate…
"Rest assured, Pascal. The academy will protect the interests of every ally."
A gentle yet firm voice suddenly came from one side.
"Headmaster!"
"Hen Gedymdeith himself! Good day!"
"Good day, Master Hen Gedymdeith!"
The three visiting merchants immediately placed their right hands over their chests and greeted him respectfully.
Hen Gedymdeith waved a hand dismissively, his tired eyes and gentle smile directed at Pascal.
"The Nash family's alliance is an honor for the Ban Ard academy."
The silver-haired elder seemed flattered as he slightly bowed. "Not at all. Serving the academy and Master Hen Gedymdeith is the Nash family's privilege."
"The academy is aware of the drowners' outbreak and is researching a permanent solution," Hen Gedymdeith said with a nod. "But this will take time."
Pascal hesitated briefly at these words, glancing at his companions on either side.
"We'll do our best to advocate in parliament…"
"That's not necessary," Hen Gedymdeith interrupted gently, shaking his head. "While a permanent fix requires time, the academy can deploy some personnel to deal with the drowners in severely affected or critical areas in the meantime."
"That would be wonderful, Master Gedymdeith!" The two portly merchants nodded enthusiastically.
However, Pascal didn't immediately echo their sentiment. He glanced at the stoic Mage Dru, frowned slightly, and hesitated.
"Would this put undue strain on the academy?"
"If a permanent solution is indeed achievable, we could try to buy more time…"
Hen Gedymdeith laughed heartily.
"Pascal, this is Ban Ard. Forget a few measly drowners—no monster can rampage on our turf!"
"Return now, inform the parliament, and compile a report on the worst-affected areas."
"Our people will be there this afternoon."
Hen Gedymdeith's confidence seemed to reassure the three men.
"Then we'll take our leave and await your good news," Pascal said with a sigh of relief.
"Go on!" Hen Gedymdeith maintained his warm smile.
The heavy door creaked open.
The sunlight spilling in seemed slightly unnatural, with a faint bluish tint.
Pascal stepped halfway out but, influenced by the peculiar light, seemed to remember something suddenly.
He glanced up at the sky, then back at Hen Gedymdeith, his expression hesitant.
But faced with Hen Gedymdeith's gentle smile, he ultimately said nothing, nodding his farewell before leaving.
Bang!
The door closed.
Hen Gedymdeith's smile vanished instantly, replaced by a slight frown.
"Headmaster, you summoned me?"
Hen Gedymdeith nodded.
"The Wild Hunt—any news?"
.....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
325. Exposure.
326. I Haven't Even Acted Yet, How Is It Over?
327. Were the Witchers' Tracks Exposed?
328. Encounter with the Sorcerer.
329. Vilgefortz.