Nenneke approached and cast a glance at Allen and Vesemir.
"Lysa, what are you discussing with Sir Allen and Master Vesemir?"
Allen's heart pounded wildly, but he kept his composure, subtly signaling the young priestess.
"Uh…" The young priestess blinked her large eyes. "Nothing much, just discussing materials for necrophage oils."
"Oh? Has something happened?"
"The Archpriestess instructed you to come to her as soon as you're done here. She has other tasks for you to undertake," Nenneke said meaningfully, glancing at Allen. "Also, don't agree to any requests from witchers without her approval."
"Ah? Any requests?" The young priestess looked at the two witchers, who didn't seem too pleased, and pulled Nenneke aside to whisper. "But… isn't that a bit harsh?"
"It's the Archpriestess' orders," Nenneke sighed. "And it's for their own good. The southern slopes of the Mahakam Mountains are dangerous right now. If they insist on going, they'll only throw their lives away."
"Finish up here quickly. The Archpriestess is waiting at the temple gates beneath the statue of the goddess."
With that, Nenneke gave a polite nod to Allen and Vesemir before hurrying off.
It was clear the Melitele Temple was extremely busy.
But for Ianna to find time amidst this chaos to send Nenneke specifically to deliver instructions to Lysa…
Allen glanced at Vesemir, whose expression was equally conflicted. It was hard to tell whether he should feel flattered or annoyed.
"Let's go," Lysa said softly, watching Nenneke disappear down the road.
"Go where?" Allen, who had been contemplating alternative ways to acquire amulets, was momentarily stunned.
Lysa gave him a curious look. "To get the amulets you asked for, of course."
"You agreed?" Allen blinked, surprised. "But Nenneke and Ianna just…"
Lysa sighed.
"Ianna and Nenneke don't understand you. They think that denying you the amulets will stop you from heading to the southern slopes of the Mahakam Mountains."
"But…"
"Let's face it," she said, her large, doe-like eyes gazing into his soul, "how could a 'reckless witcher' like you be deterred by the lack of a few amulets?
"For a stranger's quest, you broke away from your companions shortly after descending the mountain, clashing with a sorcerer and the King of Kaedwen himself. You even ventured into his heavily guarded mines…
"Even after a devastating magical ambush, you dared charge hundreds of wraiths…"
"And then you declined the comforts of a safer, wealthier life that a city—one that sings songs of your heroism—prepared for you after granting you a title."
Her breath caught as she continued, her voice soft but firm.
"A witcher like you wouldn't stop for a few missing amulets. Denying you protection would only endanger you more."
Allen averted his gaze from her overwhelming sincerity, too flustered even to refute the "reckless witcher" label.
"Fair point," Vesemir interjected, his golden feline eyes gleaming with amusement as he crossed his arms and glanced between Allen and Lysa. "It's entirely plausible."
"Vesemir!" Allen shot him a glare.
The older witcher, clearly enjoying the spectacle, simply smirked.
Lysa, realizing Vesemir was still present, quickly turned away, leading the way. "It's getting late; follow me."
Allen glanced at the overcast evening sky, then back at the girl ahead of him.
The somber clouds painted a gray, brooding atmosphere, but on the nape of her pale neck, a faint blush seemed to catch the last glow of sunset.
-----------------------------
The amulets were wooden, a stark contrast to the silver one Vera had gifted him at Kaer Morhen. Devoid of any gold or gem embellishments, they were humble carvings of the goddess Melitele in her three aspects: maiden, mother, and crone. They resembled the ordinary wooden charms sold on the streets of Ellander—well-worn and seemingly mundane.
Upon inspection, the amulets, like Vera's gift, displayed no magical auras on his medallion.
Yet their smooth texture, jade-like warmth, and faint incense scent that echoed the temple's sanctity revealed their true worth. However, the eucalyptus fragrance lingering on them was uniquely Lysa's.
"Amulets blessed by the goddess are empowered through repeated enchantments of 'Evil Ward' and 'Divine Protection,'" Lysa explained, perhaps to preempt doubts about their efficacy. "The more often they're blessed, the stronger their effects, regardless of the material."
"These four have been used by senior temple priests for over thirty or forty years, blessed countless times…"
Vesemir fastened the amulet around his neck. "I'm familiar with the tradition. Be it Melitele, Kreve, or Freya, the amulets sold to outsiders differ from those used within the temples."
"Amulets worn by temple priests are enchanted daily during prayers, while the gold or silver ones sold to nobles or merchants are blessed only twenty to thirty times."
Allen's mind wandered to Vera's golden Kreve amulet and silver Melitele charm. So, the cunning Scarlet Fox had been overcharged after all.
The question remained—had Ianna sold her that Melitele charm, or gifted it?
"Temples need to earn income to sustain themselves," Lysa said, smiling apologetically as she defended the practice. "Besides, the diminishing returns on repeated blessings mean that twenty or thirty times are sufficient for most people…"
"Like how witchers charge for contracts," Vesemir acknowledged with a nod, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. "But there's one thing I'm curious about…"
"What is it?"
He gestured toward the single-story brick house behind Lysa. "This looks like a residence for acolytes. How did you manage to gather four amulets that have been blessed for three or four decades so quickly?"
"I've been collecting them over the past month and a half," Lysa admitted, casting a glance at Allen. "Those who survive a curse from an Dark God often find themselves entangled with such entities again…"
"It was something Nenneke mentioned during a lecture, so I prepared in advance. I didn't expect it to come true so soon."
Allen fell silent.
He hadn't expected to face that Eyeball abomination again, let alone under such circumstances.
"Are four amulets enough?" Lysa asked.
"They'll do," Allen replied. He, Vesemir, and the griffin would each wear one, leaving one as a spare. "Thank you, Ly—"
Lysa cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Save your thanks for when you return."
Allen froze, catching the fear and plea in her eyes.
What was she afraid of?
What was she begging for?
"I will," Allen promised, taking a deep breath before leaving without looking back.
----------------------------
"Now that we've secured the amulets, what's your plan?"
"Are we leaving right away?"
As they made their way back to the witcher quarters, Vesemir asked the question.
"No," Allen shook his head. "The number of monsters spawning from the ritual's lair is too high. Even with the Royal Griffin covering us, it would be near impossible to reach the ritual's center quickly and kill the 'Ritual' amidst such a horde of necrophages."
The Monster Hunt, which ignores magical protection and guarantees that progress accumulates toward defeating the target, was Allen's trump card. It was also the reason why he and Vesemir could act independently.
However, the level of magical protection on a target still affected how quickly the mark could charge.
Judging by the intense magical aura Allen sensed around the "Ritual" earlier, filling the progress bar would take considerable time.
While the battle on the cliff earlier felt victorious, that was largely due to the Alghoul and the Scurver "going easy." Once Allen and Vesemir reached the "Ritual," the necrophages, driven mad by the orders of the evil deity, would fight with unrelenting ferocity.
The ritual's lair, deep in hostile terrain, offered no cliffs or advantageous landscapes to exploit.
And if the monsters turned out to be weaker than expected? Their sheer numbers would still overwhelm.
Not to mention Alghoul, Scurver, and the Ritual itself, whose power remained an unknown factor...
Honestly, the more Allen thought about it, the more uncertain he felt.
Even if Ianna's forces managed to draw away most of the necrophages, could he truly kill the "Ritual" and banish the evil deity?
Allen continued, "We'll join Ianna's main forces and move when they do. Once they attract the majority of the necrophages, we'll strike."
"A lot of people will die…" Vesemir said, his voice heavy as if he could already smell the stench of blood in the air.
It wasn't a protest—just a grim observation.
Allen said nothing, walking silently along the gravel path.
With such a horde of necrophages, a bloodbath was inevitable.
------------------------------
The metallic "clang" of something echoed from the side, interrupting their conversation.
Allen turned to see what caused it.
Bright orange portals were appearing one after another in the plaza beyond the goddess's statue.
From the portals emerged women clad in extravagant, daring attire—lace, silk, jeweled ornaments of every hue glimmered in the fading light.
"The sorceresses of Aretuza have arrived," Vesemir muttered. "The one at the front, with not a single wrinkle on her pristine attire, is Tissaia de Vries, the headmistress of Aretuza and the most powerful sorceress in the Northern Realms."
Following Vesemir's description, Allen's gaze landed on the woman in question, only for his eyes to meet a sharp, hawklike gaze that bore into him.
A sudden, resounding hum vibrated from his wolf medallion.
A wave of dizziness overtook him, forcing him to instinctively channel his power, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture.
A faint purple barrier flickered around him briefly but failed to form.
Instead, within his mind, the Heliotrop erected a mental barrier, shielding his thoughts.
For a moment, the barrier trembled violently.
"Interesting witcher," a surprised female voice echoed within his mind.
The moment the voice faded, Allen regained his senses.
His entire body was drenched in cold sweat. He knew that what had just transpired was a mental clash, swift and decisive.
The intensity of her psychic force felt like an inferno blazing against him.
A single glance—merely meeting her eyes—had caused such a powerful reaction in his mental defenses.
Tissaia withdrew her gaze without further action, her posture as rigid and unyielding as a pine tree, her attention now focused on the disappearing portals.
Allen glanced at Vesemir, only to find him watching Tissaia without any sign of discomfort.
"Was it because I instinctively countered with the Aard sign and erected a mental barrier?" Allen mused.
Unlike the flashy male mages of Ban Ard, the sorceresses of Aretuza exuded elegance and control, as though they were the difference between bandits and a disciplined army.
Having stepped through the portals, they now stood silently behind Tissaia, waiting for the others.
---------------------------
"Long time no see, Tissaia," Ianna, the Archpriestess of the Melitele temple, approached from the statue, accompanied by several priestesses.
Tissaia placed a hand on her chest and bowed slightly. "It has been some time, Ianna. Aretuza answers the call of the ancient pact."
With that, the two groups entered the reception hall near the temple's entrance.
Almost immediately after they disappeared into the hall, another portal materialized.
Out stepped Augusta, the court sorceress of Ellander, alongside the old Duke and Arthur. Under the guidance of another priestess, they too entered the hall.
--------------------------------
"I'll go listen to the arrangements for driving out the deity," Vesemir said. "Care to join me?"
"One person will suffice," Allen shook his head. "I plan to visit the goddess's sanctum. Perhaps she might offer me insight, as she has in the past."
"If the meeting runs late, I will be with Erni. If it ends early, I'll come to the sanctum," Vesemir instructed.
Satisfied with the plan, Vesemir began walking toward the hall.
After a few steps, however, he turned back with suspicion etched across his face.
"You're not planning to sneak off alone and confront the deity, are you?"
"Of course not," Allen said with a weary smile, shaking his head emphatically. "Didn't I just lay out the plan? We'll move only after Ianna's forces draw away the necrophages..."
Vesemir nodded but paused yet again after a few steps to deliver more admonishments.
Only after Allen repeatedly reassured him—handing over his own amulet as proof—did Vesemir finally leave.
"What kind of person do they think I am…" Allen muttered, gazing at his now-empty hand with a sigh.
-----------------------------
The sanctum of the goddess was unguarded, save for the eternal presence of the triune statues—the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone—gazing kindly over the darkness.
Would the goddess offer Allen insight?
Of course.
For a modest price of 100 experience gems—no tricks, no gimmicks.
The package included not just divine guidance but a half-day tour of the celestial realm, cleansing of all soul-bound corruption, and even a "Harvest Blessing" featuring a loot bundle of nine chests: eight gold, one purple…
Unfortunately, Allen only had 18 experience gems at the moment, so he wasn't here for divine guidance.
--------------------------------------
Allen dismissed the Witcher's Journal after reviewing his stored treasure chests:
[Aen Elle treasure chests × 18, Sorcerer's treasure chests × 18, Scurver's chests × 5, Alghoul's chests × 5, Ghoul chests × 5, Rotfiends chests × 5.]
Taking a deep breath, he adjusted himself to peak condition and began inscribing the Melitele's Concealment Ritual.
With chalk, he drew interwoven circles representing the triune aspects of the goddess: Maiden, Mother, and Crone.
Mercury was placed in the Maiden's circle, enchanted powder in the Mother's, and sulfur in the Crone's.
Carefully following the ritual's precise requirements, Allen circled the diagram clockwise four times, halting precisely at the Maiden's circle.
After one final inspection, Allen took a deep breath and offered a solemn prayer:
"Praise the Mother of All, Goddess of Fertility, Harvest, and Birth. Eternal guardian of the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone..."
.....
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