159. How Do You Know My Name is Fredeca?

Blood!

Blood was everywhere!

In the dim candlelight, the small room was filled with the strong smell of iron.

A man dressed in black nightwear with a mask tied around his face was sitting on a blood-stained linen bed, leaning on a longsword in his right hand, quietly looking down at something. His name was Fredeca, a Witcher of the Cat School.

He had lit the candle himself.

Ordinary Cat School Witchers could fight in the dark, locating their enemies by sound and killing under the faint light of the moon. Fredeca, of course, could do the same. But this was just a hobby for him.

He liked to toy with his prey under the light, enjoying the intense emotional changes on their faces before they died. He liked to smell the strong scent of blood and count down the remaining moments of their life.

This gave him a thrill, much more than any cheap hallucinogen could offer.

Such wonderful moments, how could one fully appreciate them without some light?

With that thought, Fredeca took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fragrant air, then looked down to continue admiring his masterpiece.

Not far from the bed, an unnamed Wolf School apprentice lay on his back in his own blood, eyes wide with terror, his body weakly convulsing. His mouth was gagged with cloth, and the tendons of his wrists and ankles had been severed, blood gushing from his veins.

"You have about five minutes left," Fredeca said.

His years of experience made him very precise in his estimations; when he said five minutes, it wouldn't be a second more or less. The mix of hatred, fear, anger, and hope in the apprentice's eyes intensified with Fredeca's words.

"You're waiting for someone to save you."

It was a statement, not a question.

"Your mentor is in the next room, held off by two Witchers even stronger than me."

"As for the other apprentices like you, each of them is facing an opponent just like yours..."

Fredeca's tone was calm, neither mocking nor cursing, but rather methodically analyzing the situation for the apprentice as if he were giving a lesson.

"They won't make it in time!"

"But don't worry, on the road to death, your friends will surely go ahead of you."

Upon hearing this, the despair in the Wolf School apprentice's eyes deepened, but was soon replaced by extreme anger and hatred. Feeling this gaze, Fredeca sniffed the air excitedly again.

Looking at his prey, who was now pale, his eyes gleamed with cruel pleasure. He was about to taunt him further when he suddenly gripped his sword tightly and looked out the window. A similarly young face appeared in the dim candlelight.

The newcomer glanced at Fredeca, who was dressed in black, then quickly noticed the apprentice lying in the pool of blood, his expression changing dramatically as he shouted.

"Allen!"

Immediately, his eyes flared with intense hatred and anger as he leaped into the room, sword in hand, charging at the figure by the bed. Fredeca didn't panic; he remained seated on the blood-stained linen. He watched the young figure, blinded by rage, charge at him blindly. A smirk spread across his face beneath the black mask.

"Allen?"

"Is that your name?" Fredeca glanced at the person on the ground. "Or is it your mentor's name...?"

"Or perhaps... another apprentice's name?"

Clang! Clang! Clang!

A series of continuous metal clashes interrupted Fredeca's slow, deliberate words. Sitting on the bed, Fredeca easily blocked Hughes's frenzied attacks with one hand, the sword moving lightly.

"Your swordsmanship isn't bad, but your strength is too weak, and your speed too slow."

"It's good enough against those newly graduated kittens, but against me..."

"It's not enough!"

Fredeca commented leisurely. Then, with a sudden backward lean, he lay down on the bed, dodging the sword slash aimed at him.

In a flash, his right foot struck Hughes's abdomen with lightning speed.

Boom!

The Quen shield shattered with a faint shockwave that didn't even disrupt Fredeca's stance. I can't beat him!

Hughes immediately realized this. He stepped back a few paces, standing in the pool of blood, and cast a Quen shield on himself again.

"Hmm, not a bad sign, decent swordsmanship. No wonder those other failures couldn't stop you."

"You must be the most talented Witcher in this batch from the Wolf School, right?"

Fredeca asked curiously, slowly rising from the bed, sword in hand. The enemy's disdain made Hughes seethe with anger, but the ease with which Fredeca had deflected his attack reminded him to stay calm.

Bond's breathing behind him was growing weaker; he had to protect his companion until Allen arrived. Clearing his thoughts, Hughes adopted an even more cautious stance. His exchanges with Fredeca were mainly probing, and as soon as his Quen shield was broken, he would retreat to cast it again.

Allen will be here soon; he must be careful, he can't be a burden like in the Trial of the Grasses. Fortunately, Fredeca's desire to fight seemed low; he only occasionally glanced excitedly at Bond on the ground. He neither launched a fierce attack nor used Bond as a hostage to lure Hughes into a mistake.

Instead, whenever Hughes's shield broke, Fredeca would seize the chance to leave shallow cuts on his wrists and ankles.

"He's had the chance to kill me, but only leaves these shallow wounds..."

"This... this is just like a cat playing with a captured mouse."

Hughes glanced at the blood on his wrist, the thought in his mind making his blood boil.

"Hughes..."

"Bond! What happened to Bond?"

Fredeca's panicked voice from behind made Hughes breathe a sigh of relief. Sure enough, The next moment, a slender figure holding a longsword suddenly appeared beside him, carried by a gust of wind.

It was Allen!

Frowning, Allen quickly examined the wounds on Bond's limbs, then noticed the similar cuts on Hughes. The raging fire of anger immediately surged through his mind.

This was torture!

This damned Cat School Witcher had treated his companions as toys to be played with at will!

How dare he!

"Allen!"

"Be careful! This man in black is not simple!"

Hughes warned gravely. Allen nodded and said, "You and Fredeca quickly tend to Bond's wounds..."

"As for this one..."

Allen turned to look at the Cat School Witcher standing leisurely ahead, as if he had already won, watching them converse. Gritting his teeth, Allen said, "As for this damned bastard, leave him to me!"

Hughes nodded, stepping back a few paces and tearing off a few strips of cloth from his clothes.

Clang!

The fierce clashing of metal rang out in the small room, the sudden gust of wind causing ripples in the pool of blood around Bond.

"Wolf pups, who allowed you to move my masterpiece?"

Fredeca's brows furrowed above his cat-like eyes, his gaze revealing dissatisfaction, irritation, and anger, like a spoiled child whose favorite toy had been taken away.

Wolf pups?

Masterpiece?

Such intolerable terms—Cat School Witchers were truly a bunch of lunatics and perverts.

Allen's anger flared even more. But he had no intention of responding to Fredeca's ramblings. There was nothing to say to the madmen and psychopaths of the Cat School.

Bond's condition was dire; he urgently needed a doctor. The sounds of swords clashing continued to echo faintly from the next room, and Vesemir's situation didn't seem good either.

"Finish this quickly!"

Allen squinted his eyes and casually cast an appraisal.

[Name: Fredeca]

[Attributes: Strength 34, Agility 36, Constitution 23, Perception 33, Mystery 13]

His strength and agility were about the same as the previous Cat School Witcher.

I can take him!

Seeing the attributes of the impostor Witcher, Allen's thoughts raced, and his ocean-blue cat-like eyes suddenly flashed with a faint blue light in the flickering firelight.

Monster Hunt!

Clang~

Amid the piercing screech of metal, Allen's hands bulged with veins as he fiercely pushed a surprised Fredeca away.

"This kind of power... you're not a Witcher apprentice!"

Fredeca frowned and, with a light step, retreated. However, the next moment, Allen charged straight at him.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

Allen remained silent. His relentless slashes came like a storm, making it difficult for Fredeca, who had underestimated the Wolf School Witcher from the beginning, to defend himself. This was a lesson Allen had learned from his fierce battle with Brett.

The Wolf School's two-handed sword technique emphasizes rotation and footwork. This sword technique is meant for dealing with monsters whose strength and physique far exceed those of ordinary Witchers. Thus, if a strike misses, one must quickly dodge to avoid being struck by a monster's extraordinary strength.

Then, when the opportunity arises, the Witcher spins, building momentum in the sword so that the force of the next strike multiplies several times, aiming to inflict the maximum damage while minimizing injury. Therefore, this sword technique is discontinuous.

Strike, retreat, strike again, and retreat again.

This works well against monsters, but against humans, it's a huge weakness.

In battle, retreating even one step often means missing an opportunity. Moreover, against armored human enemies—whether leather armor or full plate—the accumulated power from the spinning technique on the sword is either completely wasted or entirely ineffective. So, in Brett's storm-like quick sword strikes, Allen learned the key to swordsmanship against humans.

And that is...

Suppress! Suppress! Suppress!

Continuous suppression from start to finish!

Don't give the enemy any chance to breathe or counterattack.

Allen also had the skill of Monster Hunt, so even without specifically targeting the opponent's weaknesses, as long as the battle dragged on and the number of strikes was sufficient. No matter who the enemy was, they were bound to die.

Allen focused entirely on wielding his steel sword, pushing Fredeca step by step into a corner. The progress bar above Fredeca's head kept increasing with each violent clash of their steel swords.

[Monster Hunt Progress: 3%]

[Monster Hunt Progress: 6%]

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

Although Fredeca, as a Cat School Witcher, didn't have the protective aura of magic, and his exquisite swordsmanship made it difficult for Allen to inflict any bleeding wounds, which caused the accumulation of [Monster Hunt] progress to be somewhat slow, requiring about thirty strikes to fill the progress bar.

But.

That was enough!

"Curse you, little wolf cub!"

Fredeca, who was completely suppressed, roared angrily, seemingly infuriated by being overpowered. However, Allen couldn't detect any panic in his eyes.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

Amidst the intense sound of clashing metal, Allen suddenly noticed that the blade of his Wolf School steel sword had started to chip. In contrast, Fredeca's steel sword remained almost intact. The steel sword in Allen's hand was the best steel sword Kaer Morhen had to offer. Even Vesemir's sword was of similar quality.

But it still wasn't as sturdy as the Cat School Witcher's sword.

Clearly.

The Cat and Wolf Schools had very different requirements when it came to steel swords.

Fredeca noticed Allen had seen the damage to his sword and his murky cat-like eyes glinted with vicious intent, as if taunting Allen.

Although he was currently suppressed in this confined space due to momentary carelessness, the Cat School's killing swordsmanship was not just for show.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Under Allen's relentless assault, Fredeca meticulously controlled his sword, blocking Allen's strikes at the same spot on the blade. He even deliberately increased the force with each block. The chip in the middle of Allen's sword was widening, and it seemed that just a few more exchanges would cause it to break.

This was an open trap.

In this narrow space, Hughes and Fredeca joining the fight would only cause more confusion. If Allen retreated to change swords, using the Quen sign to buy time, Fredeca could escape his suppressed position. But if he didn't retreat, then in about ten more strikes, the Wolf School Witcher would face a broken sword and death.

Thus.

In Fredeca's eyes, he had already won. He even couldn't help but lick his lips beneath his mask.

While fending off the incoming sword, he eagerly anticipated the fear and helplessness that would flood the skilled yet odd Wolf School Witcher apprentice when he started bleeding.

"Hahaha!"

"Enjoying your slashing, little wolf cub?"

Fredeca blocked Allen's never-ending attacks, laughing arrogantly.

"There's still time to beg for mercy. If you restore my works to their original state, and let me enjoy them, I'll leave."

"After all, my task today was simply to kill a Wolf School Witcher apprentice."

"Since you have such pretty eyes, I might just spare you."

"Just let me enjoy my works again," Fredeca repeated softly, like the whisper of a devil.

Hughes and Fredeca, having roughly treated Bond's wounds, looked at Allen with anxious expressions. They had both noticed the abnormal state of Allen's weapon.

"No worries!"

A calm and gentle voice rang out amidst the clashing steel.

"Good... then you should back up..."

The eyes behind Fredeca's black mask curved as if he was smiling, but then he realized something and frowned, asking: "What? What do you mean, 'no worries'?"

Allen didn't reply. He kept watching the progress bar above Fredeca's head and continued to swing his sword.

Clang!

[Monster Hunt Progress: 93%]

The chip in the middle of the sword had widened to the size of a thumb, and it could break at any moment.

Clang!

[Monster Hunt Progress: 96%]

The tip of the sword wavered slightly, and a crack seemed to appear in the middle. A barely audible soft sound mixed with the sword clash, and Fredeca caught it. He grinned widely, his excitement palpable even through the mask.

"I've won!" Fredeca thought.

Clang!

[Monster Hunt Progress: 99%]

Crack!

The sword finally broke, and the front half flew off, grazing Allen's arm as it was sent flying. A thin line of blood appeared on his right elbow.

"Hahaha~"

In the midst of Fredeca's manic laughter, he instantly struck Allen. The Quen shield shattered, and the Cat School Witcher was knocked back by the shockwave, slamming into the wall.

"You strange little wolf cub, you're finished!"

Fredeca exulted, using the momentum to kick off the wall, his feet momentarily hanging in the air at about waist height. As his knees bent to absorb the impact, his muscles tensed and then sprang into action. Wielding his sword like a sharp arrow, he lunged at Allen.

"No, you're finished, Fredeca!"

Allen said softly.

At the moment the Quen shield shattered.

[Monster Hunt Progress: 100%]

Allen followed the vision before his eyes, sidestepping and retreating to step on the red footprint, narrowly avoiding the thrusting sword.

Immediately after, he gripped the remaining half of his broken sword, and as Fredeca lunged at him, he swung down along the vertical red line.

Fredeca's eyes widened in terror, yet he obligingly placed his head right in the path of Allen's slash.

"Thud~"

His body and head split in two, landing at the feet of Hughes, Bont, and Fredeca.

The splattering blood stained the young faces of all three.

Thud!

The body fell.

The loud noise woke Bond, who had been lying weakly on Fredeca's lap. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the head of the Cat School Witcher rolling on the ground, the mouth moving slightly as it stared at him with a horrifying gaze, and asked: "How did you know my name is Fredeca?"

At that moment.

As Allen, recovering from Monster Hunt, was about to check on Bond's injuries, A mechanical voice suddenly sounded in his ear, causing him to pause.

Ding!

[Monster "Witcher" Defeated!]

[Reward Calculating: ...]

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📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

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160. A New Beginning.

161. The Rage of Being Fooled.

162. A Bountiful Harvest.

163. Too Weak!

164. Even if He is the King of a Nation!