140. The Abandoned Castle.

"Sorry, we don't have any rooms available."

With a polite but cold refusal, Allen and the others watched as Vesemir left the inn.

"Allen, that innkeeper is clearly lying to us. How could they not have any rooms? The stable next door doesn't even have a single horse..."

Hughes grumbled, glaring at the small inn. This was the third inn to turn them away. Each one had a similar excuse, though this one's attitude was slightly better.

At the last inn, the moment Vesemir left, they immediately welcomed the next traveler. The change in their demeanor was so quick that they didn't even bother to hide their enthusiastic greetings.

"Alright, Hughes, Vesemir is coming back!" Allen, holding the reins, nudged Hughes, whose face was pale with anger, and also gave a glance to Bont and Fred, who were equally indignant.

Allen had a feeling about this ever since that merchant at the city gate left. The rumors spread by the sorcerers slandering witchers might have caused these inns to hike up their prices. However, the rumors they overheard at the city gate—about a witcher going berserk in Ard Carraigh and slaughtering the royal guards—were likely the real reason these innkeepers preferred to close their doors rather than host them.

"The Cat School really is the bane of the witcher community," Allen thought.

"Sorry, this place is full too. Let's try the lower town," Vesemir said, scratching his head as he approached.

"Vesemir, we're here for the tournament. Why not just go straight to Ban Ard Academy?" Fred asked, puzzled.

Vesemir shook his head and looked over at Hughes.

"Do you remember what I told you when I taught you how to handle drowner materials?" Vesemir asked.

Hughes paused, recalling for a moment before answering, "Stay... stay away from Ban Ard. They don't welcome witchers?"

Vesemir sighed. "Yes, but at the time, I was only talking about Ban Ard Academy."

"Now it seems that the entire city isn't welcoming us."

Vesemir glanced back at the inn they had just left, sighing again. "With the king's invitation, we could go to the sorcerers. They'd arrange accommodations for sure."

"But trust me, that's not a place a witcher would want to stay."

"At Ban Ard Academy, even the weakest sorcerer apprentices don't hide their desire to dissect you. Many of the more unhinged sorcerers might even try to act on it."

Fred took a deep breath and fell silent.

"Vesemir, the tournament is still more than ten days away. Why don't we find a village with an inn nearby instead?"

"We have horses. If we leave early in the morning, we can get to Ban Ard quickly," Allen suggested.

He really didn't want to go to the lower town. Unlike other cities, Ban Ard was a city built around the sorcerers' academy, with the academy as its core. So while in other cities, the upper town might be for nobles and their exclusive clubs or shops, in Ban Ard, the upper town was filled with stores catering to sorcerer apprentices, and the higher-end inns were there too.

The lower town, which would typically be the commercial center and home to artisans and merchants, was more like a slum. The lower town was chaotic, and when they passed by the city gate, many eyes had already targeted their mares. Given the witchers' poor reputation among the residents here, actually staying in the lower town…

They were looking for a place to rest, not trouble. And what's more intolerable was the smell. Ban Ard really stank, with the air filled with the stench of feces, urine, and garbage. The ground was frequently littered with unidentifiable solid and liquid substances. For the keen senses of witchers, this was pure torture. And this was just in the upper town.

When they first entered the city, Allen nearly choked when they followed Vesemir into the lower town. Hearing Allen's suggestion, the young witchers' eyes lit up, and they quickly agreed: "Yes! Vesemir, Allen is right. Let's leave quickly!"

It was clear that, both physically and mentally, they had all had enough of this city.

After all…

Given Allen's previous life experiences, it was natural that he couldn't stand the environment here. But Hughes, Bond, and Fred had been sent to Kaer Morhen as children, so they had never experienced the misfortune of stepping in dog poop every few steps!

Though there were some weeds along the streets of Kaer Morhen, the paths were still very clean. But today, as soon as they arrived in Ban Ard, the idealized image they had of the sorcerers' academy shattered. They just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Vesemir didn't need much convincing; he agreed after just a few seconds, as if he had been waiting for someone to suggest it.

Once the decision was made, he grabbed the reins and began carefully maneuvering around the solid unidentifiable substances as they made their way toward the city gate. Even a seasoned witcher master like Vesemir was only more tolerant, not fond of enduring such foul odors.

After leaving Ban Ard…

The air, laced with the scent of grass and wood, instantly soothed their senses, which had been tormented by the stench. The witchers, riding their horses, couldn't help but take deep breaths. Even Vesemir was doing the same, though he concealed the quickening pace of his breathing a bit better.

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

Noon.

At the Orchard of Plenty, near Ban Ard.

"Clip-clop, clip-clop."

With the light sound of horse hooves, Vesemir led the way, quickly arriving at the center of the small town. The tavern and inn were nearby, but the witcher master showed no sign of stopping, heading straight through.

Seeing this, Allen urged Carrot forward to catch up with Vesemir, calling out, "Vesemir, the inn is over there!"

"I know!"

"After entering the town, I just remembered that I happen to know the lord of this town."

"Viscount Hudson hired me for a few tasks a few years ago. We got along well back then."

"So…"

Vesemir adjusted his wide-brimmed black hat, turning back with a somewhat smug smile as he said, "Wolf pups, you're in for a treat. The viscount's cook makes an excellent beef and tomato stew. The timing is perfect; we might even catch the noble's dinner."

The young witchers exchanged glances, excitement building.

"But should we just go like this? Don't we need to prepare something in advance?" Allen asked, puzzled.

Weren't nobles supposed to have all sorts of formalities and rules?

"Haha, Viscount Hudson is a very hospitable and generous man. He doesn't care much for those formalities."

"Say no more, let's pick up the pace." Vesemir laughed and urged his horse forward, clearly eager.

It seemed Vesemir and Viscount Hudson had a very good relationship, Allen thought.

About five minutes later…

The witchers arrived at their destination.

"Vesemir, are you sure this is the place?" Bond asked hesitantly.

There were no guards, the castle gates were askew, and the area was littered with rubble and knee-high weeds. This castle seemed to have been abandoned for a long time.

...…

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141. The Taste of the Cook's Food.

142. The Black Unicorn.

143. Vesemir Beaten up.

144. The Viscount and the Mysterious Human Couple.

145. A New Hunting Target.