174. Hunting Mission.

This was a small river.

Clear, blue, gentle...

Ruffled by the warm spring breeze, illuminated by the sun's rays, supported by the fertile riverbed...

After a brief observation, Francesca came to a conclusion: "This is just an ordinary river, the kind that every human settlement has."

Undoubtedly, this wasn't the answer she was hoping for. So, Francesca glanced at the calm river water and asked in surprise: "Where have we arrived?"

"This is the exit," the Witcher answered, then proceeded to walk into the river.

Watching the Witcher's seemingly suicidal action, Francesca furrowed her delicate brows and stared at his receding back.

After a while, she hesitantly followed. It was early spring, the sunlight was warm, but the river water still retained the remnants of winter's chill, cold and biting. The sound of water flowing echoed in her ears. Her clothes were soaked by the cold river water, a faint smell of fish filled her nose, and her feet sank deeper into the mud...

Even though the figure ahead was upright, confident, and resolute. She couldn't suppress the urge to flee, the fear of wanting to return to solid ground.

"Witcher... Are you sure this is the exit?" she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

"Trust me, Francesca!"

The Witcher turned his head and nodded firmly. Then, as if sensing something, he took her hand and said: "If you're scared, just close your eyes. I'll lead you out."

The scorching warmth from where their skin touched not only dispelled the cold of the river but also seemed to burn away all her fears and anxieties. She recalled how three days ago, he had protected her like this, leaving her unscathed. The last trace of doubt in Francesca's heart vanished. So, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Following the warmth of his hand, she stumbled through the mud.

The cold water flowed...

Taking away her body heat, rising up her chest, blocking her breath, and finally...

Drowning the entire world. The next moment, She felt her body suddenly sink, and the last bit of light in her eyes vanished, as if she had fallen into a dark abyss.

"We've arrived!"

The Witcher's clear, crisp voice rang out. Francesca suddenly realized that the suffocating feeling of being submerged in water had disappeared without her noticing. Her clothes were dry, her hair was dry, her skin was dry...

"Hmm?"

Francesca opened her eyes in confusion, only to find herself in complete darkness.

Only the Witcher was illuminated, as if he were the only source of light in this world.

"We've arrived!"

Seeing the elf standing there dazed like a fool, Allen repeated himself helplessly.

"Huh?"

"Oh."

"Huh!?"

Francesca snapped back to reality.

It was then she realized that the place she was in was no longer the "Orchard" but a cave filled with the familiar, musty smell and terrifying memories.

"We've arrived?"

Francesca instinctively turned her head, wanting to see if the tranquil, beautiful, and friendly village was still behind her. However, a tug on her left wrist prevented her from turning around.

Francesca's face flushed red, and she was about to speak and withdraw her hand. But at that moment, the warmth from her slender wrist suddenly vanished. Seeing the apologetic smile on the Witcher's face, Francesca, feeling an inexplicable sense of emptiness, returned a polite smile. Then, she turned to look at the light source illuminating the Witcher.

It was a white, iridescent membrane.

It sealed off a stone door just wide enough for two people to pass through simultaneously, as if it were closing off a multicolored fairy-tale world.

Was that membrane really hiding the river from the Orchard?

Francesca looked at the Witcher in disbelief.

He had actually done it!

Just as he always did...

But how had he found the exit?

And moreover...

Wasn't solving magical puzzles usually the responsibility of a sorcerer in a knight's party?

Thinking about this, Francesca felt a bit frustrated.

Setting aside the light membrane before her...

Francesca Findabair, daughter of Aen Saevherne, destined to lead the Aen Elle back to reclaim their land from humans...

Had been nothing but a hindrance along the way. Without the Witcher before her, she couldn't even imagine what would have happened if she had been exploring the cave alone.

"Allen, how did you find the exit? And this light membrane... Is it an illusion?"

Francesca suppressed her shame and asked the Witcher, who was rumored to only know rudimentary magic tricks.

"It's a little Witcher's trick," Allen smiled. "But you're right, this is indeed an illusion."

A Witcher's little trick?

Weren't Witchers supposed to only know rudimentary magic like signs and have knowledge mainly related to monsters?

Francesca glanced at the young Witcher with his still boyish face, feeling confused.

Could the books have been wrong?

Had Witchers become more skilled in illusions than sorcerers?

After a pause, Allen continued with an apologetic tone: "Sorry, Francesca, I had to hide it to avoid alerting the master of the illusion..."

"No need to apologize, I'm aware of that."

Thinking about what had happened in the illusion, Francesca's face flushed again, and she quickly interrupted him. With Allen's "reminder," she suddenly remembered what she had done under the influence of the illusion...

Ah!!!

How could she have thought up the idea that she and Allen were siblings?

And with the Witcher and elf features so distinctive, how had she failed to notice that the villagers, including Asha Granny, showed no reaction...

Why hadn't she noticed such obvious flaws as a skilled elven mage?

Thinking and thinking, Francesca's face grew hotter and hotter, until it seemed ready to drip blood. She could only be thankful that the dim lighting might hide her expression...

"Al... Allen, where should we go now?" Francesca, no longer interested in the Witcher's little tricks, quickly changed the subject.

Upon hearing her question, Allen lowered his head in thought.

After half a minute, he looked up and said:

"Let's first check on the situation at the rock trolls' cave..."

"Three days have passed, the guards at the camp should have had some conflicts with the rock trolls by now, though I don't know what the casualties are on both sides..."

"Then we'll return to search for our targets... The people we're looking for should all be within the illusion... What do you think?"

Francesca pondered for a moment, then slightly nodded in agreement. Everything so far had proven that Allen's decisions were correct, and she had no reason to refuse. Afterward, the Witcher drank a cat potion, and the elf donned a black mask and headscarf, then headed away from the light membrane.

"By the way, Allen."

After walking only a few steps, the elf's voice suddenly echoed through the cave like a clear spring.

"What is it?" The Witcher slowed his pace.

"Since that place was an illusion... Does that mean everyone in the Orchard of Plenty, including Granny Asha who saved us, and Uncle Will... were all fake too?"

The Witcher couldn't discern the elf's tone. He also didn't know if anything had happened between Francesca and the inhabitants of the illusion during the three days he was unconscious. After a moment of silence, he softly said: "Yes."

"They were all fake, just a part of the illusion."

"Oh~" The elf sighed softly, seemingly a bit disappointed. "I see."

"It's fine, let's keep moving."

The Witcher nodded and continued forward.

Although Francesca had previously mentioned that her short-range teleportation could only cover a distance of about a hundred meters, the sense of space in the illusion, affected by the magic, made the actual distance traveled far different from the perceived distance.

After leaving the illusion, the tunnels in the mine were winding and filled with numerous forks. The Witcher and the elf had been walking for nearly three minutes but still hadn't found their destination.

"Tap, tap, tap~"

The deliberately subdued footsteps echoed in the narrow passage.

"Allen, this is the third fork. Are you sure this is the right way?"

"Shouldn't we mark these intersections?"

Francesca asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

"Trust me, Francesca," Allen said without looking back, continuing to walk forward.

In his enhanced vision, thanks to the Cat's Eye potion and the Wolf medallion, the moving black spots of magic were like migratory birds flying in the sky, guiding him without pause.

"But if it makes you feel better, you can mark the intersections."

Francesca was silent for a moment, then bent down to pick up a stone, just about to make a mark. Suddenly, Allen's nose twitched involuntarily. He seemed to catch a whiff of iron. He quickly walked to the center of the fork ahead, and in an instant, a cold draft brought with it a faint scent of blood.

"Shh!"

Allen quickly stopped Francesca from making a mark and whispered: "Be careful, the rock trolls are just ahead!"

Francesca froze upon hearing this, gripping the stone in her hand tightly, afraid of waking those terrifying trolls.

"Shh~ shh~ shh~"

For a moment, the only sound in the vast cave was the rustling of clothes, like silkworms gnawing on leaves in the darkness. Not long after, even Francesca covered her nose and mouth with her black mask. The thick scent of blood made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

How many people had died ahead?

This was the question on both the Witcher and the elf's minds.

"… Ooh… little stones… ooh… little iron pot… ooh… little gems…"

"… Humans… enemies… stone mountains… charge out…"

"… Stone mountains… humans… kill…"

"… Hungry… meat… hungry… meat… meat…"

Fragmented voices came from the end of the tunnel. Allen and Francesca exchanged a glance. After taking a deep breath, they began moving forward even more slowly, careful not to alert the monsters.

"Thump, thump, thump~"

The closer they got to the end, the more intense their heartbeats became. Without a doubt, the experience of facing death just three days ago was unforgettable for both of them.

"Gulp~"

Just a step away from their destination, both the Witcher and the elf stopped almost simultaneously, swallowing nervously before cautiously peeking out from the tunnel. Francesca only took one glance before immediately pulling back, her body convulsing as she tightly covered her mouth. Even Allen held his breath as he looked at the scene in the vast chamber.

How many people had died here?

The Witcher was horrified.

He had seen his share of gruesome sights, but never anything like this.

The uneven ground was littered with corpses, each one a bloody mess.

And unlike the wounds caused by swords or knives, whether the person had been wearing leather armor or a full suit of iron, they had all been crushed by some great force into nothing but a pile of flesh.

Some bodies were even smeared across the ground like chalk, their blood pooling in depressions and congealing into dark patches, making the ground look mottled with gray and black.

The overwhelming stench of blood, mixed with the smell of decay and something indescribably foul, hit them in the face. This was a scene straight out of hell. If not for the black-and-white vision provided by the Cat's Eye potion, Allen might have reacted the same way as Francesca.

Suppressing his nausea, the Witcher crouched and peeked out from the tunnel again to survey the parts of the chamber hidden by the rock walls.

"Roar!"

A furious roar suddenly exploded by his ear, echoing through the cave.

"… The enemy is here again… Trolls, kill them all!!!"

It was the stone trolls!

Allen instantly froze, his heartbeat missing a beat at that moment.

He quickly pulled back his body, dragging the equally terrified Francesca as they tried to flee back into the illusion...

"Kill!"

From the other side of the rock troll chamber, the sounds of battle erupted.

At the same time, several torches were thrown in. The moment they came into contact with the oily substance on the ground…

"Whoosh!"

A roaring fire ignited, illuminating the entire chamber.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

In their stunned state, they watched as all the rock trolls charged towards the cave entrance, the ground trembling as if a thousand troops were advancing. Even the massive stone troll that had been close to Allen and Francesca's tunnel entrance was now dragging its heavy steps towards the entrance. The soldiers at the entrance were treated by the rock trolls very differently from how Allen and his companions had been treated.

According to Big Rock, this represented an unending hatred!

Wait!

As the mountain-like stone troll moved away, it revealed several small mounds. Squinting in the firelight, the Witcher finally realized that these small mounds were also rock trolls, but they were all motionless.

Seven!

Or rather, seven corpses of rock trolls, with one or two lying in pools of blood that hadn't yet coagulated, indicating they hadn't been dead for long.

"No wonder these rock trolls have gone mad," the Witcher thought.

Wait a minute!

Fresh blood...

Allen quickly opened his Witcher notebook.

[Task: Summoning I (Collect Rock Troll Blood 3/20)]

[Task Reward: Conjunction of the Spheres—Troll]

Yes, he still hadn't completed the task of collecting rock troll blood.

As for the others…

[Hunting Task: Drowner II (Kill Drowners 463/500)]

[Hunting Task: Foglet I (Kill Foglets 2/100)]

[Hunting Task: Ghoul I (Kill Ghouls 14/200)]

[Hunting Task: Wraith I (Kill Wraiths 12/50)]

The hunting task closest to completion had originally been Drowner II since those monsters were everywhere. On the way from Kaer Morhen, Allen and Hughes had killed many. He had initially thought that this task would be completed first, but now...

The Witcher glanced at the rock troll corpses nearby, then at the rock trolls still charging towards the entrance, and gritted his teeth, making a decision.

"Francesca, wait here. I'm going to check the situation and will be right back!"

"Huh?"

Before Francesca could react, she suddenly realized the Witcher...

Had disappeared!

....…

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)

175. The Blood of the Rock Troll.

176. The Scent of the Witcher.

177. Another Francesca in the World.

178. Unspeakable Family Affairs.

179. The New Item.