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176. The Scent of the Witcher.

The Giant Troll, whose body was as large as a small mountain…

Would its blood be more potent?

For example, would a single drop of the Giant Troll's blood be equivalent to two, three, or even more drops of an ordinary Rock Troll's blood?

The Witcher pondered.

It was a natural thought. After all, the Giant Troll's massive size suggested that it must have something special to grow so large, right?

But in the next second, as he glanced at the surrounding Rock Troll corpses of various sizes, Allen mentally dismissed the idea.

"If the blood requirement for the 'Summon I' task really changed based on the size of the Rock Trolls, then with Big Stone and Little Stone being twice as different in size, why did the progress only increase by one task point?"

Of course, Allen wasn't going to give up collecting the Giant Troll's blood. After all, it was still a task objective.

"Hiss~"

Once his magic had recovered sufficiently and the adverse effects of his fog form had subsided, Allen took a deep breath and infused magic back into the "Foglet Arm Bone."

Poof~

With a barely audible sound, the Witcher transformed into a faint mist and drifted over to the pit five meters away, returning to his physical form.

[Ding! Would you like to absorb the Giant Troll's blood?]

Without hesitation, Allen confirmed the prompt.

[Ding! Task: Summon I (Collect Rock Troll Blood: 18/20)]

Huh?

Eighteen?

Allen was stunned for a moment. He mentally called up his Witcher's Notebook, confirming the system's notification two or three times.

A single drop of the Giant Troll's blood was worth the equivalent of eight regular Rock Troll's blood!

"Why is this Giant Troll so special?"

Allen was puzzled for a moment but quickly suppressed his curiosity, shelving the unanswered question for later. After all, he was currently in the middle of a battlefield between humans and monsters, not the best place for deep thinking.

But since he still needed two more drops of Giant Troll blood…

 

Allen scanned his surroundings.

The Giant Troll's injury had given him an idea. If even under the Rock Troll's dwelling there were traces of blood, then surely the other weaker Giant trolls should also have left blood behind.

As expected.

With careful observation, Allen saw that the places where the other Giant Troll had once stood also had blood pools or dark stains. Thus, Allen resumed the process of fogging, collecting, recovering magic, fogging, collecting, and recovering magic…

In just five minutes, he had collected four more drops of Giant Troll blood. However, he didn't immediately submit them to the Witcher's Notebook to complete the task. Instead, he stored the blood in an empty potion vial.

Allen still remembered the unexpected 'Conjunction of the Spheres' that had caused him so much trouble when he completed his first hunting task. If it weren't for the Mist Pearl, he would've nearly died under the Ice Spear Curse of the Drowner King.

Completing the "Summon I" task here, regardless of what monster the Conjunction might bring, wouldn't be ideal. By storing the blood and choosing the right moment to complete the task, Allen hoped to create an unexpected opportunity.

As he thought about it, Allen realized that his most powerful tool wasn't his signs, swordsmanship, or even the 'Monster Hunt' ability—it was the ability to randomly summon powerful monsters via the Conjunction of the Spheres.

"All right, I've collected all the Rock Giant blood I can."

Allen glanced at the retreating Tower Shields that were slowly withdrawing into the depths of the cave, then at the furious, enraged Giant Troll, and prepared to return to Francesca. Although there were still eight Giant Troll whose blood hadn't been collected, their territory was either too close to the battlefield or too open, with no cover.

Now that Allen could complete the "Summon I" task at any time, there was no need to take unnecessary risks.

Poof~

Magic surged, and mist appeared. The next moment, when Allen reappeared, he was already in the shadows of a dark cave.

Francesca looked at the mist gathering into human form with surprise, unable to resist asking: "Allen… this ability to turn into mist, is it…?"

"It's just a small Witcher trick, as you saw. Turning into mist to go invisible, nothing more."

Nothing more?

Francesca found it hard to comprehend.

Allen's numerous abilities had gradually shattered her preconceived notions about Witchers. His unmatched strength despite his young age, his knowledge of identifying deep illusions, the strange potions that could change his appearance and give him night vision, and these endless little tricks…

The Witchers even had two completely different methods of becoming invisible.

At this point, Francesca wasn't sure how much of the 'Aen Seidhe' clan's knowledge about Witchers was still valid.

"Thankfully, these Witchers haven't sided with King Kaedwen. Otherwise, with such a wide array of skills, the Aen Seidhe would be in real trouble."

With that thought, Francesca's frown slightly relaxed. She glanced at Allen, who seemed lost in thought after de-misting, and suddenly a new idea formed in her mind.

"Perhaps I could try to win over these Witchers for the Free Elves?"

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

At that moment, Allen was unaware that while he was still figuring out how to win the elves as allies, the future Elf Queen had already thought of recruiting the Witchers. Silently shaking off the weakness left by his fog form, Allen glanced at the nearly withdrawn Tower Shields before rising and heading toward the illusion's boundary.

"Let's go, Francesca. We've assessed both sides; now we can return and search for our target."

"What did you discover?" Francesca asked curiously.

"The Kaedwen army has suffered heavy losses, and many Giant Troll are dead as well…"

Isn't that something you could easily tell just by looking? Francesca thought, feeling that Allen's response was a bit too dismissive.

As Allen led the way back along their original path, he added: "And… in the near future, these king's soldiers will suffer another significant defeat."

Francesca paused for a moment.

She glanced at the noisy but clearly outmatched Giant Troll and curiously asked: "How did you come to that conclusion?"

Allen turned to give Francesca a mysterious smile and said: "A small Witcher trick, nothing worth mentioning."

Another Witcher trick?

Francesca froze for a moment.

But she knew she wouldn't get more out of him, so she chose to follow Allen while shifting the conversation to something more in line with her interests.

"Allen, you mentioned that you're a Witcher of the Wolf School?"

Allen hesitated for a moment, unsure of what Francesca was getting at, but he pulled out the wolf medallion hidden under his leather armor and nodded: "Yes, I'm a Witcher of the Wolf School, from Kaer Morhen, in the northern Blue Mountains."

"If I remember correctly, of the six Witcher schools, the Wolf School's principle is to remain neutral…"

Francesca paused, seemingly choosing her words carefully: "But now you're…"

"But now why am I accepting a request from elves—who are clearly enemies of the human kingdom of Kaedwen?"

Allen stopped walking for a few seconds, then continued without looking back.

"Hmm~"

Francesca nodded, her gentle hum barely escaping through the black mask that covered her face.

The next moment, silence fell between them.

Tap... tap... tap...

The sound of the elf's footsteps echoed in the dark, lightless passage. At that moment, Francesca suddenly noticed that when the Witcher walked, there wasn't the slightest sound of footsteps. And it wasn't because he was walking slowly; his pace was completely normal. In the passage, the sound of footsteps echoed from only one person.

As they walked on.

For a brief moment, she felt as if she were walking alone in the dark. An inexplicable sense of fear welled up inside her.

"When did Allen's footsteps start disappearing?"

"Three days ago, didn't his footsteps still make sound?"

She wanted to step forward and pat the Witcher on the shoulder, but she was afraid that when he turned around, his face would be twisted and ghastly like that of a wraith.

"I shouldn't have asked that question."

Francesca suddenly regretted having asked that earlier question.

At that moment.

"Wolf..."

Thud... thud...

Panicked footsteps interrupted Allen.

He turned his head, glancing at Francesca, who had retreated two steps in fear. Shaking his head in mild confusion, he continued: "The Wolf School still hopes to remain neutral, but we were forced into a war we never wanted to join..."

"So we had no choice but to resist..."

Under her black mask, Francesca blushed. She quickened her steps to catch up with Allen.

"After all..."

After a brief pause, Allen stopped, turning to gaze into Francesca's evasive blue eyes: "When you're trying to kill someone, you can't expect them not to fight back with all they've got..."

After considering it carefully, Allen decided not to hide the truth. Even though the Elves had been in decline for a long time, they still had a population of at least several hundred thousand.

Due to the Elves' superior physical abilities and their longevity, at least ten thousand of them could serve as warriors. By comparison, the Wolf School had only forty or fifty members. And the destruction of Kaer Morhen was looming closer. They needed to show goodwill to potential allies first.

However, Allen had doubts about how much influence the future Elf Queen, and current runaway princess Francesca, would actually have within the elven ranks. So this was merely an attempt, a gesture of goodwill.

His real target was still the red-haired elf— Ida Emean, the Sage of the Elves.

She had promised.

If Allen could find a human couple and help them escape Kaedwen, he would receive what he desired most. Although Ida Emean's cryptic words were vague, Allen guessed that what she referred to was the support of the Elves.

"When you're trying to kill someone, you can't expect them not to fight back..."

Francesca chewed over the Witcher's words, her eyes growing brighter, and her gaze toward Allen became increasingly warm. She naturally understood the hidden meaning in his words.

However...

"Just how foolish must the King of Kaedwen be to push the Wolf School to the other side?"

Francesca scoffed inwardly, glancing at the Witcher's back. She was about to say something to entice him to join her people when—

Suddenly, Allen slowed his steps.

Dazzling white light illuminated the end of the passage ahead.

The illusion—The Orchard—was near.

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

"Humans… fled… trolls… victory…"

The Tower Shields vanished at the cave entrance, and the simple-minded, jubilant cheers echoed through the cave.

Though Rock Trolls possessed some intelligence, it was equivalent to that of a five- or six-year-old human child. They didn't understand what attrition warfare meant or what it meant to retreat in order to advance. They only knew that once again they had driven away the evil, insect-like, annoying humans.

"Trolls… victory… eat meat…"

A few even danced at the entrance of the cave battlefield, curling into balls and rolling around. But not all trolls shared in the celebration.

"…sob… little stone… sob… little pot… sob… little gem… sob… no meat…"

The sobbing of one Rock Troll brought the celebration to a halt. Several Rock Trolls could no longer eat meat, and this saddened all the meat-loving trolls. This scene had repeated many times over the past three days.

Simple beings experience joy and sorrow in short bursts. And Rock Trolls, being simple creatures, were no different. But this time, their happiness would be even shorter-lived because...

"…no more meat…"

Mountain Stone's deep voice rumbled.

The food prepared before hibernation had been consumed due to the constant fighting after their awakening, and it had run out a day ago.

What they had been eating over the last two days was Mountain Stone's own rations, but even with frugal portions, there hadn't been enough for many meals.

The Rock Trolls' sleep had been interrupted too early, and their food hadn't arrived as expected.

"…no more meat… trolls… victory… no more meat…" The other trolls slumped in dejection.

Boom!

Mountain Stone sat down heavily.

He had given all the food to the little trolls, and he hadn't eaten in a day. The continuous battles had left him exhausted, and now even supporting his own weight was becoming difficult. As he sat, Mountain Stone's mind went blank.

But vaguely...

Rotting, sour, and foul...

He seemed to catch the scent of food, the most delicious kind.

The other trolls, seeing Mountain Stone suddenly sit down, grew anxious.

"…no more meat… Mountain Stone… down…"

"…victory… no more meat… Mountain Stone… down…"

"…sob… little stone… sob… little pot… sob… little gem… sob… Mountain Stone… sob… Mountain Stone…"

The cave chamber became noisy.

Until...

"…no more meat… eat meat… humans… enemies… eat meat…"

A sudden roar from one of the Rock Trolls silenced the others, drawing their gaze to the ground.

"…no more meat… fire… dead humans… no more meat…"

Indeed, most of the human corpses had been burned to ash and cinders. The chamber became noisy again, until Mountain Stone slowly stood up.

Boom... boom... boom...

Heavy yet weak footsteps reverberated, shaking the ground. Under the watchful gaze of the Rock Trolls with their pea-sized eyes, Giant Troll approached the fallen bodies of the Rock Trolls and suddenly paused.

He bent down, grabbing a handful of blackened, greenish flesh.

The movement stirred a breeze through the chamber, carrying the stench of rotting flesh to the nose of every Rock Troll.

Gulp~

The sound of swallowing echoed almost in unison. But to their surprise, Giant Troll didn't immediately put the rotten meat into his mouth.

Hiss~

Instead, he brought it close to his nose and took a deep, sharp breath.

"…this is the scent of a Witcher!"

....…

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

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

177. Another Francesca in the World.

178. Unspeakable Family Affairs.

179. The New Item.

180. As You Wish.

181. The Unbreakable Shield.

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