256. He Is Already Dead!
"Hehehehe~"
Hearing Allen's words, Ianna paused for a moment, exchanged a glance with the old duke who had walked over, and then kindly laughed.
"It's nothing, just a few wolves..."
Then, she took Allen's hand and led him to the clearing. Salt, chalk, magic-infused dust, and two small containers of yellow liquid surrounded a tripod made of three wooden sticks. Noticing Allen's gaze fixed on the containers, Ianna smiled and explained: "That's wyvern urine."
"This is a simple exorcism ritual, used to repel beasts and monsters. The core of the ritual is the wyvern urine."
While explaining, Ianna drew a circle on the ground with the chalk. Allen crouched nearby, carefully observing her movements.
"The entire ritual is about spreading the scent of the urine and amplifying the unique magical fluctuations inherent to the wyvern..."
This part Allen understood. It was like marking territory with urine, much like animals do.
However...
"Does it have to be wyvern urine?" he asked curiously.
Seeing that Allen had picked up on the key point, Ianna nodded with satisfaction: "Of course not. We're using wyvern urine this time because the old duke's warehouse has this material, and it's the most effective. After all, wyverns naturally carry a trace of a dragon's authority."
"Any material with a strong magical beast's scent and magical properties would work, but you need to be cautious..."
Ianna paused, emphasizing: "Urine, feces, or other bodily secretions can be used, but under no circumstances should you use blood..."
"Moreover, you need to understand the local distribution of monsters. If the primary material comes from a creature's predator, it could easily attract that predator instead..."
Hearing this, Allen's eyebrows twitched.
So, if you chose the right materials, this exorcism ritual could also become a "monster lure"?
To him, this seemed more useful than an exorcism ritual!
Regular witchers might not dare use it, worried about attracting creatures they couldn't handle. But he wasn't afraid.
He was close to breaking the curse of the evil god, and in the world of witchers, with his spatial skills, even if he couldn't win a fight, he could always escape. This exorcism ritual was practically a monster-hunting tool!
"It was originally scheduled for you to learn this tomorrow, but since the opportunity arose, we can go ahead and learn it today..."
As Ianna finished drawing the circle, the ritual seemed to reach a challenging point, and she stopped smiling: "Pay attention, the next part is where the real difficulty of the ritual lies..."
Hearing her, Allen immediately focused all his attention on every tiny movement Ianna made, not noticing a guard approaching from the direction where he had killed the wolves.
The guard walked over to the old duke, who stood straight, and whispered to him about the state of the eight wolf carcasses.
After a while, the old duke waved his hand.
The guard bowed and returned to his post.
Eight wolves wouldn't surprise the old duke, who had seen much in his time, but they weren't something a newly trialed witcher could easily deal with. Moreover, from the way the wolves died, even an experienced witcher would have a hard time dispatching them so easily.
Therefore...
This witcher named Allen might not have the strength of a witcher master, but he certainly wasn't weak.
Yes.
Even now, the old duke wasn't fully convinced by the Blue Death's words.
He had fought for Temeria all his life and served as court chancellor in Vizima for over a decade. When it came to judging people, he never trusted rumors, only his own eyes. What's more, Ianna had insisted on bringing the witcher along.
What could that mean?
So, he had to confirm it for himself. Of course, it was also because the reports from the sorcerer's advisors were simply too legendary.
A newly trialed witcher had killed four large magical beasts and saved the male mages' city—Ban Ard...
Even the heroes from legends who had destroyed evil gods for humanity weren't this incredible. It was more far-fetched than a story made up by a bard...
----------------------
An hour later.
"Bzz~"
The wolf medallion trembled.
Under the bright spring sun, the ritual circle flashed with a barely noticeable white light. A strong stench wafted from the circle, causing Allen's nose to twitch involuntarily:
"There's still about ten days until the May Festival. Is it okay to start the ritual this early?" he asked curiously.
Ianna smoothed out her hair, which had become messy from setting up the ritual, and said:
"The scent and magical fluctuations take time to spread, and the monsters need time to flee, so this is the perfect moment to set up the circle."
That made sense... Allen nodded.
"Let's go, we have four more places to set up..." The old duke glanced at the sky as he headed toward the carriage.
Ianna and Allen followed closely behind.
-----------------------
It was hard to tell whether they were lucky or unlucky.
After setting up the ritual at three more locations, the group hadn't encountered a single monster.
Allen couldn't help but wonder if his "models" had been scared off by the size of the convoy. After all, ghouls weren't as mindless as drowners. They even knew how to coordinate attacks like wolf packs, using flanking maneuvers and rear strikes.
Because of this...
Besides Allen feeling a little disappointed, Ianna and Duke Mason also seemed somewhat let down, even puzzled.
Over the past few years...
Every year, while the number of ghouls attacking the carriages wasn't large or particularly strong, there would always be at least one wave of them at the last three ritual sites. Yet this year, not a single ghoul had shown up.
But since the main goal of this trip was to prepare for the May Festival by setting up the rituals...
Though it was strange, it was still a good thing. They certainly weren't going to go out of their way to seek trouble with monsters.
After setting up the second ritual, the convoy stopped for lunch.
Allen joined Ianna in enjoying a grand meal.
Beef stew in red wine, roasted veal ribs, apple pie, crème brûlée...
And some kind of fruit wine that looked expensive at a glance. Although there hadn't been any monster attacks, Allen hadn't just sat idle, eating.
Apart from the second ritual, which was completed by Ianna, Allen had performed the remaining two rituals entirely on his own.
This left the old duke visibly stunned, and he even tested the waters by asking Ianna twice if she had taught Allen the ritual in advance. Only to be met with the archpriestess's loud bragging and mockery.
Once again, the witcher realized the high standing of the Melitele Temple on the Northern Continent, at least in Temeria.
"Rumble~ Rumble~"
The carriage continued toward the final destination.
Sunlight poured down on the black carriage, warming the interior to the perfect temperature for a spring nap. Indeed, some of the passengers were resting with their eyes closed.
The old duke and Ianna, given their age, were exhausted from the journey and leaned back on the soft cushions with their eyes closed. Throughout the journey, Allen had been puzzled.
He understood why the archpriestess was here—to set up the rituals.
But what was the old duke's purpose? He wasn't contributing to the rituals at all, so why had he come along for the entire trip?
And even though the exorcism rituals required some skill, they weren't so difficult that no other priest in the temple could perform them besides the archpriestess.
The archpriestess looked like he was in his seventies or eighties, and the old Duke seemed even older.
Why isn't anyone stopping this?
Listening to the creaking of the carriage wheels, Allen, out of boredom, carefully studied the two elderly men with their eyes closed.
At that moment...
The unexpected situation everyone had been waiting for arrived.
"Shhhh~"
The strange sound was faint, dampened by the carriage, but still picked up by the Witcher's keen hearing. He instinctively looked toward the carved iron door of the carriage.
The next second...
Continuous whistling and commotion came from the front and back of the carriage.
"Knock knock knock~"
The door of the carriage was knocked. The usually calm driver, for once, spoke with a slight tremor in his voice.
"D-Duke, hold on tight. A large group of ghouls just charged out from the nearby woods…"
At the same time...
"Watch out for the ghouls!"
"Alert!!! Protect the Duke!!!"
The knights' frantic shouts echoed into the carriage.
"How unruly!" The old Duke glared and barked before asking, "Speak clearly, how large is this group?"
Allen was concentrating, listening to the commotion outside.
He noticed that after the old Duke's scolding, not only did the driver's heartbeat calm down, but even the knights around them seemed to regain order in controlling their horses.
"I can't see clearly, Duke."
"The ghouls rushed out of the woods, and now the tall grass is covering them. We can only see something trailing behind the convoy in the grass…"
"But there are at least… at least twenty…"
"About thirty, plus a big one in the middle…" Allen opened his eyes and interrupted, then stood up and faced the old Duke, whose face had tightened. "Do not stop the convoy. Wait for me at the last checkpoint."
"After dealing with the ghouls behind us, I will catch up."
As soon as he finished speaking...
Allen immediately opened the carriage door. He hesitated for a moment, then took two bottles of necrophage oil from the pouch at his waist and handed them to the stunned driver in front of the carriage: "Necrophage oil. It works even without silver weapons, just apply it to your weapons…"
Without waiting for a reaction from the old Duke or Ianna, he lightly grabbed the door with his right hand and flipped himself onto the top of the carriage.
Inside the carriage...
The old Duke gripped his black cane tightly, only snapping back to his senses when he heard a light thud from above. He hesitated for a moment, then looked at Ianna, who was pulling back the black velvet curtains to peer outside: "Was that brat giving me orders?"
Ianna chuckled and solemnly nodded: "Yes, he was definitely giving you orders!"
"That snot-nosed brat who barely has hair on his face, he's got guts!" The old Duke cursed but then paused, his expression becoming serious as he asked:"Thirty ghouls... can he handle it?"
Ianna's laughter faltered.
If a monster is weak, traveling in packs makes them happy.
Every Northerner knew this proverb.
Thirty ghouls, and on a plain no less...
Even a veteran Witcher master like Vesemir might struggle to handle that.
Especially since Allen mentioned there was a big one too. Ianna had never seen Allen in action, just like the old Duke, who had only heard of him through others. She had been calm before, but now, with the Duke's question, doubt and concern began to creep into her mind.
It wasn't just because he was Vera's child, but also because, during these past few days, she had genuinely grown fond of this extraordinarily gifted, yet hardworking boy. If he were to face danger because of her impulsive invitation...
She didn't know how she'd face Vera—or herself—if something happened to him...
"Since he sensed the number of monsters and voluntarily went to fight, he'll be fine!" The old Duke's self-assuring statement snapped Ianna out of her thoughts.
Before she could say anything, the driver, holding two bottles of dark red potions, spoke from the half-open door: "Duke, these two bottles..."
"Do as Master Allen instructed, then give one to Arthur..." The old Duke's face grew stern as he glanced at the longsword sheathed at the driver's waist, commanding: "And... tell the rear guard not to worry about the ghouls. Follow the carriage forward. Someone will handle them..."
"Yes, Duke!" The driver straightened up and saluted, then gently closed the carriage door.
At that moment...
Thud
A light sound echoed from above, and the entire carriage seemed to jolt slightly. Then, it began to sway a bit, as though it was lighter without one person on top.
Hearing the shouts of the knights behind them, the old Duke fell silent for a few seconds and glanced at Ianna, whose face was full of worry.
"He'll be fine," he said.
-----------------------
Three minutes earlier...
The Witcher grabbed the edge of the carriage, his right arm tensed.
The next second...
Boom
With a soft sound, he leaped gracefully onto the roof of the carriage.
The wind howled.
The grasslands below waved like a green sea under the sunlight.
From his elevated position, the Witcher instantly spotted the sickening, gray-brown figures among the grass. The closest one was barely two meters away from the rearmost knight—within arm's reach.
Rushing headlong into over thirty ghouls wasn't an option if he wanted to protect the convoy.
"I need to deal with the immediate threat to the convoy first." The Witcher made up his mind.
"Quaaaa-quaaaa…"
The howling wind masked the mysterious incantation he was chanting. A half-meter-long ice spear, as thick as a baby's arm, shimmered with a frigid blue light.
Within two seconds, it formed in Allen's palm.
Immediately after...
Monster Hunt
At that moment...
The nearest ghoul leaped from the grass, baring its bloodthirsty fangs as it lunged at the knight at the rear of the convoy with lightning speed. Though well-trained, the knight's horse was galloping forward, leaving him unable to attack the ghoul in time. In panic, he swung his longsword helplessly as the ghoul's grotesque face closed in.
He could almost smell the stench of his own impending death.
But in the next moment...
Swoosh!
The blue ice spear tore through the air, freezing the very soul of the ghoul as it pierced its mouth and pinned it to the soft ground.
"Phew... hiss…"
The knight, having just escaped death, gasped and turned around abruptly. He saw a pair of ice-blue cat-like eyes, as cold as the ice spear, seemingly staring into his soul. That god-like indifference to life nearly stopped his heart, branding itself into his memory. Before he could recover from the shock...
Swoosh!
Another deathly spear flew through the air, its terrifying sound growing larger in his vision. For a moment, his mind went completely blank.
It was as if, at that moment...
He was already dead...
....
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257. I, Allen, Declare You the Strongest!
258. We are family, aren't we?
259. The Unavoidable Soft Rice.
260. The Fearsome Good Luck.
261. Melitele Again?