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266. The Consequences of Spreading Rumors About the Wild Hunt.

The Wild Hunt?

The Witcher was stunned for a moment and instinctively glanced at Ianna. Ianna smiled and nodded, signaling him to speak truthfully.

So this is the surprise she mentioned?

He didn't have to wait for the May Festival to end and go to the old duke himself. Now, the old duke had come to him instead...

Not knowing why the old duke had come personally to inquire, Allen carefully considered his words and said: "At the time, I was at Blackbeard's Inn in Flotsam and didn't witness it firsthand…"

The old duke frowned.

"But…"

"Afterward, we questioned the residents of Flotsam and the travelers who were there at the time…"

"Skeleton horses, an army of specters, and greenish-blue flames…"

"It matched the descriptions in ancient texts perfectly…"

"Three or four hundred skeletal knights rode out of the void, as if there was an invisible gate in the sky…"

"As they passed through Flotsam, one of the Wild Hunt casually waved a staff…"

"A blue magical glow fell like a meteor and destroyed the massive marketplace in a single strike…"

At this point, the Witcher paused briefly. "At that time, Master Vesemir and I also noticed something unusual. We were about to leave Blackbeard's Inn to investigate…"

"We hadn't fully stepped outside, and before we could even get a clear look, we were gravely injured by the aftershock of the spell."

"And in the destroyed marketplace, ice spikes taller than the walls of Ellander were formed. Even when we left Flotsam a day later, they hadn't fully melted…"

Upon hearing Allen's description, the old duke furrowed his brow even more tightly. They hadn't even encountered the Wild Hunt directly, and yet they were severely injured by the spell's aftershock...

If this had been three or four days ago, before he'd seen Allen's abilities, he might have thought it was because the young Witcher wasn't strong enough or had been careless.

But now…

After experiencing that ghoul attack, not only did the knights of his guard speak highly of the young Witcher, but ever since that day, they had been eager to visit Melitele's temple to have drinks with him.

The alghoul's head, half the height of a person, still hung in the castle's hall—a standard large monster. And when the young Witcher returned from his hunt, the duke saw clearly that Allen didn't have a single scratch on him.

Besides.

He had heard of Vesemir's reputation long ago and knew that his strength was even greater.

"It seems we'll need to revise our assessment of the Wild Hunt's power upward…" the old duke thought to himself.

After calculating the matter in his mind, he looked up at the Witcher and nodded slightly, saying sincerely: "Thank you for your information, Witcher."

"This will be very useful to Temeria."

Allen was taken aback by the thanks.

A few days ago, after saving the lives of an entire caravan, he hadn't even received a word of thanks from the old duke. And now, it was just a few words...

But before he could respond, the old duke turned to Ianna, who had been smiling the whole time, and said: "Ianna, could you help me find the temple's records on the Wild Hunt?"

The archpriestess smiled and glanced at Allen, saying: "I've already started searching."

"Hm?" The old duke, leaning on his staff, tilted his head.

"Allen asked me to gather information on the Wild Hunt as soon as he arrived at the temple," the archpriestess paused for a moment before adding, "Master Vesemir is currently organizing the records in the library…"

"Why?" The old duke was taken aback by this and then curiously looked at the Witcher, asking.

Allen was silent for a few seconds before he recounted the experience of Fra Durie, whose husband's life had been forever frozen in the marketplace. Then, after a brief pause, he softly said: "There are many ordinary people like her who have died at the hands of the Wild Hunt. It's just that most of their relatives aren't in Flotsam…"

Hearing Allen's words, the old duke was silent for a long time. The chiseled lines of his face softened significantly.

"Rumors are, after all, just rumors…" he muttered inexplicably.

Without further explanation, he nodded goodbye to Ianna and Allen before boarding his carriage and leaving.

At this point, the young Witcher was still pondering what "rumors are just rumors" meant.

Clatter, clatter…

The sound of the wheels gradually faded away. Allen snapped back to reality and looked at Ianna, asking: "Is… is that it?"

"Duke Mason only came to ask about the appearance of the Wild Hunt in Flotsam?"

What about the formula for necrophage oil and the disturbances during the May Festival?

"This is no small matter…" the archpriestess withdrew her gaze from the black carriage and smiled. "I received word yesterday that two direct heirs of prominent noble families, along with a baron, died in Flotsam."

"The noble council in Vizima's court has been in an uproar these past few days."

"Mason likely received orders from the king, which is why he came to inquire about the situation."

"However…" the archpriestess paused for a moment, noticing the hopeful expression on Allen's face, and then dashed his hopes, saying, "Although three nobles died, when it comes to a mythical creature like the Wild Hunt, it's not certain that the noble council will take any targeted action…"

"Nor is it certain that the families who lost their heads or heirs will do anything…"

The Witcher was puzzled and instinctively asked, "Why?"

The archpriestess sighed and said: "To them, the Wild Hunt is a natural disaster…"

"How do people seek revenge against earthquakes or tsunamis?"

The Witcher didn't understand. "But didn't you just say that this wasn't a small matter?"

"It isn't a small matter," the archpriestess smiled mysteriously. "The families who lost their heads will want to keep their titles and seats on the noble council, and the nobles who lost their heirs will bristle like hedgehogs, protecting themselves from the covetous eyes of their peers…"

"As for Mason…"

"The noble rebellion has only recently ended, and the king is wary of whether this is the sign of a new rebellion, or whether the remnants of the previous one are still stirring…"

"As the king's brother and a member of the royal family, Mason naturally has to investigate the cause and effect."

"And the least important matter in all this is avenging those three dead nobles, even though…"

The archpriestess paused, her tone complicated, and said:"They were nobles too, someone's son, husband, or father…"

The Witcher fell silent at her words. But deep inside, he wasn't angry or upset.

Even though he said he was gathering information about the Wild Hunt for the sake of the mother and child who had lost their father and husband, in truth, it was more for himself. After all, there was a strong possibility that the Wild Hunt was coming for him. But Ianna didn't think that way.

She saw the Witcher lower his head, looking dejected, and felt her heart soften. Suddenly, she regretted revealing such ugly truths and harsh realities so bluntly.

"Maybe… it was too soon…" she thought. "Allen has just left Kaer Morhen, full of youthful zeal, eager to slay monsters and save humanity…"

But then she remembered the "blood and fire" the young Witcher had spoken of on their way here, and sighed. The Child of Destiny would inevitably encounter humanity's darker side sooner or later.

It was better to prepare him now than to have reality crush him unexpectedly later on. At that time, the cost might be more than just emotional pain and discomfort.

However...

"Good child, this is the reality," Ianna gently ruffled the witcher's hair, then changed her tone, "Of course, it's not entirely without purpose..."

The witcher raised his head.

"At the very least, the noble council will surely offer a substantial bounty." Ianna smiled.

Allen nodded, saying nothing more. He wasn't satisfied because of the large sum of money. As Ianna had said, the nobles hadn't thought of eliminating the Wild Hunt because, in legend, they were considered a natural disaster.

But...

Are the Wild Hunt really a natural disaster?

No!

They are just Aen Elle!

Elves, of the same origin as the Aen Seidhe, who had been pushed to the edges of the world by humans...

The witcher didn't believe it.

When the nobles realize that those invading them are elves, will they still react the same way, doing nothing?

The question now is...

How to convey this information to the nobles in the most credible way...

With the May Festival approaching, and with Allen's prophecy of "accidents" happening yesterday, the High Priest had a lot to rearrange and prepare today.

Therefore,

After seeing off the old Duke, and talking for a while at the temple gate about the Wild Hunt, Allen and Ianna parted ways. But instead of returning directly to the sanctuary, the witcher inquired about the way and headed straight for the temple's library.

After brewing so many potions yesterday, he needed to test them on an opponent.

Additionally,

So many days had passed.

He wondered if Vesemir had found any useful information...

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

"Clop clop~"

After leaving the Melitele temple, the old Duke's black carriage proceeded along the main road of the city, heading straight for the inner city.

At the center of the inner city stood a castle.

In fact, the entire city of Ellander existed to protect this heavily guarded fortress.

Crossing the drawbridge and passing through the enormous gates, the black carriage drove onto the wide courtyard within the castle and came to a stop.

Creak~

The carriage door opened.

An impeccably dressed middle-aged man, with a neat appearance, elegantly but swiftly stepped forward, ready to assist. However, he was waved away by the stern-faced old Duke.

The middle-aged man, who appeared to be the butler, didn't take offense. Standing aside, he bowed slightly and reported: "Master, the wyvern urine you requested yesterday is insufficient in the storeroom to meet the required amount."

"But I inquired with the merchants this morning, and there is stock in Vizima, though it will take three or four days to arrive..."

"Send Augusta to fetch it," the old Duke waved dismissively. "I pay her ten thousand orens a year as my magic consultant, not so she can spend every day in Ellander hosting tea parties with noblewomen."

The middle-aged butler nodded and then said: "The newly arranged patrol route for the May Festival will be inadequate with just the city guard soldiers."

"Additionally, reports from the city guard indicate that there are at least twice as many travelers arriving in Ellander to celebrate the May Festival this year compared to last year."

The old Duke stopped, thought for a moment, and gave his instructions: "Deploy the monster hunters as well..."

"Also..."

"Have the city guards conduct more thorough inspections in the coming days. Don't let any suspicious people into the city."

"Understood, Master," the middle-aged butler responded, paused for a second, and then added:

"Master, the manager from the Aretuza Civil Cooperative Organization is waiting for you in the reception hall..."

"The Aretuza Civil Cooperative Organization?" the old Duke was momentarily puzzled by the unfamiliar name.

The middle-aged butler explained perceptively: "The Aretuza Civil Cooperative Organization is a guild that sells magical items created by the sorceresses of Aretuza..."

The old Duke frowned slightly at this.

"What is it now?"

"Does Augusta need more money to buy jewelry?"

"What excuse is it this time?"

"It's not Lady Augusta," the middle-aged butler shook his head. "A few days ago, she already raised her consulting fees under some pretext."

"And since it was within the budget you set for the magic consultant, I didn't report it."

After a brief pause, he added:

"The person waiting in the reception hall claims... that he was sent directly from Aretuza by Lady Vera, saying there's a... uh... deal involving some sort of sword oil... necrophage oil, that you would certainly be interested in."

"Vera..." the old Duke raised an eyebrow. "Isn't she the 'Scarlet Fox'?"

"Yes, Master," the middle-aged butler replied. "She's the famed alchemy master."

Vera... necrophage oil...

The old Duke muttered quietly:"So Ianna wasn't lying this time. That boy really did learn alchemy from the Scarlet Fox..."

"And it seems their relationship is quite close..."

"Master, what did you say?" The middle-aged butler hadn't caught the last part. "Should I send the person away?"

"Nothing," the old Duke waved his hand, thought for a few seconds, and then ordered: "Ten thousand orens—buy as many bottles of sword oil as that will get."

"And then..." the old Duke paused briefly: "I want a long-term partnership with them, as binding as possible."

"Go ask what their terms are. As long as they aren't too outrageous, agree to them all..."

The middle-aged butler was taken aback. He couldn't help but glance up at the Duke's impassive face. Agree to all their terms, as long as they aren't too outrageous?

Even their own industries didn't get such "generous" terms!

The butler pondered.

The Scarlet Fox was renowned across the Northern Continent for her life-extending potions. Could it be that the old Duke wanted them for this reason?

But hadn't the old Duke always advocated for natural aging and death, much like the archpriestess of Melitele?

Even when the young Duke managed to acquire a life-extending potion, he didn't drink it...

"What is it?" the old Duke's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I understand, Master," the butler replied promptly, hesitated for a moment, and then added, "But Lady Vera specializes in life-extending potions. If you want a long-term partnership, the terms will surely be high, so..."

"We're not partnering with Vera!" the old Duke said.

"Huh?"

"We're partnering with the creator of the sword oil formula. Just tell him that, and he'll understand." The old Duke waved his hand impatiently.

The Scarlet Fox, an alchemy master, had sent someone from Aretuza specifically to sell items, and they weren't even Vera's own creations? The middle-aged butler was a bit confused.

But he didn't show it. After respectfully nodding, he was about to head to the reception hall.

"Wait!"

The old Duke stopped him.

"After you finalize the deal with Lady Vera's manager, look into who has been spreading those rumors about witchers in Ellander lately..."

"And then..." the old Duke paused to think,

"Have them all expelled from the city. Make sure they never set foot in Ellander again!"

....

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267. Vesemir's Little Note.

268. Offensive and Defensive Reversal.

269. The Spirit-Summoning Ritual.

270. Yennefer Doesn't Feel Pain at All.

271. A Dying Man.

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