255. Where's the Ghoul?
"Our destination may be outside the city, but it's not an isolated area. There are villages nearby..."
After the carriage had been moving for a while, Ianna suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence inside the carriage.
Allen looked towards her.
Ianna, sitting beside him, leaned against a soft cushion, her expression gentle. Across from them, the Old Duke rested his hands on his cane, sitting upright. Ever since he gave the order for the coachman to depart, he had closed his eyes to rest.
Even now, hearing Ianna speak, he didn't open his eyes.
There are villages nearby, which meant that there likely wouldn't be many monsters along the way...
Allen thought about Ianna's words and felt a bit more confident.
It made sense, after all.
If there really were any major monsters that might attack, how could the Duke let the soldiers leave?
"What kinds of monsters are typically encountered during these ceremonies?" The responsible witcher asked.
"Necrophage are the most likely," Ianna thought for a moment and sighed, "In recent years, Temeria has gone through several wars..."
"Although Falka was killed thirty years ago at the Fort of Houtborg by the old King of Temeria, Goidemar, the chaos she stirred up didn't end so quickly…"
"Eight years ago..."
"The last remnant of Falka's rebellion was crushed by Duke Mason south of Ellander, in an unnamed hill."
The old Duke's nose twitched slightly at this mention, but he didn't open his eyes or speak. However, Allen, with his sharp senses, could tell that the Duke slightly raised his head.
"And then, five years ago..."
"The plague known as the Black Death broke out in the capital, Vizima."
"To facilitate the priests and healers of the temple in treating the afflicted, the sick commoners were quarantined in the Cam Valley, not far from ellander..."
"And three years ago…"
Ianna glanced at the old Duke before continuing:"Due to the royal family's disgraceful behavior, the nobles of Temeria staged a rebellion..."
"For certain reasons, one of the battlefields was also quite close to ellander…"
"Hmph!" The old Duke finally let out a rare, displeased grunt, opening his eyes to glare at Ianna.
"What is it?" The Duke's reaction seemed to irritate Ianna, causing the Archpriestess' face to suddenly turn cold.
"Is it forbidden to speak of your royal family's filth?"
"Because of a prince's affair, at least fifty thousand people died in Temeria…"
"Bang!"
The cane struck the floor of the carriage, interrupting Ianna.
"Amavet might not even be the King's child," the old Duke retorted with a grim expression, "He could very well be Falka's bastard..."
"When something goes wrong, it's Falka's child, but when all's well, he's your brother Goidemar's good son?" Ianna sneered.
The old Duke's knuckles turned white as he clenched his cane tightly, the veins bulging:
"Goidemar was not only my brother but also your King, the protector of all of Temeria..."
"Protector?" Ianna chuckled, "And what exactly did he protect?"
"Besides..."
"The only ruler I recognize is the Lady…"
The Archpriestess and the old Duke suddenly started quarreling over a rather ordinary question posed by a witcher. This left Allen somewhat dumbfounded.
What confused him even more was how Falka had a child with the King of Temeria, and that child turned out to be a prince?
Wasn't Goidemar's queen supposed to be Riannon, the heir to the Elder Blood?
Wait...
Allen furrowed his brows, trying to recall.
The triplets of Houtborg!
He remembered now. After Falka had imprisoned Riannon, both of them gave birth to children at almost the same time in the Fort of Houtborg.
Falka believed that only a queen was fit to nurse her child. So, she put her own child alongside Riannon's twins, who had gone mad by then, and made Riannon nurse all three of them.
When the fort was eventually stormed and Falka was killed, no one could tell which of the triplets was Falka's child and which were Goidemar and Riannon's.
But...
He seemed to recall that Falka's child had been confirmed to be a girl...
Allen glanced at the still-arguing Duke Mason and Ianna and wisely chose not to ask the question.
Come to think of it...
Three major upheavals in just ten years.
Temeria truly had its share of disasters!
"Most of the time, it's ghouls. Occasionally, you'll encounter alghouls or grave hags. Just those types of monsters…"
The old Duke seemed unwilling to continue arguing about Temeria's scandals in front of the witcher.
He glanced at Allen and took over the answer from the Archpriestess.
Allen nodded in response.
After thinking for a moment, he took out a bottle of crimson Necrophage Oil from the potion pouch on his belt and began carefully applying it to Elsa. Although the old Duke's tone suggested that the chances of encountering alghouls and grave hags were slim, it was always good to be prepared.
After all, the materials for Necrophage Oil were quite cheap.
"What's that?"
The old Duke frowned and asked.
In his younger days, he had fought in battles and knew that what Allen was applying was not ordinary weapon maintenance oil.
"This is Necrophage Oil... uh... a type of sword oil for fighting corpse creatures..."
"Sword oil? Necrophage Oil?" The old Duke's frown deepened.
He searched through his memory but couldn't recall such a potion. That shouldn't be the case. As the Duke of Ellander, he had access to even rare potions like Verdant's Sigh.
And...
In recent years, his formation of the monster hunting army was well-known. There was no reason why he hadn't heard of such a potion with an obvious name.
"Sword oil is a potion formula Allen invented..." Ianna explained.
The old Duke cast a skeptical look at the overly young witcher, immediately losing interest in this so-called sword oil. He even thought the young man before him was being a bit of a show-off.
"Hahaha~" Seeing the Duke's changing expression, Ianna guessed what he was thinking and laughed heartily before explaining, "In addition to being a master witcher, Allen is also Vera's alchemy apprentice. She told me that Allen has exceptional talent in potions..."
"Hmph~" The old Duke's lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something.
But noticing Ianna's smiling gaze, he simply snorted and closed his mouth again. However, Allen noticed something. The Duke's eyes occasionally darted to Elsa's sword, gleaming with the dark red sheen of Necrophage Oil. Clearly, he was quite interested in it.
This made Allen raise an eyebrow, giving him an idea.
Although Hemselt, the one responsible for cutting off the Wolf School's tribute, was dead, it was unlikely that Kaedwen's new king would continue paying the annual tribute like before, even if he wasn't hostile to the School.
And expanding the number of apprentices was inevitable, meaning the School's expenses on potions would surely rise quickly.
Perhaps...
It was time to find a new source of income for the School.
Also...
Though he now had over twenty thousand orens, making him quite wealthy...
But the materials consumed during the ritual over the past three days almost amounted to that number.
A real man can't always live off others. However, Allen, noticing the Duke's interest, didn't say anything and continued to carefully apply oil to his sword, hoping a couple of ghouls would show up to model for him.
Just as he was thinking this...
The next second.
Knock knock knock~
The carriage door was knocked on, and the carriage gradually came to a stop.
Has the action started?
Allen instantly got excited, though he controlled his expression to maintain a cool, silent demeanor.
"Duke, Archpriestess, we've arrived at the first location..."
"But it looks like there are a few shadows lurking in the grass in the distance."
"It seems like we're being watched."
The driver's tone was calm, as if he was inside the carriage instead of outside. Hearing this, the old Duke glanced at Allen. The witcher tactfully stood up and said, "I'll go!"
Ianna smiled and patted the witcher on the arm.
Creak~
As the carriage door opened, the witcher's body paused ever so slightly.
The next second...
Howl~
A long howl came from the distance.
Hmm?
This ghoul's cry seemed... a bit off.
Why did it sound more like a wolf?
Allen looked in the direction of the sound.
In the bright sunlight, about five or six hundred meters away in the grass, gray and white shadows flashed by.
Oh well...
He had forgotten that besides monsters, the most common creatures in the wild were various animals, especially packs of wolves.
A bit disappointed, the witcher kept a calm face as he sheathed his silver sword and drew his steel sword.
"It's just a few wild wolves."
Allen gave a heads-up, nodded to the driver, and stepped out of the carriage. This being the first place to set up the ritual, the witcher got out and looked around. It was as he had expected.
Though it was in the wilderness, you could still see the towering Mahakam Mountain range behind them, rising above the ground. Below the mountain was the small town of Erlan, dotted in gray with bits of orange.
A narrow path, just wide enough for a carriage, stretched from Mahakam, winding down to where they were. On both sides were gradually thickening knee-high weeds and some small, unknown pink flowers.
And a clearly cleaned-up open space.
Step step~
Footsteps came from behind.
Ianna and Mason also got out of the carriage.
Hearing the noise, Allen turned around and said, "Archpriestess Ianna, Duke Mason, though it's just a few wolves, it's still dangerous down here. You both should wait in the carriage."
Ianna smiled without saying a word.
"What?" The old Duke snorted through his nose, "You think you can't handle it?"
The witcher chuckled and shook his head, no longer insisting.
After using his witcher senses to confirm there were only eight wolves around, he instinctively cast a Quen shield, twirled his sword, and charged toward the wolves.
Howl~
The wolf pack, noticing this lone prey separating from the group, howled and rushed toward him.
In fact, as typical cowards, especially since it wasn't night, the eight wolves probably wouldn't dare attack them. At most, they would just trail behind and watch. After all, even though the witcher unit hadn't arrived, the Duke had about ten guards riding behind the carriage.
But Allen had thought they were ghouls, and he had already accepted the job.
He couldn't back out just because wolves appeared instead of ghouls.
Whoosh~
The wind whistled in his ears.
As both sides closed in, the distance between them shrank rapidly.
When he got close enough to see the gray and white fur and the wolves' pale fangs flying in the wind, the witcher raised his left hand to guard himself with his sword, while his right hand curled his index finger and quickly thrust it forward.
Igni Sign.
A surge of heat rose from near his heart, flowed through his right hand, and burst out.
Whoosh——
A massive fan-shaped blast of flames, three meters in radius, erupted in front of him, instantly setting the charging wolf pack ablaze.
Howl——
The heart-wrenching screams of terror, mixed with the smell of burning protein, filled the air as smoke drifted toward him. But Allen didn't pay attention to it.
He looked at his right hand, stunned for a moment. It was the first time he had used the Igni Sign after increasing his magic attribute to over fifty. What had once been tiny sparks and small flames had turned into a massive blaze. The effect was incredible.
Howl——
The wolf pack's pitiful cries snapped the witcher out of his thoughts.
Splat~
Splat~
Splat~
-----------------------
With swift and clean sword strikes, he decapitated all eight wolves.
Ding.
[Beast group "Wolves" defeated!]
[Reward summary: ...]
The witcher ignored the ringing in his mind.
This kind of low-level creature probably wasn't even on par with drowners. Without hunting them in witcher contract form, there would be no worthwhile rewards.
Besides...
Allen glanced at the eight wolf corpses, most of which no longer had the shiny pelts they once had.
"There's no need to harvest these wolf hides," he concluded.
Looking more closely, even the belly fat, which could have been used to make dog tallow, had been melted by the intense heat of the flames.
The witcher sighed and thought to himself: "After getting stronger, the power of Igni has become too overwhelming. Next time, to preserve trophies and materials, I'll need to hold back, or just use my sword…"
This was, in fact, the first time he had encountered wolves, and he had instinctively used "strong fire for lots of fur," the fastest way to hunt monsters.
As a result, no trophies were left behind.
Allen made a mental note.
While a good-quality wolf pelt wasn't exactly expensive, it wasn't cheap either. But if it had been a bear pelt or bear fat, he would have suffered a significant loss.
Rustle rustle~
As Allen turned to walk back to the carriage, he was about to sheathe his steel sword. It was then that he noticed he was holding his newly acquired legendary sword, Balmur. He suddenly felt as if the sword was displeased that its first battle under a new owner had been against mere wolves, which had affected his Sign casting.
But after sensing it for a few seconds and finding no such resonance, he laughed to himself and shook his head.
Clang~
The steel sword was sheathed.
"What's wrong, Allen?"
"Are you hurt?"
Ianna, seeing the witcher walking back dejectedly, panicked and rushed over to check on him, not even caring about the old Duke anymore.
Huh?
Injured?
By them?
The witcher, confused by the Archpriestess examining him all over, smiled wryly and said: "No, I'm not hurt."
"I just didn't expect wolves to be this weak…"
"They didn't leave any loot behind at all..."
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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256. He Is Already Dead!
257. I, Allen, Declare You the Strongest!
258. We are family, aren't we?
259. The Unavoidable Soft Rice.
260. The Fearsome Good Luck.