"He sank into the Lake of Origins?"
Ezekiel turned his head and looked questioningly at Aedus, only to find the same bafflement on Aedus's face.
Even the Sacred Mayena was still far beyond their reach—let alone the deeply veiled Lake of Origins.
They knew nothing about it.
But the moment the words left the Grandmaster's mouth, the expressions of several senior druids—Isaac McKinney in his sacred bear form, and Zebi Ortega in raven shape—shifted drastically.
"Master, why didn't you stop him?!" Zebi Ortega cried out.
The Grandmaster fell silent for several seconds before shaking his head. "I could not. That was the will of the Source. The Mother of Nature ordered me to let him pass."
"But… but…"
"If it was the will of the Mother, then it must be obeyed," Isaac McKinney interrupted, gently placing a hand on Zebi's shoulder. "Whatever happened must be what's best for the Source, for nature, for our world."
Zebi fell silent.
Isaac looked toward the Grandmaster again. "If he has indeed sunk into the Lake of Origins, then you are right—he cannot return. And nor should he."
He glanced back at the gathered druids and continued, "What do you wish of us?"
"Shall we send someone to find him?"
"There's no need," the Grandmaster said with a light shake of his head. "The Northern Realms are vast. The druids of the Circle of Mayena are few. Master Kanu may be a stranger to this world, but he is one who walks the path of nature. To hide in forests and wilderness is instinct to people like him."
"Besides, he's a true master of the natural way. If he doesn't want to be found, then no one will find him. Sending someone would be no better than looking for a flea in a haystack. A waste of time, and a distraction from the apprentices' own journeys."
The Grandmaster paused, then added with a rare tone of wonder: "I do not know what kind of man Master Kanu was in his own world… but I doubt I would be able to gain recognition from a new Source so quickly, had I been thrown into a foreign realm through a Conjunction."
Those listening found their own curiosity sparked. A figure admired even by the Grandmaster—such a being could only belong in myths or epics.
Of course, the only reason such reflection was even possible was because the arrival had been a druid. Had he been a sorcerer, or someone whose alignment leaned toward chaos, even the most hidden circles across the Northern Realms would have mobilized to hunt him down.
"Master, if we're not to search for Master Kanu… then why have you summoned all of us?" Isaac McKinney asked, perplexed.
It was a question shared by all present.
Except for those currently away on pilgrimage or assignment, nearly the entire Circle of Mayena had gathered here. Certainly, the strange events in the sacred grove were important—but they didn't seem important enough to call such a great assembly. Especially not for younger druids who had yet to leave a mark in the sacred forest.
The Grandmaster raised his head, squinting at the beams of sunlight that pierced the thick canopy above.
"Master Kanu has already left his mark upon the Source," he said quietly. "The Mother of Nature has revealed to me that a new life is about to be born into this world."
"It is a life unlike any other—part legacy, part remnant of the world he came from. It is the key to a new age. A rope. A guide. A seed of hope…"
The druids exchanged looks.
A new life? A key to a new age? Hope?
Was this… a prophecy?
What kind of lifeform could affect the fate of the future?
"I… I don't…" the Grandmaster muttered, then lowered his head and stared solemnly at the druids of the Circle of Mayena.
"The Mother of Nature asks that you find them—protect them—help them integrate into the cycle of the world."
"Is it the golden beast?" Isaac McKinney asked.
"At the very least, it is deeply connected. The form will be similar," the Grandmaster nodded. "The seed has sprouted, but it may struggle to adapt to a world in flux. It is in times like these that the farmer's hand is most needed."
"Where should we begin the search?" Zebi Ortega asked.
"The deep mountains of the north," the Grandmaster replied. "I saw fallen maple leaves, spruce, weeping birch, rock heather… and fae elms."
The druids' expressions turned grave as they committed each feature to memory.
Soon, under the guidance of the Circle's senior druids responsible for outward affairs, each druid received their task. One by one, they bowed to the Grandmaster, then quietly departed the sacred grove and made their way out of the forest.
Aedus, Elwin, and Ezekiel were among them.
Heinrich, still bound to his forest patrol duties, remained for now—but in a week, he too would head to the Dragon Mountains.
No one made excuses or tried to refuse. After all, maintaining the sanctity of nature's cycle was the task given to every druid by the Mother herself. Being a druid wasn't merely a profession—it was a calling. And more importantly, a new natural spirit meant a new shortcut.
To step into the sacred forest bearing such a form was to gain the Mother's favor, and that always brought blessings—however subtle.
Soon, only the Grandmaster and a few archdruids remained beneath the great boughs of Holy Mayena.
"Master, are you truly not concerned about Kanu?" Zebi Ortega asked. "If the imprint came from him, then surely the new life's true name, its traits, its habits, how to communicate or even mimic it—he would know best."
The Grandmaster thought for a few seconds, then said, "Inform the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. Send word to the kings and high lords of the Northern Kingdoms. Let them know not to harm him."
"That's all?" Zebi asked, puzzled.
"That's all," the Grandmaster nodded slightly. "It doesn't matter if we can't find him. We'll invite him to come."
"What do you mean?" one of the archdruids asked. "How do you invite someone you can't find?"
Zebi's eyes lit up with realization.
"No matter how cautious he is, Master Kanu will have to meditate again eventually. When he does, he will return to the sacred forest—and that's when we'll invite him."
Just as none of them would ever treat a fellow traveler of nature's path with suspicion…
That otherworldly druid named Kanu likely wouldn't mistrust them, either.
Especially since, even if the Grandmaster had stepped aside at the Source's command, it had also been a silent gesture of goodwill from the Circle of Mayena.
If Kanu was the kind of man who knew to repay kindness, then this gesture alone would be a tremendous favor—likely enough to give the Circle of Mayena a head start over the other druidic circles in inviting him into their fold.
Yes, the Sacred Grove was not the domain of the Mayena Circle alone.
The Mahakam and Kestra Mountains serve as the boundary. To the west of this boundary, most of Temeria and Redania, as well as some small countries such as Cidaris, are all within the coverage of the Sacred Grove.
Elsewhere—regions like Kovir, Skellige, and others—held their own sanctuaries of the natural path.
Some were woodlands like the Sacred Grove, but others took the form of towering mountains, vast oceans, or shadowed swamplands...
Within each sanctuary, what was revealed was always the same Source, merely in different forms—verdant forests, surging seas, erupting volcanoes—each one an embodiment of nature.
The underlying essence remained the same.
Yet, due to the diversity in how these sanctuaries manifested, druids' progress in understanding the natural way could vary from one place to another.
Some druids found deeper insight in forests, others by the sea, and some in the bogs...
That was also why druids, even after rising from apprentice to full-fledged practitioner, would often wander the Continent, traveling from one circle to another, deepening their connection to nature.
Only after attaining the rank of archdruid would they finally choose one druidic circle to settle in—devoting themselves to long, uninterrupted meditation, striving to reach the heart of the Source.
Of course—
Unlike the merchant guilds, nobles, or various trades of the world, the druidic circles of the Northern Realms were not plagued by bitter rivalries or self-serving entanglements. Their relations with one another were generally cordial.
Still, as archdruids of the Mayena Circle, it was only natural for them to hope that Kanu—a master who had touched the Source and even sunk into the Lake of Origins—might choose to join their ranks.
That would not only increase the offerings from secular nobles, but also make the exchange of insights into the natural path more convenient.
Moreover—
It wasn't just ordinary druids who were curious about the golden beast; even the archdruids were intrigued by a nature spirit chosen by the Mother herself.
Perhaps they could glean new truths from this new spirit of nature. And the truths of nature—of course—were always easier to comprehend through a refined sacred form.
So not a single druid present wished to leave the one called Kanu to the other druidic circles.
Even druids, devotees of nature, could have selfish desires.
"Indeed," the Grandmaster nodded with satisfaction. "For druids, attuning to nature is instinct. As long as Kanu remains under the Sacred Grove's domain, there's bound to be another encounter."
"Be more mindful during your meditations over the next few days."
"Yes, Grandmaster," the archdruids replied with respectful nods.
The Grandmaster smiled kindly and stroked his beard.
Since it was rare for the archdruids to awaken from long periods of meditation, now that the matter was settled, they didn't leave immediately. Instead, they began exchanging insights gathered through years of cultivation.
Of course, such discussions were brief—after all, the truths of nature existed already within the Sacred Grove, and needed little verbal exchange.
After that, conversation turned to memories of the past, complaints about the difficulties of the path ahead, and speculation about the druid from another world—Kanu.
As the master of the Mayena Druidic Circle, the Grandmaster occasionally answered a question or two, and even joined in with a few lighthearted complaints.
From afar, save for the staff adorned with various animal skulls, he looked no different from an old villager idly chatting with friends.
But after a while, the Grandmaster swept his gaze over the archdruids and suddenly asked: "Where's Visenna?"
"Why don't I see her here?"
-----------------------------------
Temple of Melitele.
While the druids of the Mayena Circle were contemplating how to 'coincidentally' encounter Kanu in the Sacred Grove, the very same "Kanu" opened his eyes with a helpless sigh, seated cross-legged atop a bed.
"No good…" he muttered, shaking his head. "Druidic meditation seems completely different from that of witchers."
Allen had, of course, heard of druids. Although their role in the books and games wasn't nearly as prominent as that of sorcerers, they weren't unfamiliar.
After he crossed into this world—still in Kaer Morhen, and before completing the Trial of the Grasses—he'd come across books in the keep's library describing this path.
Later, after mastering Beast Roar: Wild Speech, he'd sought out even more information in the archives of both the Temple of Melitele and Kaer Morhen.
He couldn't claim to have deep understanding of druids, but he did grasp the basic concepts—like meditating to commune with natural sanctuaries.
He suspected—
That forest he'd entered by using the essence of the Leshen's antlers was likely one such sanctuary.
But just now, he had tried every method he could think of—from meditation, to the Tongue of the Wild, to a combination of both—and although the Mother of Nature responded within Melitele's temple, he still couldn't reenter that forest.
Most likely, druids had a unique form of meditation.
"I'll leave it for now," Allen said with a sigh. "Maybe once I meet a druid, I can ask them for guidance."
Fortunately, unlike sorcerers—who guarded their mind-arts and secret meditations like dragons hoarding gold—druids, eager to turn every human into a guardian of nature, were generally less wary of sharing ways to commune with natural sanctuaries.
Otherwise—
Who knew how long it would take to find his way back into that forest again?
After offending so many factions already, the last thing he needed was to offend the druids by stealing their cultivation techniques.
The School of the Wolf hadn't yet grown strong—it truly couldn't hold out much longer.
But then again…
"That sanctuary's corresponding druidic circle should be somewhere near Temeria, right?"
Allen stroked his chin in thought.
"Temeria… Temeria…"
"'White Wolf' Geralt's mother was a druid from Temeria. That druidic circle was called the Mayena Druidic Circle, if I remember right…"
"Mayena…" He dug through his memory. "It should be near Temeria's southern border, somewhere close to Maribor…"
"The beasts in that sacred grove, and that 'demigod' stag—could they be druids from the Mayena Druidic Circle?"
The idea had barely surfaced before Allen dismissed it.
Because he remembered that Geralt's mother was the head of the Mayena Druidic Circle—and that stag, with its massive antlers and imposing frame, was clearly male.
But then again…
"Geralt should be born right around this time," Allen thought.
Before he crossed into this world, Geralt's birth date had never been clearly established. The original novels, the games, and the Netflix series each implied different timelines.
The Netflix series even suggested 1160—but that was impossible. Allen hadn't seen a white-haired Witcher in his twenties anywhere in Kaer Morhen.
The books hinted at 1210 or so, but based on the story's events, Geralt was taken in by Vesemir before the fall of the School of the Wolf—so that timing didn't really add up.
Because if not for Allen's presence, the Wolf School would've fallen this year… or next.
So—
If he followed the story's thread, then in the next year or two, Geralt's mother would probably deliver him to Kaer Morhen.
To be honest, Allen was actually looking forward to meeting the protagonist of the original saga.
Not just because of his legendary, epic tale—but also because Geralt was said to have a natural affinity for magic, a "source."
Granted, that point was heavily debated—but Geralt's raw talent as a Witcher was undeniable.
Also—
Once the School of the Wolf accepted Geralt, they could establish a connection with the druids.
"I just hope my butterfly-wing presence hasn't flapped the original protagonist out of existence…" Allen muttered with a sigh as he prepared to stand.
Just then—
Knock knock knock~
Someone knocked on Allen's door.
...........
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