Indeed, though Allen himself didn't know why killing Ronnie Dickinson had resulted in acquiring a Legacy Vessel instead of some sorcerous skill—
Nor did he understand how the Witcher's Journal extracted that profound and elusive Legacy Vessel from a male sorcerer's body, as Vera described.
But the fact remained: he did possess such a vessel.
Moreover, the process to achieve a Legacy Vessel—aside from some unclear specifics—was more or less apparent. And as things stood, he didn't seem to need Ronnie Dickinson' vessel just yet.
He had never felt the "overwhelming fullness of the body, like forcing more water into a bottle already brimming to the top." His body had not yet reached its limit. His agility and constitution hadn't even hit 99 points—he couldn't even complete Chief step toward forming a vessel.
He lacked 15 points in agility and 9 in constitution. On paper, that didn't seem too far off—it looked like something he could achieve with effort and careful planning.
But in practice, commonly hunted monsters like ghouls, Drowners, and Alghouls had already yielded all their heart essence he could possibly ingest.
At best, he'd have to rely on the once-a-month Conjunction of the Spheres. By that pace, it'd take another three or four months to accumulate what he needed.
And if he wanted to forge a Legacy Vessel, just perfecting one aspect—physical or mental—like Sol or Ronnie Dickinson had done, wasn't enough for him.
If he was going to do this, he'd go all the way.
Strength, agility, constitution, perception, mysticism—he wanted to push all five attributes to their absolute limits, something no one before had ever done, before attempting the fusion into the vessel.
Others might not have the talent for that, but Allen did. Thanks to his natural gifts, perfecting all five stats wasn't impossible for him.
So then...
Why not try it?
Which meant the timeline would have to be extended indefinitely.
With that much time, he'd surely complete the mission to rescue Hen Gedymdeith. Who knows, during his adventures in Ban Ard, he might even acquire another Legacy Vessel.
But Sol couldn't afford to wait that long.
Before returning to Kaer Morhen, Allen had worried that Sol might exile him from the School of the Wolf for taming the Royal Griffin, which had indirectly led to the fall of Kaedwen.
But now, with danger looming and enemies on all sides, if something were to happen to Chief, it would cause far more trouble.
Power struggles, ideological rifts, seniority disputes... The School of the Wolf would fracture just like the Witcher Orders before them. That future didn't even need a prophecy to be foreseen.
Besides, even if he reached max attributes now, Allen still wouldn't use the vessel.
The Holy Grail was a child born of the Seeker's union with the world. If he could create a child of his own, why adopt someone else's child—especially one born from an enemy's union with the world?
And more importantly—
The Legacy Vessel might not even be the only path forward. Or at least, it might not be the perfect one.
After all, according to Vera, achieving the vessel didn't lead to any obvious leap in life's hierarchy. At most, it granted a side-effect-free version of "Beast Roar: Berserk."
That was certainly powerful, but Allen felt it wasn't quite enough. Especially when he remembered how easily he had slain Ronnie Dickinson due to the latter's overconfidence.
Besides, the vessel wasn't the only path after reaching the limit.
Allen still remembered the message that appeared in the Witcher's Journal when his strength hit its cap:
['Attribute: Strength' has reached Limit · Initial. Please seek an opportunity to complete yourself.]
Tomas Moreau's Second Mutation was one path. The Druid's Way from a while back was another.
Allen had no need to rush into the Legacy Vessel path.
That's the kind of confidence a Child of Miracle could have.
"Someone… else's Legacy Vessel?" the female sorcerer paused, stunned. "Do you realize what you're saying?"
The vessel was merely a term. In truth, neither the container nor the forces it held—the Sage's Power or the Almighty Force—could be surgically removed from its host.
In essence, the Legacy Vessel was like the ocean of spirit hidden within the mind. Everyone knew it existed, but no experiment could ever extract it.
"Of course." Allen wasn't surprised by the sorceress's reaction.
He thought for a moment, organized his words, and said truthfully, "Lady Vera, you know I have some special talents."
"In fact, the reason I asked that question just now is because—after killing Ronnie Dickinson—I obtained his Legacy Vessel."
"You obtained Ronnie Dickinson' Legacy Vessel?" The sorceress's face was filled with disbelief.
She had never heard of the words "Legacy Vessel" being used together with "obtained."
After a pause, even Vera—who had always trusted Allen—couldn't help but voice her doubt: "Did you… perhaps misread it? The Great Fea—"
The sorceress's tone suddenly froze.
In the dim corridor lit by flickering candlelight, Vera's delicate and pale face was suddenly illuminated by a flash of radiant blue-white light, like a bolt of lightning tearing through the void for a brief instant.
Her gem-like crimson eyes widened in shock, pupils dilating, and her thin lips parted slightly.
She saw in Allen's outstretched, calloused right hand a thumb-sized chalice suspended in mid-air.
It was entirely silver-white, and the body of the chalice was engraved with a few lines of ancient script, giving it an archaic and dignified appearance.
Vera could read ancient script, but as soon as she tried to translate the engraved lines, the markings suddenly faded, and the surface of the chalice became as smooth as a mirror.
Faint flashes of blue-white lightning flickered inside the cup, illuminating half the corridor. That radiant glow was coming from the lightning serpent.
But on closer inspection, one would realize the lightning serpent wasn't floating in mid-air, but rather submerged and drifting within a semi-transparent, metallic-glimmering liquid.
"This... this feeling is the power of a Sage!!" Vera suddenly stood upright, her eyes wide with shock, her right hand covering her mouth as she cried out in disbelief.
Allen nodded. "Ronnie Dickinson was a sorcerer, so what's inside surely isn't Almighty Force."
This wasn't Chief time he had taken out Ronnie Dickinson's Legacy Vessel, and by now he had grown immune to the vessel's dramatic effects.
That said, putting aside whether the path of the Legacy Vessel was righteous or complete, its appearance was undeniably impressive.
If you enlarged it, no one would question you if you claimed it was the Holy Grail from myth. No wonder Geoffrey Monck and Herbert Stammelford had referred to it as a "Holy Grail."
"You… you… you…" The sorceress, pulled out of her emotional haze by the sudden appearance of the vessel, was now at a rare loss for words.
Her fair and lovely face flushed red with emotion.
But few expressions could be as honest as the look she wore.
"I don't know how I brought it out either," Allen admitted frankly. He truly didn't understand why the Witcher's Journal was so miraculous.
"So…"
"Can this save the Chief?"
The moment she mentioned Sol, the sorceress cooled down from her previous excitement and astonishment.
Her expression turned extremely complicated as she stared at Allen for a long while, and Allen couldn't decipher the mix of emotions in her gaze.
"Allen…" she took a deep breath. "Is there anything you can't do?"
"Have kids?"
Allen cracked a joke, hoping to lighten the mood, but the moment the sorceress heard that, her expression dimmed with sorrow, her once-straight back instantly slumping.
Damn it, why did he have to say that? Who jokes about childbirth with a woman who can't conceive?
Allen cursed himself silently and hurried to change the subject. "Lady Vera, can Ronnie Dickinson's Legacy Vessel help the Chief recover?"
The sorceress looked at the tiny vessel for a long time, frowning, and said: "I… I don't know. The process of forming a Legacy Vessel isn't even mature yet, let alone restoring a broken one."
"No one's ever managed to extract another sorcerer's Legacy Vessel before. There's no precedent for us to study."
"But…"
Her tone paused for a moment: "Are you sure you want to hand it over—for restoring Sol?"
"Compared to trying to repair a collapsed witcher's legacy vessel, transplanting it into your own body might be more simpl—"
"No need," Allen shook his head and interrupted firmly. "If I ever condense a legacy vessel, I won't walk a path like that."
Vera was taken aback by his words and stared into Allen's eyes. Those eyes shimmered with a brilliance purer than the Sansretour River back in her hometown of Toussaint.
For a moment, she found the glow too dazzling to bear, instinctively looking away.
If he knew the truth about Sol and me… would he still choose to do this?
Vera couldn't help but wonder. Then she sighed and said, "Considering this is a sorcerer's legacy vessel, not a witcher's, it's incompatible."
"The chances of success might be even lower than before. It's entirely possible that during the process, nothing will be achieved, and the vessel could be consumed unexpectedly, leaving us with nothing…"
"What do you mean?" Allen didn't understand what she was implying.
"Even if you want to condense your own legacy vessel," the sorceress bit her lip and said with difficulty, "this one from Ronnie Dickinson is incredibly precious—it should be kept as a backup."
"And Sol already harbors a death wish. Otherwise, his legacy vessel wouldn't have collapsed so abruptly and completely."
"This… it's not worth it..."
Young people are always full of fire and passion, charging forward without regard for consequences.
But Vera couldn't afford that kind of recklessness.
Allen had obtained Ronnie Dickinson's legacy vessel by accident and underestimated how rare such things truly were—but Vera knew the truth.
Across the entire continent, the number of sorcerers who had ever condensed a legacy vessel could barely exceed the number of fingers on both hands.
Among them, the five from the Chapter of the Gift and the Art stood like towering snowy peaks of the Blue Mountains, commanding awe and reverence from all below.
No matter how strong Allen was, he did not have the power to pry a vessel from any of them.
That left only a handful of others.
And Ronnie Dickinson wasn't even the strongest among them—he lost his vessel due to underestimating his opponent. Once the other sorcerers learned of this incident, they would surely grow more cautious, especially toward witchers—and especially toward Allen.
That meant the number of vessels Allen might ever obtain would not even reach five.
And even among those few, Allen—despite not subscribing to the Wolf School's rigid neutrality—was still a good-hearted youth. That ruled out any vessel held by upright and decent sorcerers.
After that, what would remain? What choices would he have left?
Ronnie Dickinson might seem like just Chief… but in truth, he could very well be the last.
Miss this opportunity, and there might never be another.
Of course she didn't want to stand by and watch Sol spiral helplessly into death—but compared to Allen's future, there was nothing she wasn't willing to give up. Not Sol. Not even herself.
Vera stared blankly at Allen's steadily maturing face, and her mind momentarily blurred.
This was a debt they owed—one that could never truly be repaid.
At worst, she would leave with him, together.
"It's worth it," Allen said solemnly, his gaze steady as he took the sorceress's hand and placed Ronnie Dickinson's legacy vessel into her palm. "Don't worry about success or failure. Chief is important to the Wolf School."
Vera felt the tingling sensation in her hand and stayed silent.
Allen, seemingly unaware of the sorceress's strange reaction, continued after handing over the vessel: "By the way, Lady Vera."
"How is Tomas Moreau doing now? Have you gotten anything out of him about the second mutation?"
"Not yet," Vera replied, gripping the legacy vessel and lifting her head. "But it won't take much longer."
"Ida Emean is no interrogation expert, but her mind-reading abilities are exceptional. It shouldn't be long before we extract the second mutation information."
Allen was surprised. "Ida Emean came specifically for Tomas Moreau?"
"Not because of the alliance between the Free Elves and the Wolf School?"
"No," Vera shook her head. "I went to the Free Elves' camp in the Blue Mountains specifically to find Ida Emean. Francesca and the others were just incidental."
Allen nodded.
Just as Vera said, the chances of curing Sol with the legacy vessel were low. It was like incompatible blood types—this vessel was from a sorcerer, meant to enhance perception and magical attunement, while Sol was a witcher, and their vessels were meant to enhance physical attributes.
The success rate was easy to imagine.
That left the second mutation as another possible path.
Sol's life was actually endangered not by the legacy vessel's incompatibility, but because the remnants of the dragon's soul had seized the moment of his weakness.
If the second mutation allowed Sol to truly break through his limits, would the dragon soul still be a threat?
Of course, researching it from scratch would take too much time...
"If it's too hard to get the second mutation information directly, try finding the lab where Tomas Moreau conducted the second mutation experiments," Allen suggested. "There's a good chance it's located in Toussaint—keep an eye out during interrogation."
He remembered that the lab not only held all the devices and apparatus for the second mutation process, but even had raw materials like the white widow centipede.
He hadn't asked Vera to interrogate the lab location earlier because the knowledge of the second mutation was more important in the long run—and using magical coercion in interrogations might shatter the subject's mind after one answer.
If the lab ended up only having equipment and no documents, they'd still need to start from zero.
"The lab? Toussaint?" Vera froze for a moment, then nodded. "I'll let Ida Emean know."
"Mhm. If interrogation proves difficult, ask about that first," Allen added. "The second mutation might also help with Chief's condition. But we should still try Ronnie Dickinson's legacy vessel first."
"Condensing a legacy vessel isn't hard for me, don't worry."
"But Chief might not hold on that long. Don't let the interrogation of Tomas Moreau end up delaying—"
"Uh… Lady Vera?"
Allen's words halted abruptly when he saw tears suddenly well up at the corners of the sorceress's eyes.
He froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, assuming that mentioning Sol's deteriorating condition had caused the usually strong sorceress to become overwhelmed.
As she lowered her head, covering her face, Allen hesitated, then stepped forward and gently patted her back, his voice soft: "It's going to be alright, Lady Vera. We'll find a way to help Chief."
The calloused warmth of Allen's hand on her back and his burning body heat made Vera's nose sting—her tears broke through and spilled out from between her fingers.
"Yes... we'll find a way."
"There's always a way."
....
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