"How did Tissaia de Vries assign you, Lady... Lady Philippa Eilhart?"
Philippa Eilhart looked playfully at the young woman who was her junior both in title and in reality.
That youthful face, still holding traces of innocence, was etched with the stubborn defiance of someone whose beloved plush toy had just been taken. The first half of her sentence was full of righteous indignation, but once her gaze met Philippa's, her tone instantly softened into something almost pleading—sweet and childish.
Hmm… rather cute.
Philippa Eilhart felt a bit regretful. Had they met in the academy—or anywhere else—she would've teased her a little, at least enough to make her junior's cheeks turn crimson and her whole body flush with heat.
But standing before her was the Crimson Fox, a legendary sorceress from the era of the academy heads, a woman etched into the very annals of epic history. Philippa could not afford to be so bold here.
So, after a moment's thought and a glance at Vera, she spoke honestly: "The Dean praised Allen as the most promising witcher she's ever seen—one who may become the key strength in the future structure of Order."
"This mission is centered around him. I'm here to relay information between both sides in a timely manner—and follow his lead."
Vera and Mary didn't have much of a reaction, but Allen, hearing this, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and glance at Philippa Eilhart.
Most promising… key to the Order… I'm in charge… follow my lead...
That definitely wasn't what she had said before.
Mary was briefly speechless upon hearing this, her face cycling between red and white.
On the one hand, she was happy and proud that Allen was praised by the world's most powerful sorceress.
On the other, she found it incredibly hard to accept what this level of acknowledgment implied—particularly the kind of close interaction one could guess from her words alone.
And the last one to get close to Allen like that…?
It was Lysa from the Temple of Melitele!
And just a few days ago, she had learned that while she was away, Allen had even flirted with a female elf!
This… this… THIS—
"Alright," Vera cut in, rescuing both Mary and Allen from the moment. "It's getting late. If we don't eat now, the others will arrive soon."
"Philippa, stay as well. Try Mary's cooking."
Mary's face instantly flushed scarlet, her entire posture tense and defensive—not out of joy, but sheer embarrassment. But since the suggestion came from Vera, she clearly couldn't object.
"No need, Lady Vera," Philippa Eilhart said, glancing at Mary with an intentional yet casual look. "I have a place to dine, and clearly this meal was prepared especially for Allen. I won't intrude."
Then, stepping up to Mary, she lowered her voice and spoke gently: "Don't worry, Miss Margarita. I've only known Allen for a day or two. We're just comrades on a mission."
"I'm not—I… I… I didn't…"
Having her thoughts exposed, Mary reacted like a startled kitten, waving her hands in panic, completely flustered.
Philippa gave a soft chuckle, cast one last glance at Allen, then respectfully bowed to Vera and turned to leave through the castle hall's main door.
Once she reached a corner where none of the three could see…
"Vmmm~"
The wolf medallion let out a low hum.
A flash of violet magical light shimmered. Then, fading gradually, came the distant sound of wings flapping.
Philippa Eilhart had left.
Vera glanced at Mary, who still had her head lowered, and then at Allen, whose expression remained unreadable. She let out a gentle sigh.
"Let's eat first…"
-----------------------------------
Mary's cooking was quite good. No one knew where she had learned her recipes, but the flavors of pepper, cinnamon, and clove weren't overpowering. Instead, they highlighted the rich taste of the beef.
The beef had been stewed to a tender perfection—it practically melted in the mouth.
The bread, warm and fresh, filled the palate with a deep, satisfying aroma of baked grain.
Though it wasn't anything dazzling—not on par with the fruit orchard, or Vesemir's old friend at the inn, who had learned from the Viscount of Hudson's cook—it was still remarkably delicious.
It was clear Mary had put her heart into preparing this lunch.
Unfortunately, perhaps because of Philippa Eilhart's sudden visit, even though there was conversation at the table, the atmosphere remained awkward.
Allen offered a few compliments, but Mary didn't seem particularly uplifted. Her smile appeared forced.
After a rushed lunch, Allen's offer to help with cleanup was politely declined, leaving him to make an excuse and slip away.
On the long oak table, only remnants of the meal remained—alongside two sorceresses sitting silently, each lost in thought.
A long while passed.
Snap~
With a sharp snap of her fingers, Vera broke the silence.
Flames suddenly erupted in the plates and stew pot, as if some flammable material—not soup—had been inside them. Then, a gust of wind, conjured from nowhere, blew away the bread crumbs, ashes, and tableware debris through the open window.
"Thank you, Mentor," Mary said politely in a low voice, her hands covering her forehead so her expression remained hidden under the shadow.
Seeing this, Vera sighed again. "Didn't Philippa already say?"
"They're just partners for the next mission—there's nothing between them."
"Mentor," Mary kept her head down, "there may be nothing now, but that doesn't mean there won't be in the future."
"Lysa from the Melitele Temple, and that Francesca Findabair who just arrived two days ago… Allen has only been off the mountain for half a year…"
Vera was slightly surprised. "I know you've met Lysa, but we've been together the past two days—how did you know about Francesca and Allen?"
"Mentor, I just used to not care—not that I'm stupid," Mary muttered with a hint of grievance. "I'm a graduate of Aretuza too. How could I not see why that elf came here…"
Vera was momentarily at a loss for words.
The more something is forbidden, the more it is desired.
Tissaia de Vries's strict discipline only made love and sex all the more enticing to the girls.
Aretuza stood on Thanedd Island, just a bridge away from Gors Velen—Temeria's most prosperous port city.
Trying to keep a secret relationship from all the mentors was difficult, but hiding it from just Tissaia de Vries? That was easy.
Indeed—
Female mages were passionate by nature. Many of the older mentors at Aretuza didn't agree with Tissaia de Vries's philosophy.
Some even indulged in far wilder affairs themselves, and naturally turned a blind eye to the apprentices.
Rumor had it that in recent years, some of the Aretuza girls even boasted and shared stories about their "prey" and "playmates."
"Mary…"
"Mentor, you don't have to comfort me," Mary looked up with a bright but clearly strained smile, and then added softly with a sense of defeat, "I just hate myself… hate how weak I am."
"Honestly, I wanted to tell Lady Philippa earlier that I could go with Allen to the mission in Ban Ard to rescue Master Hen Gedymdeith. But I couldn't say it."
"Because I knew I couldn't take her place. I'd only hold him back."
"Her polymorph spells are so masterful. If you hadn't pointed it out, Mentor, I wouldn't have noticed anything. Even when she revealed herself, I still didn't recognize her…"
Silently, tears welled up in Mary's eyes, overflowed, and began to fall.
Plop~ plop~
Big drops splashed onto the freshly cleaned oak table, soaking into the deep black grain.
"I was even so happy. I thought the owl was a gift from Allen… I was already planning to make it the finest pearwood cage, had even decided what patterns I'd carve into it…"
"How could someone like me go on an adventure with him, let alone replace her…"
"Mary…" Vera gently stroked her hair, her touch full of pity.
Mary's body trembled slightly. She was about to throw herself into Vera's arms and burst into tears—
"Thud thud thud~"
Suddenly, hurried footsteps and loud chatter echoed from outside the window, growing rapidly closer.
The sorrowful, mournful atmosphere was shattered in an instant.
Mary's face turned pale in shock. She whipped her head toward Vera and urgently whispered, "Mentor! Mentor! Someone's coming… quickly! We have to teleport out of here!"
She had heard the voices of Clay, Ice, and Erni—especially Ice, that blabbermouth. If he found out she'd been crying here, it wouldn't be long before all of Kaer Morhen knew.
Allen would know, Francesca would know, even Philippa Eilhart would know!!!
That was unacceptable!
Mary couldn't help but urge her mentor again, respectfully yet anxiously, "Mentor! Mentor!"
"I heard you." Vera sighed and snapped her fingers, conjuring a teleportation portal.
Mary had just placed one foot into the portal when she noticed Vera hadn't moved. She quickly asked, "Mentor, aren't you coming?"
"I need to check on Ida Emean's progress, and there's still some business with Sol. You go ahead."
Mary nodded dazedly, still unsure, but the approaching footsteps left her no time to think. She was just about to dash into the portal when—
"Wait…" Vera's voice froze her in place.
"Don't worry so much! Your talent surpasses Philippa Eilhart's. She's only ahead of you for now," Vera said softly, with rare gentleness. Then she paused, her tone suddenly filled with deeper meaning.
"What's meant to be yours will be yours in the end."
"Go now!"
Ice and the others were so close, their voices almost at the door. Mary had no time to ponder Vera's words. In a panic, she hurriedly stepped into the portal.
Whoosh~
The portal vanished behind her.
Naturally, Vera wasn't about to stay and wait for a band of witchers. With the magic relic still buzzing faintly in her hand, she stood up gracefully and left for her next destination.
Bang!
The castle doors swung open violently, crashing into the wall behind.
"I told you already, black-maned boars are winter game. You can't make honey-roasted meat this time of year," said the hooded witcher, clearly exasperated.
Spencer, who'd been fantasizing about that dish the entire way back, quickly protested, "Then let's hunt one this afternoon! Lumon, just tell us where—"
"No way!" Lumon, the hooded witcher, cut him off sternly.
"Black-maned boars are dangerous. You're not their match. Keep bothering me and I'll go get Vesemir and Aristo."
More loud bickering erupted among the group.
Lumon didn't even acknowledge their boasts—claims of slaying Alghouls, riding royal griffins, or battling cursed sources of magic.
Boasting? He could boast too. He once "slaughtered a dragon" and "feasted on dragon steak."
But here in Kaer Morhen, where he controlled all the food supplies, his authority wasn't far from the likes of the senior witchers. Why would he care about a bunch of apprentices yelling nonsense?
With no interest in further nonsense, Lumon shut the kitchen door behind him, leaving the noise outside.
The witchers could only grumble as they took their seats at the long oak table.
Then—
"Hey—what the?!"
Ice let out a startled cry.
"There's water all over the table!"
----------------------------------
South Tower, Second Floor – Alchemy Room.
Clang~
The moment Mary stepped out of the portal, she made a beeline for her small room.
A lavishly decorated book lay open on the small wooden table.
It had clearly been flipped through many times, yet it was carefully kept, without a single unsightly crease.
The open page was densely marked in charcoal, annotated with delicate precision.
One section titled "Culinary 'Potion' to Win the Heart of a Handsome, Burly Warrior" had been boldly circled and emphasized.
Though it called itself a potion, it was actually just a recipe.
"Beef, pepper, cinnamon, cloves…"
The ingredients were noted with astonishing precision, down to exact amounts—as if it truly were a magical formula.
Mary stormed up to the table and slammed the book shut with a loud "snap."
In the bright daylight, the golden title embossed in the Aretuza witches' script shimmered on the cover: "How a Magical Lady Can Subtly 'Attract' Handsome Gentlemen."
"Useless! Completely useless!"
"What kind of nonsense is 'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach'?!"
"So what if you capture his stomach? He'll still be stolen by someone else!"
Fuming, Mary pounded the book several times with her soft, chubby fists.
Naturally, it caused no damage whatsoever.
Then she summoned a white birch wand wrapped in golden threads, recited a spell, and prepared to burn the deceitful book with searing flames.
The incantation was complete, the wand glowed with a crimson magical aura of destruction, casting red light over Mary's pale, tear-smudged face.
Mary stared furiously at the ornate cover, destroying it a thousand times over in her mind—but in the end, the spell was never released.
She withdrew her wand and stood in prolonged silence before the defiant "How a Magical Lady Can Subtly 'Attract' Handsome Gentlemen."
Finally, with a sigh, she slid it back onto the bookshelf and pulled out another massive tome, this one engraved with searing flame motifs.
"Secrets of Destruction Within the Flame."
The fiery title radiated an intense energy, as though it might ignite at any moment.
"Listen up, little owl," Mary muttered like a jealous kitten guarding her food, glaring at the new book as she issued a fierce threat: "If you dare try to take Allen from me, I'll use destructive fire magic to burn every single one of your pretty feathers!"
-----------------------------------
Meanwhile—
Vera, after instructing Ida Emean to extract the memory of "Toussaint's Laboratory" from Tomas Moreau, left the dungeons and returned to the beautiful illusionary cage imprisoning Sol.
The breeze was gentle, the air filled with the scent of flowers—an illusion of Toussaint, as serene and perfect as always, far too peaceful for such a dangerous and filthy world.
Sol's acute episode had passed.
As expected—Vera had timed her arrival perfectly.
She passed through flower fields and grapevines, walked into the small courtyard, and pushed open the door—
The thick stench of blood immediately filled her senses.
This, at last, was the true scent the "little cottage" should carry.
"Sol, I've decided."
Vera's voice was resolute as it echoed within the room.
"He deserves to know everything…"
"All of it!"
....
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