Vilgefortz's voice cut off abruptly, and everyone at the long table turned their gaze toward Allen.
Snap—
Vera sighed inwardly and snapped her fingers.
In an instant, the shattered crystal and the mess on the table were cleared away, and a fresh glass of wine appeared before Allen.
"Thank you, Lady Vera," Allen said casually, turning his head slightly.
Vera lowered her eyes and shook her head.
Allen's gaze returned to the long table. Beneath it, he gently patted Mary's right hand, which had been clutching at the hem of his trousers out of fright from the sudden noise.
"Forgive my lapse just now," he said softly. "I didn't expect news of this magnitude. Sunny's attack on the Aen Seidhe… does that mean they're ready to establish a kingdom of sorcerers?"
"This is no good news for us."
Tissaia de Vries didn't dwell on his outburst, smoothly continuing, "Vilgefortz told me before: because of King Demavend II's mad vengeance and the wars it sparked, most of the lesser nobles from southern Kaedwen have migrated to New Ban Ard."
"That's correct," Vilgefortz agreed thoughtfully. "From the number of nobles and troops gathered there, Ban Ard already has all the qualifications to found a kingdom. What they lack is only a name…"
"A fig leaf, nothing more," Tissaia sneered. "Crying that elves betrayed them to join the Wild Hunt and stole Ban Ard's treasures—only fools would believe such nonsense."
Allen instinctively arched a brow at her words, but at that moment his eyes met the scrutinizing, gray-green gaze of Vilgefortz.
A chill passed through the witcher's heart; he forced his muscles to stay relaxed and turned his eyes away naturally.
Seeing no hint of anomaly, Vilgefortz went on, "But for Sunny and Ortolan, that's more than enough."
"Not every noble on the Continent is as clear-headed as you, Lady Tissaia."
"Rather, compared to fighting Ban Ard head-on for no gain, it's easier to embrace a convenient lie and continue their comfortable lives."
"Wiping out the aen seidhe entirely gives their sorcerer kingdom a legitimate claim. Dishonorable, yes—but sufficient."
Tissaia shook her head. "Ever since Ortolan established the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization, he too has been tainted by greed and hunger for power. For a sorcerer's career in research, that's fatal."
"But while the aen seidhe have indeed suffered undeserved disaster and deserve pity, on the road here I thought of something: this may actually be our opportunity."
She paused, scanning the faces around the table.
"Since the fall of Shaerrawedd, the aen seidhe have clung to survival, but not perished outright—they clearly still have something to rely on."
"Perhaps we can take advantage of Ban Ard's temporary emptiness in these days to rescue Hen Gedymdeith ahead of schedule."
"Once Hen Gedymdeith is freed, Ban Ard's agitation will naturally calm, and both Kaedwen's secular realm and the order among sorcerers can return to stability."
"I'm afraid that won't work." Vilgefortz denied Tissaia flatly.
She froze, straightening in her chair, hands gripping the armrests. "Why not?"
"Because of the Wild Hunt," Vilgefortz said, draining his cup. "Sunny and Ortolan have always been extremely wary of those monsters that soar in the skies."
"Not only has Ban Ard been shielded at great cost by Giambattista's Spatial Isolation Barrier, but the academy's defenses grow more stringent by the day."
"This campaign only involves noble levies drawn by war, and the Rissberg's modified beasts. The true sorcerers with them are only a handful of apprentices and ritualists—meant to conceal movements and ward off ambushes."
"The majority of high-ranking sorcerers, as well as the strongest of those altered creatures, remain in Ban Ard."
"Moreover…"
Vilgefortz sighed helplessly. "Sunny has hidden Hen Gedymdeith very deeply. At present, I only have a few leads."
Tissaia de Vries fell silent.
She lowered her head, staring at the grain of the oak table, absently swirling her wine glass as she sank into thought.
The hall grew quiet for a moment.
"There's something I don't quite understand," Allen suddenly spoke, breaking the silence and drawing the eyes of Tissaia and the others. "Sunny and Ortolan are being so 'thrifty' with manpower, sending only routed troops and some altered creatures—can they really achieve their goal with that?"
"The elves are no longer the aen seidhe who once dominated the Continent," said Vera, who had been silent until now.
"Since Aelirenn's uprising, after they lost Shaerrawedd—the last elven court—the number of elves still able to fight in the Blue Mountains is probably fewer than a thousand."
That few? Allen blinked, then pressed, "Then why in the past…"
"Why Kaedwen didn't finish them off?" Vera gently continued for him.
Allen nodded.
Vera didn't answer right away. She tapped the table lightly with her finger, recalling as she spoke: "A hundred years ago, right after Aelirenn's rebellion ended, of course Kaedwen wanted to crush the aen seidhe in one stroke."
"But before long, their armies were stopped cold by the towering, impassable peaks of the Blue Mountains, the dense forests, and traps hidden everywhere."
"The aen seidhe had just retreated deep into the range then. They had no stable dwellings, but with clever magic they could sustain themselves. Simlas Finn aep Dabairr had even foreseen Aelirenn's failure, and was fully prepared."
"As a result, Kaedwen's armies took heavy losses."
"Defeat after defeat drove the mages to quit the war first, seizing the site that would become Ban Ard. Then western nobles followed. In the end, even Kaedwen's own royal line—Henselt's grandfather—was forced to halt, consolidating the land they had just taken."
"Simlas Finn aep Dabairr then seized the chance to forge peace with humanity."
"But only a few years after the pact, Henselt's grandfather died during a hunt—gored through the lungs by a wild boar."
"Henselt's father, seeking to steady his throne, once considered striking at the Aen Seidhe. But he lacked the renown to rally an army."
"By the time he gained both power and prestige, the need was gone."
"Kaedwen's enemies were never only the Aen Seidhe—Aedirn, Temeria, and Redania, every neighbor pressed against them at one time or another."
"With threats circling on all sides, pushing into the Blue Mountains against the elves would have cost more than it gained."
"Besides prestige, there was little to be had."
"The Aen Seidhe wrapped themselves up like a hedgehog—small, but dangerous. Even the hungriest winter bear avoids such prey."
"And despite relations running cold, trade still went on between them."
"Elven art, ornaments, and tailoring were hard currency on the Northern Continent. Through it, Kaedweni nobles made a fine profit off other kingdoms."
"So even Henselt never truly thought of wiping out the Aen Seidhe. His hostility was only to drain surplus population at home, and to keep the elves from growing in secret."
"But Sunny and Ortolan don't see it that way," Allen muttered, his heart sinking.
"Of course not," Tissaia interjected. "What they want is prestige—enough to found a kingdom."
"And though Kaedwen was just defeated in the last war, the noble armies now gathered at Ban Ard, plus the Rissberg Cooperative's altered beasts…"
"Together they're far stronger than the forces that marched after Aelirenn's uprising a century ago."
"Ban Ard also knows the terrain of the Blue Mountains much better than back then."
Vilgefortz nodded as well, adding, "Even if the campaign turns ugly later, Ban Ard will still have the strength to finish it."
Tissaia de Vries let out a soft sigh.
"To wipe out every single elf is, of course, impossible. But as long as they have the head of the Elven King, Simlas Finn aep Dabairr, along with the royal lineage and the lives of most of the Aen Seidhe—that will be enough."
Allen's heart sank completely.
Without outside help, the Aen Seidhe truly had no future.
Suddenly, his thigh was gently tapped.
Allen looked down—it was Vera's hand.
Yet the sorceress wasn't looking at him at all; she kept her eyes calmly on the wine in her cup.
Allen drew in a long breath, forcing away the chaos in his mind, and said: "Let's put aside these side matters. We should be discussing how to rescue Hen Gedymdeith…"
But there wasn't much to discuss about rescuing Hen Gedymdeith.
Vilgefortz didn't even know where Hen Gedymdeith was imprisoned, let alone when the rescue could take place.
The heated debate Allen had imagined—people defending their plans and arguing for strategies—never happened.
After touching briefly on a few details, Vilgefortz, without setting any conditions, simply promised to do his best to discover Hen Gedymdeith's location.
This delighted Tissaia de Vries. She praised him repeatedly—"Worthy of being a Source of Magic," "Male mages outside Ban Ard are indeed more rational and reliable," "The future of the brotherhood has hope again"—and even pledged to fully support him in attaining a seat on the Brotherhood's High Council.
Vilgefortz, of course, thanked her profusely.
For a while, Allen felt like nothing more than an outsider, merely providing the venue.
From the others' perspective, that was natural. Allen had only met Vilgefortz once before, and the School of the Wolf had no resources he needed.
If the rescue failed, Aretuza would be Vilgefortz's only safe retreat.
Yet Allen couldn't shake the feeling that Vilgefortz had come here specifically for him—that his real purpose was just to see him.
"Actually…" Someone who had stayed quiet until now finally spoke—Sol. After Vilgefortz and Tissaia had settled the details, he suddenly said: "Rescuing Hen Gedymdeith doesn't necessarily require Allen."
"I could take his place, infiltrate Ban Ard."
Tissaia de Vries froze for a moment, her eyes flickering with thought.
Among all the witcher masters, Allen's record—which she had witnessed firsthand—made him the most reliable choice.
But Sol, Sol Henrietta, was on an entirely different level. Beyond slaying dragons, he had even once driven out an elder god.
He was the superior choice.
"Too many people in Ban Ard have seen Grandmaster Sol," Vilgefortz said before Tissaia could respond, shaking his head. "Inside and outside the city, security is tight. It would be far too dangerous."
Tissaia thought for a moment, then nodded lightly.
"True. Otherwise, I wouldn't have sent Philippa there in the first place."
Sol let out a quiet sigh and fell silent.
Allen said nothing either.
After that, Tissaia de Vries and Vilgefortz discussed a few more details before standing up, ready to leave.
But they weren't leaving Kaer Morhen altogether—they would both be staying at the ancient sea fortress for a few days.
Tissaia had already promised to enchant Allen's Wolf School master armor.
Vilgefortz, on the other hand, used the "excuse" of needing to evaluate Allen and Philippa Eilhart's abilities in order to chart the most suitable path forward—so he stayed as well.
"The journey has been exhausting. Don't rush into anything else just yet—get some rest. There will be a banquet tonight in the castle hall. Aristo," Sol rose from his seat and instructed, "take them to settle in first. There should still be some vacant chambers in the fortress."
Aristo nodded and walked ahead to open the door for them.
Tissaia nodded too and was just about to leave the room. But as she passed Sol, her steps suddenly faltered. She cast him a questioning look.
"What is it, Lady Tissaia?" Vilgefortz asked when he saw her pause.
Tissaia frowned slightly. "Sol… have you… changed somehow, recently?"
"I'm a witcher pushing three hundred years old—what kind of change could I possibly have?" Sol shook his head. "Do you sense something different about me?"
Tissaia pondered for a moment, then relaxed her brows, smiling faintly as she shook her head. "Nothing. Perhaps it's just that we haven't met in a long time."
"Let's not dwell on it. If Philippa Eilhart returns, send her to me."
"I will," Allen nodded.
Tissaia inclined her head lightly, then left with Aristo without further delay.
Following behind, Vilgefortz reached the doorway, and as if suddenly remembering something, pulled out an object about the size of his palm from his chest and handed it to Allen.
"This is my gift of apology. Please, do not refuse it."
Allen, standing at the door, froze for a moment. Almost reflexively, he accepted it. But by the time he looked up to ask what it was, Vilgefortz and Lydia van Bredevoort had already hurried after Aristo.
A gift of apology… a letter?
Allen frowned, glancing down at the letter-like piece of chiffon parchment in his hand. He turned it over.
On the front was a golden wax seal and a line of Elder Speech—seemingly a book title.
"A… Aen… Hen… Ichaer…"
"Aen Hen Ichaer…"
Allen's sapphire cat-like pupils narrowed into slits.
"Elder Blood!"
.....
📢Advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: [email protected]/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
1. 20 advanced chapters of The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes.
2. 30 advanced chapters of What year is this? You're still writing a traditional diary?.