"Am I not a druid already?" Allen said in confusion. "I remember you said yesterday that once one steps into the 'Oak Grove,' one is a formal druid."
Zebi Ortega's rough old face flushed red. "That's not what I meant… Of course you're a druid now, but you need a more professional organization to study in… I'm not saying witchers are bad, or that the Wolf School is inferior to Mayena Druid Circle, but…"
The old druid grew incoherent, the coarse wrinkles on his face trembling as his complexion grew redder and redder.
Still, Allen understood the gist of it, and roughly grasped that the talent he was now "displaying" was probably quite rare even among druids.
He didn't feel that Zebi Ortega's change in attitude, following the contrast in displayed talent, was worldly or calculating.
If he were merely a fourteen-year-old witcher fresh out into the world, he might have thought so—perhaps even felt displeased by the implicit belittling of witchers in Zebi Ortega's tone.
But as someone who had lived two lives, he wouldn't.
On the contrary, he felt a warm glow inside, like soaking in a hot spring.
Because even when he had shown no talent at all—when for nearly a week he couldn't even enter meditation—Zebi Ortega, a Great Druid of high standing in the Mayena Druid Circle, had shown no impatience whatsoever. Instead, he had continually comforted him, carefully helping to fill in gaps and correct mistakes.
Kind and responsible, just like the few teachers Allen had encountered in his previous life.
Clearly, the student's future had nothing to do with him at all, yet he couldn't bear to see someone waste their years, squander their youth and talent, and walk down the wrong path.
What benefit would Zebi Ortega gain if Allen betrayed the Wolf School and joined the Mayena Druid Circle?
The Mayena Druid Circle wasn't like Ban Ard or Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization, where personal attachment was strong and apprentices could help their mentors make money.
Even if an apprentice's status rose, it wouldn't boost the mentor's standing in turn.
Put simply, there was no real hierarchy of status among druids.
A group of Great Druids with no secular desires, living deep in mountains and forests, keeping company with beasts, and meditating for years at a time—what worldly interests could they possibly compete over?
They had even less stratification than the Temple of Melitele.
And once Allen truly followed his advice, Zebi Ortega would instead offend all the witcher schools and gain nothing but trouble within the Mayena Druid Circle.
Of course.
Zebi Ortega probably hadn't thought that far. He was simply a pure-hearted good teacher whose emotions had gotten the better of him, unable to watch an apprentice waste their talent.
So—
"Thank you, Mentor Zebi Ortega," Allen said sincerely. "But I'm doing well in the Wolf School. And being a witcher doesn't prevent one from pursuing the Path of Nature, does it?"
Zebi Ortega grew a little anxious. "How could it not prevent it? Witchers… witchers…"
He met Allen's calm blue, cat-like eyes. Someone with that kind of gaze was resolute, not easily persuaded.
Once he calmed down, Zebi Ortega suddenly realized that if Allen were truly convinced by him, there would be a host of consequences that might ruin both their reputations.
For an old druid close to death like him, it didn't matter. With a clear conscience, his reputation wouldn't matter for the few remaining years before he went to serve the Mother of Nature.
But Allen still had a long, very long road ahead of him…
Although modern witchers were no longer like those of the Witcher Order era, talking about honor and responsibility—and even the Bear School, one of the orthodox witcher schools, took commissions purely for pay and occasionally even moonlighted as bandits—
A witcher not doing his primary work was still unacceptable, a major taboo.
Once a witcher became a witcher, he would be one for life—a lifelong killing tool for humanity to cleanse monsters.
A sword may accidentally wound allies or even its wielder, but it must never fail to kill.
A sword that does not kill will only rust away in wind and rain; to prevent other swords from developing heretical ideas, it will inevitably be cruelly snapped and hung high upon the city gate for all to see.
Zebi Ortega fell silent for a few seconds, pressing his dry lips together.
"I'm sorry, Allen. I didn't think it through."
"It's fine," Allen gently shook his head and changed the subject. "Shall we set off now?"
Zebi Ortega remained silent for a few more seconds before nodding. "If you have no other matters, then now."
He looked at the witcher's composed demeanor, felt the increasingly approachable aura of nature about him, and felt even more regretful.
Why did such a good child have to be a witcher…
—
Leaving the small wooden cabin where Allen lived, Mentor Zebi Ortega led the way ahead.
The place where Lydia had lived was not in the same area as Allen's, and the distance between them was not short.
The Mayena Druid Circle was a very ancient druid circle. All the dwellings within it were not planned like those in human cities, but were residential areas built by druids who had once lived there.
As a result, depending on each druid's preferences, some dwellings were very close to the nearby city of Mayena, while others were not. Although houses were not allowed to be built in the inner ring of the Mayena Druid Circle, most were still located in sparsely populated areas of the outer ring.
Some residential areas were large; others were small.
In some areas, houses like Allen's cabin were built beneath ancient oak trees, looking as though they had been hollowed out from thick trunks, with a feeling reminiscent of the Shire from The Lord of the Rings. Other houses were built from rough stone blocks…
And even within the same residential area, architectural styles varied greatly…
Yet perhaps because the builders were druids, despite the strange and varied forms, most buildings blended naturally with their surroundings, forming scenery of considerable charm.
When his injuries had just healed, Allen had quite enjoyed wandering around the outer ring of the Mayena Druid Circle, admiring the druids' different inspirations and their splendid creations fused with nature.
That aside—
Because Allen had needed Vesemir's treatment, and Vesemir, as the mistress of the Mayena Druid Circle, had many daily affairs to attend to, the place arranged for him was near what could be considered the main thoroughfare of the circle.
But Lydia was different.
The place where Lydia lived was somewhere Allen had never visited during his strolls.
Although it was also in the outer ring of the Mayena Druid Circle, it was extremely far from the main path—so far that there wasn't even a footpath worn by people's steps. Instead, one had to go straight into dense, vigorously growing shrubs.
"The house Lydia chose originally belonged to a druid from the Skellige Isles," Zebi Ortega said, seemingly noticing Allen's confusion and breaking the silence along the way. "The climate of the Skellige Isles is harsh; storms, cold, and blizzards are not uncommon there."
"Thus, druids from the Skellige Isles mostly advocate ascetic practices, to temper their will and their faith in the Mother of Nature."
"That druid, among those from the Skellige Isles who once came to the Mayena Druid Circle, lived in a particularly remote place."
Hearing this, Allen asked curiously, "Aside from Lydia, have many people lived in this house?"
Zebi Ortega waved his wooden staff, causing the dense thorny shrubs to part and form a flat passage. After recalling for a moment, he shook his head.
"Very few."
"At least in my memory, only Lydia."
Zebi Ortega answered with considerable certainty.
He turned his head toward Allen and continued explaining, "The Mayena Druid Circle may have existed since ancient times—perhaps even before the elves, the Aen Seidhe's ancestors, arrived on the continental coast aboard white ships and landed near the Pontar and Yaruga Rivers."
"The houses here are extremely scattered. No one knows how many small huts there are in the outer ring, and no one would deliberately arrange for 'guests' to live in such remote places."
"So I remember it very clearly."
"At the time, it was Lydia herself who requested it. She said she knew that druid from the Skellige Isles."
Zebi Ortega never spoke the name of the original owner of Lydia's dwelling.
It was quite an impolite thing to do, but Allen guessed that Mentor Zebi Ortega probably didn't know that druid's name at all.
"Could it have been to avoid persecution by humans?" Allen proposed a possibility, watching the Great Druid lost in thought, his expression puzzled.
"Impossible," Zebi Ortega shook his head. "Although the human kingdoms did indeed hate elves at that time, anywhere within the Mayena Druid Circle—even the outermost edge of the outer ring—was safe."
"Besides Lydia, there were quite a few nearby elves who came to the Mayena Druid Circle to take refuge."
"What protected them was never the remoteness of the location or the terrain, but the fact that this place is the Mayena Druid Circle."
Allen asked thoughtfully, "And then you agreed?"
"Of course not," Zebi Ortega shook his head again. "As you can see, this place is far too remote. It's simply not suitable for long-term living by anyone other than druids—after all, we can survive on nature's gifts."
"Moreover, although the beasts within the druid circle have all been tamed, that area could hardly even be considered part of the outer ring anymore. On top of that, Temeria had just gone through a war back then, and necrophages were running rampant."
"Vesemir and I were both firmly against it at the time."
"But in the end, you accepted?" Allen prompted.
Zebi Ortega nodded. "Yes. Because Lydia was extremely insistent, and she proved to us that she was a fairly capable sorceress. But in truth, our worries were justified…"
He let out a soft sigh, parting the wildly growing branches for Allen as he spoke: "After Lydia went missing, it was quite a long time before she was discovered by a druid who just happened to pass by."
"By then, the house was covered in a thick layer of dust."
"Later, we always thought that Lydia had left without saying goodbye—until you suddenly mentioned it a few days ago, and only then did we realize…"
Zebi Ortega did not continue, only letting out a quiet sigh.
Although he and Lydia had merely exchanged greetings in the past, hearing that someone he once knew had not only died an unnatural death—most likely at the hands of her former lover—but that her soul had also been imprisoned within a golem to guard her own flesh and blood…
Such a twisted and tragic fate left one with indescribably mixed emotions.
Zebi Ortega had not only met her; perhaps, in some way, he had even influenced her destiny.
The old druid was thinking…
If he had insisted back then, arranged another residence for her, and helped her make a few druid friends—would such a miserable calamity have failed to descend upon her?
But it was impossible now.
The Sword of Destiny has two edges, and neither can cut its way back into the past.
Only after the old druid's emotions settled did Allen ask again, "Did Lydia never mention Tomas Moreau, and… and her child?"
Zebi Ortega shook his head. "I didn't know Lydia well. Although she stayed in the Mayena Druid Circle for many years afterward, we only met a handful of times."
"If you hadn't mentioned it a few days ago, I wouldn't even have known she had a partner, let alone a child…"
After he finished speaking—
There was silence between Zebi Ortega and Allen for quite some time. Later, Zebi Ortega asked about Jerome Moreau.
Allen chose the parts he could talk about and recounted them slowly. But in truth, there wasn't much to tell.
Although his relationship with Jerome Moreau could already be considered one forged through life and death—
Allen had rescued Jerome Moreau from a dungeon, and when Jerome Moreau heard that Allen was in grave danger, he had come to his rescue without hesitation, despite the threats posed by massive forces like Ban Ard and Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization.
That was not an easy decision to make.Yet the time he had truly known Jerome Moreau amounted to no more than one or two months, and was limited mostly to Jerome Moreau's background…
A Griffin School witcher grandmaster, the child of Tomas Moreau, the world's first witcher to complete a second mutation…
Beyond that, he knew nothing.
But that was enough.
Enough for Zebi Ortega, after hearing it all, to sigh at the unpredictability of the world. And Allen, meanwhile, grew ever more expectant about what he would gain this time.
Although Mentor Zebi Ortega hadn't provided any particularly valuable information, Lydia's series of strange actions within the Mayena Druid Circle almost allowed Allen to conclude—Lydia must have had a secret in the Mayena Druid Circle, hidden within that remote dwelling.
Perhaps in just a few days, he would be able to find a way to revive Gwendolyn, the Lady of Spring; uncover the truth of the ancient elves destroyed by the White Frost; and discover the root of the Child of Surprise prophecy…
"But to be honest," Zebi Ortega suddenly said, "a remote dwelling isn't without its advantages."
"Generally speaking, residences that haven't been returned to for a long time are cleaned once in a while."
"But Lydia's dwelling—due to the elves' long lifespans, and more importantly because this place is simply too remote for anyone to live in—has had all its remaining items preserved intact…"
"…we're just ahead now…"
As he spoke, after turning another corner, Zebi Ortega—who was leading the way—suddenly stopped in his tracks and exclaimed in surprise: "Grandmaster! What are you doing here?"
..........
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