Chapter 195 – Allen Encounters the Supreme White Witch
"No!"
With a single swing of his sword, Geralt beheaded the Forgetting Lich. Headmistress Shire let out a hoarse and anguished scream.
The only way to lift the Forgetting Curse was to kill the lich. But doing so also lifted the accompanying Blood Curse.
Deprived of the source that had been sustaining her life, all the illnesses that had once been suppressed in Headmistress Shire's body erupted at once.
Her once ruddy face quickly turned ashen. The overwhelming pain made her whole body tremble uncontrollably.
It wasn't long before she breathed her last in despair.
The nuns began to recall the names of the rescued children one by one.
Thus ended the events at the Oakwood Monastery.
The next morning at dawn, Allen and his companions set out once again.
The demonic incident at the monastery would now be reported up the church hierarchy through the proper internal procedures.
Not long after their departure...
The two evil sorcerers who had once appeared in Temeria resurfaced once more.
They first inspected the lair of the Forgetting Lich. Realizing that their plan had indeed been foiled, their expressions grew grim.
"Damn it. That bastard ruined our setup a second time."
"Did you notice? They've been following the same route as that Mage Griffin. He must've uncovered our secret and was dealt with in advance because of it."
"In that case, it's simple. Let's ambush them at the next location."
"Exactly. Time is running out. We can't afford any more surprises."
…
Along a forest path—
Allen rode on Agatha's back, holding a toilet plunger like a scepter, looking smug as he declared, "Next stop: Redwine Barrel Town! Sir Allen is on the way! Hyah! Hyah!"
"Keep it down," Agatha muttered, using magic to lighten the weight on her back.
She was just a girl, carrying a fully grown man on her back. There was no way she could walk far under normal circumstances. If not for the auxiliary spells passed down through her family's magical heritage, she would've already thrown him off.
Though ostensibly cooperating with Allen's antics for the sake of magical training, the truth was... she secretly enjoyed it.
"Oh-ho, I think you're reluctant. Your mouth says no, but your body's being very honest," Allen teased with a sleazy grin.
"You're the one who's reluctant! Your whole family's reluctant!" Agatha shot back stubbornly.
"I don't believe you. Hyah! Hyah!"
Wielding the plunger triumphantly, Allen shouted, "Sir Allen, mounted on the witch Agatha, leading Sorceress Sister Yao and the humanoid GPS Geralt, will defeat the evil dragon Smaug and rescue the Succubus Princess!"
"Why the Succubus Princess and not the Elf Princess?" Agatha asked, puzzled.
"Succubi are more... versatile. They can strike a lot of different poses," Allen replied solemnly.
"…"
"Wait, who was that floozy that had a thing with that Ibuprofen Mage?"
After two days of running around, Allen had completely ignored the main quest, throwing himself into the investigation of the Forgetting Lich. Now, the original matter finally resurfaced in his mind.
The Ancient One explained, "Mage Griffin was helping a Church Inquisitor deliver a message. One of the nuns at the monastery is the knight's daughter."
"So it was a completely irrelevant matter," Allen muttered, clearly losing interest in other people's personal business.
By evening, they finally arrived at Redwine Barrel Town.
Mage Griffin had only stayed there for one night, so they decided to rest for the night as well before continuing on.
Nighttime made no difference to Geralt, who had night vision, but it was obvious the other three were treating this like a vacation, not taking the mission seriously at all.
In truth, Allen didn't care much for the investigation—he was just going through the motions before returning to Kamar-Taj.
As they strolled down the town's streets, Allen muttered under his breath, "I feel like a thousand eyes are watching me."
"Well, duh. You're a grown man riding on my back. Of course people are staring," Agatha snapped.
If the group hadn't looked so formidable, the local thugs probably would've come over to charge a "toll."
"Agatha?"
A tentative voice called out from behind them.
Agatha froze, body tensing up. "Crap… it's my mom."
She had run away from home to become a disciple at Kamar-Taj. It was only natural her mother, Evanora, would have some stern words for her.
The Harkness family had always produced powerful white witches for generations—there was no need to study under other factions.
In truth, Agatha had rebelled during adolescence and secretly pulled strings to get into Kamar-Taj.
Thanks to Kamar-Taj's prestige, Evanora hadn't dared come fetch her directly.
"Don't be afraid. I'll cover for you," Allen whispered.
As he spoke, he pressed the toilet plunger to Agatha's forehead.
Just then, a mature and graceful woman in a sky-blue coat approached, standing out starkly from the surrounding environment.
"What on earth is going on here?"
Evanora instantly recognized her daughter—and saw she was carrying a man on her back, something that went against every family rule.
"I'm paralyzed from the waist down. Totally reasonable to need someone to carry me," Allen lied shamelessly.
"Agatha, answer me," Evanora said, completely ignoring Allen.
Geralt was walking calmly beside them, holding the reins of his horse. There was clearly no reason for Allen to be riding on Agatha unless something was up.
"She's a unicorn. Can't talk," Allen explained as he stroked the handle of the plunger. "This is her horn. Look how smooth it is."
Agatha remained silent, using sheer stubbornness to resist her mother's authority.
"I asked you a question," Evanora repeated, her tone growing sharper.
"My life is none of your business," Agatha snapped, then stormed off toward the inn, unwilling to argue further.
"Whoa! Too fast! I'm gonna hurl!" Allen moaned exaggeratedly, eyes rolling as he flopped up and down with each step, clearly enjoying the ride far too much.
When they regrouped at the inn, they discovered—surprise, surprise—that Evanora's coven was staying at the very same place.
All the witches wore matching outfits, and when they saw Agatha—clearly having run away from home—they all gave her knowing, teasing smiles.
With nowhere to hide, Agatha could only brace herself for her mother's lecture.
Meanwhile, Allen sauntered up to the group of witches and said with a grin, "Good evening, ladies! I'm Allen, a spirited young man with a tragic past."
"Oh? What's so tragic about it?" one witch asked, amused.
"I was bitten by a dog as a child and got rabies. When I grew up, I found out it was actually a simp dog."
With hopeful eyes, Allen asked, "Sister, want to adopt a simp? My tongue's very flexible."
To prove it, Allen opened his mouth and twisted his tongue into the shape of the word "love."
"…"
After a moment of silence, the witch said awkwardly, "You sure are... talented."
"Everyone says so! I've got such natural talent, even my farts come with a built-in rap rhythm. Want to hear some toilet beats?"
Just as he started to stick out his butt, an older witch with a cold expression said flatly, "We're eating. Kindly don't disturb us."
In a flash, Allen darted back to Agatha's side. He placed a hand on her belly and gave Evanora a smug grin. "Auntie, you wouldn't want the baby to grow up without a dad, right?"
"…"
In that instant, countless shocked gazes turned their way—everyone ready to enjoy the drama.
Evanora's expression changed dramatically, her eyes brimming with murderous intent and suspicion.
Seeing the lethal glare from her mother, Agatha scowled and snapped at Allen, "Out."
"Got it!"
Allen cheerfully complied, somersaulting back to the table where the Ancient One and Geralt were sitting. Once seated, he gave Agatha a thumbs-up and said, "That's all I can do for you. The rest is up to you."
"Don't listen to his nonsense. He's brain-damaged," Agatha muttered in frustration.