"—Those damn son-of-a-bitch sorcerers!"
The curse coming from behind the stone door made Allen halt his steps and look toward Vera Triennes.
Vera shook her head and said, "When I left, Valerius had just made plans with Danthe to go hunting after the meeting ended."
Hearing this, Allen lowered his head and pondered for a few seconds. He had no intention of standing here to listen in on the cause of the argument.
He was also a Witcher Master of the Wolf School—sneaking around to eavesdrop was hardly appropriate.
Clatter.
The stone door opened, and dim candlelight wavered.
The cursing stopped at once.
As they entered the meeting hall, Aristo, with his thick beard bristling, stood there, clearly still unable to rein in his emotions. Master White, his hair already graying, was also standing, patting Aristo on the back as if trying to calm him down.
Sol stood with his back turned. Quite a few of the other Witcher Masters still had anger lingering on their faces, but none of it was directed at Aristo.
So it wasn't Aristo quarreling with someone—though that was common enough—which meant the cause was probably external, and it involved sorcerers—
Allen already had some guesses.
"Allen, you're here," Master Valerius greeted him, patting the seat beside him and pulling out the high-backed chair.
Valerius's seat at the long table was next to Allen's.
His light-golden hair was tied back, his build broad and powerful, like a young male lion. His temperament matched his appearance—bold and forthright.
He enjoyed hunting and had invited Allen along several times over the past month and a half, but because of the heavy training schedule, Allen had only joined once or twice.
Among the Wolf School's Witcher Masters, Valerius was also the only one who habitually carried a longbow and arrows. It wasn't just for hunting—he also used the bow frequently when taking commissions and hunting monsters.
Of course, his arrows were specially made, with reusable heads forged from alloys mixed with witchsilver.
He had once been the second-youngest Witcher Master of the Wolf School, second only to Vesemir—though now he ranked third.
After entering the hall, Vera slipped into the shadows beyond the candlelight. As the de facto—though never self-acknowledged—chief sorceress of the Wolf School, she was entitled to a chair here, but she usually stood in her customary spot behind Sol.
Allen thanked Valerius and sat down.
"What happened?" he asked.
Valerius's face still carried traces of anger as he said heavily, "The statistics are out. Compared to previous years, seven or eight fewer Witchers made it back to overwinter."
As expected—
Allen fell silent.
The so-called statistics were ordered during the first meeting, after he had revealed how Danthe's group had been deliberately set up and attacked.
Master White had been responsible for handling the matter all along.
Allen subconsciously looked toward White. The old master nodded gravely.
With that confirmation, Allen's heart sank.
Excluding Hughes, Bond, Erni, and the others from the Witcher Corps, the Wolf School had only forty to fifty Witchers in total. Losing seven or eight meant nearly twenty percent gone.
And although most Witchers usually returned by this time, it was not yet the final deadline.
In other words, the proportion of "missing" Wolf School Witchers would likely exceed twenty percent.
Allen had anticipated something like this, but he hadn't expected it to be so severe—almost like breaking one of the Wolf School's legs.
Moreover, after descending the mountain, ordinary Witchers avoided gathering together to prevent disputes arising from commissions. They usually traveled alone.
Seven or eight Witchers corresponded to at least seven or eight nobles or extraordinary forces daring to strike at the Wolf School.
Considering the war between Kaedwen and Aedirn, most of the slain Witchers were probably not killed within Kaedwen itself.
And then there were the other forces that might exist but hadn't yet surfaced because they hadn't crossed paths with Wolf School Witchers.
The breadth of the Rogridges family's reach—their hidden power lurking in countries like Temeria and Redania—far exceeded Allen's expectations.
Yet the Rogrides family was clearly a noble house of Kaedwen!
A chill ran through Allen's heart.
"Aristo, where do you think you're going?!" Master White suddenly raised his voice.
While Allen was thinking, Aristo had silently left his seat, grabbed the twin swords from the corner of the wall, and strode toward the exit, murderous intent radiating from him.
"I'm going to kill those sorcerers and nobles," Aristo said grimly, not slowing despite White's shout.
White immediately grabbed him and scolded, "The Rogrides family fled long ago because of Kaedwen's war. Where are you going to kill them? Do you even know where the murderers are?"
Aristo stopped short and held out his hand to White. "Give me last year's list of Witchers' routes. I'll check them one by one."
"And then get yourself dishonorably killed in some ravine or swamp, so I can collect your corpse next year?" White snapped, his brows standing on end.
"I'll go with Aristo," Valerius said, standing up beside Allen.
"I'll go too," Dylan added.
The meeting hall instantly descended into chaos. Only Sol, Danthe, and Gregor remained seated—though Gregor looked eager to move, glancing at the unmoving Sol as if awaiting orders.
"That's enough. Sit down, all of you!" Sol barked. "Don't let anger cloud your judgment. Not everyone who hasn't returned is necessarily dead. What matters now is how we allocate manpower to rescue those who may still be alive."
"We're already short on people. Do you really want to make things worse?"
The hall fell silent.
Aristo, Valerius, and Dylan—already near the door—paused, then, after a few seconds, returned to their seats in frustration.
"The chief is right," said White, slightly out of breath after grappling with the younger masters. "Those kids who haven't returned aren't necessarily dead. And—"
He paused, then turned his head toward Allen and forced a smile. "On this matter, we also need to thank Master Allen."
Thank me? What does this have to do with me? Allen looked confused.
White continued, "During the count, several of them said they also encountered situations where the commission differed drastically from what the client had described."
"Unexpected monsters nearly got them killed. It was thanks to Allen's Killer Whale that they found a chance to escape through nearby waterways."
"At least three people said the same thing."
Being able to say "nearly killed" meant nearly three lives lost.
"So the Witchers who haven't returned aren't necessarily dead," White said, glaring at Aristo. "They may be injured and delayed because they're recovering somewhere."
White wasn't just trying to comfort them.
The Northern Kingdoms were crisscrossed with waterways, and monsters—especially powerful ones—almost all lived near water.
Unless someone was extremely unlucky, trapped in a waterless place like a cave or desert, or plunged straight into the water and happened to encounter a large group of drowners.
Those missing Witchers couldn't all have met with disaster. In fact, more than half of them might still be alive.
And if a Witcher wanted to return to the mountains, there was no way he'd force the journey while injured. He'd wait until he recovered.
Aristo, Valerius, and Dylan thought it over, their expressions easing somewhat.
"Killer Whale—the blue potion from last year?!" Valerius exclaimed as he pulled out his chair, slapping Allen on the shoulder in surprise and admiration. "Well done, Master Allen!"
"Uh… it was just what I should have done," Allen said awkwardly, surrounded by looks that were less simple praise than the tone used to compliment a child who not only did well himself but also helped others improve.
Once your identity was exposed, this was the downside.
Aristo's sudden outburst earlier was probably because Allen had arrived—he couldn't spew vulgar curses freely, hadn't fully vented his emotions, and with his head overheating, he'd tried to act on his rage instead.
"Even if they're all alive, does that mean we don't avenge this?" Aristo nodded to Allen before continuing. "Those seven or eight can't all be alive. I hope they are, but relying on Killer Whale, surviving even half of them would already be difficult."
At that, Aristo suddenly seemed to remember something and turned to White. "White, after they escaped, did they go back to confront the clients? Did you ask?"
"They didn't," White shook his head. "They all followed their usual routes. Those clients were mostly nobles or extraordinary individuals who were normally unfriendly toward Witchers—and most of them weren't weak."
"After escaping, they didn't seek out the clients. They left directly."
Wolf School Witchers weren't fools. Even if they weren't as professional as the masters, they'd been in this line of work for decades. When the difference between the target monster and the commission was that large, it was obviously a trap.
When taking the commission, habit and trust in the client had lowered their guard.
Once they actually encountered the target and realized it didn't match the commission at all, how could they not sense something wrong? The cautious ones—like those three or four Witchers—escaped without a scratch.
If the clients had been more professional, their setup tighter, with fewer flaws—
No Witcher would have gotten away unscathed.
That said, a force influenced by the Rogrides family—mostly noble factions—was targeting Wolf School Witchers. How much monster lore could they really have? How much patience and intelligence to weave a perfect plot?
Even Danthe's case had been like that. Even against a demigod Leshen, he'd still had a chance to escape unharmed.
Seeing a Leshen, if you can't beat it, you just leave. Was it going to chase Danthe back into human settlements?
The key issue was that Danthe had brought along Hughes, Bond, and Fred—three deadweights.
The Witcher Masters present all realized this as well, and their expressions softened further.
After all, a Witcher with a strong body, refined swordsmanship, and rich combat experience—so long as he didn't act recklessly—was not that easy to kill.
"Let's put revenge aside for now and talk about rescuing people," Danthe said. "Don't forget, the expedition to Dol Dhu Lokke is happening in the next few days. At least half of the people here will have to take part."
The meeting hall fell silent again.
It was a forced choice.
Those Witcher Masters who joined the expedition couldn't participate in the rescue—and no one knew how long the expedition would last.
Even if the missing Witchers were alive, they might not be able to wait that long.
Conversely, those who joined the rescue wouldn't have any chance to go on the expedition. It wasn't a single fixed location, but seven or eight routes spanning half the Northern Continent.
Ordinary Witchers usually went to seek commissions in remote, out-of-the-way villages.
How long that would take was impossible to say.
Of course, one could argue that the lives of a few Wolf School Witchers were certainly more important than a single commission.
But setting aside the fact that tearing up a commission with such wide-reaching influence—one known across the Northern Continent—would have on the Wolf School, it would almost certainly shake the Northern Kingdoms' overall impression of the Witcher schools as a whole.
More importantly, hostile forces were already stirring the waters in secret, waiting for the Wolf School to expose problems and weaknesses. There was no room to show even the slightest sign of weakness—otherwise, they would be surrounded and devoured by wolves.
They not only had to participate in the expedition, they also could not allow news of the Wolf School Witchers being attacked on a large scale to leak out during the expedition.
And more important still—
If fewer people participated, and there were forces during the expedition clearly targeting the Wolf School, what would happen to the Witchers who went?
And what about Allen?
One had to remember that not long ago, they had agreed to establish a base in Dol Dhu Lokke.
If the Wolf School did not display sufficient strength, leaving aside whether other forces would interfere, Tissaia de Vries herself would be unlikely to agree.
And there was also—
Winter was approaching. At Kaer Morhen, at least one Witcher Master had to remain behind to handle the school's winter arrangements and prevent other incidents.
Although, for the expedition to Dol Dhu Lokke, nearly every Witcher school and sorcerers' organization was sending out almost all their forces, and anyone who attacked expedition participants outside the expedition would surely be attacked by all sides, there was no guarantee that there wouldn't be further contingencies after the conspiracy. They had to be on guard.
"I'll take the Witcher Corps with me," Allen said after taking a deep breath. "The other schools will probably only send around ten people anyway. The Griffin School and Bear School have fewer people than the Wolf School—ten is already generous, at most seven or eight Witchers."
"But those ten are mostly Witcher Masters—" White said hesitantly. Sending only the young Witchers of the Witcher Corps would not only look bad, it would also be far too dangerous for Allen and the others.
"That's enough," Allen said. "Hughes and the others have improved a lot recently. For the Dol Dhu Lokke expedition, we can—"
"Let's proceed according to the original plan," Vera suddenly spoke, cutting him off with decisive authority. "Sol, Vesemir, Valerius, and Gregor will follow you on the expedition. Aristo stays behind. Danthe, White, and Dylan will come with me to rescue the others."
"My portals have records of many locations across the Northern Continent. That will save travel time. Three people following me is enough."
The sorceress, who almost never participated in discussions, suddenly spoke—and issued direct orders at that. Everyone was momentarily stunned.
Valerius and Dylan exchanged a glance without drawing attention. Like the other Witcher Masters, they tacitly chose not to speak.
Allen, however, said in surprise, "But didn't you already promise Lady Tissaia that you would—"
"Tissaia doesn't lack one alchemist," Vera said, her tone softening almost imperceptibly. "You—no, the Wolf School's affairs are more important."
The Wolf School's affairs are more important—those were words one would never have expected to hear from the Crimson Fox. Valerius and Dylan exchanged another subtle, meaningful glance.
"That's enough discussion about the expedition," Vera said. "If no one has any other objections, let's move on to the next topic—"
"What topic?" Allen asked reflexively.
In Vera's dark crimson eyes, blood-colored light rippled.
"Revenge."
....
📢Advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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