Candles flickered dimly along the long table, and the meeting hall fell silent in an instant.
Revenge was not an inappropriate topic.
Someone had deliberately used false information to plot against and assassinate Witchers of the Wolf School. Whether from an emotional standpoint or from the practical need for deterrence, revenge was necessary.
Otherwise, how were Witchers traveling the Northern Continent supposed to accept commissions with peace of mind?
Were they supposed to conduct a background investigation on every client before taking a job?
Witcher Masters—or those powerful Witchers with great renown across the Northern Continent—might be able to do that. But what about Witchers who had just passed the Trial of the Path?
Leaving aside the question of how an outsider was even supposed to investigate, didn't investigations take time? How much would the cost of trust between client and Witcher increase as a result?
If every client had to be investigated, how many commissions could an ordinary Witcher take in a year? After accounting for wear and tear on weapons and equipment, they probably wouldn't even be able to support themselves.
Creating a good hunting environment for Witchers was an unspoken obligation of the schools.
And unlike the covert smear campaigns by Kaedwen's former king, "the Glutton" Henselt, and the Ban Ard radicals, this was a direct attempt to cut into the Wolf School's artery with a dagger.
The Wolf School could not silence everyone just because someone was slandering them—and indeed, it couldn't—but it had to chop off any hands that dared reach out.
Every single one had to be skinned and stripped to the bone.
There was no doubt about it—this was a war.
However, while the topic of revenge itself was not the problem, the problem lay with the person who raised it: Vera Triennes.
In the past—no, not "almost," but never—had the sorceress ever spoken proactively at a Witcher Masters' meeting. Like a ghost at the table, a mere witness to proceedings, she had always remained silent.
Yet today, she had not only spoken of her own accord, but interrupted everyone, directly settling the outcome of the previous topic.
And now she was even speaking on behalf of the Witchers, declaring revenge outright—
Since when did the Crimson Fox care so deeply about the Wolf School's Witchers?
Even Aristo, who was usually the most radical when it came to revenge, failed to keep up emotionally for a moment. He looked at Sol in confusion, his face plainly asking: What's going on with your wife today?
Valerius and Dylan also stared at each other.
The meeting hall sank into an eerie silence.
"What's wrong?" Vera asked when no one answered, her delicate brows knitting slightly. "Weren't you just now ready to risk everything, even without a list or routes, to leave Kaer Morhen and take revenge?"
"Why is no one speaking now?"
"Aristo, what do you think?"
Aristo, who had been trying to read something from Sol's expressionless face, jolted, hurriedly casting aside some strange thoughts and saying directly, "When we follow the routes to rescue people, we capture those clients who deliberately set ambushes and framed us—and kill them all."
"The client isn't necessarily the mastermind—or at least not the only one," Danthe shook his head, unconvinced. "Just like what happened to me in Montecalvo—"
"I took the commission from the House family's steward. The steward didn't know the true nature of the commission; he was acting on orders from Young House."
"Young House set up the trap to curry favor with the administrator far away in Drakenberg—Redania's Baron Evenson."
"And Evenson was acting on a commission from the Truth of All Things Trading Guild, a subordinate merchant guild of the Sorcerers' Brotherhood."
"Padrek Vasquez of the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization acted as the middleman, introducing Evenson to the Truth of All Things Trading Guild. Ronnie Dickinson knew nothing about this, but when he received Bond from Evenson, he happily accepted him and planned to use him for experiments."
"And the Truth of All Things Trading Guild is merely a shell disguising the Rogrides family—"
Danthe carefully swept his gaze across the long table, taking in the grave expressions of the Witcher Masters, before his eyes finally settled on Aristo.
"Aristo, you can't just kill the steward because he issued a false commission, or kill Young House because the false commission came from him."
"That's useless."
"Young House was just a tool."
"If you kill him, it becomes very difficult to trace Evenson, Padrek Vasquez, and Ronnie Dickinson in Drakenberg—one hundred kilometers away from Montecalvo—let alone the golden acorn hidden behind the Truth of All Things Trading Guild (the Rogrides family crest)—
"And there's more—"
Danthe paused and looked across the table at Allen.
"I must thank Master Allen—"
"Danthe, you don't have to do that. We're all—" Allen said hurriedly.
"Let me finish, Allen," Danthe waved a hand to stop him, then said solemnly, "Ever since Drakenberg, I've owed you a thank-you—not only because you saved me, but because you saved my Path apprentices Hughes, Bond, and Fred."
"You saved my reputation, and you avenged us on the spot."
"At the Temple of Melitele in Ellander, you have no idea how satisfying it was, under the witness of everyone present, to see Evenson's head roll across the temple's grand hall."
As he spoke, Danthe suddenly rose from his seat. Under the gaze of all the Witcher Masters at the table, he bowed deeply to Allen.
"Allen, I owe you a favor—a life."
"But I still have to say—"
Danthe waved his hand, pulling a wry smile as he gestured for the flustered Allen to sit back down, then said seriously, "Passing judgment on a king's noble without the king's consent was still too impulsive."
"At the very least, it shouldn't have been you. It should have been me—the one inside the situation."
Allen froze. In Danthe's eyes, he saw guilt on the verge of overflowing. He immediately understood: what had happened at the Sorcerers' Brotherhood assembly—where he had been targeted and schemed against by male mages sent by the Rogrides family and the King of Redania—had become known to Danthe.
Allen looked toward the sorceress standing in the candlelit shadows.
She quietly avoided his gaze.
Vera—
Allen silently repeated the name in his heart, then joked, "Master Danthe, you can't compete with me. Ellander is all my people."
Danthe was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter. "That's right—you're impossible to compete with. After all, you're Sir Allen of Ellander."
Only after Danthe finished did Allen say seriously, "Hughes, Bond, and Fred are brothers who went through the mountain trials with me. I was only avenging them. So, Master Danthe, you don't need to blame yourself."
Danthe gently shook his head, but did not continue debating responsibility or guilt. Instead, he turned back to Aristo.
"The steward, Young House, Redanian Baron Evenson, Padrek Vasquez of the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization, Ronnie Dickinson, the Bald One—Radovid IV—"
"And if Ortolan and the large number of high-ranking male mages from the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization hadn't gone missing at Ban Ard, we'd also have to count Ortolan, as well as Padrek Vasquez's and Ronnie Dickinson's friends, superiors, and subordinates—"
"Aristo, this isn't a single straight thread. It's a tangled ball of yarn—a complex web of relationships."
"Your approach won't work."
"And we can't, after already offending Radovid IV, further sink the Wolf School into the mire by killing nobles of other kings."
"The Rogrides family—perhaps—no, they definitely planned it this way."
Redania had already been offended. If they were to then offend the formerly friendly Temeria, or other countries, there would be no need for the Rogrides family to take a next step—the Wolf School would inevitably head toward destruction.
It wouldn't even require another king to intervene.
Evenson was, in fact, a special case. He wasn't a landed baron with real authority, but rather a court title, directly subordinate to the king himself.
That was why, after Evenson was executed, the "Bald One," Radovid IV, reacted with such fury—going so far as to risk offending Tissaia de Vries by sowing discord at the crucial assembly for the Dol Dhu Lokke expedition.
It was a highly symbolic political act, representing Radovid IV's resolve and will.
But if Evenson had been a true landed baron with real power, the situation for the Wolf School wouldn't have been any better—indeed, it would likely have been worse.
To begin with, a landed baron with real authority was an important member of a noble family. Evenson's family couldn't do much to the Wolf School after his death—but the same wouldn't necessarily be true of a true territorial baron.
Bloodlines, marriages, contracts—behind a landed baron with real authority, it was impossible to say how many other landed barons' powers might be entangled.
That would be the most direct, the bloodiest, the most "sacred" form of blood-kin vengeance.
Don't think that just because Witchers themselves were powerful, they could ignore blood-kin vengeance. This wasn't a duel between individuals, but a fight to the death between one force and another.
The side seeking blood-kin vengeance even possessed a legitimate casus belli. In theory, they could dispatch troops through neutral powers and directly attack Kaer Morhen.
And aside from blood-kin vengeance, a landed baron with real authority would inevitably swear fealty to an equally powerful count or even a duke.
A vassal's loyalty to their liege corresponded to the liege's obligation to protect the vassal—at least in theory, these duties were equal.
"The Bald One," Radovid, because of the witness of the Temple of Melitele and the Temerian royal family, had to consider the impact on national image and relations with Temeria, and therefore avoid war.
But if it were a powerful count or duke instead, they wouldn't need to consider so much—and in fact couldn't afford to. Revenge would be their only choice; otherwise, their vassals' loyalty would crumble.
So any option other than blood-kin vengeance was still a war—a larger, more far-reaching war.
And more often than not, the two weren't mutually exclusive, but merged into one.
The Wolf School's individual strength was formidable, but it couldn't withstand such a campaign—especially since the school's hostile forces could also be hired, now possessing legitimate grounds to kill Witchers traveling the continent.
The Wolf School's Witcher Masters might not be politically sensitive, but none of them were fools. Once this was pointed out, they could all grasp the implication.
Thus, having thought it through, Aristo fell silent.
The other Witcher Masters also wore stiff expressions, and the atmosphere in the council hall immediately grew heavy.
In truth, those nobles and extraordinary forces who dared to frame and harm Witchers had surely thought of this very point—that was precisely why they had dared to act.
This was an open conspiracy—an overt scheme of the Rogrides family.
"Since we can't just kill the clients, and digging to the root would offend a large number of nobles, Danthe, then what do you think we should do? Are we supposed to just let this go?"
Beside Allen, Valerius tugged irritably at his collar and raised his voice as he questioned him.
"Let it go? That's absolutely impossible!" Aristo slammed his palm on the table, eyes wide with fury. "If we do that, the Wolf School's Witchers will just be killed off one by one."
Then he turned to Danthe. "Since you brought this up, you must have thought about it for a long time. Tell us—what should we do?"
Danthe fell silent for a few seconds, shook his head, and sighed. "I don't know either. I've thought about it for a long time, and the more I think about it, the more it feels like a dead end."
"I thought that maybe we should spare those clients and point all our swords at the Rogrides family—even go so far as to wipe them out, to deter those with ulterior motives. But—"
Danthe tilted his head and glanced at the silent Witcher Masters, paused, and continued, "But I know you wouldn't agree. There must be innocent people within the Rogrides family, and the Wolf School's swords have never been turned against humans."
"But if we don't wipe out the Rogrides family, where do we find the true culprit? How do we deter those with ill intent?"
"The head of the Rogrides family, Duke Donato Rogrides, is nearly seventy years old. Even if the Wolf School does nothing, he could die at any time."
"Killing a single old man who already has one foot in the grave—what use would that be?"
"So I don't know. I really don't know—"
Danthe lowered his head.
Aristo and the other Witcher Masters naturally couldn't press him. Danthe wasn't a prisoner.
The idea that whoever raises a problem must also solve it was only an ideal scenario. Being able to raise a perceptive problem at all was already rare enough.
And so the council hall, for what felt like the umpteenth time, fell silent—until a voice suddenly broke the calm.
"Allen, what do you think?"
The Wolf School's Grandmaster Sol, who had been sitting in the seat of honor, silently watching everyone argue, finally spoke.
The Witcher Masters of the Wolf School froze for a moment, then all turned their gazes toward the least conspicuous seat at the end of the long table.
Before this, almost all of them had subconsciously ignored Allen.
Though they didn't want to admit it, they instinctively saw him as a child, rather than as a fellow Witcher Master capable of offering useful advice.
It wasn't that they looked down on him—Allen was simply too young, and hadn't spent long with any of them, even Danthe.
If Vesemir were here, things might have been different. Unfortunately, he wasn't.
Seated at the lower end of the table, Allen didn't mind the others' unconscious neglect. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Master Danthe is right. Killing indiscriminately won't save the Wolf School—it would only make our situation worse. But I also disagree with his idea of sparing those clients and their backers, and targeting only the Rogrides family."
"Then what do you think we should do?" Aristo couldn't help but press.
A cold glint flashed in Allen's eyes as he spoke each word slowly and clearly:
"I think—"
"The Rogrides family, and those nobles and extraordinary forces who serve as their claws—"
"None of them can be spared!"
.....
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