"Sol, I think… I'm a little jealous of you—"
As Erland's words fell, several Wolf School witcher masters froze and turned to look at Sol.
Sol himself was momentarily stunned, then looked toward Allen.
Erland's remark could, on the surface, be understood as regret that the Griffin School didn't have a witcher like Allen. But coming from the mouth of the Griffin School's grandmaster, it carried a different implication—almost as if he were dissatisfied with his own witchers.
Everyone knew that Erland of Larvik was not that kind of person. Which meant the true meaning of his words was obvious: Erland was envious of Sol—envious that Sol had a child, and one as outstanding as Allen.
And that raised a problem.
Not to mention Valerius and Gregor—even Vesemir had only learned a few months ago that Sol and Vera were Allen's biological parents.
So where had Erland heard this secret?
The Wolf School witcher masters thought for a moment, then turned their gazes toward Jerome Moreau, who had once stayed at Kaer Morhen for a long time.
Erland of Larvik also sensed that something was off. As he looked at Jerome Moreau, he immediately realized that Allen's identity among the witcher masters did not seem to be a semi-public secret agreed upon by the parties involved and the Wolf School.
"Please don't blame Master Jerome," Allen shook his head in advance. "Before he left the Circle of Mayena Druid, he asked for my permission. I was the one who agreed that he didn't need to hide it."
He wasn't covering for Jerome Moreau. After the revelry at the Circle of Mayena Druid ended, when Jerome Moreau came to bid him farewell before returning to Kaer Seren, he had indeed sought Allen out personally, promising not to reveal his identity or what he had done at Ban Ard.
It was Allen who refused.
Not only did Allen reject the idea of secrecy, he even told Jerome Moreau to report everything to Erland in full—the severe injury Sol suffered, the second mutation, the rescue of Hen Gedymdeith, and Allen being gravely wounded by the Wild Hunt.
Why do this?
Did Allen not understand that ignorance of his own origins—and the suspicions surrounding the Child of Surprise that would follow—could spark unpredictable and far-reaching consequences once spread?
Of course he did.
And this wasn't something he had blurted out drunkenly in the heat of celebration.
It was a decision made after meticulous consideration.
Put simply—
When the secret was limited to himself, Sol, Vera, and Ianna, it was still a secret.
But once all the Wolf School witcher masters knew—once Ida Emean and the Hill Folk knew—
Then it was no longer a secret.
Moreover, by then he, Sol, Vesemir, Danthe, and Aristo had already agreed that in winter, when all witchers returned to the mountains, Allen would inherit Sol's position as Grandmaster of the Wolf School.
Bloodline was a legitimate basis for succession.
Unlike Allen's previous life, in this era blood inheritance would not intensify witcher resentment or accelerate the collapse of the school.
Combined with his strength, his contributions to the school, and the reputation he had built across the Northern Continent, it would instead help smooth over disputes.
This was the measure that Sol, Vera, and Allen had jointly decided upon to minimize turmoil during the leadership transition.
And once most Wolf School witchers knew of Allen's background, the rest would inevitably find out as well.
When all witchers knew, it would only be a matter of time before the truth spread across the entire Northern Continent.
Besides, although the succession of a grandmaster did not require recognition from other witcher schools, it was impossible for the other schools' grandmasters to be the last to know.
In fact, Allen had also instructed Jerome Moreau to inform the Griffin School witcher masters of everything that happened in Drakenborg, and to warn them to be wary of the Rogridis family.
Judging from the Griffin School's earlier reactions, however, it was unclear whether Jerome Moreau had forgotten—or whether time had simply been too tight, and matters like a witcher and a sorceress having a witcher child, or a second mutation, were too bizarre and important to cover in one go.
Allen suspected it was probably a bit of both.
After all, only a little over two months had passed since Jerome Moreau left.
In that time, he had to travel from the southernmost reaches of Temeria to the far north of the Northern Continent, to the Kingdom of Kovir and Poviss.
Upon returning, he not only had to help the Griffin School digest the shocking news that a witcher long recorded as dead had returned from the grave, but also persuade them to investigate the culprit behind the avalanche that destroyed their school.
Demonstrate the power of a second mutation—
And the Griffin School still had to organize manpower to participate in the Dol Dhu Lokke Expedition—
Those two months also included the time needed for the Griffin School to travel from Kovir and Poviss to Maribor.
Even assuming Jerome Moreau took the sea route back to Poviss with its excellent harbors—and that Kaer Seren itself lay along the coast—there could not have been much spare time.
So it wasn't strange that something might have been omitted.
Returning to the reason for revealing his background to the Griffin School—
Allen had another motive: he still harbored ambitions of rallying other witcher schools and rebuilding the Witcher Order.
And among all schools, the Griffin School—whose philosophy aligned most closely with the Wolf School—was by far the easiest to draw in.
A shared secret, one that would eventually become public anyway, might not be enough to directly win over an entire school, but it would at least raise the goodwill of the Griffin School witcher masters—especially Grandmaster Erland.
No matter how you calculated it, it was a profitable move.
But more importantly—
Allen himself had changed.
He was no longer the trembling witcher apprentice of a year ago, who feared exposure and being torn apart by others.
He dared to openly challenge the authority of the King of Redania—how could he fear arrows shot from the shadows?
Besides, the identity of the Child of Surprise was sensitive, yes—but it wasn't something so heinous that it would provoke universal condemnation.
The prophecies spoke only of an age of chaos—"the Time of the Sword and the Axe," "the Epoch of the White Frost and the Howling Wolf"—with the birth of the Child of Surprise as its sign.
As for the later words—"death and rebirth, blood and fire brought by one who is not human"—they could be interpreted as the Child of Surprise bringing war after death and rebirth, or just as easily as wars brought by elves, dwarves, and other nonhumans.
It all depended on who controlled the narrative.
And speaking of narrative—
By next spring, he would become the Holy Child of the Melitele Faith, the largest religion on the Northern Continent. What was there to fear in terms of public opinion?
Not to mention that the goddess herself had clearly indicated that Ymir Isaac, High Priest of the second-largest religion—the Cult of Kreve—would agree to all of his requests.
These two religions covered nearly every stratum of society across the Northern Continent.
With their endorsement, his own overwhelming strength—nearly at the pinnacle of the supernatural—and even a Witcher Corps now capable of standing on its own—
What was there to fear from the label "Child of Surprise"?
And sure enough—
After Allen finished speaking, the Griffin School witcher masters exchanged astonished glances, their gazes toward him growing visibly warmer.
If the Witcher's Journal could display favorability, then above the heads of the Griffin School masters, a string of "+1, +1" notifications would surely have popped up—
And at the very least, they would have started rising from an already friendly baseline.
"The Griffin School will not betray this trust. We will guard this secret," Erland said, withdrawing his kindly smile and speaking with solemn seriousness.
The other Griffin School witcher masters rose as well, echoing his words and swearing their oaths.
"There's no need to be so serious—it's not that big a deal," Allen quickly stood and urged them to sit back down.
After a round of mutual humility and praise, the Griffin School witcher masters finally took their seats again.
With a shared secret—or rather, with the Wolf School masters' reactions confirming the weight of that secret—the atmosphere around the long table immediately changed.
If before it had been friendly yet unfamiliar, united by shared origins and ideals, now it gradually warmed into something closer to a sense of being on the same side.
This was a good start, Allen thought, feeling a surge of excitement as he continued talking with the Griffin School masters.
Just then—
Knock knock knock~
A sudden knock sounded from outside the door.
The conversation ended at once. Sitting at the far end of the table, Allen naturally stood and went to open the door.
Letho entered with ten young witchers from the Witcher Corps, carrying several heavy crates.
Welcoming the Griffin School did not require every Wolf School witcher to rush over.
Nor could it be arranged that way.
Otherwise, fifteen witchers standing together would look less like a welcome—and more like a provocation.
So Letho had been sent with the younger witchers to report to the Sorcerers' Brotherhood and retrieve the supplies.
Several Griffin School masters recognized Letho and were about to greet him—but when Hughes, Bond, and the others carried the crates inside, and a few youthful faces peeked out from behind the boxes, their expressions froze.
Why were there so many Wolf School witchers on the Dol Dhu Lokke Expedition—and why were they so young?
"Mm, just put the crates there, yes, right there," Allen directed the young witchers. Seeing their curious heads peeking over the boxes as they looked toward the long table, he took the initiative to introduce them. "These are all friends from the Griffin School—and our future comrades-in-arms."
"Allen… are they all Wolf School witchers?" asked Keldar, a Griffin School witcher master, unable to help himself.
What kind of question was that?
The young witchers looked at one another.
Didn't they look like Wolf School witchers?
The ferocious wolf-head medallions were still hanging on their chests!
"That's not what I meant," Keldar realized his wording was off and quickly corrected himself. "I mean—are they all Wolf School witchers participating in the expedition?"
"How could that be?!" Before the Wolf School witchers could answer, Lucien—the bald Griffin School master beside Keldar—patted him on the shoulder and shook his head.
"They must be here to help the Wolf School supervise the Sorcerers' Brotherhood's logistics, right?"
"Ah!"
Lucien slapped his thigh in frustration.
"We should've brought people too! The Brotherhood's mages are getting less and less reliable—without supervision, they might really try to pass off inferior supplies!"
"Was this Allen's idea too? That's incredibly thorough!"
Allen froze for a moment, then nodded reflexively. "Uh… I did arrange for them to come with us, but not to supervise logistics."
"They're here to participate in the Dol Dhu Lokke Expedition."
…Participate in the expedition?!
The Griffin School witcher masters stared in astonishment at the children who were about Allen's age—many of them even looking younger than him—their shock impossible to hide.
Allen was one thing.
Although he was only fourteen, they had all heard of the reputation he had built across the Northern Continent.
Whether or not that reputation was exaggerated was beside the point.
His participation in the defense of the May Festival in Ellander was unquestionably real, as was the fact that he had personally faced an impending evil god.
That alone was enough for the Griffin School witcher masters to stop judging him by his age and treat him as a full-fledged witcher.
Not to mention that he had dared to offend Redania's "bald one," Radovid—
But these young witchers who looked roughly the same age as Allen… could every single one of them really be a once-in-a-century prodigy like him?
Of course not!
Looking back over the entire history of witchers, someone like Allen—forget ten—there hadn't even been one!
And Dol Dhu Lokke was known as the Valley of Thousand Monsters, the most dangerous forbidden land on the Northern Continent. It wasn't some shallow riverbank infested with drowners!
Even for witcher masters like themselves, entering that place required extreme caution.
One small mistake could mean death. For young witchers who had only just passed the Trial, entering Dol Dhu Lokke would be nothing short of certain death.
The long table immediately fell into a strange silence.
At that moment, the Griffin School witcher masters glanced at Allen, then at Sol, clearly wanting to speak but holding back.
Who the Wolf School chose to send—or not send—on the Dol Dhu Lokke Expedition was an internal matter of the Wolf School. Even if they brought along apprentices who hadn't yet passed the Trial, it technically had nothing to do with the Griffin School—not a single orens' worth.
But the sense of justice ingrained in the Griffin School witchers wouldn't allow them to imagine the fate awaiting these young witchers in Dol Dhu Lokke and remain silent—
And that left them in a difficult position.
As for the heart of the issue, the young Wolf School witchers themselves were still curiously sizing up Erland of Larvik, the legendary grandmaster of the Griffin School.
When they noticed that something felt off, they glanced around uncertainly, their eyes filled with an innocent, guileless clarity—only deepening the Griffin School masters' worry.
"Sol," Erland of Larvik finally couldn't help but speak, "I have a request—or rather, a commission—"
"For the Dol Dhu Lokke Expedition, the Griffin School can only dispatch five witchers due to the Rogridis family's treachery. We have no surplus strength to handle other matters—"
"We would like to borrow a group of people from the Wolf School to rescue the Griffin School witchers who were ambushed. Would that be possible?"
Brilliant.
Keldar, Lucien, and Daniel—the three Griffin School witcher masters—silently praised Erland's quick thinking.
Although rescuing witchers wouldn't be entirely safe for these Wolf School youths either, it was still far more survivable than recklessly throwing them into the Dol Dhu Lokke Expedition!
But what they didn't expect was that Sol, the Wolf School's grandmaster, didn't take the offered step at all. Instead, he shook his head.
"Hughes and the others are Allen's people," Sol said. "You shouldn't be asking me."
Erland, Keldar, Lucien, and Daniel all froze at his words.
What did he mean—Allen's people, shouldn't ask me?
You're the grandmaster of the Wolf School!
Aren't they Wolf School witchers?!
..........