The Witcher's Scent

Mountain Stone Rock Troll the size of a small mountain...

Is its blood more potent?

For example, a single drop of blood from Mountain Stone is equivalent to two, three, or even more drops of blood from an ordinary Rock Troll.

The Witcher pondered.

It's natural to have this thought, after all, the Mountain Stone is oversized. If it didn't have something special, could it have grown so big?

However, the next second, looking at the Rock Troll corpses of varying sizes around him, Ailin rejected the idea in his mind.

"If the blood requirement for the 'Summon I' quest really changes because of the size of the Rock Troll, and the Big Stone and the Little Stone troll are twice the size, how could it only increase the quest progress by one step?"

Of course, Ailin wouldn't give up collecting the blood from the Mountain Stone; after all, it's a quest objective.

"Hiss~"

Once most of the magic power was restored, the adverse reactions caused by the body turning into mist also disappeared.

Ailin took a deep breath and once again channeled his magic into the "Foglet Arm Bone".

"Bang!"

With a barely perceptible soft sound, the Witcher transformed into a wisp of mist, drifting to a crater five meters away where he reverted to his original form.

"Ding! Absorb the blood of the Rock Troll?"

Without hesitation, I selected the box.

[Ding! Quest: Summon I (Collect 18/20 Rock Troll Blood)]

Um?

18?

Ailin paused for a moment, then mentally summoned the Witcher's Handbook, confirming the system notifications two or three times.

A single drop of the Mountain Stone's blood is equivalent to the blood of eight ordinary Rock Troll!

Why are the Mountain Stone so special?

Ailin was puzzled for a moment, then suppressed his curiosity and put aside the question that he could not answer for the time being.

He is currently on the battlefield between humans and monsters, which is not a good place to think about problems.

However, we're still missing two drops of Rock Troll blood...

Ailin glanced around.

The fact that the Mountain Stone was injured gave him an idea. There were traces of blood even under the Mountain Stone's dwelling, so there was no reason why other Rock Troll, who were weaker, wouldn't have any.

really.

I gazed intently at the past, following my memories.

Other places where Rock Troll once lived also have similar blood pools or black spots.

So, Ailin threw herself back into the process of misting, collecting, restoring magic power, misting, collecting, restoring magic power...

In five minutes, he collected four more drops of the Rock Troll's blood.

However, instead of immediately handing in the Witcher's Handbook and completing the mission, he stored the few drops of blood in an empty potion bottle.

Ailin still remembers the trouble caused by the sudden Conjunction of the Spheres when he completed his first hunting mission.

If it weren't for the mirage pearl, he would have almost died from the Drowners King's Ice Lance Spell.

At this point, completing the "Summon I" quest is meaningless to him, regardless of what kind of monsters are sent by the Conjunction of the Spheres.

Save these few drops of blood, find the right opportunity to complete the mission, and release the Conjunction of the Spheres; perhaps there will be unexpected results.

Thinking about it that way...

Ailin suddenly realized that his most powerful ability was not a sign, not swordsmanship, and not even [Demon Hunter], but the Conjunction of the Spheres that could randomly summon powerful monsters.

"Alright, we've collected all the Rock Troll blood we could."

Ailin glanced at the tower shield that was slowly retreating into the cave, and then at the enraged Rock Troll, before preparing to return to meet up with Francesca.

Although the blood of eight Rock Troll has not yet been collected.

However, their territory was either too close to the battlefield or too flat, offering no cover whatsoever.

There's no need for Ailin, who can complete the "Summon I" mission at any time, to take this risk.

"Bang!"

Magic surged in, and a thin mist appeared.

The next time Ailin reappeared, it was already in the shadows of a dark cave.

Francesca stared in astonishment as the mist coalesced into a human shape, and couldn't help but ask:

"Ai... Ailin, this ability to turn into mist is..."

"It's just a little trick we witchers use. As you can see, we turn into mist to hide, that's all."

Is that all?

Francesca found it somewhat difficult to understand.

Ailin's many actions gradually shattered her preconceived notions about the Witcher race.

An age far beyond his capabilities, knowledge to discern profound illusions, strange potions that alter appearance and grant night vision, and a constant stream of tricks used by witchers...

Even when it comes to stealth, the Witcher has two completely different methods.

Francesca is now somewhat confused about how much of the records in the Ion Siddi family are valid.

"Fortunately, these witchers did not join King Kedwen's side, otherwise, with such a variety of methods, the Ion Siddi family would really be in trouble."

Thinking of this, Francesca's eyebrows relaxed slightly.

She looked at Ailin, who was standing still and seemed to be lost in thought, and an idea suddenly popped into her mind.

"Perhaps I can help the Free Elves win over these witchers?"

Ailin was still unaware of this at the time.

Before he could figure out how to win over the elves as allies, the future Elf Queen already had the idea of winning over the Witcher.

It quietly emerged from the weakness that followed the atomization.

After glancing at the tower shields that were almost completely withdrawn, he got up and walked towards the direction of the illusion.

"Let's go, Francesca. We've investigated the situation on both sides. Let's go back and find our target."

"What did you discover?" Francesca asked curiously.

"Kedwen's army suffered heavy losses, and many of the Rock Troll also perished..."

Isn't this something you can understand just by looking at it?

Francesca thought to herself, "This is far too perfunctory."

As Ailin led the way back along the same route, he continued:

"And... in the near future, these king's soldiers will surely suffer another great loss."

Francesca paused for a moment.

She turned her head and glanced at the Rock Troll, who, despite making a big commotion, was clearly at a disadvantage, and asked curiously:

How did you come to this conclusion?

Ailin glanced back at Francesca, smiled mysteriously, and said:

"It's just a trick of the Witcher, not worth mentioning."

Another trick by the Witcher?

Francesca froze for a moment.

However, knowing she wouldn't get any answers, she simply followed Ailin while shifting the conversation to topics that interested her.

"Ailin, you said you're a Witcher from the School of the Wolf?"

Ailin paused for a moment, unsure what Francesca wanted to say, then took out the Wolf Emblem hidden inside her leather armor and nodded:

"Yes, I am a Witcher from the School of the Wolf, from Kaer Morhen in the northern Blue Mountains."

"If I remember correctly, among the six schools of witchers, the School of the Wolf's principle is to maintain neutrality..."

Francesca paused, seemingly choosing her words carefully:

"But you now..."

"But why should I accept a commission from the elves—a force that is clearly hostile to the human kingdom of Kedwen?"

Ailin paused for a few seconds, then continued walking without looking back.

"Hmm~"

Francesca nodded, a nasal sound escaping cautiously from behind her black mask.

The next moment.

Silence descended.

"Da~Da~Da~"

The sound of the elves' footsteps echoed in the dark, lightless passage.

At that moment, Francesca suddenly realized that the Witcher walked without making a sound.

And this was while walking normally, without slowing down at all.

Only one person's footsteps echoed in the passageway.

As we walked...

In a daze, she felt as if she were walking alone in the dark.

A strange sense of fear arose spontaneously.

When did Ailin's footsteps stop?

"Didn't he make a sound when he walked three days ago?"

She wanted to go up and pat the witcher on the shoulder, but she was afraid that when the witcher turned around, she would see the twisted and hideous face of the demon.

"I wish I hadn't asked that question."

Francesca suddenly regretted asking that question.

At this moment.

"Wolf..."

"Tap~ Tap~"

The sound of hurried footsteps interrupted Ailin.

He turned his head, glanced at Francesca who had suddenly taken two steps back, shook his head strangely, and continued:

"The School of the Wolf still hopes to maintain neutrality, but someone has forced us to join a war we didn't want to join..."

"So we have no choice but to resist..."

Francesca, her face flushed beneath the black mask, quickened her pace to catch up with Ailin.

"After all..."

After a pause of one second, Ailin stopped, turned around and stared into Francesca's deep blue eyes, which seemed to be avoiding his gaze for some reason:

"When you want to kill someone, you can't expect that person not to fight back to the death..."

After careful consideration, Ailin did not choose to hide it.

Even though the Elven race has been in decline for a long time, it still has at least several hundred thousand people.

Due to the elves' superior physical attributes and the learning advantages of Long-lived race, at least 10,000 of these 100,000 people are capable of fighting.

The School of the Wolf only has forty or fifty people compared to that.

Moreover, the crisis of Kaer Morhen's destruction is not far off, and they need to first demonstrate goodwill in forming an alliance.

but.

Ailin had serious doubts about how much influence the future Elf Queen, the current runaway princess, the young Francesca, actually had within the Elf race.

So this was just an attempt and a gesture of goodwill.

His primary target at present is still that Red-haired Elf —the elven sage Ida Emin.

She had made a promise.

If Ailin can find a human couple and send them out of Kedwen.

Ailin will then get what he wants most.

Although the riddler Ida's description was vague, Ailin guessed that the thing was probably support from the elves.

"When you want to kill someone, you can't expect that person not to resist..."

Francesca savored the Witcher's words, her eyes growing brighter and her gaze toward Ailin becoming increasingly affectionate.

He could naturally understand the implied meaning in the sentences.

only...

"How stupid must King Kedwen have been to put the School of the Wolf on the opposite side?"

Francesca chuckled inwardly, looked up at the witcher's retreating figure, and was about to say a few words to recruit her people.

At this moment.

Ailin suddenly slowed down.

A dazzling white light shone from the end of the passage ahead.

The illusion— the Hundred Fruit Garden— has arrived.

"... Humans... escape... Trolls... victory..."

The tower shield disappeared at the cave entrance, and a silly cheer echoed throughout the cave.

Rock Troll are intelligent, but their intelligence is basically at the level of a five- or six-year-old human child.

They don't understand what a war of attrition is, or what it means to retreat in order to advance.

All they knew was that they had once again driven away the evil, insect-like, disgusting humans.

"... Troll... Victory... Eat meat..."

Several of them started dancing and gesturing wildly right there at the cave entrance, some even curling up into balls and rolling around on the ground.

Of course, not all trolls are like that.

"... Waaah... little pebble... waaah... little iron pot... waaah... little gem... waaah... I don't eat meat..."

The wailing of a troll silenced the cheering trolls.

Several Rock Troll can no longer eat meat, which makes all the meat-loving Rock Troll feel incredibly sad.

This scenario has been repeated many times over the past three days.

For simple people, both joy and sorrow are fleeting.

The same applies to simple Rock Troll.

However, the Rock Troll ' happiness will be even shorter this time, because...

"... There's no more meat..."

A deep, resonant sound came from the Mountain Stone.

The food prepared before hibernation was eaten up a day ago due to the continuous and intense battles after waking up.

For the past two days, they've been eating the Mountain Stone's own rations. However, with so much meat being shared among so many Rock Troll, even with their frugal approach, they haven't been able to sustain themselves for more than a few meals.

The Rock Troll were awakened from their slumber too early; their food had not yet arrived as expected.

"...No more meat... Trolls... Victory... No more meat..." The other Rock Troll were all dejected.

"Boom!"

Mountain Stone plopped down on the ground.

All the food was given to the little trolls; the Mountain Stone hadn't eaten all day.

The continuous intense battles had left him exhausted, and now he could barely support his own weight.

After sitting down on the ground, Mountain Stone's mind went blank.

But vaguely.

Rotten, sour, and fishy...

He seemed to smell food, the most delicious kind at that.

The other Rock Troll were very anxious when they saw the Mountain Stone suddenly sit down.

"... There's no meat left... The Mountain Stone... have collapsed..."

"... Victory... No more meat... The Mountain Stone... have collapsed..."

"...Waaah...pebbles...waaah...little iron pot...waaah...little gems...waaah... Mountain Stone ...waaah... Mountain Stone ..."

The cave chamber suddenly became noisy and chaotic.

until...

"... No more meat... Eat meat... Humans... enemies... Eat meat..."

Suddenly, one of the Rock Troll roared.

The Rock Troll on the scene couldn't help but look down at the ground upon hearing the roar.

"... No more meat... fire... dead humans... no more meat..."

Yes, most of the human corpses on the ground were burned to charcoal and powder.

The cave was noisy again until the Mountain Stone slowly stood up.

"Boom~ Boom~ Boom~"

The footsteps were huge but sounded weak, accompanied by the tremors of the ground.

Under the watchful Little Eye of the Rock Troll, the massive body of the Mountain Stone suddenly paused for a moment as it approached the Rock Troll's corpse.

He bent down and suddenly grabbed a large handful of dark green chunks of meat.

The movement of the Mountain Stone caused cave winds, blowing the stench of rotting flesh toward the noses of every Rock Troll.

"Gurgle~"

The sound of swallowing saliva rang out almost simultaneously.

However, what puzzled the troll was that after the Mountain Stone grabbed the rotten flesh, it did not put it directly into its mouth.

"Hiss~"

It moved closer to the rotting flesh and took a deep breath.

"... This is the smell of a Witcher!"