Is Nothing Truly Beyond Our Power?

To the east...

Vesemir looked back in the direction they had come from with a complicated expression.

Wild Hunt is a well-known ominous sign, a harbinger of disaster—especially war.

This legend is known to everyone, both in the north and in Nilfgaard in the south.

Some even worshipped them in the name of the God of War, hoping to avoid the calamities of war.

So... war...

Although Vesemir's view was obscured by the Wooden Hut and the wild forest, he knew that it was both Ard and Kedwen.

There, the shadow of war had already enveloped the land.

Vesemir wasn't even entirely sure.

At this moment, has a bloody and fiery test and friction already begun on the borders of Kedwen?

"Could it be... that the Wild Hunt really exists in this world? Are there really monsters that feed on war?"

Vesemir murmured absently.

If he hadn't witnessed the power of that blue light with his own eyes...

He simply couldn't believe that the Wild Hunt legends used to scare children actually existed.

"Even a monster expert like the Witcher Master doesn't believe the Wild Hunt exists in this world?"

Ernesto gave a wry smile.

However, even though he was denied time and again, he did not get angry, nor did he stubbornly insist on the facts he had witnessed.

It's more like conducting research on a project called Wild Hunt, accepting all external information dialectically, objectively, and with curiosity.

Vesemir then realized the impolite negation in his murmur, smiled apologetically, and said:

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to doubt you... it's just..."

He paused, then explained:

"But since I became a Witcher, decades have passed, and I have never seen the Wild Hunt..."

"Some of the commissions I've accepted in the past that seemed to be related to the Wild Hunt always turned out to be either noble conspiracy plots or the client's delusions..."

"Most of the other witchers in the School of the Wolf, including the chief, are like that too..."

Ernesto nodded in understanding and remarked with emotion:

"Yes, if we hadn't seen it with our own eyes today, who could really believe that the specter of war roaming the skies actually exists?"

"But..."

Ernesto then changed the subject.

"But isn't there a school of thought among the Witchers, founded specifically to defeat the Wild Hunt?"

Vesemir frowned, looked at Ernesto seriously, and said:

"You know a lot."

Ernesto smiled, narrowing his eyes. "After all, I am the master's tutor of the Department of Mysticism at the Oxenfurt Academy..."

Vesemir was somewhat strange.

However, he had a good impression of this kind and not stubborn Professor Niubao.

Moreover, the relevant information is not some kind of secret that cannot be disclosed.

then.

After thinking for a few seconds, he said:

"You're talking about the School of the Viper."

"They are far away in Nilfgaard, and generally only operate in Nilfgaard..."

"But the information you received is correct."

"Grandmaster Iva, the founder of the School of the Viper, has indeed always claimed..."

"His evil eye can constantly see the Wild Hunt's ghost riders plundering, slaughtering, and conquering..."

"But..."

Vesemir paused, then said:

"Grandmaster Iva the Evil Eye was a Witcher created by the Witcher Conclave in its early days."

"We've always believed that his Evil Eye and his understanding of the Wild Hunt were just illusions caused by a mutation..."

"Now it seems that this might not be an illusion, does it?" Ernesto smiled and adjusted his glasses.

Vesemir remained silent.

At this moment.

Ernesto suddenly stepped forward, his voice tinged with fervor:

"Master Vesemir, I have a request..."

Vesemir frowned, looked at him, and said nothing.

He had a vague feeling about it.

Ernesto struck up a conversation with him in order to make his next request.

Ernesto continued:

"I know that Witcher Master are revered by various schools of Witcher, so..."

"Could you please write me a letter of recommendation?"

"After this journey, I plan to visit the School of the Viper's castle in Nilfgaard, hoping to meet Grandmaster Iva the Evil Eye and borrow some of their research on the Wild Hunt..."

"The Wild Hunt has appeared, yet the noble rulers and the common people are completely unaware of it. This is extremely dangerous!"

"Warn them that prevention is the duty of the Oxford scholars..."

Ernesto's tone suddenly turned fervent, which was somewhat unsettling.

However, after thinking for a moment, Vesemir could not find a reason to refuse.

Ernesto is just an ordinary person and poses little threat to the Witcher.

Based on his understanding of the rumors surrounding Iva the Evil Eye.

The School of the Viper Grandmaster, who dedicated his life to finding and eliminating the Wild Hunt Wild Hunt, may never have had someone spread the word about the Wild Hunt's threat.

therefore.

Vesemir nodded and said:

"Can."

At this point, Vesemir had not yet realized that he no longer questioned the existence of the Wild Hunt.

Ernesto was overjoyed to see that Vesemir had agreed:

"Let's hurry up and go. Blackbeard's tavern should have paper and pens, right?"

He looked at the dwarf John Kramer.

"Of course!" The dwarf rolled his eyes, puffed out his beard, and emphasized impatiently, "Human, you can find everything you want in Blackbeard's tavern..."

Seeing Ernesto traveling light and looking so energetic, Vesemir couldn't help but ask:

"Where is your companion? Don't you need to bring anything?"

Ernesto smiled, shook his head, patted his leather satchel, and said:

"No need, that's all I have on me."

"I came with a caravan. I just need to time it right and board the ship tomorrow."

"Alright, let's go." Vesemir nodded.

But they hadn't gone more than a few steps.

He suddenly realized that Ailin hadn't said a word since the beginning, staring at the eastern sky, lost in thought.

"What's wrong, Ailin?" Vesemir asked, tilting his head.

"It's nothing..." The young witcher looked up and glanced subconsciously at the dwarf and Ernesto, shook his head, and asked:

Should we go back to the tavern now?

Seeing that Ailin was unwilling to answer, Vesemir did not ask any further questions. He nodded slightly and walked towards the tavern.

Before we knew it.

The young witcher was left behind.

He listened to the voices of the witchers, the innkeeper, and the professor of occultism still discussing the Wild Hunt's identity, then turned his head to take a deep look at the clear blue sky to the east.

"Heading east..."

" With the Elder Blood yet to appear in the world, what are these Alder Folk heading east for?"

"Is it really because war is about to break out there?"

Ailin shook his head.

He had a strong premonition.

They came for the Gate of Ad Gase and the Conjunction of the Spheres.

Wild Hunt...

We came for him!

Upon discovering that the Wild Hunt had completely departed, the still-shaken crowd gradually appeared on the streets.

The iceberg-like clusters of ice had begun to melt, but the temperature around the tavern was even colder.

Perhaps, as Ernesto said, the Alder Folk, the Ion El, unleash their powerful magic for no particular purpose.

Simply because the trading market is the largest and most conspicuous building.

It is the most conspicuous "ant hole" in the Gors Velen.

therefore.

In ports that were not specifically targeted, the number of casualties was actually not high.

Even due to the nature of the buildings, most of the people staying at this trading market are merchants from other places.

So outside the ice cluster, only a mother and daughter were crying.

The rest of the large group of people were mostly just there to watch the spectacle.

Of course, there were also those with angry faces, loudly cursing because of the property loss.

There were also a few people with suppressed joy on their faces; they were probably the boss or a business partner who had shared the profits, and they had died inside.

Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—the myriad aspects of human life are countless.

As Vesemir chatted with the dwarf and Ernesto, he seemed to be noticed by the young mother who was weeping while clinging to the ice cluster.

She immediately hugged the little girl and ran towards Vesemir.

He shouted as he ran:

"The Witcher! The Witcher!"

then.

Under everyone's gaze, Vesemir had no choice but to stop:

"I am Vesemir of the School of the Wolf. Madam, what can I do for you?"

"Wow--"

The hurried running seemed to have hurt the little girl.

The little girl burst into tears as soon as the beautiful woman stopped.

Helpless, the woman nodded apologetically to the Witcher Master with her swollen eyes, wiped away her tears, patted the girl's back, and comforted her several times.

Once the girl stopped crying, she looked up at Vesemir with her tear-stained eyes:

"Feel sorry..."

"It's alright..." Vesemir shook his head. "Does this lady have a request for me?"

His expression was filled with pity.

He actually guessed what the woman might want to say, and he also knew that he was very likely powerless to change it.

The woman took a deep breath and said with dignified posture:

"Master Vesemir, I've heard of the School of the Wolf. Their witchers are all highly moral and professionally skilled witch hunters..."

"Enough with the flattery, let's get straight to the point!" Vesemir sighed, interrupting.

The woman paused for a moment.

Noticing the Witcher Master's expression, his heart skipped a beat.

But then she thought of her husband's terrified, contorted face inside the ice cluster, her eyes reddening. She took a deep breath, gripped her daughter's soft little hand, and said in a trembling voice:

"Master Vesemir ..."

"My husband, the father of my children, is dead..."

"I'm willing to pay any price, just to kill the monster who killed Jamie and avenge us!"

Before he could finish speaking...

Tears streamed down the woman's face, her teeth clenched.

"Pat-pat~ pat-pat~"

It crashed to the ground.

"Wow--"

When the girl saw her mother crying, she started crying too.

The woman could only wipe her eyes again and lean down to comfort her.

Before bending down, he didn't forget to force an apologetic smile at Vesemir, his posture so humble that he was practically groveling.

However, this can be seen from her stiff expression and elegant posture.

She must be well protected by her family under normal circumstances.

perhaps.

This was the first time she had shown a flattering smile to a stranger.

It's just a pity...

Vesemir sighed inwardly and said with difficulty:

"Excuse me, ma'am."

The woman's face changed drastically. She grabbed Vesemir's leather armor and shouted:

"Five thousand Oren, Master Vesemir, I am willing to pay five thousand Oren."

"It's not about the money." Vesemir sighed again and patiently explained:

"Those... Wild Hunt flew eastward, while our destination is Arland, so our directions are not the same."

"Besides..."

"I've never dealt with Wild Hunt before, and I don't know their habits or weaknesses..."

After a pause, Vesemir shook his head:

"I can't even figure out how to find these flying monsters..."

"So..."

"I'm sorry, there's really nothing I can do."

The woman was filled with despair upon hearing this.

Having received a good education since childhood, she was not the kind of woman who would only argue unreasonably; she could understand that what Vesemir said was true.

Vesemir sighed and shook his head, glanced at Ailin, the dwarf, and Ernesto, then turned and walked toward the tavern.

The crowd that had formed a circle to watch the spectacle quickly moved aside.

However, merchants are a group that frequently encounters witchers and is often saved by them.

So they didn't say anything gossipy.

It's just heartbreaking to see how unpredictable natural disasters can be, and how a family could be destroyed like this.

Just as Vesemir and the others stepped out of the crowd...

"Thump~"

A heavy object fell to the ground.

"Wow--"

Amid the girl's cries, the woman fell to the ground and fainted.

Ten minutes later.

final.

Vesemir still couldn't stand idly by.

To avoid gossip, he had the young Ailin carry the unconscious woman back to the tavern.

As soon as they returned to Blackbeard's Tavern, Mary happened to come out from the back of the hall.

"Ailin!"

Seeing that Ailin was safe and sound, she ran over with a smile in her eyes.

When Vesemir, who was standing in front of Ailin, stepped aside, revealing the woman being carried by the young witcher, Mary immediately frowned and stopped in her tracks.

"Who is she?"

Ailin paused, then said:

"A pitiful person..."

for a long time.

After handing the woman and her child over to Blackbeard's waitress, the group sat down at a table.

They looked at each other.

Even Ernesto, who was usually the most talkative, didn't know what to say at this moment.

When suffering becomes generalized, it is just a series of numbers.

But when it comes to specifics, especially when it comes to a particular person close to you, it becomes especially painful.

"Is there really nothing we can do?"

Mary broke the silence.

After learning what had happened to the woman, Mary felt ashamed of her previous actions.

Although the idea only crossed Mary's mind, the woman was unaware of it.

However, driven by a complex sense of compensation, Mary now especially wants to find a way to help her kill the Wild Hunt that almost killed Ailin.

"Little girl, that's the Wild Hunt. Do you know what the Wild Hunt is?"

The dwarf, unaware of Mary's identity, sat in his chair and glanced at her sideways.

Mary's mouth immediately puffed up with anger.

Vesemir quickly nudged Blackbeard with his elbow and shouted:

"Nonsense!"

"Mary is an apprentice of Lady Vesemir the Crimson Fox, Sorceress of exceptional talent. How could she not know?"

Sorceress are not to be trifled with.

Holding grudges is in their nature.

Mary may seem gentle now, but what about later?

Blackbeard the dwarf was his close friend, and he couldn't afford to offend such a talented Sorceress for no reason.

Blackbeard paused for a moment.

He knew Vesemir meant well, but the dwarf's stubborn nature and his pride prevented him from apologizing.

Fortunately, someone changed the subject at that moment.

"Perhaps..."

"About the Wild Hunt..."

"We are not powerless to do anything..."