Consequences of Spreading Rumors About Witchers

Wild Hunt?

The Witcher paused for a moment, then instinctively looked at Ianna.

Ianna smiled and nodded, indicating that he should tell the truth.

Is this the surprise she was talking about?

He didn't even have to wait until May Festival to visit the Old Duke; instead, the Old Duke came to him personally...

Not knowing why the Old Duke had come to inquire personally, Ailin carefully considered his words before saying:

"I was at Blackbeard's inn in Gors Velen at the time, so I didn't see it with my own eyes..."

The Old Duke frowned.

"But..."

"Afterwards, we interviewed the residents of the Gors Velen and the travelers who were present at the time..."

"Skeleton horse, ghost army, bluish-black flames..."

"Exactly the same as the description in the ancient books..."

"Three or four hundred Skeleton Knight rode out of the void, as if there were an invisible gate in the sky..."

"As they swept past the Gors Velen, one of the Wild Hunt members casually swung his scepter..."

"Blue magical light fell like a meteor, destroying the vast trading market in a single blow..."

The Witcher paused at this point.

"At that time, Master Vesemir and I also noticed something amiss and were about to leave Blackbeard's Inn to investigate..."

"Before I could even get out and see clearly, I was severely injured by the aftershocks of the spell from the other side."

"The destroyed trading market was covered with ice clusters taller than the walls of Arland, and they hadn't completely melted by the time we left the Gors Velen a day later..."

The Old Duke frowned deeply upon hearing Ailin's description.

Before even seeing the Wild Hunt, he was severely injured by the aftershocks of the spell...

If it were three or four days ago, before witnessing Ailin's strength, he might have thought that the young demon hunter was not strong enough, or that he was careless.

But now...

Having experienced that Ghoul attack, not only did the Royal Guard knights have a very high opinion of the young Witcher, but they also kept urging him to come to the temple of Meritellie and have a drink with him after returning that day.

The head of Giant Ghoul, half a person's height, still hangs in the castle's hall; it was a standard large monster.

When the young witcher returned from his hunt, he could see clearly that Ailin truly had not a single scratch on his body.

Moreover.

He had heard of Vesemir's reputation long ago and knew that his strength was only going to increase.

"It seems we need to raise the Wild Hunt's strength assessment considerably..." the Old Duke thought to himself.

After considering the matter in his mind for a moment, he looked up at the Witcher, nodded slightly, and said earnestly:

"Thank you for the information, Witcher."

"This is extremely useful for us in Temeria."

Ailin was taken aback when he heard the thanks.

He saved the lives of everyone on the bus a few days ago, but didn't receive a single word of thanks from the Old Duke.

It's just a few words now...

But before he could respond, the Old Duke turned his head to look at the ever-smiling High Priest:

"Ianna, could you help me find the records about the Wild Hunt in the temple?"

The High Priest smiled, glanced at Ailin, and said:

"We've been looking for it for a while now."

"Hmm?" The Old Duke tilted his head, leaning on his cane.

"Ailin arrived at the temple and immediately asked me to collect the Wild Hunt's documents." The High Priest paused, then added, "Master Vesemir is currently organizing the documents in the library..."

"Why?" The Old Duke was taken aback by the question, then looked at the witcher and asked curiously.

After a few seconds of silence, Ailin recounted the story of Fula Dully, whose husband's life was forever frozen in the trading market.

Then, after a two-second pause, he said softly:

"There are many ordinary people like them who have died at the hands of the Wild Hunt, it's just that most of their relatives are not in the Gors Velen..."

Upon hearing Ailin's words, the Old Duke remained silent for a long time, and the chiseled lines on his face softened considerably.

"Rumors are just rumors after all..."

He suddenly said something out of the blue.

He then offered no further explanation.

After nodding goodbye to Ianna and Ailin, he boarded the carriage and left.

Meanwhile, the young witcher was still pondering, "What does it mean that rumors are just rumors?"

The sound of wheels gradually faded.

Ailin then came to his senses, looked at Ianna, and asked:

"This... this is it?"

"Did Duke Mason just come to inquire about the Wild Hunt that appeared in the Gors Velen?"

What about the Necrophage Oil formula and the May Festival anomaly?

"This is no small matter..." The High Priest smiled and withdrew his gaze from the black carriage. "I received news yesterday that two direct heirs of great noble families and a baron have died in the Gors Velen."

"The noble council of Vizima Palace has been in turmoil these past few days."

"Mason must have received orders from the King to come and inquire about the situation."

"However..." The High Priest paused for a second, looking at the joyful expression on Ailin's face, and then said discouragingly:

"Although three nobles have died, the council of nobles may not necessarily take any targeted action against a legendary monster like the Wild Hunt..."

"Those families that have lost their patriarchs and heirs may not necessarily have..."

The witcher paused, then instinctively asked, "Why?"

The High Priest sighed and said:

"For them, the Wild Hunt is a natural disaster..."

How can humanity take revenge on earthquakes and tsunamis?

The Witcher was somewhat confused. "But didn't you just say this wasn't a small matter?"

"This is indeed no small matter," the High Priest chuckled inexplicably. "Families that have lost their patriarchs want to retain their titles and seats in the council of nobles, while nobles who have lost their heirs must spread their quills like hedgehogs to prevent being coveted by their own kind..."

"As for Mason..."

"The noble rebellion has only ended a few years ago. The king must be wary of whether this is a sign of a new rebellion, or whether the remnants of rebellion are still stirring..."

"As a member of the royal family and the king's younger brother, Mason naturally had to find out the cause and effect."

"And the least important thing of all is avenging the three who died, even if..."

The High Priest paused, then said in a complex tone:

"They were also nobles, someone's son, husband, or father..."

The Witcher fell silent upon hearing this.

But he didn't feel angry at all.

Although he claimed that he was collecting information on the Wild Hunt because of the mother and son who had lost their father and husband, he was actually doing it more for his own benefit.

After all, the Wild Hunt is very likely targeting him.

But Ianna didn't think so.

She saw the Witcher lower his head, looking dejected, and her heart softened.

Suddenly, I felt a pang of regret for exchanging ugly truths and benefits, for laying bare the truth for him to see.

"Isn't it... too early..." she thought. "Ailin has only just left Kaer Morhen, full of passion and eager to fight demons for humanity..."

But then she remembered the "blood and fire" the young witcher had mentioned on his way here, and she couldn't help but sigh.

The Child of Miracle will eventually encounter the ugly side of humanity.

It's always better to be clear about things beforehand than to be suddenly taught a lesson by reality.

The price at that time would not necessarily be just inner pain and discomfort.

but...

"Good boy, this is reality," Ianna gently ruffled the witcher's hair, then changed the subject, "Of course, it's not entirely useless..."

The Witcher looked up.

"At the very least, the Council of Nobles will definitely offer a large reward." Ianna smiled.

Ailin nodded and said nothing more.

He wasn't satisfied with just a large sum of money.

As Ianna said, the nobles did not have the idea of eliminating the Wild Hunt because it was always a natural disaster in legend.

But...

Is Wild Hunt really a natural disaster?

No!

They are just Ion El!

The elves, sharing the same roots as the Ain Siddi, who were relegated to the margins of the world by humans...

The Witcher didn't believe it.

When the nobles realize that it is elves who have violated them, they will really have no reaction at all, just like they do now.

The problem now is...

How can we convey this information to the nobles in the most credible way possible...?

With May Festival approaching, and Ailin having prophesied an "accident" yesterday, the High Priest has many things to rearrange and prepare today.

therefore.

After seeing the Old Duke off, Ailin discussed the Wild Hunt for a while at the temple gate before parting Ianna.

However, the Witcher did not return directly to the icon room. Instead, after asking for directions, he went straight to the temple's library.

Having concocted so many potions yesterday, he needs to find an opponent to test his skills against.

in addition.

So many days have passed.

I wonder if Vesemir found any useful intelligence...

After leaving the Temple of Melitele, the Old Duke's black carriage drove straight into the inner city along the main road.

In the heart of the inner city stands a castle.

Or rather, the very existence of the entire city of Arland is to protect this heavily guarded fortress.

The black carriage drove across the drawbridge and the massive city gate and stopped in the spacious open area inside the castle.

"Squeak~"

The carriage door was opened.

A neatly dressed, impeccably groomed middle-aged man gracefully but nimbly stepped forward to offer his assistance.

However, the solemn-faced Old Duke waved his hand in refusal.

The middle-aged man, who looked like a butler, didn't seem to mind. He stood to the side, bowing slightly as he reported:

"Sir, the amount of urine from the Wyvern you arranged to test yesterday is insufficient in the warehouse."

"However, I asked the Chamber of Commerce this morning, Vizima has some in stock, but it will take three or four days to arrive..."

"Let Agatha make the trip," the Old Duke waved his hand. "I spend 100,000 Oren every year to hire a magic consultant, not to have her spend her days in Arland hosting tea parties for noblewomen."

The middle-aged butler nodded, and then said:

"The rearranged May Festival patrol route is not enough to just have soldiers close to the Guards."

"Moreover, the city guards reported that the number of travelers who came to Arland to participate in the May Festival celebrations these past few days is at least twice as many as last year."

The Old Duke stopped, thought for a moment, and then made the arrangements:

"Arrange for the Monster Hunter Army to join as well..."

"In addition..."

"Have the city guards conduct stricter checks in the next few days, and don't let any suspicious people into the city."

"Yes, sir," the middle-aged butler replied, paused for a second, and then continued:

"Sir, the steward of the Aretuza Civil Cooperative Organization is waiting for your audience in the drawing room..."

"The Aretuza Civil Cooperative Organization?" The Old Duke paused for a moment upon hearing this tongue-twisting name.

The middle-aged butler explained with great insight:

"The Aretuza Civil Cooperative Organization is a merchant guild that sells various magical items created by the Sorceress of Aretuza..."

The Old Duke frowned upon hearing this:

"How?"

"Is Agatha short of money to buy jewelry again?"

"What excuse did you come up with this time?"

"It's not Ms. Agatha," the middle-aged butler shook his head. "She already raised her consulting fees a few days ago under some pretext."

"Since it was within the budget you set for the magic consultant, I didn't report it."

He paused for a moment, then said:

"The person waiting in the reception room said..."

"He was specially teleported here from Aretuza by Lady Vesemir, who said there was a collaboration involving... um... Sword Oil... Necrophage Oil, which you would definitely be interested in..."

"Vesemir ..." the Old Duke raised an eyebrow, "Is she that Bloody Red Fox?"

"Yes, sir," the middle-aged butler replied, "It is that Alchemy Master."

Vesemir, Necrophage Oil...

The Old Duke muttered to himself:

"Ianna didn't lie to me this time; that kid really did learn alchemy from the Bloody Red Fox..."

"And their relationship seems quite close..."

"Master, what did you say?" The middle-aged butler didn't hear clearly, "Should we send that person away?"

"It's nothing," the Old Duke waved his hand, then thought for a few seconds and gave the order:

"Ten thousand Oren, buy as many bottles of Sword Oil as you can sell..."

"And then..." the Old Duke paused:

"I want to cooperate with them long-term, and I want to form a close partnership with them as much as possible."

"Go ask what their demands are, and agree to anything that isn't too unreasonable..."

The middle-aged butler was taken aback upon hearing this, and couldn't help but look up at the expressionless Old Duke.

Should we agree to everything unless it's too outrageous?

Isn't this just letting the other party make demands?

Even your own businesses wouldn't get such "generous" conditions, would they?

The middle-aged butler thought for a moment.

The Bloody Red Fox is famous Northern Continent for its longevity-enhancing potions. Could it be that this is what you're after, sir?

But wasn't the lord always like the High Priest of Meritellie, who revered natural aging and death?

The young duke went to great lengths to buy the longevity potion, but he won't drink it...

"What's wrong?" the Old Duke interrupted his reverie.

"I understand, sir," the middle-aged butler replied quickly, then hesitated for a second before saying, "But Lady Vesemir is skilled in longevity potions, and for her to be bound to someone long-term, the requirements must be very high, so..."

"It's not Vesemir who needs to cooperate!" the Old Duke said.

"Ah?"

"The person you're collaborating with is the creator of the Sword Oil formula. Just tell him that, and he'll understand," the Old Duke impatiently, waving his hand.

The Alchemy Master, Bloody Red Fox, had specially teleported him from Aretuza, but the things he was selling weren't even the formula Vesemir had created... The middle-aged butler was somewhat bewildered.

But he didn't show it; after nodding respectfully, he headed towards the reception room.

"Etc!"

The Old Duke called out to him.

"After finalizing the cooperation with Lady Vesemir's butler, go and investigate who these people are who have been spreading rumors about witchers in Arland recently..."

"Then..." the Old Duke paused to think for a moment, and said:

"Send men to drive them all out, and forbid them from ever setting foot in Arland again!"