Encountering a Sorcerer

The sun is setting.

The clouds in the sky started to burn.

Bathed in golden light, the old mill seemed even more ancient, and the waterwheel turned slowly.

"Splash~ Splash~"

The once calm river water was now rippling, its surface shimmering with light.

"Phew~"

The rhythmic breathing, subtly audible amidst the clear sound of flowing water, only served to enhance the tranquility of the entire mill.

Following the sound of breathing, we bypassed the waterwheel and arrived at the barn.

On the golden straw, nine witchers clad in leather armor stood with their hands flat on their thighs, eyes closed in meditation.

Suddenly at a certain moment.

The regular breathing suddenly became disordered.

Two pairs of eyes snapped open, and after exchanging a glance, they didn't get up but instead carefully observed the other seven witchers.

Then, as if by prior arrangement.

Amid the tranquil sound of flowing water, the Witchers awoke one after another, then fell silent under the gazes of Ailin and Vesemir, gleefully observing those who remained asleep.

Until the last person woke up in a daze.

The moment I opened my eyes, I was met with a barrage of teasing gazes. I immediately shuddered, looked around, and gave a wry smile.

"It's me again?"

Everyone burst into laughter.

"Take it easy, Aias, at least you got some more rest than us." Kray patted him on the shoulder.

"Alright, everyone pack up and get ready to go," Vesemir said. "Aias is in charge of cleaning up the bloodstains and corpses left by the water ghosts..."

The last young witcher to wake up could only weakly respond, frowning as he threw the increasingly foul-smelling flesh into the river one by one.

This is a small game for practicing meditation.

Just like when Ailin, Huus, Bont, and Fred came down the mountain, the Witcher who didn't wake up on time had to pay for his own meals.

However, in order to conceal their whereabouts, the group could no longer act as openly as before, accepting commissions while traveling.

So apart from Ailin and Vesemir, the other witchers were all broke, and the original reward and punishment rules were no longer applicable.

then.

After discussing it, Vesemir and Ailin decided that the last witcher to wake up from meditation would clean up the traces left by the group.

Of course, it's just a simple process.

For example, dumping corpses in rivers can prevent wounds on monster corpses, especially those caused by spells, from being discovered...

That's enough.

after all.

What a coincidence that we happened to run into people in such a dangerous, desolate place, and that these people not only recognized the traces left by the Witcher, but also happened to be enemies with them.

The probability is too low.

"Da da da~"

The sound of horses' hooves echoed across the empty brick and stone ground.

The young witcher led the horse, watching with amusement as Aias struggled to clean the stinking corpse of the water ghost, occasionally cracking a joke.

"Thump~"

"Thump~"

The last remaining, scattered body of the water ghost was thrown into the river.

"Kray ..." Aias mounted his horse, "You killed the water ghost in the most dismembered way...arms, head, intestines, legs and feet...I'm covered in the stench of the water ghost, next time you can't cut less..."

"I don't need to clean it up, why should I listen to you?" Kray laughed and made a face.

"Hahaha~" Everyone burst into laughter.

"You—" Aias was furious.

"Alright," Vesemir stepped in to smooth things over, "Aias, next time you meditate, pay attention to the changes in your internal environment. Kray, too, try to hunt monsters in the wild and avoid wounds that are too large or cause excessive bleeding..."

"Those groups of water ghosts that afternoon all came because they smelled blood..."

Aias and Kray could only shrink back and agree.

"Yes, Master Vesemir."

"I understand, Master Vesemir."

The Witcher Master nodded in satisfaction and then looked up at the sky.

The sun was setting below the horizon, and the sky was darkening.

After withdrawing his gaze, Vesemir glanced at Ailin, who nodded slightly, and said:

"It's almost time."

"Hide the silver sword, put on the hood... Let's go!"

On the other side.

Because the hunter who was most familiar with the village's surroundings had been killed in his home the night before, and the workers at Banla Mill were either dead or had fled, with no one knowing where the others had hidden, the village chief had to run to a neighboring village to find someone familiar with the route.

The group from Ban Ade didn't officially set off for Banla Mill until near dusk.

This made even the usually mild-mannered and humble Senne a little irritated.

certainly.

The deeper reason that irritated him was not the procrastination of those lower-class people, or rather, that was only a small part of the reason.

Ever since the overconfident Jens secretly caused the Conjunction of the Spheres, which led to the death of the king.

Their Radical Faction seems to have been on a downward spiral.

The previously tacit understanding between Hen Gedimidis and the Academy has been significantly strained by the upheaval and destruction caused by the Conjunction of the Spheres and the death of the King.

The damage and constraints this rift has now inflicted on them are immeasurable.

More than half of the male wizards recruited in the New King's War are from the Radical Faction; ongoing research funding has been cut; some research has been restricted from being open to the public; and now even travel is restricted...

Today's Radical Faction are like griffins locked in a cage and tethered.

Their movements and maneuvers are completely unrestricted.

The only thing that brought him some comfort was that the king's power had been weakened by the death of the old king, and the wizarding kingdom that belonged to their Radical Faction dreams seemed closer to reality than ever before.

But even this much.

The hypocrisy of the benevolent nobles and the unusual activity of the School of the Wolf cast a shadow over the bright future that was bound to come.

"Master..."

The obsequious tone of a lower classman interrupted Senne's thoughts.

"Just past a small grove of trees is..."

He stopped abruptly before he could finish a complete sentence.

A commotion arose at the front of the column, where the elite guards, specially selected when leaving the city, formed a vigilant formation.

Senne looked in the direction of the sound.

In the hazy glow of the setting sun, nine knights galloped out from the dense woods.

Upon closer inspection, they were all dressed in leather armor, wearing black hoods, and carrying long swords at their waists.

The knights emerged from the woods, seemingly surprised to encounter this group, and cautiously pulled on their reins.

"Hercules~"

A dark, golden light shone down, and the horses neighed loudly.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The clang of metal rang out, and a longsword was drawn.

The two teams stopped less than thirty meters apart.

Who are you?

The guards at the head of the group shouted alertly and all drew their longswords.

The five mages, including Senne, also skillfully and subtly activated their magical accessories in an instant, adding various protections and enhancements to themselves.

Magical glows of various colors flashed rapidly under the dark sky as if they were free.

They couldn't help but be cautious.

Since they were only going out of the city to deal with the water ghosts ravaging the area near Ban Ade, each of them only brought one mage guard.

Every year, the academy regularly clears out powerful monster lairs, either for the sake of materials or for the safety of the surrounding workshops and farms.

Even with the current rampage of water ghosts, given their speed and intelligence, these guards are more than capable of handling them.

But the armed groups that suddenly appeared on the other side were a different story.

Within thirty meters, a warhorse charged.

These mages might not even have time to cast a single spell before their defenses are breached and enemy swords pierce their hearts.

The tense atmosphere was like gunpowder near a ignition point, ready to explode at any moment.

They stood facing off for several seconds.

"My lord mages, we are a mercenary group from the Henfors Alliance. We heard that the war Kedwen and Ard is raging, and that His Majesty King Rado has offered a large reward, so we have led our team to provide support," said the leader, whose voice was slightly hoarse.

"Why are you wearing a hood and not showing your true face?" the guard asked sternly again.

Five fully armed knights, clad in full armor, spurred their horses forward a few steps after hearing the question, "Mercenaries."

The hoarse voice hesitated for a moment, and there was no immediate reply. The group of mercenaries behind him did not remove their hoods.

The atmosphere became tense again.

"Alright, Ellette," Senne suddenly spoke up, "Since they are warriors who came for the front lines, there's no need to be too critical."

"Yes, Lord Senne," the guard at the front of the group replied, tilting his head.

However, he did not urge his horse to move backward; instead, his eyes remained fixed on the people opposite him.

"I know that the Henfors Alliance's mercenaries are powerful and disciplined. What mercenary group are you?" Senne asked gently.

"Mage... Mage, the Wolfheart Mercenary Group." The hoarse voice sounded strange for some reason, yet also inexplicably familiar.

However, it seems to be just an ordinary mercenary group profiting from the war.

Senne didn't think much of it.

"We are outnumbered, so let the warriors who will fight for Kedwen go first." Senne said gently, pulling on the reins and heading towards the higher ground on the right.

The other mages and guards also moved upon hearing the order.

However, his gaze remained fixed on the group of mercenaries.

"Thank you, esteemed mages," came the hoarse yet strangely familiar voice.

Immediately following.

"Da da da~"

The sound of horses' hooves rang out.

The nine-member mercenary group slowly made their way across the narrow road.

Although they were all wearing hoods, Senne's keen senses allowed him to feel the scrutinizing and wary gazes directed at them.

The two teams are getting closer and closer.

Apart from the two leaders, the rest of the mercenary group on the other side were all very tense and stiff.

"Two veterans leading seven new recruits..." Senne's lips curled up. "This mercenary group's team composition is quite interesting."

"Is he wearing a hood to hide his age?"

Intrigued, the male wizard, who hadn't seen a mercenary group for many years, carefully observed the opposing team, pondering their moves.

He wanted to see what the differences were between today's mercenaries and those of decades ago, aside from the hoods and team composition.

He did indeed discover something strange during this observation.

As the mercenaries approached on horseback, features that were previously indistinct against the backdrop of distant trees in the dim light became clear.

I don't know why.

Apart from the two mercenaries at the head, who seemed relatively relaxed and didn't make any unusual movements.

The remaining men had their left hands resting on the hilts of their sheathed swords, while their right hands, instead of holding the reins, were slightly suspended in mid-air.

"What kind of alert posture is this?"

Senne was puzzled.

in addition.

The horses of the nine riders were covered with black horse coats, a garment typically worn only by nobles.

There was a slight bulge under the saddle, as if something was hidden there.

Even more special...

When the mercenaries got closest, apart from the one who had spoken, the other mercenaries all appeared much smaller under their hoods and leather armor.

"Could this be a mercenary group mainly composed of women?"

"In that case, it's understandable that they wouldn't want to take off their hood to avoid being harassed or looked down upon..."

Senne then overturned his earlier guess.

It's not unusual for women to be mercenaries.

However, the only Senne that had ever heard of recruiting women as mercenaries on a large scale Zerrikania, a nation on the other side of the Blue Mountains that used dragons as its emblem and flag.

There, you'll find the most dangerous woman in the world.

Dressed in clothes made of lion's mane and tattooed on their faces, they were born mercenaries, invincible on the battlefield and in bed.

The more Senne thought about it, the more confused he became.

He even speculated that this group of people were not the mercenaries the leader had described, but rather human traffickers.

However, everyone on the opposite horse was free. Although the people in the back were a bit clumsy, judging from the speed at which they drew their swords when they first encountered each other, they must have undergone professional training.

Every conjecture that was conceived was immediately refuted by him with sufficient reason.

This made the usually arrogant monk furrow his brows more and more tightly, his curiosity as if a cat were scratching at his heart.

He wanted to read minds, but the distance between him and the mercenaries was just outside his spellcasting range.

"Wait...

Senne couldn't hold back any longer and spoke up to stop him.

At this moment...

"Thank you so much for making way, Venerable Masters!"

The mercenary leader interrupted him as soon as he uttered a single word.

Immediately following.

Without waiting for their reply, the group of nine steered their horses past them and galloped away in a direction far from them.

"Lord Senne, shall we give chase?" the lead guard asked. "We can catch up at this distance..."

Senne watched the nine figures disappear into the distance, his expression a mixture of emotions.

The pupils shimmered with magical glows that were sometimes blue, sometimes red, sometimes brown, and sometimes cyan.

but.

Senne did not take any action until the suspicious group of mercenaries disappeared into the birch forest.

for a long time.

The sun had completely sunk below the horizon.

Only a thin, cool ray of light remained between heaven and earth.

"No."

"Let's keep going. Besides Banla Mill, there are still many places around Ban Ade where we need to deal with the water ghosts."

Senne shook his head and looked away.

Then, turning his head to look coldly at the trembling, cowering lower class, he didn't know why, but suddenly didn't want to wear his usual gentle facade anymore, and said coldly:

"Lead the way."

"Yes... yes... Banla Mill is just ahead."

"Phew~"

"Phew~"

Amidst the whistling wind, several orbs of light floated forward from the hands of the surrounding male wizards.

As Senne gazed at the white woodland illuminated by the orb of light, a premonition suddenly dawned on him.

Banla Mill...

He could find out the origins of this strange group of mercenaries there.