Dwarf Princess in Need of Rescue

"Who are you?" The witcher looked up from the bloodied, dissected belly of the monster.

Two warriors, a man and a woman, covered in sticky blood, stood before the head of Giant Ghoul with its eyes wide open. A hint of respect was barely discernible in their filthy faces.

Behind them, Vesemir was talking to a fat merchant, while the coachman nervously straightened the convoy of carriages.

Other witchers were harvesting materials, mercenaries were helping each other, some were collecting the bodies of their companions, and some were standing next to the young witchers.

I don't know if I was interested in their methods or curious about which parts of this hideous and foul-smelling monster were worth harvesting.

"We are the Free Anglin Mercenary Group from Temeria. I am Captain Ryan, and this is Dana ..."

"Hello, Ryan, Dana," Ailin with some curiosity, "How did you recognize me?"

"Sir Ailin..."

"Just call me Ailin ..." the Witcher interrupted.

He still wasn't used to being addressed by a title.

Of course, Sir Ailin sounds better than the cringeworthy "Blue Death," but it would be even better if he could just be called Master Ailin.

Unfortunately, perhaps because of his age, after becoming Witcher Master, he was rarely called that.

He couldn't just let people call him that directly, since it wouldn't be very respectable.

After being interrupted, Ryan exchanged a glance with Dana: "E... Ailin... Master?"

"That's very helpful..." The Witcher nodded in satisfaction.

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, "Master Ailin, half a month ago, a bard in the tavern of Temeria was singing about your deeds, wearing the May Festival crown, annihilating the horde of wraiths that besieged the city, and saving Arland..."

"... The azure Cat Eyes opened and closed, and death answered the call..." Dana began, her voice low and melodious, "... The fourteen-year-old Young Knight of Arland named his beloved Silver White Longsword Elsa..."

Dana hummed beautifully.

However, after Ailin heard the lyrics clearly, he couldn't help but glance at Vesemir with a strange expression.

Although the Witcher Master has never mentioned it since acquiring the new sword, Elsa is ultimately not Ailin's sword, nor was he the one who named Elsa.

His beloved longsword became famous in the hands of other witchers.

Tsk tsk...

The Witcher shook his head inwardly.

certainly.

This is not important to Ailin.

The bards' songs in the Witcher world are very short, basically consisting of two repetitive or progressive verses. Dana hummed the main verse in less than half a minute.

"Master Ailin," Ryan said solemnly, placing his right fist on his chest, "Thank you for saving me... for saving the freedom of Anglin..."

"There's no need for that," Ailin took a half step back, tilting his chin toward Vesemir. "The caravan owner will pay the witchers their due."

"It's different," the burly, middle-aged man with a thick beard shook his head. "I, Ryan, and Anglin owe you a life..."

"And me, Dana!" The woman, whose face was streaked with dried tears, glanced at Ryan and said solemnly.

Then.

The two bowed again decisively and turned to walk towards the convoy.

The Witcher paused for a moment, then chuckled and continued processing the materials for the Giant Ghoul.

Both the caravan and the mercenary group lost many people on this old battlefield.

But in the wild, things remain ominous. The old battlefield, inhabited by ghouls, has no intention of taking these corpses back with it, neither side.

Cut down trees, build bonfires, lay out corpses...

In order to leave this place of sorrow as soon as possible, the caravan owner also gave two hundred Oren to have the witchers use signs to heat up the campfire.

"This is the fate of mercenaries. They either die on the battlefield or somewhere else." Ryan, the leader of the mercenary group, stood beside Ailin, his eyes reflecting the raging flames under the gloomy sky.

"To die under the incandescent flames is already a good ending."

Carnivorous creatures often follow the scent and dig up graves in the wild where corpses are buried.

So Ryan is right.

Even if they were burned to ashes, it would still be a good ending for these mercenaries who made a living on the battlefield and in the wilderness to have one or two pieces of their remains taken away by their comrades and relatives as a memento.

After all, it would have been different if Ailin and his group of witchers hadn't happened to be passing by.

Most of these mercenaries will likely be wiped out, rotting on the old battlefield and becoming food for cannibalistic creatures.

They might even become nourishment for the next generation of carnivorous creatures they spawn in ways still unknown, or transform into ghosts out of resentment, to harm even more humans.

The soul, unable to find peace, returns to the realm of the gods of faith.

This is what most people in the Witcher world find even harder to accept.

"By the way," Ailin whispered, "Judging from how skillfully you dealt with the Ghoul, you don't seem like an inexperienced new mercenary group. Why did you come to this old battlefield?"

"You should know that this kind of place is the most likely to have Ghoul, right?"

"Of course I know..." Ryan sighed softly, "While we may not be professional monster hunters like you, we've traveled all over the place and naturally know where to go and where to avoid... but..."

Ryan's gaze instinctively drifted in one direction.

The Witcher followed his gaze and saw two little girls being held by what appeared to be their father, a middle-aged, obese merchant, who was unusually quiet as they watched the leaping flames.

"Sally ... she's the little girl on the left. When the convoy stopped for a rest, the cat she was holding suddenly darted out, and Sally immediately chased after it into the woods..."

"Then, like all foolish fables, our men caught up with the girl in the woods, only to attract monsters..."

"The convoy, guided by the cunning monster, fled here in a panic."

"The casualties were heavy."

Looking at the distorted shadows in the flames, Ryan paused for a moment, then said, "But we also have our reasons."

"Children and pets are the elements that are most likely to cause accidents during a trip."

"It's because I wasn't prepared..."

"Ryan ..." Dana reached out and squeezed his hand.

Ryan's expression immediately became somewhat unnatural. He tried to dodge, but Dana seemed to hold on even tighter, and he couldn't pull his hand away.

Perhaps because Ailin was there, Ryan only tried to pull his hand away, but couldn't, and then gave up.

Seeing that Ailin's gaze lingered on the two girls, he followed suit with a look of pity:

"Sally learned a lesson too..."

Ryan paused for a moment. "A very profound lesson..."

"Sally's mother, Lady Lys, was dragged away by Ghoul while trying to save them— Sally and Doya..." Dana sighed.

Before he could finish speaking, Ailin suddenly remembered the woman's scream he had heard in the grove.

Now I finally understand why those two little girls were unusually quiet for their age.

"That really is... really..."

After a simple cremation, the convoy continued its journey.

The witcher accepted the generous reward from the fat merchant and traveled with the caravan.

Their destination was also the smugglers' trail, but their ultimate goal was not Phogen, but rather Lasterburg in Lyria and Lyria after passing through Ard.

As for why the plump merchant was traveling through this war-torn region with his family?

The merchant didn't say anything, and Vesemir didn't ask any further questions.

Everyone has secrets.

We're just travel companions for a short stretch of the journey; there's no need to know so much.

certainly.

Most importantly...

The money is enough.

"Bang!"

Under the covetous gaze of the young witcher, Ailin caught the money bag that Vesemir threw to him.

"Splash!"

The crisp sound of coins clinking together.

"Eighteen hundred Oren, half for you and half for me." Vesemir pulled the reins closer.

Yes, nearly a thousand Oren have arrived in my account.

Before the School of the Wolf declined and monsters became as rare as they are in novels and games, this was the income level of top Witcher Master.

Unlike Geralt's generation of witchers, they wouldn't risk their lives for a few coins, only to be subjected to harsh discounts and potentially face being driven away or scorned by villagers.

He even "sold his daughter" for a hundred florins.

From this perspective, the timing of Ailin's journey to the Witcher world was actually quite good.

At least the Witcher Master won't be short of money. After spending lavishly, he can still fund the school to support a large group of apprentices in Kaer Morhen.

"Alright, alright, we'll give you your share when we get to Fujian."

The witcher, who had been pitifully stared at by the young witcher for a long time, smiled helplessly.

"Long live the commander!"

The young witcher immediately cheered.

In reality, these young witchers who have just come down from the mountain are all apprentices who are learning from their mentors during their travels, and it doesn't matter whether they get paid or not.

But he certainly wouldn't be that demanding.

"Da da da~"

Riding alongside the long caravan, I overheard the young witchers discussing how to spend their money; even the boss himself hadn't yet decided on a fixed salary.

Ailin suddenly noticed that Vesemir's eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and he kept glancing at the desolate wilderness behind him.

"Worried about pursuers from Ban Ade."

This is a certainty, not a question.

Vesemir, who was turning his gaze back, paused for a moment upon hearing Ailin's words, then nodded.

"Don't worry, we've been traveling for six days straight since we left Ban Ade. How could those pampered wizards possibly catch up so quickly?" Ailin reassured him.

It's not that he doesn't believe Vesemir's words.

He agreed that the sorcerer named Senne should have recognized them by now and would probably be trying to plot against them.

However, he also wouldn't overestimate his importance in the wizard's heart.

Vesemir and Ianna's teachings, especially Ianna's account of Water Divination and Fire Divination rituals, mentioned several methods sorcerers used to Tracking.

Based on the traces left by the witchers, the sorcerers either lay in ambush on the spot or followed their trail on horseback; there was almost no third possibility.

He rode on horseback for five days straight without sleep or rest, until his hips were chafed raw...

Let alone whether those male wizards have that much willpower, their bodies haven't been strengthened, so how could they be as resilient as the witchers who have been modified by brewing medicine?

While melee burst damage is rapid, it doesn't necessarily mean it can last a long time.

Moreover, once you cross this smuggler's path, you'll be in Ard's territory. At that point, the real concern might be the lone wizard.

Ailin felt that the truly dangerous time would be on the return journey, at which point they should perhaps consider taking a detour.

It's unclear why Vesemir is so persistent, or what happened between him and that wizard named Senne in the past.

"Uh~"

Vesemir hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"Instead of worrying about pampered wizards catching up from behind, we should worry about Fergen ahead," Ailin chuckled. "There's a ' Dwarf Princess ' besieged by an army there, waiting for us to rescue her."

"You little rascal!"

Vesemir laughed and cursed.

"But you're right..."

"I'd better go and remind the caravan, just in case there really is a remnant of the Kedwen army near Fugen..."

Before he could finish speaking...

The Witcher Master pulled on the reins and drove the caravan to the front.

"Da da da~"

The rapid sound of horses' hooves gradually blended into the sound of the carriage crushing stones.

Ailin looked at the haggard-looking merchant with red eyes, leaned out of the carriage, and forced a smile as he spoke to Vesemir.

After exchanging only a few words, he called over Ryan, the leader of the Free Anglin Mercenary Group, with a look of surprise and uncertainty.

"Fergen, Fergen..." Ailin muttered to himself, then turned back to look in the direction they had come from.

The faint smell of burning can still be smelled on the tip of the nose. The old battlefield that buried many people has been covered by sparse trees, dense bushes and gray rocks.

The Witcher's eyes were unfathomable, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

"Rumble~"

During the summer flood season, the surging Pontar River was left behind by the convoy.

There was no third-rate plot where, just after crossing the border between Kedwen and Ard, a powerful enemy with thousands of troops blocked the way.

The convoy didn't stop for a moment. Along the way, only a few foolish water ghosts appeared, and before the witchers could even make a move, they were quickly dealt with by the mercenaries of the Free Anglin.

This mercenary group is indeed quite something. After observing them along the way, Ailin gradually formed some ideas, but they were not yet fully formed.

After crossing the Pontar River, the convoy soon arrived at the crossroads where, two months earlier, Ailin and Vesemir had killed the attacking White Widow and captured Thomas Morlu and Macaque.

Upon arriving at this familiar place, Vesemir, who had been on edge the entire way, visibly relaxed considerably.

Ailin didn't laugh at the Witcher Master either, because he also felt a sense of relief.

Mainly within the territory of Kedwen, there is always a strong sense of crisis, more or less, that one could be surrounded and annihilated by a large army at the slightest provocation.

Given this sense of crisis, the strength of the pursuer of the male wizard actually becomes secondary.

At the crossroads, not far from there lies the fortified city of Fujian, carved out of the mountains by the dwarves.

However, as darkness fell, the current situation in Fujian remained unclear.

After discussing it with Vesemir and Ryan, the wealthy merchant settled down here.

"Ernie, Klar, you stay here to protect the caravan..."

Upon returning, Vesemir gave the young witcher a few instructions, then looked at Ailin.

"Let's go, let's see if our 'Princess Horton ' really needs a knight's rescue!"