Hunting the Greater Griffin

The morning mist draped a thin veil over the bright sky.

Two travelers arrived in the remote countryside.

The stench of war and the smell of burning coals filled the air, the kind of smell that most easily arouses monsters, but they were completely oblivious to the danger, riding their horses as if they were on a picnic.

Upon closer inspection, one will discover that the travelers were not simply on a aimless excursion.

A white star, trailing a long tail, floated in front of two white steeds, guiding the way.

"Hatred! Ever since the time of migration, when the White Ship of the elves ran aground in Skellige, the hatred of foolish Mortal World has never ceased."

"It's laughable to think about it."

Vilgefortz squinted.

Lydia followed the man's gaze.

Black smoke replaced cooking smoke, rising sparsely from the earth.

"That's Silendo. The day before yesterday, I lost another stone bridge there, and it's said that more than three hundred people died," Lydia said calmly.

Just like his father, Haxor, the Glutton, the Lone King is the new King Rado of Kedwen, a new nickname circulating in the city.

"The new king, abandoned by all, mistook the reflection in the lake for the stars in the night sky," Vilgefortz shook his head regretfully. "He doesn't even know who truly controls the kingdom, how can he win?"

"Won't this affect our plans?" Lydia asked worriedly. "Demavend II of Ard is very hostile to male sorcerers. Fritz, who was originally a court sorcerer, is said to have been put in Aetherium shackles and imprisoned in the dungeon."

"Not only on the front lines, but all border cities in Ard are now banning male sorcerers from entering."

"I've heard that Lady Tissaia has been busy recommending the Sorceress of Aretuza to the nobles of Ard in recent months."

"In addition..."

"Carlo of Temeria, Samantha and Alice of Tretog, and even Vesemir, the Crimson Fox who has always lived in seclusion, have all expressed their desire to compete for a place in the newly established Supreme Council this year, and even plan to advocate for an increase in the number of Sorceress in the High Sorcerer Council..."

"These are all your Aretuza secrets, aren't they?" Vilgefortz smiled gently. "Are you just telling me that?"

The man's voice was captivatingly magnetic, making one unconsciously want to hear more from him.

"Vigor..." Lydia, her mind completely absorbed in the wizard's smile, murmured as if in a dream, "My home is not in Aretuza ..."

Vilgefortz did not respond, but maintained his gentle smile.

"It won't have any impact," he shook his head. "Kedwen is much stronger Ard. The current predicament is only due to the power struggle in the Kedwen court. But once I completely compromise, or achieve a complete victory... of course, that's unlikely... the war between the two countries will end soon."

"Ard's rejection of male wizards and acceptance of Sorceress would affect the power structure of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. But don't forget that no matter how much balance is maintained, four of the five members of the Talent and Skill Association are male wizards from Ban Ade, and the one with the highest status is none other than Hen Gedimidis."

"As for other high-ranking wizards, Ban Ade's male wizards also have the upper hand."

Hearing this, Lydia's eyes lit up. "That's it! It was Hen Gedimidis who invited you to Ban Ad."

"So what if it isn't?" Vilgefortz said, riding his white steed with an upright and elegant posture. "Ultimately, the selection is based on results."

"Vigor..."

The intense confidence in Vilgefortz's tone made Lydia's breathing quicken.

Just as she was about to say something.

"Ring~"

The star, its long, snow-white tail swaying, twinkled and made a strange noise that interrupted Lydia. It then sped up and flew into the dense forest.

Vilgefortz and Lydia immediately fell silent and spurred their horses into a gallop.

The birch forest, though not large, is filled with the roots and branches of plants, like the tentacles of a demon from hell.

The unusual smell gradually became clearer.

"Quack--"

The crows were startled by the uninvited guests and scattered, leaving behind only a hoarse, mournful cry.

"Hercules~"

As his gaze fell upon the dark, raven-feathered sky, Vilgefortz immediately tightened the reins and brought the horse to a stop.

What comes into view is a hell called the battlefield.

Rusty swords and shields, defeated banners stuck in the ground, overturned wagons, and of course... countless corpses—everything related to war can be found in this place.

"Da da da~"

The white steed, driven by its master, reluctantly stepped forward.

He chanted a spell to drive away the Ghoul that were licking the corpses of their own kind.

Lydia stared, her face pale, as the magically formed stars flew from one monster's corpse to another, finally settling above a pool of dark blood.

"Are you alright?" Vilgefortz asked with a hint of concern.

"It's nothing, it's just a bit disgusting."

Vilgefortz nodded, the sapphire ring on his right index finger shimmering with a deep blue light.

When the radiance reached its peak brightness, he gently waved his hand.

The white magical stars instantly spread, transforming into a translucent mist that enveloped the entire old battlefield.

Ghoul, Rotfiend, humans, and witchers—blurred white illusions taking on various forms—fight silently and at incredible speeds across this seemingly cursed, dark brown land.

"The Stars of Ilar are so clear; they were on this battlefield at most three days ago..." Lydia exclaimed excitedly, "We're almost there!"

Although the journey alone with Vilgefortz was enjoyable, the rough and open conditions certainly couldn't compare to the comfort of the Sorcerer's Tower.

More importantly.

If they can capture those witchers, Vilgefortz will surely gain the support of Ban Adler and the Radical Faction sorcerers led by Senne at the year-end conference.

Vilgefortz, however, was not as excited as Lydia.

He frowned and tugged at the reins.

The white horse strode gently forward, walking to the spot of blood where the Stars of Ilar had finally settled.

The surrounding white illusions were bustling with activity, but there was nothing on this extremely obvious, huge bloodstain.

Vilgefortz scanned his surroundings intently, but could not find a single phantom figure that matched the massive marks on the ground.

Lydia noticed the wizard's unusual behavior. "What's wrong, Vigor?"

"There's a missing illusion here." Vilgefortz frowned. "Judging from the size of the mark, it should be Giant Ghoul cannibalistic creature."

Lydia rode over curiously and observed carefully for a few seconds. "There is indeed a missing illusion."

"The witcher who killed this Giant Ghoul didn't participate in killing the water ghost that Miguel gave him the bloodstains for?"

"Or perhaps someone who isn't part of our target group has joined us?"

Vilgefortz did not speak.

Lydia's guess was reasonable, but something still felt off to him.

The Stars of Ilar is Ancient Elven Magic they unearthed from ancient elven ruins, specifically used for tracking, and is closely linked to an ancient, unnamed god of fate.

It's also because it involves fate.

Even though ancient magic was already profound and obscure, the difficulty of learning Stars of Ilar Illusion was increased by hundreds or thousands of times.

Almost only those with a unique connection to the world and the elements, like him, can learn it.

However, the spell effects of Stars of Ilar Illusion are equally challenging.

It is not prophecy or divination, yet it is more mysterious than prophecy and divination, and its principles are difficult to fathom, just like...

A black box.

Anything that has some kind of fateful connection to the target should appear in the form of an illusion.

He glanced up again.

Ghoul, Rotfiend, witchers... and humans...

Could it be that these white, human-shaped illusions have been following the Witcher all along?

"Viggo!"

Lydia suddenly shouted, interrupting Vilgefortz.

"That direction is... Ard?" Lydia's expression changed drastically after seeing the direction the white illusion had gone. "Vigor... they really did cross the battlefield and head towards Ard!"

"It's alright," Vilgefortz reassured softly. "Ard bans male witches and has only joined forces with Aretuza."

"Without wizards around, mortals searching alone can only catch low-level wizards."

"But we really need to speed things up," Vilgefortz suddenly remembered something, his expression turning serious. "We must stop the Witchers before they reach Vengerberg, otherwise the Stars of Ilar will be isolated and dissipated by the power of the capital of Ard."

After speaking.

Vilgefortz waved his hand.

The white illusions on the vast old battlefield instantly condensed into stars, trailing pure white flames as they flew south.

The flight speed was significantly faster than before arriving at this battlefield, by about half again.

"Call!"

The white horse galloped by, the wind whistling past my ears.

Vilgefortz held the reins, but his mind kept wandering to the illusion that had just vanished.

There are only fragmentary records in the ancient elven ruins, and Stars of Ilar Illusion is the first time he has used it to chase after a stranger since he learned it.

He couldn't be sure which of his guesses about the disappearance of the illusions was correct.

Lydia's guess was certainly more reasonable, but Vilgefortz always felt there was another reason that even he himself couldn't believe.

Is it possible... for anyone to escape the scrutiny of fate?

who is he?

Thinking of this, a familiar prophecy inexplicably surfaced in Vilgefortz's mind, and his heart suddenly pumped faster, causing his blood to surge through his body.

"Phew~"

He swallowed hard, moistening his suddenly dry throat.

"I don't want to think about it anymore!" Vilgefortz took a deep breath to calm his suddenly agitated heart. "No matter which possibility it is, as long as we capture those witchers, the truth will come out."

As for whether all the Witchers can be captured alive...

Vilgefortz never considered the possibility of failure.

after all.

Wizards are the true creators of this world.

The Witcher...

It is just one of the countless failed creations of the Creator.

next day

Afternoon.

After the summer solstice, time quickly moves into the Sun Moon.

The scorching sun also revealed its true power.

The formidable city of Vengerberg, one of the few strongholds on the Northern Continent, was distorted in the air. The city walls, gates, and the palaces built against the mountainside inside looked like strange candles sculpted by a skilled craftsman, melted by flames.

Only the metal dome of the royal palace gleamed, like flowing gold.

Shift your gaze downwards.

The crowds coming and going into the city had to avoid the blazing sun; everyone was exhausted, even the knights and soldiers clad in armor.

Or perhaps the reason these humans are so dejected is not because the sun only shows its power for a few dozen days a year, but rather...

A terrifying and furious howl tore through the sky, causing the city, already distorted by the high temperature, to tremble.

The crowds walking along the wide avenue in front of the Vengerberg gates, hearing the shouts, abandoned their carriages, goods, and anything that would hinder their movement, and hid in the shadows of the city walls, the grass and wheat fields on both sides of the avenue, and anywhere else they could conceal themselves.

In the blink of an eye, the entire avenue was deserted.

It's clear they are very skilled.

"They're here!"

A soft shout came from the grass at least a kilometer away from Vengerberg.

Immediately following.

"Buzz~"

The moment the faint but intense buzzing sound rang out, an immense pressure suddenly pressed down from above, as if the sky, which was under the blazing sun, had collapsed.

Then a vast expanse of shadow covered the sky and cast a huge shadow on the earth.

The witcher, hidden in the grass, quietly looked up at the sky.

The eagle's curved beak, the lion's sharp claws.

Sparse feathers could hardly conceal the fiery red flesh, and the enormous wings that blotted out the sky...

"It's definitely Greater Griffin!" Vesemir squinted, his voice very soft, as if afraid of waking the monster in the sky.

Ailin, standing beside Vesemir, did not focus his gaze on the swooping Greater Griffin, but instead looked in the direction from which the monster had come.

There are majestic mountains with snow-capped peaks and white clouds hanging around their waists.

It is also part of the Blue Mountains.

It's just that it can be seen by the nobles of Vengerberg, unlike the others around Kaer Morhen, which are nameless.

Adria (Elder Speech: Ard Rhena) roughly translates to "High Queen" or "Supreme Queen".

"Phew~"

The enormous wings, resembling clouds, whipped up a fierce wind that flattened vast fields of golden wheat.

The Witcher's vision was thus obscured.

All that could be heard was the Greater Griffin's frantic howling, as if it were searching for a mortal enemy.

They quickly crossed the wheat field where the Witcher was.

The two witchers quickly pushed aside the broken straws and looked toward Vengerberg.

Faintly, a few cold glints flashed on the towering towers of Vengerberg.

Just as Ailin was wondering what it was...

"Zheng—"

"Call out!"

Several iron arrows, each nearly two meters long, gleamed with a cold light, and shot straight from the city tower at the Greater Griffin.

Ailin's heart clenched instantly.

Although it was wrong to think that way, he had already regarded the Greater Griffin as his own.

Except for dragons.

The best monsters that the Giant Beast Lasso of the One-Eyed Clan can catch are basically the Greater Griffin.

More powerful sub-dragon monsters such as pterodactyls, fork-tailed dragons, and giant lizards are not only bad-tempered but also harder to find, and they generally live in groups in the Dragon Mountains of Hengfors.

Moreover, he only wanted a flying monster for transportation and did not intend to have it participate in battles.

That's why we just dealt with the Greater Griffin had been dealt with, and now we have the perfect solution for the Mixed Beast Oil.

"No way," Vesemir shook his head. "The people of Ard don't know how to use the Dragon Slayer Crossbow at all. It's too slow and doesn't even have a red magical glow. They're just using it like an ordinary ballista."

really.

The Greater Griffin simply let out another angry cry and flapped its wings.

The green light, mixed with a gust of wind, instantly blew several iron arrows down.

It then fell into Vengerberg and was hidden by the city walls.

The witcher, hidden in the wheat field, could only hear the rumbling sounds of destruction and the furious cries of the Greater Griffin.

After a while.

Having vented its rage, the monster flapped its wings, which blotted out the sky, and flew back along the same path.

"Phew~"

The wind blew across the wheat field once again.

Even though they couldn't see the damage Vengerberg, the two Witchers could tell just by looking at the large patches of broken, oozing straw around them.

Ard suffered a truly heavy loss because of this Greater Griffin.

The Greater Griffin soared over the wheat field where the witchers were hiding. Vesemir and Ailin watched its retreating figure and whispered in unison:

"Chase after them!"