Flying to Ban Ard?

Gazing into Lyra's pleading, dark eyes, for a moment, Ailin even thought he had already agreed.

why not?

Political leaders admire you, religious leaders adore you, the entire city worships you, and you are seen as an epic hero. All you have to do is your job—hunt monsters.

why not?

Ailin took a deep breath.

The scorching midday air rushed into my nostrils, burning away my vanity.

"I'm sorry, Lyra."

"Why?" Lyra's smile became somewhat forced as she pressed on, "Everyone likes you so much, why don't you choose to stay?"

"You know my background very well, Ailin."

"My father valued the nobility of Kedwen so much. His loyalty to his country far surpassed his love for his wife and children. From the time I was born, my father fought against the vicious Ard, against the cruel elves, and even against his own people in Kedwen who were driven to banditry by the king's heavy taxes, all for the sake of the king and Kedwen..."

"The borders of Kedwen have indeed expanded considerably as a result, but for nearly ten years after I was born, the total time I could see my father each year did not exceed two months."

"My mother and father argued countless times about this. While other nobles and knights in Kedwen would always find excuses to avoid being conscripted, he always said that it was the duty of nobles and knights to serve their lord faithfully."

"So whenever the king gave the order, he would always lead his retinue to charge ahead, but he was not a man who liked war. In his spare time, he even enjoyed painting and writing poetry..."

"Do you know? Every time my father hugs me, I can smell the blood that is pickled into my soul."

And in the end?

"What became of the knights and nobles who remained loyal to the kingdom in the end?"

"Dad is dead, Mom is dead, Brother Aini, Brother Ryder, Elijah, Bard, Quinn... even Mrs. Rhea and Mr. Knoll are dead..."

"This is what happens when you're loyal to Kedwen!"

"Ailin!"

"Kedwen is not good enough for you!"

Lyra spoke extremely fast, like a rapid-fire bullet without any pause.

Tears welled up in her eyes, accumulating as her tone grew increasingly pained.

He must have been thinking about the past.

Ailin subconsciously extended his index finger to wipe away the little priest's tears, only to realize afterward that the action was somewhat inappropriate.

However, the priest only stiffened for a moment when his fingers touched the alabaster-white skin, without any other reaction.

"I am not loyal to Kedwen," he said softly, "But I am a Witcher, a Witcher of the School of the Wolf, and I cannot remain in Arland unless the school moves away."

Lyra mistakenly believed that the School of the Wolf would punish the traitorous witcher. "But you have Vesemir. I can see that she cares about you and treats you like her own child. Mother Ianna and the Old Duke also like you very much. As long as you are willing to come here, how dare the School of the Wolf pursue the matter?"

"I can also contact my aunt; my family has some acquaintances in Temeria ..."

"It's not because of that. The school doesn't care about the betrayal of the Witchers," Ailin shook his head, interrupting Lyra. "But I am a Witcher. My fellow Witchers are all in the School of the Wolf. That's my home."

Lyra opened her lips, as if she wanted to say something.

But after waiting for a long time, she didn't say a word. Disappointed, he turned and walked slowly across the three-story red brick building toward the Temple of Melitele.

Ailin paused for a moment, then slowly followed.

Many people left the temple at noon, but very few could recognize Ailin in his mercenary attire.

The tranquil atmosphere, so different from the city center, cooled his vanity once again, and his slightly wavering will returned to firmness.

In this era, public opinion is easily manipulated, and there is almost no cost to fabricating facts for the lower classes.

Although he is being praised very highly by Arland now, as seen, heard, and felt, if the upper-class nobles were to slightly change their tune, it wouldn't necessarily lead to everyone condemning him, but the fervent atmosphere would inevitably cool down immediately, followed by indifference, and then hostility.

Is it really impossible?

That's not necessarily true.

Don't forget, last night the Old Duke was complaining about his "good-for-nothing" son, and the Old Duke...

He is very old.

With this in mind, Ailin calmed down completely.

A gentle, warm breeze rustled the old trees lining both sides of the road, their swaying shadows creating a golden path ahead.

Having walked halfway, we could already see the benevolent and divine statues at the entrance of the temple.

"Last night..." Lyra suddenly spoke, but only said two words.

"What happened last night?" Ailin turned his head.

The girl wasn't looking at him; instead, she stared blankly at the shimmering spots of light on the ground.

"Last night I broke the curse, those living witchers who had been cursed into jade statues by the wizards..."

"Green leather armor, green sword."

"It's tiny, less than half a meter long, and feels cold and stiff when you hold it in your hand."

"Like..."

The girl closed her eyes. "Like a dead thing."

Ailin remained silent.

"They were all about your age and professional demon hunters, but because of a single spell, they didn't even have time to fight back. Their lives stopped at that moment, and they were completely unable to move."

"At that moment, several terrible thoughts suddenly popped into my head..."

"What would happen if the wizard took these jade statues back with him?"

"I will be tortured like a prisoner, disemboweled and studied as the rumors say, or... I will die in obscurity like my father..."

"If..." The girl paused, turning her head to look at Ailin.

Ailin looked at her silently, and he saw fear flowing in her eyes, a trembling fear.

"What if that jade statue was you?"

"That wasn't mine," Ailin said. "Quite the opposite, it was I who rescued Ernie and the others."

"It can't be you, can it?"

"Absolutely not!" Ailin looked directly into the girl's eyes, her gaze unwavering.

With his current strength, there might be someone in this world who can defeat him or kill him, but absolutely no one, including wizards, can turn him into a jade statue without any resistance.

And this is only half a year. Time is on his side, and he will become stronger and stronger.

"That's good." The girl looked away, glancing down at the surface of her gray cloth shoes. "That's good."

Seeing the girl's disappointed expression, Ailin wanted to say something more.

However, after thinking about it, he ultimately chose to keep his mouth shut, look at the road beneath his feet, and slowly move forward.

And so, in silence, the two returned to the temple.

"Going to the canteen?" Ailin asked, standing under the statue at the temple entrance.

"No," Lyra shook her head, "I need to go back first."

"Okay then, thank you for giving me directions this morning, I'm very happy."

"I'm just glad I didn't spoil your fun." Lyra smiled wryly. "I don't even know why I said that just now..."

"However, even so, I still think you said something wrong..."

"Which sentence?" Ailin asked, puzzled.

"Ailin!" Lyra looked at him solemnly, her tone extremely serious. "Your kind are not just the witchers of Kaer Morhen, or Kaer Seren, Gesvids, Heinkaveh... these fortresses."

"You are human."

"Your kind are everywhere in the Northern Continent. Vesemir is, Nannick is, Mother Ianna is, Lady Vesemir is, and I... I am too..."

"If Kaer Mohan can be your home, there must be other places that can be."

"Arland, Temple of Melitele, so many people love you, I...we can all become your family."

"You still have a lot of time in Arland."

"Important decisions shouldn't be made so early."

After speaking.

Without waiting for Ailin's reply, or perhaps she dared not hear his answer, Lyra fled into the temple as if escaping.

"I am human too..."

Ailin stood there stunned for a moment, then shook his head with a wry smile.

"Huff~ Huff~"

Panting heavily, Lyra and Ailin parted ways at the temple entrance, and Lysa jogged back to her dormitory.

It was a house similar to the longhouse where several witchers stayed at the Temple of Melitele, and it housed many children of similar status to Lyra.

However, it was mealtime, and the longhouse was empty.

"Bang!"

After closing the door, Lyra leaned against the wooden door, her right hand resting on her heaving chest.

now.

In her mind, there was only the sound of her heart pounding; everything else was blank.

I don't know how much time passed.

The sounds of laughter and chatter gradually drifted in from outside the door.

Only then did she snap out of her daze of the emptiness.

"Phew~"

Take a deep breath and wait for your heart to return to its normal rhythm before opening your eyes.

Before me was a very simple room with a bed, a clothes rack, a table, and a cabinet—all the simplest furniture without any patterns.

It was vastly different from the Viscount's daughter's room, which she vaguely remembered as being filled with various expensive dolls and oil paintings.

It's not even as good as the house that Sadia built with illusions and magic in the abandoned mine.

That's not entirely true.

Perhaps it was because magic was used, or perhaps it was because of some kind of compensatory psychology on Sadia's part.

Her "room" in the abandoned mine must have been much better than the one in the castle, because she remembered there were many elf-style dolls beside her bed.

These are toys that a Viscount could not afford, even if he were truly willing to give everything for his daughter.

"If you're truly willing to give everything, you should live a good life..."

The dead memories were attacking her again, the girl muttered and sighed softly.

then.

Her father had the opportunity to escape with her, but he chose not to.

Because of a ridiculous chivalric code? Or did he still harbor some expectation of Haxor? Or was he essentially a coward, unwilling and unable to face the pursuit of the lord he had been loyal to all his life?

She didn't know.

After her mother died in front of her, she thought about this question countless times, but she could never deduce the answer, and probably never will.

After all, the dead can't speak, never.

That's not right either. Wizards are strictly forbidden from using necromancy, but High Priest can perform descent rituals.

But she didn't even know where his body was...

Lost in thought, Lyra walked to the spotless wooden table, skillfully opened the drawer, and took out a wooden carving.

A wooden sculpture in the shape of a human, depicting a warrior carrying two swords.

If Ailin were here, he would find that this wood carving is very similar to those he saw in the market square during the day.

The only difference is that on the wooden base of the carving, in the inscription "Hero of Arland - Witcher Master Ailin", a few words have been altered with a carving knife, and the altered text is noticeably more aesthetically pleasing than the original, carrying a touch of Ian Siddi's elegant style.

Lyra stared blankly for a while, her slender index finger gently stroking the wooden sculpture's face, and the usual random thoughts in her mind gradually disappeared.

Then she suddenly took a carving knife out of the drawer.

"Duh~duh~duh~"

Wood chips were scattered.

When she stopped, the inscription on the wooden base had changed to "Lyra's Hero - Human Ailin," and the marks on the back were noticeably newer than those on the front.

"Good."

Lyra nodded in satisfaction, but after a few more glances, her mood soured again.

She sighed, blew the sawdust off the table, then carefully placed the wood carving on the wooden table, crossed her arms over her chest, and prayed:

"Homage to the Mother of All Things, Goddess of fertility, harvest, and childbirth, Eternal Maiden, Mother, and Guardian of the Old Woman, your faithful Lyra begs for your protection... human... no... the Witcher Ailin..."

"Homage to the Mother of All Things, the Goddess of fertility, harvest, and childbirth..."

Amidst the prayers, a soft sigh drifted from somewhere, unnoticed by anyone.

On the other side of the temple, not far away...

The girl's protagonist, who was praying, was unaware that while someone hung him on the door hoping to avoid being disturbed by evil spirits, someone else locked him in a drawer, praying that the god she devoutly believed in would use his Divine Power to watch over and protect him.

Having just finished lunch, Ailin was pondering what to do in the afternoon.

The official demon-hunting time agreed upon with the Old Duke was tomorrow, but it was temporarily changed to the afternoon, and the Old Duke certainly wouldn't object.

However, mobilizing the Monster Hunter Army takes time, and Vesemir is still training young Witchers. The young Witchers need to adapt to their bodies after the Shapeshifting Sealing Charm is lifted. As for sending him to hunt Witchers alone, it's not impossible, but he clearly lacks the motivation.

and...

As they walked toward the longhouse where the Witcher lived, Ailin suddenly had an idea.

"It's only been two days since the evening Ban Ad was attacked by the Wild Hunt. Shall we go check on him?"

The idea immediately took hold of his mind.

After all, both the current situation of Ban Ad Academy and the intelligence on the Wild Hunt were very important to him.

This relates to Ailin's assessment of the strength of his two greatest enemies.

Especially the Wild Hunt, the strength of the Aion Els was a complete mystery to him, and the content in the games and original works of his previous life had no credibility at all.

After all, the Wild Hunt, which could destroy a city with just a few spells, couldn't capture Ciri, who could only ride a horse in the original story. Moreover, during the Battle of Kaer Morhen, they fought the girl-hunting team with melee weapons almost the entire time.

That's somewhat outrageous.

Without the Greater Griffin, the round trip would take almost a month, which is definitely not feasible.

But now...

The Greater Griffin flew from Vengerberg to Arland in less than an hour, while he had a whole afternoon... no... the Greater Griffin knew the way, so he had almost half a day plus a whole night.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, it's entirely feasible!