Another S-Rank Evaluation

Following the Witcher, are elves and warlocks also monsters?

Ailin sighed as he wandered through the bizarre and wonderful "The Rift".

"The Rift" refers to the space between two doors.

This is the sorcerers' version of events, but it may have been traced back to the time of the Elven Empire, passed down through the magic of wizards to Ain Siddi.

Ailin often wondered, with a hint of malice, if the elven sages who taught him magic knew that their "good disciple" had caused their descendants to live in hiding, he wondered if they would regret it.

But then I thought about it again, and maybe that's not necessarily true...

The elven sage knows the past and the future; perhaps one day, he will see a fragment of the future in his crystal ball.

I just don't know why humanity has developed to this point.

Are humans just too useful?

Is our connection with humanity becoming so close that it's gradually becoming inseparable?

Or perhaps the wise man who saw the future, for some reason, was unwilling to reveal the truth?

Speaking of which, the Wild Hunt —Ion El—also enjoys ordering humans around, and it's said they often abduct humans from the Witcher world.

In the original story, when Ciri was captured and taken to the capital of Tir ná Lia Alder Folk, she encountered human servants wearing hoods.

"Dh'oine" is the name they use to refer to humans. Judging from Ciri's resistance to this name at the time, it may have carried a hint of contempt and belittlement.

Intelligent life forms that wish to live elegantly and noblely always need to exploit other intelligent life forms.

Perhaps the relationship between humans and Ion Siddi was like that in the past.

Human nobles, who pride themselves on their noble birth and pure bloodline, are unwilling to admit that their ancestors were once servants in order to maintain their rule, and would rather bear the infamy of being ungrateful.

Lost in thought, Ailin felt that she was getting closer to the truth.

Although these speculations are of no use to him now.

Um...

It wasn't entirely useless; at least his random thoughts kept his wandering mind from being drawn to the bizarre and complex scenes of unknown origin within the "The Rift," thus maintaining mental clarity.

This is important.

It's important to know that the portal spell is one of the top-tier spells, even among master-level spells.

There are no more than thirty sorcerers in the entire Northern Continent who can perform this skill normally, which gives you an idea of the difficulty and danger involved.

Ailin was able to learn it thanks to the Witcher's Handbook.

Memory implantation and body modification made him seem as if he was born with this skill.

Even so, he could feel the power of the Witcher's Handbook involved every time he used the portal.

therefore.

Even without the "Gaze of the Great Old One," the "The Rift" remains dangerous for him.

He had to be careful and constantly remind himself when crossing the Rift.

This wouldn't have been a problem in the past, but now, the exhaustion from severe injury and blood loss made him extremely sleepy. When the system settlement notification sounded and he was completely safe, he felt his eyelids drooping.

So he had to find something to do, like when he was tired from keeping watch, it was best to find someone to chat with.

Unfortunately, he was all alone and could only talk to himself.

In a daze, a wary eagle's cry startled him awake.

The red moon hangs high in the sky.

The evening breeze rustled through the trees and grass in the woods.

He had passed through the portal without even realizing it.

"Have we arrived yet...?"

Ailin stumbled and fell to the ground, barely managing to stand up.

"It's me, Good Girl."

He raised his heavy arm and waved towards the place in the darkness where the intimate emotions were emanating.

The Greater Griffin called out affectionately, habitually landing down and trying to nuzzle him with its hard beak.

But before he could even touch his beak.

The wind from the Greater Griffin's flapping wings sent him tumbling several times like a whirlwind.

"Good Girl, stop making a fuss..."

Ailin grumbled helplessly, just as he was about to muster his strength to get up.

Unexpectedly, the next second, my body suddenly felt light.

The Greater Griffin caught him in its beak and carefully placed him on its back.

"Shhh~"

His stiff, yet thick mane instantly enveloped him.

A strong, rusty, wild odor wafted in, yet it brought a sense of peace.

"Good Girl," he said softly.

"Huh?"

"Return to the Temple of Melitele."

"Bah!"

The Greater Griffin let out a clear cry and quickly flapped its wings.

The weeds on the ground and the tall trees in the forest all fell down one after another.

Ailin, who had never felt so weak, glanced back through the gaps in his mane.

Two thick plumes of smoke, one large and one small, rose straight up into the dark blue-black night sky of the north.

Just then, the settlement was completed.

[Ding! Monster horde "Aien El" LV93 and "Warlock" LV73 to be defeated!]

[Rewards Settlement: Victory over the Enemy, Base Rating D, Killing a Level Above the Enemy +3 - C, Decapitation Intimidation +3 - B, Drive Wolves to Devour Tigers +3 - A, Winning Against a Quantity +3 - S]

Final rating: S (Bonus *3)

[Loot obtained: 2 x 3 Immortal's Memory Crystal, 10 x 3 Sorcerer's Memory, 45 x Experience Orbs, 18 x Ain El '@#￥%&'s Chest, 18 x Sorcerer's Chest]

Wow!

S rating!

Ailin felt a refreshing shiver run through his body, as if all the weakness and pain in his back and limbs had vanished instantly.

Since he obtained the Witcher's Handbook, this is the fourth time he has received an S-rank rating in countless raids.

Not only were the Experience Orbs, which were originally depleted, greatly replenished, but more importantly, the treasure chest was also obtained.

Thirty-six treasure chests in total!

Thirty-six!

They are all top-quality treasure chests, such as those for Ion El and Warlocks, which are no less valuable than those for large monsters.

To be honest, even without Ailin eliminating the ghouls in a few days, this alone would be enough for him to shamelessly ask the Goddess Meritellie for a bountiful harvest.

In addition, there are six "Ain El"... no... Immortal's Memory Crystal...

Ailin still refused to believe that there wasn't a single trace of information about the White Frost.

Moreover, the spoils left behind by "Ain El" were not Ain El's memories, but the crystallization of immortals.

Who knows what other benefits there might be besides memory and potential skills and experience?

However, he will only know these things after he returns to the Temple of Melitele and is fully restored.

wrong.

I need to figure out a way to learn the Elder Speech first.

Otherwise, if you use the memories of an immortal but can't understand what the "immortal" is saying, it would be a real waste.

"Hopefully, those thirty Sorcerer's Memory have Elder Speech in their memories..."

Ailin thought to himself.

The mysterious White Frost had always been a thorn in his side, and now that he finally had the chance to unveil its secrets, it felt as if a mischievous monkey was tickling him.

"Huh?"

The Greater Griffin seemed to sense his emotions, and bent its head, letting out a soft, puzzled cry.

The howling, icy wind immediately followed her tilted head, blowing through the empty space and instantly cooling down Ailin's brain, which had been heated by the harvest.

An overwhelming fatigue washed over me, and my mind was even more foggy than before the settlement was completed.

This made him instinctively grip the mane tightly.

"It's alright, Good Girl, keep flying."

After reassuring himself with a thought, Ailin could no longer resist the overwhelming sleepiness and closed his eyes.

However, before he fell into a deep sleep (or coma), two questions suddenly came to mind.

"Ten sorcerers died, so weren't Ban Ade's male sorcerers reduced to only two due to various factors?"

in addition...

"I... won't fall from the sky..."

The world turned upside down in an instant, Ailin fainted hundreds of meters in the air.

"Huh?"

Burning Ban Ad in the northern forest.

"How could there be nothing there?"

"Lord Miguel..."

"How could there be nothing left?"

"Miguel!"

The man, dressed in rags and covered in burns, knelt on the ground and suddenly raised his head from a clump of dark mud, clutching the robes of another standing sorcerer as if grasping at a straw.

"Vilgefortz, they were right here, so why is everything gone? Why?"

Vilgefortz appearance was slightly better Miguel's but was still equally disheveled, glanced down at his tattered star robe that had been grabbed and frowned almost imperceptibly.

He took a deep breath, looked at Miguel whose features were contorted and whose eyes were bloodshot, and explained softly:

"This is the epicenter of the explosion; the temperature here is even higher than the dwarves' furnace. Nothing can survive here..."

Miguel's forehead veins bulged as he clenched his fist and interrupted:

"You mean, I brought eleven people, and ten died... three high-ranking wizards from three different schools... the backbone of seven factions, and I can't even bring back a decent explanation?!"

Vilgefortz remained silent, just staring at him expressionlessly.

"Whoosh—hiss—whoosh—hiss—"

Miguel breathed heavily, like a wounded wild beast.

It took him a while to realize what he was doing, and his gaze, which had been fixed on Vilgefortz, gradually lowered.

He looked around blankly.

All that remained before me was desolate ruins and the remnants of nature.

"Oh my god... what have I done?"

"How am I supposed to report this to Senne? How am I supposed to face Dean Henry Gedimidis, Vilgefortz ..."

Miguel seemed to have suddenly lost all his energy and spirit, and collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Vilgefortz did not answer.

Not only because he didn't have an answer either, but also because what Miguel needed wasn't an answer; the answer was already in his heart.

The man in front of me, who seemed to have lost everything, was just venting, nothing more.

"Quinn may not be dead."

"No," Miguel said without looking up, "He must be dead. Quinn is not one to be afraid of a fight."

"Perhaps he's just unconscious?"

Miguel shook his head, but didn't explain further.

Vilgefortz felt that time was dragging on.

He didn't really care about the lives or deaths of these Radical Faction; he didn't even care about the survival of Ben Ade.

But in his plan, the Ban Ad Academy was indispensable, and these people were also essential.

Even though he now has new plans, his focus is gradually shifting, even though Ben Ade seems to have been abandoned by the goddess of fate, with misfortunes constantly befalling him and he suddenly showing signs of decline, even though the so-called Radical Faction have just suffered great losses...

Three Advanced Council members, seven intermediate members...

Perhaps they comprise half of the entire Radical Faction's power...

No!

At the moment when Ban Ad was suffering from the Battle of Burning City, it was certainly more than half.

but...

As long as Hen Gedimidis lives, Ben Ade will always be at the heart of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers.

The Radical Faction's ideas completely catered to the prevailing trends within the academy, and even if there were many losses this time, they would be made up for in no time.

after all...

Who among those wielding sharp blades would willingly become the lackeys of mortal nobles, at their beck and call?

As for whether nobles were born of noble birth and of high blood...

Who... knows better than the wizards?

This is the general trend!

Therefore, the current seemingly declining and lowest point for Radical Faction is actually their opportunity.

As for the threat from the Wild Hunt...

"Chaos is a stepping stone to advancement."

A surge of thought coursed through Vilgefortz's mind.

He looked down at Miguel.

As a close friend of Radical Faction leader Senne, no matter how big a mistake he makes, once the storm has passed, he will still be the absolute core of the Radical Faction.

Besides, was this setback really his fault?

"Perhaps..." he began, seemingly hesitant.

"What?"

"Perhaps there is another way that can yield results..."

"What!" Before Vilgefortz could finish speaking, Miguel immediately stood up, his bloodshot eyes looking at him expectantly, as if he had grasped at the last straw.

"Since it's something the Wild Hunt risked their lives to steal from the Academy, it probably won't really explode and turn to ashes."

Miguel frowned. "You mean?"

Vilgefortz raised his hand and pointed behind him:

"I don't think he did nothing but hide in the woods after being repelled by the Wild Hunt Lord named Eredin, just waiting to take us down with him."

"That's it!" Miguel swallowed hard, his eyes lighting up instantly, gleaming. "'Complete your mission, coward!' He has a mission... he has a mission..."

Miguel stood there, excitedly waving his arms and legs.

"We might not be able to find it," Vilgefortz quickly tried to calm him down, "But...we can give it a try, what do you think, Lord Miguel?"

"I understand." Miguel took a deep breath and calmed himself down. "Thank you for your help, Vilgefortz."

"It's what I should do." Vilgefortz smiled, chanted a few incantations, and then waved his metal staff.

A ball of light appeared instantly.

Although the Wild Hunt had already self-destructed, the scorching flames burned everything around him to ashes.

But his traces are found all over this desolate ruin.

The Stars of Ilar quickly gathered the necessary traces and drifted into the gloomy darkness of the dense forest.

However, out of caution, or perhaps out of lingering fear.

The two wizards worked together, using their most powerful defensive spells before they began to move forward, and they were extremely careful the whole way.

About half an hour later, they followed the Stars of Ilar to a birch tree.

"Exquisite magic!"

"That monster must have used magic to disguise itself, but it still couldn't escape your miraculous magic!"

"Finally, I can give an explanation to Senne."

Miguel, gazing at the glowing illusion, earnestly promised Vilgefortz, saying:

"At the year-end conference, we will do everything in our power to secure you a seat on the Advanced Council... not just everything... I will also use my own connections. Although we belong to different factions, we have quite a few friends within the academy..."

After Vilgefortz expressed his gratitude, their gazes returned to the Wild Hunt, which was formed from the white mist.

I watched helplessly as he buried a stone in the ground.

Miguel's eyes lit up immediately. As soon as the spell ended, he knelt down and tried to dig out the stone.

However...

Just as his hand was about to plunge into the soil, he suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?" Vilgefortz asked.

"This place... has been disturbed..."