The Living Yama

What's he in such a hurry for?

He's anxious about everything—

Male sorcerer, nobleman, Wild Hunt, White Frost...

Which of these doesn't require ability?

Time is of the essence!

If he were to actually travel back to Geralt's era, with only a handful of School of the Wolf who were simply unable to rise to the occasion and could not compete with the various forces, he could simply give up and do nothing.

After all, with monsters becoming increasingly scarce, even if an ordinary witcher possesses the same Witcher's Handbook, can he handle a large army? Can he handle a warlock? Can he handle the Wild Hunt?

If none of those work, then there's no need to mention White Frost.

Why not hunt monsters when you have something to do to make a living, and when you don't have anything to do, do some staking work, ride unicorns, and enjoy the long life of an immortal?

But now, thanks to his influence and efforts, the king is dead, the nobles are fighting on the front lines, the wizard has been severely wounded by the Wild Hunt, and the Wild Hunt has firmly tied its hatred to the wizard...

The situation is extremely favorable.

The School of the Wolf has been fortunate to have gained considerable time for recuperation and development.

The Witcher revival is in sight!

If we can use this time to strengthen our school, we'll have a chance to confront not only the wizards and nobles, but also the Wild Hunt.

With hope comes a sense of urgency.

With trepidation and treading on thin ice, every minute and second of this hard-won time is naturally precious.

However, seeing the tears in the little priest's eyes, Ailin opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.

All he could do was look at Vesemir with pleading eyes.

Vesemir shrugged, indicating that he was powerless to help.

"Okay, I understand." Ailin could only nod in agreement. "I'll get out of bed once I've fully recovered."

"That's right, I'm a priestess from Meritellie, I wouldn't lie to you." The little priestess beamed.

"You're an apprentice priest," Ailin corrected, "You're not a priestess of Meritellie yet..."

The junior priest's face fell, and he glared at Ailin: "An apprentice priest is still a priest, and I'll be one soon!"

Looking at the beautiful face so close to him, her moods shifting because of him, Ailin sighed helplessly in her heart:

Fine, I'll take a few days off then.

Aside from being a bit torturous and tedious, opening ' The Sorcerer's Memory ' every day and listening to lectures isn't bad... right?

"Cough cough~"

Vesemir coughed lightly, indicating that there were other people in the room.

The young priest and Ailin looked over at the sound and saw, apart from Vesemir, a group of twelve or thirteen-year-old witchers, quietly stacked on top of each other, peering at the two of them with an extremely difficult movement that only witchers could do, like curious children.

The priest's face immediately turned red.

"I'll go deliver the food basket."

She spoke in a very low voice, almost too softly for even the perceptive Ailin to hear clearly, before hurriedly running away.

As soon as she opened the door, she turned back and reminded me, "Don't forget what you promised me. Get some rest and don't drink any magic potions."

"I understand." Ailin nodded helplessly.

"Bang!"

The wooden door was gently closed.

"Don't look at me like that," Vesemir said, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently rubbing Ailin's head. "You can't mess with a woman when she's emotional, especially when she's still reasonable. I know that all too well."

"Tell me more?"

"No," Vesemir shook his head. "You're too young to know this."

"Too young? Even Witcher Master can't hear any secrets?"

"No," Vesemir said meaningfully. "Autumn is coming soon, and winter is not far behind. Turning into a leech in the cold is not a pleasant experience."

Ailin: Hmm?

Vesemir's signature spell is the Leech Transfiguration Spell.

He seemed to have heard something incredible.

"Alright, let's not talk about that nonsense," Vesemir said seriously. "What happened last night? Didn't you say you were just going to take a look?"

Ailin didn't rush to speak, but instead glanced behind Vesemir.

Seven young witchers were watching him intently.

"You all go back first. Don't linger and get some rest," Vesemir commanded, turning his head.

The young witcher immediately began to complain.

"We want to hear it too, Commander."

"Yes, aren't we all family members of the Witcher Company? How could family members have secrets from each other?"

"Yeah yeah!"

Ailin wasn't angry; she asked with a smile, "You want to know?"

"Of course." The young witchers' eyes lit up.

Ailin chuckled twice, "When you're no longer being turned into statues and are still fast asleep, completely unaware, I'll tell you everything I know."

The demon hunters' faces fell, their eyes filled with resentment.

"Hahaha~" Vesemir laughed, "Ailin is right, who would believe a lazy and playful brat like you? You're not going back, you're here right here to train him."

"Kray, go and have a sword fight with Aias, especially your footwork. Ordinary Ghoul can slip away from your swords. Can you still call yourselves witchers..."

"Ernie, you practice the Quen Sign, Klar practice the Igni Sign. You both have talent in these two signs..."

"And Hugh, Spencer..."

With just a few words, Vesemir had arranged things perfectly for a group of young witchers.

"Bang!"

After the wooden door closed, sounds of fighting and practice soon came from outside.

Vesemir turned his gaze from the doorway to Ailin.

Ailin pondered for a moment, then said softly, "Last night, I killed a Wild Hunt!"

"Killed what?" Vesemir wondered if he had misheard, tilting his head to ask again.

"Wild Hunt..."

Wild Hunt?

Vesemir was stunned for a moment, her eyes unconsciously lingering on Ailin's face, as if trying to figure out if he was joking with her.

He had heard the name Wild Hunt many times in his life.

Most of them are found in the old poems of third-rate bards in taverns, merely as non-essential items to accompany fine wine and red lips, leaving little impression.

After all, he was a demon hunter, and his targets were real, flesh-and-blood monsters.

It's not from mythology or legend.

That is an obstacle for the Witcher to complete the mission, an obstacle created by the dull villagers' explanations of the incomprehensible, their shirking of responsibility, and their cover-up of evil. It will lead the Witcher away from the real goal and unknowingly into unknown dangers.

Until the Gors Velen, the legend came true.

A legend he had never met brought him to the brink of death.

He remembered it clearly, not a single step more or less.

If it weren't for his apprentice's explanation, it might even have thought it was divine punishment, even from Evil God.

Then came Arland, half of the city engulfed in flames. Even though he found a lot of information and heard the apprentice's meticulous explanation, he was still deeply affected.

But honestly, in his heart, did he really dethrone the Wild Hunt?

No!

Never!

Such power could destroy a city with ease. Alzure, the creator of the Witcher, did not have such an easy time. Although he once destroyed half of Maribor with a spell, he himself died at that time from the spell he cast.

Wild Hunt...

The Wild Hunt so easily unleashed spells even more terrifying than any divine punishment in history.

If it's not a god, then what is it?

"Really...uh...I mean you're really sure..." Vesemir's pupils dilated in shock, and he blurted out the wrong thing.

"Really." Ailin said seriously, "But that's because those two Wild Hunt were seriously injured before I encountered them."

"And Ben Ade's wizard also did me a big favor at the time."

Even now, when Ailin thinks back on it, he still feels a little scared.

To be honest, considering Parnovius Wild Hunt's ability to block his sudden sneak attack on the first strike, and the strength he displayed later, it was quite remarkable.

After killing Sera with [Demon Hunter], can Ailin really finish off Parnovius with [Demon Hunter] again while he's in a frenzy?

Ailin didn't know.

This probably really depends on luck.

It all depends on whether Parnovius enters the "self-immolation" state first, or whether the progress of [Demon Hunting] is completed first.

Therefore, the wizards of Ban Aard College did him a great favor by risking their lives.

"Huh?" Vesemir scratched his head. "Ban Ade the wizard helped you?"

Although it was the common language, he felt that each sentence Ailin spoke was more and more unfamiliar to him.

"Is it that Vilgefortz we met before?" Vesemir thought of a possibility.

"Vilgefortz is here, but not him... uh... not any male wizard..." Ailin said, "Never mind, let me start from the beginning..."

He lowered his head and pondered for a few seconds, then quietly recounted his journey on the Greater Griffin to Ban Ade, from seeing the entire city on fire to deciding to land and find out what was going on...

Apart from the part about being guided by fate (which Ailin omitted for certain reasons, only saying it was an accidental discovery), he recounted almost the entire process.

Vesemir's "closeness" to him was already quite high; aside from those things that were too deeply involved with the Witcher's Handbook, there was almost nothing he couldn't tell him.

Vesemir's expression changed rapidly as Ailin narrated.

The mention of the entire city of Ban Ade being engulfed in flames evokes shock and a profound sense of sorrow for the plight of its inhabitants.

He frowned when he heard that Ailin had decided to land.

Upon hearing that he wanted to infiltrate Ban Ad, he frowned and opened his mouth, but ultimately did not interrupt.

It wasn't until he heard that Ailin had found two Wild Hunt trails and decided to follow them that he exclaimed in alarm, "You're incredibly bold!"

Finally, he heard that, under Ailin's "diversionary tactic," Parnovius first unleashed a barrage of fireballs, then self-destructed, ultimately causing the pursuing Ban Ade wizard to be wiped out ten out of twelve.

Vesemir instinctively leaned back, looking at him with a very complicated expression.

Twelve minus ten is not much different from total annihilation.

Those who can be driven to track the Wild Hunt and stand alongside the Source Vilgefortz, must be male wizards from the upper echelons of Ban Ade.

First the Wild Hunt, then Ailin...

Vesemir had some doubts: were there really any people left in the current Ban Ade Academy?

Even though he already thought highly of Ailin, he never expected that he could actually do this.

Thinking of what Ailin had just said, Vesemir clicked his tongue.

Wasn't it Ben Ade the wizard who did him a huge favor?

Although they were not acting voluntarily...

"What's wrong?" Ailin asked curiously, feeling the mixed emotions in Erin's gaze.

"No wonder you said last night, 'Ban Ade will never be a threat again'..." Vesemir said.

Did I say that last night?

Ailin paused, then he heard Vesemir let out a long sigh and say meaningfully:

"I wonder who came up with the nickname 'Blue Death'? It just so happens that it was given to the right person."

"Vesemir!" Ailin's face darkened.

"Hahaha~" Vesemir laughed heartily.

After the laughter stopped, he patted his shoulder with a serious expression and said solemnly:

"Don't take such risks next time. I only allowed you to go because you said you were just going to take a look. Now you're not only seriously injured, but you almost didn't make it back."

"Don't do this again next time, otherwise I really won't feel comfortable letting you pass the trials."

"I understand, Vesemir," Ailin said, his attitude of admitting his mistake was very good.

"I'm serious." With his experience, Vesemir could easily tell that this was a case of someone who was very good at admitting their mistake, but was stubbornly unrepentant.

He rarely gave Ailin a cold look and rebuked her:

"Think about it, what have you gained by ending up with these serious injuries?"

"The warlock is dead, the Wild Hunt is dead, and then what?"

You got nothing!

Vesemir's voice suddenly rose. "Ailin, you got nothing!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the sounds of fighting and practice outside suddenly subsided.

Vesemir glanced out the window, took a deep breath, and then said softly:

"No matter how many dead Ban Aard wizards and Wild Hunt members there are, how could they possibly be more important to the school than your life?"

"Even if we don't consider the schools of thought, think of Huus, Bont, and Fred; think of Lady Vesemir; think of Mary; think of... Lyra ..."

"How heartbroken would they be if you died?"

"When a person dies, everything is gone..."

The candlelight flickered, casting hazy, dreamlike shadows that illuminated the narrow little house with distinct layers.

Ailin remained silent for a few seconds before solemnly nodding, breaking the tranquility of the cabin.

"I understand, Vesemir."

Vesemir nodded and didn't press the matter further.

Ultimately, could Vesemir really force Ailin's will against someone who could manipulate powerful sorcerers and the godlike Wild Hunt?

Perhaps the turbulent emotions were still stirring up waves, but the cabin fell into calm again.

Until Ailin suddenly remembered something and asked:

"Before leaving, Lord Eredin Brick Glass of the Wild Hunt Lord left behind a single sentence..."

"... The Red Riders is very 'satisfied' with your hospitality. We will definitely return with 'generous gifts' after our souls have been reincarnated twice, to reclaim our precious treasure..."

"Vesemir, do you know what 'after the soul has been reincarnated twice' means?"

"After two soul reincarnations..." Vesemir frowned.

At this moment.

Good night, High Priest Ianna.

"Good night, Priestess Nannick."

Outside the cabin, the sound of the witcher training suddenly stopped, and a series of greetings came from outside.

"Good night, little ones," Ianna said.

"Squeak~"

The wooden door opened.

Seeing the two witchers, one big and one small, frowning inside the room, Ianna asked curiously:

"What's wrong?"