A Contested Identity! A Favor!

The ultimate truth of all things...

Ailin's gaze was fixed on Tissaia de Veres' face.

With names that encompass both all things and ultimate truths, such arrogant and haughty names are most likely associated with sorcerers.

Tissaia de Veres felt Ailin's gaze, hesitated for a moment, and explained:

"The Grand Principle Merchant Guild is a chamber of commerce affiliated with the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. It was originally founded by the legendary mages of the Talent and Skill Association in order to obtain funding for researching spells and to put their research results into practice."

"Later, after the Brotherhood of Sorcerers was founded, the legendary mages of the Talent and Skill Association also established their own factions. The Grand Principle Merchant Guild was basically affiliated with the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, selling some of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers's stable and harmless research results, and collecting and producing the raw materials, utensils, and experimental equipment needed by the warlocks..."

"So..." Ailin sensed something and frowned.

Philippa Ehrhardt explained on behalf of her mentor:

"The Grand Principle Merchant Guild itself does not have a very obvious identity, and over the years, the people in charge of the Grand Principle Merchant Guild have not only been sorcerers, but also kings and nobles from many countries. It is difficult to find the perpetrator based on this clue."

"For example, Aretuza," Agatha interjected with interest, "And the Temeria royal family."

She glanced at Duke Mason.

"Silver Lilies do indeed have an interest in the Grand Principle Merchant Guild," Duke Mason did not deny. "Several of the larger countries on the Northern Continent have them, and within the aristocratic circles, the Grand Principle Merchant Guild's share is the highest-level currency."

Ianna scoffed, "Then keep asking."

"I don't believe that some despicable person hiding behind the scenes would make such a big fuss just to hide a flawless chamber of commerce."

Tissaia de Veres nodded and then asked:

"Who from the Grand Principle Merchant Guild commissioned you?"

"I don't know him." Evans paused, then said with difficulty, "The Grand Principle Merchant Guild arrived in the evening, but he did not show up."

"As night fell, after the banquet for the Chamber of Commerce ended, I returned to my room and saw him wearing a hood, hiding in the shadows in the corner of the room."

"Five Witchers. He promised that if I killed five Witchers, he would arrange for me to become the Chief of the Royal Guard Knight and gain entry into the court of Tretog."

Ianna and Duke Mason exchanged a glance and frowned.

A Royal Guard Knight Commander capable of operating a royal guard, even though Redania is no longer protected by the Royal Guard due to the Falga's Rebellion and other reasons.

The royal guards were still quite close to the king, making it an unfavorable position.

"How can you be sure he's telling the truth?" Tissaia de Veres was clearly aware of the problem as well.

Evans isn't stupid; why would he believe everything and take such a risk just because the visitor is from the Grand Principle Merchant Guild?

"Because...because..." Evans's voice began to falter, "Because of a family crest..."

"What kind of badge?" Tissaia de Veres pressed.

"I...I forgot." Evans looked bewildered.

"No, you remember!" A golden-purple light flashed again in Tissaia de Veres's pupils.

Ailin seemed to see a series of pulsating images in that light.

At a certain moment, the scene suddenly freezes...

"Boom!"

A dark red magical glow suddenly ignited on Evans's body, and violent elemental fluctuations surged into the sky.

"Hmph~"

Tissaia de Veres, who was prepared, snorted coldly again.

The renewed strong winds did not fuel the fire; instead, they extinguished the soaring dark red glow, as if oxygen had been depleted.

Ah~

A piercing scream echoed from the void as a semi-transparent, dark red parchment was blown away from Evans's body by a gale.

The parchment was covered with various magical patterns and etched text, but the magical patterns were clearly not conventional ritual symbols, and the text was not the Elder Speech commonly used in magic, nor was it a common language of mankind, but a strange and unfamiliar script.

Twisted, grotesque, and evil, at first glance, the patterns and words seem not to be made of ink, but rather woven with negative emotions, with intense malice flowing out.

However, before it could exert a greater influence on the people in the reception room.

"Whoosh~"

The moment the golden-purple light appeared at the bottom of the parchment, it was as if it had encountered the best accelerant in the world, instantly burning the parchment to ashes.

A stench of sulfur and charred corpses assaulted the senses.

"The aura of the devil."

Tissaia de Veres waved her hand in disgust, and a gentle breeze caressed everyone's faces, replacing the stench with the fresh scent of oak and citrus.

"Mentor, devil..." Philippa Ehrhardt hesitated, unable to finish her sentence.

Tissaia de Veris casually smoothed her wind-blown hair. "The merchants who want to kill witchers and the Conclave of Sorcerers ' forbidden demonic knowledge go hand in hand, don't they?"

In the world of Witcher, "demon" can refer to almost any alien creature summoned from another world, not the opposite of "devil." So, although this statement sounds a bit strange to Ailin, it is not wrong.

Vesemir and Dante exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions stern.

For the first time, they realized the true worth of Tissaia de Veris, the foremost Sorceress of the Northern Continent.

Witchers travel far and wide, and they have naturally heard of demonic contracts, but they have never heard of anyone being able to separate a contract from the body of a contractor.

The knowledge of demons and devils... Ailin watched this scene with a sense of lingering fear.

Fortunately, after capturing Evans, they did not rush to interrogate him, and Tissaia de Veres was at the Temple of Melitele.

Otherwise, it would be fine if he didn't find out anything. But once he found out the truth, he wouldn't be able to resolve the devil's contract on Evans like Tissaia de Veres did.

They might even get injured if caught off guard, since simply silencing them wouldn't require two such powerful magical fluctuations.

"Well--"

Although the contract failed to silence them and was expelled by Tissaia de Veris's exquisite magic, it was clear that it did cause some damage.

At this moment, Evans resembled a shattered piece of porcelain, cracked all over. Blood seeped from the cracks, staining the chiffon lining red.

His face was so distorted that Evans was almost unrecognizable, even uglier than Ghoul.

Prominent cheekbones, crooked teeth, bulging right eye...

Although he was in a daze under Tissaia de Veres's mental control and did not scream, his breathing slowed down, and his life was rapidly slipping away.

He's dying.

"I have memorized the characteristics of the emblem..."

With a wave of her hand, Tissaia de Veres displayed a black acorn emblem on gold diagonal stripes before everyone.

It was placed on a table, with a rough, calloused hand resting beside it.

"Golden background with diagonal stripes...a military noble who defended the territory of Kedwen ...black...wisdom and restraint...acorn..." Duke Mason frowned as he recalled, "In heraldry, this should be a sorcerer of Kedwen noble birth..."

He looked at Tissaia de Veres.

Tissaia de Veris shrugged. "I don't remember the sorcerers' family crests."

"I can check," Philippa Ehrhardt volunteered. "The one who could convince Evans couldn't be some low-level sorcerer. It's easy to find out."

Tissaia de Veres looked at her apprentice, then at Ailin, and smiled with satisfaction:

"That's perfect, then I'll leave this matter to you and Ailin, anyway..."

"You'll have to cooperate sooner or later."

Tissaia de Veres' tone was meaningful, but before anyone else could ask, she glanced at Evans: "Any other questions? Hurry up..."

"Homage to the Mother of All Things, Goddess of fertility, harvest and childbirth, eternal maiden, mother, and guardian of the old woman..." A devout, aged voice rang out beside her.

A golden light descended from the sky.

Evans ' injuries healed visibly, and more remarkably, he did not break free from Tissaia de Veres' mental control.

"No rush, ask slowly," Ianna glanced at Tissaia de Veres. "No one can play tricks or hide their thoughts in front of Tissaia de Veres, but similarly, this injury is no problem for the goddess's attendant."

Tissaia de Veres shrugged and said nothing.

Philippa Ehrert, however, was triggered by her woman's intuition and gave Ailin a strange look.

She always felt that the High Priest of the Temple of Melitele spoke as if he were jealous.

But is that even possible?

The temple leader, nearing the end of his lifespan, gets jealous of the Dean of Aretuza over a Witcher.

She glanced at Agatha beside her, Agatha also looked bewildered.

"That person's target isn't the School of the Wolf, nor the School of the Griffin, but all Witchers?" Ailin asked after thinking for a moment.

"Yes, all Witchers," Evans said.

Ailin gave Vesemir and Dante a look, and the two witchers thought for a moment and then shook their heads.

"Since that's the case..."

Just as Ailin was about to draw his longsword with his right hand, Ianna suddenly spoke up to stop him:

"This is the temple of Meritellie; punishment should be carried out by the goddess's attendants..."

Before he could finish speaking...

Smack!

A snap of the fingers.

"Thump~"

Evans collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

The reception room fell silent for a moment as a result.

Ianna looked at Tissaia de Veres with displeasure. "What are you doing?"

"For the sake of order, judge the guilty." Tissaia de Veres adjusted the ring on her hand, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Alright..."

She stood up from the high-backed chair, snapped her fingers, and summoned a portal.

"Duke Mason, shall we come with you?"

"Of course!" Mason glanced at Ailin, nodded, and was helped to his feet by Arthur and Sala.

Ailin quickly stepped forward. "Thank you, Duke Mason."

Mason patted Ailin on the shoulder and then pointed to the bare leather armor on his chest:

"If you're truly grateful, then wear your family crest, Ailin of Arland."

Ailin paused for a moment, then nodded vigorously. "I will."

Mason smirked and beckoned the bard Yevgeny Villard: "Let me see your records, then we can build a portal together to save you the long journey."

Yevgeny Villad bowed with delight and handed over the Chiffon Paper that had been prepared beforehand.

Ailin glanced around, and seeing that there were no problems, he walked past Philippa Ehrert and Agatha and came to Tissaia de Veres: "Ms. Tissaia, I..."

"Shh~" Tissaia de Veris put her slender finger to her lips. "You just came back from Drakkenberg and didn't sleep all night. Get some rest first."

"I'll come again tonight, and then I'll tell you your choice."

For some reason, Tissaia de Veres seemed certain of his choice, but Ailin clearly hadn't made up his mind yet.

Tissaia de Veres's favors to him and to the School of the Wolf were real, even if she herself said it was "only for the sake of order."

But for the sake of order, witnessing is enough.

Finally, the hatred of the witch Kedwen, who killed Evans, was originally the responsibility of Riedania, the Rissberg Civil Conglomerate, and the unknown but mostly the hatred of Tissaia de Veris and Aretuza.

Moreover, once it was recorded by the bard, it would be one-tenth more of what Ailin would receive, regardless of whether he agreed to rescue Hen Gedimidis or not.

This is an enormous favor.

"Thank you," Ailin said softly.

Tissaia de Veres winked with a smile and stepped into the portal first.

Agatha glanced at him curiously and followed closely behind.

Philippa Ehrhardt walked past him, opened her mouth as if to speak, but ultimately said nothing and left.

Ailin stared blankly at the portal, which was almost completely still, lost in thought.

"Ailin, there are always other ways to repay favors..." Ianna's voice came from behind.

Ailin gave a wry smile, about to say something.

The Witcher's keen senses suddenly picked up on a sound beside him, his ears twitched, and he turned his head to look.

Duke Mason was whispering instructions to Yevgeny Villard:

"Everything was fine up to the beginning, but there were some problems at the end..."

Yevgeny Villard quickly looked at the Chiffon Paper in front of him, which was covered with elegant cursive writing, but found nothing missing.

"Here," Mason pointed to the end, "The criminal was on the land of Arland, and the murderer was a friend of the lord of Arland's vassal. How could it possibly have been executed by the Sorceress of Aretuza?"

Yevgeny Villad paused, then said, "But..."

"Hmm?" Mason looked at him expressionlessly. "But what?"

Yevgeny Villad trembled with fright and chuckled awkwardly, "But... the corpse... the corpse is intact, only the magic remains..."

"No, you're mistaken," Mason shook his head. "He was beheaded, executed by Arthur in place of his lord."

Before he could finish speaking...

Arthur immediately stepped to the side, blocking Mason's path, and drew his sword to behead Evans, who was just a step away from Yevgeny Villard.

Blood splattered on the bard's face, but not on Mason's body.

Yevgeny Villad wiped the blood from his face in a daze, then nodded repeatedly. "Yes... yes... the criminal died under the just punishment of Lord Mason..."

"Very good." Mason nodded in satisfaction, then gestured to a servant to push the bard through the portal.

He didn't even glance at Ailin, who had a strange expression, or Ianna, whose every wrinkle revealed her dissatisfaction, as if he were afraid someone would snatch Yevgeny Villad away from him.

certainly.

Mason could ignore it, but Arthur, the captain of the Royal Guard who had beheaded Evans, stayed behind.

He bowed apologetically to Ianna and Nannick: "I apologize, High Priest Ianna, Priestess Nannick, I will arrange for someone to come here..."

"Get lost." Ianna waved her hand impatiently. "Someone will take care of the body. Also, tell that cunning old fox that this is not Arland's territory, but Meritellie's."

Arthur smiled apologetically again and did not argue.

He bowed again, then nodded to Ailin, Dante, and Vesemir before stepping into the portal.

"Bang!"

The portal disappeared.

Ailin looked at the spot where the portal had disappeared, then glanced at Ianna, whose face was full of resentment, and sighed softly in his heart.

"Human relationships..."