The Long-lived Race's Bewilderment! Beauclair!

Ailin certainly knew.

The rule of the Elves in Toussaint ended in 781, after lasting for more than 1,500 years, and the era of the Mountain Folk officially came to an end in that year.

When the human army pressed in, the elves abandoned their homes where they had lived for hundreds of years, taking all their belongings and destroying everything else, and went to the deep mountains.

Dufusov, the last Elf King of the Mountain Folk, was captured alive by Ludovic, the first human king of Toussaint.

In the castle the elves had just abandoned, before the bodies of his eternally youthful brothers and sisters, the proud Elven King wept and bowed before the human king, offering bread and wine as a symbol of sacrifice, along with his sword and shield.

Then, after being mocked by Ludovic, he kissed his feet, swore allegiance to him, and was taken by the guards to the palace gate, where he was thrown down the steps like a beggar.

The pride and dignity of the Mountain Folk were shattered at this moment, scattered and beyond repair.

It is said that the proud Elf King remained calm throughout, but when Dufusov was alone, he wiped the blood from his face and vowed to exact a cruel revenge on the king, determined to be no less ruthless than Ludovic.

Unfortunately, whether this is true or not, the Witcher world has never seen a turning point like "the three thousand Yue soldiers who endured hardship and humiliation were able to conquer Wu".

The following year, before Dufusov pledged allegiance again, the humans of Toussaint massacred the non-human races to celebrate the anniversary of the Elvenking's surrender, and Dufusov and his remaining soldiers breathed their last.

From then on, the Mountain Folk never united again, nor did they ever appear as a nation again.

The history of the elves began its complete decline at this point.

Before 782, there were frequent wars between elves and humans.

But since then, the elves have retreated again and again, and have never won again.

The site of Toussaint's massacre of the inhuman race was in the Gorgon Mountain.

Ailin reflected on this history and looked around.

There are no monuments, no tombstones, and no eerie, menacing plants here. It is difficult to see the bloodshed hidden in history from the lush, thriving woodlands around you.

A small hill covered in vegetation may be more vibrant and beautiful than anywhere in Kedwen or Temeria, but in Toussaint, it is just an ordinary little hill, nothing more.

At least that's how it is for Ailin.

Let's go.

Ada Emin clearly didn't intend to evoke empathy from a witcher. After gazing intently in a certain direction in the woods, she led the way.

The female elf was naturally very familiar with this place.

In the dense forest where all the scenery looked remarkably similar, there was no looking up at the sky to discern the direction of the blazing sun, nor any bending down to caress the annual rings of broken, withered trees.

We waded across a crystal-clear stream, stepping on pebbles, and then crossed an oak forest.

As a gentle breeze, as soft as a lover's whisper, caressed my cheek, everything seemed to clear up like the clouds parting to reveal the blue sky, and everything became clear and bright.

It was a flowing oil painting.

The main color is light green, with a jewel-like light blue flowing like silk in the painting, interspersed with seas of flowers in purple, pink, or blue, and small houses with bright orange tiled roofs.

White smoke curled up from the orange cottage, blending into the soft, cotton-like clouds in the azure sky.

The fairy tale kingdom is not a figurative language at this moment, but a real and existing reality.

Vesemir's illusion was already beautiful, but when they actually arrived in Toussaint, they realized that an illusion is just an illusion, forever lacking the finishing touch of the great Creator.

As Ailin was once again awestruck by the breathtaking scenery of Toussaint, Ida Emin did not linger but continued downhill into another oak grove.

After regaining his senses, Ailin quickly followed after him.

Gradually, the sounds of people and horses became clearer. Beyond two lush oak trees, a large, crystal-clear lake came into view, its surface as smooth as a mirror. People were coming and going on the path along the lake.

Merchants, farmers, women, children, and even more striking are the knights with gleaming armor, family crests, and heads held high.

Ailin knew this was a specialty of Toussaint —the knights of the Duchy's Guard.

Just as he was carefully observing the painting before him, Ada Emin, with her distinctive elf Long-ears, was caught off guard and hurriedly left the oak forest, heading towards the bustling path.

Ailin paused for a moment, then followed. "You're just going to go like this?"

"Or what?" Ada Emin brushed the wind-blown strands of hair from her forehead behind her long ears.

That face, which would be considered exceptionally beautiful even among elves, was exposed to the dazzling sunlight.

She walked onto the path, and the bustling crowds naturally noticed her. Many people's eyes were immediately drawn to her graceful and beautiful figure in the sunlight.

However, contrary to Ailin's expectations, she wasn't met with hostility or screams; instead...

"My beautiful lady, I am Elvis of the House Cortese. May I ask your name?"

The knight on the white horse, amidst the cheers of his companions, removed his helmet, revealing a head of beautiful blond hair and a handsome face.

When Ailin saw this, he raised an eyebrow.

Miss...

Aida Emin is probably older than the ancestor on your family tree.

"No need." Ada Emin glanced at Ailin and gave him a polite smile.

The knight who claimed to be from the House Cortese, Elvis, did not pursue the matter.

He noticed Ailin's presence, nodded in acknowledgment, then smiled casually, put his helmet back on, and continued his patrol past his companions amidst their laughter.

"Isn't that strange?" Ada Emin suddenly asked.

"A little," Ailin admitted.

Many countries in the Northern Continent have softened their attitudes toward elves, but hostility and discrimination remain the norm.

For example, Kedwen, for example, Redania...

In comparison, Temeria, the largest country on the Northern Continent, is one of the best countries in terms of its treatment of non-human races.

After all, Kedwen and Redania are his neighboring countries. Given the long-standing border friction, the enemy country, if it dislikes something, will at least not oppose it, let alone advocate for it.

Moreover, as non-human races, Mahakam, where dwarves live, is located within the territory and is also the largest supplier of arms and a source of soldiers for Temeria.

To avoid alienating allies and causing them to feel a sense of shared loss, we can still maintain some basic principles.

More importantly, there are no large communities of elves within the borders of Temeria, only scattered elves.

Therefore, many peace-loving elves live in Temeria, and he has seen many of them in Arland.

However, the behavior of ordinary people who become nobles is still one of rejection.

It was nothing like the natural scene in Toussaint today, where elves were simply pretty or beautiful humans to them.

"Because of time."

Ada Emin walked through the slightly crowded throng, and said softly with a touch of melancholy:

"The emotions of short-lived species are always fleeting; love and hate disappear quickly and completely."

"While the Mountain Folk are secretly watching their enemies with hatred, several generations of humankind have already passed by without them noticing, and they have long forgotten this hatred."

"It's just like when the Mountain Folk first encountered humans..."

"We accept humans who are as vulnerable as infants, build settlements for them, impart knowledge to them, protect their safety, and are also loved and respected by them as they would their parents."

"But in the blink of an eye, the infant has grown into a man, plunging a sharp blade into his mother's heart..."

"It's funny to think about it."

"The place that extinguished the hope of the rise of Ain Siddi and shattered the dignity of the ancient race was actually the place on the entire continent that was least prejudiced against the Mountain Folk."

Ada Emin sounded somewhat bewildered.

Perhaps someone like Ian Siddy, who has watched the world turn for hundreds of years, often thinks, reflects, tries to piece together past memories, and frequently asks herself, "What if I hadn't done that?", "What if I had been harsher on them?", "What if I hadn't been so kind in the first place?"

But ultimately, no answer was found.

Because humans are "ungrateful," they accepted the gifts and protection of the Mountain Folk, which allowed them to take root on this continent, but they betrayed their benefactors.

But looking closely at the details, focusing on each individual, those who received the favor were already taken away by time in the time it takes for the Long-lived race to take a nap.

When they awoke, they were met with familiar yet unfamiliar faces yearning for plunder, slaughter, and war.

They are, of course, human, but they are not the same kind of people that Ian Siddi knew.

The real benefactor and enemy are both long dead, so revenge and repayment are out of the question.

It's difficult for grudges and affections to become related to human beings anymore.

What remains for the Mountain Folk now is perhaps a huge mess of accounts and a desire to ensure the continuation of their tribe.

In fact, those familiar yet unfamiliar faces all have the blood of the Mountain Folk flowing in their veins.

So, in essence, it is the descendants of the Mountain Folk rebelling against their ancestors.

How should we deal with this situation?

Is this considered internal strife or external threat?

Ailin thought about it and found the logic and ethics involved to be incredibly complicated.

So he didn't say anything.

Ian Siddy didn't expect him to express his opinion, and after muttering to himself for a while, he fell silent.

The two then spent some money and boarded a caravan to Beauclair.

Feeling a bit bored sitting in the carriage, Ada Emin casually transmitted her thoughts to Ailin:

"Thomas Moruet gave us the coordinates clearly, but we can't teleport there directly..."

"Are you worried that the coordinates you found might be a trap?"

"It's possible, but unlikely," Ada Emin said, not angry at the questioning. "The last time he went back to the lab was fourteen years ago."

"It wasn't that long ago, but it still had a significant impact."

"For example, gargoyles going out of control, geological strata shifting, traps and mechanisms being triggered uncontrollably..."

"Experiments buried underground and neglected for years pose a danger from all directions."

"The entrance to Thomas Moru's laboratory is located at the bottom of the Sansidore River, right next to Beauclair, not far from here."

"The difference is only half a day, there's no need to take such a big risk."

"But Soyer ..." Ailin hesitated.

Ada Emin looked him straight in the eye and interrupted, "Shouldn't you be more worried about whether the so-called Second Mutation can heal him than whether Soyer's injuries will deteriorate drastically in the past half day?"

Ailin fell silent; he wasn't entirely confident that the Second Mutation could heal Soyer's injuries.

He was just speculating, or rather, trying anything as a last resort.

Of course, he couldn't possibly tell this to the knowledgeable person in front of him, Ian Siddi.

then.

"How did you recognize me in Ban Ade?" he changed the subject. "Did you predict that I would appear in Ban Ade at that time?"

Ida Emin gave him a deep look, but didn't press the issue further:

"No one can predict the Child of Miracle. Fate conceals your whereabouts, leaving you blank in divination and prophecy. So naturally, I cannot either."

"Then why?"

"Because I've seen you, Ailin," Ada Emin said. "Thirteen years ago, Vesemir came to me with you in her arms, asking me to predict your future, desperately trying to defy fate..."

"Wait a minute," Ailin frowned as he listened, interrupting, "You just said that no one could predict my future, so how could you recognize me thirteen years later just because of that one meeting thirteen years ago?"

"That's right," Ada Emin nodded, "But 'blank' is also an outcome. I can't predict you or see fragments of your future directly, but I can see 'blank' in the crystal ball from other people's divination."

"Thirteen years ago, I saw Vesemir in her future, holding the 'blank' in her arms, as she came to Kaer Morhen."

"Thirteen years later, I saw you and Vesemir in Ban Ade. It was normal to divine Vesemir's purpose for coming, but I could not divine your future."

"Of course I know who 'you' are..."

Ailin's expression was not good.

Wouldn't that mean that if one could divine his existence but not find out his existence, they would know his identity as the "Child of Miracle"?

"Don't worry."

Ida Emin seemed to have guessed what he was thinking and comforted him:

"A newly emerged witcher apprentice has no need to hide his trajectory in the river of fate."

"But it's not surprising that a Witcher Master who has risen to fame but made enemies on all sides, and who also has a Sorceress mentor who Alchemy Master, would go into hiding."

"There are many ways to block divination, so others won't be able to divine for you and will just think you've become wary."

Upon hearing this, Ailin breathed a sigh of relief.

But just as he opened his mouth to ask something else, a sudden inspiration struck him, and he thought of the Source Vilgefortz.

More than a month ago, Vilgefortz and Lydia van Bradwater were able to find them, which must have been done using divination or similar spells and rituals.

Did Vilgefortz discover his special qualities back then?

"What's wrong?" Ida Emin asked.

Before Ailin could even offer a perfunctory reply, the carriage, which had been rolling along, suddenly stopped.

"Distinguished guests, Beauclair has arrived."