Chapter 270: 271. A Dying Man.
How could it not hurt?
That loud crashing sound could cause phantom pain in anyone who heard it...
The Witcher thought to himself.
But he didn't expose the little monster's lie. Instead, he sighed softly, reached out with his right hand, and rubbed the little monster's head, saying:"Alright, alright, it doesn't hurt... it doesn't hurt..."
With Mary's help, it took some time to soothe the little monster. The Witcher glanced at the still twitching black cloth, thought for a moment, and then stood up and asked Vera:"Lady Vera, could you please take Yennefer back to Kaer Morhen? This place is too..."
"I... I don't want to leave..." the little monster interrupted softly.
Not wanting to leave doesn't mean she won't leave...
The little monster still knew her limits. But before the Witcher could say anything to persuade her, Vera suddenly spoke up:"If she doesn't want to leave, then she doesn't have to."
Hmm?
Allen and Mary looked at Vera, who had a smirk on her face, almost simultaneously, stunned.
"Lady Vera..." they both said in unison.
"Don't worry. I'll keep her by my side tonight. If there's any danger, I'll send her back to Kaer Morhen..." the sorceress said softly.
This seemed to be the first time Vera had ever refused Allen's request. But since the sorceress was the one casting the portal spell, the Witcher had no way to force her. Besides, with the protection of the blood-red fox, the little monster might be the safest person in all of Ellander during tonight's May Day Festival celebrations...
So, listening to the little monster's slightly anxious breathing, Allen hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded in agreement. Seeing that the decision was made, Mary glanced out the window.
The setting sun cast its final rays. Outside, the flourishing plants were draped in a golden layer.
"Well then..." Mary turned back, her large eyes glimmering with excitement and anticipation as she gently placed the little monster on the ground. She urged eagerly, "It's getting late. Shall we head out now?"
"Although the main May Day parade is at night, I heard there are already many stalls selling all kinds of trinkets in the afternoon..."
"There are also quite a few bards and illusionists taking the chance to perform in the streets..."
The Witcher shook his head helplessly: "Mary, we aren't..."
"I know... I know..." Mary walked over quickly, hooked her arm through his, and pretended to be serious as she said, "We're following the goddess's guidance, participating in the May Day Festival to protect the people of Ellander who are in danger..."
Do you really know that?
The Witcher looked down at Mary, who was trying to appear serious but whose eager little hand gripping his arm expressed a very different emotion. He couldn't help but sigh.
Sensing Allen's complicated gaze, Mary stuck out her tongue: "The goddess Melitele didn't say we couldn't enjoy ourselves before saving Ellander, right?"
"We've done everything we could. As long as we bring the necessary items tonight, we should be fine..."
Hearing this, the Witcher gazed into Mary's big, watery eyes and thought about how she had been tirelessly making Specter Oil these past few days. His heart softened.
Mary never cared about money, and being with someone like Vera, who was wealthy, she certainly never lacked money even if her family had none. Moreover, when Allen asked Mary to make the Specter Oil, the old duke hadn't even named a price yet...
So, after all these days of tedious work, it was obvious to the Witcher who she was doing it for.
"Go ahead... go ahead..."
At this moment, Vera chimed in as well, urging him: "Whether there will be an accident at the May Day Festival is still uncertain."
"Besides, Mason and Ianna have already made ample preparations."
"Are you telling me that in all of Ellander, with so many knights and priests, there's a need for a fourteen-year-old Witcher?"
"And also..."
The sorceress paused, lowering her eyes slightly and pursing her thin lips:"And also, it's been a long time, and I haven't seen you have any fun or relaxation..."
"That's not how a fourteen-year-old should be!"
The Witcher couldn't refute her words.
Indeed.
There were so many people in Ellander, and with Vera and Ianna, two extraordinary individuals, present, he might have been overextending himself.
"I understand." The Witcher nodded and looked at Mary, "Let's head out now!"
"Yahoo~"
Mary almost jumped with joy when she heard that.
"I want to come too..." the little monster said weakly.
"No, you don't..." Before Allen or Mary could respond, Vera cut her off with a cold glance, "You're coming with me..."
The little monster shrank back, clutching the black cloth tightly, not daring to make a sound.
Allen glanced at Vera, then instinctively turned his head, just in time to meet Mary's eyes.
In the next second, the two quickly looked away. Mary lowered her head unconsciously, her cheeks slightly flushed. Seeing this, Vera smirked slightly and said softly: "If there's nothing else to prepare, let's head out now."
"Wait," Allen suddenly remembered something, "I promised Master Vesemir..."
"I'll inform him," Vera interrupted, "Anything else?"
"No..." Allen shook his head helplessly. He glanced at Mary, and then the two of them walked out one after the other.
"Snap~"
A finger snap.
As soon as Allen stepped out of the alchemy room, he heard something being thrown behind him. He quickly turned around and caught it.
"Clang, clang~"
The sound of metal clinking caught the Witcher's attention. It was a coin pouch, decorated with gold trim.
"Inside are some small coins, so you don't need to exchange them," Vera said with a cheerful smile.
Prepared so thoroughly? Allen was stunned for a few seconds.
Was this all planned in advance?
However, he did indeed have very little change on him.
After parting ways with Hughes, Bond, and Fred, and with Mary joining their group, Vesemir had been in charge of their daily expenses. So, the Witcher didn't refuse, thanked her, and tucked the pouch into his cloak. Then, with Vera's "Have fun" blessings and the little monster's somewhat "resentful" gaze, the two of them left the alchemy room.
--------------------
Meanwhile.
By the time Captain Arthur drove the cloak-covered wagon back to the castle's military camp, hundreds of soldiers dressed in black iron armor had already lined up on the empty training grounds.
"Clatter, clatter~"
Before the wagon even stopped, three soldiers, each wearing a black iron helmet with a long red feather—who appeared to be officers—ran up. As they approached, the wagon stopped.
The man in the middle removed his helmet, revealing a rugged face with a thick beard. Looking at Arthur stepping down from the wagon, he asked: "Is this the sword oil Sir Mason mentioned?"
Arthur nodded.
Without saying much, he signaled to his men to unload the chest, which stood half as tall as a person.
Opening it revealed rows of neatly arranged glass bottles, glistening in the sunlight.
"Smack~"
Arthur slapped away the bearded officer's hand, which had carelessly reached for the chest.
"Sir Sara, this is Specter Oil for the five hundred soldiers of the Hunting Army. Please inspect it."
"Duke Mason specifically had you train in applying the oil over the past few days, so I won't repeat the instructions."
The bearded officer, Sara, rubbed his hand and complained: "We're all old friends and comrades, can't you be a little gentler?"
Seeing that Arthur remained silent, he didn't mind.
The Monster Hunting Army had only been established five years ago, evolving from Duke Mason's personal guard. It was formed after the last remnant of the rebellion in Fargra was destroyed, when Ellander suffered severe casualties from both war and plague, leading to a rampant spread of monsters.
It wasn't that the old duke hadn't hired professional witchers to deal with these creatures. But Ellander was far from Kaer Morhen of the Wolf School, Kaer Seren of the Griffin School, and Haern Cadwe of the Bear School. And witchers often returned to their schools to hibernate through winter.
So, once the witchers left, small groups of monsters would inevitably reappear, attacking and harassing the surrounding villages of Ellander.
Since the war had temporarily ended, Duke Mason decided to select a group of the most battle-hardened soldiers from among his guards to form a special unit. This unit was tasked with specifically dealing with scattered and weaker monsters—thus, the Monster Hunting Army was born.
As a result, most of the officers, including Sara and Arthur, were originally from the personal guard. He and Arthur had a bond forged in life-or-death situations on the battlefield. Though they hadn't seen each other often in recent years due to their respective military duties, they were naturally much more casual in their interactions.
The bearded officer, Sara, looked at his old battle companion, who was expressionless and silent, and added silently in his mind: at least, that's what he thought.
After a few seconds, Arthur continued to stare at him without a word.
"Alright, alright," Sara scratched his head in frustration, not really bothering to count the bottles. "Sir Arthur, we've received these specter oils for the Monster Hunting Army."
"Now, may I touch them?"
Arthur extended his right hand, gesturing permission.
"Clink clink~"
Sara took a bottle of specter oil from the crate and waved it in front of his eyes.
"This specter oil—can it really be as powerful as Lord Mason said a few days ago?"
"Three strikes to kill a ghost, all because of this?"
Sara, with a tone of doubt, opened the bottle and sniffed it. A young knight who had come with Arthur immediately stopped him in alarm: "Sir Sara, this is meant to be applied to swords, not drunk!"
"I know!" Sara waved his hand, putting the cork back in the bottle. "I don't know much about it, but isn't alchemy something witchers aren't particularly skilled at?"
"First of all, it's not meant for ghosts," Arthur said, expressionless. "specter oil targets all specter-type creatures, like wraiths, banshees, plague maidens..."
"Also, the 'three strikes to kill' applies to Master Allen's level of skill..."
"We haven't tested it because lone wraiths are hard to find."
"So you should probably double that number."
No tests had been conducted...
Sara paused, stopping the shaking of the bottle. After a couple of seconds, he looked at Arthur with a serious expression: "You dare bring untested substances to the Monster Hunting Army?"
"The men risk their lives fighting those monsters! Do you know how many we've lost in just the past six months?"
Sara's voice grew harsher, his eyes widening. But before Arthur could speak, the young knight beside him quickly added:"Sir Sara, while we haven't tested specter oil, we have tried another of Master Allen's concoctions, necrophage oil, and it worked superbly!"
Another middle-aged knight, who had been helping to carry the crates, nodded and calmly raised a finger toward the bearded officer:"One strike."
"One strike?" Sara blinked, confused.
"Clang~"
The middle-aged knight patted the scabbard of his longsword.
"Steel sword. One strike to decapitate a ghoul," he paused, proudly lifting his head, "I did it!"
"Huh?" Sara's mouth hung open in shock as he glanced between the middle-aged knight and the longsword at his waist.
Ghouls were the monsters the Monster Hunting Army fought the most. Those pack-hunting fiends often appeared in groups near battlefield ruins, fast and cunning, making them particularly challenging to deal with.
Even with silver weapons forged by Mahakam dwarves, the Monster Hunting Army often suffered casualties.
Steel swords couldn't even pierce their hides...
Wait...
Have the personal guard had casualties recently?
"The dead ones," Arthur interrupted Sara's thoughts, ignoring the resentful look from the middle-aged knight.
"Captain..." the middle-aged knight grumbled.
"You'll mislead them with that explanation," Arthur shook his head. "It happened the day the high priestess of Melitele performed the exorcism outside the city."
The day of the exorcism... Sara frowned at the mention, casting a glance at the Monster Hunting Army officer beside him, who quickly averted his gaze.
"Master Allen killed all those ghouls..."
After a pause, Arthur added: "Thirty-three ghouls, and one alghoul, with no injuries to Master Allen himself."
"But necrophage oil does enhance the weapon's power. Even if the ghoul is alive, as long as you can land a hit, a steel sword will do the job with one strike."
"Hiss—"
All three Monster Hunting Army officers gasped simultaneously, exchanging looks. Even Sara, who had been so outraged moments ago, found himself at a loss for words. There's no way a witcher master, capable of single-handedly and unscathedly slaughtering so many monsters, would bother selling them a few hundred bottles of fake potions.
Especially since the necrophage oil had already proven effective.
And of course, someone as great as Duke Mason could never be tricked...
"Also," Arthur said, "the specter oil was provided as a precaution."
"We're patrolling, guarding the crowds during the carnival, not hunting monsters."
"True..." Sara awkwardly scratched his head.
And they were already armed with silver weapons, giving them an extra layer of protection compared to the personal guard.
"There's really nothing to worry about," laughed the middle-aged knight from the personal guard. "Do you know who Master Allen's alchemy teacher is?"
"Who?"
"The Blood-Red Fox—Vera!"
The three Monster Hunting Army officers froze for a moment, then, after recalling for a while, their eyes widened at the revelation. Any doubts about the specter oil's effectiveness vanished instantly.
Night began to fall.
It was nearly time for the Monster Hunting Army's patrol.
With nothing left to discuss, the group said their farewells, leaving behind the potions and cart as they headed out.
Sara began organizing the soldiers to distribute the potions. From start to finish, neither the officers of the Monster Hunting Army nor those of the personal guard mentioned...
...the unexpected event that had prompted Duke Mason and High Priestess Ianna to go to such great lengths.
Could mere mortals like them really handle it with just a bottle of sword oil?
How many of their soldiers, or even they themselves...
...would survive after tonight?
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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272. The May Festival King.
273. One Wave After Another.
274. The Dust of Heroes.
275. I Have My Battlefield.
276. Conjunction of the Spheres—Wraiths.
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