Capítulo 314: 315. The Wolf School is Done!
"What?!!"
The young noble Nassi looked at the newcomer with confusion, seemingly unsure why the Wolf School's departure caused such a strong reaction from everyone else.
Raphael and Gil both cried out in surprise simultaneously.
"Lord Sunny, is this information reliable?" Duke Doneto tightened his grip on his dark cane.
The young, handsome sorcerer called Sunny nodded heavily.
"We just received the message from Ellander this morning. Last week, when Mason knighted a Witcher, he invited the Wolf School to relocate to Ellander."
"What was the Wolf School's response?" the elder noble Gil leaned on the long table, his body tense as he asked eaGilly.
"Still unknown," Sunny shook his head.
Hearing this, Raphael's expression relaxed slightly, but he soon realized something, growing serious again as he looked at Duke Doneto and continued: "Even if the Wolf School hasn't responded yet, given how Witchers have been squeezed out in Kaedwen in recent years, the situation doesn't look hopeful."
"And we all know what just happened in Ellander."
"Now, they need Witchers. Even if the Wolf School declined once, with repeated incentives, it would be hard for them not to be tempted."
Gil added, "Let's not forget that the High Priestess of Melitele has shown extraordinary warmth toward Witchers as well."
The study fell into silence.
Aside from young Nassi, who was awkwardly fiddling with the white silk scarf at his chest, everyone else wore a grave expression, bowing their heads in deep thought about the next steps.
"The Wolf... leaving the Wolf School, isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" Nassi tilted his head toward Raphael and whispered, "Weren't we the ones spreading those defaming rumors and writings to drive them away?"
"Count Nassi," before Raphael could answer, Gil spoke first, almost gently, "The Wolf School is not like the Cat School. What benefit would driving such Witchers bring to us?"
Nassi was stunned at this, looking toward Sunny, the handsome sorcerer with a face as flawless as porcelain but likely older than his deceased grandfather. He thought: "Isn't it because sorcerers and Witchers naturally don't get along, with Witchers often stealing sorcerers' business?"
At that moment, Sunny seemed to sense his gaze, or perhaps even read his thoughts. He looked up, glancing at Nassi with a faint hint of disdain, scaring Nassi, who quickly thought of the rumors about sorcerers reading minds and flashed an apologetic smile.
Sunny merely glanced at him without a word or reaction, lowering his head back into thought.
This left Nassi, who had considered himself a central figure, feeling rather embarrassed.
Thankfully, at that moment,
"We have united for the future of this country," Gil said solemnly, "In this era where monsters still rampage and have even shown signs of resurgence recently in Ban Ard and Ellander, Witchers are necessary and indispensable for Kaedwen."
Nassi paused at these words: "Then why…"
"Because they're Witchers from the Wolf School, not our Witchers," Raphael frowned and cut off Gil's lengthy explanation.
"Alright, there's no time to lecture the child now. If he has questions, you can teach him in private later," Sunny waved his hand impatiently.
Nassi clutched his white silk scarf tightly, his face suddenly darkening.
In response, Raphael patted his shoulder, and Gil gave him an apologetic look before continuing to ponder.
The study once again fell silent.
After a long while,
"Relocating a school isn't a small matter. Even if Grandmaster Sol started now, it would take at least two or three years…" Gil suddenly spoke.
"Don't think of it like that," Raphael shook his head. "A full relocation might take two or three years, but once the decision is made, they'll start moving in batches. By then, what we're after might not be there anymore."
"Therefore…" he looked up at Duke Doneto, speaking firmly, "we need to act now!"
Duke Doneto, his expression serious, gripped his cane tightly and looked at Gil.
Gil hesitated for a few seconds before nodding in agreement with Raphael's perspective.
"But how should we proceed? Should we stick to the original plan?" Raphael glanced at Sunny, who had been deep in thought. "The Wolf School isn't easy to mess with, especially after Henselt's plan failed..."
"I've heard of the 'Dragon Slayer' since I was young."
"Kaer Morhen is also located in the treacherous Blue Mountain range, fortified with high walls and strong towers."
"Aedirn has already seized the stronghold of Ban Glean on the northern banks of the Pontar River. This has tied up much of our elite forces, and we still need to retain a considerable reserve force, making it difficult to allocate more…"
"Let's not end up accidentally dragging ourselves into this."
"Ban Glean isn't far from Ard Carraigh."
After hearing this, everyone fell silent for a while.
"Lord Sunny…" the young noble Nassi suddenly spoke, drawing everyone's attention, "I heard that this war was instigated by Ban Ard to distract the new king."
"Now that Lado has his hands full, can't we call a truce?"
"Pfft~" Sunny snorted. "Kid, do you think war is a game? Something you can wave a silk scarf at and start or stop as you please?"
Kid!!!
Nassi's face turned red instantly.
He awkwardly let go of his white scarf, his hands clenching tightly.
Raphael quickly tugged at Nassi's clothes, signaling him to be quiet.
Gil attempted to ease the situation: "Actually, Count Nassi's suggestion isn't entirely without merit. Can Vengerberg's magic advisors influence Aedirn's supply lines?"
Sunny cast a cold look at Nassi but didn't dwell on it: "Forget trying anything with Aedirn."
"Henselt went too far in the past. Aedirn has gone mad, from nobles down to commoners."
"Forget whether Fritz could influence their supplies—I haven't even received a pigeon from Vengerberg in almost two months."
With this, the study fell into a dead silence again.
The death of Henselt had too great an impact.
It had opened up unprecedented possibilities while also disrupting all their plans.
"Hen Gedymdeith, that old man… what's he thinking now?" The old man sitting in the high-backed chair looked up and asked, "This is a matter that could benefit both sides…"
"No!"
"If successful, Ban Ard and he personally stand to gain even more!"
"He's already old," Sunny shook his head, "just getting him to watch from the sidelines without interfering is already the limit."
"And with Tomas Moreau and Makarov's disappearance, the Dean has been in a terrible mood, targeting our faction heavily lately."
"This time, I only managed to leave under the pretense of finding a lead on Tomas Moreau; I'll have to leave shortly…"
"Tomas Moreau?" Raphael asked curiously. "Isn't he one of ours? Why do you sound as if you've already given up on him?"
"He's just a useful mad dog," Sunny sneered. "Would you partner with a mad dog and discuss important matters?"
"Besides, if neither the Dean nor Ban Ard's master tracker and diviner, Shaquille, can locate him, there's no way I can."
After a pause, Sunny's mocking smile faded, replaced by an impassive expression as he continued: "We have to prepare for war, guard against the increasingly unstable new king, and deal with the Dean's inquiries and the investigation into Tomas Moreau and Makarov's disappearances..."
"If we follow the original plan, we won't have many people available here, probably not even a fifth of what was planned."
A fifth...
Hearing this, Raphael couldn't help but shake his head inwardly; there were only six mages planned in total.
"At this rate, a full assault on Kaer Morhen according to the original plan is definitely not going to work," Gil concluded with a strained voice.
"Look on the bright side," Raphael suddenly smiled, "maybe it's a good thing we can't mount a direct attack..."
"Oh? What do you mean?" Gil asked curiously.
"Because with Vesemir and his apprentice, the so-called Blue Death—whatever that bizarre name means—the domestic neutral nobles' view of Witchers will surely improve after the exposure of Ellander's disaster."
Raphael shrugged. "At least we won't have to crawl up Kaer Morhen like thieves, hiding and disguising ourselves, fearing being branded as persecutors of Witcher heroes, right?"
Gil, irritated by Raphael's flippant tone, couldn't hold back. He scolded loudly, "Raphael, we're talking business!"
"And I'm not?" Raphael retorted.
"You!"
"Enough!" Duke Donato struck the floor hard with his cane, stopping their argument.
Only then did Raphael and Gil control their tempers, reluctantly taking their seats.
"So, it seems there's nothing we can do."
This was a statement, not a question.
The mage, known as Sunny, although expressionless, conveyed clear dissatisfaction and anGil in his tone.
Raphael and Gil could understand this.
After traveling such a long way and achieving nothing, anyone would feel frustrated—even the calmest person. Let alone Sunny, whose temper was notoriously foul.
Raphael and Gil exchanged a discreet look.
"Not necessarily nothing," Raphael began, only to fall silent as Sunny's face darkened, and the silk curtains behind him moved despite the absence of wind.
Even as silence fell upon the study, the motion of the curtains continued, and soon even the candle flames within crystal holders began to flicker wildly.
The shadows on the walls around them grew, as if about to devour them.
Nassi, wide-eyed with terror, clutched his white silk scarf as though it were his lifeline.
The oppressive atmosphere caused the people around the long table to grow pale and breathe more heavily.
"There is a way."
A raspy, aged sigh came from the head of the long table, and the oppressive aura vanished instantly.
"What way?"
"Just because we can't mount a full assault doesn't mean we can't weaken them." The elderly man sat back in his high chair, his hands resting on a dark cane. "Whether it's the Wolf School or the Cat School, Witchers are Witchers..."
"People who risk their lives for money. They're easy to handle."
"How do we handle them?" The mage asked with interest.
The elder paused for a few seconds, then sighed and gave his instructions:
"Raphael!"
The middle-aged noble stood up.
"Over the next few days, compile a list of monsters that have appeared within the various factions, focusing on the most challenging ones…" The old man spoke slowly, "Hide the information and raise the bounties; I trust you'll manage the details well."
"Rest assured, Lord Donato," Raphael replied, accepting the orders.
"Is that acceptable, Lord Sunny?" The elder turned to the mage in robes.
"An excellent idea; no wonder you were once called the Sly Rat…" Sunny laughed heartily.
"You…"
Gil's face reddened with rage at the mage's label and abruptly stood up, only to slowly sit back down under the elder's impassive gaze.
Sunny seemed unfazed by the elderly noble's disdain, chuckling twice more: "Since you already have a plan, I won't interfere."
"It seems Tomas Moreau was last seen in Ard Carraigh; I should go investigate."
"Would you like me to arrange someone to guide you?" The elder asked calmly.
"No need…" Sunny raised an eyebrow. "When Lado was young, I held him in my arms; he won't refuse my visit."
"…aen'dreancáemmpont…"
A mysterious incantation echoed.
"Boom~"
A rough, orange portal tore through space again.
The resulting howling wind seemed even more intense than the first time.
The nearby gold candlesticks bolted to the floor bent, and their flames were instantly extinguished.
Around the long table, everyone clung to the massive, heavy oak table to withstand the chaotic gusts.
After a while, the winds from the void dissipated. The mage Sunny had vanished from the study.
"Bang~"
A twisted gold candlestick toppled and hit the floor.
The crystal cover shattered all over the ground.
"These damned mages; they should be exterminated more than the Witchers!" Gil tidied his graying beard, cursing loudly.
"Aren't all mages like that?" Raphael, the middle-aged noble, said dismissively, "It's not the first time they've displayed their high-and-mighty airs."
"Gil!" the elder suddenly called out.
The senior nobleman immediately stood up.
"Find an opportunity to inform Lado about the Wolf School. Our king should not be kept in the dark." The elderly Duke's weathered hands caressed the polished, black head of his cane.
"Yes, Lord Donato!" Gil answered.
"Lord Donato, after identifying suitable monsters, should we wait a bit before proceeding…" Raphael asked hesitantly.
"No need." The elder shook his head gently. "Once we start, let's leave no room for doubt. This matter is crucial for us, after all."
"But make sure to track how many Witchers die or are crippled due to this; have someone record it secretly."
"If the results are promising, the original plan may not need to be scrapped."
"Understood, Lord Donato." Raphael replied respectfully.
"And…" The elder closed his eyes briefly, thinking, before adding, "Don't limit your actions to Kaedwen; Aedirn is difficult to reach, but Redania, Temeria, and the Hengfors League aren't engaged in warfare."
Raphael nodded.
"And keep it discreet."
"Rest assured, Lord Donato," Raphael nodded in agreement.
Seeing the serious expressions of the three at the long table, the elder unexpectedly smiled gently: "Don't worry too much. We are the true masters of this world!"
Only then did the others' expressions ease.
At that moment.
The young noble Nassi couldn't help but ask: "Isn't Lord Donato's idea quite sound?"
"I can hardly imagine how many Witchers from the Wolf School will make it back to Kaer Morhen after venturing out in the harsh winter…"
"Why does everyone seem so reluctant?"
To this.
Donato remained silent.
After exchanging glances, Raphael and Gil merely shook their heads and sighed.
They said nothing.
.....
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316. The Witcher Corps's First Group Hunt.
317. Stone Wants to Stay.
318. A Tribute to the Mother of All Things.
319. The Giant Troll Wraith!
320. Legendary Unit: Metal Troll Joins.
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