Chapitre 258: 259. The Unavoidable Soft Rice.
A family?
The Witcher was taken aback.
Ianna was Vera's adopted daughter, and he had only studied alchemy with the sorceress for a few days. It seemed like a bit of a stretch. However, after glancing at Ianna's somewhat meaningful gaze, he didn't deny it.
No matter how you looked at it, being regarded as family by a high priest of a major religious sect couldn't be a bad thing…
Of course, he didn't have the thick skin to accept it outright either. He simply nodded vaguely and, after saying a word of thanks, quickly moved on from the topic.
It was already dark.
Ianna and Allen didn't exchange many words before heading into the temple.
"Come along, child. Let's fill your belly first, then I'll take you to find Vera and Vesemir..."
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The routine in the world of the Witchers differed from that of his previous life. Although it was just nightfall, the temple was already almost empty. Or rather, only certain areas still had people coming and going.
For instance, the place designated for childbirth.
After all, life doesn't choose when to arrive.
Under the crackling torchlight along the roadside, a few priests were hurriedly walking towards that area. Upon seeing Ianna, they merely nodded slightly before moving on. Though there were few people around, the night here wasn't as quiet as in other places.
At least, with the Witcher's keen senses, he could occasionally hear anxious cries and the vibrant sounds of newborns crying. It gave him an inexplicable sense of comfort and peace.
When they arrived at the dining hall, dinner had long since ended, and there was no one left inside. However, following the temple's high priest, the Witcher certainly wouldn't go hungry.
He watched as Ianna busily moved about in an inner room, heating up a small pot of milk and frying a few eggs. Then, somehow, she pulled out a basket of bread from who knows where.
While Ianna was busy, the Witcher naturally felt too embarrassed to just sit idly by. But every time he tried to help, she refused.
Observing Ianna expertly frying eggs and heating milk, the Witcher was reminded of the earlier mention of "family," and for some reason, he had the odd sensation that they really were like family.
Snapping out of it, he could only inwardly sigh at the high level of the priestess' charisma—it was no wonder Melitele's priestesses had such a reputation.
Ianna placed the slightly salted, oily fried eggs and the warmed milk on the table, saying: "We came back too late, so I could only whip up something simple to fill us up."
"This is already quite good," the Witcher replied, gently placing the basket of bread on the table and shaking his head.
Indeed, it was.
Salt, oil, eggs, milk, and bread.
This meal might not be considered luxurious, but in this world where resources were scarce, it was already a feast. Especially after drinking a large bowl of hot milk, the warmth spread from his stomach, seemingly dispelling the fatigue of the day.
At least, when traveling without Mary, Allen and Vesemir mostly got by on dry rations. Hearing the Witcher's words, Ianna suddenly sighed as she looked into Allen's cat-like eyes, gently rubbing his hair.
There was a complexity in her gaze that the Witcher couldn't quite understand.
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After leaving the dining hall, the Witcher followed Ianna to find Vera.
Speaking of which, ever since the day the sorceress had inexplicably left with a pile of materials, he hadn't seen Vera or Mary for three or four days.
Vesemir, on the other hand, had just been here yesterday, accompanying Lysa as she delivered food. These past few days, he had been busy searching the temple's library for books on the Wild Hunt along with Nenneke and Lysa.
But because of the vast number of scrolls, and since Nenneke and Lysa were priests with temple duties to attend to, they had only managed to sort out the books that might contain relevant information. They hadn't started reading them yet.
"What has Vera been up to these past few days?" the Witcher asked curiously as they walked along a secluded cobblestone path.
Ianna thought for a moment before replying: "When I saw her yesterday, she seemed to be giving lessons to Margarita and Yennefer..."
Vera teaching Mary and the little monster?
Wasn't it Mary who usually taught the little monster?
Allen was puzzled.
Back at Kaer Morhen, whenever he visited the alchemy lab, Mary was either slumped over the table in an unconscious state, or she was miserably brewing potions. There was rarely a third scenario.
The image of Vera giving Mary a lesson like a normal tutor had never occurred to him. But seeing how long Ianna was pondering the situation, it was clear she didn't know much either, so the Witcher didn't press further.
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"...When channeling fire magic, you must be especially careful, not only because fire is the most volatile and difficult to control of the four elemental forces that make up chaotic magic..."
"...But also because any fire spell will bring far more pain than other forms of magic as you draw power. This intense pain can easily cause an inexperienced spellcaster to lose control and self-immolate."
"This is why Aretuza only teaches a harmless illumination spell as an entry-level fire magic and forbids the use of this school of magic within the academy..."
From a distance, the Witcher could hear Vera's voice.
It really did sound like she was giving a lesson, and she was teaching the most dangerous kind of magic—fire spells.
This wasn't something the little monster should be learning.
As they got closer, Allen felt the temperature around him rise, as though he were approaching a furnace.
After Vera's voice paused, Mary's incantation could be heard.
"@#%..."
When the Witcher and Ianna turned a corner, a ball of searing light illuminated the night.
And then—
Whoosh—
The light hit the ground and instantly expanded into a burning sea of flames, roughly two meters wide.
The intense heat distorted the air, and even though Allen was a hundred meters away, it felt like he was standing under the scorching noonday sun.
The power was impressive. However, in the firelight, the Witcher noticed that Mary, having completed the spell, looked deathly pale, almost sickly.
Her brow was furrowed, lips pressed tightly together, and beads of sweat covered her forehead.
She looked to be in considerable pain.
It was only after half a minute passed that she let out a couple of groans and caught her breath.
Vera, watching Mary's condition, shook her head in dissatisfaction: "You need to get used to this sensation—the pain of fire burning through your veins—otherwise, you'll never be able to cast Flame Strike freely, let alone more powerful spells..."
"With your current level of magic power, fire spells are the fastest way to improve in combat, bar none."
"I understand, mentor," Mary replied, panting, wiping away the sweat as she prepared to cast again.
At that moment, the roaring fire began to die down, and both sorceresses heard the hum of the Witcher's school emblem.
"Allen, why are you here?" Vera asked in surprise. "Do you need some materials?"
Allen was slightly embarrassed at her words.
Did she think the only reason he'd come was because he was out of materials?
Seeing Vera raise her hand, about to snap her fingers, the Witcher quickly shook his head, stopping her.
"No, no, it's not that. There's something I wanted to ask you about..."
He then recounted everything that had happened today.
"Two hundred thousand Orens is indeed too little..." the sorceress nodded, "With the value of Necrophage Oil, anything less than a million would be considered cheap."
"But..."
"Are you really planning to sell the formula?"
Allen's heart stirred upon hearing this.
From the moment the old duke made his offer to now, this question had been weighing on his mind.
He wasn't lacking money.
Neither was the School of the Wolf, at least for the time being. So naturally, he didn't want to sell the formula for necrophage oil, which could bring him continuous profits.
But there was a problem.
The School of the Wolf had less than a hundred witchers, and keeping the formula to themselves while only selling potions wouldn't make them much money.
Perhaps even if the old duke placed an order, they wouldn't be able to fulfill it, which might offend a major patron.
What's more, they were witchers, not alchemists. They couldn't afford to spend their time brewing potions for a bit of money instead of hunting monsters.
This would not only fail to strengthen the school but significantly weaken it.
Hiring commoners? That was even more impossible.
Not to mention the risk of leaks.
In a world where even nobles were still illiterate, training commoners to process sword oils would be a huge expense, and it would take a long time.
As for collaborating with the old duke...
If all you had was the formula, but the place and people were provided by the nobles, and you expected to share profits like a modern-day business partnership...
That would be underestimating the appetite of these nobles. So after thinking for a short while, the witcher couldn't come up with a suitable solution.
"Lady Vera, do you think it's better to keep the formula?"
Allen tentatively asked, then explained all his concerns. But before Vera could speak, Mary, who was standing nearby, exclaimed in surprise.
"Allen, why would you even think of selling the formula?"
"Doesn't the master have several alchemical workshops?"
"Most of the potions used by Aretuza students are produced in those workshops."
Several alchemical workshops?
And they were the designated partners of Aretuza, the only sorceress school on the northern continent.
The witcher looked at Vera in shock.
He knew the sorceress was wealthy, but he hadn't expected her to be this wealthy.
Moreover…
The witcher recalled something.
No wonder that back in Kaer Morhen, whatever materials he wanted, the sorceress could summon them with a snap of her fingers.
Just a few days ago, she had summoned a large amount of magical materials in the sanctum with just a snap...
It made sense…
How could someone who sold potions be short on magical materials?
Vera nodded and said: "If you trust me, I can arrange for some people to produce the potions..."
Seeing Allen's confused expression, she paused and explained: "I previously thought you didn't want to spread the potion you created and wanted it to stay with the witchers of the School of the Wolf, so I didn't bring it up..."
"But if you want to entrust us with production, I can... hmm... only charge a one-percent commission."
One percent...
Wasn't that practically working for him for free?
The witcher felt a bit overwhelmed.
"And the old duke..." Allen asked in a daze.
"I'll arrange for someone to negotiate the price and quantity with him. They are experienced merchants..."
At this moment, the witcher realized something serious. It seemed he had overthought everything. From the start, the only thing he really needed to do was hold onto Lady Vera's thigh tightly...
That was enough.
However, to prove he wasn't living off someone else's generosity...
After struggling for a few seconds, Allen waved his hand firmly and said,"Ten percent... Let's go with ten percent commission. One percent is too little."
"Alright, alright," Vera didn't refuse and smiled gently, saying,
"We'll do as you say."
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After resolving the issue of necrophage oil, there was naturally no need for Allen to visit Vesemir. Seeing that Vera and Mary were interested in what had happened today, he recounted the entire journey.
Ianna occasionally added a few details from the side, and the atmosphere was quite pleasant. Until the witcher suddenly recalled the scene he had witnessed on the way and curiously asked Mary,
"Why did you suddenly decide to learn fire magic?"
Even he knew that Mary's original goal was to become an alchemist like Vera. There was no reason for her to learn such painful and dangerous magic. He didn't think he had the charm to make such a talented sorceress change her aspirations.
That would be too self-indulgent.
But to his surprise, the moment Mary heard his question, the sweet smile revealing her two cute little fangs instantly disappeared.
She glared at him, let out a soft "hmph," and turned her head away, as if she were suddenly upset.
This left Allen a bit stunned, as if he had just started to understand. But before he could figure it out, Ianna's laughter rang out. Vera gave her a playful glance before chuckling and saying,"Mary is doing it because..."
Before she could finish, Mary, as if mustering some sudden courage, boldly interrupted the sorceress and shouted, "No! No! No!" repeatedly.
Then, with lightning speed, she shoved Allen out of the courtyard.
"Don't listen to the master's nonsense! I'm not doing it for you!" Mary forced an argument, her face flushed, while Ianna's laughter grew louder.
Vera hadn't even gotten to the "for you" part... Allen thought.
But seeing the fiery blush on the girl's cheeks, he worried that if those words were said out loud, she might actually catch fire. So wisely, he closed his mouth and nodded.
This somehow made Mary feel a little disappointed, her emotions more chaotic and restless than the fire elements mixed in the chaotic magic.
For a moment, there was silence, and neither knew what to say next.
The moon was full tonight.
The moonlight poured down into the courtyard, decorating the cobbled ground with patches of silvery white.
Mary silently counted the white spots on the ground, trying to put into words some of her feelings. But after organizing her thoughts, what she ended up saying was something completely different:
"The Wild Hunt... Can we really defeat the Wild Hunt?"
"I asked the master, and even she can't cast such powerful magic without chanting..."
"And she doesn't think there's any sorcerer today who can do it either..."
"And that kind of Wild Hunt was just one of many skeletal knights. I... I..."
"We will definitely defeat them," the witcher said firmly.
Mary looked at Allen.
She suddenly realized that the little witcher who had once been her height had grown so much in just half a year that she now had to look up to see him.
The moonlight reflected in his cat-like eyes, like a full moon lying in a clear sea.
Even the faint scent of blood carried by the night breeze made her feel an odd sense of trust and comfort.
"I understand..." Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed like she didn't need to say anything else.
"Are you heading back now?" She glanced at the courtyard where lights still flickered in the darkness.
The witcher thought for a moment. If they went back now, with Ianna's mischievous nature, she might tease them again, so he shook his head:
"No, it's late. I'll head back to the sanctum. Please let Lady Vera and Mother Ianna know for me."
Mary nodded, glanced at Allen again, and seeing that there was nothing else to say, turned to head back. She hadn't gone far when she suddenly heard the witcher's voice behind her.
"Thank you," he said.
Then he added, "Take care of yourself and get some rest."
And so,
A smile appeared on the girl's face, more beautiful than the moonlight.
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
260. The Fearsome Good Luck.
261. Melitele Again?
262. Did Yennefer Start Hating Me?
263. Is the Witcher Not Human?
264. The Witcher's Epic Advancement.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone