Bab 240: 241. Family and Heroes?
The Wild Hunt has intentions for his apprentice?
Vesemir froze for two seconds, his brows furrowing: "What do you mean?"
"The Wild Hunt disappeared in the east, not just because of the war between Kaedwen and Aedirn, but also because of the Conjunction of the Spheres and the Curse of the Black Sun in Ban Ard..."
Allen saw Vesemir's amber-colored cat eyes contract instantly and continued: "Master Vesemir."
"The Wild Hunt isn't attracted by the scent of war to spread disaster..."
"They sensed the Conjunction of the Spheres. They came for me."
Upon hearing this, Vesemir hurriedly took two steps forward, gripping Allen's arms tightly, his voice anxious: "Are you sure, Allen?"
"Those damned monsters really came for you?"
As if realizing his tone and actions conveyed distrust, Vesemir quickly retracted his hands, laughing awkwardly in apology: "Sorry, I'm not accusing you of lying, it's just… it's just… it sounds so absurd..."
In Vesemir's mind, the Wild Hunt had always been a difficult-to-disprove legend. Even encountering them today felt more like a ghostly phenomenon driven by natural forces.
Coming for Allen...
The way Allen spoke, it was as if those creatures flying through the sky were intelligent. And the Conjunction of the Spheres... the Wild Hunt...
How are these things connected?
But seeing Allen's solemn expression, Vesemir swallowed hard.
Unlike most kids, Allen, though young, had never lied or joked about serious matters.
No, wait...
The witcher master thought carefully. Allen had never lied in front of him, about anything.
So...
Vesemir's heart sank as if weighed down.
"Are you sure?" he asked again.
Allen lowered his head, pondering for a moment, but instead of answering immediately, he changed the subject.
"Master Vesemir, do you know what the Wild Hunt is?"
Waiting for a straightforward yes-or-no answer, Vesemir was caught off guard, blurting out his thoughts instinctively: "Shadows, flying, bare skeletons, hatred for the living, and powerful magic..."
"They should be specters, right? And probably the strongest kind of specter!"
"Elves..." Allen shook his head, "The Wild Hunt is made up of elves!"
"What!" Vesemir's eyes widened. "Those long-eared creatures hiding in the Blue Mountains could do something like this?"
"Not the ones hiding in the Blue Mountains, not the Aen Seidhe." Hearing Vesemir's derogatory remark about elves, Allen chuckled and explained: "But they are related..."
"The Wild Hunt is the Aen Elle, kin of the Aen Seidhe from thousands of years ago."
"But unlike the Aen Seidhe, who settled in this world, the Aen Elle, with their ability to travel through time and space, were always warmongering conquerors..."
"They ruled over every place they arrived..."
"But suddenly, it seems they lost their ability to travel between worlds..."
Other than key information related to the Witcher's Journal and the Gate of Al'ghais, Allen had no intention of hiding anything from the trustworthy Vesemir. He divulged everything he had learned from his past life and the game's lore.
Vesemir listened in stunned silence, his gaze toward Allen becoming more peculiar. The identity of the Wild Hunt was one thing.
More importantly...
He was certain that the library in Kaer Morhen didn't contain such information.
Perhaps even Ban Ard and Aretuza didn't have it; otherwise, with the mages' insatiable thirst for knowledge, this history—devoid of spells—would have spread. And with centuries-old legends of the Wild Hunt being so widespread, someone would have come forward to explain it.
Knowing the Wild Hunt consisted of elves traveling and conquering worlds would have made the selfish kings of the Northern Kingdoms incapable of tolerating it. There would have been some major action.
"Allen, where did you get all this knowledge?" Vesemir asked hesitantly.
"Part of it, I learned in Kaedwen from Francesca." The young witcher replied.
From an elf? Vesemir nodded.
This, he knew.
He also knew that the elf woman had gifted Allen a set of expensive elven magical artifacts.
After a pause, Allen continued: "The other part... it's like a dream..."
A dream... Vesemir immediately grew serious.
"One day in the future, the King of the Wild Hunt will attack Kaer Morhen with his army, in an attempt to regain the ability to travel through time and space..."
Allen gazed into Vesemir's amber-colored cat eyes, quietly adding in his heart:
On that day, the last bonds holding the School of the Wolf together will be severed.
"Is this your prophecy?" Vesemir asked, noticing Allen's suddenly sorrowful expression and frowning deeply.
"No! This future can be changed!"
Allen met Vesemir's eyes resolutely, then continued:
"That's why we need the School of the Viper. We need the help of Ivar Evil-Eye."
"Sigh~" Vesemir let out a long sigh, "Henselt's and Ban Ard's issues aren't even solved yet, and now there's the Wild Hunt too?"
And...
Vesemir glanced out the window.
It was April in flotsam Port, and though the temperature wasn't high, the ice left by the Wild Hunt during the day had only partially melted. The massive shadow loomed outside the window, like a monstrous beast crouching in the darkness.
Could the Wild Hunt, wielding such powerful magic, really be something Ivar Evil-Eye could deal with?
After spacing out for a moment, Vesemir felt Allen's gaze on him, and seeing the confidence in his expression, Vesemir's heart inexplicably grew steadier. He nodded slightly and said: "I understand."
"Do what you must!"
"I will support whatever decisions you make!"
Allen nodded firmly, smiling as he said: "For now, there's nothing to do. We'll proceed to Ellander, then return to Kaer Morhen. Once Ernesto delivers the letter to Grandmaster Ivar Evil-Eye, we'll see."
"Alright."
Vesemir grunted in acknowledgment and was about to head to his room. But after a few steps, the witcher master suddenly turned back.
He gave the young witcher a firm pat on the shoulder, looking seriously into Allen's blue cat eyes: "Remember, Allen!"
"No matter what happens, the School of the Wolf will always be your home, your strongest support..."
"So..."
"Don't act on your own. Don't do anything foolish, understand?"
Allen stood frozen for a moment, warmth flooding his heart. He knew Vesemir was worried he would leave without a word, bearing the danger of being hunted by the Wild Hunt alone.
"Don't worry, Master Vesemir."
"I understand."
Allen nodded lightly.
The witcher master scrutinized him for a few more seconds, ensuring Allen wasn't just brushing him off, before nodding and leaving.
----------------
Bang~
The door closed.
Allen finally relaxed.
"I'm not a child. How could I leave without a word?"
The young witcher couldn't help but secretly complain in his heart. Although he had been an orphan in both of his lives and had no family. Even growing up in an orphanage, he understood that...
Family is about mutual dependence, mutual support; there is no such thing as someone dragging another down or being a burden.
If one tries to bear everything alone, they might end up dragging their closest people down. At least, Allen had experienced many such situations in the orphanage.
So.
Having gradually come to see Kaer Morhen as his home and Vesemir, Vera, and Mary as his family, he had never thought about shouldering the consequences of the Conjunction of the Spheres on his own.
Just like when Kaer Morhen faced an extinction crisis, he had never thought about escaping with Lady Vera.
But the Wild Hunt…
Allen walked to the windowsill and looked up at the night sky, where the massive shadow was still emitting an intense chill. Recalling that even the aftermath of just a magical attack had not only shattered his and Vesemir's Quen signs but had also gravely injured them both.
A deep sense of crisis surged in his heart.
"This is absurd!" Allen felt the chilling sensation that made his hair stand on end and sighed, "Even the aftershock of a casual strike was unbearable for me. How on earth am I supposed to fight such a monster?"
Thinking back to how he had slaughtered the King of the Wild Hunt using various fighting styles in his previous life's game, Allen shook his head.
Compared to a witcher, the soldiers of the Wild Hunt in the game seemed like master swordsmen with better melee skills but still individuals who could be easily defeated. Moreover, in the game, the total number of Wild Hunt soldiers was only a few dozen.
Back then, while playing, he had even complained on the forums about how such a small force could have conquered so many different worlds.
He hadn't expected that after truly crossing into the world of The Witcher and witnessing the Wild Hunt's real power, he would be left speechless.
"The combat strength of the Wild Hunt in the game no longer has any reference value."
Allen thought.
This was why he needed Ivar Evil-Eye, the Grandmaster of the Viper School, who had witnessed countless Wild Hunt conquests of different worlds and had spent decades thinking about how to defeat them.
Recalling the uncertain situation in Kaedwen, Allen couldn't help but glance out at the night sky again and sigh: "One crisis after another, huh!"
"I wonder if the Wild Hunt, heading east, will clash with Ban Ard…"
-----------------
The Spiral.
As the name suggests, it was like the spiral stairs of a castle tower, a passage that continuously ascended and descended. But unlike the stairs in a castle tower.
In the Spiral, there was no limit to either rising or descending, and both seemed to lead into the deepest, most profound darkness.
"Clip-clop, clip-clop~"
The sound of horse hooves echoed in this empty space.
A group of knights, clad in blood-red armor and riding skeletal horses with ghostly blue breaths, galloped through the Spiral. Though the place was dark, it was not without light.
Countless scenes flickered past on either side of the knights, illuminating their menacing skeletal heads under their helmets and their bodies, which were so emaciated that they looked like they had been mummified for a thousand years.
They were the Wild Hunt.
The Red Riders of the Aen Elle, the rulers of endless worlds, the ghosts who foreshadow wars.
"Hah—hah—"
The leading knight glanced at his companion on the right, who had just withdrawn his staff. He seemed to want to speak, but when he opened his mouth, only the sound of rushing air escaped.
Ding!
A white light flashed on the staff.
"It's been so long since I've been in the Spiral, I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to be a skeleton..."
The knight sighed, the ghostly blue flames in his eye sockets turning toward his companion:
"Caranthir, you've been doing unnecessary things again…"
The skeleton knight called Caranthir opened his bony mouth, seemingly in a smile:
"This isn't unnecessary, Eredin."
"As the navigator, I must ensure I'm in a good mood to better guide the Red Riders…"
"In the darkness of the Spiral, the pressure on a navigator grows by the day…"
Eredin opened his mouth too and said: "So, your way of relieving stress is to kill ignorant mortals?"
"Don't you think it's a good method?" Caranthir was still "laughing," completely unbothered by the question.
Because he knew…
"That's true…" Eredin sighed, gripping the massive hammer strapped to his saddle tightly: "The fragrance of the ignorant's blood is always intoxicating, especially when paired with the sound of skulls being crushed…"
"Even the finest perfumers of Tir ná Lia couldn't craft such a refreshing scent…"
"Nor could the greatest composers create such a beautiful melody…"
"Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop~"
Caranthir's skeletal teeth clicked rapidly, as if he were laughing heartily.
At that moment.
Another fiery scene appeared ahead, seemingly depicting a human city.
The ghostly blue flames in Caranthir's eyes carefully scanned the scene, and when they didn't see the towering structures described by the King of the Wild Hunt, he casually waved his glowing staff.
"Whoosh—"
A blue light shot out from the staff and landed in the brightly lit city.
"Boom!"
A violent explosion rang through the Spiral. Simultaneously, human screams echoed.
The next second.
A disturbance broke out behind Caranthir and Eredin.
Then.
Dozens more spheres of light shot out from the Red Riders, turning into deadly meteors that smashed into the city.
In an instant.
The heart-wrenching screams and cries grew louder.
"Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop~"
Caranthir laughed heartily.
The entire Red Riders troop echoed with the sound of clattering bones.
"It must be nice to know magic…" Eredin, listening to the screams around him, tightly gripped the hammer's handle and enviously clicked his tongue:
"You lot really do seem like characters from one of those old hero operas in Tir ná Lia…"
"Oh? Which hero?" Caranthir asked curiously.
"No, not a hero…" Eredin bared his teeth, "The biggest villain…"
Caranthir was taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter again.
For a long time.
Eredin rubbed the handle of his hammer, feeling a bit restless.
"Caranthir, how much longer until we find it?" he asked.
"Soon, soon!"
Caranthir's answer was perfunctory. But Eredin didn't mind. He kept his eyes on the flickering scenes to the left and right, hoping to spot the human city with towering spires sooner.
Like that.
Scenes flickered from black to white and back to black again, over and over, countless times. Eredin seemed to have finally spotted the target.
He turned his head, just about to ask Caranthir to confirm…
Suddenly.
Caranthir spoke.
"Eredin…" His ghostly blue eyes flickered as he looked at Eredin, his voice hoarse: "Perhaps we are the biggest villains in those hero operas…"
"But it doesn't matter…"
"The Aen Elle will sing our heroic epic in the future land free of the White Frost!"
....…
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242. Departure.
243. Don't Do That, Yennefer and Clay Are Still Here!
244. The Sword of Heroes, Balmur.
245. The Girl I Once Met.
246. Are You Really Not Planning to Tell Him About His Origins?
Status Power Mingguan
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Power 
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