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90.75% The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes / Chapter 383: 384. Hen Gedymdeith is Dead.

Bab 383: 384. Hen Gedymdeith is Dead.

Necrophages:

[Hunting Quest: Drowners III (Kill Drowners 141/500)]

[Hunting Quest: Ghouls I (Kill Ghouls 60/100)]

[Hunting Quest: Rotfiends I (Kill Rotfiends 0/50)]

[Hunting Quest: Foglets I (Kill Foglets 2/50)]

[Hunting Quest: Water Hags I (Kill Water Hags 0/10)]

[Hunting Quest: Alghoul I (Kill Alghoul 1/10)]

Specters:

[Hunting Quest: Wraiths II (Kill Wraiths 110/150)]

Hybrids:

[Hunting Quest: Royal Griffins I (Kill Royal Griffins 0/3)]

Ogres:

[Gathering Quest: Rock Troll II (Collect Rock Troll Blood 0/25)]

------------------------------

The requirements for all hunting quests were halved!

"Guidance Stone… no wonder it's called that," thought Allen. "Ard Gaeth's Gate must need information about these monsters to unlock the path to their world. This Guidance Stone optimizes the process and reduces the requirements…"

Now it would only take 40 ghouls and 40 wraiths…

"Necrophages are already attacking villages around Ellander. The ghoul hunting quest should be completed soon. If luck is on my side, the 50 Rotfiends might not take long either…"

"With just those two hunting quests, I'd earn 80 small experience orbs…"

"Actually, completing the Drowner quest is also within reach, and the Wraiths and Alghoul as well…"

The more Allen calculated, the more he realized that while the Guidance Stone of Ard Gaeth's Gate didn't grant him any powerful new skills, its utility far surpassed the previous two fragments of Ard Gaeth's Gate.

"Now there's only one problem…" He stared blankly at the wooden talisman hanging from the ceiling.

"How can I recover faster and convince Lysa and Ianna to let me join the feast of hunting necrophages?"

--------------------------

Allen ultimately failed to reduce his seven-day recovery period by even a single day.

The young priestess was especially stubborn about this.

Even on the fifth day, when his wounds had fully scabbed over and no longer hindered normal movement, Lysa only allowed him to walk around the temple and, at most, visit the garden.

To prevent him from sneaking out, Lysa even took leave from Ianna and Nenneke in the final days to stay by his side without a moment's absence.

But there was good news: by the third day, Vesemir's progress in hunting necrophages had seemingly stalled, leaving plenty of targets for Allen.

As for the specific reason, Allen had no idea.

Ianna and Lysa were worried it might agitate him and slow his recovery, so they imposed a strict gag order on Vesemir and the other witchers, forbidding them from discussing their daily monster hunts.

By the final days, seeing Allen's recovery going well, Vesemir and the others stopped visiting entirely. They seemed to have stationed themselves overnight in local villages to protect the residents and their property.

As a result, Allen was confined to the temple, living out what he described as the Ban Ard magical equivalent of prison life.

Knowledge was force-fed into his mind in a brutally overwhelming way.

Nine "Memories of the Sorcerer" gave him three spells, two pieces of magical lore, and four… miscellaneous items—three Ban Ard casting gestures and one Ban Ard rhetoric lesson.

Rhetoric wasn't a spell but rather a method to train sorcerers in speaking with a commanding voice—clear and fast.

The miscellaneous items felt like filler, but they were undeniably useful. The casting gestures and rhetoric were essential for any sorcerer.

However, they didn't appear on his skill interface, couldn't be leveled up, and while important, they weren't immediately practical. Worse, the sheer volume of such knowledge was overwhelming…

Even more frustrating, the three Ban Ard casting gestures came from three different male sorcerers' memories but were part of the same lecture.

A single lecture spanning three years, which he couldn't skip.

Those three years of relentless repetition nearly drove Allen insane.

This was why he used three "Memories of the Sorcerer" on the first day but slowed down as the days went on, ultimately using only nine over six days.

The other reason? He was running out of experience orbs.

The two pieces of magical lore were valuable. One covered Mutagenic Studies, and the other dealt with Exotic Botany—both incredibly useful.

Exotic Botany provided extensive knowledge about identifying, harvesting, and cultivating alchemical plants, which would benefit any school.

Mutagenic Studies was even more critical.

Witchers themselves were created through mutagenic modifications of human children. Furthermore, Allen had access to a formula requiring knowledge of Mutagenic Studies:

[Name: Pale Widow Mutation Formula]

[Type: Scholarly Knowledge]

[Requirements: Mutagenic Studies LV8, Alchemy LV5]

[Effect: Provides a complete formula and method for mutating a Giant Centipede into a Pale Widow.]

[Notes: Tomas Moreau's greatest achievement was mutating the eggs of a Giant Centipede into a Pale Widow, a species he named himself. It was the pinnacle of his life's work…]

With this formula, Allen could control the mutation process of the Pale Widow himself, provided he learned the second mutation method from Tomas Moreau.

And since Vera and the Wolf School hadn't yet forced the secret from Moreau, this formula remained the most crucial material for researching second-stage mutations.

Although unlocking these two types of lore required a significant number of experience orbs, they weren't urgent. Like Astrology before them, there was no rush to unlock them immediately after absorbing the memories.

The three spells, however, were a different matter.

If he didn't unlock them after absorbing the memories, there was no guarantee Vera would offer the same spells again.

Now Allen had only 44 experience orbs left, of which he had already spent 38 unlocking skills. He couldn't afford to waste more orbs, ensuring he didn't miss out on any essential skills.

It was a bittersweet problem because the spells he unlocked were incredibly useful:

[Name: Telepathy]

[Type: Intermediate Mixed-Element Spell]

[Level: LV1]

[Effect: Allows telepathic communication with a single target during the spell's duration, bypassing language barriers.]

This spell required no explanation.

Whether for communicating with non-humans or non-witchers in everyday life or issuing tactical orders during combat, it was invaluable.

Allen had been eager to obtain it for a long time.

It was also the most expensive spell of the three, requiring 26 experience orbs to unlock.

The remaining two were beginner spells, including Staff Summoning:

[Name: Staff Summoning]

[Type: Beginner Mixed-Element Spell]

[Level: LV1]

[Effect: Imprints a "mark" on a staff (or other object), allowing it to be teleported to any location visited within the last 24 hours. Casting the spell again recalls the staff (or object).]

Just like Vilgefortz and other mages, the spell to summon a staff with a wave of the hand.

If Allen had mastered this spell earlier, it would have proven invaluable. Whether disguised as a witcher in Aedirn or entering areas where weapons were prohibited, he would no longer have to worry about being defenseless or unable to retrieve a proper weapon.

The other spell was Magic Flash—

[Name: Magic Flash]

[Type: Fire Element Novice Spell]

[Level: LV1]

[Active Effect: You can cast Magic Flash to create a dazzling flash of light above your head. All individuals within an 8-meter radius have a certain probability of being blinded. The flash can be seen from up to 10 kilometers away.]

Much like Dust of Blindness, this spell had a short cooldown and a highly effective status-inducing effect.

Allen had come to realize something.

As a witcher, whose core lies in close-quarters combat supported by Signs, flashy abilities like Mudslide, which he'd unlocked during the apprentice dueling tournament while hunting a Bog Nymph, were rarely practical. Despite having learned it long ago, Allen hadn't used it even once. The skill's effects often conflicted with his combat style.

Unlike a game, where spells could be used without consequence, the reality was different. Casting Mudslide, for instance, might harm the enemy but would also alter the terrain around them. The resulting soft, muddy ground, lacking any stable foothold, was a nightmare for any melee fighter.

In contrast, utility spells like Dust of Blindness or Magic Flash, which inflicted no damage but caused debilitating effects with virtually no casting time, proved invaluable—at least for now.

This realization gave Allen a better sense of what to expect from future abilities unlocked via Sorcerer's Memories, along with a clearer idea of what to prioritize. After all, such memories wouldn't always grant spells compatible with the witcher's combat style.

However, the pressing concern wasn't prioritization; it was experience orbs, experience orbs, and more experience orbs.

Aside from "serving time" by studying intensively and engaging in lively discussions with the young priestess, both Ianna and Nenneke frequently checked in on Allen.

While assessing his recovery, they would discuss topics like how the Wild Hunt's destruction of Ban Ard impacted the Wolf School and the Melitele Temple, or speculate about how Duke Mason and the northern nobility might react.

But something felt amiss.

Seven days had passed.

The Duke of Aedirn, Temeria's prince, and Duke Mason—a man held in high regard by Temeria's king—had remained unusually quiet. In fact, two days ago, the Duke had even visited Allen personally, urging him to rest and not rush.

Something about this didn't sit right.

It felt very wrong.

"Nine days… No… It's been nine days since the Wild Hunt attacked Ban Ard," Nenneke said, pacing in Allen's room with a furrowed brow. "Nine days of absolute calm. Why hasn't there been any response?"

Allen found it equally baffling.

Nine days with no news? How could that be?

Even if the mages of Ban Ard needed time to assess their losses, unify their internal stance, and draft a public statement, two or three days should have sufficed.

Unlike the Apprentice Duel Tournament incident, this time, the mages had actively sought aid. With the use of artifacts like the Thousand-Mile Mirror—a magical device akin to a live communication tool—they shouldn't have needed much time at all.

Temeria, being the strongest kingdom in the North, might have a complicated history with the mages, but they couldn't simply be ignored.

By the fifth day, surely some word should have come.

But here they were, on the ninth night, with no sign of action or response.

"Could the mages… have run into trouble?" Lysa cautiously ventured, though her words added little clarity.

Ban Ard's fate had already made it evident the mages were in trouble. The real question was: what kind of trouble?

"It's probably related to Hen Gedymdeith's fate," Ianna said grimly.

"Mother Ianna," Allen raised an eyebrow, "do you think Hen Gedymdeith made a move? Couldn't it just be some massive ritual instead?"

"Rituals take time," Ianna replied, shaking her head. "The stronger the ritual, the longer it takes. Moreover, powerful rituals often require precise alignment of stars, rare materials, and specific timings."

"I've taught you Ritual Studies before—think back. Aren't high-level rituals always complex and time-consuming?"

Allen nodded thoughtfully, recalling her lessons.

Ianna continued, "The spells unleashed by the Wild Hunt during the Belleteyn Festival in Aedirn were immensely powerful. By mage standards, each spell was beyond master level."

"Given the devastation you described at Ban Ard, only someone like Hen Gedymdeith could have forced the Wild Hunt to retreat."

"What about the other mages?" Allen asked, intrigued. "Aren't there four others in Chapter of the Gift and the Art who are Hen Gedymdeith's equals?"

"Not every mage was at Ban Ard," Ianna replied in her measured tone. "Ortolan is the head of Risberg's Civil Conjunctions Group, dedicated to biological mutation research and production.

"Tissaia de Vries is the headmistress of Aretuza, the sorceress academy. Narcisse de La Roche resides in Novigrad. Borhn Drummond, meanwhile, has secluded himself in the Dragon Mountains, researching the secrets of elemental magic. That area is rumored to be one of the North's greatest sources of magical energy."

"Of the Gift and Art members, only Borhn Drummond remains fully independent. The rest are tied to their own factions."

Allen nodded, filing away the detail about Borhn Drummond in the Dragon Mountains.

"Hen Gedymdeith used to be incredibly powerful, but now…" Ianna trailed off with a sigh. "He's old. And aging cannot be stopped—not even by Ortolan's elixirs. They can mask appearances, but the body inevitably succumbs to time."

"Four centuries have passed. How much of his peak strength could Hen Gedymdeith possibly retain?"

Before Allen or Nenneke could respond, his sharp ears caught something outside.

His gaze shifted toward the door.

Hurried footsteps approached, and as the wooden door swung open, a breathless messenger called out:

"Archpriestess, the Duke is at the temple gates!"

He's here… Allen thought.

The three of them stood and followed the messenger toward the temple's entrance.

"What brings the Duke here so late at night?" Ianna asked, her tone calm.

"There's been a catastrophe at Ban Ard…"

"It seems someone named Hen Gedymdeith is dead…"

......

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)

385. Allen's Influence.

386. The Gambler's Table of Fate.

387. The Anomaly at Moën Village.

388. The Great Calamity Hidden in the Dark.

389. The Swarm of Ghouls.


next chapter

Bab 384: 385. Allen's Influence.

The messenger was merely a regular novice from the temple. Allen, Ianna, and Nenneke betrayed no unusual reactions and continued toward the gate. However, their quickened pace, dilated pupils, pressed lips, and furrowed brows revealed their unsettled state of mind.

Even Ianna, who had anticipated the truth, could not remain entirely composed.

The difference between "Hen Gedymdeith is in trouble" and "Hen Gedymdeith is dead" was like night and day. These were entirely separate matters, with far-reaching implications.

Power struggles, shifts in alliances, military strategy, and even the balance of strength among nations were all poised to undergo seismic changes.

On a personal level, the implications were even more terrifying:

If someone could kill the North's most powerful and ancient mage, Hen Gedymdeith, in Ban Ard—how could humanity ever hope to fend off the Wild Hunt?

The moonlight spilling over the world was now veiled by clouds. Even the lanterns failed to pierce the suffocating darkness, leaving an oppressive gloom in its wake.

----------------------------------

The group had just rounded the temple's holy statue when the old duke, hearing their approach, immediately hobbled forward with the aid of his cane. He disregarded the notion that Melitele was a goddess solely for women and hastened to meet them.

Catching sight of Allen at Ianna's side, the duke hesitated briefly before offering a weary, forced smile.

"Allen, are you healed?"

"I'm fully recovered," Allen replied. "By tomorrow, I can take on new contracts."

"Good, but don't rush the contracts…" The duke trailed off mid-sentence. His gaze flickered to the novice messenger.

"Talia, you may leave us," Nenneke said.

"Yes, Priestess Nenneke," the novice acknowledged and disappeared into the shadows behind the holy statue.

----------------------------------

As soon as Talia was gone, the duke turned to Ianna, his voice brimming with urgency: "Ianna, are you aware of the Wild Hunt's attack on Ban Ard nine days ago?"

"I'm not," Ianna said evenly. Then she asked, "But just now, Talia mentioned that Ban Ard is in chaos—Hen Gedymdeith is dead?"

"Those damned specters!" The duke's expression darkened. "After leaving Ellander, they turned their sights on Ban Ard. Those deceitful sorcerers suffered worse than we did. The entire city is gone."

He glanced at Melitele's statue, inhaling deeply as though drawing strength from the sacred surroundings to relay the grim truth.

"Except for the sorcerers and apprentices within the academy, every human soul in Ban Ard…"

The duke exhaled, steeling himself.

"Not a single survivor," he repeated. "Not one. Ianna, not even one..."

"Guards defending the walls, merchants, craftsmen, nobles—from babbling infants to toothless elders..."

"In a single night, nearly twenty thousand souls perished, all consumed by the flames those cursed fiends unleashed."

-------------------------------

A suffocating silence enveloped the sacred space before Melitele's triune statues—of maiden, mother, and crone.

The war-hardened duke's heavy breaths betrayed his fear and horror, buried beneath a façade of composure.

Allen stared at the ground, silent, his thoughts inscrutable.

Ianna and Nenneke, already aware of Ban Ard's destruction but not its magnitude, found themselves involuntarily clenching their lips, their gazes drawn toward the statues.

What a heinous crime this was!

Even hearing it secondhand, the carnage felt as though it loomed directly before them—a mountain of corpses and rivers of blood, the stench so overpowering it drowned out the temple's fragrant lilac and gooseberry.

Nenneke, her gaze fixed on Melitele's statue, instinctively considered suggesting a different venue to continue the discussion. She feared such gruesome talk might defile the sacred space.

But she dismissed the notion.

To do so would be a greater desecration—a betrayal of Melitele, the Mother of All Things.

-----------------------------

The silence lingered for some time, each of them grappling with the magnitude of the tragedy.

Finally, Ianna broke the stillness, blinking slowly. "You said Hen Gedymdeith is dead. Who relayed this news?"

"A sorcerer named Sunny," the duke answered.

At the mention of the name, Allen's ears twitched almost imperceptibly. He lifted his gaze toward the duke.

"Augusta—the royal sorceress of Ellander—told me he's a senior figure at Ban Ard," the duke added. "She mentioned that Sunny belongs to the academy's radical faction, known for their hostility toward the School of the Wolf."

His tone grew solemn as he looked Allen in the eye. "If you return to Kaer Morhen, you'd best warn Vesemir of this."

Noticing Allen's peculiar expression, Ianna and Nenneke furrowed their brows. The duke couldn't resist asking, "What's wrong?"

Before Allen could respond, Ianna scowled and answered for him: "Before we arrived in Ellander, Sunny sent men to hunt down Allen and Vesemir."

The duke raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"For no reason at all," Allen replied, shaking his head. "Simply because we happened to pass near Ban Ard. So, yes, you're correct. The radicals hold the School of the Wolf in contempt."

The duke fell silent, his hand absently rubbing the pommel of his black cane.

"Forget about it," Allen said, waving a dismissive hand. "I doubt Ban Ard has the capacity to concern themselves with witchers right now. Please, continue. Was the news of Hen Gedymdeith'… demise also brought by Sunny?"

"The hero of Ellander will always have her support," the duke said firmly, clapping Allen on the shoulder. He then resumed his account.

"Sunny did not deliver the news of Hen Gedymdeith' death. He came to us…" The duke glanced at Ianna. "Primarily to the temple of Melitele, seeking aid. He hoped to leverage Melitele's influence across the North to halt the mass exodus of Ban Ard's survivors and convince them to return home."

"Foolishness!" Nenneke snorted coldly.

Return home? More likely, they needed bodies to clear the ruins and rebuild the city—and likely at great cost to their lives.

"The temple won't agree to this," Ianna stated flatly.

The duke didn't argue; he hadn't expected otherwise. He continued: "His second request: to hire temple healers and herbalists, renowned across the North."

"And the third: he wished for Melitele's temple to mediate peace talks between Kaedwen and Aedirn."

---------------------------

Having spoken, the duke quietly studied Ianna.

The cost of maintaining long-distance communication through a megascope was no small burden, especially over such distances. While Sunny's words were couched in the polished diplomacy characteristic of sorcerers, the duke was aware that Ellander's opinion mattered little to Ban Ard.

What truly concerned Sunny was Melitele's temple—and more specifically, Ianna's stance.

As for Ianna's response…

The archpriestess cast a glance at Allen, blinking slowly before answering: "The temple has never forced its healers or herbalists into servitude. Should they wish to serve a particular cause, they are free to do so."

That's a refusal… The duke glanced at Allen, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

As though no one knew how popular this witcher was among the temple staff.

Arthur and Sara—especially Arthur—had often heard reports from their subordinates.

Just last month, while treating city residents and soldiers, temple healers and herbalists had repeatedly inquired about Allen's heroic deeds during the May Festival.

Everyone knew how deeply sorcerers and witchers despised one another.

Why would anyone willingly volunteer to serve Ban Ard?

"As for the third request, let's set it aside for now. Tell me about Hen Gedymdeith's death first," Ianna shifted the topic. "Since it wasn't Sunny who told you, where did you get this information?"

"Alright," the old duke nodded slightly, organizing his thoughts for a few seconds before speaking.

"According to Sunny, Hen Gedymdeith is still in seclusion recovering from his injuries. Sunny claims he was simply nominated by Ban Ard to temporarily handle affairs..."

"But..." Ianna interrupted, "Just get to the 'but' part."

"I was getting to that," the old duke grumbled, tapping his cane on the ground in irritation. The solid floor beneath them bore the brunt, ending up with three or four small dents.

"But... Hmph... But not everyone believes that."

"The reason I came so late at night is that I was waiting for Augusta to gather more information."

"There are rumors within Ban Ard's inner circle. They claim that after Hen Gedymdeith unleashed forbidden magic to drive off the Wild Hunt, he was gravely weakened and then ambushed. Without time to manage the academy's affairs, he hurriedly secluded himself to recover."

"Then why say he's dead?" Nenneke asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Because of something that happened six days ago," the old duke explained.

"Sunny's faction, the Radicals, had been coexisting peacefully with other factions—at least outwardly—given the current calamity."

"But six days ago, in the dead of night, Sunny led a group of mages from his faction and sealed off Hen Gedymdeith's retreat, forbidding anyone from approaching."

"When the other factions suspected something was amiss and forced their way in, they discovered that Hen Gedymdeith's retreat had vanished."

"Vanished?" the three of them echoed in unison.

The old duke nodded slightly. "Yes, vanished. According to the source, Ban Ard's rector's office—which was serving as Hen Gedymdeith's retreat—was entirely excavated and gone."

"Afterward, Sunny used a simulacrum of the rector's office that resembled a far-seeing portal to claim that it was for Hen Gedymdeith's protection, effectively seizing control of the academy."

"Then Hen Gedymdeith isn't dead," Nenneke argued.

Ianna exchanged a meaningful glance with Allen, who also appeared deep in thought.

"Because, at the same time, a significant number of Radicals went missing as well," the old duke continued. "Around twenty of them. Not just mages from the intermediate council but also members of the senior council."

"Does it really take that many people to protect a convalescing Hen Gedymdeith?"

"Many mages in Ban Ard believe the Radicals attacked Hen Gedymdeith to seize power, resulting in the deaths of nearly twenty mages."

"Right now, they're holding back because they're uncertain of the truth..."

"Did this happen six days ago?" Ianna abruptly cut in.

The old duke paused, then furrowed his brow as he recalled. "Yes, six days ago, in the early hours. Is there an issue with that?"

Allen felt two pairs of complicated gazes subtly directed at him.

Feigning oblivion, he turned to the old duke and shifted the topic. "Is it possible that the missing twenty mages were dispatched for another task?"

The old duke fell for the diversion.

"Impossible!" His tone was firm. "Ban Ard has just endured a massive calamity. What task could require over ten senior and intermediate council mages?"

"The Wild Hunt is only scattered, and wandering threats still abound. Besides, these missing individuals were key figures in the Radicals. There's no way they fled."

"What's more, even Sunny and the remaining Radicals stammer and provide contradictory excuses when asked about their whereabouts. They clearly have something to hide."

"Of course..."

The old duke added a caveat. "We can't entirely rule out the possibility of factional rivalries deliberately spreading misinformation."

"But if it's true, I can't imagine any scenario where Hen Gedymdeith survives."

His reasoning was logical, well-supported, and thorough.

If Allen hadn't known better—having witnessed the deaths of those mages firsthand and recognized several of them from just days prior—even he might have been convinced.

Still...

Even if Hen Gedymdeith is alive now, under Sunny's 'protection,' can he really stay that way?

Allen had his doubts.

Although the "Source of Magic" experiment seemed to have failed based on the results seven days ago, some of the mages who died in that conflict were deeply involved in the project—chosen for their exceptional talent and painstakingly trained for at least two years under Hen Gedymdeith's direct guidance.

Hen Gedymdeith wasn't a heartless, ruthless individual.

If he recovered and regained power, would he truly forgive Sunny and the Radicals for their betrayal and the deaths of so many mages in pursuit of their selfish goals?

Unlikely.

Allen didn't believe it, and perhaps not even Sunny believed it.

Otherwise, why would they take such drastic action—seizing Hen Gedymdeith—at a time when unity against the Wild Hunt was paramount?

Their power, wealth, and even their safety depended on Ban Ard's stability. Did they not fear that Ban Ard might collapse because of this?

"Hen Gedymdeith has a nine-in-ten chance of dying at Sunny's hands," Allen thought.

Which begs the question.

With Ban Ard standing as the front line against the Wild Hunt, what will happen if they lose their strongest asset, Hen Gedymdeith?

Both the Wild Hunt and the scheming mages posed formidable threats.

Should he intervene somehow?

.....

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)

386. The Gambler's Table of Fate.

387. The Anomaly at Moën Village.

388. The Great Calamity Hidden in the Dark.

389. The Swarm of Ghouls.

390. The Mutation of the Monster Nest.


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