Capítulo 232: 233: War? War!
After instructing his subordinates to lead the soldiers back to the barracks, Terek led the three companions into the bustling and clean inner city. They stopped in front of a three-story building with a wooden sign hanging from it, shaped like a wine bottle.
White marble exterior walls, intricately carved oak window frames, and various types of fragrant flowers carefully arranged at the entrance...
Exquisite luxury.
As soon as the four dismounted, a middle-aged man dressed in a silk robe and wearing a small round hat quickly ran out of the building. Terek seemed to be in a hurry and didn't wait for the man to stop before giving orders: "Jacob, these three are esteemed guests of the king. Arrange the best rooms for them."
"I will pay."
Then, he turned to Vesemir, Allen, and Mary: "This is the best inn in Vengerberg. You can rest here for now. Once I report to His Majesty, I'll come back to escort you to the royal castle for an audience."
"If you have any requests, just speak with Jacob. He's the owner of this inn."
It was clear that the inn was quite impressive, and neither Vesemir, Allen, nor Mary had any objections. Besides, reality wasn't like in the games; trophies didn't come with attribute or experience boosts.
The griffin head was kept mainly to claim a bounty from the kingdom of Aedirn. This was an unspoken rule between witchers and human nobles. As long as the monster caused human casualties or economic losses, or even posed a significant potential threat, witchers could slay the creature first.
Afterward, they could claim a bounty from the local nobility without worrying about doing the job for free. Of course, since it was an unspoken rule, it naturally depended on the witcher's overall strength and the number of monsters killed. Thus, such benefits could only be enjoyed during this flourishing era of witcher schools.
Additionally, as long as the condition was good, the heads of large monsters were valuable collectibles, comparable to fine paintings or sculptures by famous artists. Based on Vesemir's years of experience, the griffin head, carefully severed by a witcher's blade, was top-quality, easily fetching at least three thousand orens.
It had to be said, as long as a witcher had the skills, there were plenty of ways to make money. Therefore, the trio naturally had to wait until they received the bounty before departing.
"You go ahead, we'll wait here," Vesemir nodded slightly.
Seeing that the three were satisfied with the place, Terek bid them farewell and turned to leave.
"Let's go inside!" Allen said softly.
At that moment, a small black figure on the horse moved slightly, as if nodding.
Before entering the city, the small creature had wrapped itself entirely in a black cloth provided by Mary, leaving no gaps visible.
After dismounting and gently lifting Yennefer down, the innkeeper, Jacob, came up to greet them. He had a friendly smile, matching his plump figure, and was quite knowledgeable. Seeing the fully-wrapped Yennefer and the griffin head hanging from the saddle, he didn't say much, speaking in a calm tone: "Esteemed guests, do you have any further arrangements? Your horses will be taken to the stables by the servants."
"If you don't mind, we can also find someone to handle this archgriffin head for you."
"Hmm?" The three were a bit surprised by Jacob's words.
After all, even the vice-captain of the Aedirn royal knight squad hadn't recognized the shrunken archgriffin head. Yet, this ordinary merchant had identified it.
"Are you sure this is a archgriffin?" Mary asked curiously. "Not just a regular griffin?"
"You should know, archgriffin heads aren't usually this small."
The innkeeper, Jacob, smiled warmly and shook his head. "You must be joking, madam. Griffins have white faces and blue beaks..."
"A red face and black beak is certainly a archgriffin, without a doubt."
"As for why it's so small..."
"I imagine it's due to the lady's magic. I recall there's a spell known as 'Shrink,' which can reduce the size of objects for a long period of time."
Though Jacob spoke in a casual tone, the three exchanged glances.
This seemingly kind and prosperous innkeeper, who looked like a neighborhood uncle, not only identified the monster's head but also correctly guessed Mary's identity and the magic she had used.
"Impressive!" Vesemir praised, "No wonder you run the best inn in Aedirn's inner city."
"Not at all," Jacob chuckled modestly, shaking his head. "It's just that I studied these matters while at Oxenfurt, so I took an interest and learned more."
"But Vesemir, Master Witcher, you're the truly impressive one."
"You know me?" Vesemir caught on to the key detail, trying to recall if he had ever met this man before but coming up blank.
Jacob gestured to the inn servants who had come to take the horses and then smiled and shook his head: "I don't know you personally."
"But the youngest Master Witcher in a hundred years is something of a legend in Oxenfurt. Many stories about you are told there..."
Hearing Jacob's words, Allen suddenly thought of something. Pressing his lips together, he used his witcher's strong body control to stifle his laughter.
Stories about Vesemir?
Most of those were probably not very proper, right?
However, Vesemir seemed to enjoy it, tipping his wide-brimmed black hat as the corners of his mouth involuntarily curled into a smile.
At that moment, Jacob, leading the way, glanced at the griffin head Allen had just handed to the inn servant. While walking ahead, he exclaimed: "Killing a regular griffin is already beyond the abilities of most Master Witchers, but a archgriffin..."
"The records in Oxenfurt Academy show that this kind of large monster usually requires at least three Master Witchers working together, except for Grandmasters like Dragonslayer Sol..."
"I didn't expect someone as young as Master Vesemir to have reached Grandmaster-level strength already..."
Jacob didn't finish his sentence. But everyone understood what he meant. Given how young Allen and Mary looked, it was obvious they couldn't have been the main force in the fight.
"Hahaha!"
Vesemir suddenly burst into laughter, causing Jacob to instinctively turn his head.
"Uh...what's the matter, Master Vesemir?"
"Hahaha, you guessed wrong..." Vesemir laughed, patting Jacob on the shoulder. "I didn't kill the archgriffin."
"Huh?" Jacob, usually calm and composed, was genuinely stunned for a moment.
Seeing Vesemir still laughing, his merchant's instincts kicked in, and he glanced at the blue-eyed young witcher, Allen. A thought crossed his mind for just a second before he dismissed it.
"The archgriffin was killed by Allen!"
Vesemir didn't keep him in suspense, proudly throwing his arm around the young witcher's shoulder and boasting: "The youngest Master Witcher in history, Allen..."
"He killed the archgriffin!"
"My apprentice!"
"Huh?" Jacob was stunned once more, even stopping in his tracks for a moment.
It was a rare lapse for someone as unflappable as him.
Jacob studied Allen closely, twice.
Unbelievable!
Absolutely unbelievable!
It really was this young witcher.
He couldn't possibly connect this youthful face—at most sixteen or seventeen years old—with the titles "Witcher Master" and "Archgriffin."
If not for the fact that the Archgriffin's head was intact. Forging a Witcher Master would bring no benefit to the Wolf School, Vesemir, or even Allen himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't have believed Vesemir's words. So, after a brief pause, Jacob continued leading the way while marveling: "Master Allen should still be under seventeen, right?"
"Fourteen," Mary proudly answered.
"Incredible, simply incredible!" Jacob exclaimed in astonishment.
And so, with the innkeeper's continuous praise, the three arrived at the top floor of the inn.
"Dear guests, your rooms are here."
The intricately carved wooden door was opened.
"Creak~"
A room similar in size to Allen's at Kaer Morhen appeared before them.
Dazzling magical crystal chandeliers, soft leather sofas, and a checkered carpet covering the entire floor...
Everything in the room looked extremely expensive. There were four more doors in the room, likely separating the bedrooms. The doors were carved with intricate designs, possibly depicting ancient heroes from the Witcher world.
A living room with four small bedrooms...
It was somewhat like a suite in a hotel from his previous life.
"Master Vesemir, Master Allen, and this young lady..." Jacob smiled, looking at Mary.
"Margarita Laux-Antille, just call me Mary," Mary introduced herself, seemingly having a good impression of the middle-aged merchant. "I'm the apprentice of Lady Vera, the Scarlet Fox."
"So, you're the esteemed apprentice of Lady Vera. No wonder you were able to cast a shrinking spell at such a young age," Jacob's surprise flashed across his eyes.
However, noticing the fatigue on the faces of the three, he didn't say much more.
"Master Vesemir, Master Allen, and Lady Mary, if there's nothing else, I shall take my leave."
"There's a magical bell by the door. Just give it a light shake, and I'll come right away."
Jacob pointed to the semi-transparent crystal bell at the door, then prepared to leave.
"Wait!"
Allen suddenly remembered something and called out to Jacob.
"Master Allen, do you have any orders?"
Jacob turned and looked kindly at the young witcher.
"Could you help me buy some dog tallow, white myrtle petals, and berbercane fruit?"
Jacob was momentarily taken aback. But out of professionalism, he didn't inquire further. After agreeing to the request, he closed the door and left.
"Bang~"
The door was shut.
After Yennefer took her brother to their room, Allen and Vesemir remained silent for a few seconds, waiting for the footsteps outside to completely fade. Allen then looked at Mary and asked:
"Mary, do you know how to cast the soundproofing barrier Lady Vera uses?"
Mary didn't respond.
She softly muttered a few incantations, and with a snap of her fingers, a magical barrier appeared around them, tinged in familiar soft red. Allen, staring at Mary's slender fingers, curiously asked: "Is snapping your fingers a special casting technique?"
"I've seen Lady Vera snap her fingers before casting, but she never recites incantations..."
Mary's hand paused mid-air, and she glared at Allen in frustration, not bothering to answer. Alright then...
Got it.
It was just a decorative action, without any real meaning.
Then.
Allen returned to the main topic and looked at the Witcher Master:
"Master Vesemir, what did you mean by that statement at the gates of Vengerberg?"
"What's wrong with Aedirn?"
Vesemir didn't answer immediately, lowering his head as if pondering how to organize his thoughts. Allen and Mary patiently waited, not rushing him.
"It's too fast!" Vesemir finally spoke.
"Too fast?" Allen blinked, instinctively asking, "What's too fast?"
"Terek and his royal knight order arrived too quickly..." Vesemir explained.
Allen and Mary exchanged glances.
Too quickly?
After killing the Archgriffin, helping the Kaedwen royal tutor Dyson with his case, saving a scoundrel, and even visiting Yennefer's old home...
The knights had only arrived now, and Vesemir thought that was fast?
Sensing their thoughts, Vesemir shook his head and said: "It's not what you're thinking..."
"Usually, when a large monster attacks a trade route, no matter how quickly it's handled, after layers of reports are filed..."
"Dispatching troops to search for the monster and deal with it usually takes at least a day, sometimes even three or four days. Some weaker kingdoms even ignore it altogether, leaving the issue for passing witchers to handle..."
"And Aedirn?"
Vesemir glanced gravely at Allen before continuing: "If you consider the timeline, they practically sent their fastest cavalry the moment they received the news..."
"What does that mean?"
"That road is important to them!" Allen frowned and replied.
Vesemir didn't need to continue his analysis.
The unexpectedly fast response time, the long line of grain merchants at the gates of Vengerberg, and Terek, who had already received news of Henselt's death yet kept seeking confirmation from them...
"Aedirn plans to start a war with Kaedwen while its king is newly dead, and there's discord between Ban Ard and the new monarch!"
Allen suddenly said.
"How did you know?"
Vesemir, who had intended to guide his apprentice patiently, was genuinely surprised. He had only just started, and Allen had already deduced the conclusion. Vesemir stared at his apprentice in disbelief.
Alchemy, swordsmanship, and signs were understandable talents—natural gifts coupled with rigorous training.
But politics? Vesemir, a man in his fifties, had taken the entire journey to piece it together.
Where had Allen learned this?
Did Lady Vera give him private lessons?
"I guessed."
Allen didn't elaborate and brushed it off casually.
The old adage "an army marches on its stomach" was something even children from his previous life knew.
How could he not understand?
Besides, Kaedwen and Aedirn had been blood enemies for ages. During Henselt's reign, there were dozens of skirmishes along the border.
Even the motive was clear. The only reason Allen hadn't realized it sooner was due to his lack of knowledge about the Witcher world. And, in his past life, the concept of war had always been distant.
Vesemir didn't dwell on it either. Nodding, he proceeded to explain the details of his analysis. The conclusion was the same as Allen's. However, due to Vesemir's lack of teaching talent, Mary ended up feeling confused and ultimately remembered only the conclusion Allen had mentioned earlier.
Once Vesemir finished, Mary hesitated for a moment and then asked, puzzled: "But if Aedirn and Kaedwen go to war, what does that have to do with you... with us, the Wolf School?"
....…
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234. The Witcher Who Changed the Future.
235. Archgriffin, Give Me Some Points!
236. Set a Small Goal First!
237. The Iron Knight Flying in the Sky and the Ominous Skeleton Soldiers.
238. The Wild Hunt and the Ants.
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