Chương 298: 299. The Heavily Guarded Kaer Morhen.
"Splash, splash~"
Falling a step behind, Allen was just wondering why there would be the sound of a rushing waterfall near the ancient fortress when he heard the Witcher master's exclamation. He hurried forward a few steps, leading his horse past Vesemir.
The next moment...
Allen also stopped in his tracks, stunned, sharing the same puzzlement as Vesemir.
"Is this really Kaer Morhen?"
The gray, hardened gatehouse still somewhat retained its original shape, but the faint, chilling gleam seen through the gaps in the battlements was enough to make one's hair stand on end.
The drawbridge had clearly been modified; although it was still narrow, allowing only two horses to ride abreast, its length had been extended by at least three times compared to what he remembered.
Below it now flowed a defensive moat fed by some unknown source.
Originally, this area had been a dry depression, even overgrown with weeds. Now, however, a powerful, waterfall-like current surged through it.
Allen could well imagine how an attacking enemy would meet a terrible fate if they fell into such a moat.
Only now did Allen notice that the walls along the path had also been visibly repaired; the cracks and worn-out sections from years past had all been patched up. The climbing vines and other creeping plants that had made it easier to scale the walls were also gone.
More importantly…
The Witcher guards stationed in key locations, though youthful and fresh-faced, were clearly much more disciplined and focused than the lazy guards Allen had encountered when he first arrived.
The entire fortress seemed to bare its fangs, threatening any hidden enemies, revealing a menacing facade.
It was intimidating.
"Who goes there!" A somewhat inexperienced but stern voice shouted.
The group had just turned a corner at the end of a long slope, separated by the moat and still at least three or four hundred meters from the gate, when the guard on the gatehouse ordered them to halt.
Vesemir and Allen exchanged glances, still unaccustomed to this new level of discipline from the fortress guards, having grown used to the previously lax standards. But before they could announce their identities, another head popped up from the battlements on the wall.
"It's Master Vesemir! And Commander Allen!" The young guard shouted with delight.
A buzz of excitement then erupted out of sight of the Witchers, with young voices chatting eagerly.
"Commander Allen? The youngest Witcher master who created the drowner heart extract potion..."
"I heard he killed the Cyclops, the Drowner King..."
"He also killed a wraith..."
"You all don't know as much as I do. He also killed those male sorcerers from Ban Ard and the King, and the royal family of Kaedwen didn't dare make a sound, even giving him the title of Blue Death!"
-------------------
Allen knew these young-looking people were probably a new batch of Witcher apprentices who had survived the Trial of the Grasses.
At first, listening to these past accomplishments filled his vanity nicely, but the more he listened, the more something seemed off.
The first three were indeed his achievements…
But the last two had nothing to do with him—at least not on the surface…
And the title "Blue Death" certainly wasn't granted by the Kaedwen royal family…
Who was spreading these rumors?
Allen shot a glance at a certain girl whose face was flushed with embarrassment.
"It wasn't me… I didn't… don't make stuff up…" Mary protested, waving her hands in front of her chest so quickly they left afterimages.
"Did I ask you?" Allen thought to himself.
He'd found the culprit. But honestly, she was the only suspect.
In this era, information didn't travel so quickly; something that happened over a month ago in Ban Ard wouldn't have reached Kaer Morhen so soon, hidden deep in the mountains. The leader, Vera, and Mary were the only ones who had returned to Kaer Morhen.
And among them, only Mary held the position of chief sorceress of the Witcher Corps.
There was no need for any further deduction to figure out who leaked the news.
"Move aside, let me see… let me see what Commander Allen looks like!"
"Don't push! I was here first; let me look, let me look…"
The gatehouse was in a complete uproar, like a bunch of chicks fighting over food, or like a group of followers welcoming their mountain king. The feeling of strict discipline vanished without a trace. It was as if a ferocious beast had shed its defenses, revealing a group of playful kittens under the fierce tiger skin.
It was amusing, really.
Then again...
The group of Witcher apprentices who survived the Trial of the Grasses alongside Allen were at most fourteen years old.
The next batch were mostly eleven or twelve.
And the ones clamoring to see Allen up on the gatehouse were likely no older than ten, which in his previous life would make them elementary school students, so it didn't seem all that strange.
In fact...
The fact they could even keep up the appearance of strict discipline without preparation was already impressive.
It showed that the plans he had set in place for the Witcher Corps before descending the mountain were having an effect, and that the ancient sea fortress finally had the look of a true stronghold.
At least it wouldn't be as in the past, where a few rock trolls would scare the guards into abandoning the walls.
Of course...
It wasn't all his doing.
To be able to train a group of ten-year-olds like this, even if they were Witchers who had started trials young, his deputy commander, Master Aristo, certainly had some skill.
"Everyone, back to your posts! Back to your posts!" Mary stepped forward and shouted.
But her voice was so soft that it was completely drowned out by the chattering from the gatehouse.
In fact, her appearance seemed to excite the Witcher apprentices even more, and the noise grew louder.
Until…
Vera, expressionless and silent, rode her horse around the corner. The Witcher apprentices on the gatehouse quieted down in unison. Those farther back who hadn't seen her arrival were asking, "What's going on…?"
"The evil old witch is here…" muttered one of the front-row Witcher apprentices in a tiny voice.
In an instant...
The ancient fortress fell silent. Even Allen and Vesemir held their breath. Compared to Witchers, sorcerers excelled in perception and mysticism. What they could hear, Lady Vera could certainly hear as well.
As for who the "evil old witch" referred to…
One look at Mary's pale, trembling face gave away the answer.
Though whether she, as the chief sorceress of the Witcher Corps, had "earned" this unflattering nickname was unclear.
"Clip-clop, clip-clop~"
The sound of hooves echoed slowly. As she passed by Mary, Vera's horse paused briefly, then continued toward the fortress. From Allen's vantage point, he could see Vera glance at Mary, expressionless.
Instantly, the young sorceress, the esteemed chief sorceress of the Witcher Corps, looked ashen. The young guard at the gate who had initially greeted them enthusiastically stopped in his tracks.
Though their senses weren't as keen and they hadn't heard the exchange on the gatehouse, they too sensed something amiss and silently stepped back, standing like statues at either side of the open gate.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Vesemir and Allen exchanged glances, then nudged their horses forward and followed the sorceress into Kaer Morhen.
"What should we do, Allen?" Mary asked anxiously in a low voice as they passed by her, her face pale.
Allen glanced at Vera's tall figure ahead, then leaned over to Mary and whispered, "Did… did you teach them that nickname?"
"I… I wouldn't dare…" Mary denied it hurriedly.
This year, Vera had been in charge of the Trial of Grasses, so it was normal for the apprentices to have a bit of a psychological shadow from her.
"That's alright; they're just kids being mischievous, speaking without a filter. Lady Vera has a good temper—there won't be any problems."
Mary's mouth dropped open when she heard this, staring at Allen in disbelief.
Lady Vera has a good temper?
Which eye did you see that with, and how did you come to that conclusion?
Vesemir also looked at him with a confused expression.
The witcher master wasn't foolish. After traveling through so many portals, he'd already realized that he must have somehow offended the Scarlet Fox. The only reason he'd held on until now was partly his reluctance to lose to his apprentice and partly to let Vera vent her anger. Even though he had no idea what he'd done to upset her.
And this is what he calls "a good temper"?
Besides…
Kids being mischievous?
You're only fourteen yourself…
Vesemir scratched his broad-brimmed black hat.
But, thinking it over, Vera had indeed never spoken harshly to Allen. She'd always helped him with great dedication.
The "Verdant Sigh" worth over ten thousand orens—she'd just handed it over. And, reportedly, she'd filled the sanctum at the Melitele Temple with expensive materials, letting Allen study rituals (or waste them) as he pleased.
More caring than a mother, really.
Given Allen's matter-of-fact expression, Vesemir and Mary suddenly felt utterly defeated, with no desire to argue further.
Fine, let it be…
Maybe because they were on the same wavelength, Vesemir and Mary exchanged a look of mutual sympathy and understanding. Sighing, they headed toward the fortress together.
Allen shrugged and followed them.
Though Vesemir and Mary didn't see Vera as a particularly patient person, she did, as Allen said, ignore the nickname the young witchers on the gate had called her. She rode into the fortress without a word, not even glancing at the students.
Perhaps they realized things had gone awry, or maybe they were simply afraid of Vera, so they didn't try to come down and pester the other three.
For his part, Allen was glad to have some peace.
The journey had been tiring.
Thanks to his "Spatial Control," traveling through portals no longer overwhelmed him, and he'd been resting well recently. Still, a returning wanderer feels a lightness, as if laying down a heavy burden.
Under the sunny skies, with a cool breeze and a faint scent of grass, he began to feel a bit drowsy as he swayed on his horse.
Today, he didn't want to think about anything—no kings, sorcerers, Wild Hunt, or White Frost…
He just wanted to be back in his "penthouse," open the balcony, soak in a hot bath under the bright summer sky of Kaer Morhen, and get a good half-day's sleep.
---------------------
Summer at Kaer Morhen was particularly quiet.
Even in late autumn, elderly or disabled witchers sometimes opened small blacksmith or tailor shops along the walls, but now every door was shut tight. They led their horses to the southern tower of the castle without seeing a single soul.
If it weren't early summer and warm even here in Kaer Morhen, it might have felt like a ghost town.
"The witchers of the School of the Wolf usually leave the mountains by this time," Vesemir explained when he noticed Allen looking around.
"The fortress should only have the apprentices and the masters responsible for their training, like Whitelock and Aristo."
"They're probably all in the northwest corner now; you'll see them at dinner tonight."
Mary added, "Grandmaster Sol is here too… At least, when I left Kaer Morhen a month ago, he was still in the castle hall."
"Hmm?"
Vesemir looked puzzled and turned to Mary.
Though Sol was the head of the Wolf School, he actually spent very little time at Kaer Morhen.
Like the other witchers, he followed contracts that came in during autumn and winter, leaving Kaer Morhen to slay monsters that threatened humanity. It was the same routine for decades. Sometimes he returned even later in winter than other witchers.
"Why is the Grandmaster here at this time?" Vesemir was a little puzzled. However, when he saw the elegant figure of Vera, he suddenly understood.
Ah, of course!
In the past, there was no sorceress named Vera here at Kaer Morhen…
No wonder the Grandmaster…
While he was silently mulling it over, he suddenly sensed a cold gaze on him. He immediately straightened up, adjusted his wide-brimmed black hat to hide his expression, and dared not indulge in any more idle thoughts.
"Tie the horses here; I'll take them down to the village tomorrow," Vera said, pointing expressionlessly to the training ground below the tower.
Kaer Morhen didn't have a stable.
The Killer or the trail was designed so narrowly and perilously that most horses couldn't make it up, so the school's witchers generally kept their horses down in Kaer Village, where the villagers took care of them.
Following Vera's instructions, they all tied their horses to posts at the edge of the training ground.
Vesemir thanked Vera and, considering that the Grandmaster was at Kaer Morhen, thought about taking Allen to discuss the proposal for relocating the school brought up by Duke Mason. But as he was about to speak, he noticed the fatigue on Allen's face and softened a bit.
"You go rest first. I'll go see the Grandmaster."
"I'll go with you…" Allen, though eager for a hot bath, understood the importance of the situation.
"No need," Vesemir shook his head, stopping him. "It's just a brief update; one person is enough."
Allen thought it over and didn't press.
The relocation of the school wasn't something that could be decided in a day or two, after all.
Once Vesemir left, Vera had already gone into the tower.
Mary, feeling miserable, clung tightly to Yennefer's hand, not daring to follow.
"Come on; it has nothing to do with you. Lady Vera wouldn't hold a grudge like that," Allen said, patting her on the shoulder in reassurance. Then he crouched down to comfort Yennefer, who was a bit anxious about her first visit to Kaer Morhen.
Seeing Mary still unwilling to go, he thought for a moment and said, "How about you come up a little later?"
"I'll go to Lady Vera's place first and say a few nice words for you."
.....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
300. The Evolution of the Mirage Pearl.
301. Do You Want to Be the Chief?
302. "Daddy's" Favorite Child.
303. Who's Stronger, the Commander or the Deputy Commander?
304. My Apprentice Can Trick Me a Second Time?
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực