Danthe was completely dumbfounded.
During the day, when Fred was captured by the powerful Leshen, the first people he went looking for were Hughes and Bond.
In the end, Hughes had left a trail of blood—it was easy to discover that he had jumped into a nearby river.
As for Bond, because he had been positioned at the back during the attack, the Leshen's attention had been drawn by him, Hughes, and Fred.
After the Quen shield broke, he wasn't injured. In a panic, he just ran wherever he could.
Only a flock of crows flying overhead chased after him.
Meanwhile, the Leshen's plant manipulation spells, the wolves' biting charges, and the fire burns from Signs and kinetic shockwaves had ravaged the soft earth nearby into a complete mess.
So…
It wasn't that there were no traces left, it was just that no direction could be clearly identified.
Even if the Chief Sol and Master Whitelock came, they'd have to study the area carefully for quite a while before maybe being able to identify the right trail.
And Allen—just a witcher who had only recently passed the Trial of the Mountain—on what grounds?
Being strong was one thing, but could he really be good at everything…?
Damn it!
He really was!
Danthe realized Allen was indeed walking in the exact direction Bond had originally fled, matching perfectly with his memory of the twisting, chaotic path left behind by the crows chasing him.
"If I remember correctly, you were the one who taught Allen how to track…"
He leaned in toward Vesemir in disbelief.
"That's right," Vesemir proudly held his head high. "Back at Kaer Morhen, I did teach him the basics of tracking."
Though in his mind, he added: 'But what he's using now... might not be what I taught him anymore...'
Danthe couldn't hear Vesemir's inner thoughts, and was struck with deep respect.
Enjoying this rare reverent gaze from Danthe, Vesemir felt secretly pleased and decided he would definitely find a chance later to ask Allen to keep it a secret for a while.
"All right," noticing the strange looks coming from the younger witchers around them, Vesemir quickly changed the subject.
"Danthe, stay alert. Don't let your guard down. You don't understand Allen like I do—if he says the Leshen isn't dead, then it definitely isn't."
Danthe raised an eyebrow. "Even if it's just a feeling?"
"Especially if it's a feeling," Vesemir nodded seriously. "Did you forget? It was Allen's precognitive dream that warned the school that the King of Kaedwen and the mages of Ban Ard were plotting against Kaer Morhen."
"And it turned out, his feeling was right."
Danthe paused for a moment, then nodded. "Mm… Got it. I'll stay sharp."
"But speaking of the king and the mages," he frowned slightly, "after the king's death, how did Hen Gedymdeith handle the conflict between Ban Ard and the Kaedwen royal family? Did Lado take the throne?"
"I remember Lado was a mild-tempered heir. He shouldn't hold a grudge against the school, right?"
He glanced at Erni and Klar, who were keeping watch around them. "You two must've returned to the school—any news?"
Vesemir's steps faltered.
Hearing Danthe's question, a strong sense of dissonance rushed in, and for a moment, he didn't know how to even begin to respond.
Hen Gedymdeith had already been overthrown by Sunny, his fate unknown—no longer the ancient legendary mage representing Ban Ard, or anyone for that matter...
The conflict between Ban Ard and Kaedwen royalty had long since lost all relevance in the face of war...
Lado had ascended, yes, but no one even knew if he was alive or dead now—let alone whether he bore any grudge toward the school...
And as for the Kaedwen royal family...
At this point, it was even uncertain whether the Kingdom of Kaedwen would still exist on the Northern Continent...
"Uh…" Vesemir hesitated. "You didn't hear that Aedirn declared war on Kaedwen?"
"Aedirn declared war on Kaedwen?" Danthe's brown cat-like eyes widened. "When did that happen? How could Aedirn dare? Even if there was a rift between Kaedwen's royal family and Ban Ard, crushing Aedirn should be easy for them, right?"
Vesemir couldn't help but ask, "And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?"
"Does that even need guessing?" Danthe shot Vesemir a sideways glance. "Kaedwen's territory is nearly twice the size of Aedirn's. How could they possibly lose?"
"For the past few decades, Kaedwen has always had the upper hand over Aedirn."
"Uh..." Vesemir's expression froze again. He thought to himself, 'Good thing I've always backed Allen since Kaer Morhen. If the fate of the Wolf School really depended on this bunch of muscle-heads who only know how to compare territory sizes, we'd be doomed.'
"What's wrong?" Danthe frowned.
Not only did Vesemir look odd, but the young witchers around them who overheard the conversation were also giving strange looks. Even Allen, leading at the front, turned back to glance at him.
"It's nothing..." Vesemir glared at a few of the young witchers who were getting increasingly bold with their stares, and carefully picked his words. "The situation is... complicated. I can't explain it all in a short time, but from what I know—Aedirn currently has the upper hand in the war."
"How is that possible?" Danthe cried out in disbelief. "How could Kaedwen be losing to Aedirn?"
"Wait a minute..."
"I left Kaer Morhen only three or four months ago. At most, the war broke out three months ago. You guys were in Kaedwen just a few days ago, so the latest intel you have is probably from a month or two ago at most..."
"And Kaedwen's already showing signs of defeat in just over a month?"
"Is Kaedwen's army that fragile?"
"Could it be that the new king, Lado, in his thirst for revenge, completely pushed Ban Ard into Aedirn's arms?"
"Did Hen Gedymdeith secretly make a move?"
Danthe's guesses got more and more far-fetched, to the point that Vesemir couldn't help but interrupt him: "Hen Gedymdeith didn't make a move..."
Danthe lowered his head, deep in thought, ignoring Vesemir and continuing his speculation.
"Aedirn has the upper hand…"
"If you know that much detail, then—don't tell me Aedirn has already crossed the Pontar River and invaded Kaedwen?"
He looked up at Vesemir.
Vesemir took a deep breath and nodded.
"Gods!" Danthe held his breath. "That's a catastrophe!"
If it were just a skirmish along the border, both sides of the war would simply use it as an excuse to raise taxes.
But once a war breaches the national borders, then all bets are off. For both the invaders and the invaded, nothing is off-limits.
"There's been a surge in ghoul-related contracts coming from Kaedwen..."
Danthe let out a quiet sigh, his mood clearly sinking.
Vesemir was silent for a few seconds, then sighed as well. "Danthe, I haven't even finished yet..."
'There's more?'
Danthe blinked in surprise.
Vesemir took a deep breath and gathered his words. "Aedirn didn't just cross the Pontar River and invade Kaedwen's territory—they reportedly captured Ard Carraigh."
"Ard Carraigh?" Danthe didn't grasp the weight of that right away. He lowered his head in thought, the name sounding vaguely familiar.
A second later, he suddenly looked up at Vesemir. "Ard Carraigh?"
"Ard Carraigh."
"Kaedwen's capital, Ard Carraigh?"
Vesemir nodded firmly.
The back-and-forth between the two witcher veterans would've been amusing, if not for the weight of the news.
Even the younger witchers, who lacked a strong sense of national identity, could feel how serious this was.
This wasn't a minor event.
They always claimed to remain neutral—but people have feelings. Absolute neutrality was a myth.
Take the Wolf School's former master, Sol, for example. When Henselt the Glutton was just a child, Sol offered protection to his widowed mother and introduced them to trustworthy mages, knights, and nobles. Was that really neutral?
Of course not.
A leader who commands powerful warriors—ones who can directly affect the safety of towns and villages—can never be truly neutral. Even without drawing a sword, his stance influences the politics of Kaedwen.
What kind of neutrality is that?
But it was understandable. Witchers were still human, and compassion was part of being human.
That's why, had Kaedwen's nobles and mages not gone too far...
Once the news spreads, some witchers of the Wolf School will surely follow in the footsteps of Griffin School's Coën from later generations—fighting for the Northern Kingdoms in the war against Nilfgaard. They'll break from the Wolf School to fight for the remnants of Kaedwen against Aedirn's army.
Of course, that's unlikely to happen now.
It was Kaedwen itself… Henselt brought this upon them.
"Are you sure the news is accurate?" Danthe finally recovered from the shock, his brows tightly furrowed. "This isn't something you joke about. Do you know what it means for Ard Carraigh to fall?"
"It means the fall of Kaedwen as a nation," Vesemir replied flatly. "Of course I know."
"And there's no mistake."
"This came from Ban Ard. It's already been confirmed by the kings of several kingdoms over the past few days."
Though Tissaia de Vries' spies hadn't returned yet, refugees had begun arriving at the borders of Temeria and Redania. As long as you're willing to spend the coin, it's possible to piece together a general picture from scattered bits of rumor.
For instance, it was clear that refugees from Ard Carraigh wouldn't have escaped quickly.
But the villages and towns along Aedirn's march had fled early on.
Therefore, it's now essentially confirmed—
Ard Carraigh has fallen.
Danthe fell silent for a long time, trying to digest the staggering news.
The younger witchers, sensing the mood, also fell quiet.
The entire group walked silently, following Allen as they moved swiftly out of the oak forest.
"Don't think too much," Vesemir gently patted Danthe's shoulder. "We've done enough for Kaedwen. It's not the Wolf School that owes them—it's them who let us down."
"I know, Vesemir," Danthe pressed his lips together, sighing. "But isn't it always the one who gives the most… that ends up caring the deepest?"
"Don't worry," Danthe forced a strained smile. "I just need a bit of time to process this."
Vesemir didn't respond.
"By the way, does the master know yet?" Danthe asked.
"I sent word to him a few days ago."
"Good… that's good…" Danthe looked up at the sky. "He must be taking it hard. Of everyone in the Wolf School, he gave the most to Kaedwen…"
Vesemir didn't reply. He kept his head down, deep in thought.
And once again, silence fell over the entire group—until:
"Be alert, we're almost out of the oak forest," Allen, leading the group, suddenly spoke. "If the Leshen is going to attack again, it'll most likely be around here."
Everyone immediately became vigilant.
Even Danthe, who had initially dismissed the threat, refreshed his Quen shield without hesitation.
Then—
Cautiously, the group crossed the forest's edge without incident.
"The Leshen really didn't show up again…" Allen frowned, thinking.
He didn't believe there was anything wrong with the Witcher's Bestiary.
After all, it could even strip the powers of eldritch gods—what was a Leshen compared to that? There's no way the bestiary could be faulty.
"It must have 'died' once and expended too much power," he reasoned. "But… that still doesn't add up. When we hunted wolves and bears—non-magical beasts—there were always bounty evaluations. Even if we didn't kill the Leshen, there should've been a wolf or raven hunt summary."
"This only means one thing—either we haven't truly left the Leshen's territory and we're still in danger, or we have left its territory, but the danger is still following us…"
Allen looked at Danthe. "Is the Leshen's domain larger than just this oak forest?"
Just as Danthe relaxed after exiting the oak forest and began to sheathe his sword, his hand froze mid-motion. He frowned and said, "It should've just been that stretch of forest. During the day, moving through the oak woods made it easy to be ambushed, but outside the forest, it felt safe…"
"This morning too, we weren't attacked until we stepped into the forest."
"I forgot to ask," Vesemir spoke up at this point. "Why did you bring Hughes, Bond, and Fred to this godforsaken wilderness? That's not like you at all… Allen… what are you doing?"
He saw Allen, who was leading the group, suddenly stop in his tracks—and the whole party halted with him.
"If we've truly left the Leshen's territory," Allen muttered quietly, turning back to them, "then someone must be carrying something of the Leshen's… something dangerous to us."
"Ah!" Ice jumped in fright and immediately threw the elk skull mask he was holding onto the ground.
Clay, Hugh, Spencer, and Silo all followed suit, dropping smaller deer skulls.
They hadn't managed to grab the actual Leshen's skull—but they had picked up magical totems.
But Allen didn't even glance at the bones on the ground. Instead, he walked toward Ice.
Ice's expression changed instantly. He hurriedly set Fred down and waved his hands nervously. "Captain, I didn't take anything else, just this one skull—huh?"
Ice watched as Allen walked past him and stopped before the unconscious Fred.
"That's right…" Allen thought to himself. "Besides the magical totems, the one who came into closest contact with the Leshen… is Fred."
"And despite showing no serious external injuries, he hasn't woken up after everything that's happened…"
In their rush to find Bond and leave the Leshen's territory, Allen hadn't thought much of it at the time. But now, the more he considered it, the more it felt like something was off.
And besides that…
Allen vaguely recalled something from the bestiary in his previous life—the game mentioned the Leshen could cast some sort of curse on humans.
He couldn't remember the details clearly. After all, curses never concerned his Geralt build. When he opened the bestiary, he usually only paid attention to monsters' weaknesses and vulnerabilities.
But he was certain—it had been mentioned.
"Everyone, back away from Fred! Stay alert!"
Allen gave a sharp command.
....
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