The Witcher: Wolf School’s Hunting Notes

"How much longer?"

Allen secretly squeezed Francesca's hand.

"Two minutes!"

The "Daisy of the Valleys" instinctively replied. Feeling uncomfortable with her right hand being held, she tried to pull it back, but upon opening her eyes and seeing the fierce and menacing rock trolls around her, she flinched and then instinctively tightened her grip on Allen's hand before finally letting go after a few seconds.

Huh?

Why are all these monsters just standing there?

And the Witcher, the house... What are they saying?

Immersed in restoring her mental energy as per the Witcher's instructions, Francesca hadn't noticed what was happening around her. Now, she realized that although the rock trolls were all burly and fierce-looking, none of them had attacked. Her bright blue eyes lit up, and she looked at the Witcher in surprise.

"Witcher, how... how did you manage this?"

"Shh!"

Allen pressed his index finger to his lips without looking back. His attention was entirely focused on Stonehead, and he whispered, "When I shout your name, hold tightly onto my neck, and don't let go. Got it?"

"Huh?"

Francesca tilted her head in confusion.

But before she could ask further...

"Roar!"

As soon as Stone roared, the Witcher instantly switched his silver sword to his right hand and quickly cast another Quen shield on himself.

"Witcher enemy... metal stick hurts... trolls stay away... throw stone... smash!!!"

Before the words had even finished, Stone was the first to lift a massive stone, nearly as big as Allen, by his side.

"Francesca!" Allen shouted, immediately wrapping his arms around the "Daisy of the Valleys's" waist and pulling her into his arms. At that moment, Francesca understood the meaning behind the Witcher's words and instinctively clung to his neck.

So light!

The thought flashed through Allen's mind. This elf seemed even lighter than Elsa.

The next moment, the Witcher caught a scent of white rose and cedarwood. However, Allen couldn't spare any more attention on Francesca at this point. He gritted his teeth, his muscles tensed, and he pushed off the ground with his right foot, launching himself forward.

"Whoosh~"

A large boulder, about the same size as him, almost brushed past his hair as he sprang forward. The gust of wind blew the hair on his forehead.

"Boom!"

The moment the boulder hit the ground behind him, it shattered into countless pieces, scattering in all directions. Some of the fragments shot toward the Witcher's back. However, the high-level Quen shield, combined with his 41 points of mysticism, easily absorbed the impact of the flying debris.

The faint golden shield on his leather armor flickered briefly before disappearing again.

"Ah!"

A sharp scream echoed. The massive stone had passed right in front of her eyes. With the night vision capability of her nightcap, Francesca could clearly see every crack on the rock's surface. The shadow of death had never come so close to her—less than half a meter away. This "new" experience made Francesca scream in terror.

The scream burst in Allen's ears, making him think Francesca had been hit by the debris.

Without hesitation, he slid his left hand under Francesca's knees, gripping his right hip tightly to secure her legs while providing support for her thighs.

Then...

"Bend down, lower your head, curl up!"

Allen ducked under another boulder thrown from the right, shouting loudly. Terrified, Francesca quickly obeyed, curling up like a baby, clutching the front of the Witcher's leather armor tightly with both hands.

"Keep restoring your mental energy!"

Feeling Francesca adjust her position, Allen immediately quickened his pace.

Though his strength of thirty-one points wasn't enough to allow him to drag a Drowner King back to Kaer Morhen like Vesemir, the light and presumably seventy-to-eighty-pound Francesca didn't significantly affect Allen's agility, especially when running away.

In the vast cave, stones of various sizes flew through the air, kicking up gray dust as they fell like a rainstorm toward Allen. Naturally, the Witcher couldn't dodge all the stones. He could only do his best to avoid the large ones and let the Quen shield absorb the damage from the smaller, slower stones.

After dodging yet another huge boulder thrown by Stone, Allen noticed something.

"Clang!"

The silver sword was sheathed. In such an onslaught, with his current strength, the silver sword wouldn't be able to cut through the incoming stones. Furthermore, if he accidentally injured or killed one or two rock trolls, it wouldn't just be meaningless but extremely dangerous.

According to what Allen had learned from the boulders, the rock trolls' attack mode involved throwing stones as a form of probing and warning, intended to drive away or intimidate enemies rather than kill them outright.

In their simple minds, this was even a form of play.

Allen had noticed that some of the smaller rock trolls had started playfully tussling with each other while throwing stones. Others had begun slacking off, only seriously participating in the first wave of attacks, with the frequency of their throws noticeably decreasing.

He even caught sight of a rock troll glancing at Stone before lazily tossing a boulder that didn't even travel a meter. Not all the rock trolls seemed to harbor deep resentment towards Vesemir, it appeared.

However, if he did harm one of them...

The image of a dozen stone mountains charging at him suddenly flashed in Allen's mind, causing him to shudder. Thus, the silver sword was useless. It was better to free up a hand for casting signs, and it could also serve to disguise himself and demoralize the other trolls.

"Boom!"

The semi-transparent shockwave swept past a rock troll four meters away, causing it to lose balance while holding up a stone and instinctively release its grip. The boulder, succumbing to gravity, immediately fell and smashed into the troll's head.

"Ouch!"

With a cry, the troll naturally curled up into a ball on the ground, inadvertently or deliberately knocking over two nearby rock trolls.

"Uh..."

"This is a pleasant surprise!"

Allen thought grimly, ready to dash toward the fallen rock trolls and use them as shields.

"Bang!"

The Quen shield suddenly shattered.

"Attack from behind!"

The Witcher frowned and unleashed a shockwave in the direction of the impact to prevent it from affecting Francesca.

"Hiss~"

As he twisted around, Allen sharply inhaled through his teeth.

He got hit!

The Quen shield and its explosive shockwave hadn't entirely absorbed the impact.

Allen steadied himself, gritting his teeth against the pain in his latissimus dorsi, and quickly cast another Quen sign with his right hand.

"Bang! Bang!"

As the faint golden light flickered, two more head-sized stones magnified in front of Allen's eyes. The sudden injury did interfere with Allen's movements. The pain caused a momentary hesitation in his dodging posture. In the next instant, the newly applied shield was broken again.

"Ugh~"

A muffled groan escaped as severe pain surged from both his right shoulder and lower back.

These stones are not right!

Even though he blocked them, how could he still be injured?

No!

Even the previous one wasn't right.

He had calculated the damage. Given the size of that stone, how could it suddenly break the Quen Sign?

After renewing the shield, Allen suddenly looked up. Standing in the direction from where the three stones had been thrown was the largest rock troll in the cave.

It was the rock giant.

At some point, it had replaced the stones it was throwing with the "smaller" ones that had just struck.

"Whoosh!"

"Whoosh!"

"Whoosh!"

The piercing sound of the stones slicing through the air sent chills down Allen's spine, making his scalp tingle.

Damn it!

Is this big rock serious?

Is throwing stones really just a test and a warning, without the intent to kill?

This rock giant not only wants to kill him, but it also adjusted the type of projectiles based on the situation...

Allen dodged in alarm.

"Vesemir! What on earth did you do to the rock giant?"

"Bang! Bang!"

He managed to dodge two of the three stones.

Gritting his teeth, Allen tensed his muscles as he watched the stone shatter the Quen shield on his left side. The faint brownish-yellow light that leaked through wasn't affected by the shockwave at all. It was as if his shoulder armor had taken a heavy punch, suddenly denting in.

"Ah!"

The intense pain shot through him, causing Allen to cry out in pain.

What the hell?

Since when do rock trolls throw magically enhanced stones?

"What's wrong, Witcher? Are you okay?" A worried voice came from the figure in his arms.

Francesca knew she was a burden right now. To avoid hindering the Witcher's movements, she curled her body as tightly as she could, reducing her size to the most uncomfortable position. At the same time, she kept shifting the grip of her hands according to the direction of the Witcher's movements, trying her best not to touch his limbs.

Thus, she could only see darkness, completely unaware of the outside world, and could only focus on recovering her mental energy, trusting that the Witcher would protect her. However, the Witcher did indeed do as he promised, ensuring that Francesca wasn't hurt at all.

But that tremor, that pained cry just now...

The Witcher was injured!

Allen didn't respond to Francesca. After renewing the Quen shield, he quickly moved behind the fallen rock trolls, crouching down to catch his breath.

"Bang! Bang!"

Rocks continued to rain down, but with the strength of the Quen shield, as long as the stones weren't thrown by the rock giant, it could withstand at least five more such attacks. This was a makeshift refuge in the battlefield that Allen had come up with on a whim. A temporary refuge on the battlefield where he could only endure five more attacks.

"Are you alright, Witcher?" Francesca sensed that Allen had paused and looked up in concern.

If it wasn't for her momentary pride and desire to show off her magic, how could this...

She mentally chastised herself in worry and guilt. Allen formed an Aard Sign with his right hand, preventing the "shields" in front of him from standing up. Then, hearing her voice, he lowered his head and met her blue eyes.

Regret, guilt, sadness, self-deprecation...

The emotions in those beautiful eyes were so complex that they were hard to understand.

"It's nothing, just a few minor injuries. You need to keep recovering your mental energy..."

"Roar~"

The rock giant's angry roar interrupted their conversation.

"…Lazy little trolls... no meat... every lazy little troll gets a fist from the rock giant!"

The rock giant was so furious with the lazy rock trolls that its sentences had become much more coherent.

"Damn!" Allen thought.

Sure enough, As soon as the rock giant roared in anger, stones of various sizes began to rain down like a torrential downpour. Allen's veins bulged as he dodged around the narrow space shielded by the three fallen rock trolls, weaving left and right.

His right hand moved so fast it left afterimages as he kept casting Quen shields, which shattered almost as soon as they formed under the relentless barrage of stones. The faint golden magical shards floated in the darkness, never stopping. This scene was somewhat beautiful. Though neither the Witcher nor the elf would think so.

The elf clung tightly to Allen's armor, and the faint smell of iron through the black mask made her shudder. The Witcher's protection had kept her completely unharmed. So the one bleeding was...

Francesca trembled as she looked up, just as a drop of blood fell on her forehead.

One drop, two drops, three drops...

The warmth of the blood made her panic, and her hands gripping the Witcher's armor turned so tight that her knuckles turned white. At this moment, everything around seemed to fall silent. The tightly pressed lips, the straight nose...

And the blood that flowed from his forehead, streaking across his entire face. Suddenly, she recalled how, decades ago, during the Aelirenn Uprising, her father had held her like this, fleeing with her from Shaerrawedd.

Fleeing from that battlefield drenched in blood, where humans and Aen Seidhe killed each other without discrimination.

But why didn't her father, as an Aen Saevherne, want to lead their people in resistance?

If he had joined Aelirenn's army back then, with those experienced and powerful mages under his command, would things have been different?

Would they not have lost their home, their people, their... loved ones?

She wouldn't have needed to escape her father's control and come here for a vague clue. And she wouldn't have...

"Huh?"

The Witcher suddenly stopped, breaking Francesca out of her self-reproach.

"Daisy of the Valleys" looked at the Witcher's expression, which had changed from surprise to horror and despair, as if realizing something. She turned her head to look. Two spherical boulders, each as tall as the Witcher, were rapidly magnifying before them.

No!

Those weren't stones!

They were two living rock trolls!!!

They were even adjusting their clumsy postures mid-air, using the rocks on their backs to aim at them when they were only three meters away. Before she could feel anything, Francesca suddenly felt her thighs being lifted. Instinctively, she turned her head.

The Witcher was shouting something at her with his mouth wide open.

What is he saying?

Francesca wondered in a daze. As soon as this thought crossed her mind, the silent world suddenly vanished, and she heard it. The Witcher was calling her name.

"Francesca!"

"Have you recovered yet?"

"Hurry up and teleport!!!"

....…

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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170. How Much Does a Wolf Pack Leader Cost?
171. Old Memories.
172. Mistakenly Entering the Conjunction of the Spheres?
173. We've Arrived.
174. Hunting Mission.