The Witcher: Wolf School’s Hunting Notes

177. Another Francesca in the World.



"…Little girl, has your brother's wound healed?"

"Ah! By the goddess Melitele, the young man has recovered so quickly. It must be the goddess's blessing, it must be the goddess's blessing…"

"May the thunder of Kreve strike down those who hurt you…"

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

If it weren't for the fact that they had passed through the barrier of light just five minutes ago, who would have thought that this was all just an illusion?

Francesca had a complex expression on her face.

The witcher Allen walked straight ahead, without looking around, along the main road of the Orchard. But she couldn't help herself from responding to the warm and kind greetings from the people around her.

Even though the witcher had already told her that all of these people were mere illusions.

As they left the Orchard along the road leading to the village, the path under their feet began to slope upwards.

"Allen, how do you know where the target is?"

This question had been on Francesca's mind for a long time. After entering the illusion, the witcher's purpose had been very clear. Ignoring the villagers' greetings and without checking any signs, he just walked straight ahead. It was as if he already knew exactly where the target they were looking for was located.

All that was left was to walk there.

But how was that possible?

Francesca couldn't make sense of it.

Being able to quickly see through the illusion could be explained by knowledge and skill. But waking up after being unconscious for three days, without gathering clues or asking the villagers…

Could someone really be born with such an innate talent for finding people?

"I don't know where the target is!" Allen glanced at the elf seriously. "But I know that where we are going, there will definitely be clues about the target."

"How did you find this clue?"

Under Francesca's puzzled gaze, Allen instinctively looked ahead. Through the magical vision of the wolf medallion, a dotted line of black magic points floated in the air in front of him.

"I live in the White Orchard, the one in reality, and I'm also relying on the witcher's…"

"Witcher's tricks?" Francesca interjected.

"Yes, witcher's little tricks," Allen chuckled dryly.

Francesca sighed and wisely chose not to pursue the question of "how many little tricks witchers have," instead continuing to walk with a distant look as she asked:

"The Orchard… the real Orchard, are these villagers there as well?"

"Some are, some aren't. I've never seen Granny Asha, but I know the owner of the herbal shop and have even bought medicine from him…"

Allen glanced at Francesca, who looked full of yearning, and after pausing for a moment, reminded her: "You know the current situation between Kaedwen and humans, so…" Allen carefully chose his words, "If you were to go there in reality, the people might not be as friendly as you imagine."

To say they "might not be friendly" was actually an extremely mild understatement. Every man over the age of thirty in the White Orchard had at least participated in one war against the elves. Every family had lost husbands, sons, fathers… to the elves in some way.

Not friendly?

That would be an understatement—the hatred ran deep.

Moreover, the king's personal guards were still searching everywhere for elves like Francesca. Going to the Orchard to experience human life would be walking right into a trap.

Francesca understood the implication in Allen's words, and her eyes darkened instantly.

"Why do humans turn their swords against their teachers?"

"We once selflessly taught them the art of magic, showed them how to identify herbs, how to navigate by the stars, taught them how to survive and thrive under the claws and fangs of monsters…"

"But in the end, what did we get in return for our help? Swords and axes…"

"They used the brains they developed through learning magic to figure out how to take our lands, and the martial skills they honed fighting monsters to kill our people…"

As she voiced her grievances, the witcher remained silent.

Whether or not the teaching was truly selfless was, in Allen's view, something worth investigating further. But during the "First Landing," when the Conjunction of the Spheres brought humans to this world, they did indeed receive much help from the elves. For example, magic.

The first generation of human mages had all studied the art of magic under the elves.

Additionally, there had been extensive intermarriage between humans and elves. After centuries, much of the bloodline of the Northern Realms could be traced back to some elf ancestor.

Especially the nobility.

For a long time, the noble class even took pride in their elven blood. For many years, elven blood had brought humans elven allies and a great deal of aid. So, persecuting the elves, who could be considered distant relatives, was not exactly noble of the humans. However, the Aen Seidhe, the elves, were far from the saintly figures Francesca portrayed them as.

After all, their kin, the "People of the Alder," the Aen Elle, were waging wars and raiding other realms as the Wild Hunt.

It was hard to imagine that the Aen Seidhe, who shared the same bloodline, were merely nature-loving fairies from traditional tales.

A warrior spirit was just as much a part of their heritage.

The history of the witcher's world offered evidence to support this.

And the proof was not merely in the existence of evidence, but in the fact that the very beings that served as evidence had disappeared entirely from the witcher's world. Those beings were the gnomes. Before the elves arrived, the gnomes had been the indigenous people of this world.

And now, where were those gnomes?

To find them, you'd have to look in history books or venture into some remote, untouched forests. So, as long as one race was in decline and another was on the rise, war was inevitable. As long as humanity continued to expand its population, wars with other races would be unavoidable. However, Allen didn't bother to refute Francesca. After all, she was a potential ally, and he knew the truth in his own heart—there was no need to say it aloud.

Besides, he wasn't even from this world.

No matter how many wrongs the humans here committed, what did that have to do with him, a person from Earth?

So, Allen remained silent throughout.

Francesca didn't expect the fourteen-year-old witcher to have answers, anyway.

But these past three days, the friendliness of the short-lived humans had moved her in ways she had never experienced among her own people. She couldn't help but feel sentimental. Although… this human kindness was all just an illusion.

Following the black magic points, they walked for another ten minutes before they both unconsciously slowed their steps.

A heavily guarded castle appeared in front of them.

"Was this what the ruins looked like before?" Allen examined the castle.

The gates were intact on the walls, ivy sprouted green shoots in the corners, and birds perched on the vines, observing the newcomers.

This was the castle of Viscount Hudson. Though, of course, it was merely an illusion.

"The black magic points started at the ruins of the real castle, and now they return to the castle…"

A strange sense of fate welled up inside the witcher.

"Have we arrived?" Francesca asked, eyeing the heavily armed guards at the gate.

"Are these people illusions as well?"

"They should be." Allen nodded, and then, without hesitation, began walking toward the castle.

Francesca hesitated for a moment before catching up, walking in step with Allen as she curiously asked: "If it's all an illusion, why not just walk through the walls?"

Allen shook his head and pointed to the gate in front of them: "This is the entrance. To find the target, we can only go through here."

They were still several meters away from the gate, and the Mirage Pearl's ability to see through illusions didn't extend that far. However, Allen had already noticed a pattern.

The black elemental points could pass through walls, but as long as there was a path, they wouldn't go through walls. Moreover, they were unaffected by illusions, never changing their direction. Now, the elemental points were heading through the gate into the castle, clearly indicating that the shortest route was this one.

"Who goes there?" 

A loud voice came from the castle's guard.

"Clang!"

Swords were drawn from their scabbards, gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Allen was unfazed, continuing forward. But he could hear a rapid heartbeat—Francesca's heartbeat. The sight of six hostile knights drawing their swords was still too intense for a mage like her. But it was about to get even more overwhelming.

In Francesca's terrified gaze, the knights drew their swords, formed a battle line, and charged at them.

The next moment.

"Slash—"

Francesca's eyes widened in terror.

The leading knight swung his sword and decapitated the Witch... Witcher...

A single blow took off his head!

Blood gushed from the wound, spraying directly onto Francesca's face. The thick, metallic scent of blood filled the air. "Francesca" stood frozen in shock.

"A-Allen is dead…"

"He... didn't he say they were all illusions?"

Before she could process it, her right hand was suddenly grabbed. Looking down, she saw the headless corpse holding her hand. The head, still lying on the ground, blood spraying from the neck, moved its lips as if to say:

"Close... your eyes..."

"Whoosh!"

Before she could regain her composure, another blade sliced through the air, aimed directly at her neck. Faced with imminent death, Francesca's mind went blank.

"Close your eyes!" 

A shout suddenly echoed in her ears. Francesca snapped out of it.

"That's right, it's all an illusion!"

So, She obediently closed her eyes.

The next moment.

"Slash—"

A strange sound.

Francesca only felt a slight sting on her neck. It was very light, like being pricked by a needle. Before she could think about it further.

"Alright, you can open your eyes now!"

Allen's voice called out.

Francesca opened her eyes. A beautifully carved fountain suddenly appeared before her. The Witcher stood next to the fountain, smiling at her. Francesca, still in a daze, touched her slightly sore neck, then turned to look behind her.

Under the dark gate, the guards stood with their backs to her, as if they had never moved.

"It really was just an illusion!"

Francesca instinctively touched her long neck again.

Allen: ?

What does she mean by "It really was just an illusion..."

"You didn't believe it before?" Allen couldn't help but ask.

"Huh?" Francesca averted her eyes. "Of course, I believed..."

Allen was skeptical. But not believing yet still following him into danger seemed even stranger.

"So... now that we're inside, where should we look for our target?"

Francesca quickly changed the subject. Allen glanced at her but didn't press the issue.

"Follow me."

He nodded, mentally connecting to the Wolf Medallion, following the black elemental points deeper into the castle.

Along the way, many servants and guards passed by, but none of them paid any attention to Allen or Francesca. Several times, Francesca even unintentionally passed through some of the illusions.

"Allen…"

"Don't worry, the master of this illusion knows we're here."

Allen continued walking calmly. He believed the illusion's caster had probably noticed them three days ago.

After all, The bandages Allen had been wrapped in three days ago were real. His recovery also showed that he had received proper treatment.

Even though the bowl Allen had used to drink medicine had been taken away by the so-called "Granny Asha," none of this was something illusions could create. Thus, it was easy to deduce that the master of the illusion had already discovered them and bore no ill intentions.

"What?" 

Francesca asked, surprised.

Allen nodded and shared his reasoning.

Francesca fell silent. She remained quiet until Allen led them into the castle, stopping in front of a room on the second floor.

"This should be it."

Allen said softly.

The long black elemental points floated down the hallway, eventually passing through the wooden door and into the ordinary room beyond. From the perspective of the Mirage Pearl, this room might be the only real part of the entire Orchard illusion. The wooden door, the wall lamps, the paintings...

Everything here was tangible and real.

They had reached their destination!

"Hiss~" 

Allen took a deep breath, stepped forward, and knocked on the door.

"Knock, knock, knock."

The beautifully patterned wooden door echoed under his knock.

Allen and Francesca waited a few seconds.

"Creak—"

The door slowly opened.

Soft light poured out from the room.

"Granny Asha?"

Francesca said in surprise.

Yes.

The old lady who claimed to have trained in medicine at the Temple of the Goddess Melitele was standing at the door, kindly looking at them.

"What's wrong, Francesca?"

"Why are you looking for Granny?"

Francesca was momentarily speechless, glancing at the Witcher.

Allen immediately understood. She was asking, "Didn't you say Granny Asha was also an illusion?"

"Ahem."

A cough from inside the room interrupted their silent exchange.

"Asha, who is it?"

An elderly voice called from within.

"It's a pair of siblings I recently met who have fallen on hard times..." 

Granny Asha gave them an apologetic smile, gesturing for them to come in and sit wherever they liked. Francesca, out of habit, obeyed the kind tone of Granny Asha and entered the room. Allen, however, froze when he instinctively switched to the Mirage Pearl's vision.

Blue eyes, golden hair, long ears...

Beneath Granny Asha's elderly features was the face of a breathtakingly beautiful elf. As he took in Granny Asha's true appearance, Allen instinctively glanced at Francesca, who was walking into the room, thinking: "How does Granny Asha look so much like Francesca?"

....…

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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178. Unspeakable Family Affairs.
179. The New Item.
180. As You Wish.
181. The Unbreakable Shield.
182. Vera is Here.


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