The Witcher: Wolf School’s Hunting Notes

Allen's prophetic dream was real!

That was the first thought that came to Vesemir's mind after hearing the mad words of the sorcerer Tomas Moreau.

Unexpectedly, though, when he heard "Ban Ard is at odds with Kaer Morhen" and "The School of the Wolf is doomed," Vesemir did not feel much fear or unease. He thought for a moment.

Right.

What's there to fear about a single Ban Ard?

The enemies they had once imagined facing included not only sorcerers but also the King of Kaedwen!

And thousands of knights and soldiers...

But now.

The royal family of Ard Carraigh would no longer join forces with the sorcerers. All thanks to Allen. Vesemir glanced at his most pride-worthy apprentice. Then, he looked at the sorcerer lying on the ground, unaware and still laughing maniacally, as if he were watching a clown. He believed that Allen would find a way for the school to survive.

His job now was to pass on all his skills without reservation and protect him with all his might.

"So why are you in such a hurry to die?"

Allen coldly stared at the trembling sorcerer on the ground, who looked like a wriggling worm.

"Why not wait for the snow to cover the Blue Mountains and follow Ban Ard's army to exact your revenge for your selfishness and obsession?"

"Can't you wait?"

At Allen's words, Tomas Moreau suddenly looked as if someone had grabbed him by the throat, his insane laughter stopping abruptly. He glared venomously at the young Witcher, hatred filling his eyes. His child had once glared at him with those same loathsome cat-like eyes.

Defying him, resisting him, opposing him…

Everything he did had been for their good!

Why couldn't they understand? Why wouldn't they listen? Why wouldn't they cooperate?

A surge of unbridled rage filled his mind, and a stream of curses spilled from his lips.

"What do you know? You damned monst—"

"Smack!"

Allen stepped forward, and with the tip of his right foot, swiftly pressed on Tomas Moreau's artery. The bespectacled sorcerer's eyes rolled back, and he fainted once again.

The oak grove fell silent.

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

Vesemir didn't mind Allen's sudden move.

Tomas Moreau was clearly not as cooperative as Makarov, and the rest of what he had to say would likely be nothing but useless curses. He glanced at Tomas Moreau in surprise. He noticed that the man's breathing was steady, and there were no visible marks on his neck.

"Where did you learn that technique?" Vesemir curiously asked Allen.

Even he couldn't achieve such an effect with just a foot.

"I figured it out myself," Allen replied nonchalantly.

In reality, it came from the School of the Cat, Two-Handed Sword LV5. The Cat School, whose primary operations often involved humans, had knowledge of the human body structure that rivaled experienced surgeons from Allen's previous life.

Although their expertise was focused on killing, kidnapping, and torture. No wonder Witchers are born warriors… Vesemir clicked his tongue, marveling.

"Your precision in controlling strength has already surpassed mine. The five-year trial of pathfinding might only take you two years…"

"No, perhaps even one year would be enough…"

Allen shook his head. "I still have much to learn, Master Vesemir."

"I hope you can teach me more!"

This wasn't just a polite remark.

There were many small techniques, like meditation, which weren't acknowledged as skills in the Witcher's handbook and had to be learned from Vesemir. There was also knowledge about monsters, like the weaknesses of commonly encountered but lesser-known creatures.

Although Allen had knowledge from his previous life's bestiary in the game, there were still significant differences between the game and reality.

At least one thing was clear.

In real-life combat, it wasn't a game of exchanging blows.

Being struck by a monster often resulted in lost limbs…

Missing chunks of flesh here and there were common occurrences. That's why the knowledge passed on by the experienced master Witcher Vesemir was especially important.

Typically, after a Witcher graduated from their pathfinding trials, for long periods spanning up to ten years, they would only accept contracts involving monsters they had learned about or hunted during their pathfinding journey with their mentors.

Lastly.

For young Witchers, another crucial point of having a pathfinding mentor was the connections. Like Radek.

It was because he had heard of Vesemir's reputation and because his family had worked with the master Witcher that he voluntarily increased the reward for the contract.

And after this contract, once he learned of Allen's abilities, would he recommend Allen to his family and relatives?

Most likely.

The most lucrative contracts were always those specifically requesting certain Witchers. Otherwise, Allen would have to continue as before, going from village to village to check the notice boards and accept contracts. And haggling over a couple of copper coins for the reward with the client.

"Of course. As long as you're willing to learn, I will teach you everything I know without reservation," Vesemir said seriously, taking off his wide-brimmed black hat and looking at Allen earnestly.

This is my promise!

Allen was taken aback.

He hadn't expected Vesemir to suddenly be so serious at this moment. His heart warmed, and Allen smiled, nodding vigorously.

"Then prepare to be completely drained, Master Vesemir!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" Vesemir laughed.

Lying beside Tomas Moreau, Makarov, witnessing the heartfelt exchange between the master and apprentice, felt his scalp tingle.

Ban Ard was about to destroy Kaer Morhen, and yet these two could still laugh about it?

Even if they didn't believe the madman's words, they shouldn't be so relaxed!

Did they really think a few dozen Witchers could stand against the sorcerers' world-shattering magic?

But Makarov only dared to think this to himself. He didn't dare to interrupt, fearing that the "Blue Death" might give him a taste of the same treatment. It wasn't until the two Witchers turned their attention to him that he hurriedly defended himself: "Tomas Moreau wasn't telling the truth. The academy's plan may have originally included… uh… such a strategy…"

"However, those who bear a grudge against Witchers, like Tomas Moreau, are only a small portion. Most are like me… friendly to Witchers…"

Makarov glanced ingratiatingly at the two Witchers. Seeing that they seemed deep in thought, he sighed in relief and continued: "After the Conjunction of the Spheres, resolving the problems caused by the king's death will be the academy's primary focus."

"Extreme individuals like Tomas Moreau are not the mainstream. Headmaster Hen Gedymdeith has always been solitary, without family or children, and he bears no ill will towards Witchers. So this year, there will definitely be no conflict with your school…"

Not this year, but next year?

Allen and Vesemir exchanged a glance, understanding each other. But this had been expected. Allen had never thought they'd survive the crisis without fighting.

Wolves, Cats, Griffins, Bears...

The extinction of Witchers was a worldwide phenomenon, and it was unlikely to be resolved easily. All he needed was a buffer period for Kaer Morhen to develop.

Heart extract, potions, blade oils, skills, rituals...

Only a small part of the potential of the Witcher's handbook had been tapped so far.

Time was on their side.

Of course, they didn't completely believe Makarov's words—it was just a reference point. But for now, none of that mattered. The most pressing issue was how to deal with these two warlocks. Vesemir pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a bit of a headache as he turned to Allen.

"What do you think? How should we deal with these two warlocks?"

Hearing this, Allen looked at the two warlocks lying on the ground, also feeling a bit of a headache. He pondered for two seconds under Makarov's pleading gaze. Then, just as he opened his mouth to speak—

Suddenly.

Allen sensed something, and with a swift kick from his right foot, he sent Makarov into dreamland. Before Vesemir could ask, Allen raised his right hand. A crystal bird suddenly flew down from the sky, landing on his right index finger.

At that moment.

Radek and Bogdan finished setting up the camp.

"Master Vesemir, Allen, the fire and tents are ready. Should we prepare dinner?"

Radek shouted.

"On it!" Vesemir shouted back, glancing at the two warlocks on the ground.

"No need to rush in deciding how to deal with them. We have the whole night to think about it."

"Mary's love letter is more important."

As he said this, he patted Allen on the shoulder with an ambiguous smile.

"It's not a love letter!" Allen protested.

Mary was only fifteen, still not an adult!

Did this mischievous old man even know what he was saying?

"Alright, alright!" Vesemir laughed heartily. "If you say it's not, then it's not."

Before Allen could argue further, Vesemir messed up his hair with a rough hand and then turned to walk toward the campfire.

"You stay here. I'll go help Radek and Bogdan with dinner..."

Watching the old Witcher master leave, Allen shook his head helplessly and turned his gaze back. Since the two warlocks weren't here for them, there was indeed no need to rush a decision. So, Allen raised the message bird in his right hand, letting its crystalline beak rest against his forehead.

The next moment.

Mary's sweet and playful voice echoed in his mind.

"My dear leader of the Wolfpack..."

"The half-elves that Lady Vera brought back have all been settled."

"At first, they were shy and timid, but within a few days, they were running all over Kaer Morhen."

"Chattering away, like a flock of little ducks..."

"Since the snow melted on Blue Mountain and you all left, Kaer Morhen hasn't been this lively in a long time."

"Sadly..."

"This liveliness won't last long..."

"Yesterday, Hughes, Bond, and Fred, who had been playing with them, went down the mountain with several Witcher masters."

"Lady Vera said that in a few days, once she and the chief agree on how to integrate the drowner heart essence into the 'Trial of Choice,' your bearded deputy commander, Aristo, will begin training them."

"Hmph~"

"Speaking of which!"

"That grumpy Aristo won't even let me into the 'Trial of Choice' training grounds!"

"You know I'm the chief sorceress of the Wolfpack, and he's just a regular deputy commander!"

"When you return, you must teach him a good lesson for me!"

"Well... not too harsh a lesson, since Aristo is usually quite responsible."

"Your recruits have been learning swordsmanship and signs quickly under his strict training."

"Of course, don't be too lenient either, or where will the face of Mary, chief sorceress of the Wolfpack, go?"

Hearing this, a smile tugged at the corners of Allen's mouth. He could picture Mary with her horns on her forehead, puffing her cheeks in frustration.

Not too harsh, not too lenient—how was he supposed to teach him a lesson like that?

Allen found it amusing.

Shaking his head, he continued listening.

"At the very least, make him call me Lady Mary, instead of just Mary, Mary—how embarrassing is that in front of the recruits~"

"Hahaha~"

Mary's real motive was revealed, and Allen couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"And besides, I've done way more than him!"

"Under my guidance, all your recruits have learned how to make necrophage oil, killer whale, and cat's eye potions. Claral has even started practicing the ice spear spell!"

"Even Aristo hasn't learned that yet!"

"Impressive, right, Allen?"

It was indeed impressive. The young Witcher thought. All those things would normally take six months to learn. It had only been two months. As expected of a future rector of Aretuza—her talent for teaching was exceptional.

Thinking for a moment, Allen opened his Witcher's Journal with his mind and pulled up the list of corps members. Sure enough, Every member had learned necrophage oil, killer whale, and cat's eye potions.

What was even more surprising. Not only had Claral mastered the ice spear spell, but so had Erni and another member named Peter. Inviting Mary to be the Corps's sorceress was definitely the right decision.

He needed to find a way to keep her close, not let her defect to Aretuza... Allen thought, continuing to listen.

"Aristo has hinted several times that he wants me to teach him, but I pretend not to understand."

"Unless he calls me Lady Mary!"

"Otherwise, no way I'll teach him..."

After a few more quiet jabs at Aristo, Mary moved on to talk about the lives of the half-elves. She mentioned how mischievous a half-elf named Adolphus was. And how shy and introverted a half-elf named Cirion was. The youngest, a half-elf child named Maya, cried every day, wanting her mother...

Whether it was Adolphus, Cirion, or Maya, all of these half-elf names were new to Allen.

He wasn't particularly interested in their lives. But as he listened. He felt a strange sense, like a husband working far away, listening to his wife chat about daily life over the phone.

"Even though I can't enter the 'Trial of Choice' training grounds, I can still go into the apprentice dorms to prepare the drowner heart essence and other trial potions."

"So don't worry, I'll take good care of them."

"Lastly, you must be careful out there!"

"Lady Vera told me about your adventures several times, and each time she almost had me in tears..."

Hearing this, Allen chuckled. With Mary's personality, she probably wasn't just 'almost' in tears—she must have cried! A warmth filled his heart. Being cared for like this, it felt like soaking in water at a perfect 38°C—his whole body felt warm and relaxed.

Involuntarily, he looked northward.

The brilliant sunset spread across the sky like silk, gold and crimson intertwined, stretching from west to east. Gazing at the breathtaking view, Allen let out a soft sigh.

To be honest.

At that moment.

He missed Kaer Morhen a little.

....…

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: [email protected]/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
216. Mutant Formula.
217. Ms. Vera, Can I Go With You?
218. Mary Came to Learn.
219. The Wild Hunt.
220. Time to Take Off Your Leather Armor!