The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes

Ding!

[Monster group: "@#￥%&" LV?, "Summoning Ritual" LV92, "Rotting Lord" LV81, "Monster Nest" LV79, "Scurver" LV73, "Corpse Demon" LV67, "Alghoul" LV63 defeated!]

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The debilitation caused by Beast Roar: Berserk made the system notification sound particularly harsh in Allen's mind.

Even though he had long grown accustomed to the settlement messages, the flood of information this time brought back the dizzying sensation he had felt when he first acquired the Witcher Journal and completed his initial hunt.

His vision darkened, and his body swayed precariously on the back of the royal griffin, almost falling off again.

"Are you really okay?" Vesemir asked worriedly, steadying him and refusing to let go.

"Just a bit drained," Allen admitted, no longer trying to appear tough. "I'll be fine after some rest once we're back at the temple."

Vesemir supported Allen's left arm, ensuring his other hand gripped the griffin's mane tightly.

"Maybe we should head back first?"

"Ianna's side should be wrapping up as well."

Vesemir glanced at the ground below.

The shouting and clamor from the valley where the summoning ritual had taken place were growing fainter.

Necrophages were cowardly creatures, preying on the weak. With so many soldiers, priests, and sorcerers around, those beasts were likely fleeing in panic rather than daring to attack such a large group.

Otherwise, a few days ago, when Vesemir led Erni and the others on a ghoul hunt, it wouldn't have been so arduous.

"No need," Allen shook his head and gave Vesemir a pale smile. "I just need to rest here for a bit. Ianna and Tissaia are probably finishing up too..."

He had already driven away the dark god.

Leaving now would feel like working on a major project in his past life, overcoming the toughest challenge single-handedly, only to skip the final report and celebration.

Saving a bit of insignificant effort only to lose the goodwill of subordinates and stakeholders?

Not worth it.

Vesemir studied Allen's resolute gaze for a moment before nodding.

Allen let out a sigh of relief and sat down.

After instructing the royal griffin to hover nearby, he closed his eyes in a meditative posture and opened the Witcher Journal.

Instantly—

Whoosh!

A flood of system notifications overwhelmed him.

[Monster group: "@#￥%&" LV?, "Summoning Ritual" LV92, "Rotting Lord" LV81, "Monster Nest" LV79, "Scurver" LV73, "Corpse Demon" LV67, "Alghoul" LV63 defeated!]

[Reward Settlement: Overcoming the enemy, base rating D, higher-level kill bonus +3 → C, decapitation intimidation +3 → B, victory against greater odds +3 → A]

[Final Rating: A]

[Rewards Obtained: @#￥%&'s Element ×1, Summoning Ritual's Flesh Core ×1, Rotting Lord's Heart Essence ×1, Monster Nest's Core ×5, Scurver's Heart Essence ×7, Corpse Demon's Heart Essence ×1, Alghoul's Heart Essence ×15, Ghoul's Heart Essence ×221, Rotfiend's Heart Essence ×90, Experience Orbs ×12, @#￥%&'s Treasure Chest ×5, Summoning Ritual's Treasure Chest ×5, Rotting Lord's Treasure Chest ×5, Monster Nest's Treasure Chest ×5, Scurver's Treasure Chest ×5, Corpse Demon's Treasure Chest ×5, Alghoul's Treasure Chest ×5, Ghoul's Treasure Chest ×5, Rotfiend's Treasure Chest ×5]

"Still can't decipher the garbled text?" Allen immediately noticed the strange characters from the settlement. "Not even a level assigned..."

He scrolled further down.

"The summoning ritual is clear, and the Rotting Lord and Corpse Demon seem to be large monsters summoned by the conjunction of the sphere alignment involving Rotfiends and Alghouls..."

"The large monster summoned by the conjunction of the sphere alignment involving ghouls was killed by the summoning ritual's tentacle, so it's not counted in my hunt settlement. In that case..."

Allen's excitement grew.

"No doubt about it—the garbled text must be the so-called Great Seer, the Lord of Supreme Truth, that giant eyeball dark god."

He realized that their early intervention had prevented the summoning ritual from being completed. Given the numerous sacrifices of eyes midway, the dark god was likely an incomplete form, or perhaps merely a "divine thought" or "divine essence" if such concepts existed in the witcher's world.

Even so, it was remarkable.

At the very least, his "Godslayer" title now carried more weight than the heroes of legend who merely drove away dark gods.

"No wonder, in its final moments, that 'Lord of Supreme Truth' unleashed such intense psychic waves... But..."

"[Monster Hunter] can wield a near-rule-level power strong enough to kill various monsters, even destroying the avatar of a descending dark god."

"What exactly is the origin of the Witcher Journal?"

Allen furrowed his brow slightly.

Every time he thought he'd uncovered the journal's limits, it would prove him wrong with overwhelming facts.

What kind of power could slay an dark god?

More importantly, why had such a powerful artifact chosen him?

What was its purpose? Could it also be related to the White Frost?

Allen tapped his thigh with his forefinger, reflecting on everything that had happened since obtaining the journal and speculating.

In this world of witchers, all speculations about higher powers seemed to converge on the mysterious apocalyptic catastrophe known as the "White Frost."

"White Frost..."

He murmured the name in his mind.

Right now, his only lead on this concept was the Wild Hunt.

"Once I return, I'll have to remain confined in Ban Ard. If I can't find Elder Speech in the sorcerer's memories, I'll have to learn it from Ianna or Vera..."

Allen had a feeling.

In the Eternal Ones' Memory Crystals, there should be enough to let him glimpse the true nature of "White Frost."

"Let's continue..."

Allen's attention returned to the system notification of the Witcher Journal's hunt settlement.

The rating was only an A, which honestly surprised him.

He had expected that with the alignment of three conjunction of the spheres, at least one additional +3 rating for a "wolf-eating tiger" achievement would appear, which would have bumped it to an S rank and doubled the settlement rewards.

But it seemed that the Witcher Journal didn't recognize the large monsters summoned by the alignment of three conjunction of the spheres as qualifying for the "wolf-eating tiger" category.

"Though..." Allen thought to himself. "Including the first monster that was whipped to death by a tentacle on the cliff, I didn't even know what those three 'outsiders' looked like, so I didn't pose any threat to the summoning ritual or the dark god..."

Instead, it was the strong spatial fluctuations triggered by the last two celestial alignments that had helped him greatly.

The newly summoned dark god's mind and the physical body created by the summoning ritual were in disharmony, which allowed him to escape the dark god's mental shackles at a crucial moment, activating Balmur and filling up the Witcher Journal's progress.

"This battle to expel the dark god has a lot to reflect on, but that can wait..."

Allen's gaze drifted down to the loot, and then he saw the sparkling rewards filling almost his entire field of vision.

Struck it rich! Struck it rich!

Although large-scale skirmishes like this were dangerous, the rewards were equally impressive.

Leaving aside other things, just the essence of the Alghoul's heart was enough for Vesemir to use.

More than two hundred ghouls' hearts were more than enough to serve as rewards for the members of the Witcher Corps for a long time.

Except for the somewhat low number of experience orbs, this was a great harvest. Even the experience orbs were substantial, with three hunting tasks completed, directly awarding 190 experience orbs.

Altogether, this battle earned him 202 experience orbs.

Allen took a deep, satisfied breath, feeling that the aftereffects of Beast Roar: Berserk were somewhat alleviated by the experience orbs. Then he scanned the loot again briefly, focusing back on one item—@#￥%&'s Element.

His mind moved, shifting to the item inventory, and quickly locating a mist-like object.

It was a ball of purple, dreamy and gorgeous, resembling the mist of star clusters in the cosmos.

At first glance,

Allen almost forgot to breathe. Every cell in his body erupted with a strong desire, like a lock finding its key or a traveler in the desert spotting an oasis.

Gulch~

He instinctively swallowed.

What was this...? he asked himself.

[Name: @#￥%&'s Element]

[Type: ?]

[Function: ?]

[Note: Knowing too much before one's strength reaches its peak is not always a good thing.]

Looking at the identified panel, Allen remained silent for a moment.

He was already close to the end of a Witcher's strength, no, with all the skills enhancing him, he even felt his power surpassed other Witcher masters and had already exceeded the likes of Grandmaster Sol.

Given the Wolf School's standing among all the Witcher schools on the Northern Continent, he should be the strongest Witcher in the entire Witcher world right now.

"Is this strength still not enough?"

Allen was itching to use the element with the garbled characters right now.

But remembering that he was still on the back of the royal griffin, he worried the action would cause too much of a disturbance and restrained his instinctual desire.

He gazed with obsession at the purple, star-cluster-like mist in the inventory for a few moments before taking a deep breath.

"Soon, I'll use it once we're back at the temple."

He then opened his eyes, gripping the griffin's mane and standing up.

"Good girl, let's head down." Allen patted the griffin's neck.

"Caw~"

The griffin responded and flapped its wings, descending toward the valley, illuminated by Light and firelight.

"Aren't you going to rest a bit longer?" Vesemir asked.

"I'm fine," Allen shook his head. "The shouting has stopped, so Ianna's group should be finishing up."

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

Valley.

"I can't believe I'm still alive..."

Lawson Roche wiped the blood and foul stench off his face, staring blankly at the silver blade in his hand, its once-sharp golden glow now completely faded, looking unremarkable.

"Those damn ghouls, the ones that died died, the ones that ran ran. Of course, you survived."

Sara squinted at the last ghoul disappearing into the forest. After sheathed his sword, he leaned against the cliff beside Lawson Roche.

Lawson followed his gaze and saw the pitch-black, deep forest, shivering involuntarily.

Just moments ago, the ghoul with dripping yellow foul saliva was only a fist away from his face, then suddenly stopped, giving him a second chance at life.

"Lord Sara, after those monsters fought among themselves and crazily attacked the line, why did they suddenly run away?"

"Don't you know?"

Sara panted, lifting his head, his mind still somewhat heavy from the relief after the battle. He looked at Lawson Roche, who was covered in disgusting blood, and only after a few glances managed to recognize him through his face that was smeared with an unidentifiable mixture of blood and dust.

"Right, you shouldn't know." He tossed aside the dark red, long strip of flesh from his shoulder in disgust and continued, "This cowardly look is what those damn monsters should have."

"After encountering so many of us and being beaten so badly, these monsters should have fled long ago."

As if recalling some bad memories, Sara spat on the ground and furrowed his brows. "I chased them for a month with my brothers, and we didn't even kill that many ghouls."

"So why was that?" Lawson Roche asked.

Seeing his interest, Sara was glad to explain, especially since there was no task at hand.

Throwers and the Monster Hunting Regiment, as well as the Royal Guards, didn't know much about this mission. It was just a matter of preventing the dark god's descent, or else Ellander would be destroyed. That was the simple explanation.

The real core of recruiting people wasn't about how persuasive the temple priests were in explaining the situation.

It was supported by the credibility of Duke Mason and the Melitele Temple.

Sara thought for a moment, then began to explain in detail everything from the Witchers' efforts to eliminate the ghouls to the discovery of the monster nest and the summoning ritual process.

Of course, he also mentioned that the reason the ghouls were so crazy was because the monster nests and the summoning ritual controlled the ghouls.

"So those monsters that suddenly fled earlier were because of that?"

"Exactly," Sara raised his chin proudly and said, "Someone like you destroyed the monster nests. To be precise, Sir Allen destroyed all the monster nests."

"Really?" Lawson Roche instinctively doubted.

He clearly saw another more mature Witcher, with dark golden, authoritative beast-like eyes, riding on the flying monster.

"Of course, it's true!" Sara reacted as if challenged, jumping up abruptly.

He seemed to have guessed Lawson's thoughts and quickly explained, "I'm very familiar with Sir Allen and Master Vesemir, why would I lie to you?"

"Do you know about the demonic tide on the Night of the Fifth Festival..."

Sara listed Allen's deeds, and Lawson Roche was left stunned.

Allen...

Was I saved again by that shy boy during the Fifth Festival?

Honestly, even after shouting "Godslayer" several times, Lawson still struggled to connect the cold, ruthless "Godslayer" Witcher with the boy in his mind.

"Lawson Roche? Is that your name?" a voice suddenly asked from beside him.

"Huh?" Lawson Roche was momentarily confused and nodded. "Yes, my name is Lawson Roche."

"You're not a professional soldier," Sara recalled the middle-aged man's brave performance in the battle and invited with generosity, "The war is over, what are your plans? How about joining our Monster Hunting Regiment?"

Lawson Roche was stunned again.

Of course, he knew about the Monster Hunting Regiment, and he also knew that ever since the Fifth Festival, this army under Duke Mason had changed.

The recruitment standards were very strict, mostly picking veterans instead of civilians, but the treatment was exceptional.

If it were before he had a family, he would have joined without hesitation.

But now...

Thinking of his wife and two children at home, Lawson shook his head, intending to decline.

Just then,

There was a commotion in the valley.

Ugly, terrifying monsters flapped their wings and descended from the sky.

As the first light of dawn broke, brilliant golden light dispersed the clouds and mist in the valley, illuminating the monster and the young face, which, though somewhat disheveled, still stood proud.

At this moment, the Witcher was no longer the shy, youthful figure from his memories, but rather...

Like a hero...

The kind of hero from the bedtime stories he used to tell his children.

But...

Children are still children. Is it really necessary for a child to save his hometown and family every time?

Even if it's a Witcher.

Must he always be kept in the dark, not knowing why he's about to die until the last moment?

No!

He would rather crush the monsters that disrupt his peaceful life, just like today!

The crowd cheered.

Lawson Roche didn't join in the cheers. Instead, he followed the stirring in his heart, uncontrollably turning his head to look at the man beside him, as messy as he was, and asked,

"Lord Sara, I want to join the Monster Hunting Regiment!"

.....

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