The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes

Is my guess correct? What guess?

Demavend II, who had just snapped out of the daze caused by the disillusionment of his dreams, was stunned.

And then there's the sorcerer, Ban Ard...

Though the orders issued prohibited any entry or exit, how could such a simple ban stop the seasoned sorcereres? It merely increased the cost of intelligence exposure. What was so important to highlight?

But upon hearing that Kurt wasn't there to deliver news of the Griffin's attack, Demavend II secretly sighed in relief.

Maintaining his kingly dignity and image, he grasped the back of his high-backed chair and gracefully sat down. He took a sip from his wine glass and slowly asked, "What are you talking about? What guess of mine is correct?"

"The Griffin," Kurt said, "The Griffin might really have been captured by the Witchers..."

"What?" Demavend II's hand shook, and the pure silver goblet inlaid with red and blue gemstones fell.

"Clang~"

The goblet hit the ground, staining the valuable carpet a dark red.

The rich, sweet aroma of wine mixed with the fragrance of iris, swirling in the air.

Kurt thought for a moment and solemnly said, "Your Majesty, the Griffin has been captured, and the crisis in Aedirn has been averted."

Demavend II fell silent for a few seconds, staring at Kurt as if his soul had left his body.

"Are you sure?" he asked, bewildered.

"It should be correct..." Kurt, seeing Demavend II's reaction, gritted his teeth and solemnly continued, "Yesterday, nearly a hundred people saw the Griffin land in the white birch forest to the west of Vengerberg Castle, north of Lavido village. Afterward, two Witchers appeared in the village. Not long after they left, the Griffin flew up from the forest and left..."

"And the horses they were riding were the same black horses we saw yesterday under the Griffin's claws..."

"Wait!" Demavend II furrowed his brow and interrupted.

"Didn't the Witchers number nine?"

"Only two appeared yesterday, the others..."

"Only two Witchers appeared, and you didn't catch them!" Demavend II quickly grasped the key point.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Kurt took a deep breath and offered no excuses, as he knew Demavend II despised excuses.

"You promised yesterday, within two days," Demavend II raised two fingers with his right hand, "Within two days, if you didn't bring them here, you would voluntarily be sent to the prisoner camp to siege the city."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And now you're telling me the Witchers have captured the Griffin?" Demavend II stared coldly at him.

Kurt remained silent.

Demavend II also silently observed him for a while. After a long pause, he emotionlessly asked again, "Now, I'll ask you once more. Is it true that the Griffin has been captured?"

Kurt knelt on one knee, lowering his head: "It's true, Your Majesty."

"Although I wasn't able to bring those two Witchers here, everything I just said is true. And..."

Kurt instinctively looked towards the "window," but after his gaze was blocked by the national portrait, he remembered he was in the basement, the place where the king had to hide in disgrace from the monsters.

"And it's almost noon, and the Griffin hasn't attacked yet. For the past forty-three days, at this time every day, that monster would have already left..."

"Saer, go check outside again," Demavend II coldly interrupted, waving at the only servant in the basement.

The servant quickly left and returned soon after, nodding to Demavend II.

"Clang~"

Upon receiving the news, Demavend II didn't speak, but lowered his head slightly, his finger incessantly tapping the table. Occasionally, he would look up at Kurt with a blank expression.

The atmosphere in the basement grew tense, even the flicker of the candle flames seemed cautious.

"Clang!"

With the ruby-encrusted gold ring on his finger, Demavend II suddenly slammed his finger down on the table one final time.

"Bang!"

He slammed the table, gritting his teeth and hoarsely ordered, looking at the servant, Saer, with a hoarse voice: "Saer, send my command to the King's Hand, tell them to send all the supplies — food, weapons, and all other resources — currently stored in the warehouse, immediately to the front line."

"Yes, Your Majesty..." Saer bent to receive the order, but after hearing it, his voice faltered. He looked up in shock, "All the supplies? Now... now?"

"Do you not have ears?" Demavend II barked. "Now! Immediately! Get all the wagons in Vengerberg moving!"

"Y-Yes... Yes, Your Majesty!" Saer, his body trembling under the glare of the king's bloodshot eyes, hurriedly ran out, almost stumbling.

"Wait! Also notify the King's Hand and other ministers to come to the palace. The royal meeting is being moved up."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Demavend II waved his hand, and Saer quickly bowed and left, gently closing the door behind him.

"Bang~"

As the wooden door closed, Kurt could no longer remain silent. He quickly stood up and said, "Your Majesty, isn't it too hasty? Shouldn't we wait for another day? By tomorrow, if the Griffin hasn't arrived..."

"Wait?" Demavend II shot him a cold glance. "A week ago, Ban Glean almost staged a mutiny. Supplies are running low, deserters are increasing by the day, and every passing day, the likelihood of the front collapsing doubles."

"Perhaps while we're here in this damn cramped basement, discussing whether that monster will come back, Pontar Valley, Ban Glean, or even Vidor Stone Bridge could already be experiencing a rebellion."

"Your Majesty, but if the Griffin does come, the hastily sent supplies to the front line..."

Before Kurt could finish his words, Demavend II abruptly stood up from his seat, pointed at his nose, and yelled: "Then you'll stick to your promise and go to the front line!"

"Go with those damned, mud-covered nobles from Kaedwen, and use your fists and teeth to break open the city gates of Ard Carraigh!"

"Until those ignorant, cowardly, and greedy nobles, merchants, and those damned dwarven vampires in Vengerberg kick me off this throne, or simply kill me!"

The roar bounced off the walls of the basement, shaking the flames of the candles.

The king's eyes were redder than blood.

Kurt had seen such eyes from many people: merchants, generals, nobles, peasants... but they all belonged to one type — those who had lost everything and only had their hands and feet left to exchange for money, desperate gamblers.

They clung to the last straw, unaware whether it would pull them out of the mire or drown them deeper into the abyss.

But Kurt knew that at this moment, Demavend II was not someone he could persuade.

It was then that he realized that, whether or not he managed to capture the Witchers, whether the King's Hand, military ministers, or others protested, this war was going to continue.

So he fell silent, only praying in his heart that his assumptions were correct.

The Witcher had truly accomplished an unprecedented feat by taming a griffin.

Otherwise...

If this batch of hard-earned logistical supplies had been attacked by the griffin that was "taking a nap," then Aedirn would have been beyond saving.

"Whoosh—hiss—whoosh—hiss—"

King Demavend II was panting heavily, his face flushed.

After a long while...

With a loud thud, Demavend II sat back down in his high-backed chair, calming his emotions, before asking the same question for the third time: "Do you really think the Witcher has tamed the griffin?"

Kurt could only nod vigorously.

"Ha~"

Demavend II sighed and muttered:

"That's good, that's good..."

He then suddenly remembered the second thing Kurt had mentioned when he arrived: "By the way, you said a male sorcerer from Ban Ard, infiltrated. What did that mean?"

"It's also related to those Witchers," Kurt explained, recounting how, after the male and female innkeepers had visited, seven Witchers suddenly disappeared, and traces of a fierce magical battle leAedirng to Vengerberg Castle were found.

"The reason those seven Witchers disappeared is likely because of those two sorcerers who appeared."

Demavend II tightly pursed his razor-thin lips and absentmindedly rubbed the wine glass that his servant had replaced before leaving.

"Could the griffin have been tamed by those two sorcerers?"

"Master Aubrey detected spatial fluctuations of a portal on the battlefield, and our people found the location where the two sorcerers were staying," Kurt shook his head, "Yacoub's Garden Inn, the best inn in Vengerberg Castle."

"They have some nerve," Demavend II snorted coldly but didn't question why the city guards hadn't searched for them. "Then what happened?"

"They reserved the largest room, but soon after, they hastily left and never returned."

"Hastily left? Why?" Demavend II asked, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.

"We're not sure, but the innkeeper, Yacoub, said that they left shortly after the northern sky anomaly appeared. There was also the sound of bells ringing from them, possibly a magical artifact."

"The northern anomaly... the sorcerers... the bell sounds..." Demavend II murmured, his fingers pausing on the wine glass.

He stood up, picked up a candle, and walked to the opposite side, where a map was pinned to the wall.

The map was marked with several traces of charcoal, mostly near the border of Aedirn and Kaedwen, closer to Kaedwen's side.

The furthest arrow even came within a finger's length of Kaedwen's royal capital, Arde Carraigh, but had been erased and moved back considerably.

Demavend II didn't focus on those marks but closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his left index finger drew a line from the black dot marking Vengerberg Castle straight north, toward another famous city near the Blue Mountains—Ban Ard.

"I remember..." Demavend II turned to look at Kurt. "A few months ago, wasn't Ban Ard attacked by monsters?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. That day, a black sun rose above the male sorcerer's city."

Demavend II nodded, staring at the small writing next to Ban Ard for a long time, unconsciously clenching his fist, his eyes flashing with cold light.

"Kurt."

"Your Majesty, I am here."

"That northern anomaly was caused by Ban Ard being attacked by monsters again."

This was a statement, not a question.

Kurt was stunned for a moment. Seeing the excited look in Demavend II's bloodshot eyes, his expression grew serious as he nodded, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"At the royal conference, I need you to report this intelligence, then persuade the King's Hand to guide the military ministers to issue the order for a full-scale attack."

Kurt didn't hesitate this time. After a deep sigh in his heart, he immediately responded loudly, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"As for the Witchers..." Demavend II sat back down in the high-backed chair. "Can we identify them?"

"They all have disguises on their faces."

"Not only are they hiding from our people, but they're also in disguise. It seems they don't want their identities to be known," Demavend II shook his head. "The Wolf School has been squeezed out by Kaedwen's royal family and sorcerers, yet they still insist on neutrality..."

"Forcing Vengerberg Castle's heroes to risk their lives to tame a griffin, yet they won't even reveal their names, and refuse the bounty."

"Truly stubborn to the extreme!"

Demavend II picked up the wine glass and took a sip:

"However, we are not ungrateful. Since they don't want to reveal their identities, you should make sure your people keep their mouths shut."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Now, go. The ministers are almost here." Demavend II stood up and slowly walked toward the door.

Kurt followed a step behind him.

Thud~

The door to the nameless basement slammed shut.

The echo of the door closing reverberated through the dark corridor, becoming sharp and piercing.

Demavend II took a few steps down the hallway, suddenly speaking: "After the royal meeting, have your people secretly spread the word that the male sorcerer from Ban Ard attacked the Witchers of the Wolf School!"

Kurt hesitated for a moment and then asked, "Won't this make people guess that it was the Witchers of the Wolf School who handled the griffin?"

"Hmph~" Demavend II snorted coldly. "As long as we don't admit it, who can prove it?"

"Besides, if people guess, that's even better. After all, there are very few Witchers capable of taming a griffin..."

Demavend II continued, then suddenly stopped, looking down in thought for a few seconds before looking at Kurt with a thoughtful expression.

"After the royal meeting, you should prepare..."

"Prepare what?" Kurt felt a chill as Demavend II's gaze made his skin crawl.

"Prepare to head to the front lines," Demavend II smiled and patted his shoulder. "After all, didn't you promise? If you couldn't find the Witchers in two days, you'd volunteer to join the prisoner camp for the siege."

"?" Kurt's eyes widened in shock. If the Witchers had tamed the griffin, wasn't Vengerberg Castle's crisis resolved? Then why...

He saw the king's playful yet profound eyes.

[There are very few Witchers who have the ability to tame a griffin.]

Got it...

A high-ranking official, sent to the front lines as a tool to lure the Witcher—the one who captured the griffin...

But...

A highly skilled Witcher, paired with a griffin that could change the course of the war...

Kurt's expression grew serious. "Yes, Your Majesty. After the royal meeting, I will ensure the handover of my duties."

Demavend II patted his shoulder with satisfaction. "Don't worry. We won't send you to the prisoner camp..."

"No!" Kurt interrupted the king. "Please send me to the prisoner camp!"

Demavend II paused, his eyes widening as he stared at him.

Kurt smiled gently: "After all..."

"A griffin is far more important than an intelligence minister who doesn't gather any intelligence and is just a puppet!"

.....

📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

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361. The Continuation of the Path of Beast Roar.

362. The Legendary Hero of Ellander.

363. Flying to Ban Ard?

364. The Smoke of Ban Ard.

365. The Wild Hunt – A Sorcerer's Coveted Treasure: A Legacy from an Old Friend.