The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes

"two cycles of soul rebirth…"

Ianna held Allen's hand, the divine power of her spell flowing through his veins.

"If it's something related to elves, particularly a prophecy or proclamation tied to a specific date, then it must be interpreted through the Elven Calendar."

She released his hand, and the warmth within her body abruptly stopped.

"You're recovering well," Ianna said. "In a week's rest, you'll fully heal."

"A full seven days? No earlier?"

"Of course, earlier is possible." She smiled faintly.

Allen's eyes lit up with hope, and he straightened up eagerly.

"As long as you're not afraid of Lysa storming in for another argument." Ianna teased him with a mischievous look.

Allen's face darkened, and he lay back down again.

Clearly, someone had already spread the word about what had happened earlier.

"Ha! Just rest for the full seven days," Ianna ruffled his hair playfully. "Don't abuse your youth by pushing your body too far. Illness and injury don't disappear because you're young—they're just hidden."

"But I'm a Witcher."

"Even a Witcher…" Ianna paused, casting a glance at Vesemir. "No, especially a Witcher."

"Enough, Allen. Stop resisting and rest," Vesemir chuckled. "They're just necrophages. For all we know, by the time you're done resting, we'll have already taken care of those pesky creatures."

You think that's what I'm worried about… Allen sighed inwardly.

"Alright then. Mason sent someone earlier today, urging me to make sure you focus on recovering and not to worry about anything else. Let's talk about the question you asked earlier instead."

Ianna took a white cloth handed to her by Nenneke and wiped away the sweat:

"It's widely known that the world functions like life itself, endlessly cycling and repeating."

"In this cycle, there are eight magical points that create a complete loop, forming a full year."

"These points pair off, representing…"

"The 'blossoming' of Imbolc and the 'harvest' of Lammas;"

"The 'blooming' of Belleteyn and the 'withering' of Samhain."

"There are also two solstices—Midwinter and Midsummer—known as Midinváerne and Midaëte;"

"And two equinoxes—Spring and Autumn—referred to as Aen Birke and Velen."

"This forms the basis of the Elven Calendar."

"Those fair-featured folk are naturally attuned to the fluctuations of nature and magic, so they produce far more mages, astrologers, and seers than humans."

"Thus, 'two cycles of soul rebirth' likely refers to the cycle of magic occurring twice, meaning two years."

Two years…

Allen exchanged a glance with Vesemir, lips pressed together.

Two years seemed short, but much could happen in that time.

The School of the Wolf might not reach its ideal strength—reality wasn't a strategy game where you could build an army just by spending coin.

Training in swordsmanship, honing physical strength, imparting knowledge, and fortifying willpower—all required immense time and effort.

And the supply of apprentices was still severely limited.

Even so, the School's Witcher numbers would see a significant surge.

These would be the apprentices who had survived the deadly Trial of the Grasses in previous years but hadn't yet reached full readiness.

Two years, paired with the Witcher's Journal, was tight but sufficient to forge some combat-ready Witchers. After all, the Wild Hunt's first target would be Ban Ard.

"Acceptable," Allen thought.

But Ianna wasn't finished speaking.

"Or perhaps…"

She gazed at a dangling amulet from the ceiling, pausing briefly as if contemplating:

"Taking the Elven Calendar as our basis, the period from November 1st to December 20th in the Common Calendar corresponds to the first Elven month, known as the 'Month of Souls.'"

"December 21st to February 1st is the second Elven month, called the 'Month of Rebirth.'"

"Soul reincarnates twice… According to astrology and common prophetic traditions, it could mean: starting from the next 'Month of Souls,' that is, from November 1st this year, to February 1st—a span of 93 days. Twice that duration would be 186 days. Calculating from that…"

"It would likely fall on May 5th next year, four days after the Belleteyn festival."

Next year's Belleteyn…

Allen frowned deeply.

"Can we be sure if it's two years or May 5th next year?" Vesemir asked.

Ianna cast him a sidelong glance. "You gave me only two pieces of information: 'related to a date' and 'soul reincarnates twice.' What more precision could you expect from me?"

"I'm a high priestess of Melitele, not an Elven sage or seer."

"Melitele governs fertility, harvest, childbirth—domains far removed from time and calendars."

Allen exchanged a glance with Vesemir, pondering for a moment before offering an apology:

"We didn't mean to withhold anything. It's just that the source of this information is sensitive—the fewer people who know, the better…"

"Of course, neither you nor Priestess Nenneke are among those who need to be excluded. On the contrary, this concerns both the temple and Ellander."

Ianna raised an eyebrow. "It concerns us?"

Allen nodded solemnly.

"The Wild Hunt—what nearly destroyed Ellander before—may launch a full-scale assault on the Northern Realms after the 'soul reincarnates twice.'"

"What?!!"

Ianna and Nenneke were both stunned, nearly leaping from their seats, their faces tense with alarm.

The memory of Belleteyn—the scars the Wild Hunt had carved into Ellander—had yet to heal.

The streets were still littered with hideous wounds and bandages.

If it were to happen again…

The mere thought of it made even the death-hardened Ianna and the composed Nenneke break into hurried prayers to Melitele.

Allen waited for their emotions to settle before describing what had occurred in the forest near Ban Ard the previous night. He detailed the Wild Hunt leader Eredin Bréacc Glas's chilling message word for word.

The two priestesses sat in long silence after hearing it all.

They didn't ask Allen where he'd obtained the information.

For a hero like him, the Blue Death of Ellander, to have ended up injured like this—his body still bearing the marks of fire magic—there were few creatures on the Northern Realms capable of such a feat.

As for how Allen had managed to travel the vast distance between Ellander and Ban Ard in a single night…

Everyone had their secrets.

Since Allen hadn't volunteered the information, they wouldn't pry.

"Ban Ard… is gone?" Ianna asked.

"The mage academy is still standing, shrouded in a magical barrier, so I couldn't see clearly. But the city is burning. From far away, it's a sea of flames, with smoke blackening the sky. Villages nearby are evacuating, fleeing from Ban Ard. So yes, Ianna. As of now, the Northern Realms have Ban Ard Academy, but no Ban Ard City."

"Melitele have mercy!" Nenneke gasped.

Hearing Allen's description, she felt as if she'd been transported back to that dreadful day of Belleteyn.

Everywhere, corpses. Humans, drenched in blood, screamed as they fled through the ruins.

In crowded areas, the ground was layered with grotesque carnage, the dead crushed beneath panicked feet more numerous than those felled by the Hunt.

Ellander had been hell on earth that day.

But Ban Ard and Ellander weren't the same.

While Ellander wasn't a royal capital, Ban Ard—with its mage academy—was arguably the safest place in the Northern Realms.

And yet now, its devastation was far worse than Ellander's had been.

The city in ruins, its people scattered—recovery would take a decade, even without further calamities.

And now the so-called King of the Wild Hunt promised to return…

"What do these monsters even want?" Nenneke shuddered. "Pure destruction? How can creatures like this exist?"

"Wait…"

A sudden thought struck Nenneke. She gasped, "Allen, what did you mean by a full-scale assault?"

"Surely what we saw at Ellander wasn't the entirety of the Wild Hunt?"

"That was just a scouting force," Allen said gravely. He had no doubt that the Hunt—capable of conquering worlds—could muster far greater numbers.

"Melitele save us!" Ianna and Nenneke both sucked in sharp breaths.

The hellish scene of Belleteyn loomed vividly in their minds.

Nenneke looked at Ianna, panicking. "Should we tell the duke immediately? Spread the word to the rulers of the Northern Realms so they can prepare—"

"Foolishness!" Ianna snapped, glaring. "What nonsense are you spouting? How would you explain this to Mason? Where did this information come from?"

Nenneke froze, realization dawning. She glanced guiltily at Allen before lowering her head.

"I'm sorry, Allen. I… I just… I'm terrified they'll come again…"

"Hmph!" Ianna snorted before Allen could speak. "A major crisis requires calm. Think before you act."

"Do you think Mason needs you to inform him? Do the kings of the Northern Realms require your warning?"

"Do you believe the mages of Ban Ard will keep silent? Witnesses have already fled in all directions. Can such news be contained?"

"Do you think they'd even want to hide it? Those conniving sorcerers will only scheme to drag the entire Northern Realms into the fray."

"If you involve yourself prematurely, what are you trying to accomplish? Where does that leave the temple?"

"And if Allen's identity is exposed, have you considered the consequences?"

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

Nenneke opened his mouth to speak, but Ianna's barrage of sharp reprimands immediately cut him off.

Allen tried to say something as well but was silenced by a few pointed glares from Ianna.

"Priest Nenneke spoke out of urgency; we all know the devastation the Wild Hunt has caused," Vesemir chuckled, using the opportunity to diffuse the tension. "To be honest, just thinking about the Festival of May in Ellander or the Flotsam Harbor still makes my legs tremble."

Ianna did not shy away from addressing the two witchers directly. "When I follow the Lady into eternity, Nenneke will become the temple's master. Any thoughtless words spoken without consideration will only bring catastrophe."

"Enough. Let's not dwell on this."

"Two cycles of soul rebirth…"

"The information left by the Wild Hunt's commander is still too vague. Since he's an intelligent being, not a mere monster, can we really trust his words?"

Allen hesitated when he heard this.

Would Eredin Bréacc Glas lie?

Yes, he would!

Allen assured himself without a doubt.

In the future, according to the books, Eredin ascended to the throne of Aen Elle through deceit and conspiracy. And now, this statement was directed at his enemies.

But would the Wild Hunt, with all their power, stoop to lying over what he might perceive as "a few insignificant ants"?

"This isn't a simple matter. There's so much to consider…" Ianna sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. "Don't overthink it. Focus on healing. You've already done more than enough."

With that, Ianna and Nenneke led Vesemir and a noisy group of young witchers out of the room, gently closing the door behind them.

Allen stared blankly at the closed door for a long moment, lost in silence.

"One possibility is two years, the other, less than one…"

"How could anyone not feel anxious about this?"

Allen let out a deep sigh.

Outside, crickets sang into the night, shadows of trees danced in the flickering candlelight.

In the stillness, Allen pushed through the pain and got out of bed. He rummaged through a basket near the bedside, filled with armor and miscellaneous items, until his hand closed around an egg-shaped object.

Ding!

"Detected: Guidance Stone of Ard Gaeth's Gate. Absorb?"

He climbed back into bed, covered himself with the blanket, and lay prone.

The mere two-meter trek had left him drenched in sweat from the agony. The bandages wrapped around him were faintly seeping with blood.

Absorb!

With a thought, the pitch-black stone floated out of Allen's palm and promptly disappeared into thin air.

Ding! Absorbing Guidance Stone of Ard Gaeth's Gate…

Ding! Guidance Stone of Ard Gaeth's Gate integrating with the Witcher's Journal…

Ding! Absorption of Guidance Stone of Ard Gaeth's Gate in progress…

Ding! Guidance Stone of Ard Gaeth's Gate integrating with the Shadow of Ard Gaeth's Gate…

Integrating with the Witcher's Journal…

Integrating with the Shadow of Ard Gaeth's Gate…

The notifications were markedly different from those of absorbing Ard Gaeth's Gate fragments in the past.

Suddenly, an image of a translucent emerald-green gate, formed during the Conjunction of the Spheres and interdimensional convergence, appeared vividly in Allen's mind.

Just then—

Ding! Absorption of Guidance Stone of Ard Gaeth's Gate complete!

Ding! Requirement for Guidance Coordinates reduced.

That's it? It's… over?

Allen stared blankly at the translucent interface in front of him.

The process of absorbing Ard Gaeth's Gate fragments had always taken much longer in the past. This had been over in barely ten seconds.

The reward from absorbing the Guidance Stone also seemed astonishingly underwhelming.

No new abilities unlocked. Not even an upgrade to existing skills…

"Requirement for Guidance Coordinates reduced… Guidance Coordinates…"

Murmuring to himself, Allen subconsciously flipped through the pages of the Witcher's Journal in his mind.

.....

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384. Hen Gedymdeith is Dead.

385. Allen's Influence.

386. The Gambler's Table of Fate.

387. The Anomaly at Moën Village.

388. The Great Calamity Hidden in the Dark.