Demon Hunter: School of the Wolf.

Chapter 570 She-Ra: Who Else But Me to Save the Wolf School!

The gale swept the waves, colliding with the waves on the other side and shattering them into countless white sprays, foam, and water vapor.

The swift struggled to soar between the crests and troughs of the waves, dodging the rising water vapor to keep its wings dry and prevent it from falling into the abyss.

Swifts.

He recognized the bird.

They fly very fast, and like to hover and fly rapidly in the air without stopping, almost never landing on the ground or vegetation. They can drink water and eat while flying...

As he pondered this inexplicably emerging knowledge, a deafening roar, indistinguishable in gender, echoed in his ears… no… throughout the entire external world swept by a storm.

Only those who follow the swifts can survive.

The swift is a symbol of spring, a savior, and someone who opens forbidden doors and shows us the path to salvation.

Swifts will make the world's rebirth possible.

Swifts...

Swifts... Swifts...

【Givellie...】

【Givellie...Givellie...】

……

In the boundless world, echoes resound, and the waves rise and fall, ripple, collide, and dissipate along with the sound waves of these echoes…

This sudden surge of death and rebirth, like the ebb and flow of the tide, made his heart tremble, swell, wail, and rage in his mind and heart...

“Givell…” he murmured softly, lost in thought.

Unbeknownst to him, his companions who once soared through the sky, leaving behind water droplets and gliding with the wind were no longer around him.

The whole world seemed to consist only of this raging sea and the swifts that were darting precariously but gracefully on the edge of death.

“Givell…” he murmured thoughtfully.

“Givea…” he paused, then suddenly realized, “Cirira Fiona Ellen Rayanlun!!!”

He shouted loudly on the chaotic, noisy sea filled with sounds of destruction.

In an instant, the wind stopped and the rain ceased.

The seagulls' cries stopped.

Erin could still feel the spray from the giant waves, but there was no longer any ocean beneath him.

Or rather, there is indeed an ocean there—but it is a sea of ​​grass, an endless expanse of vast grassland.

He stood among the grass covering the half-human figure, the tiny barbs on the grass blades stinging his exposed skin.

“Cirira Fiona Ellen Rayanlun…”

He repeated the name as if it were a lifeline, still shaken from surviving the raging sea.

then……

“I am Cirira Fiona Ellen Rayanren,” someone responded to him. “Who are you?”

who are you?
He didn't look towards the source of the sound, but instead, in the clear wind that swept across the entire grassland, he asked himself in bewilderment.

"who am I?"

“I am...I am...I am Arryn, the Witcher of the Wolf School.”

At one point, a flash of inspiration struck him, and he suddenly realized the truth.

Just as he was about to check his own condition, he suddenly remembered something, froze, and turned his head to look.

A girl with a loose collar, wearing a gray linen shirt, stood in the grass.

She had delicate features, beautiful gray hair, and a pair of bright green eyes, and looked no more than sixteen years old.

A dark red, ugly scar runs across his left eye, directly ruining the overall aesthetic, but adding a touch of rebellious, wild beauty.

She was holding the reins of a black horse, with a white horse following beside it...

wrong!

That's not a white horse!
That horse was different from ordinary horses; its incredibly slender and graceful neck supported a tiny head.

Slender pasterns, thick, long tail.

A spiral-shaped, sharp horn, at least two palm-lengths long, grows from its round forehead and emits a faint white light in the dark.

It is a unicorn.

Legend has it that there are intelligent and emotional beings.

Without a doubt, this girl is the Lion Cub of Sintra, Princess Brug and Duchess Soden, heir to Inis Ad Skellig and Inis Ann Skellig, overlord of Atri and Eber Yara, Duchess Rowan and Yamurak, Lord of Darn Rowan Castle, and the rightful heir to the Nilfgaardian throne…

Ciri Fiona Ellen Rayanlun.

Ancient blood.

“The Wolf School… Erin…” She noticed Erin’s gaze on her left eye and frowned. “I don’t recall anyone with that name in the Wolf School…”

Erin, however, did not notice the unusual tone in her voice, and instead kept screaming in her mind.

"It's not her!"

"It wasn't her!"

There have been many speculations about why he came from another time. One highly probable speculation is that Shire summoned him to save White Frost from its inevitable fate.

She can travel through time and space.

From the present, to the past, to the future, from the world of Witcher to Earth, which has been visited in the original stories, and many other worlds...

The Witcher's Handbook also involves the power of time and space, with the Gate of Ade Gass making the miracle of the celestial spheres converging possible.

She-Ra is destined to control the ancient blood of the Ard-Gates Gate.

Is everything really just such a coincidence?

and also……

Before Vigfortz sent that strange letter, the Ancient Blood did not exist in Erin, but the Ancient Blood was the main thread running through the entire world.

Could this also be part of Siri's future strategy?

After all, she possesses ancient blood, and even though she hasn't fully activated her potential, she can still be resurrected, travel between worlds, return to the past, and travel to the future—an ancient blood that is even more divine than the gods…

If it's Ciri Fiona Ellen Rayanen's arrangement for the future, what's impossible?
But no!
Every subtle expression on her face told him that she knew nothing about it.

Who could have transported him to the world of Witchers and given him the powerful yet cold and ruthless Witcher's Handbook?
"Why aren't you saying anything?" The girl took a few steps back warily.

Erin snapped out of his reverie at the sound, calmly observing the girl and the unicorn that should be named Ivaraquax, trying to figure out what era She-Ra was currently in...

They have fled from Tyr Na Lia, the capital of the otherworldly elves Ain El, and are currently evading the pursuit of the Wild Hunt.
Or perhaps Geralt was killed by a pitchfork during the massacre in Rivia, which led to Yennefer's death as well, and then Ciri sent them to Apple Tree Island?

Even in the third game, after killing the Wild Hunt King Eredin Brick Glass and resolutely entering the teleportation portal opened by Avalak to save the world from destruction by the "White Frost," he traveled to an unknown world.

Thinking of this, Erin immediately perked up.

The girl was so frightened by his excited appearance that she took a few steps back, like a lone young animal.

She gripped the black horse's reins tightly, ready to leap onto its back and escape at any moment:

"Did I guess right? Who sent you? How did you find me? Avalak or Eredin?"

The unicorn also lowered its head warily, pointing its sharp, glowing horn at him. Instantly...

My keen senses issued a stern warning; a chill seeped from my tailbone all the way down to my scalp.

However, Erin paid no attention to the threat.

Avalak… Arryn caught the key words. It seems that Ciri is probably still at the point in time and space where she was just escaping from Tyr Na'ria and struggling to control her Ancient Blood talent.

What a pity... He sighed inwardly.

then……

"Can't you see these are the eyes of a witcher?" Erin pointed to his own eyes, only to find that the girl's brows furrowed even deeper.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" she shouted, stomping her right foot on the ground and gracefully mounting the black horse.

Erin realized something and looked down at his hands.

It was a pair of pure black hands, without any reflection, as if he were wearing a pair of black cotton gloves, but the palm prints and textures were clearly visible.

When he realized this...

In an instant.

The blackness faded rapidly from the point where his gaze fell, revealing a pair of hands with dark calluses covering the tiger's mouth and palms.

Then came the red leather wristbands, followed by shoulder pads woven from a magic-resistant alloy and a black and red fastening leather strap.

But... that's impossible!
It wasn't that he couldn't possibly be wearing the Wolf School's Grandmaster-level armor, but rather that he didn't take off his gloves at all after returning to his room.

Rather than saying that the fading of black revealed his true appearance, it would be more accurate to say that it showed him how he imagined himself should look now.

"where is this place?"

Erin began to think about a problem he had overlooked.

Where did Wiegoffetz's letter take him?
"You really are a Witcher!"

"Do you know where this is? Can you take me home?"

The girl, who had mounted the black horse, gripped the reins tightly, and was about to escape, gasped in surprise.

Seeing Erin's appearance seemed to delight her. She had just mounted the black horse when she hastily jumped off without any warning.

But after taking two steps closer, he stopped again.

“But that’s not right. Geralt, Vesemir, Escalde, and Lambert,” she counted on her fingers. “The Wolf School only has these four Witchers. None of them are named Arryn. Besides me, Kaer Morhen hasn’t taken on any apprentices for a long time.”

Upon hearing this, Erin temporarily set aside his doubts, organized his thoughts, and said softly:

“I know Vesemir, but I don’t know Geralt, Escal and Lambert, unless they are apprentices who have not passed the Trial of the Grass.”

"But there are definitely more than four people in Kaer Morhen. The Wolf School is the most prosperous school of witchers on the entire continent, the orthodox lineage of the Witcher Order, and it has never stopped accepting apprentices..."

"Impossible!" The girl was clearly stunned when she heard this.

Just then, the unicorn came over and gently nuzzled the girl's arm with its horn.

The girl tilted her head, as if listening intently.

No sound came out of the unicorn's mouth. Its dark, pure eyes, like those of a doe, glanced at Erin, and then the light from its horn flickered.

"What?!" the girl exclaimed again in surprise. "You're saying this isn't the right place, and it's not the right time, which means..."

"Hmm...hmm...I'll ask right away..."

She nodded slightly twice and looked at Erin again.

“Ai… Ai…”

The girl hadn't forgotten the name of the boy in front of her, who wasn't much older than her.

She was just thinking about how she should address him.

Calling him Erin directly seems inappropriate, as he is both a stranger and a senior figure in the Wolf School.

She came from a noble family and was a well-mannered child.

Of course, it's not in Sintra.

Her mother, Yennefer, and her nanny, Nannick, taught her aristocratic genealogy at the Temple of Meritelli.

Although she seemed to be counting ants on the ground and hadn't studied it seriously, she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of strangers.

Ivaraquax said that he must have come from the past, before the Wolf School was reduced to only four people, so he must be a predecessor of the Wolf School, and he also knew Vesemir.

But... but...

"Neither Geralt nor Vesemir taught me how to address an older, unfamiliar Witcher senior?"

The somewhat stubborn girl, who had gotten stuck on a particular point, suddenly found herself at a loss on this issue.

Geralt and Vesemir certainly wouldn't teach her, because the Witchers of the Northern Continent were almost extinct; there were probably no more than fifty in the entire continent combined.

You might never meet one in your lifetime, so there's no need to know about them.

If you encounter them, just address them by their names.

"Knowing Vesemir means he's not very old... no, he lives in a time not far removed from ours..."

As the girl followed the logic, trying to grasp the logic of the nobility, and pondered honorifics, she suddenly realized a problem she had always overlooked.

“Since he lived in Vesemir’s time, but I’ve never met him, or even know him, that means…”

The girl dared not think any further; her racing thoughts even made her forget why she had stopped—simply to find a suitable address.

She looked at the handsome boy before her with a mixture of pity and reluctance—a boy even younger than herself and than Yar (a sixteen-year-old apprentice scribe at the Temple of Meriteli who lost his left hand after the outbreak of the Second Northern War).

Yes, the boy before me had eyes as pure as the sapphire jewelry that Calanthe's grandmother loved most, and was even more handsome than Yar from the Temple of Meriteli.

Do not!
She is even more beautiful than Mihir (a member of the Rat Gang, a criminal gang that Ciri encountered during the coup on Thaned Island, when she fled in panic after encountering the Wild Hunt, only to be teleported to the Korraz Desert by the Tower of Swifts, and then taken to Nilfgaard by a slave-hunting caravan; she is Ciri's same-sex lover).

Erin was stared at by Shirei's strange gaze after her sudden pause.

Unbeknownst to him, the Ancient Blood, the hope that Bai Shuang held in his heart to save the world, had already compared his appearance with that of a man and a woman.

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, he thought to himself, "No wonder he's the 'little madman' of his craziest, strangest, and most rebellious period. His behavior is unusual and unlike that of a normal person." He then coughed lightly twice, feeling uneasy, and said:

"Just call me Erin."

"Oh, Erin." The girl seemed to wake from a dream.

After meeting Erin's gaze, she remembered what she had been daydreaming about and blushed.

Thinking of Michel, who had died tragically at the hands of Leo Bonnet, he paled again, sighed, and, pulling himself out of his thoughts, asked:
"Eirin, can you tell me what time it is?"

"1180."

"Oh, 1180," the girl muttered, repeating it over. That was eighty years ago. Then she decided to go back and discuss with Ivaraquax how to calibrate the time and place for the next time travel.

At this moment!

"and many more!"

"Eighty years ago!"

The girl suddenly trembled, and her expression became visibly excited.

She thought to herself, "Eighty years ago, the Wolf School hadn't been destroyed yet."

"Why should I rush to leave and try to change the fate of this school of thought's destruction?"

(End of this chapter)