Demon Hunter: School of the Wolf.

Chapter 581 Vigfortz: You are my future!
Putting aside the impressions left over from her previous life, Erin could not deny Wigford's excellence.

He was elegant, humble, and erudite, like a learned scholar, with long brown hair and deep black eyes, and extremely handsome. In the eyes of sorceresses, he was the ideal male wizard.

In terms of professional skill, Vigfortz did not waste his magical talent and was recognized by everyone as the successor to Hen Gedimidis.

To put it in simpler terms...

Vigfortz is the wizarding council, and the crown prince who will eventually ascend the throne.

"Please use."

A glass of mellow and clear white wine was brought over, held by slender, fair fingers, with traces of paint on the thumb and little finger.

"Thank you." Erin snapped out of her thoughts, took the glass, and turned her gaze back to the magnificent painting before her.

Lydia van Bradwater smiled faintly; the young sorceress possessed an elegance that rivaled any woman's.

Erin never expected things to turn out this way.

Upon knocking on Vigolfotz's door, the young and handsome wizard warmly welcomed him into the room, led him to a painting on the balcony, and began to lavish praise on the magnificent scenery of Kaer Morhen.

He made no mention of being imprisoned for several days, nor of the Ancient Blood or the Child of Miracles.

For a moment, Erin was also a little confused. Before he could come to his senses, he sat down in front of the painting.

A solitary gray castle, towering mountains, swirling clouds, the rising sun partially obscured, and soaring eagles...

The cold, hard color scheme makes the castle in the painting seem to be looking down on the world with a chilling gaze.

This should be a painting by Lydia van Bradwater.

In the original story, the disfigured sorceress was described as having amazing painting skills, with many of her works hanging in the corridors of the Aretusa Academy.

Considering what Mary just mentioned, Aretusa will also teach painting, etiquette, and poetry, Lydia van Bradwater's future painting skills are already evident.

“I don’t understand art,” Erin said, “but even without much artistic talent, I can see that it’s beautiful; it’s a true masterpiece.”

Lydia van Bradwater bowed slightly, smiled faintly, and said in a cool tone, "Thank you. It's just that the view from Kaer Morhen Castle is too beautiful; I can't describe even a fraction of it."

"You're too modest." Erin shook her head slightly, but didn't continue praising her.

To be honest, after looking at the oil paintings for a while, he could feel that the stiff atmosphere in the room had softened a lot.

But the thought that this might be Wiggerts's goal made Erin secretly wary.

Although Vigfortz is not yet in its complete form, a carnivorous beast will not start eating grass for no reason.

It was all just a facade.

“Lydia is indeed too modest,” Wigfordts said with a smile, shaking his head. “You’re right, Erin, beauty is indeed universal. Even a farmer who spends all day buried in the soil will often marvel at the sunset and the morning dew…”

Erin sensed that the wizard was about to get to the point, so he listened intently without making a sound.

Wigford simply smiled at him, then nodded to Lydia van Bradford: "Lydia, could you please take the things on the table to Tissaya de Veres for me?"

With the rustling of silk, Lydia van Bradwater nodded to him.

Standing on the balcony, Erin watched her turn around, take a tightly sealed leather bag from the table, and leave.

"Bang~"

The gold and red candlelight flickered incessantly.

Only Erin and Wigford remained in the room.

“You are very wary of me,” Wigfordts broke the silence first, “but apart from that attack instigated by Ben Ade, we should not know each other. Why are you so wary of me?”

"Why do you think that?" Erin narrowed his eyes, subtly avoiding a direct answer to Vigforts' question.

“Of course it’s not because of mind reading. Your mental defenses are excellent, so excellent that I even suspect you’re not a witcher, but a warlock skilled in mental defenses,” Vigfortz joked, but no one responded.

Erin just stared at him coldly.

Wigford didn't seem to care. He chuckled to himself a couple of times, then leaned against the gray stone railing, looking back at the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

"The uncontrollable primal magic that is easily influenced by emotions always makes people reveal the soul they least want to be exposed."

"So perhaps others don't know, but you should know, Erin, I wasn't born a noble sorcerer. Before my talent for magic was discovered, I was an orphan abandoned by my own parents, living in the slums..."

Vigfortz's words instantly reminded Erin of the burst of primal magic when he was attacked in Wengeburg, Aden.

Those were seven or eight images—slums littered with excrement and sewage, heavily guarded prisons, lush woodlands…—compulsively flooding your brain, forcing you to empathize, a memory impact that completely immerses you in sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste, and even psychological feelings.

In other words, he truly felt everything that Vigfortz experienced in those scenes, even more vividly than the experiences in the memories of sorcerers and witchers.

However, Erin just stared at Wigfordts in silence, without saying a word.

"After my talent for magic was discovered, things only got a little better, because the one who found me wasn't a warlock, but a druid from the Druid Circle of Cowell."

"The Druids of Cowell use magic, but they also see magic as bait for chaos to corrupt the world. In their eyes, magical energy is more like a curse than a talent."

"Experiences in the Druid Ring of Cowell were not much easier than those in the slums of Logevan."

"And in those two places, the most important thing is to read between the lines."

"I need to find kind old women in the slums, generous nobles in good spirits, and gamblers who have just won money and haven't left yet. I also have to pretend to hate magic in the Druid's Circle of Cowell, otherwise I'll be subjected to harsh training by the druids and have my food rations reduced..."

"That's when I learned not to mistake the reflection on the lake for the stars in the night sky."

"so……"

“Your eyes,” Wigford turned his head, pointed to his own eyes, and stared at Erin, “I don’t need to read minds. Your eyes are telling me that you’re wary of me, very wary, like someone suddenly standing on the street in the dead of winter offering me bread…”

"It might just be the idle kindness of the upper class satisfying their emotions, but it's more likely a trap set up under the guise of an orphanage, where children are trafficked, dismembered, and mutilated..."

Erin raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, not denying it: "But I think that's not important, is it?"

“This is important, Erin, this is important,” Wigfordts shook his head. “Soon we will be partners who depend on each other for life.”

"At that time, you must trust that I will not betray you to Sunny and Ottolan, and I must also trust that you can rescue Henry Gedmiddis. Otherwise, not only will I have no future or development for sorcerers, but Sunny and Ottolan will not forgive a traitor."

“I remember we had a contract…”

“No matter how strict the contract is, there’s no way to circumvent it,” Vigforts gently shook his head to interrupt. “Besides, a contract that’s too strict would not only be something that I, Tissaya de Veris, and you wouldn’t sign, but it would also make the mission to rescue Hen Gedimidis more difficult…”

Before he knew it, the male wizard had taken control of the conversation.

It was clearly arranged by Erin for this meeting, and the purpose was not to rescue Henry Gedimidis, but to question the letter.

Now it seems as if Wigford is criticizing him for being so wary of his future partner, otherwise it will affect the mission.

This was an accusation against a witcher's professionalism, albeit a very subtle and euphemistic one. Erin paused for a few seconds, then said, "So what do you want me to do?"

Rescuing Henry Gedimidis is a low-return adventure for Vigforts, but for Erin and the Wolf School, it is a gamble they have to take.

They could not accept a warlock dynasty that was hostile to Kaer Morhen, established in Koldwin, within the traditional hunting "territory" of the Wolf School.

If a sorcerer organization that hates witchers were to take flight with the wings of secular power, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Wigfordts smiled sincerely: "It's not about what I want you to do, Erin, but about how we should bridge the gap between us."

"Honesty is the only cure."

Logevan's Wigfordts was tall and imposing, with a handsome and noble appearance and a sincere and earnest voice.

If it weren't for the "prejudice" from his past life, he would be a male wizard who would make people feel good and trustworthy at first sight.

But once you have an impression of your past life, the more sincere and earnest you are, the more wary people will become.

Seeing a slight change in Erin's expression, Wiggerts assumed his words had worked. He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, then asked softly:
"Ailin, do you know why I accepted Tissaya de Veres's offer of help?"

"Why?" the Witcher asked cooperatively.

He was indeed very curious about this issue.

For Wigford, rescuing Henry Gedimidis was an unnecessary political gamble.

With Vigfortz's talent, status, and prestige, he only needed to wait step by step to steadily rise from the lower council of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers to the upper council without any obstacles.

Once a legendary sorcerer from the Association of Talents and Skills passes away, he will naturally ascend to the pinnacle of power in the Northern Continent.

Even if Henry Gedimidis were to die, his rise would only slow down, not stop.

Male wizards have very long lifespans and plenty of time.

In the original story, Vigfortz did indeed become one of the five supreme sorcerers, and even the one with the highest power among them.

After the First Northern War, he had a great influence on the kings of the northern continent, to the point that the king of Temuria complained, "That sorcerer's power is too great."

He had absolutely no reason to take on this task.

As for the so-called upholding of justice, no matter how much time can transform a person, it cannot change their nature.

Honesty was just a disguise for Wigofferts.

of course……

Erin wouldn't think it was because of him. He wasn't that narcissistic and didn't think that being called the Son of Miracles would make everyone in the world target him.

Ida Emin's attitude proves this point.

You must understand that the free spirits need a game-changer more than anyone else.

result……

"Because of you, Arryn, the youngest Witcher Master of the Wolf School, the tamer of the Great Griffin, the Godslayer, and..."

"The Child of Miracles!"

Wigford's voice was firm and almost fanatical, as if it were about to burst into flames, growing increasingly rapid.

"Those who are far away will die of the plague, while those who are close at hand will perish by the sword..."

"Those who flee and hide will succumb to hunger, and those who survive will perish in the frost and snow..."

"Because Tedd Deireádh is coming—the end, the age of sword and axe, the age of contempt."

"In the time of white frost and white light, in the era of cold wolves and snow..."

"And Filius Miraculi—the Son of Miracles—was born into this world..."

……

After reciting a long verse of prophecy in one breath, Wigfordts gazed intently at Erin:

“You, Erin, you are the Child of Miracles, you are the future of this world, and I…”

"Hope to walk hand in hand with the future!"
-
"Bang~"

Erin gently closed the wooden door, turned around and paused for a moment. He nodded to Lydia van Bradwater, who had been quietly waiting at the end of the corridor, before leaving the tower through the dimly lit corridor.

Wigford had no idea where the letter was taking him.

He claims that he found a ritual related to the ancient blood and the children of miracles in a large tomb that is believed to belong to the great prophet Islinne Egri Epp Evinion.

That letter was merely a vehicle for that ritual.

Before Erin could even suggest a loan or trade, Wigford generously offered to give him what he had found in the tomb at their next meeting.

If Erin is interested, he could personally escort Henry Gedimidis to the great tomb after rescuing him.

But the tomb of Islinne, the ancient blood, and the rituals of the Children of Miracles are no longer important, at least not now.

In a daze, he seemed to have been forced to take on a follower, and a very fanatical one at that.

Yes.

That little brother is called Vigfortz, Vigfortz of Logevan, the source of magic, one of the five members of the Future Talents and Skills Association, and undoubtedly the most powerful male wizard.

To be honest, because of his memories from his past life, he has always had a vague sense of dominance over those who will shine in the future.

It's similar to how everyone thinks I'm a piece on a chessboard.

But I know myself that I am not a pawn, but the one who sees through the future and wields the pieces.

Although Wigfordtze is very good at disguising himself, I know his true nature.

but……

How could a man with a grand ambition for the future, a man who aspires to control the entire northern continent, and an extremely proud genius, possibly submit to a witcher—even if he is the Son of Miracles—without experiencing a series of setbacks?
He felt that he had seen through him, yet it also seemed that he hadn't seen through him completely.

The chess pieces on the board seemed to suddenly possess intelligence, even though their movements were advantageous to the player.

Back in his room, Erin sat in a daze, pondering for a long time, trying to understand Wiegoffetz's mind.

The golden and red candlelight flickered incessantly, and owls hooted hoarsely among the mountains.

(End of this chapter)