Demon Hunter: School of the Wolf.

Chapter 639 Geralt's father, Arryn's die-hard fan!

“Vera…” The mistress of the Ring of Maidruid was clearly taken aback, and even the mental fluctuations in her telepathic spell were stirred up. “You mean the Crimson Fox, Vera?”

This is a pointless statement, but the mental fluctuations it conveys are beyond the Witcher's expectations. It's like meeting a roommate at the beginning of college, only to find out that he knows Jay Chou and can even invite Jay Chou to drink milk tea together. It's a mix of shock and surprise.

This made Erin realize that although Vera had mentioned Visenna, the two sorceresses didn't seem to know each other at all.

Moreover, Visena, the mistress of the Ring of Maidalui, appears to be an admirer of Vera.

He thought about the former briefly and found it to be fine; if one were truly familiar with a bird, it would be impossible not to recognize it as a lovebird.

When he wakes up, he won't be on the desolate mountain path of Amer Mountain, but on a soft bed on the third floor of the tower on the east side of Kaermohan.

And the latter...

People tend to underestimate acquaintances and overestimate strangers.

Having spent so much time with Vera and grown accustomed to her doting, motherly demeanor, the Witcher seemed to unconsciously underestimate her status in the supernatural world, especially among sorceresses.

Looking back now, the most widespread and largest-scale cult of Meritelli in the Northern Continent was headed by Pope Ianna, who was Vera's adopted daughter.

Tisaya de Veris, the most powerful sorceress on the northern continent, is Vera's close friend with whom she can talk at length.

Aida Emin, the only female sage among the Mountain People, once gifted her a lovebird. After she stripped Shadia, a true descendant of the Elven King, of her magical abilities, she sent her to the temple to become a nun and healer...

What kind of status is this!
Among the sorceresses of the Northern Continent, she had already reached the pinnacle of reputation.

It is true that Visena is the mistress of the Ring of Druids in Mahinard, but there can be countless Rings of Druids in the Northern Continent, while there is only one Crimson Fox whose name is etched in history books.

“It’s the Vera you’re thinking of right now,” Erin said calmly. “I’ve seen her use a portal; it should be able to get you to the Ring of Maidalui as quickly as possible…”

"She...Ms. Vera, of course she can. Although she hasn't mastered spatial magic, a portal is nothing to such a great figure. Yes, there are rumors that she's now with the Wolf School, but are you sure she'll come..."

Visena was so excited that she was almost incoherent, and Erin could imagine that her expression must be quite something.

The mental fluctuations emanating from Colin caused a slightly milder tremor.

After a few seconds of silence, he asked, "Vera, isn't the Crimson Fox a character from the epic Rebellion of Ariel? Is she... is she still alive?"

“Of course she’s still alive,” Vincenta snapped before Erin could finish. “Ms. Vera is not even two hundred and fifty years old; she’s still very young…”

Two hundred and fifty years old... very young... Erin was somewhat silent, wondering how these two words could be put together.

However, considering that Hen Gedimidis was a child of immigrants during the "first landing," was selected to be taught by elven mages and became a mage, and was already nearly four hundred years old, he was still active on the northern continent before the Wild Hunt destroyed Ban Ad. It wasn't until a hundred years later that he died of a heart attack during the coup on Xenide Island.

Vera is indeed not old.

"I'm sorry, Colin... Colin just has a habit of speaking without thinking, he didn't mean to... tease Ms. Vera like that..."

After scolding Colin, Vincent apologized to Erin somewhat nervously, her tone even trembling and pleading.

Colin seemed to remember the reputation of the Crimson Fox at this moment, and his face turned pale instantly. His voice trembled as he apologized repeatedly.

This reminded Erin of the time before the High Mountain Trial, when he unintentionally made up about the relationship between Vera and Zoe in his mind. Vera overheard this with her mind-reading ability, and Erin immediately fled from Kaer Morhen as the Witcher Leto without lingering for even a day.

For a moment, I was in a daze, unsure whether it was from the fatigue brought on by the injury or from the memories of the past.

"Erin?" Vinsenna called out through telepathy.

Erin snapped out of her daze and replied, "Don't worry, I didn't hear anything."

"You are all my saviors, how could I do such a thing..."

Vincent and Colin both breathed a sigh of relief.

“The contributions of the Wolf School to humanity are undeniable. No sane person would ignore a Witcher lying unconscious in the wilderness,” Vinsenna said softly.

Most of the humans, nobles, and wizards in Cordwin would… Erin mentally muttered a curse, and amidst the mental fluctuations, continued gratefully, “I still want to thank you both…”

After several rounds of polite conversation, they finally got back to the main topic.

Vincent raised the crystal bird in her hand: "So, how do I summon Ms. Vera?"

“Just press the crystal bird’s beak against my forehead and let it go,” Erin whispered.

Following the Witcher's instructions, Vinsenna pressed the beak of the lovebird against his forehead.

Colin watched the scene quietly, but after calming down, he was not as calm as he appeared.

Whether that seemingly useless noble artifact could connect him to the Crimson Fox was secondary; he also didn't understand the structure and organization of the Witcher school.

He just suddenly thought of it...

How could a demon hunter capable of summoning a blood-red fox with magical artifacts be the ordinary demon hunter he and Vinsenna had previously believed—the one who had just passed the trial and was separated from his mentor by a powerful monster…

“The Witcher of the Wolf School, Erin… Erin…” Colin regained the strong sense of familiarity when the Witcher revealed his identity.

Soon.

"Clap clap~"

The crystal bird, its beak pressed against the witcher's forehead, suddenly flapped its wings a few times, as if it had been magically brought to life from its inanimate, human-craft-like state.

Vincent quickly followed the instructions to let go and opened the wooden door of the closed carriage.

Sunlight, a gentle breeze, and the sounds of caravans and travelers outside instantly flooded into the carriage.

The crystal bird, sparkling and translucent, suddenly took flight and soared into the dazzling sunlight.

At the very moment when the seven-colored flashes of light flowed from the Crystal Bird's wings into Colin's eyes, the Wandering Knight had a sudden flash of inspiration. He stared wide-eyed at the wounded man lying motionless on the thatched roof of the carriage, his brown pupils instantly doubling in size.

"You...you're Erin! You're that Erin?!" Colin shouted excitedly.

Staring at the crystal bird's transparent wings as it disappeared into the clear blue sky, Vinsenna was startled and scolded, "Colin, what's wrong with you now? He's of course Erin!"

“No! No! He’s not Erin… No, he is Erin, but not that Erin…” Now it was Colin who was rambling incoherently, not Vincenta.

"What are you talking about?" Vinsenna glared at Colin again, but then realized something from his exaggerated expression and looked down at the Witcher.

Meanwhile, Colin took a deep breath, unable to hide his childlike excitement, and through trembling teeth, he growled an off-key lullaby:
"...He came from the north...he came from the north..."

"...As the azure cat eyes opened and closed, death answered the call..." "...A fourteen-year-old young knight from Elland named his beloved silver-white longsword Elsa..."

"...He used this sword to kill the demons, to kill the water ghosts, to kill everyone's fear..."

……

"What the hell are you singing?" Vincenta frowned.

Colin stopped humming awkwardly, took a deep breath, and then whispered as if worried something was quietly slipping away:
"He is Erin, the Death Knight from the North, the Witcher Knight of Elland, the youngest Witcher Master of the Wolf School, Elsa's master, the Beastmaster of the Great Griffin, the Blue Death, and..."

Colin paused in his excited tone, then said, "The Godslayer—Ayrin!"

“The carriage can’t hold that many people,” the Witcher, who was feeling somewhat tired after struggling to use the Messenger Bird, smiled weakly amidst the intertwined mental fluctuations of the three of them. “You can just call me Erin…”
-
Francesca Fantaby is no longer recognizable as the noble and beautiful elven princess she once was.

The exquisite headdress was removed, and although the golden hair was not tied up with any decorative hairstyle, it was simply tied up, but the long journey had made the tied hair a little messy.

The fair skin had no injuries, but it was speckled with mud and sweat stains.

Although this still cannot overshadow Francesca Fantaby's beauty, it adds a unique charm reminiscent of a country girl, which perfectly matches her current state.

tired!
She had never been this tired before!

The muscles in my legs—flounder, calf, seamstress, hamstring, and half tendon—were trembling, feeling weak and sore as if they had been injected with unripe lemon juice.

The blisters on my feet healed, but then they reappeared.

She had never missed the bed in the Free Elf Camp so much, even though it was just a half-finished product made of two tattered blankets pieced together.

But she gritted her teeth, grabbed the sharp tree roots on the steep slope, and climbed up.

She cannot show even the slightest weakness in front of another person.

So she numbly climbed one steep slope after another, occasionally taking out her lovebirds, releasing them and then bringing them back, before continuing her climb until she finally stopped in front of a sparse grove of trees.

"No need to go any further, Francesca, it's still a dead end ahead. We need to take a detour."

When Francesca Fantaby heard Vesemir's voice behind her, she immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

The muscle soreness she had been suppressing with willpower suddenly surged up, causing her to lose her grip on a bent, fallen maple tree. She stumbled and almost fell off the cliff.

In the end, it was Ida Emin who quickly pulled her back.

"Be careful, Enid."

Ida Emin, panting, brushed the dust off Francesca Fantabe's leather armor without using any spells.

This has happened many times before, each time using magic, and even the most powerful warlock cannot withstand such depletion.

Ida Emin didn't try to persuade her to give up, because she had already tried countless times without ever getting a positive response, so she simply stopped trying.

"If only the activated Lovebirds could go through the portal..." Ada Emin sighed inwardly.

Unfortunately, once the lovebird initiates the message delivery command, it cannot be canceled by any means unless it is delivered to the recipient.

Dante and Jerón Morlu, standing behind the two elves, retracted their raised arms and habitually relaxed their muscles, a gesture they had performed countless times.

"I think we need to take a break."

Vesemir glanced at the equally exhausted Vera, Mary, and Wigfordts, and offered his advice.

For three or four consecutive days, they tracked the enemy almost without sleep. Not to mention the physically weak warlock, even the three demon hunters were finding it difficult to keep up.

However, unlike the sorcerers Vera, Margarita Laux Antillie, Francesca Fantaby, Ida Emin, and Wiggeferts, who were simply exhausted from physical exertion, the three witchers had to protect everyone in this desolate wilderness, when the physically weak sorcerers were at their physical limits, and before any unexpected events could occur.

The mental strain of constant tension is no less than the physical exhaustion of a warlock.

In fact, the best option for searching for Arryn's whereabouts would be for Vesemir, Dante, and Jerón Morlu to follow the Lovebirds, rather than leading a group of physically weak warlocks.

However, the Lovebird can transfer ownership as long as the person who binds it agrees.

However, it is still uncertain what situation Erin is in now.

Vera, who possesses a large number of spells of various elements, can heal, and can deal with various emergencies, is essential.

Because Vigfortz is still a suspect and there is a possibility that he might help find Erin, he must stay with the team.

With two physically weak warlocks present, it didn't matter so much whether the other warlocks left or not.

Of course, the more important reason is that no one knows why, after trekking all the way from Cordwin to the border of Aden, to the edge of the Mahakan Mountains, they still haven't found any trace of Arrin.

Everyone—including Wiegoffertez, who was practically a witness—had the same question in their minds…

Where exactly is that kid, Erin?

Dante couldn't help but lean against the tree trunk and sigh.

If Wigford hadn't confidently asserted that when he and Lydia van Bradwater took Henry Gedmiddis away, Erin would not only be out of danger, but would also be in the upper hand on every level and could leave at any time.

The direction the lovebird flew was not towards Risberg.

They might even suspect that Ottoran had killed Arryn and left with the lovebirds and Arryn's body.

“I’m sorry.” Francesca Fantaby slumped onto the dark brown ground. “If it weren’t for me, Erin would have been found long ago…”

“This is none of your business, Francesca.” Vesemir shook his head slightly, and even Mary did not object.

Of course, it's also possible that the young female sorceress, who collapsed to the ground, was too exhausted to refute.

After resting for a while and taking a few sips of the energy-restoring potion, Francesca Fantaby, as usual, took out the Lovebird to determine the direction.

Just then.

Francesca Fantaby suddenly looked up as if she had sensed something.

A crystal bird, sparkling clear, descended from the sky.

(End of this chapter)