"Good morning, Vesemir."
Lann naturally raised his hand to the Old Demon Hunter as a greeting.
"You don’t seem worried at all."
Vesemir stood up from the ground and adjusted his slightly askew armor.
"It’s just a powerful teleportation spell. These long-lived, powerful beings are always . Even when they want to kick an unwanted guest out, they habitually use such over-the-top magic. Nothing to be surprised about."
"Oh, it seems Geralt still has a lot to learn from you. He still looks completely bewildered."
They both glanced over to see the milk-white-haired Demon Hunter looking dazed, while Ciri with her mouse-gray hair was chattering beside his leg.
He’s still too young.
Vesemir originally wanted to say this to account for his apprentice’s behavior.
But as he glanced at the young man beside him who looked like a bear cub, the words were swallowed back.
Even when Geralt was younger, he was seventy or eighty years old. The boy next to him was probably around twenty-five?
The gene seed’s powerful developmental adjustments made the Old Demon Hunter overestimate Lann’s age.
"It’s time to go, Vesemir. Getting Ciri out this time probably spent all my goodwill with the Dryads. Brokilon probably sees me no differently than they see you all now."
Lann tilted his head towards Vesemir and walked over to Geralt and Ciri.
The Old Demon Hunter followed closely behind him.
"If you’re heading to Ker Morhan, it’s best to go in winter."
Lann stopped in his tracks, turning around with a surprised yet delighted expression at the Old Demon Hunter who remained as he always was.
"So you’re agreeing to let me learn that highest level of knowledge among the Demon Hunters?"
Lann stopped walking, but Vesemir kept moving, passing right by him. This time, it was Lann following behind.
"Lann, when you rescued Ciri from Yogon’s jaws without any hesitation, I knew that you possess some new tricks unknown to an old guy like me, allowing you to confidently face a ten-meter fall. But it’s not those new tricks I care about; it’s your unhesitating attitude. I know you want to save people; you instinctively want to save people. That’s enough."
"You have the influence to ask Aisne to release someone, which means you’ve done at least one thing to earn the favor of the entire forest. Even before speaking to Aisne, you didn’t forget to personally ask Ciri for her thoughts. Honestly, if I had your standing, I’d probably forget or not care about a little girl’s thoughts like Ciri."
"You’re outstanding, Lann. In every aspect, you’re outstanding."
Lann couldn’t see Vesemir’s expression, but the Old Demon Hunter’s tone made him feel like he was facing his high school teacher, wishing him good luck for university entrance exams.
He himself wouldn’t benefit from your progress, but he genuinely hoped you’d go far.
"I’ll open everything in Ker Morhan to you. You can treat it as your home; that’s my promise...Ha, interesting; it’s been a long time since someone like you appeared in the Wolf School, Lann. The few I’ve taught recently haven’t been easy to deal with, including Geralt."
"Your Bear School’s Trial of Grasses must have mutated."
Lann smiled at the solid figure of the Old Demon Hunter, jogged a few steps forward, and threw an arm around Vesemir’s shoulder. The old man let out a hearty laugh.
"Hey! Be careful with these old bones of mine!" Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by NoveI[F]ire.net
"You mean the old bones that can knock down five or six strong youngsters?"
"Not that exaggerated; last month at the tavern fight, I only took down three."
"How many of them were there in total?"
The carefree laughter of the old man and the young man caught the attention of Geralt, who was still trying to make sense of the situation.
He and Ciri were just ’accusing’ each other.
Geralt ’accused’ Ciri of knowing who he was and their relationship the first time they met but keeping quiet.
Ciri’s old nanny at the Royal Palace was a firm believer in destiny and often told Ciri stories about the Demon Hunters’ entanglements with her parents.
That old nanny even prophesied that a white-haired Demon Hunter would appear and take her away.
And Ciri’s grandmother, Queen Calanthe, would always fly into a rage, shouting, ’That’s impossible, I won’t let it happen!’
So, in conclusion, Geralt completely believed that Ciri kept silent about their relationship out of sheer mischief.
But Ciri also ’accused’ Geralt, saying his attempt to sever their fate with her upset her, making her feel like a heavy burden full of trouble.
But when Lann and Vesemir arrived, their harmless mutual ’accusations’ naturally came to an end.
"So, it seems you’ve reached an agreement?"
Geralt crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and looked at the two walking with their arms around each other’s shoulders.
Lann gave him a ’thumbs up’ signaling ’all settled.’
"Alright, time to go. Old Aisne showed you favor by teleporting us all to the outskirts of the village where the horses are kept."
Geralt and Lann led the way into the village. After settling the bill with the farmer who took care of Radish and Bopai, each horse carried two people, heading toward the far reaches of Brokilon.
The plan was to drop off Vesemir at Brugge, collect the commission, and then return Ciri to Sintra.
Couldn’t let this little girl spark a war between two countries, could they?
But just as they reached the crossroads, Ciri suddenly grabbed Geralt’s hand, which was pulling the reins to turn, frowning and saying, "No, don’t take this path, the other one is better."
Geralt frowned, looking seriously at Ciri.
"What do you feel? How do you know?"
"I just know," she shrugged, her emerald green eyes lowering, looking surprised yet helpless. "But...why? Why do I know?"
Meanwhile, on Bopai’s back, Lann and Vesemir frowned in unison, looking at Ciri.
The child of the ancient bloodline...having a sense in a place she’s never been, knowing whether the path is right, whether the road is safe.
Does this bloodline permanently grant her prophecy spells?
Or is it...that even advanced prophecy spells are just part of this bloodline’s manifestation?
At this moment, Lann somewhat understood why Aisne wanted Ciri to drink the Water of Brok Leon and seize the opportunity to cast spells on her.
Geralt subtly exchanged glances with his mentor and Lann, then took out the Wolf School necklace from his collar.
"Wow!" the little girl exclaimed, mouth agape, "Such a scary wolf, it even has fangs."
As she spoke, her fingers approached the necklace pendant, and before she fully touched it, the necklace started to clink and jingle.
"It moved!" Ciri murmured, "This is magic, isn’t it?"
"Yes, it’s magic. Ciri, you’re leading the way now."