78. Allen's Return.

While Vesemir was contemplating life, the scene within the faint red bubble was different from what the witcher masters imagined. Although the sorceress and the leader had their backs to the crowd and had cast a soundproof spell, there was no sound within the bubble—at least, no sound of conversation.

"Drip, drip."

Warm drops of water fell onto the snow, melting small holes into it. The sorceress leaned against a fir tree with her head lowered. Under the cover of clouds, the sky was dim, making it hard to see her expression. The Wolf School leader also had his head lowered, only looking at the sorceress when he heard the sound of tears falling.

"Crunch, crunch."

No matter how soft the footsteps, they couldn't escape the sorceress's notice.

"Don't touch me!" The light voice penetrated through the dark red strands of her hair.

The leader's hand, which was about to rest on her shoulder, paused before retreating. "Vera..."

Upon hearing the familiar voice, using the familiar tone, calling out the familiar nickname, the sorceress jerked her head up as if reacting to a stimulus. Her pale face was streaked with black tear tracks, left by her smudged eyeliner, making her look both disheveled and fierce. She glared at the leader fiercely.

"Don't talk to me about the Child of Miracles again!" she snarled. "It's impossible for Allen to survive an encounter with the Cyclops alone..."

"Vera..." the leader started to explain but was cut off again.

The sorceress, seemingly losing control, yelled curses. Her magic surged with her anger, causing the faint red soundproof bubble to ripple, trembling as if it were a living thing in fear. "I don't know what kind of spell I was under to believe your nonsense... Allen isn't some Child of Miracles; he's just a normal human child..."

"Vera, calm down!" The leader's tone turned serious. The ground quivered slightly, and large patches of snow began to float from the surface. Nature responded to the sorceress's fury.

"I actually believed you demons' lies, letting my child endure such torment... When I retrieve my child's remains, I'll kill that charlatan..."

"Sorceress, are you going to stop me from bringing Allen back now?" The sorceress's eyes turned completely red.

In an instant, the wind howled around her, flames ignited from the void, melting the snow on the ground and in the air. The elemental magic in the atmosphere became her most devoted servant, obeying her every command.

"Pop."

The faint red bubble, disturbed by the intense magic, burst like a real soap bubble.

"Buzz, buzz, buzz."

Simultaneously, all the witchers' medallions hummed wildly, frantically warning their owners. Such intense magical fluctuations could be felt even by a common witcher, let alone with a medallion.

"Clang!" The witcher masters, their hackles raised, instinctively drew their silver swords. "Lady Vera!" they shouted, hoping the sorceress would calm down.

At the same time, they swiftly surrounded the leader and the sorceress. As one of the most powerful sorcerers in the Northern Kingdoms, the sorceress's wrath made them feel like they were facing a legendary dragon. Despite holding the finest weapons crafted over centuries, the witcher masters had no confidence. But they wouldn't retreat either. The Wolf School prided itself on being the true heir to the witcher tradition. Stubbornness was both a strength and a weakness. The witcher masters were the most outstanding and the most stubborn. They were willing to sacrifice their lives to defend the traditions of the witcher order. And one of the most basic and crucial traditions was: the trial of the apprentices must not be interfered with!

Undoubtedly, the sorceress had violated their taboo. Yet, even with six weapons pointed at her, she stared unwaveringly at the leader, waiting for his response. If she was determined, only the leader of the Wolf School was worth her attention here.

The leader's long hair was blown about by the fierce wind. He squinted, his golden cat eyes narrowed into slits, meeting Vera's inhuman pupils. Unlike when the apprentices returned earlier, now the sorceress had taken out the potion, it was safe. But being in this state meant she was determined, even if it meant killing everyone around, she would find Allen.

The leader sighed, extending his right hand to draw his steel sword. "Vera, I still believe Allen isn't dead..."

Seeing no change in her expression, he swallowed the rest of his words. He then focused, holding the sword in the middle.

For a moment, the air seemed to freeze. By the shore of Killer Lake, the tension was palpable. A brawl could break out at any moment. Although Vesemir also held his sword like the other witchers, he genuinely did not want to oppose the sorceress. He couldn't find a reason to. After learning that Allen had "perished" at the hands of the Cyclops, he began to doubt the necessity of the trial and the tradition.

"Sigh." Vesemir sighed. How could Allen die in the Mountain Trial?

He turned his head towards the place where the apprentices' trial took place, the spot where Allen's soul supposedly lay. "Huh?" The next moment, he seemed to see a black dot slowly moving down the snow-covered mountain.

Vesemir rubbed his eyes instinctively. There really was a moving black dot. In this desolate place, who else could that dot be but Allen? "Wait!" "Allen isn't dead; he's coming back!"

Upon hearing this, the sorceress didn't have time to consider if it was true and looked in the direction of the voice. Indeed, there was a black dot slowly approaching Killer Lake along the path where the apprentices' trial ended.

"Snap." With a snap of her fingers, a bronze mirror appeared before everyone. The mirror was entirely white, with no reflection. However, with the trembling of the witcher medallions, the mirror quickly shook. Gradually, a dirty, young face appeared in the pure white, none other than Allen.

"Snap!" With another snap, the black tear stains on the sorceress's face disappeared, and her makeup returned to its pristine state. She then glanced at the tense crowd and shot a look at the leader.

"Ahem." The leader sheathed his sword and coughed lightly. The witchers, awakened from the shock of the apprentice's "resurrection," followed the sound and saw the leader smiling and gesturing. They then looked at the sorceress, who acted as if nothing had happened. After exchanging glances, they silently sheathed their weapons. The tense moment ended, and most of the witcher masters felt a sense of absurdity. "The battle that nearly caused significant casualties started and ended because of a witcher apprentice."

Moments later, as the black dot gradually grew larger, a few witchers began to notice something odd about its shape. Letho turned his head directly and asked, "Vesemir, is Allen carrying something strange?"

...….

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79. The Genius Allen?

80. The Ancient Ritual.

81. Who is Allen?

82. How to Handle the Corpses?

83. The Cold and Ruthless Leader.