439. Ortolan.

The situation with Ban Ard still required careful planning.

After all, the involvement of the Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative was no small matter.

That being said, while their interference—along with Grandmaster Ortolan's—added uncertainty, it also filled the void left by Hen Gedymdeith. This meant that Ban Ard wouldn't collapse immediately under the harassment of small-scale Wild Hunt incursions.

In a sense, that was actually a good thing.

"Are you really okay?" Vesemir withdrew his gaze from Nenneke's fading figure at the end of the path and looked at Allen with concern. "I mean… your condition just now."

"I'm fine," Allen shook his head, then hesitated for a few seconds before asking, "Can you describe everything unusual that happened just now, from beginning to end?"

"Of course."

Vesemir agreed readily.

After a moment of silent recollection, he described everything in detail—the dark god's oppressive aura, the dust stirred in the air, the vibrant green primordial magic…

Allen's expression kept shifting.

The entire incident hadn't lasted long—less than five minutes. If Vesemir and Nenneke had arrived just a little earlier…

Or a little later…

If it had been earlier, Allen could have greeted the two of them and then used the '@#￥%& element'.

If it had been later, neither Vesemir nor Nenneke would have even had a chance to witness the anomaly.

They wouldn't have seen anything.

Soon, Vesemir finished his account. But seeing the uncertain look on Allen's face, his concern deepened.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "What kind of alchemical experiment were you conducting?"

Swallowing a relic of an dark god… using myself as an experiment…

There was no way Allen could say that out loud.

"I'm fine. Look, I'm standing here, aren't I?" He smiled. "As for the experiment… to be honest, I don't know the exact effects yet. I'll need to test it further myself first."

Seeing that Vesemir's worry hadn't faded, Allen thought for a moment before adding, "Don't worry, it's indeed related to that big-eyed dark god, but I promise it's safe."

"I just don't know the exact effects yet, which is why I asked about the details earlier—to compare and analyze."

Vesemir hesitated, then nodded half-believingly.

Vesemir was always easy to reassure. They had spent so much time together by now, and he had already witnessed plenty of insane things Allen had done.

A brief pressure wave from an dark god?

Allen had literally summoned the goddess Melitele herself before.

Besides, from Vesemir's perspective, Allen was already an independent Witcher, and a master at that—his equal.

Showing too much concern could even be seen as disrespectful.

More importantly…

Everything from the past had proven Allen's maturity and careful thinking.

Even the Archpriestess of the Melitele Temple was willing to listen to him.

What was there to worry about?

So, Vesemir didn't press the matter further and instead shifted the topic to the situation in Ban Ard.

"The kings will likely observe for a while," Allen mused. "Sunny is acting too hastily. He's already exposed his weakness. Everyone can see that he wants to replace Hen Gedymdeith."

"You don't think Sunny will leave Ban Ard with his people?" Vesemir adjusted the brim of his wide hat.

"Not unless he absolutely has to," Allen replied cautiously. "As Nenneke just said, the Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative is only offering Ban Ard a temporary stay…"

"And besides, the Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative is a loose organization, right?"

Allen looked at Vesemir for confirmation.

"That's right," Vesemir nodded. "At the end of the day, the Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative is just a few merchant guilds joined together."

"The only difference from regular merchant guilds is that their leaders are sorcerers, and their goods are mostly magical items—artifacts, potions, materials, mutated creatures, and other magic-related products."

"But in terms of influence, they aren't as powerful as Ban Ard, Aretuza, or the various Druid Circles under the Brotherhood of Sorcerers and the Northern Continent's governing bodies."

Allen nodded. "Then do you think Sunny would be willing to give up his power in Kaedwen?"

"Definitely not." Vesemir shook his head firmly.

"That's exactly the issue," Allen frowned slightly. "The kings and nobles know this, Sunny himself knows this, and the Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative knows it too…"

"But the kings and nobles need Sunny to rally the warlocks of the Sorcerers Academy to guard Ban Ard, to serve as the wall of the Northern Continent."

"Sunny might be trying to use the renewed threat of the Wild Hunt to shift attention away from Hen Gedymdeith's disappearance."

"But what about the Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative—or more precisely, that legendary mage, Ortolan? What does he want?"

"Could it really be just a matter of brotherhood loyalty, standing together because they are both part of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers?"

Vesemir scoffed, cutting in, "Brotherhood loyalty? The Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative isn't that kind of organization. They're even more profit-driven than dwarven bankers."

"Besides, there are rumors that Ortolan and Hen Gedymdeith had ideological disagreements."

"I don't know exactly what their differences were, but if their relationship was truly good, Ortolan should be standing with the kings and nobles, demanding to know Hen Gedymdeith's whereabouts."

Disagreements…

A flash of insight struck Allen—he felt like he had caught onto something crucial.

If Ortolan and Hen Gedymdeith had fundamental differences, then how did Sunny, a member of Ban Ard, end up collaborating with the Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative?

Ortolan had even disregarded the authority of the Northern Kingdoms' kings and great nobles, openly sheltering them.

"Does Ortolan have any connections with Sunny?" Allen asked.

Vesemir's hand paused on the brim of his hat. He thought for a moment but remained uncertain. "I haven't heard of any connections…"

"Sunny is the Vice Dean of the Sorcerer Academy and has spent years in Ban Ard. The Rissberg Group Civil Cooperative operates on the border of Temeria and Cidaris. They're on opposite ends of the Northern Continent, practically worlds apart…"

"What about the Council of Wizards?" Allen pressed. "I heard that they hold various councils every year. Wouldn't Sunny and Ortolan have had the opportunity to meet during those gatherings?"

Vesemir shook his head. "Unlikely. The so-called 'council' is just a name—there's no actual fixed location for it in the Northern Continent. It's usually held at the Ban Ard Academy every year."

"Hen Gedymdeith often presided over those meetings, but even I know that Ortolan hasn't been to Ban Ard in a long time."

"The rumors of Hen Gedymdeith and Ortolan having ideological conflicts started precisely because Ortolan stopped attending those meetings."

Vesemir paused for a moment before continuing:"Of course, this is just a rumor."

"Sorcerers are a rather laid-back group. Hen Gedymdeith and Ortolan are both much older than the current head of the Council of Wizards."

"Perhaps Hen Gedymdeith only attended the council meetings because they were held in Ban Ard, so he had no choice."

"As for Ortolan, maybe he just found the journey too long and couldn't be bothered."

"At their age and status, no one can really force them to do anything."

Vesemir glanced around, lowering his voice: "I've heard—just heard, mind you—that aside from Tissaia de Vries, who attends every year to advocate for female sorcerers, the other two members of Chapter of the Gift and the Art, Narses de la Roche and Borhn Drummond, rarely visit Ban Ard either."

"Supposedly, they only make an appearance once every ten years, when the grand assembly gathers all sorcerers, druids, and representatives of the ruling powers."

Allen curiously asked, "Then have there ever been rumors of Narcisse de La Roche or Borhn Drummond having conflicts with Hen Gedymdeith?"

Vesemir frowned. "Not that I know of…"

Then it's highly likely that Ortolan truly had some disagreements with Hen Gedymdeith… Allen thought to himself.

From his past life reading novels, he had some understanding of Ortolan's character.

In truth, the books never described Ortolan as being in conflict with Hen Gedymdeith specifically—but rather with the Brotherhood of Sorcerers as a whole.

Unlike most mages, Ortolan devoted his life to making magic accessible to the masses. He believed that the conveniences brought by supernatural power should be shared with ordinary people to advance society as a whole. To achieve this goal, he came up with many inventions.

Although some of his ideas were revolutionary, they were difficult to implement on a large scale. Many of his creations were either too costly or impractical, never progressing beyond the prototype stage.

Yet, instead of discouraging him, these failures only fueled Ortolan's determination—though the results never truly changed.

After repeated setbacks, Ortolan began to suspect that members of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers were deliberately sabotaging him—either out of jealousy or because they preferred to keep magic under the control of an elite few (male and female sorcerers themselves), rather than making it widely available.

And honestly, that wouldn't be surprising.

There are always those who seek to be superior to others, using various restrictions to set themselves apart.

In fact, the radical faction led by Sunny was exactly this type—preaching that sorcerers were superior to ordinary humans and that they should use the power of magic to guide mankind.

Yet, for some reason, these two seemingly contradictory ideologies—Sunny's elitism and Ortolan's push for magical accessibility—had somehow converged in this world.

That said, while Ortolan's advocacy for widespread magic use might sound like a noble ideological awakening, he wasn't really a good person at heart.

Although he dedicated himself to inventing tools to benefit humanity, his definition of "humanity" was rather broad and selective.

In reality, Ortolan and his faction's research into biological modifications had created numerous abominations that roamed the world, causing the deaths of many innocent civilians.

To Ortolan, however, these common folk were merely acceptable losses, necessary sacrifices for the future of humanity.

A mad scientist, through and through—that was Allen's evaluation of him.

Of course, all of that would happen a hundred years from now, in the events of the books.

What Ortolan was like now, Allen had no idea.

"For us of the Wolf School, our stance on Ban Ard aligns closely with that of the kings and nobles of the Northern Realms," Allen analyzed. "We all want a powerful force strong enough to hold back the Wild Hunt."

"However…"

"Being much closer to Ban Ard than most other factions, the Wolf School needs that fortress even more than they do."

Vesemir, ever the honest one, adjusted his brown wide-brimmed hat uneasily at Allen's repeated mention of the Wolf School and asked, "Shouldn't we also consider the Temple of Melitele?"

But Allen wasn't actually thinking about the Wolf School's position in this matter.

The Wolf School's stance didn't carry much weight—nobody would listen to them… well, except for the Temple of Melitele.

What Allen was truly considering was the official stance the Temple would take—its public statement.

Using the authority of the Temple to justify the interests of the Wolf School… that didn't feel right.

Vesemir hesitated before saying, "But Archpriestess Ianna trusts you so much… shouldn't you—"

"No need," Allen shook his head. "Since Mother Ianna entrusted this decision to me, she clearly believes that the Temple's interests are not in conflict with those of the Wolf School."

"Besides, the Temple of Melitele has nothing to worry about in this matter."

As a Witcher who had personally met the goddess Melitele, no one understood the Temple's true mission better than Allen.

Solving the White Frost was the Temple's ultimate goal, and according to Melitele herself, Allen was the key to that solution. So, his priorities were the Temple's priorities.

In a way, Ianna's decision truly reflected her status as the Archpriestess of Melitele.

That being said—

Melitele was Melitele, and the Temple was the Temple—there was a significant difference between the two.

And because of that—

Allen deeply appreciated the favor Ianna had extended to him.

"Still, you should be careful," Vesemir reminded him.

Allen nodded. "Don't worry, I understand."

After those words were spoken, silence filled the small cabin.

Both Witchers were lost in thought, considering the possible consequences of the Riesberg Group Civil Cooperative Organization's unexpected involvement.

Allen pondered whether Ortolan, given his obsession with human modification, might have an interest in the body of the Source, Hen Gedimiddis…

Or perhaps Ortolan was coveting Ban Ard's wealth, and Sunny might have offered him a fortune in gold, rare magical materials, or some other treasures…

"Too little information," Allen shook his head, then suddenly had a flash of insight.

Wait…

Information!

Wasn't Ellander the perfect person to ask for inside knowledge?

"Is Lady Tissaia still at the temple?" Allen turned to Vesemir.

"I'm not sure," Vesemir shook his head. "She's not staying at the temple. It seems the old duke has been hosting her. Are you thinking of questioning her?"

He frowned. "Tissaia de Vries is not a bad person, but it's best if you keep your distance from her."

"I just want to ask a few questions, that's all." Allen replied.

Vesemir nodded. He glanced out the window at the darkening night and didn't press the issue further. "That'll have to wait until tomorrow, then. I'll go with you—"

Before he could finish, the distant sound of shouting and playful scuffles interrupted him.

It seemed Erni and the others had returned.

"Tomorrow, I'll go with you. Get some rest. I'll go check on those unruly brats." Vesemir stood up to leave.

Allen nodded and got up to see him off.

"Bang~"

The wooden door closed gently.

Outside, the sudden chorus of scoldings and complaints echoed through the night, making Allen smirk slightly. He stopped thinking about the mess at Ban Ard for now.

Instead, he simply listened for a while to the friendly banter between the Witcher master and the younger Witchers.

Once they had all returned to their rooms and silence finally settled over the cabin…

Allen let out a deep sigh, then opened his Witcher's Journal.

.................

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