441. Buying Allen's Body.

"The person you wanted to ask about just asked about you."

Allen was stunned upon hearing this.

"What do you mean? Who asked—"

"Hmm? Could it be?!"

Allen exchanged a bewildered glance with Vesemir before sharply turning to look at Tissaia de Vries.

Draped in a blue velvet shawl and wearing a long dress with lace-trimmed collar and cuffs, Tissaia adjusted the pristine lace on her sleeves, smiled, and said, "Yes, I just spoke with Ortolan, the leader of the Rissberg Group's civil cooperative organization."

"He seems to be… very interested in you."

Tissaia brushed at the lace on her sleeves, which had been ruffled by the mountain wind blowing in from outside. Then she got up and closed the window.

Bang~

A soft sound.

The large room instantly fell silent.

The scent of cedar and cypress wood swirled around the flickering candlelight on the table, filling the air.

If Mary were here, she might have been able to identify the other mysterious notes in the fragrance.

Allen, however, was too shocked by Tissaia's words to notice the sudden spread of the scent after the window was closed.

"Ortolan is interested in Allen… What does that mean?" Vesemir asked in a dry voice.

"Exactly what it sounds like," Tissaia said with a smile. "Ortolan cast a spell to summon me early in the morning, waking me up. I thought the Wild Hunt had invaded Ban Ard again. But as soon as I opened the projection mirror, he bombarded me with questions about you…"

"What is it, Allen?"

"Are you not only the Holy Son of Melitele but also the chosen one of the Rissberg Group's civil cooperative organization?"

Tissaia de Vries was an exceptional mage, but clearly not a natural comedian.

Both Vesemir and Allen looked grim, not even twitching their lips in response.

A sorcerer obsessed with experiments, inventions, genetics, and human modifications—who idolized Malaspina, Alzur, and Idarran—suddenly showing interest in a witcher he had never met?

That was not a good sign.

Allen took a deep breath, calming the unease in his heart. "Lady Tissaia, what exactly did Grandmaster Ortolan ask?"

"Everything in detail," Tissaia shrugged. "He wanted me to tell him everything I know about you."

"Clearly, I don't know much about you. Otherwise, at this moment, you'd be seeing that rude man in the projection mirror…"

Seeing how uncomfortable the two witchers looked, Tissaia finally realized what it meant for one of the five legendary mages of Chapter of the Gift and the Art to take such an unusual interest in an ordinary person.

Her smile faded slightly as she tapped her long, slender finger lightly on the table.

"Don't worry. Ortolan is just that kind of eccentric. Once he gets curious about something, he'll go to any lengths—crossing several countries, burning through magic gems more precious than gold, using the projection mirror for long-distance contact…"

"I remember at the last decennial Novigrad Sorcerers' Conference, Borhn Drummond, who lives in seclusion in the Dragon Mountain, complained to me…"

"Ortolan contacted him in the middle of the night, setting up a projection mirror, all because of some drunken fool's made-up story about a golden dragon."

"Aside from Hen Gedymdeith, who among us—Borhn Drummond, Narses de la Roche, or myself—hasn't been pestered by him?"

"If it weren't for the fact that he always arranges for the Rissberg Group to reimburse us for the magic costs after these incidents, we'd suspect that he invented the projection mirror just to squeeze our retirement funds."

"Wait…" Vesemir was taken aback. "…Ortolan invented the projection mirror?"

Although Vesemir himself lacked the magic power to use a projection mirror, he had used them plenty of times.

Despite their high production cost, expensive long-distance energy consumption, and steep magic power requirements for users, projection mirrors were standard in most large cities.

Tissaia de Vries seemed pleased by Vesemir's surprise and chuckled. "Are you shocked that he actually invented something useful?"

Vesemir looked slightly embarrassed.

Tissaia smiled. "That's right. Ortolan occasionally produces something worthwhile—like the Youth Elixir, or the projection mirror."

"But while the Youth Elixir aligns with his vision of magical accessibility, the projection mirror consumes too much energy. Even some high-level sorcerers struggle to use it, let alone ordinary people. It doesn't fit his ideology, so it's not as well-known as the Youth Elixir."

"So don't worry," she said warmly to Allen. "You don't need to see Ortolan as some deeply calculating, treacherous, and overwhelmingly powerful sorcerer…"

Tissaia hesitated for a moment.

"Well, alright, Ortolan is eccentric… but more like an old man who enjoys playing around."

Hundreds of years old and still considered a child, huh? Allen was at a loss for words.

But to be fair, the unsettling feeling of being targeted by a predator had mostly dissipated after hearing Tissaia's explanation.

"Besides," Tissaia continued, "who wouldn't be interested in a witcher prodigy who can tame a royal griffin and banish an dark god?"

"So, two days have passed." She winked at Allen. "Have you made up your mind? Will you accept my invitation?"

Allen's smile froze.

He glanced at Vesemir, who was subtly shaking his head, his molten gold beast-like eyes filled with firm disapproval.

After a moment of thought, Allen nodded slightly. "I'm curious about Aretuza as well. However, I still have unfinished contracts here in Ellander, so it might take some time before I can go."

Vesemir immediately frowned but remained silent.

Allen knew Vesemir would likely try to talk him out of it later, but he had his own considerations.

Going to Aretuza did carry risks, just as Vesemir had pointed out.

But based on both the original story and his real-life interactions, Tissaia seemed reliable. Allen also planned to invite Lady Vera to join him, minimizing the potential danger.

Moreover…

They had already deeply offended the Northern Continent's magical forces, nearly crippling Ban Ard's male sorcerer academy.

The Rissberg Group was hostile toward witchers and highly questionable in nature.

The other two grand sorcerers were unreachable—one in Novigrad, the other in deep seclusion in the Wyvern Mountains.

Magic was the strongest and largest supernatural force in the Northern Continent.

He needed to align himself with a faction capable of countering the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, the looming Wild Hunt, and the inevitable White Frost.

Given his existing connection with Vera and a budding camaraderie, Aretuza—the second most powerful sorcerer institution in the North—was the best choice for now.

And not just that.

Since Allen's sorcerer talent had already awakened, he naturally needed to learn some spells to arm himself.

Lady Vera was, of course, the best option—not only was there no need to worry about any secrets being leaked, but she likely wouldn't demand an exorbitant price either.

However, the spells Allen wanted to learn had to be compatible with the witcher system and the Witcher's Journal. Ideally, they could even be simplified into signs that could be taught to ordinary witchers.

With so many restrictions, it was unlikely that Vera would just happen to have everything he needed.

As one of the two major academies on the Northern Continent, Aretuza naturally became the best place for selecting spells. However, whether he could actually learn them and how he would go about it would depend on his own performance.

With so many benefits, and the only cost being a manageable level of risk...

Why not go?

And the advantages didn't stop there…

"No worries. The situation in Ban Ard is still uncertain, so I may not be able to return right away," Tissaia de Vries shook her head, her smile bright. "As for curiosity, Aretuza is a beautiful place. Compared to Ban Ard, it will surely satisfy all of your curiosity."

"Then I'll look forward to it." Allen returned a smile full of anticipation.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he returned to the main topic.

"By the way, Lady Tissaia, do you know why Ortolan and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization went to Ban Ard?"

Tissaia de Vries gave him a deep look, making Allen feel a little guilty.

However, in the end, she didn't make an excuse to evade the question, nor did she interrogate him. Instead, she lowered her head in thought for a moment before answering: "Sunny claims that Ortolan and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization are interested in the bodies of the Wild Hunt. They want some samples to aid their research in improving and modifying human subjects."

"And in reality?" Allen caught the hidden implication in her words.

"I asked Ortolan about it this morning," Tissaia de Vries said, "but he changed the subject."

Allen and Vesemir exchanged glances, feeling a tinge of disappointment.

"But..." Tissaia de Vries glanced at the two witchers. "While it's possible that Ortolan and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization are interested in the Wild Hunt—frankly, even I find them fascinating—this doesn't align with their usual conduct."

"Although the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization isn't as large as Ban Ard or Aretuza, it's far wealthier than both of them combined."

"Ortolan has already made a fortune just from youth elixirs alone..."

"When they find an interesting experimental subject, their usual approach isn't to hunt or seize by force. They prefer to pay for it."

Tissaia de Vries paused, then looked up at Allen. "This is another reason why you don't need to worry. Rather than fearing Ortolan plotting against you, you should be more concerned about whether you can resist temptation..."

"What do you mean?" Allen was momentarily stunned.

Tissaia de Vries smiled playfully. "He will offer you a fortune—to buy your time, your body, for his experim—"

"We would never agree to that!" Vesemir's face darkened, and his voice was firm.

"Don't be so absolute," Tissaia de Vries shook her head. "A fortune is truly a fortune. It could even be exchanged for power, magical artifacts, rare weapons, and armor..."

"He could easily make you a knight. A baron? That might be a bit harder. A viscount? Difficult, but not impossible. Even an earl isn't out of the question..."

"Elixirs of longevity, immense power..."

"To be honest, most people reject the idea outright when they first hear it. But very few can hold firm until the end."

Tissaia de Vries gave Vesemir and Allen a meaningful look.

Then, before they could react, she continued, "Of course, it's also possible that Ortolan is simply interested in your experiences. Old men like hearing stories from the young. Or maybe he's just intrigued by how you tamed the royal griffin—who knows?"

"But," she suddenly turned serious and looked directly at Allen, "I sincerely hope you can steel yourself and refuse. Ortolan's methods are always legal, reasonable, and justifiable—but those who fall to the allure of easy wealth always meet a tragic end."

"Without exception."

Allen saw the deep seriousness in Tissaia de Vries's expression, and a trace of confusion flickered in his gaze.

Was she... warning me?

"Thank you," he said in gratitude.

"You are, after all, Vera's disciple," Tissaia de Vries smiled and nodded. "Back to the main topic—Sunny is definitely lying. Ortolan and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization would never take such a huge risk just for a few experimental samples."

Vesemir and Allen exchanged glances, falling into deep thought.

Tissaia de Vries wasn't in a hurry. She snapped her fingers, summoning a bottle of Eastern Spirits. Gazing through the crystal glass etched with intricate patterns, she admired the scenery outside as she leisurely sipped her drink.

Of course, she didn't forget to pour a glass for Allen and Vesemir as well.

The rich, mellow aroma of fine liquor spread through the air.

Gulp~

Allen heard Vesemir swallow, but the old witcher didn't touch the glass in front of him.

"I'm curious about something," Vesemir cleared his throat, his face slightly flushed. "Hen Gedymdeith was captured and imprisoned by Sunny, and you..."

"Why didn't we rescue him?" Tissaia de Vries turned her gaze back to him.

Vesemir nodded.

Tissaia de Vries replied, "The Novigradian Union Treaty has clear stipulations—this is Ban Ard's internal affair. We cannot interfere."

"Then why Ortolan?"

"Ortolan hasn't intervened in Hen Gedymdeith's fate either. His official reason for traveling to Ban Ard is to study the Wild Hunt, while the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization was simply hired for the job."

"So you're just going to leave Hen Gedymdeith to his fate?" Allen couldn't help but ask.

After all, they were all part of the same Chapter of the Gift and the Art. There were only five members in total—were their relationships really this cold?

"Of course, we're not ignoring him," Tissaia de Vries shook her head. "At the year-end Mage Conclave, we will jointly submit a formal proposal on the matter."

Great. No matter the world, there are always bureaucratic procedures like this...

By the time they hold that meeting, Hen Gedymdeith will probably be dead beyond saving.

Allen complained inwardly.

But then he realized that Sunny had likely banked on this bureaucratic red tape, which was why he had dared to take such a bold step.

As if reading his thoughts, Tissaia de Vries sighed and set down her glass. "You may find it absurd, Allen, but every clause in the Novigrad Union Treaty exists for a reason."

"Paid for in blood and fire..."

Allen fell silent at her words.

After a while, he exchanged a look with Vesemir, realizing that neither of them had any more questions. It was time to take their leave.

After all...

Tissaia de Vries could only speculate about the deeper cooperation between Ban Ard, Ortolan, and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization.

But that didn't mean this trip had been meaningless—far from it.

Learning that Sunny was lying and that something suspicious was going on between the two factions was already a major revelation.

Moreover, Allen now had a clearer understanding of Ortolan's personality and the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization's modus operandi. By connecting these insights with what he remembered from his past life's version of events, he was just one step away from piecing everything together.

Boom~

The intricately carved, iron-reinforced ebony door closed softly.

Tissaia de Vries sat at the wooden table, swirling the crystal glass in her hand, her gaze lingering on Allen's empty seat.

After a long while, she let out a faint sigh: "Hen Gedymdeith..."

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

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