479. Reward Settlement! Does the School of the Wolf Understand the Consequences?

A figure stood with their back to the firelight, shrouded in shadow, their appearance and attire completely obscured.

Only a pair of piercing, beast-like sapphire vertical pupils could be clearly seen.

"Who is she?"

"Human or monster?"

"Why did she suddenly appear in front of me?"

The unknown pressure from this mysterious being—and the fact that the figure had appeared just two steps away—completely short-circuited Evenson' brain.

"Screee—!"

Another shrill screech, like that of an eagle, descended from the sky and jolted him back to his senses.

"Clang!"

Under the suffocating aura of the royal griffin, he didn't care whether it was human or demon standing before him. He drew his longsword and swept it forward, trying to drive the intruder back and open a path to escape the monstrous creature above.

The blade gleamed in the firelight, illuminating the dark red leather armor on the figure before him.

"You're…" Evenson suddenly remembered.

The figure's silhouette resembled the "female sorcerer" who had been with the witcher Danthe.

That "female sorcerer" also had a pair of blue eyes...

But why were they vertical pupils?

Some kind of spell?!

Wait!

If the "sorcerer" was here, then where was the witcher?

Weren't they supposed to be at the Rissberg laboratory?

Where were the Rissberg sorcerers? Where was Lord Ronnie Dickinson? Why hadn't they stopped them?

Or had they made some deal behind his back?

A flood of questions surged through Evenson' mind like a storm.

His pupils shrank. He made what he believed to be the most correct decision in that moment.

"Enemy attack!"

He shouted, slicing through his moment of hesitation. Both hands gripped the sword tighter, and he lunged forward with a powerful downward slash.

Spellcasting always had a delay.

If a warrior wanted to defeat or kill a sorcerer, they had to strike during that gap—get close, and strike before they could chant.

He didn't believe the "sorcerer" didn't know that.

But surrounded by heavy guards, she couldn't possibly find another way to strike or hurt him. So she was gambling—gambling that under these circumstances, he would ignore her and give her the time to cast a spell.

But she was wrong!

Before the nearby Shield Guards could react to the threat in the sky and come to his aid—

Evenson pushed himself to full speed, accelerating his charge and swinging with all his might.

He had to act first—before she could complete whatever trick brought her before him—stop her, or even kill her outright.

What would follow with the Aretuza Academy or other sorceress factions… could be dealt with afterward.

If he gave her the chance to cast, he might not live to see the aftermath.

"Whoosh~"

The longsword whistled through the air.

Surprisingly, there was no magical resistance—no barrier—nothing to block it. The blade swept straight toward the "sorceress's" neck.

"Arrogant sorceress!" Evenson shouted excitedly. "I was once a champion knight of the Four Kingdoms Tournament—you dare stand so close to a knight of my—"

"Clang!"

The sword suddenly jerked to a halt with a powerful rebound, nearly wrenching itself from his hands.

His full-force strike—

Had been caught barehanded by the "sorceress."

She had two fingers pinching the blade's tip.

"What kind of nonsense are you yelling?" Allen frowned. "With that level of strength, you dare try to ambush our School of the Wolf?"

Evenson tugged the hilt desperately, but the sword didn't budge an inch—like it was welded between those two fingers.

"Guards—!"

The Shield Guards finally realized someone had attacked their commander and lifted their shields, ready to move between them.

"Whoosh—"

A sudden whirlwind descended from the sky, shaking the Shield Guards where they stood.

Their massive alchemically-lightened shields, normally so sturdy, now became obstacles in the wind, impeding their defense of their superior.

The crushing pressure grew stronger—like a mountain had fallen from the heavens.

And there was… something soft brushing against them, lifting their hair as if some living presence now loomed overhead.

Evenson, facing the elemental aura of the royal griffin, felt his scalp go numb.

Faced with such a high-tier monster, instinct took over. He let go of the sword and tried to flee in terror. But in the next instant—

A cold flash of steel halted him.

Greater fear bloomed beneath his jaw, freezing him in place.

His sword was now in the "sorceress's" hand.

And the tip was pressed against his throat.

Warm liquid trickled down his neck and into his collar.

His blood.

"Lord Evenson!!"

Several Shield Guards cried out. But seeing the blood running down, they dared not move a muscle.

"M-Ma'am," Evenson squeaked, trying to suppress his fear. "Forget the School of the Wolf or the School of the Griffin for a moment…"

"Don't you feel it too?!"

"There's a monster descending from the skies—a griffin, a wyvern, a fork-tailed drake—maybe even a dragon…"

"We can deal with the rest later, after we—"

Evenson couldn't go on.

A massive black silhouette with wings wide as the heavens was slowly descending behind the "sorceress."

The warbeasts of the heavy cavalry unit stationed nearby were already fleeing in panic. The knights under Milo's command couldn't control them—only minimize the damage they caused.

The torches on the ground illuminated the creature's majestic form.

An eagle's hooked beak, a lion's deadly claws, and a blazing red body…

Its wings spread wide, covering nearly the entire square before the tower.

"Gulp—"

Evenson swallowed hard, hands trembling uncontrollably.

He recognized it—that was a royal griffin, a ruler of the skies not inferior to a dragon.

"Boom!"

The ground trembled as the royal griffin landed.

It raised its head high.

"Screee—!"

A terrifying and frenzied cry tore through the night, shaking all of Drakenborg to its core.

"Damn it! Why would a royal griffin, a monster that only appears deep in the mountains, show up here—now?!"

Fear exploded in Evenson' heart. But he didn't dare move an inch, terrified that the monster might notice him. And he wasn't alone.

All the panicked warbeasts, the moment the great creature touched down, dropped to the ground like dead weight—playing dead, as if driven by primal instinct.

The vast square was silent, save for the echoing cries of the royal griffin.

A deathly stillness had descended over Drakenborg.

"Thump… thump…"

As the heavy footsteps of the approaching griffin grew louder, Evenson suddenly became acutely aware of the sword wound on his neck. He glared resentfully at the "sorceress" standing opposite him.

It's over. The griffin must have smelled the blood...

Those damned madwomen from Aretuza—don't they know there's a time and place for their insanity?

Now everyone's going to die...

Evenson didn't move a muscle. Even though despair was welling up inside him, he didn't dare twitch. Then he remembered—behind him were several shield guards, more seriously wounded than himself.

The scent of blood would be even stronger over there.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he vaguely noticed several human silhouettes on the back of the griffin.

"Thud!"

The royal griffin stomped down once more, then suddenly stopped.

What followed left Evenson breathless.

The enormous beast lowered its savage head. From behind the "sorceress," it slowly descended—then settled beside her, affectionately rubbing its mane against her side like a loyal sheepdog greeting its master.

The griffin's head alone was larger than the entire body of the "sorceress."

Its obsidian beak brushed right past Evenson, and the massive golden vertical pupil that hovered inches from his face—along with the putrid stench of the beast's breath—nearly made him believe he was about to be devoured.

"Allen…"

"Captain!"

---------------------------

Seven or eight figures leapt down from the back of the royal griffin.

Evenson, along with the shield guards, heavy cavalry, and sentries around Drakenborg, stood frozen, their minds momentarily blank.

T-The royal griffin… had been tamed?!

It even carried people—like a horse or a mule!

"Didn't I tell you all not to come down?" the "sorceress" spoke up.

Snapped out of his shock, Evenson suddenly noticed something odd about the sorceress's voice.

It was sharp, yes, but more like a boy's than a woman's.

"This isn't just about you and Danthe," said the tallest one among the group, stepping forward. "Where are Danthe and Bond?"

The "sorceress," Allen, lowered the sword and turned around.

"Creak~"

The wooden door of the tower slowly opened.

Danthe emerged, staggering slightly from exhaustion, carrying Bond on his back as he walked toward them.

"Don't move!"

Allen, ignoring whether they could see clearly or not, shook his head at the guards and cavalry who seemed ready to act, raising his voice: "We have no intention of becoming enemies of Drakenborg or Redania…"

"But Drakenborg's administrator, Evenson, in collusion with the young House of Montecalvo, Ronnie Dickinson, Padrek Vasquez, and other sorcerers of the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization, conspired to assassinate witchers of the School of the Wolf."

"They forged a contract about foglets to lure Master Danthe and his three traveling apprentices into the domain of a Leshen. They nearly all died…"

"The Rissberg sorcerers even experimented on the bodies of Wolf School witchers…"

Before Allen could finish, the square before the tower erupted in uproar.

No one doubted his words.

Not only because of the centuries-old reputation of the School of the Wolf—but also because of the wounds covering Bond's body, carried on Danthe's back.

Many guards had heard what the young House said to Evenson earlier. They now realized this group had escaped from the Rissberg laboratory.

And only now did they understand—they had come to rescue captured witchers from the School of the Wolf.

"Damn those vile sorcerers—he's just a kid!"

"I'm from Montecalvo myself. That bastard spawn House is exactly that kind of scum!"

"Evenson, I always—"

"Shut up! You want to die?!"

----------------------------

"Silence!" Milo rode forward on the sturdiest war beast, his face cold as he barked the order.

The square fell instantly silent.

Clearly, Milo held considerable authority here.

"Master Danthe," he said, slowly guiding his mount forward, inching closer to Danthe, "since you've already rescued your companions, I swear I won't stop you from leaving. Why not release Lord Evenson—"

"Stay where you are!"

Allen's sword was once again pressed against Evenson' throat as he coldly interrupted.

"Skreeee—!"

The royal griffin sensed Allen's emotion and let out an enraged cry.

Milo pulled his reins in silence and halted. But at that moment, one of the heavy cavalry, lying on the ground with his mount just three paces from Danthe, made a sudden move.

The war beast suddenly sprang up, lunging at Danthe.

"Aaagh—!"

A scream tore through the air. The charging cavalryman froze, yanking his reins to stop.

"I said—stay back!"

Allen pressed his bloodstained sword back against Evenson' neck.

"Don't move! Don't move!"

Evenson clutched his bleeding right wrist, screaming in pain, sweat pouring from his brow.

His severed hand hit the ground, still twitching slightly.

The shield guards beside Evenson instinctively stirred, but Allen's glare froze them in place.

Milo looked at the hand, then at Danthe, who was slowly retreating with Bond on his back. He didn't dare move until both groups had fully regrouped.

"It's good you're back… good to have you back…" Vesemir forced a smile at Danthe. Then, with the help of the younger witchers, he lifted Bond and Danthe onto the back of the royal griffin.

Vesemir's gaze lingered on Bond's pale, mangled body—covered in punctures and surgical cuts. His golden eyes narrowed, lips tightly pressed, hands quietly clenching into fists.

"Now that… now that your people are all here, c-can I leave now?" Evenson, still clutching his bleeding stump, timidly stepped back and forced a nervous smile.

But before he could finish speaking—

Vesemir appeared before him in a blink. His left hand flashed through a rapid gesture and then seized Evenson' severed wrist.

"AAAH—!"

Another piercing scream rang out, followed by the smell of burning flesh.

"We still have many questions for you," Vesemir's dark golden feline eyes lingered coldly on Evenson' face, then turned to Allen. "He's a regular human—don't forget to stop the bleeding."

Then—

Vesemir, clearly annoyed by Evenson' screaming, pressed his index and middle fingers together and swiftly traced an inverted triangle in the air.

Axii Sign.

A silver flash of light entered Evenson' forehead.

The administrator of Drakenborg, now one-handed, instantly quieted down and obediently climbed onto the griffin.

"Does the School of the Wolf understand the consequences?"

Before the griffin took off, Milo rode over on his beast and stared coldly at Allen.

Allen hadn't spoken yet—

Danthe and Vesemir stepped forward almost in unison, standing in front of Allen.

"Of course," Danthe said in a frosty tone. "We've never understood the consequences of our actions more clearly than we do now."

Sitting atop his war beast, Milo looked at the dazed Evenson for a few seconds, then said solemnly, "I'll report everything that happened in Drakenborg to the king—truthfully."

"…Thank you." Danthe blinked, surprised for a moment, then gave a gentle nod.

"Screee~"

With a mighty cry, the royal griffin beat its wings and soared into the sky.

Standing on its back, Allen turned his head to look down at Drakenborg, the colossal prison.

For some reason, he had a strong feeling—

That he would return here again one day.

The sun rose slowly above the horizon.

Ding!

[Monster group 'Ronnie Dickinson', 'sorcerer'—Defeated!]

[Reward Settled: …]

"Ronnie Dickinson?"

Allen stared at the blood-red skyline, momentarily stunned.

...

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