Chapter 303: 303. The Master’s Whereabouts
The balance of Geralt’s bounty was funded by Baron Ham’s territory, and after Eliza marries King Aivelle, the king’s gift money would cover this expenditure.
Having received his due pay, Geralt prepared to continue his career as a Demon Hunter, traveling the continent to take commissions and hunt monsters.
He rode on his horse Carrot through the cold wind, departing from Ham.
Lann, however, showed no intention of parting ways with him.
"What do you want?" Geralt raised his head and tilted his gaze toward the bear cub beside him. "Two Demon Hunters taking jobs together only happens when one is an apprentice. It’s simply not profitable. Although we get along fairly well, don’t expect me to lose money by traveling with you."
Lann was already half a head taller than Geralt, while Bopai was also slightly taller than Carrot.
Overall, now both on horseback, Lann’s shoulder was level with Geralt’s forehead.
"Profit is a minor concern," Lann smiled humbly.
"The main thing is, I have something I want your help with."
Geralt glanced at him: "We’re here to help each other, so tell me."
"Do you know an old Wolf School Demon Hunter named ’Vesemir’?"
The sound of their horses’ hooves pattered as they moved away from the lake at Ham, and the air changed from moist cold to dry cold. While talking, their breath formed white clouds from their mouths.
"Why, do you two have a feud?"
Although Geralt was now aware of the young man’s character, based on hearsay, deeds, and their interactions over a long period, he still felt Lann’s temper... was a bit fiery.
So when Lann mentioned Vesemir, his first thought was—’Is this boy looking for a fight?’
"Vesemir is kind-hearted, if you have a misunderstanding with him, I can be a mediator."
"No, no!" Lann waved his hands promptly to explain, "Where would I have so many grudges? I’ve only been mingling on the continent for a short time. You know me, I’m purely a young kid."
Next, Lann talked to Geralt about his experience learning Demon Hunter alchemy under Belengar and exhibiting extraordinary talent.
"Belengar suggested I go to the Wolf School’s castle—Ker Morhan to learn and inherit the most comprehensive alchemy knowledge of Demon Hunters and, of course, further my incomplete monster and curse knowledge."
Lann tugged on the reins to let Bopai avoid the muddy patch on the road.
"He said the one who can make decisions at Ker Morhan is Vesemir. Once you convince him, whether it’s studying or catch-up lessons, everything is okay."
Geralt shifted his position on the saddle to relieve the awkward posture.
"Belengar? I don’t recognize that name; it seems he’s been away from the school and the profession for quite some time. But what he said is correct, if Vesemir agrees to something, then it’s a decision from the Wolf School. Do you know where he is now? During winter, he generally retires back to Ker Morhan to hole up until spring before heading south for work. Right now..."
What Geralt implied was that the Grandmaster of the Wolf School Demon Hunters is probably holed up in the castle at the moment.
If you wish to go to the castle, you first need the Grandmaster’s consent. But if you reverse the order, it’ll no longer be seeking knowledge but an unwelcomed guest arriving.
The nature of it would be different.
"Don’t worry, Geralt."
Lann waved his hand atop the horse.
"I have accurate information; your school’s Grandmaster is not far from us, he’s at neighboring Brugge, being employed by King Venceslav. A Demon Hunter who picked up a major task won’t have time to hole up for winter."
Geralt nodded after hearing that—this situation wasn’t out of the ordinary, quite the opposite, this happened quite frequently.
As the Winter Solstice approaches, it would be one of the times when Chaos Magic Power is most active throughout the year. Curses, magic, and monsters... as the day draws nearer, their activity would intensify.
Demon Hunters temporarily tied up, unable to break free from these matters, is quite normal.
What made him feel unusual was something else...
"You have ’accurate information’? You, such a young Demon Hunter?"
The young man smiled without speaking, making the old Demon Hunter feel a sudden chill down his spine, perceiving the young man as unfathomable.
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To find a Demon Hunter employed by a king, you must first go to the central city of Brugge, which is Brugge City.
In the Northern Countries, a relatively fragmented nation, its central city is naturally incomparable to Vizima.
Here gave Lann the feeling of a large, permanent rural market.
The dirt roads, when met with rain, turned into mud pits; horse dung, firewood, and various livestock excretions gave this place the aroma of ’life’s fireworks.’
Only the distant palace seemed splendid and aesthetically pleasing.
Before entering the city gate, the two Demon Hunters were stopped by a young man wearing a tight leather outfit suitable for movement, with a felt hat on his head.
"Hello, gentlemen."
The young man appeared a bit tired but still skillfully began welcoming them for business.
Lann and Geralt exchanged a look and politely responded to him.
"Hello to you too, sir."
It seemed like, although young, he should have been slogging through the profession for quite some time.
"Are you Lann from Sintra? There’s a letter for you."
Lann leaned over from the horse to receive the letter handed over by the young man, which bore the seal of Airetusa.
This was a messenger from the Academy.
"You’ve been waiting for a while, haven’t you? Thank you."
As Lann pocketed the letter into the alchemy pouch at his back, he flicked a Silver Coin to him.
The young man gladly caught it immediately, then removed the felt hat from his head and held it against his chest, "Thank you, kind sir."
Saying so, he dashed off.
Currently, magic communication was still an expensive and unstable method, so the profession of messengers, even within the Airetusa Academy cultivating casters, was irreplaceable.
"I suggest you check the academy’s letter now; if Vesemir has already left the city, I wouldn’t want to be skinned again for city entry tax."
Geralt said while reining in the horse.
Two letters were delivered, one clearly from the well-maintained academy, while the other envelope was smeared with black coal dust.
Lann nonchalantly nodded and opened the academy’s letter.
The sound of flipping pages "swish, swish" arose as Lann quickly skimmed through the cursive emotional poems written by Margaret on the first few pages.
In the letter era, people never hesitated to attach their intense emotions to words, but for someone from Lann’s information-centric age, while he could sense the intensity of feelings, more often it was... awkward.
He was not accustomed to it.
He swiftly flipped to the end, noting the latest information regarding the Demon Hunter Master—
He was heading toward Brokilon, and judging by the direction, he intended to plunge right in.
"Your reminder was timely, Geralt."
Lann carefully repacked the briefly scanned letter.
"We can save on paying city entry tax once... it’s time to leave, to Brokilon."