The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes

"A few days ago, I was discussing with Arthur about visiting the temple to see you, but Lady Nenneke refused..."

Sara led the way ahead, toward a slightly larger thatched hut at the far end of the village.

It was likely the home of the village chief, Allen guessed.

In the not too large village, every thatched hut had Monster Hunt Regiment soldiers who had finished their breakfast, walking out in pairs and groups.

There were many familiar faces, but also a lot of new ones.

The familiar faces recognized him as well.

However, since Sara was in the lead, they didn't approach him. They simply stopped, chatted casually, nodded at him, and gave a salute.

The new faces whispered to each other, and after receiving answers from the familiar ones, many of the younger recruits excitedly tried to approach. They were quickly hushed by their senior comrades, who quietly gestured for them to stop and salute as well.

This was the first time Allen had encountered such a situation, and he awkwardly nodded in return.

'Feels good', he thought.

Respect from warriors was a true honor, especially when those warriors themselves were deserving of that respect.

Monster Hunt Regiment soldiers who risked their lives to eliminate monsters for the people of Ellander were certainly worthy of the title 'respectable'.

"The Monster Hunt Regiment has brought in a lot of new blood, all coming because of your reputation."

Sara noticed the growing commotion around them and, seeing Allen's somewhat flustered look, chuckled.

"The Monster Hunt Regiment was originally part of Duke Mason's personal guard, and it's only been established for five years. It was created after the last remnants of the rebel forces from the Falka rebellion were eliminated, and the widespread deaths from war and plague left Ellander plagued by monsters."

"In the past, our soldiers came from the personal guard, not out of preference, but necessity. We needed experienced warriors, and we had no choice."

"Even though Duke Mason raised the bounty and pension for us, very few strong men volunteered to join the Witcher Corps. We could only recruit veterans from the personal guard who had long trusted the old Duke and survived the wars."

Sara sighed, seemingly reminiscing about the past.

"No one wanted to face monsters with gaping maws, stinking of death, not knowing when they'd be torn to pieces... Sorry, I don't mean to offend the Witchers..."

"It's fine," Allen waved his hand, curiously asking, "Then how did you end up joining the Monster Hunt Regiment?"

Sara's breastplate bore a family crest, and unlike Allen's, which simply had the symbol of a wolf's head, his was more elaborate—a blue shield embroidered with white irises, a bloodied blade, and a lion, surrounded by a curtain-like design.

Usually, descendants inherit their father's crest, adding such a "curtain" motif, so Sara was not a first-generation knight.

From the White Iris, it seemed Sara even had royal Temerian blood, though it was from many generations ago. This indicated Sara's noble lineage.

And the leader of the Monster Hunt Regiments was no easy job, just as he had said: "No one wants to do it."

Sara fell silent for a few seconds, then took a deep breath: "No particular reason. When I fulfilled my family's duty and accompanied the old Duke to the Falka campaign, my father, mother, and two younger sisters were killed by monsters' claws and fangs."

"I'm sorry," Allen said.

"It's fine," Sara shook his head. "They were just a group of roaming ghouls. I've avenged them."

"And back then in Temeria, many had lost family to monsters."

"Most people in the Monster Hunt Regiments have similar stories."

"Of course, that was in the past."

Sara's tone shifted, and he smiled brightly again:"After the Monster Hunt Regiments was established, such tragic incidents have become much rarer, and recruitment has been getting more difficult."

"Who would have thought that one day, the Monster Hunt Regiments would have so many applicants, we'd have to raise recruitment standards several times within a month?"

"Also..."

He paused, glancing at Allen:

"Because of your necrophage oil, the Monster Hunt Regiments hasn't had a casualty for over a month."

The two of them chatted for a while, and the unfamiliar tension between them gradually faded.

Before long, Allen followed Sara to the largest courtyard in Moën Village. Then, Sara suddenly stopped just outside a hastily arranged wooden fence.

He seemed hesitant, as if he wanted to say something.

"What's wrong?" Allen asked.

"There's something I've been wanting to say for a long time," Sara took a deep breath, turned around, and looked at Allen seriously. "Thank you, Allen. Not just for me, but for the entire Monster Hunt Regiments."

"No need to thank me," Allen smiled. "The necrophage oil is also a way for me to earn money, and the Monster Hunt Regiments is my biggest customer."

Sara paused, then burst out laughing: "Then let's make a lot of money!"

"Duke Mason may not have much else, but he certainly has money!"

"Among all the kingdoms in the North, only a few kings could match Duke Mason's wealth... Hmm... Maybe even Demavend II from Aedirn doesn't have as much as Duke Mason."

"Not possible!" A loud, angry voice from inside the hut interrupted their conversation.

Allen recognized it as Vesemir's voice.

Who was Vesemir arguing with, to be so worked up that he didn't even hear them approaching? He looked at Sara, puzzled.

"Let's go inside first," Sara sighed, walking into the courtyard.

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

Inside the hut, there was a long table with nine people seated.

Eight Witchers from the Wolf School and one human knight.

The human knight was glaring angrily at Master Vesemir, with a brown ceramic wine cup in his hand that seemed to have cracked from the pressure.

Erni and the other seven Witchers were quietly holding bowls of steaming meat soup, nervously watching as Vesemir and Arthur faced off.

When Allen pushed the door open and entered, this was the scene he found.

The atmosphere inside the hut was frozen, and none of the nine noticed Sara and Allen entering.

"What happened? Did you run into a troublesome large monster?" Allen spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.

"Sir Allen!"

"Allen!"

"Commander!"

Inside the thatched cottage, there was a chorus of surprised exclamations.

Allen noticed that the seven Witchers seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, as if they had found a savior.

What was so serious?

"What's going on? Could it be that the Mahakham Mountains east of Moën village are hiding a dragon?" Allen joked. "Did you all get into a dispute over the dragon's hoard?"

"Don't joke around, Sir Allen," Arthur gave a bitter smile, rising to greet him. "I'm glad you're recovered. A few days ago, I was discussing with Arthur about visiting the temple to see you, but Lady Nenneke refused."

"Thank you," Allen found an empty seat and sat down. "I heard from Sir Sara that it's just a minor injury. There's no need for all this fuss."

With Allen's arrival, the atmosphere inside the cottage became a bit lighter.

He then turned his head to look at Vesemir. "What have I missed these past few days? Is there really a dragon in the mountains?"

"Things are worse than a dragon in the mountains..." Vesemir rolled his eyes, then sighed.

"What do you mean?" Allen looked at him in confusion.

"It's a monster nest," Arthur answered for Vesemir.

"That wouldn't explain all the arguing," Allen said, puzzled. "I could hear your bickering from the village entrance."

Arthur sighed. "It's not one monster nest, but three—at least three ghoul nests, hidden deep in the mountains east of Moën village."

"What!"

Allen jumped up in shock, eyes wide, staring at Vesemir.

Vesemir nodded solemnly.

A monster nest isn't just any nest where creatures live. Griffins have griffin nests, ogres have ogre camps, and dragons usually reside in dragon caves... but a monster nest is different.

This term refers to a specific type of nest, dating back to the ancient Elven language, meaning "a nest that creates monsters."

Yes.

A monster nest is itself a monster, similar to the "Zerg Hives" in some fictional works, but most of the creatures it spawns are ghouls—ghouls, grave ghouls, rot fiends, and so on.

This concept had appeared in the previous game's setting, though Allen never heard Vesemir mention it in his lectures.

No one knew how monster nests came to be; they always seemed to appear without warning.

It wasn't until nearby villages were attacked, and Witchers went on the hunt, that they were discovered. Often, these nests are found in desolate, deep forests or in fields that were once cultivated by humans.

Some priests believe that monster nests are the result of a convergence of celestial bodies, where two worlds' divine essences gave birth to a monstrous spawn.

Wizards, however, don't believe the nests have anything to do with celestial events or divine beings. They think that monster nests are a byproduct of the world's magic cycle, where harmful impurities are expelled during the process.

Aen Seidhe agrees with the wizards' view.

Since the world's magical cycle is the foundation of the Elves' philosophy, it's fair to say that the research of wizards on monster nests actually originates from Elven lore.

Of course, whether it's priests, wizards, or Elves, they all agree on one thing—monster nests are extremely dangerous.

The reality is much different from games. A monster nest isn't just a spawn point for a few creatures. In reality, a single nest can produce an endless army of monsters as long as there are flesh and bones.

And with the passage of time, it might start producing only ghouls and rot fiends, but eventually, it could spawn a cunning grave ghoul or other special monsters adapted to the environment.

For a long time, after the first humans landed on the Northern Continent during the "Initial Landing," the monster swarms generated from monster nests were a nightmare for every human settlement.

Vesemir had mentioned that the topic of monster nests hadn't appeared on the Wolf School's dinner table for many years.

This meant the Witchers of the Wolf School hadn't encountered a monster nest in years.

Now, suddenly, there were three...

Allen inhaled sharply, cautiously asking Vesemir, "If I remember correctly, aren't most monster nests prone to infighting, using each other as sustenance?"

"That's right," Vesemir nodded slowly. "In general, that's how it works..."

"In general? Is this situation not general?"

"It's far from general..." Vesemir took a sip from his ceramic cup. "The monster nests in the Mahakham Mountains are even protecting each other, staying alert and providing support, almost like..."

"A group of barons with close ties and strategic marriages, defending their lands against outsiders," Sara interjected, making an analogy.

Allen frowned.

"Your soup," a middle-aged woman entered the room from the inner chamber, bringing a bowl of hot soup with basil leaves and meatballs, along with a basket of bread slices.

"Thank you," Allen murmured.

The woman smiled kindly before returning to the back room.

Her natural demeanor made Allen pause for a moment. She wasn't intimidated by the Witchers or noblemen like the soldiers.

"She's the mother of a team leader from the Monster Hunt Regiment." Sara explained, noticing Allen's glance. He seemed to remember something and lowered his voice. "A team leader who sacrificed during the May Day festival."

Hearing this, Allen froze for a moment, his hand halting as he reached for the bread. After a few seconds, he silently took two bites of the soft bread, nodding.

"I have a question," Allen continued, swallowing some bread with his soup. "With so many monster nests, even if we don't talk about the ghouls, the daily consumption must require a lot of... well... flesh."

"Where is all this flesh coming from?"

Sara and Arthur exchanged glances, then Sara sighed and said, "It's from the graves. Old graves and new ones..."

"The new graves are from the village cemeteries nearby. The graves of the recently deceased have been dug up by ghouls. We've been tracking those traces with Vesemir's help."

"The old graves are near Moën village. Many bodies from the Fall of Falka and the Black Plague were buried here."

"The Fall of Falka and the Black Plague?" Allen set down his bowl. "That was four or five years ago, right? Those bodies should have long turned to bones."

"And if I remember correctly, weren't the graves from the Fall of Falka and the Black Plague located just outside the gates of Ellander?"

"Those are the resting places of the dead of Ellander," Arthur's expression darkened. "The graves here are from the capital, Vizima. Most of the bodies are from commoners and passing merchants."

"As for why the bodies haven't turned to bones, I don't know. Maybe too many bodies piled together?"

"Didn't they cremate them?"

"They did, but there were too many bodies. At the time, there was the Black Plague, and no one dared to follow the rules and cremate each one individually, so..." Arthur shook his head.

"How many bodies in total?"

"Vizima, plus several nearby cities and villages, at least five or six thousand."

Allen fell silent.

Five or six thousand bodies, transformed into ghouls—how many would be created?

Before coming here, he never expected to hear such a half-good, half-bad piece of news.

The good news: there would be more than enough ghouls, plenty to gain experience orbs from.

The bad news: there were just too many ghouls, and three monster nests were working together to produce them.

Thinking this over, the delicious soup seemed to lose some of its flavor.

If this wasn't handled properly, it could turn into a disaster even worse than the May Day wraith tide!

.....

📢Advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

For advance chapters: [email protected]/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)

1. 30 advanced chapters of American Comics: Multiverse of Madness.

2. 30 advanced chapters of Warhammer, but Emperor's Chosen.

3. 20 advanced chapters of The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes.