Sacred Grove… Master Kanu… the Golden-Haired Beast…
If the sacred Mayena had not shown that strange reaction earlier, Allen might have let the conversation pass by without taking it to heart.
But that mysterious woodland had only just reappeared before the witcher's eyes.
Even without deep thought, he could already judge that the mysterious woodland was most likely the Sacred Grove spoken of by the druids.
Yes!
When he ingested the "Leshen's Essence," entered that mysterious woodland, and crossed the banyan aerial roots that formed a forest of their own, what stopped him from reaching the Nameless Lake was a beautiful and majestic reindeer, its huge antlers dark like ebony.
That must have been the Reindeer Sage spoken of by Ida Emean and the druids.
Before he fell into the lake and left the Sacred Grove, the reflection upon its surface had indeed been the form of the golden-furred giant beast of King Kanu…
And under the questioning of the great reindeer by the lakeside, he had blurted out the word "Kanu" in confusion.
The disturbance of sacred Mayena, the Grand Master's sudden Life Praise, Master Kanu, the Golden-Haired Beast… all these seemingly unrelated matters suddenly connected.
However…
"Because of that last accidental 'Kanu,' the druids mistaking me for some great druid named Kanu is understandable," Allen wondered, "but why are they actually searching for King Kanu?"
"King Kanu is a beast from the wild world of the one-eyed fiend spirits. How could it appear in the witcher world?"
Thoughts churned in Allen's mind.
Zebi Ortega and Ida Emean had finished their greetings. The old yet gentle gaze fell upon the witcher.
Allen instantly pushed aside his tangled thoughts, calming his breath and mind.
"You are the witcher who wishes to understand the druidic path?"
Zebi Ortega examined him with interest. "Mother Nature does not care whether her servants are commoners, nobles, humans or elves. Even a butcher who slaughters animals every day can worship Mother Nature, for she is the mother of all living things."
"But I must say, although a witcher's work is truly great and genuinely protects humans, killing is ultimately contrary to the guardianship upheld by the natural path."
"I have known quite a number of witcher friends—of the Wolf School, the Griffin School, even the Bear School. When I was young, I also dreamed of sharing Mother Nature's tranquility and gentleness with them…"
"But without exception, all failed."
"I have never seen a witcher whose heart leaned toward nature…"
"Vesemir—if I remember correctly, he is also a witcher of the Wolf School?"
Allen nodded. "Vesemir is a master witcher of the Wolf School."
"A master now…" Zebi Ortega sighed softly. "I remember that when I tried to share the path, he disliked it so much he left the camp that very night. Of course, I was rather extreme at the time…"
"So, Allen—may I call you that?"
"Of course, Master Zebi Ortega," Allen replied quickly.
"Allen," Zebi Ortega stroked the gray beard on his chin, "can you tell me why you are interested in the druidic path?"
Here it comes… Allen knew it. Even with a prestigious introducer, attempting to apprentice under a Great Druid was no simple matter.
"I encountered some problems—quite difficult ones," Allen said sincerely, choosing his words carefully. "Intuition tells me that the answer to resolving them may lie upon the natural path of the druids…"
As soon as he finished speaking—
The boundary between the inner and outer rings of the Mayena Druid Circle suddenly fell silent.
The elderly half-elf druid, leaning on a staff with a crow-bone head and an oak shaft, stared at the witcher without speaking.
The surrounding druids, upon hearing Allen's answer, exchanged looks and could not help but feel indignant.
Choosing the natural path merely to solve a problem…
How arrogant!
As if the path they revered, cherished, and devoutly believed in were nothing more than an axe for chopping wood, a plow for farming, a knife for killing…
And after solving the problem?
Would he cast aside the axe, the plow, the knife—leaving them to rot and rust in the wilderness?
Ida Emean's lips carried a faint smile, but her expression remained unchanged. She did not offer even a single smoothing word, and thus the atmosphere at the border of the Druid Circle grew increasingly tense.
Thump!
Zebi Ortega struck the ground with his crow-staff, breaking the heavy silence.
"At least he is honest." He glanced at Ida Emean, smiling lightly, then asked, "Will the problem you seek to solve harm nature?"
"No," Allen shook his head. "On the contrary, I believe it will be a good thing for nature."
"Arrogant!" a druid beside Zebi Ortega muttered.
A mere monster-slaying witcher—what problem could he possibly resolve that would qualify as a "good thing" for mighty nature?
After that comment, the druid opened his mouth to add more mockery—only to meet Zebi Ortega's stern gaze. He shrank his neck and stayed silent.
At that moment—
Another druid, who had been thoughtful ever since hearing Allen's name, suddenly seemed to realize something. He elbowed the one who had spoken, whispering excitedly: "Simmons—Allen… he's that Allen!"
"What of it?" the druid called Simmons brushed away the elbow impatiently. "That witcher looks down on our natur— Wait… Allen, which Allen do you mean?"
Simmons froze, turning toward the witcher in disbelief, his eyes moving from the bright blue cat-pupils to the two long swords on his back.
"You're that Allen?!!" Simmons screamed like a startled woman.
Allen jumped at the sudden sharp voice and nodded. "If you mean the Witcher of the Wolf School… that should be me."
The druid named Simmons—who moments before had disdained him—seemed to be his admirer.
Not surprising.
Thanks to the Ellander's bard's songs, Allen was quite famous in the Temeria region. Even Geralt's father, Korin, was one of his admirers.
But he didn't quite understand…
Zebi Ortega had been meditating in the inner ring of the Mayena Druid Circle for years—that was one thing.
Yet Allen had spent a full month recuperating here. How could some druids still not recognize him and be so shocked?
"Simmons has been away fulfilling tasks assigned by the Druid Circle and only returned today," the druid who reminded him explained. "And Mentor Zebi didn't tell us the honored guest he wished to meet would be… you…"
"Just call me Allen." The formal "you" made Allen's skin crawl.
"Seems you're quite famous outside," Zebi Ortega remarked with curiosity. "I rarely see Simmons or Olga idolize anyone—and a witcher, no less."
"Zebi Mentor, you don't know," Simmons said excitedly, eager to promote, "in the taverns of Mayena, Maribor, Doln Dale and Vizima, the most popular ballad is the poet Yevgeny Virlad's 'Death Knight from the North'…"
"…the blue cat-eyes open and close, Death answers the summons…"
"…the fourteen-year-old knight of Ellander names his beloved silver sword Elsa…"
-----------------------------------
Simmons suddenly opened his mouth to sing without warning. His voice was actually not bad—much clearer and stronger than Erni and Klar—but under the gaze of everyone present, it still made Allen's scalp prickle, and the goosebumps on both his arms immediately rose uncontrollably.
Playing the awkward card, and not even giving a warning?
Allen couldn't help grumbling internally, though he kept a polite, appreciative smile on his face.
But what happened next made the awkwardness multiply.
Because not only did Simmons start singing, the druids beside Zebi Ortega all joined in, singing along. In the end, even the Great Druid Zebi Ortega himself hummed softly along with the melody.
Allen could no longer maintain the mask on his face. His toes curled tightly inside his boots, the corners of his mouth twitched, and an awkward smile stiffened on his face.
Not until a faint commotion gradually rose from the distance did this sudden druid choir finally come to an end.
"Yevgeny Virlad, is it?" Zebi Ortega hummed again with interest. "A nice rhythm. It seems the Northern Continent is about to have another great poet. He should still be in Temeria, yes? We could invite him to the Mayena Druid Circle…"
Invite Yevgeny Virlad for what?
To organize a Mayena Druid Circle choir to sing The Death Knight from the North?
What kind of nightmare would that be?!!
Thinking of that scene, Allen's expression grew even worse.
"Yevgeny Virlad is no longer in Temeria," Simmons said. "About a month ago something seemed to have happened, and he left Temeria without stopping. He should be back in Oxenfurt now."
"Something"—did that refer to being turned into a leech by Vera?
Allen let out a breath of relief.
"That is a pity," Zebi Ortega shook his head. "The innovative rhythmic techniques he used in that ballad—though a bit immature—were quite excellent. But Elsa…"
He paused and glanced curiously at the two swords on Allen's back.
"Isn't that the name of Vesemir's silver sword?"
The druids also looked with interest.
Because of Allen's actions, Elsa had gradually begun to acquire the reputation of a famed sword.
"Elsa did indeed belong to Vesemir once. Because of some… mm… incidents," Allen paused, finding an explanation, "I am the one using it now. A lot in the song is exaggerated."
"Artistic embellishment is normal," Zebi Ortega comforted. "And for a ballad to spread this widely, even artistic embellishments won't be too exaggerated. At the very least they wouldn't credit you with feats that you never took part in."
Allen said nothing, only nodded lightly.
After chatting a bit more about the events Allen had taken part in, and the poems written by Yevgeny Virlad, Zebi Ortega's image grew more vivid in the witcher's mind.
Unlike the usual hermit-like, stubborn, old-fashioned druids, Zebi Ortega—perhaps due to the half-elf blood in his veins—had great fondness for all kinds of art.
Easygoing and warm, he was an elder with a very likable personality.
The druids gathered around Zebi Ortega were all his former pupils. After Ida Emean sent word yesterday, Zebi Ortega decided to come out to the outer ring today and meet his old students.
The Druid Circle's teaching model was similar to the Wolf School's—indeed similar to nearly all extraordinary factions in the Northern Continent.
After an apprentice passed certain trials or examinations, an experienced guide would be assigned as mentor to lead them into deeper study.
The difference was that witcher trials were harsher, sorcerers had stricter and more binding master-disciple relationships, while the Mayena Druid Circle's system was gentler, and mostly taught understanding of nature—not traveling across the Northern Continent, inheriting contracts, resources, connections, or hunting monsters.
But precisely because it was pure teaching of knowledge and insight, druid apprentices tended to be closer to their mentors—more like teachers and students in compulsory education in Allen's past life.
Because the relationship of dependency was weak, many did not stay in contact after graduating.
But teachers who taught sincerely always earned deeper respect.
Clearly, Zebi Ortega was such a mentor.
But no matter how pleasant the atmosphere, there was always an end.
As noise rose around them, many creatures—small animals on the surface but actually Great Druids—gathered from all directions.
"The Grand Mentor is summoning us," Zebi Ortega glanced back at the sacred Mayena, his kind gaze landing on Allen. "Simmons, Olga, since you both know Allen, take him back first and teach him the basic meditation methods on my behalf."
"After I meet the Grand Mentor, I'll return."
"Ida, you haven't come to Mayena in quite a long time. Will you come with me to see the Grand Mentor?"
Zebi Ortega turned toward Ida Emean, who had been leaning with folded arms against an oak tree and had not joined any conversation.
Ida Emean shook her head. "No."
"This is internal business of your Mayena Druid Circle. I won't interfere."
"Internal business…" Zebi Ortega shook his head slightly. "Ida, you should know the Grand Mentor is—"
"I know." Ida Emean interrupted the gray-bearded Great Druid with an unchanged smile. "Next time, Zebi Ortega…"
With that—
Ida Emean nodded to Allen, opened a portal, and left.
Zebi Ortega could only give up. After nodding in farewell to the curious Allen and the other druids, he merged into the gathering, pilgrimage-like procession.
"Ida Emean and the Mayena Druid Circle… there's a story there too…"
Allen withdrew his gaze from the fading portal and narrowed his eyes toward the sacred Mayena shrouded in faint green light…
Lost in thought.
..............
📢Advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: [email protected]/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
1. 20 advanced chapters of The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes.
2. 30 advanced chapters of What year is this? You're still writing a traditional diary?.