Chapter 1416 - 1381: Spirit Body

Geralt estimated the time through his experience.

To fight a battle, even if it’s one limited to a few hundred people, there’s a lot to consider.

Take the White Rose Knights who are secretly crafting siege weapons in this hill, for instance. If the weapons are secretly crafted, it means the crafting site must be inconspicuous.

Inconspicuous means the roads are rugged; how could one move such heavy siege weapons without transporting them on properly maintained roads?

There’s no way to directly approach High Hill Castle from the wild countryside.

That’s why, in those war stories, both sides keep talking about ’this crucial path’ or ’this vital point’.

Because when the army moves, counting the transportation of weapons and supplies, the requirement for roads is an evident hard condition.

Unless a Great Mage suddenly appears who can move mountains and fill seas, then how many roads are available, everybody pretty much knows.

And the White Rose Knight Order’s ’secret attack’ nature this time, along with the large amount of Demon-Blocking Gold they’ve already brought, doesn’t allow the appearance of roles like Great Mages on this battlefield.

Lann’s call entered the mutation hall, and although Triss had already sighed in relief, she was still inspecting the status of the mutation subjects one by one.

Belengar held back Stuart, who subconsciously wanted to exit.

Lincoln, who was called, first looked startled with joy for his battle brothers’ smooth mutations, then he smiled again.

This time, however, the young secretary’s smile... carried a bit of impatient danger.

He first slapped Stuart’s still weak shoulder hard, causing him to stagger, then hurriedly squeezed his large notebook and jogged out.

"Are we finally taking action?"

Lincoln, who jogged out, couldn’t wait to speak as soon as he stood beside Lann.

Lann also didn’t intend for him to stand still; once he saw Lincoln running out of the mutation hall, the young Demon Hunter gestured to Geralt before heading to his own room.

Geralt and Lincoln followed him, their steps somewhat brisk and impatient.

"What should we do, sir?" Lincoln’s tone held no trace of fear, even though he and the other Ember Knights had already learned from Geralt about the enemy’s configuration and advantages.

Fifty against five hundred, defending without siege weapons against attacking with siege weapons.

Yet no one felt a bit of fear.

"Proactively attack? Strike the camp while they’re still constructing the siege works?"

"I can lead the team to depart now! Even if it’s ground combat, they are nothing but trash to us!"

The enemy doesn’t yet know they’ve been exposed. Initiating a proactive attack from within the castle targeting the construction camp is a decision made with great confidence in one’s combat ability, and it’s the bold and correct choice.

"No." But Lann didn’t hesitate for a moment; there wasn’t the slightest pause in his steps leading the duo to his room. "Defending the castle remains the most stable advantage option; I don’t want anyone from White Rose’s trash to have the chance to trade lives with you, not even one!"

"Then it’s you who’s taking action?" Geralt spoke coldly from behind Lann, "Otherwise, I don’t see how defending the castle without siege weapons against their siege weapons becomes the ’advantage option’?"

"Or are you really able to find some Warlocks at this juncture? Have them conjure a strategy with magic?"

Once in work mode, Geralt’s demeanor was calm and became quite aggressive. This is due to the nature of Demon Hunters’ work.

"None of that’s the case."

Lann was entirely accustomed to Geralt’s manner; the three of them turned through several castle corners, went along corridors, and finally stopped outside Lann’s room.

Lann opened the door and went in.

Geralt and Lincoln followed suit, but after entering, quickly glanced around without spotting any secret weapons or unique magic arrays.

Lann, however, paid no heed to their confusion, beginning to tidy up the scattered parchments on his room’s desk.

"Not only will I not act here, but Geralt, neither you, Belengar, nor Triss will take any action."

Lann said while tidying up the parchments; Lincoln noticed the parchments were large, far from the small, trimmed pages used normally.

"The Warlock summit is in these next two days, Triss has to attend it, and you should be at Gos Velen waiting for your Yennefer."

"Lincoln, later inform Triss, let her begin the remaining mutation processes for everyone else immediately."

"Start the mutation today, and in two days it should be enough to get through the most dangerous phase, then all of you can head straight to Gos Velen."

Lann looked like he was about to leave, even letting two veteran demon hunters leave with the female warlock.

Now, it truly meant fifty Ember Knights had to face the siege of five hundred enemy troops without city-defending machinery!

Though Lincoln frowned, he still immediately accepted the order: "Understood, sir!"

However, Geralt looked at Lann completely puzzled.

"Are you really going to withdraw? Not make a move?" He crossed his arms, frowned deeply, and stepped forward. "Do you mean to completely ignore them?"

Lann did not speak; it was Lincoln who held back the White Wolf.

"Master Geralt!" The young secretary pulled the White Wolf’s shoulder, shaking his head at him. "The sir has a plan."

"Haha, look, Geralt." Lann was still organizing the spread-out parchment on the table, chuckling without turning his head, "You have less patience than Lincoln."

"Hmph." Geralt sneered indifferently, "Then I really don’t see what’s so funny about this."

"It’s funny because you actually thought I’d spare them and let them go?!"

Lann suddenly turned, the surprise on his face simply showing clearly.

This left Geralt completely baffled.

But Lann had no time to worry about him.

With a big stack of large parchment sheets in his hand, he turned and handed them to Lincoln. In reality, there weren’t that many sheets; it’s just that these uncropped and untrimmed parchments were so big and thick, making it appear like a huge stack.

"What is this, sir?"

Holding a big stack of parchment, Lincoln seemed a bit strained, but at this close distance, the young secretary immediately noticed.

On these parchments, written with something like talcum powder seemed to be a series of... characters? Patterns?

"Oh, you don’t need to be so careful. The characters on them look like they’re written with chalk and can be smudged, but actually, you can wipe them off without a problem."

Lann explained to Lincoln while pushing the dazed Geralt to the side.

He took out a parchment left behind and casually tossed it to the ground.

Then, from the alchemy pouch at his back waist, he took out a stone with angles, wrapped in white cloth strips.

Lann squatted before Lincoln, using the stone’s corner to smoothly carve a set of characters onto the parchment.

Lincoln looked at the characters just drawn on the parchment on the ground, thinking so that’s what the chalk-like marks were made by this stone.

He also looked at the large stack of parchment he held, and his keen secretary’s instinct let him realize that although he couldn’t understand these characters, there were differences among them.

Geralt, pushed aside, still wanted to come over to see what this was all about and what power this parchment held.

But immediately, under Geralt and Lincoln’s surprised gaze, the characters on the parchment began to emit a white glow.

Lann stepped back, and the white glow from the characters twisted into a whirlpool shape, while a faint white humanoid spirit appeared vividly in front of them!

As the spirit appeared, the spiritual power emitted a profound and long low hum in the space.

Experienced Geralt immediately judged that this was indeed a spirit.

Because this sound was often heard during demon hunter and demon spirit battles, but those frenzied spirits made this hum short and piercing due to the urgency of battle.

Geralt had seen many spirits, but he had never seen a spirit that resembled a normal person.

The spirit emerging from the glowing characters’ twisted whirlpool, although semi-transparent and glowing white, was dressed in a way that made it feel like a gloomy and aged raven.

Wearing a cloak adorned with bird feathers, a necklace with beast bones as pendants, bandages wrapping the upper half of the face, and holding an axe in one hand.

The spirit, though a spirit, had a clear mind and obviously understood the situation.

"Oh dear, calling the master so soon again?" The old and frail voice, matching its appearance, sounded slowly, "I haven’t even prepared the spellbook, impatient apprentice."

"Teaching and learning, what’s a moment here and there?" Lann familiarly greeted the spirit, "Fortunately, we just connected. My enemies here are coming, so I thought at least my people should know how to summon you, right?"

"Isn’t there anyone here who can use the [White Mark Wax Stone]?" The old raven-like spirit sighed, "Apprentice, how remote is your homeland?"