Chapter 122

After hearing Wayne's statement, Francesca picked up a cup of the elven-exclusive Hundred-Flower Brew, took a light sip, pondered for a dozen seconds, and said:

"What you say is very true. We cannot pin our hopes on the enemy's mercy. Our people live under the surveillance of humans, like lambs waiting to be slaughtered, facing their butcher knives at any moment."

Having said this, the sorceress raised her head to look into Wayne's eyes. A trace of sorrow appeared on her beautiful face, and her voice became much lower.

"It is a pity, Wayne, that changing the status quo is extremely difficult. The human upper echelons do not hold the attitude of contempt or indifference toward non-human races that you imagine."

"Including you witchers, they are very shrewd and very clear-headed. They know exactly who their enemies are. Whether it is non-human races or witchers, the reason they are in such a hostile social environment is entirely intentional on their part."

"And once we make a major move, we will be immediately discovered by them, provoking their counterattack. Do you think that over these past thousand years, there have been few massacres of non-human races living under human rule?"

The sorceress's gaze became somewhat lost as she said softly:

"It is not that we do not want to change, or do not want to make the elves' situation better; it is just that we dare not act rashly."

"But if we do not make changes, the situation will only get worse and worse. In the end, it is because our elven race's strength is too weak."

"Thousands of years ago, our war with humans ended in a crushing defeat. Now, a millennium has passed, and human strength has expanded more than several times over. Today, it is even more impossible for us to defeat them on the front lines."

Wayne was somewhat surprised to hear this. He had not expected that the elven leader—who in the original work defected to the Nilfgaard Kingdom and was then used and discarded like a chamber pot—could see things so clearly. This was something he had not anticipated.

He pondered for a few seconds and decided to reveal a bit of real substance, because it was indeed as Francesca said: the situation of witchers and the situation of non-human races were the same. Helping them was, in the same vein, helping the witchers themselves.

Thus, he spoke: "Lady Francesca, I wonder if you have heard of Ithlinne's Prophecy, and do you believe in this prophecy?"

As a powerful sorceress, Francesca was, of course, very clear about this prophecy from the elven prophet. In fact, they were far clearer than anyone else in the world about the truth of the "Time of the White Frost" mentioned in the prophecy.

She nodded slightly, her expression showing no abnormality, and said indifferently: "Of course I have heard of this prophecy. This elven prophet named Ithlinne was once a friend of my father."

"Regarding this prophecy, the commoners at the bottom do not believe it, or even know of it at all. But whether it is the human upper echelons, all spellcasters, or the leaders of various races, everyone has their own corresponding interpretation of this prophecy."

"And many things mentioned in the prophecy have already been verified in reality. Of course, I also believe in the warning given to us by this elven prophet."

Wayne nodded, glanced at Toruviel, who was sitting beside them drinking and burying her head in thought, and then looked back at Francesca, saying:

"Actually, I also believe in this prophecy."

"The time of the sword and axe is near, the era of the wolf and blizzard. The time of the White Frost and White Light is coming, the era of madness and contempt: the time of the end. The world will die in frost and be reborn in a new sun. That is also when the Hen Ichaer—the Elder Blood—the seed sown, will be reborn. The seed will not sprout, but will burst into flames."

"Woe unto you, for the destroyer of nations is coming. Your lands will be trampled and divided. Your cities will burn, and the inhabitants will flee. Bats, night owls, and ravens will haunt your homes, and snakes and insects will nest in them."

After he softly finished reciting this parable, he sighed and said: "In the prophecy, war, natural disasters, plagues, and slaughter are soon to descend upon this world again."

"Look at the current state of the Northern Kingdoms, the South, and even other continents."

"Actually, this prophecy is not without reason. Humans are a selfish and exclusionary race."

"They have already occupied a dominant position in this world; there are no other races left that can be their enemies. Their only remaining enemies are humans themselves."

"So next, they will fall into civil strife because they have no external enemies, and they will trigger wars over the struggle for power and interests."

"And when war sweeps across all of humanity, sweeps across the entire continent, and when they are locked in mutual slaughter, that is the opportunity the other non-human races have been waiting for. This time will not be too long—perhaps ten years, perhaps twenty. When the legendary Elder Blood appears again, it will signify that the era described in the prophecy has arrived."

"And before that, whether it is witchers, dwarves, or elves—all rare races struggling to survive under human oppression—what they must do is unite, accumulate strength, and wait for an opportunity."

"And this opportunity is not far from us."

………………

After the dinner ended, Wayne and Toruviel bid farewell to Francesca and returned to the elven ruins in Kaedwen.

Just as they had said at the beginning, this was just an ordinary dinner and an ordinary conversation. The two had only chatted about their respective thoughts and clarified each other's attitudes, and then quickly ended this contact.

It was like making a new friend; before there was sufficient trust between the two parties, neither would truly reveal their trump cards or their real thoughts to the other.

However, as one of the most powerful sorceresses in the world, the beautiful Lady Francesca was still very generous.

Facing the poor witcher Wayne, this elven lady not only gifted him two precious pieces of magic inner armor from the elven treasury as an extra reward for clearing the ruins, but also promised that if he encountered any difficulties regarding spells in the future, she would provide help as she saw fit.

Although the two sides did not state it explicitly, they had already reached a subtle cooperative relationship in secret, adding another partner they could cooperate with in case of emergency.

Wayne was quite satisfied with this. In a sense, Francesca, a sorceress who was also of the elven race, was more trustworthy than Keira, with whom he had already had an intimate relationship.

Because both sides shared common dilemmas and common goals, whereas Keira, as a human sorceress, would naturally think of the interests of the human race, which was not something that could be controlled by a so-called easily discarded lover relationship.

It was just that for now, whether in terms of individual strength or personal influence, he could not reach an equal cooperative relationship with Lady Francesca, who sat on the resources of almost the entire elven race, which was why many plans could not yet be implemented.

However, Wayne was not in a hurry. It was now 1250, and it was only his second year since becoming a witcher. Before the real chaos broke out, he had nearly a dozen years to develop his strength and influence.

For a witcher who was already powerful and also had the help of a system, this amount of time was enough.

According to the development of the plot, by next year, the great Child of Destiny, Ciri, should be born, and he would also be able to successfully meet the man who would stir up the Northern and Southern Kingdoms and launch a war that would sweep the entire continent—Emhyr, the man who danced on graves.

After returning to the ruins, Wayne did not act coy and went straight into the female elf's room. When he and the female elf were whispering sweet nothings and entwined in the bathtub, he suddenly thought of something and asked: "Toruviel, I heard that elves are all skilled at archery. Do you know any masters who make bows and arrows?"

Toruviel, who had originally been somewhat intoxicated, suddenly looked up at the witcher with a playful reproach after hearing Wayne's question. She then leaned over and bit him on the throat before saying: "Do you want to make bows and arrows? The bow and arrow I gave you should already belong to the category of high-quality bows."

Wayne grinned, wrapped his arms around Toruviel's slender waist to pull them closer, and said: "You should know my arm strength. That bow and arrow can no longer bring out my full strength. I happen to have a green dragon's tendon in my pack; perhaps it can be used to make some bows with stronger draw weight."

"There is also the green dragon's leather. I didn't know your measurements before, so I couldn't tailor a set of dragon-leather armor for you."

"If you know any highly skilled craftsmen, I can share some dragon leather with you so you can make it yourself. Of course, there will be a share of bows and arrows for you too."

Upon hearing this, Toruviel couldn't help but show a smile on her face. Dragon-leather armor and bows made from dragon tendons were all extremely precious and rare equipment.

After all, in these times when dragons were extremely scarce, so-called dragon-slaying events only occurred once every few decades, and most of the targets hunted were just fake drakes. Equipment made from true dragons was extremely rare.

The female elf leaned over and kissed Wayne on the lips, saying with a hint of sweetness in her tone:

"Fine, leave this matter to me. There are some master craftsmen in the Valley of Flowers who carry on the exquisite techniques of the Elven Kingdom. I will ask them to help you make them."

(End of chapter)