First Step into New World.

It was a place of peace and nature. Birds sang their songs, wolves howled at the moon, gathering their packs for a hunt.

Somewhere by the road stomped by horses on a regular basis near the little river brook, sat a man. His horse was tied to the tree, but never unloaded in preparation for immediate departure if need arises.

Man had a tattoo over the bald head and a thick black beard. He wore armor that was clearly easy to move in with proper protection over the whole body, comprised of different plating of metal and a belt with bottles of some alchemy potions strapped to it coupled with a sash littered with throwing knifes. It looked like a normal clothing from one point of view.

But from another a very ingenious piece of equipment.

Man suddenly froze for a moment, as something on his neck vibrated a bit and reached for a sword on his back. But after a moment of thought his hand shifted from one hilt to another, situated just a palm away.

The glass of wine he held was gulped down in one move.

"Can that be even more loud? I tell ya, kiddo, moving like an ice giant in the brothel full of whores on duty." - said the man to someone behind him and without further ado, not waiting for the answer, turned around with a side roll and threw Aard at approaching human.

"Dammit... was that a Sign?" - came startled yelp and a man looked at the young boy about fourteen to fifteen years old in very strange but one must say, cool looking clothes.

"Nice dress, cutie..." - he clicked his tongue and with seriousness looked at the frontal magic shield dispersing in the air. - "A mage, huh. And so young." - he said inaudibly.

"No one will think you are mute if you don't talk." - said the boy coldly with clear dislike to his comment. The first one.

"Smart ass, huh? It's fine, seen boyas like ya, good beating always solved the problem for me." - he smirked in return.

"You are a local troll or what?" - the boy asked with exasperation, but it lack most of the emotions, as if he was locking them away to keep a man a mile away from his inner self.

"Hey ya, boy, didn't ya see a troll at least on the picture in ya kindergarten ya crawled out from?" - the man glared at the youth with cat-like eyes and couldn't even start to imagine what actually resembles a troll in him.

"At least in intellect you are the one for sure." - retorted the boy grumpily, but at this point while they were talking it was clear for both that neither side actually had any intent to harm the other.

"Ya said it, boy! Now prepare for grandpa Coen course of spanking!" - he sheathed the sword and moved in an arc using trees and terrain as a cover, while creating a thick golden shield atop himself.

'This should be Quen. Quite interesting. Hmm, I should do the same with my Protego spell. Although the geometry will be more complex and there is a need to make it flexible so I can move, the sturdiness will be the best. Will work over it during meditations.'

Alan shifted to create distance. He knew very well, that in close combat, witcher will pulverize him to dust in seconds. But the man was something else. He moved like a shadow and was extremely fast!

'Looks like their mutations are no joke! Truly something that creates superhumans.'

"You old fossil barely moving as it is, want to spank me? Fat chance!" - somehow Alan instead of feeling depressed or anger actually found himself excited and even playful.

Hell, he needed this!

No hard feelings and laws, only adrenaline of combat.

Freedom to use magic and fight with no inhibitions.

It made him excited!

After dropping here in unknown wilderness he finally found a person and what is more, he understood what world he ended up in and more or less timeline too. Coen wasn't exactly a well-known witcher, as he didn't belong to wolf school.

Actually, Alan didn't know where he was trained and undergone alchemical mutations, but what he knew, that he died during Battle of Brenna and if he is still alive, then war is yet to happen, so it must be earlier than 1268. And that is the timeline of books even prior to first witcher game.

'It is always so strange to remember facts and many things, but not you life and person.'

'Whatever. I don't really know very much about these series, but I can't be considered ignorant too. I read the books and played the last two games, at least I got information from both and on that note... knowledge is power. Coen was one of the teachers of Ciri while she was in Kaer Morhen, that is why I remember the name. But later he was inspired by Triss talk about witchers policy to not involve themselves and eventually broke that rule, participating in a battle that in result became a mother of his demise.'

"Hehe, you little cutie can talk. Just watch this witcher teach you some manners, white ass!" - came from the side and Alan immediately sent a spell through the woods. It was akin to an invisible siege machine blast, overturning the ground and shattering the trees in the wake.

"Shit my beard! You little cheating twat! Where ya casting time? Goddammit, when did mages learn to spellcast waving their hands like a scarecrow?" - cursed Coen out loud while stepping from the tree to the side and looking at the destruction Alan created. - "Ya little freak of nature is no boy to piss off!"

"You just noticed? By the way, you can use some soap to wash your mouth." - said Alan nonchalantly.

"Ya want this daddy go at it again? I swear on the names of Mila, Gwen and Steffany I fucked yesterday I will use yar ass for target practice!" - raged witcher with a straight face and no shame. Then he suddenly went in deep thought. - "Or was it Hilla and not Gwen? Hard to remember."

"Drink less." - sighed Alan.

"Wise advice, boy." - he said with sudden seriousness and looked sideways, keeping silence. - "Continue later?"

Alan did the same and his senses that became very acute after bloodline awakening picked up several strange things moving their way. He shifted to the back of the witcher with no talking or sounds and stood back to back.

Coen was very surprised, but with that his already good impression on the kid went up a notch. Don't look at him playing rogue by word or by a book with Alan. He was just having fun and testing the newcomer.

Alan remembered how during awakening a plethora of knowledge was seared into his brain with burning pain and a new couple of things he can do that were new and directly took root in his bloodline, origin of which is very complicated matter to discuss. Demon? Asta? Black Progenitor Violergos?

It was all a bunch of hollow words that lacked meaning.

Alan did as was advised there and gawked at the changes. It was like turning a switch to his eyes. The world became very different, more colorful and rich in details, but more than that he sensed that he gained a special trait to see auras of the living creatures.

With evolved eyes, that can see high-speed objects and enhance his subjective perception of time, he knew that practically nothing can escape his vision now.

He looked around and found seven creatures barely the height of a child moving to their position.

"Seven. From your side. Childlike bodies and big heads. Two bigger and have stronger auras." - he whispered to Coen.

"Not bad." - only said the witcher and unsheathed his sword. - "Got some killer stuff in your arsenal?"

"Naturally." - said Alan looking with meaning at the crumbled tree.

"Something not so loud." - commented witcher as if having eyes of his back.

"Got it." - simply said Alan and readied himself for combat.

"Don't fret, this little shits are nekkers. One of the weakest ogroids out there, just some pests, and they don't have warlords and shamans among them." - scoffed Coen, waving his sword a bit to better get the feel of it.

'They even have that? It seems the real bestiary is way broader.'

Suddenly the group dispersed and two of them burrowed under the ground, while three went for the trees to the higher branches and moved, jumping from one to another. While the remaining two were the ones with stronger aura and went for frontal assault.

'Smart ones.'

When the two jumped from the bushes, Coen shifted to lower stance that normally you won't see while fighting with humans. Witchers are known as monster hunters, not for cool eyes. Their combat style is honed to fight them instead of humans.

His silver sword went for a very fast side swing, while Alan decided to only assist the witcher, as he quite believed this little group won't pose a threat to him. And, well, he was right.

Coen ignited runes on his sword that shone with bluish color and ice natural mana made its appearance on the edge of a blade. One of the nekkers was beheaded in no time, while another had enough reaction speed to jump away, but got some ice on his body.

While Coen went for a frontal step and another quick attack to finish off the second warrior nekker, Alan pressed his palm on the ground and used landslide spell in conical attack, sending a wave of moving earth through the two nekkers approaching from the side.

It was one of several elemental spells he learned to Isu version, that made the usage of it way broader. Originally it was an earth wall spell, but after proper integration with Isu magic language he created several ways to use it, namely Landslide, Spike, Wall, Softening and Hardening.

Landslide was a dreadful spell for monsters underground.

Difference in pressure have squashed them out to the surface with severe injuries and thrown to the side. Alan waved his hand up as if lifting something and simultaneously to the move several shadow spikes from black matter impaled the two creatures, corroding them in the process, leaving gaping holes in their chests, fuming with foul odor.

It was his second choice to comprehend during permission, as it was silent and actually originally just a spell to bind someone with chains made of shadows. But he converted it to a versatile handful of battle spells, Shadow Spike was one of them.

"Good one boy! From above!" - said Coen while using a spin to swipe his sword upwards, cleaving one of the three descending foes in two. Black blood and intestines flew on both of them and when witcher saw just a slight uncomfortable cringe on the handsome face of the boy but no disruptions in actions, he nodded with approval again.

Alan waved a hand, sending a sectumsempra curse in its Isu version at the duo still in the air. Damn one need to see the effects. It was as if they were forced through a meat-grinder. Dozens of bone deep cuts littered their bodies, decapitating nekkers in several places.

This curse created by Severus Snape was out of the norm in comparison to others and was easily the most lethal weapon in his magic arsenal. It created cuts from space powered by invisible blades. The dreadful part comes when Alan added his lineage power to it, that's when it begins to literally bypass any armor and mince the target to a bloody mash.

He experimented on three variations of it, one of which – Carnage, he used now, creating an area of meat grinding experience for any foes. Second way to use it is multiple slashes on target, Whirlwind, but the most destructive came to be the last single chop. He called it simple – Guillotine.

As to what extent its power went, hard to say.