Vulture

Chapter 240

A gust of cold wind blew through the woods, and rain poured through the cracks between the canopy, washing the blood off the mulch.

The witchers were staring at the man thirty feet away from them. He, too, was a witcher. He stood in silence, facing the Viper School witchers. He was wearing black armor, and compared to his muscular peers, he was shorter and a bit slim, but his limbs were slender, and his muscles were lean. There were two blades behind him, and the silver sword was in its scabbard. He had just wiped his steel sword off, and he swung it around. The man was a left-hander.

He got some blood on his face, and the man was wearing sunglasses. They could not see his eyes and where he was looking. He had short black hair, and it was well-trimmed. The guy must take care of it every day. He had an aquiline nose, thin lips, pronounced chin, and chiseled features. His ears were pointy. This man was an elf.

Three-quarter elf, to be exact. All Cat School witchers had elven blood. It helped with dexterity. So… they're glass cannons?

'Felix

Age: Eighty-seven years old

Gender: Male

Status: Cat School witcher

HP: 150

Mana: 110

Strength: ? (Requires higher Perception)

Dexterity: ?

Constitution: 15

Perception: 14

Will: 10

Charisma: 6

Spirit: 11

Skills:

Witcher Signs Level 5, Meditation Level 9, Cat School Swordsmanship Level 10, Witcher Sense Level 10, Alchemy Level 8…

***

"You there! What's your name?" Letho showed his hands, telling the witcher he meant no harm.

The witcher's lips curled eerily, forming a cold, crazy smile. "You should introduce yourself first if you want to know someone's name."

"I'm Letho of Gulet." Letho then introduced his companions. "This is Auckes, Serrit, and Roy. We're from the Viper School." He showed Felix his pendant.

"I'm Felix from the Cat School."

"Do you know who Carl is?"

"The orphan, you mean?" Felix pushed his sunglasses down. His eyes were greyish-green. The witcher stabbed his sword into the ground and crossed his arms. "I'll have to tell you that the child made a deal with me, and I have just avenged his friends." He looked at the decapitated head on the ground. "The bandits are dead. I have upheld my end of the bargain. The child is mine, and nobody can take him away from me."

Felix had a weird way of talking, and he had a drawl. Roy had no idea which country's accent that was, but the look on his face annoyed everyone. Serrit was about to fly into a rage. He had always been the rash one, but fortunately, Roy held him down in time. "Worry not, friend. We're not here to take the child from you."

"I don't see Vipers as nice as you. You followed me all the way here just to give up?"

"Ah, but we didn't follow you." Roy smiled dryly. Felix was as hot headed as Serrit. "We were following these bandits, but now that they're dead, I guess we won't have to fight."

Silence fell between them. They were observing each other. Felix was curled up a little, and he was flicking his fingers around. He could make a move at any given moment. Serrit and Auckes looked at him calmly. This witcher was less crazy and unreasonable than his colleagues from the same school. He was a decent swordsman as well. They thought he could be a great sparring partner. Letho had his arms crossed, reminiscence gleaming in his eyes. Felix seemed to remind him of someone.

"Why don't we talk somewhere else?" Roy broke the ice. "We don't run into other witchers very often. There's much to talk about." He took out a bottle of dwarven liquor from nowhere and took a swig. It burned his throat, but he held it down and tossed it to Felix.

Felix held it and poured the liquor down his blade. "I never drink. Liquors slow me down, but my friend thanks you for the treat."

***

Night descended upon the land, but the light of a fire broke through the forest's darkness. A group of five witchers gathered around the bonfire. A disemboweled moose stood over the fire. It was golden and crackling. Its fat dripped into the fire, infusing the smoke with a meaty aroma. The scent wafted and faded into the air.

This was the bandits' camp, but they were already six feet under at this point. Nothing but cold, unmoving corpses. Their ears were cut off too, of course. The witchers took over the place.

"Honestly, I didn't really hear about the Viper School until today." Felix cut off a small piece of meat and popped it into his mouth while it was still hot. The witcher then slurped happily. "And seeing four at once is a first for me."

"Our school's in the south. To be specific, it's in Nilfgaard. Most of us never really come to the north." Letho took a swig of the dwarven liquor and squinted in enjoyment. "Of course you never heard of us."

"You're based in Nilfgaard? No wonder I've never heard of you. Do you guys hunt in groups? Witchers don't move in teams here." Felix looked curious. "It's easier to make money working solo."

"We have no choice," Letho said. "The Wild Hunt destroyed our fortress, and it's abandoned now. The new king doubled down on witchers after he ascended the throne years ago. The south doesn't tolerate us anymore, so we have to try our luck here. And honestly…" He wiped the liquor off his lips. "We're the only Viper School witchers alive."

Letho lied a little bit, but Felix had no idea about it. He seemed a little sympathetic about them, but all witcher schools were in the same predicament.

"What about you, Felix? Why'd you come to Temeria?" Roy sprinkled some spices onto the meat to liven up its taste. Wilt craned its neck, and Gryphon the dog was lying on its snout. They were both staring at the food unblinkingly. Well, the drinks, to be exact. They wanted some liquor.

"You're cheeky, aren't you?" Roy chided them and poured a drop onto their tongues. The animals walked away, looking fulfilled.

Felix gave him a glance, but he did not pry. "I'm just a traveler who walks these lands looking for requests to put food on the table." He looked into the night. "And I'm also looking for someone to inherit my legacy."

"You're in luck. Carl's a tough kid. He can probably pass the trial," Serrit chimed in, but he sounded a little confrontational. He gave Felix a challenging look. "Say, I'm curious about your request. Out to murder someone again, aren't you?"

The air froze, and tension rose. Silence enveloped everyone. Only the sounds of crackling flames and silent gulping were heard.

"I know our school is infamous." Felix put the shank down, though it was nothing but bones now. He had a big appetite, but he ate slowly. Not even a sliver of food had gone to waste.

The Viper School witchers had heard about the Cat School before. They were the biggest witcher school at the moment. They put emphasis on speed, precision, and dexterity in their combat. Felix's light armor was in line with that philosophy. Their armor was light by design to not hinder them in battle.

Unfortunately, their morality and political stance was as flexible as their combat was. A big part of this school's witchers would accept unorthodox requests and work as killers and assassins just to make some coins.

These fallen witchers' actions affected everyone in this trade. They were like rotten apples that would poison the whole crate if left unchecked.

"But we're not all mad. We're not made up of assassins or executioners. A large chunk of us still go with tradition and only kill monsters." Felix looked frustrated. It looked like he was affected by his schoolmates' actions as well. His school's reputation turned into infamy because of them.

"I have a feeling you're a man with his own creed." Auckes tossed his prejudice behind and raised a rib toast to him.

Felix raised a shank in return.

"Mr. F—"

"Call me Vulture."

"How's the Cat School doing, Vulture? It's better than the Viper School at least, right?"

Felix was silent for a while, then he said, "Probably not as good as you think. I have no idea what those fossils are thinking. They keep taking in violent brats and unleashing their darkest side with the trial. It's been a long time since they started this, and all the important guys in the school are now made up of madmen and sadists." He sighed. "I have no idea how to talk to them. It's been more than ten years since I went back to the fortress. Everything I know, I know from another witcher's mouth."

Roy fell into his thoughts. Every school's recipe for the trial is different. Maybe the Cat School's recipe is flawed. Or maybe elven blood isn't compatible with it. "So what will you do with Carl? He has to take the trial in the fortress eventually."

"No. He doesn't have to do it in the fortress," Felix answered. "And I'm not in a hurry. He'll probably need a year of training and adapt to his new life. I'm going to find a place for him to live in Novigrad."

The Viper School witchers looked at one another, and Roy was delighted. So Felix takes the recipe with him everywhere he goes?

"Hey, the boy from Viper School. Roy, right? You don't seem too old to me."

"He just went through the trial about six months ago," Letho answered. "He's not even fifteen."

Felix's eyes shone up, and he looked at Letho and Roy. "Can you tell me all about his trial? I want to know every single detail."

"Oh, that's going to be a long story."

"I can listen to it all day. Trust me."