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Witcher: The Half Elf

Wayne, a former sports student, found himself in an unexpectedly awkward situation after a fatal accident involving a dump truck. Instead of continuing his previous life, he was reborn as a half-elf-witcher at Kaer Morhen. This transformation left him feeling out of place in a world filled with unruly individuals, flourishing malevolent deities, rampant monsters, and inept kings and nobles. Yet, Wayne couldn't help but feel that he was endowed with numerous advantages. ______________________________ Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the fanfic I was merely translating this. Note: This is a Chinese Translation 巫师:这个猎魔人不务正业 You can support me on Patreon and Read 10 Chapters in advance patreon.com/Lil674

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272 Chs

Return to Kaer Morhen

The auction for the Crusader enchantment proceeded without any theatrical displays or attempts to deceive.

"Eighty-five gold coins, first call!"

"Eighty-five gold coins, second call!"

"Eighty-five gold coins, third and final call!"

"Sold! The Crusader enchantment scroll goes to bidder number 101!"

Wayne had steadily raised the price from the initial fifty gold coins to the final eighty-five, at which point no other bidders remained. While eighty-five gold coins represented a significant sum for most sword-wielding adventurers, it was a mere trifle for Wayne. With an exchange rate of roughly twenty to one, one Azeroth gold coin equaled approximately twenty orens, placing the eighty-five gold coins at around seventeen hundred orens.

Admittedly, Wayne felt a pang of regret. His house in Vizima had cost him just over two thousand orens, and this single enchantment scroll had nearly equaled half that amount.

Nonetheless, he considered it a bargain. In this time of relative peace, Azeroth had not yet experienced the inflation of later years, and most items remained affordable, enticing Wayne to continue his shopping spree.

Compared to the resource-scarce Witcher world, Azeroth truly offered an abundance of treasures. Among the next fifty auction items, every single one held some appeal. However, for witcher like Wayne, ordinary weapons and armor held little significance.

Their steel and silver swords, as well as their armor, were crafted from blueprints dating back to the Order of the Flaming Rose, specifically tailored for their unique needs.

Unless he encountered a legendary weapon like the Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker, the allure of even exceptional magical weapons paled in comparison to the familiar tools of his trade.

Yet, beyond weapons and armor, the auction presented other treasures. Enchantments for various pieces of gear – gloves, shoulder armor, boots, belts, breastplates, and cloaks – were up for grabs. Despite the inflated auction prices, Wayne still managed to acquire a full set of dragonscale armor enchantments for himself. While the individual improvements might seem minor, when combined, the entire set significantly enhanced his overall strength.

Acquiring these enchantments sparked Wayne's interest in the art of enchanting. However, Lawrence informed him that these scrolls were traded from the magical kingdom of Dalaran within the Alliance.

Currently, no enchanters resided in Stormwind City, meaning that to learn this skill, Wayne would need to travel to either Dalaran or the High Elf kingdom. This piqued Wayne's curiosity about the fabled magical kingdom of Dalaran, but with limited time this year, a journey across half the continent of Azeroth to explore it was impossible. He would have to wait for his next visit to Azeroth to pursue that adventure.

In addition to the enchantments, other valuable items were also available, such as potent healing and mana potions. Wayne purchased five bottles of each, costing him over one hundred Azeroth gold coins—the equivalent of two thousand orens, or roughly the price of another mansion.

These powerful potions, ten times more effective than intermediate ones, were said to be capable of saving lives as long as one wasn't already dead. Crafted meticulously by master alchemists, their output was limited even by the most skilled hands.

What truly astonished Wayne, however, was the third-to-last auction item: a set of thirteen Hearthstones. These were the very stones capable of long-distance teleportation.

During his time in Azeroth, Wayne had learned that while Hearthstones were relatively rare, they weren't unheard of. Much like swords and armor, most powerful adventurers or nobles could acquire them. However, Hearthstones came in various grades. The most common, found in the marketplace, had a thirty-day cooldown period, equating to one month. Treasure-grade Hearthstones were much rarer and usually monopolized by powerful individuals, with a cooldown of ten days.

Rumor had it that there were even super Hearthstones, incredibly rare and usable every single day, but these were never seen on the market, and their owners remained shrouded in mystery.

The prices for Hearthstones were equally astonishing. The thirteen common Hearthstones at the auction had a starting bid of thirty gold coins each. In the end, Wayne spent a staggering 500 gold coins to purchase ten of them, equivalent to nearly 10,000 orens—a price unimaginable to most witchers.

Rare-grade Hearthstones typically fetched between 800 and 1,000 Azeroth gold coins, and sightings on the market were infrequent. As for the elusive super Hearthstone, no recorded sale existed, making its price unknown.

Wayne's motive behind purchasing these Hearthstones was to gift them to his fellow Wolf School witchers. Each person could possess only one, and to activate it, one had to hold the Hearthstone in both hands, place it against their heart, and channel their longing for home into the stone. After a few undisturbed attempts, it would transport them back to their designated home within a minute.

However, this meant Hearthstones could only be used safely in secure environments. Activating one in combat required shedding distractions and ensuring personal safety, lest the user be interrupted and killed mid-teleport.

Additionally, while a Hearthstone could only be bound to one location and was unalterable, it wasn't indestructible. Destroying an old Hearthstone allowed for binding to a new location. Although the Hearthstones had cost a hefty sum, putting Wayne in considerable debt, they would save his Wolf School brothers from spending months each year traveling to and fro.

As the auction concluded, the afternoon was drawing to a close. Wayne, laden with purchases stored in his spatial bracelet, attracted many curious stares as he departed the Brown Auction House. Even in Stormwind, few individuals, even among the nobility, could afford to spend nearly a thousand gold coins in a single afternoon.

Wayne, however, paid little attention to the onlookers. He and Lawrence made their way to the temple district to find Julie, who was accompanied by a quiet young priestess. The girl, perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old, had inherited the Lawrence family's tall and voluptuous figure, possessing a captivating charm at a young age. This was Hallie Lawrence, daughter of James, the mayor of Goldshire.

Wayne, however, refrained from any flirtatious behavior with the young priestess, maintaining a reserved and polite demeanor throughout their interaction. The four of them dined at an upscale restaurant before returning to Goldshire by carriage.

A few days later, Wayne prepared to return to the witcher world. He bid farewell to his friends in Goldshire and received several parting gifts. Julie found an opportunity to spend some intimate time with him, nearly overwhelming Wayne with her ample bosom.

By the time he arrived back in Vizima, it was already early November.

With little time to spare, he spent a day enjoying Triss's company. The following day, after a meaningful conversation with the two dryads and the Lady of the Lake on her island, Wayne boarded his magic flying carpet, embarking on the journey back to Kaer Morhen.

Thanks to the sustaining effects of his mana and Tawny Owl potions, Wayne flew non-stop through the sky. It took him only a day and two nights to reach the elven ruins of Tuirseach in Kaedwen, where Toruviel resided.

This time, his stay was brief. He exchanged pleasantries with the elven leader, caught up on each other's lives, and prepared to depart once more. However, Wayne wasn't heartless. He promised Toruviel he would spend more time with her in the ruins during his next visit.

Moreover, Toruviel revealed that the elven sorceress Francesca wished to meet him, hinting at a potential commission. Wayne remained noncommittal, stating they would discuss the details upon meeting.

Toruviel, not one to press the matter, proudly presented Wayne with a longbow. It was a powerful weapon, crafted from a blend of unknown wood and metal, measuring approximately one meter and forty centimeters in length. The bowstring was woven from green dragon tendons mixed with other materials. As per Wayne's request, this bow required immense strength to wield, boasting a range of up to 600 meters and capable of piercing armor at close range if drawn by a sufficiently strong user.

"This bow is called the Serpent Scale," Toruviel declared, her voice filled with pride for her race's craftsmanship. "It was created by a master bowyer in Pontar Valley, and it took him nine months to complete." She gently stroked the black and red longbow before placing it in Wayne's hands, continuing,

"The master bowyer said this bow is one of the finest in the entire North, but few can wield it. It demands not only exceptional archery skill, but also immense strength." Toruviel sighed. "I have tried many times, but even with my strength, I cannot fully draw the bowstring and unleash its true power."

Wayne remained unfazed by Toruviel's words. He took the bow, plucked a steel arrow from the quiver on his back, and effortlessly drew the magnificent bow to full string. Then, under Toruviel's surprised and admiring gaze, Wayne aimed at a Drowner scavenging along the riverbank a few hundred meters away.

With a resonant twang of the bowstring, the steel arrow shot forth like a black shadow. It struck the water hag's head with a hiss, but instead of piercing through as Wayne had expected, the arrow embedded itself halfway into the creature's skull, exiting through the back and carrying the hag's body a half-meter into the air before plunging into the river. The unfortunate creature didn't even have time to cry out before its life was extinguished.

Witnessing the devastating power of the bow, Wayne nodded in satisfaction. He then reached out, enveloping Toruviel in a warm embrace and kissing her passionately as she gazed up at him with adoration. Only when the elf's body went limp in his arms did Wayne release her, declaring with a contented smile, "I love this bow, Toruviel. Thank you for the gift."

After a moment's consideration, Wayne retrieved a dozen intermediate healing potions and a pair of exquisite women's leather boots crafted from an unknown material from his spatial bracelet. He presented them to Toruviel, saying, "This is my gift to you."

"These boots will enhance your agility, reduce fall damage, and increase your jump height." He continued, "These potions are healing elixirs that can quickly mend wounds. They're non-toxic and safe for anyone to use. Keep them with you for emergencies, though I hope you'll never need them."

Toruviel accepted the gifts without hesitation. She was a woman of straightforward nature, rarely showing any coyness, even in front of Wayne.

In return, she gifted Wayne a jug of special cider. With a farewell, Wayne left the elven ruins and soared into the vast Blue Mountains, braving the cold winter winds.

After a long and arduous flight through the bitter cold, the castle etched in the hearts of all Wolf School witchers finally came into view. Wayne exhaled a warm breath, descending into the castle courtyard. Despite his age, a voice that warmed Wayne's heart greeted him.

"Welcome home, child," Vesemir's familiar voice echoed. "You're rather late this year. Everyone's waiting for you inside the castle."

.....

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