Pain, Growth and Transformation

Perhaps Lambert's pride had been wounded by his previous losses. Wayne's provocation only fueled his competitive spirit. "We couldn't beat you last year, Wayne," Lambert retorted, "but you won't have it so easy this time."

He glanced at Geralt and Eskel, a sly grin spreading across his face. "How about we take you on one by one, no weapons, no signs, just fists, until only one man is left standing?"

Wayne laughed, meeting Geralt and Eskel's gaze. Without hesitation, he agreed. He shed his dragonscale armor and enchanted shirt, removed his adamantium gauntlet, and wrapped a bandage around his exposed left hand. Stepping into a clear space in the hall, he addressed his companions with a smile.

"Come on, Geralt, Eskel, Lambert. I haven't had a proper fistfight since my mutations, and haven't learned any formal unarmed combat techniques. This is your chance to teach me a lesson."

The others accepted the challenge. They followed suit, removing their shirts to reveal their own honed muscles. Wrapping their hands in bandages, they advanced towards Wayne without a word, ready to unleash their fury.

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

The witchers moved with swift, brutal efficiency. As Wayne focused on Lambert, Geralt and Eskel landed blows to his stomach and chest. The sound of fist meeting flesh echoed through the hall. Wayne, caught off guard, stumbled back. The punches weren't overly painful, but they disoriented him.

He'd made eye contact with Geralt and Eskel, assuming they were on the same page. He thought they were strategizing together, planning to outsmart Lambert. But they'd taken him by surprise.

Lambert, having landed a successful blow, gloated, "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

"We agreed to teach you a lesson," he continued. "You haven't faced a real challenge since you left, haven't experienced the true limits of combat. Now you'll learn what it's like when your strength isn't enough to turn the tide. Consider this a lesson in the harsh realities of life, a duty we elders must fulfill."

The three witchers, smug with their successful ambush, grinned and launched a coordinated assault on Wayne.

Within moments, Wayne realized his miscalculation. He'd overestimated his own abilities. Three seasoned witchers were a far cry from a single opponent, even with his superior strength and speed. He lacked experience in close-quarters combat, and the trio's teamwork and experience left few openings to exploit.

Lambert, true to his reputation, had embraced his inner rogue. Despite the agreement for a boxing match, he incorporated grappling, chokeholds, and even the occasional leg sweep into his attacks. It was dirty fighting, but effective.

The three witchers, working in unison, proved to be a formidable challenge for Wayne. They battled back and forth across the hall for half an hour, leaving Wayne covered in bruises and aching. Had he not possessed exceptional willpower, a robust physique, and a high pain tolerance, he would have succumbed to the relentless onslaught of these seasoned veterans.

Lambert's words rang true. Due to the system's blessings, Wayne's life had been relatively smooth sailing. He'd suffered fewer injuries in recent years than he had in this single sparring session. He'd almost forgotten the feeling of pain.

While avoiding injury might seem ideal, it was a double-edged sword. A warrior who hadn't endured pain and hardship lacked the resilience forged in the crucible of adversity.

Finally, after being cornered and pummeled for over ten minutes, Wayne collapsed, his stamina depleted. While he bore the most visible injuries, Geralt and the others weren't unscathed.

Eskel, in particular, was worse for wear. He'd borne the brunt of Wayne's attacks, and despite his endurance, Wayne's superior strength had taken a toll. While Wayne had simply collapsed from exhaustion, Eskel was forced to the ground, clutching his bruised ribs.

Geralt and Lambert weren't much better off. Though their injuries were less severe, Wayne had focused his attacks on their faces. Lambert sported a swollen, pig-like visage and spoke with a nasal twang, while Geralt's black eyes added a comical touch to his usually stoic expression.

Once all four were sprawled on the floor, Vesemir approached, a thoughtful look on his face. He assessed their injuries, offering a critique of their fighting styles, then turned to Wayne.

"Alright, lad," Vesemir conceded, "you've proven your strength and resolve. Your physique is indeed superior to ours. If you insist on the transplant, be prepared. I'll perform the operation in three days."

Wayne grinned at the old witcher, wincing as he moved his bruised muscles. "No problem, teacher. Don't worry. I brought back special medicine that can heal even fatal wounds. Operate without hesitation."

He took a swig from a vial of Medium Healing Potion, the wounds on his body visibly knitting themselves back together. He then tossed the vial to the other three.

"Brothers!" he called out, "I had a blast today. Let's make this a daily after-dinner ritual, a form of training. Hahaha!"

Geralt, taking the vial and noting Wayne's bruised yet cheerful demeanor, followed suit with a hearty gulp. He exchanged a knowing look with Lambert and Eskel, a shared sense of foreboding settling upon them.

In the days that followed, Wayne held true to his promise. Every evening after dinner, he'd drag his fellow witchers into sparring matches, focusing on hand-to-hand combat. Afterward, they'd all gulp down the bitter healing potion, their battered bodies mending.

It wasn't that Wayne enjoyed the punishment, but he recognized the value in the sense of urgency and crisis he felt when facing the trio's onslaught. It was a unique opportunity to improve his skills. Few other places offered such trustworthy sparring partners who could match his intensity. Either the skill level was lacking, or the trust wasn't there.

Wayne believed that once he adapted to the relentless pressure of Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert, he'd be better prepared to face multiple skilled opponents in the future, perhaps even turning the tables on them.

He approached this training with fervor, constantly introducing variations. They progressed from bare-handed combat to using wooden swords, incorporating tactics, changing locations, and even employing non-lethal spells.

Wayne wasn't the only one improving. The other witchers, pushed by his relentless drive, grew stronger as well. They learned how to face an opponent with overwhelming strength and speed, how to cooperate effectively, and how to leverage their own advantages to bridge the gap.

Amidst this intense training, Vesemir quietly prepared everything for the mutation experiment. Wayne, trusting the old witcher implicitly, laid down on the table, was injected with an anesthetic, and awoke to find the Greater Blue Mutagen successfully transplanted into his body.

A strange sensation spread from the transplant site, engulfing Wayne's entire body. He could feel his blood, cells, muscles, even his genes, undergoing a profound transformation.

Surprisingly, as the Greater Blue Mutagen integrated, his Sign and Mutation levels rapidly increased. In less than a month, his Sign proficiency surged from 10% at level 9 to level 10, nearly reaching level 11—almost two levels higher.

His Mutation level also skyrocketed, from around 80% at level 7 to 90% at level 9, a mere 10% away from unlocking new skills and abilities.

Beyond the system data, Wayne could feel his spellcasting prowess growing stronger, his reservoir of Chaos energy expanding by roughly a quarter. This reinforced his belief that Greater Mutagens were exceptionally well-suited to witcher mutations. According to Vesemir, a witcher could typically handle three different mutagens.

Geralt, for example, had undergone enhancements from both Green and Blue Greater Mutagens. Hence, despite his laid-back demeanor, when pushed, Geralt could unleash formidable power, making him arguably the strongest witcher alive, aside from the unpredictable Wayne.

Along with the Blue Mutagen's enhancements, reaching Sign level 10 unlocked new skills and abilities within the system.

He was once again presented with two options, but the emergence of these two abilities left Wayne in a quandary.

Master of Signs: As a seasoned witcher, you've fully mastered the power of Signs. When using them, you're no longer bound by rigid formulas, but can wield their power in more flexible and adaptable ways.

Effect: Enables flexible use of Signs in various ways. The deeper your understanding, the wider the range of applications.

Transformation of Magic Power: Extensive use of Signs has granted you a deep understanding of magical energy. You can now absorb and utilize magical energy from other worlds, not just Chaos.

Effect: Sense magic from other worlds, increase the conversion rate of different magical energies. The deeper your understanding of other magic types, the higher the conversion efficiency.

These two abilities, unlocked at Sign level 10, didn't offer concrete numerical improvements. Instead, they provided two distinct paths for his Signs to evolve. The first deepened his understanding and application of Signs, expanding their potential uses. Igni might no longer be limited to a simple fire blast, but could create fiery traps or enchant weapons with flame. Yrden might evolve beyond slowing foes, perhaps immobilizing them or performing other magical feats.

The second ability, however, was even more fundamental. It addressed the very source of his Sign casting: Chaos energy. Traditionally, only Chaos energy could fuel Signs. In Azeroth, he'd barely managed to convert arcane magic into Chaos. In Middle-earth, he'd resorted to consuming food and potions to replenish his energy.

It wasn't an issue in low-magic worlds, but in high-magic settings, such a slow recovery rate could cripple his abilities, reducing him to a mere swordsman. In a dangerous encounter, this weakened state could easily prove fatal.

For now, Wayne avoided lingering in high-magic worlds or putting himself in perilous situations. But the choice remained. If he could sense and utilize otherworldly magic, perhaps he could even learn spells unique to those realms.