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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
1248, Kaer Morhen.
"Hold on Wayne, just hold on a little longer, and you'll make it,"
An old voice filled with anxiety reached Wayne's ears. However, at that moment, Wayne couldn't focus on the voice at all. He was overwhelmed by excruciating pain coursing through his entire body.
It felt as if countless venomous snakes and scorpions were relentlessly biting him, injecting their poisons.
His body seemed to be under assault, and his muscles appeared to dissolve, only to be forcibly molded back into their original shape. In addition to the severe pain, his limbs were completely numb.
Enduring this inhumane torture, Wayne could faintly hear the voice of an elderly man beside him. It was as if the old man was guiding him on how to regain control of his body and offering words of encouragement to persevere.
The agony was so intense that Wayne howled uncontrollably. After enduring it for more than ten minutes, he eventually succumbed to unconsciousness.
Time passed indistinctly, and Wayne gradually felt a slight improvement in his condition.
Summoning all his strength, he opened his eyes to a scene of a stone ceiling covered in moss and cobwebs. Even moving his head was a herculean effort due to the exhaustion of his physical strength.
Upon closer inspection, Wayne deduced that he was in a structure resembling an ancient castle, constructed from stone.
Besides the wooden bed he was on, there were tables adorned with glass test tubes, tweezers, crucibles, and various other experimental equipment. The room exuded a cold, damp atmosphere that hinted that its a basement-like location.
Before Wayne could continue observing, an intense, tearing pain shot through his brain, causing him to cry out,
"Ah! ~Ah!"
The pain was fleeting, and within a minute, Wayne's mind calmed down. Suddenly, the memory of a half-elf boy flooded his mind, along with related information about cheat.
Wayne (14 years old)
Occupation: Witcher
Level: Level 1 (0/100)
Attributes: Strength 13, Dexterity 18, Constitution 15, Spirit 18.
Skills: Swordsmanship LV1, Seal LV1, Gene Mutation LV1.
Special bloodline: Ancient blood (weak, unawakened) requires ten ability points
to activate.
Subsidiary Skills: Archery LV1, Cooking LV1
The memories revealed Wayne's identity as a 14-year-old Witcher, with specific attributes, skills, and an ancient bloodline that required ten ability points to activate, and this was the world of the Witcher.
Before Wayne could fully process his situation, a heavy footstep approached from outside the room, and a few moments later, a dignified, kindly old man in worn iron armor entered. Witnessing Wayne waking up, the old man couldn't help but break into a relieved smile.
He carried a bowl of cooked vegetable soup from a nearby table, took a seat beside Wayne's bed, and spoke with emotion,
"You're finally awake, kid. It's a relief that you're still alive."
Reflecting on the memories in his mind, Wayne gazed at the old man's face, which held a hint of sadness. After a moment of hesitation, Wayne hoarsely inquired,
"Vesemir, am I the only one who survived?"
Upon hearing this, the old man closed his eyes and sighed, gently stroking Wayne's hair. He replied with a heavy tone,
"Yes, out of several children, you are the only one who survived. The Grass Trial's mutation process is far too perilous.
"without the help of a witch to stabilize the process, the failure rate is unacceptably high."
Looking at Wayne, who had narrowly escaped death, Vesemir seemed to have reached a decision, and his tone became more somber as he remarked,
"The Witcher trial is too dangerous. Perhaps, after you, Kaer Morhen may never see new Witchers."
.....
A month later, in Kaer Morhen's training ground, Wayne faced a wooden dummy in the early morning light. With an unsharpened steel sword in hand, he diligently practiced the sword skills of a Witcher, delivering blows with precision and speed.
Tossing and turning, chopping and stabbing constantly, with the heavy steel sword in his hand, each blow was fast and hard, cutting the dummy made of hard wood into many dents.
After practicing for two hours, Wayne finally heard the strange voice in his head again until his whole body was sweating, his hands and feet were weak, and his muscles were slightly sore.
Sword skill proficiency +1, current progress: 36.
Swordsmanship LV1: Swordsmanship power +5%
Afterward, Wayne ventured back into Kaer Morhen's castle, where he found the elderly Witcher Vesemir dozing in a wooden armchair with a stack of thick books beside him.
A fond smile tugged at Wayne's lips. Over the past month, Vesemir had not only imparted Witcher skills but also valuable life lessons, providing Wayne with a sense of stability in this unfamiliar world.
As a witcherr with centuries of experience, Vesemir was a living relic in the world of Witchers and highly respected among the Wolf School. Wayne didn't disturb the old Witcher's slumber and proceeded upstairs to his room for a refreshing cold shower.
The room was sparsely furnished, reflecting the modesty of life in the Middle Ages. As Wayne donned clean clothes, he gazed at his own reflection in the mirror. Apart from his distinctive amber cat eyes and pointed ears, he appeared like an ordinary teenager.
He sighed, acknowledging that his previous life as a successful archery sports student had been tragically cut short by a fatal accident.
Contrastingly, Wayne's current life was no less challenging, as his newfound memories revealed. He was a half-elf boy named Wayne, raised by an elf prostitute named Martha in the slums of Vizima City.
His father's identity remained a mystery, even to Martha herself. Wayne's early years were spent in a brothel until his mother fell seriously ill, and they were cast out.
Upon her death, Wayne was entrusted to the passing Witcher Vesemir, who had been training him at Kaer Morhen for six years.
Initially, there were six children who began training alongside Wayne, but due to the absence of warlocks during the Grass Trial, Wayne emerged as the sole survivor.
He knew that his survival had been a matter of chance, and without his unexpected arrival, none of the children would have lived.
As Wayne contemplated his past and the uncertainties of his future as a Witcher, he understood that Kaer Morhen would only see new Witchers many decades later when his journey truly began.
