Capter 1

1248, Kaer Morhen.

"Hold on, Wayne, just a little longer, and you'll make it," a worried, elderly voice urged. But Wayne couldn't focus on the words; his entire being was consumed by excruciating pain. It felt as if countless venomous snakes and scorpions were tearing into his flesh, injecting their deadly poisons.

His muscles seemed to disintegrate, only to be forcibly reconstructed. His limbs were numb, rendering him helpless against the agony. Despite this, Wayne faintly heard the old man beside him, offering guidance and encouragement to regain control of his body.

The torture was so unbearable that Wayne howled in pain. After enduring the torment for over ten minutes, he finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

Time passed in a blur, and Wayne eventually noticed a slight improvement in his condition. Gathering all his strength, he forced his eyes open, seeing a stone ceiling draped with moss and cobwebs. Even turning his head required immense effort, as his body was utterly exhausted.

He deduced he was in a stone structure, perhaps an ancient castle. Besides the wooden bed he lay on, there were tables cluttered with glass test tubes, tweezers, crucibles, and other alchemical equipment. The room had a cold, damp atmosphere, reminiscent of a basement.

Before he could continue his observations, a sharp, tearing pain shot through his brain, causing him to cry out, "Ah! Ah!"

The pain subsided as quickly as it came, leaving Wayne's mind to settle. Suddenly, memories flooded his mind—those of a half-elf boy and the presence of a cheat system.

The system has levels which increases the attributes as level increases .

Also like a gamer, but much weaker , it has function of leveling up a skill with repetition and practice, the skill level up grants extra knowledge , instincts and improvements to host .

Also , the skill present on the system panel provides buffs and other special buffs . 

There is also a quest function in system.

Wayne (14 years old)

Occupation: Witcher

Level: 1 (0/100)

Attributes: Strength 13, Dexterity 18, Constitution 15, Spirit 18

Skills: Swordsmanship LV1, Sign Magic LV1, Gene Mutation LV1

Special Bloodline: Weak Elder Blood (Dormant, requires 10 ability points to awaken)

Subsidiary Skills: Archery LV1, Cooking LV1

The memories revealed Wayne's identity as a 14-year-old Witcher, complete with specific attributes, skills, and an ancient bloodline. He was indeed in the world of The Witcher.

Before Wayne could fully process his situation, he heard heavy footsteps approaching. Moments later, a dignified, kindly old man in worn iron armor entered. Upon seeing Wayne awake, the old man smiled with relief. He carried a bowl of vegetable soup from a nearby table, sat 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 looked at the old man's face, which bore a hint of sadness. After a moment's hesitation, Wayne asked hoarsely, "Vesemir, am I the only one who survived?"

The old man closed his eyes and sighed, gently stroking Wayne's hair. "Yes, out of several children, you're the only one who survived. The Trial of the Grasses is far too perilous. Without the help of a sorceress to stabilize the process, the failure rate is unacceptably high."

Vesemir gazed at Wayne, who had narrowly escaped death. After a moment, he added somberly, "The Witcher trials are too dangerous. Perhaps, after you, Kaer Morhen will never see new Witchers again."

A month later, at Kaer Morhen's training grounds, Wayne stood before a wooden dummy in the early morning light. With an unsharpened steel sword in hand, he practiced the sword skills of a Witcher, striking with precision and speed. Each blow he delivered was fast and hard, leaving dents in the tough wooden dummy.

After two hours of practice, Wayne's body was drenched in sweat, his limbs weak, and his muscles slightly sore. He heard the familiar voice in his head again:

Swordsmanship Proficiency +1, Current Progress: 36%

Swordsmanship LV1: Swordsmanship Power +5%

Wayne returned to Kaer Morhen's castle, where he found the elderly Witcher Vesemir dozing in a wooden armchair beside a stack of thick books. A fond smile tugged at Wayne's lips. Over the past month, Vesemir had not only taught him Witcher skills but also valuable life lessons, providing Wayne with a sense of stability in this unfamiliar world.

As a Witcher with centuries of experience, Vesemir was a living legend within the Wolf School. Wayne didn't disturb the old man's rest and instead headed upstairs to his room for a refreshing cold shower.

The room was sparsely furnished, reflecting the modesty of life in the medieval world. After donning clean clothes, Wayne gazed at his reflection in the mirror. Apart from his distinctive amber cat-like eyes and pointed ears, he looked 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. In contrast, Wayne's current life was no less challenging, as his newfound memories revealed. He was a half-elf boy named Wayne, raised by an elven prostitute named Martha in the slums of Vizima City.

His father's identity remained a mystery, even to Martha herself. Wayne had spent his early years 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 then trained him at Kaer Morhen for six years from swordsmanship , to basic herbs , hunting , cooking , wildlife survival , writing.

Initially, six children had begun training alongside Wayne, but due to the absence of sorceresses during the Trial of the Grasses, 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.

In the kitchen of Kaer Morhen, Wayne, now dressed in clean clothes, prepared breakfast for himself and Vesemir. Suddenly, he heard a notification:

"Cooking proficiency +1, current progress 100.

Cooking LV1 is upgraded to Cooking LV2.

Cooking LV2: cooking delicacy +2."

Hearing this prompt, Wayne's mood immediately brightened. Through his exploration, he had discovered that the system not only improved his Witcher skills but also allowed him to acquire additional abilities such as archery, cooking, and hunting. These subsidiary skills could be strengthened just like his primary Witcher abilities.

In his previous life, Wayne's father had been a professional chef, which had instilled in him a talent for culinary arts. Now, these skills were being recognized and enhanced by the system. This was undoubtedly a blessing.

Wayne's positive mood was reflected in his rapid progress with cooking. Unlike swordsmanship, which was challenging to improve, Wayne's cooking skills advanced quickly—likely due to his past experience. In just one month, he had progressed from level one to level two. The improvement in delicacy also enhanced the flavor of his meals, earning praise from Vesemir.

As Wayne entered the castle hall with a fragrant breakfast, Vesemir was still dozing in his armchair. However, the aroma of the food roused him from his slumber. His nose twitched, and he greeted Wayne with enthusiasm:

"Well, freshly baked wheat bread, fried eggs, grilled fish with pine nuts, and fragrant mushroom broth. I'll bet that even the finest folks in the city can't dine better than us."

"Wayne, I didn't expect you to be such a talented cook. I've traveled to many places, and perhaps only noble chefs could rival your skills."

Wayne, pleased by Vesemir's compliments, handed him a plate of breakfast. Vesemir continued to praise him, and Wayne responded with a smile:

"Vesemir, I truly enjoy the satisfaction of savoring delicious food. Ensuring I absorb enough nutrients gives me the strength to continue my Witcher training."

Vesemir nodded in approval but couldn't help expressing an observation:

"Wayne, your personality seems to have undergone a significant change after the Trial of the Grasses. You've become more cheerful and optimistic than before."

"In this aspect, you differ from many others. The ordeal of the trial has left a shadow in their hearts, making them more reserved and extreme."

Wayne had already prepared an answer for this question. After a moment of apparent contemplation, he responded:

"I'm not entirely sure why, but after facing the brink of death during the trial, I feel compelled to be braver, embrace life more positively, and avoid any regrets."

Vesemir, upon hearing this, nodded thoughtfully, visibly relieved by Wayne's newfound positivity. Nevertheless, he offered a word of caution:

"Wayne, do not let your past hold you back. Courage is a virtue, but excessive bravery can lead to recklessness. Now, after breakfast, let's begin your training."

Witchers are not professionals who rely solely on brute force. They are experts in hunting monsters. In addition to their sword skills and signs, they need to learn a vast amount of knowledge—especially after the Conjunction of the Spheres, which brought monsters from other worlds into this one. The influence of chaotic magic also caused various creatures in this world to undergo changes.

In the Witcher world, there are hundreds of different monsters, ranging from powerful dragons, giants, and demons to weaker creatures like drowners and goblins. Each monster has its own specific abilities. If you can't figure out the abilities and weaknesses of these monsters, even experienced Witchers can easily die during a mission.

In addition to sword skills and magic, Witchers need extensive knowledge of various monsters, their abilities, and weaknesses.

Wayne's daily routine was packed with training sessions, including swordsmanship, physical fitness, and magical abilities—all of which demanded rigorous dedication. Wayne's instruction would continue for about three to six years, depending on his progress. Only once he had completed all his Witcher training would he be permitted to embark on missions independently.

During this period, Vesemir spent more than half of each year specifically mentoring Wayne. Apprentice Witchers were precious assets to the School of the Wolf, requiring significant investments of time and resources. As the Witcher profession waned, new Witchers had become increasingly scarce.

...

At dusk, after completing a day of physical training, Wayne returned to Kaer Morhen's training ground. Under the dim sunlight, Vesemir was quietly sitting cross-legged on a stone slab, seemingly meditating.

Sensing Wayne's arrival, the old Witcher opened his eyes, his slightly cloudy cat pupils reflecting the fading light. He looked at Wayne and then pointed to a stone slab on the ground opposite him, saying:

"Come on, kid, let's start today's sign practice."

Wayne wiped the sweat from his brow and obediently sat down in front of Vesemir. However, his eyes were involuntarily drawn to the wolf-headed Witcher medallion wrapped around the old man's hand.

Noticing his gaze, a smile appeared on Vesemir's usually serious face. He reached out, handed the medallion to Wayne, and said with emotion:

"This is the medallion of an old friend of mine. He was a powerful Witcher. He died at the hands of a Leshen due to a faulty intelligence report more than 200 years ago."

"When I found him, his flesh had been eaten away by wild beasts in the forest, leaving only his equipment intact."

"Originally, I planned to wait for your body to fully stabilize before giving it to you. But since you've passed the Witcher trial, it's time for you to have a medallion of your own, belonging to the School of the Wolf."

"Remember, boy, we Witchers are not heroes, and we never were. No matter the battle, only by being cautious can we live longer."

Seeing Vesemir's expectant eyes, Wayne reached out excitedly and took the silver-white Wolf School Witcher medallion. The moment his fingers touched the medallion, the system in his mind suddenly sent a message:

Ding! The Trial of the Grasses has been completed, and the mission system is activated.

Hearing the system prompt, Wayne was overjoyed. However, he didn't try to explore the system immediately. Instead, he solemnly placed the Wolf School medallion around his neck, stood up, and bowed slightly to the old Witcher, saying with a serious expression, "Thank you, Vesemir. I won't let you down."

The old Witcher stared at the medallion on Wayne's neck for a few seconds before sighing. "Wayne, our School of the Wolf follows the principle of neutrality. The purpose of becoming a Witcher is to destroy monsters, not to use our power to meddle in worldly affairs or power struggles."

"My expectation for you is not to become a powerful or influential Witcher. I hope you can live safely for hundreds of years, instead of dying because of a momentary conflict."

Neutrality? Wayne nodded thoughtfully. This was indeed the path that Witchers of the Wolf School had always followed.

After a few moments of silence, Wayne took the opportunity to check the mission system he had just unlocked. Within seconds, he realized that, for over a month, despite all his training, he hadn't earned any experience points from his Witcher lessons. It turned out that to gain experience points, one had to complete Witcher contracts. Only after receiving the medallion and becoming a true Witcher could the mission system activate. His cheat system was finally starting to show its worth.

According to the mission system's description, Witcher contracts were divided into four levels: normal, expert, master, and epic. Each level's tasks varied in difficulty, and the rewards for completing them differed accordingly. Regardless of the task's difficulty, he could only accept one mission per day, and the mission list could hold up to ten tasks at a time.

With this in mind, Wayne raised his head and looked at the old Witcher, who had adjusted his mood and was preparing to teach him Signs. "Master, may I ask you something?"

Vesemir looked at Wayne with his slightly cloudy, cat-like pupils for a few seconds. He was a patient elder, not a strict teacher. "What's on your mind, boy? What's troubling you?"

Wayne hesitated briefly, then asked with a hint of pleading, "For today's Sign practice, could you set a goal for me, like giving me a task? And after I complete the goal, could you reward me with something, like a book, some alchemical materials, or even just verbal praise?"

Hearing this, the old Witcher looked puzzled and inquired about Wayne's reasoning.

Scratching his head as if embarrassed, Wayne replied with a shy expression, "I feel that if you set goals for me, I'll be more motivated to study and more efficient. Please, Master, if you give me a training goal every day, you'll clearly see my progress."

Faced with this unusual request, Vesemir only pondered for a few seconds before agreeing. Stroking his beard, he said, "Very well, if you can successfully cast all five Signs during today's training, I'll give you a reward."

As soon as Vesemir finished speaking, Wayne immediately heard the system's prompt:

Task triggered: [Training Mission] Successfully cast five Signs during training—Normal Level.

Accept/Decline.

Without hesitation, Wayne accepted the task. As he did, the mission appeared in his task list, allowing him to check it at any time.

This discovery filled him with joy. The system was crucial to his growth in strength and survival in this dangerous and wild world. Now that he had figured out how to accept missions, his power would undoubtedly increase more rapidly.

With this thought, Wayne smiled brightly at his teacher and said sincerely, "Thank you, Master. Having this goal really fills me with energy."

Vesemir, unaware of Wayne's inner thoughts, couldn't help but feel his own mood lift upon seeing Wayne's genuine smile. The old man unconsciously returned the smile and said, "Alright, kid, it's time to start today's Sign training."

Hearing this, Wayne immediately straightened up. He took every training session seriously, never slacking off. As someone with a background in sports, he knew that if you didn't train hard regularly, you couldn't succeed when it really mattered.

As the saying goes, sweat more in training, bleed less in battle.

Moreover, Signs were vital to Witchers. Without Signs and various potions, a Witcher was little more than an ordinary swordsman.

"Wayne, there are five Signs that Witchers of the Wolf School frequently use. You've learned them before. Now, tell me, what are they?"

Wayne didn't need to think; he immediately recited, "Igni, the Sign of fire. Quen, the defensive Sign. Axii, for mind attack. Aard, the telekinetic thrust. Yrden, the magic trap."

Vesemir nodded approvingly. "These five Signs can be cast with one hand, which doesn't interfere with swordsmanship. But there's also a two-handed Sign that's less commonly used—the Heliotrope Sign. It can defend against spellcaster attacks."

"However, it's quite challenging to cast. I'll teach it to you later, after you've fully mastered the five one-handed Signs."

"Come on, Wayne, successfully casting these five Signs is still a bit difficult for you. My task isn't going to be easy to complete."

Upon hearing this, Wayne immediately stood and moved to the center of the training ground. The way Witchers cast Signs was different from how sorcerers, druids, and mages cast spells. Those spellcasters were born with a natural talent for magic and were favored by the chaotic forces of the world.

They released magic primarily through their own spirit and the magic within their bodies, commanding and manipulating the chaotic magic around them to form powerful spells. This method of casting had high environmental requirements. The more chaotic magic in the surroundings, the stronger their spells. This was also why they became powerless when faced with anti-magic fields.

Wayne listened attentively as Vesemir began explaining the principles behind a witcher's spellcasting, a stark contrast to the methods used by sorcerers and other magic users. Unlike those born with innate magical talents, every witcher must endure the Trial of the Grasses, a brutal process involving repeated doses of mutagenic potions. Many children don't survive their first dose, their bodies unable to withstand the excruciating pain of the mutation. Even with the help of a sorceress, the survival rate remains tragically low.

As these children grow into witchers, their organs undergo severe mutations, adapting to the chaotic magic. These changes not only enhance their physical abilities—strength, speed, endurance—but also allow them to metabolize and store magic power, which they use to cast Signs. This process also makes witchers more resistant to anti-magic effects, unlike traditional spellcasters who are severely weakened when deprived of chaotic magic.

However, the benefits come with significant drawbacks. The pain and suffering endured during the Trial of the Grasses often lead to psychological distortions, and the mutations drastically affect the production of hormones, impairing certain bodily functions. Many witchers are left emotionally detached, and though their lifespan can extend for centuries, their bodies are fundamentally altered. They cannot have children, and it's questionable whether they can still be considered fully human.

Standing in the center of the training ground, Wayne took a deep breath. As a half-elf, he had a slight advantage in agility and mental acuity. With the spiritual connection of two souls, he could clearly feel the flow of magic within him when he focused. Following Vesemir's instructions, Wayne fixed his gaze on the wooden dummy, concentrated his mind, and channeled the magic power in his body. He formed the Sign of Igni with his left hand and gently pushed the energy towards the dummy.

In an instant, he felt the magic within him surge, transforming into a searing heat that traveled up his arm and burst forth from his palm. A brilliant yellow flame shot out, exploding in the air. Though the fireball was only the size of a watermelon and traveled less than half a meter, it was still his first successful attempt at casting Igni. The display of talent caught Vesemir's attention.

"Don't get too cocky, boy," Vesemir said with a slight cough, noticing Wayne's elation. "You have a natural talent for Signs, but I've seen many witchers with your potential over the centuries."

Wayne quickly reined in his excitement. He had endured the painful Trial of the Grasses and had become a witcher, but until now, his experience of magic had been limited to the physical enhancement it provided. Casting Igni with his own hands allowed him to truly feel the power of magic.

With renewed determination, Wayne successfully cast the remaining four Signs—Quen, Axii, Aard, and Yrden—on his first try. Vesemir was both pleased and concerned. As the mentor of the School of the Wolf, he wished for a powerful witcher to emerge from the school, but his centuries of experience had taught him that those with extraordinary talent often faced the most hardships and, too often, met untimely deaths. Genius came with its own set of challenges, and only a few could survive long enough to achieve greatness.

Despite Vesemir's concerns, Wayne was thrilled by his success. He had not only demonstrated his magical aptitude but also heard the system's prompt after completing the five Signs.

Sign Proficiency +1. Current Progress: 1. Sign LV1: Sign Strength +5%.

Wayne noted that improving his proficiency in Signs seemed easier than mastering swordsmanship. Unlike swordplay, which was influenced by age and physical development, Signs offered offense, defense, control, and traps, all while being relatively simple to use. Wayne decided to prioritize his training in Signs, believing that gaining self-protection skills quickly was crucial. After all, as a witcher, he had plenty of time to refine his sword skills.

With the completion of the task, Wayne smiled at Vesemir and said, "Teacher, I've completed your task. May I have my reward now?"

Looking at Wayne's rare, genuine smile—a sight uncommon among witchers—Vesemir momentarily set aside his worries and returned the smile with a nod of approval. He reached behind his waist, retrieving a simple dagger in its sheath, and handed it to Wayne.

"Wayne, this is a meteoric iron dagger, a gift from a master blacksmith. It can easily cut through even the hardest monster hides," Vesemir said. "I originally intended to give it to you on your birthday, but since you performed so well today, you've earned it early."

Wayne accepted the dagger with excitement, and the system promptly notified him that the task was completed.

Normal Level [Training Mission]: Completed. Reward: 3 Experience Points, One Common Treasure Chest. Common Treasure Chest: Contains random amounts of gold or ordinary-level items.

Though the rewards seemed modest, Wayne wasn't disappointed. He knew that with consistent training, he could accumulate experience points steadily. If he continued to receive training tasks from Vesemir every day, it would take roughly a month to level up, which felt like good progress.

Setting aside the meteoric iron dagger, Wayne wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "Teacher, let me meditate for a few minutes, then we can continue practicing. I'm not afraid of hard work—please don't hold back, and use the strictest standards with me."

Seeing that Wayne wasn't arrogant despite his talent and was eager for more rigorous training, Vesemir nodded in approval. The smile on his face quickly turned stern as he said in a scolding tone, "Successfully casting a Sign is just the basics of a witcher's training. You still have a long way to go in terms of casting speed and timing."

"Next, I will teach you strictly."

Life at Kaer Morhen was straightforward, with Wayne immersing himself in various Witcher training routines, driven by the system rewards he earned. His dedication was relentless, often leading him to forget about sleep and food as he focused on his training. This repetitive yet satisfying lifestyle made time fly by, and before Wayne realized it, summer had given way to early winter. It had now been nearly four months since he arrived in this world.

During this time, Wayne maximized every moment, ensuring no time was wasted. He concentrated on refining his skills and consistently completed the standard training tasks assigned by Vesemir. At the age of 14, Wayne had made remarkable strides in his Witcher training:

Wayne (14 years old)

Occupation: Witcher

Level: 3 (63/300)

Ability Points: 2

Attributes: Strength 15, Dexterity 20, Constitution 17, Spirit 20

Skills: Swordsmanship LV2, Signs LV2, Gene Mutation LV1

Special Bloodline: Elder Blood (dormant, unawakened), requires ten ability points to activate

Subsidiary Skills: Archery LV1, Cooking LV3, Gardening LV1

Wayne's hard work not only enhanced his physical attributes but also rewarded him with two valuable ability points. According to the system's instructions, these points were precious and could be allocated to improve his physical attributes or increase his skill levels. Wayne eagerly anticipated the day he could unlock special professional abilities using these points, as the system hinted that once a skill reached a certain threshold, professional specialties could be unlocked with ability points.

Wayne was excited about this prospect and decided to save his ability points for future use.

One evening, Wayne, as usual, left Kaer Morhen's castle in a cheerful mood after completing his daily physical training. Apart from training, his favorite pastime was gathering wild game and ingredients around the castle to prepare meals for himself and Vesemir. The creek, less than 300 meters from the castle, was a prime spot for this. As the nearest water source to Kaer Morhen, Wayne had set up several fishing traps along the river, often catching small fish and shrimp. He also cultivated a vegetable garden on a flat piece of land near the creek.

In his previous life, Wayne had been a country boy. Although he wasn't a professional gardener, he was familiar with the basics and did a decent job. Vesemir was pleasantly surprised by Wayne's efforts and even joked that Wayne might be the first Witcher in thousands of years to enjoy farming.

But Wayne didn't mind the jest. Life in this medieval world was tough, and without adding some enjoyment, the long life of a Witcher would be unbearably dull.

As Wayne carried a few small fish strung together on a straw rope and gathered some fresh vegetables from his garden, he was heading back to the castle when he suddenly heard the sound of heavy footsteps.

Startled, Wayne assumed that some drowners had wandered up from the creek. He quickly set down the ingredients, drew his still-unopened steel sword, and prepared to face the source of the noise.

However, what appeared before him, about 20 meters away, wasn't a drowner. Instead, it was a man wearing light armor of the Wolf School, carrying two swords on his back and leading a dark brown steed loaded with bundles.

The man was striking, with white-silver hair, several scars on his face, and a pair of golden eyes typical of Witchers. Upon seeing Wayne, the man attempted a smile, though it came off slightly stiff on his otherwise stern face. His voice was hoarse as he greeted Wayne:

"Long time no see, Wayne."

However, when he noticed the pair of beast-like pupils unique to Witchers in Wayne's eyes, he paused, and then his smile grew warmer.

"It seems our Wolf School has gained a new Witcher," he remarked. "Where are the other children?"

With just one glance, Wayne recognized the man. It was Geralt of Rivia, the protagonist of the novels and game trilogy, and the future legendary Witcher of the Wolf School. However, this was long before those future events. At this point, Geralt hadn't even met Yennefer, and Ciri, the Child of Destiny, who would one day shake the world, had not yet been born.

Everyone at Kaer Morhen was Vesemir's apprentice, so naturally, Geralt knew of Wayne. But until now, Wayne had been just another one of the younger kids, too young to spend much time with Geralt, so they weren't well-acquainted.

Upon hearing Geralt ask about the other children, Wayne responded sadly, "They didn't survive the final trial. I was the only one."

Geralt's expression darkened briefly at the news, but he quickly composed himself. He looked up at Kaer Morhen's castle, patted his horse, and said to Wayne, "Don't dwell too much on the past, Wayne. It's fate's decision, and no one can change it. I've brought back plenty of food and supplies. This winter, I'll be staying here at the castle. Let's have a feast tonight."

Wayne, who had little memory of the other children and thus felt no deep sorrow, nodded and replied, "Indeed, it's been over half a year since we last met. My cooking skills have improved since then. Tonight, I'll show you what I can do."

…

Wayne smiled modestly and took a sip of the juice Geralt had brought back. It had a sweet and sour flavor, with a subtle bitterness from its raw ingredients, creating a pleasant taste. Despite Geralt's somewhat stoic appearance, Wayne recognized his genuine kindness and sense of justice. While purchasing supplies for the castle, Geralt had even thought of the children, buying fruit juice for them, although Wayne was the only one left to enjoy it now.

As the dinner conversation between Vesemir and Geralt continued, it revolved around the current situation in the northern regions. At this time, Nilfgaard had not yet launched its initial invasion, and the north remained mired in a chaotic quagmire of small-scale conflicts among various kings and nobles, often driven by self-interest and territorial disputes. These minor skirmishes occasionally resulted in bloodshed, village plundering, and hastily made agreements to settle disputes. Vesemir and Geralt, however, remained disinterested in the politics of kings and were more concerned with identifying regions where conflicts had led to increased monster activity.

In this era, the life of a witcher was far from luxurious. Their work was often grueling, dirty, and life-threatening, requiring them to confront the most dangerous creatures. Most witchers adhered to principles and traditions, using their skills to rid the world of malicious beasts and monsters.

Eventually, the conversation turned to Geralt's recent experiences. With Vesemir as his audience, Geralt candidly shared the tasks he had undertaken this year. Wayne listened attentively, his curiosity about the outside world growing with each story. However, as an apprentice witcher, Wayne was bound by tradition to complete his training and pass the witcher trials before he could venture beyond Kaer Morhen.

Geralt, taking another sip, gazed at the dishes before him, clearly relieved to be back at Kaer Morhen, where he could unwind. He hiccupped and said to Vesemir as if confiding:

"This year, a bard friend and I came across a magic lamp while fishing by the river."

"Three wishes can be fulfilled."

"I suspect that it is a Djinn who was sealed in an oil lamp."

"I was going to stop my friend from making a wish, but unfortunately, I was a step too late and hurt him."

Hearing this, Vesemir was intrigued. "What happened after that?"

Djinns are very rare and powerful elemental spirits, and there are not many records about them, but each one is highly magical. Most witchers will never come across such a thing in their lifetime.

Geralt took another sip of wine, his eyes a little dazed, as if he was missing someone. Wayne, who had read the original story, knew that this encounter led Geralt to meet his destined lover, Yennefer. The legendary white wolf fell in love with the sorceress at first sight.

Their love affair began with a series of twists and turns that spanned decades. Through numerous trials, Geralt and Yennefer weathered many storms, their relationship enduring even as the world around them faced turmoil. However, the ultimate conclusion of their love story is left in the hands of the players, to be decided in the Witcher game.

Geralt seemed about to share some of his struggles in love when the conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of two men arguing outside the castle hall. One voice was high-pitched and filled with complaints:

"I told you we should have left earlier. It's your fault for dawdling, and now we have to travel in the dark and face monsters on the way. It's miserable, and there probably won't be any hot water for a bath in the castle."

A deeper voice retorted, "Quit complaining, Lambert. You're not some noble. Do you expect such comforts? You've been grumbling the whole journey."

Wayne, Geralt, and Vesemir immediately recognized the voices and knew who was approaching. Shortly thereafter, the castle hall's doors swung open, revealing two witchers from the Wolf School, both clad in heavy armor. One was Lambert, a man with short hair and a scar on his eye, while the other, with a square face and half his face disfigured by a scar, was Eskel.

Lambert's eyes scanned the hall and landed on Wayne, understanding the situation. He spat on the floor and grumbled to Eskel, "I knew those kids wouldn't last. We're experienced witchers; we know how tough the Trial of the Grasses is for children. We should have let those kids go down the mountain, not made them witchers."

Eskel, empathizing with Lambert, patted him on the shoulder and replied, "Don't blame Vesemir for this. They were orphaned and abandoned by their parents in the war. Coming to Kaer Morhen was their destiny to become witchers."

Lambert mumbled under his breath, "Fate is a load of crap."

However, he didn't hold Vesemir accountable; instead, he pondered his own life's path. Being handed over to the Wolf School by his alcoholic father due to a twist of fate, Lambert knew the hardship of being a witcher all too well. Eskel consoled him and led him toward the dining table, despite the stench of evil spirits clinging to him.

As the two approached, Geralt, with a teasing smile, commented, "You two look like you crawled out of a cesspit. I could smell you from dozens of meters away."

Vesemir's smile grew even broader. He welcomed them, saying, "Lambert, Eskel, go freshen up and get rid of that grime. Afterward, join us for the meal prepared by Wayne. We'll enjoy some wine and have a good chat."

"Welcome home, boys."

After a night of talking and drinking, the other witchers had all succumbed to their cups, leaving Wayne the only sober one. With no other choice, he began the laborious task of hauling each of them back to their rooms, one by one, as if they were mere sacks of grain.

Kaer Morhen, the stronghold of the Wolf School, had always been a refuge during the winter months. The four witchers of the Wolf School—Vesemir, Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel—would make their way back here each year, provided they weren't delayed by other matters, before the heavy snow sealed off the mountain passes.

There was also Berengar, a more solitary witcher, who occasionally returned to Kaer Morhen to recuperate. He was a man of few words, and while his relationship with Vesemir was cordial, he kept a distance from the other three. In all his years at Kaer Morhen, Wayne had only seen Berengar return once during the winter.

Wayne, being well-acquainted with the events of the Witcher series, knew that Berengar's fate was grim. In time, he would be captured by a group of Vizima gangsters and renegade sorcerers, forced to divulge the location of Kaer Morhen, and reveal the secrets of the Trial of the Grasses. These revelations would set off a chain of catastrophic events. However, for now, these were distant concerns, irrelevant to Wayne's immediate life.

Winter in Kaer Morhen was a time of intense training, particularly in swordsmanship. Wayne had the unique opportunity to spar with four masters, each with their distinct style, gaining invaluable experience in combat.

As the winter deepened, the cold made fishing and vegetable growing nearly impossible, depriving Wayne of some of his favorite pastimes. Thankfully, the presence of his fellow witchers offered some solace. In his free time, he would share the delicacies he had prepared with the senior witchers, listening to their tales of past hunts, the monsters they had faced, and the customs and stories that couldn't be found in books.

As the snow began to thaw, Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel prepared to depart on their monster-hunting expeditions once more. Witchers had to earn their keep, traveling the world to take on contracts and slay beasts. This year, Wayne's growing abilities had begun to earn him recognition. Vesemir, who had been closely overseeing Wayne's training, no longer needed to be present every day. Instead, Vesemir focused on setting training goals and venturing down the mountain to find work to support them.

Training a witcher was an expensive endeavor, and although Vesemir had some savings, those funds were dwindling. The cost of Wayne's training added further strain on Vesemir's resources.

Time passed quickly at Kaer Morhen, with days filled with rigorous training. Wayne remained diligent, honing his skills and immersing himself in the study of monsters through the castle's extensive library.

By the end of the year, Wayne had reached a notable level of proficiency. His overall skill level had risen to 5, with his swordsmanship and Sign abilities reaching levels 5 and 8, respectively.

Not only that, but he also gained a professional specialty upon reaching level 5:

Swordsmanship Specialty: Cat's Sensitivity, which granted him cat-like agility and heightened intuition. Effect: Weapon attack speed increased by 25%, intuition +3.Sign Specialty: Powerful Spellcasting, allowing him to consume more mana through short-term energy storage and cast more potent Signs.

These combat bonuses and specialties greatly enhanced Wayne's overall combat prowess, far surpassing the typical standards of a witcher apprentice.

The following winter, with the mountains once again blanketed in snow and the witchers of the Wolf School gathered at Kaer Morhen, 16-year-old Wayne found himself unable to bear the isolation any longer. He approached his mentor, Vesemir, and expressed his desire to become a full-fledged witcher by the next spring.

This declaration elicited mixed reactions from Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel, who were present.

Before Vesemir could respond, Lambert spoke up, his tone laced with mockery, "You're getting ahead of yourself, kid. Sure, you've got talent, but you've only been training for a few years. Do you really think you're ready to be a full-fledged witcher? I don't want to be the one dragging your corpse out of a monster's lair someday."

Eskel, taking a sip of his beer, chimed in, "Lambert's not wrong, Wayne. You're still young; there's no need to rush. Many a young witcher has met their end not by the claws of monsters, but through the treachery and dangers posed by humans. You've still got a lot to learn. We witchers have a long lifespan, and you've got plenty of time to grow."

Geralt remained silent, his gaze fixed on Wayne, his curiosity evident. He wondered why Wayne was so eager to advance. Vesemir, the most seasoned of them all, regarded Wayne with a serious expression. He locked eyes with the young apprentice, the weight of his experience clear in his gaze.

"Wayne, I've always emphasized the importance of patience and caution on a witcher's path. You're still in the process of learning and growing. There's no need to rush." Vesemir leaned in slightly, peering directly into Wayne's eyes. "Now, tell me, why are you pursuing this so eagerly?"

Wayne smiled sincerely at his mentor and the others. "Vesemir, I've memorized all the books in the castle, and I'm quite proficient in the Wolf School's swordsmanship. I think I've reached a point where it's difficult to improve further by staying in the castle and merely practicing."

He looked at the wrinkled face of the old witcher and added softly, "You once said that experience is the best teacher. To put your mind at ease and to prove I'm ready to become a witcher, I've decided to challenge the senior witchers of the Wolf School with everything I've got."

The next day dawned bright and clear, perfect weather for a battle. Wayne had boldly declared his intention to challenge Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel—three seasoned members of the Wolf School—to prove his readiness to become a full-fledged witcher. Vesemir, the elder mentor of the witchers, agreed to his request.

After breakfast, Lambert, known for his impatience, was already urging everyone to head to the training ground. His thoughts were consumed with teaching his young junior a harsh lesson, making Wayne realize that he was not yet ready to leave Kaer Morhen and venture into the world, where an untimely death at the hands of some unknown monster awaited him if he wasn't fully prepared.

In the training ground, Wayne and Lambert faced each other. Vesemir, Geralt, and Eskel watched with great interest from the sidelines. Geralt, always one to enjoy a bit of risk, suggested a wager on the outcome.

"Bet on Wayne to win, three-to-one odds."

"Bet on Lambert, two-to-one," Geralt said, tempting them. "Are you interested? Minimum bet of fifty Orens."

Eskel couldn't help but grin at Geralt's offer, teasing, "It seems you've made quite a bit of coin this year, Geralt. Your reputation as a ladies' man must be paying off."

"I've got a little left, sure," Eskel replied. "Fifty Orens on Lambert. He's been a witcher for over sixty years; he shouldn't lose to a young one."

Geralt smirked and then turned to Vesemir with curiosity. "What about you, Vesemir? Care to place a bet?"

The old witcher snorted softly. Having spent the most time with Wayne, Vesemir knew that the young half-elf was typically cautious and methodical in his actions, rarely taking risks without a solid plan. Throughout his training, Wayne had demonstrated dedication and precision, as if he believed there was always a significant reward for completing his tasks successfully.

"I'll bet on Wayne," Vesemir said, his tone firm. He pulled out a money pouch and tossed it to Geralt, who opened it to find a hundred Orens inside. Vesemir continued, "I know Wayne's talent well. He seldom does anything without being certain of the outcome. I believe he'll win."

Geralt examined the money pouch, calculating the odds. Despite his outward confidence, he felt a pang of doubt. He glanced back at the training ground, silently praying that Lambert would put up a good fight and not cost him his wager.

As they placed their bets, the duel between Wayne and Lambert began.

Lambert, a sneer on his face, held his steel sword at the ready, adopting the offensive stance of the Wolf School's swordsmanship. He addressed Wayne with a warning, "Kid, it's not too late to admit defeat. I won't be holding back."

Wayne took a deep breath, grasping his steel sword firmly as he mirrored Lambert's stance. A determined smile played on his lips as he responded, "Brother Lambert, just a heads-up—I'm very fast."

With those words, Wayne exploded into motion, his figure blurring into a streak of lightning. His sword moved so quickly that it seemed to split into three afterimages, each targeting a different part of Lambert's body: his throat, chest, and wrist.

The onlookers were stunned. Wayne's speed was far beyond what he had ever displayed during training.

Witchers, often considered superhuman, have physical abilities far surpassing those of regular people, but even they rarely reach such speeds. Lambert, however, was not easily rattled. Drawing on decades of combat experience, he skillfully blocked all three of Wayne's strikes. But before Lambert could counterattack, Wayne unleashed a relentless flurry of blows, his sword flashing like a storm of steel.

For a few moments, the sound of clashing swords filled the air without pause. Wayne's aggressive onslaught forced Lambert onto the defensive. Eskel, observing from the sidelines, turned to Geralt in astonishment, "What's going on? Why is he so fast? His sword speed far exceeds ours when we were apprentices."

Geralt's expression grew serious as he realized he might lose his bet. He watched intently, feeling the weight of the Orens in his pocket and hoping Lambert wouldn't let him down.

The battle raged on for about four minutes, with Lambert continually on the defensive. Wayne's attacks were swift, precise, and unyielding, aimed at vital points with unnerving accuracy. Sweat beaded on Lambert's forehead as he struggled to keep up with the unrelenting barrage.

Defending against Wayne's rapid strikes took a heavy toll on Lambert. It was clear that Wayne's sword speed was among the fastest Lambert had ever encountered. As soon as Lambert blocked one strike, another was already on its way, targeting a different vulnerable spot. The constant pressure left him with no opportunity to counterattack, forcing him to focus solely on defense.

As the duel wore on, Lambert's strength began to wane. Sensing this, Wayne feigned a move, causing Lambert to overextend his defense. In that split second, Wayne capitalized on the opening, closing the distance between them. Lambert, realizing his mistake, attempted to pull back to avoid injuring Wayne, but it was too late. Wayne's steel sword was already at Lambert's throat, securing his victory.

Lambert let out a resigned chuckle, lowering his sword. "Damn it, boy. You're too fast. It's like fighting one of those Cat School witchers. Their sword skills are tailored for dueling."

Lambert couldn't help but wonder if Wayne's elven heritage contributed to his extraordinary agility and swordsmanship, reminiscent of the Cat School's techniques.

Wayne smiled slightly, aware that the Wolf School's swordsmanship was primarily designed to combat monsters. This specialization often left them less prepared to face swift human opponents in battle.

Wayne's swordsmanship had reached an advanced level, increasing his skill by 25%. This was no ordinary improvement; it was a significant enhancement that amplified his abilities across the board. Coupled with his professional specialty, Cat's Agility, which increased his attack speed by 20%, it was no wonder that his speed had shocked the other witchers.

Turning to the other members of the Wolf School, Wayne offered an explanation. "I'm not entirely sure, but it seems the elven blood in me enhances my reflexes. My strength is still lacking, though, so I plan to focus on archery as well. I have a feeling I might have a natural talent for it."

Lambert was surprised. For many years, witchers had relied on bombs, crossbows, traps, and poisons, but very few used bows and arrows effectively.

Still, Lambert didn't dwell on it. Instead, he sighed and turned to Vesemir. "Old man, I lost. I acknowledge Wayne's skill in swordsmanship."

Expert-level task: [Leadership] 1/3 completed.

The first round of competition ended with Wayne's victory. However, Vesemir didn't display any satisfaction on his face; instead, he sighed. He glanced at Geralt and Eskel, who looked frustrated after losing their money, and asked, "Geralt, Eskel, which of you will challenge Wayne next?"

Eskel, feeling the sting of losing fifty Orens, turned to Geralt and said, "I'll take the second round. But how about we make another bet? Who do you think will win, me or Wayne?"

Geralt, still upset over the 250 Orens he had lost to Vesemir, clenched his teeth and responded, "Lambert must have underestimated his opponent earlier. The kid's fast, but if it's you, Eskel, I think you can handle him."

"Let's keep gambling. Bet on Wayne's win, one for one. Bet on you, one for two," Geralt proposed. "How much are you putting down, Eskel?"

Eskel considered for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a ruby pendant. Handing it to Geralt, he said, "This is a ruby necklace I found in some ruins; it should be worth about two hundred Orens. I'm betting on myself."

Geralt whistled, admiring the pendant. "Nice find, seems like you had a good haul last year." He swung the necklace around and then turned to Vesemir. "What about you, old man? Care to place another bet?"

Vesemir crossed his arms, glanced at Geralt, and snorted. "I'll put all the three hundred Orens I just won on Wayne."

"But," he added, "if I win, you don't need to pay me six hundred Orens. I doubt you have that many coins on you. Instead, this winter, I'm going to teach Wayne how to make witcher potions. When the time comes, you'll take him into the forest and teach him how to gather herbs and monster parts."

Relieved that he wouldn't have to cover the gambling debt, Geralt nodded and said, "No problem, old man. Even if you lose, I'll take care of it."

After resting for about ten minutes, Wayne ignored Lambert's grumbling and stepped forward to face Eskel, who was already standing ready with a training steel sword.

Eskel, his face marked by a deep scar from an old battle, was a man of few words, his demeanor more reserved than most witchers. He lifted his sword, assumed the Wolf School's defensive stance, and said in a low, steady voice, "Come on, little one. I won't hold back."

But Wayne didn't immediately take up a combat stance. Instead, he made a halting gesture toward Eskel and turned to shout to Vesemir, "Teacher, I'd like to use signs in the next two rounds. They're part of our strength as witchers."

Vesemir didn't answer right away; instead, he looked to Eskel, who gave a silent nod of approval. "Alright, Wayne," Vesemir said, "you may use signs. But remember, we're all companions here. Be careful."

Wayne nodded respectfully, then turned back to face Eskel. The two witchers exchanged a silent glance of understanding.

Wayne extended his left hand, twisted his fingers into the Quen sign, and after a few moments, a shield of mana enveloped his body. Although the shield appeared similar to an ordinary Quen, only Wayne knew it had consumed nearly half of his chaotic magic. Eskel, unaware of this, added his own Quen shield and resumed his defensive stance.

The second round began. This time, Wayne did not rely on speed. He had already studied Eskel's style during their training sessions. Unlike the fiery Lambert or the naturally talented Geralt, Eskel was a calm and calculated swordsman. Wayne knew his usual tactics wouldn't catch Eskel off guard, so he opted for a powerful, direct assault.

With both hands gripping his steel sword, Wayne advanced steadily on Eskel. As soon as they were within striking distance, Wayne swung his sword in a powerful overhead slash, aiming to overwhelm Eskel with sheer force.

The swords clashed with a resounding bang, sending sparks flying. Eskel's hand tingled from the impact, and he stepped back, surprised by the strength of Wayne's strike. It was far more powerful than he had expected.

However, Eskel remained composed. Although Wayne's strength exceeded his expectations, it was still within Eskel's capacity to handle. Using his superior parrying skills, Eskel engaged Wayne in a series of exchanges, eventually finding an opening to knock Wayne's sword aside, creating a momentary gap in his defense.

Seizing the opportunity, Eskel spun around and delivered a powerful kick to Wayne's shield. But to his astonishment, the Quen shield didn't yield or shatter; it absorbed the blow without disturbing Wayne's stance.

Eskel's eyes widened in shock. Before he could recover, Wayne made a quick sign-casting gesture with one hand, causing the Quen shield surrounding him to rapidly expand and then explode outward.

The blast sent Eskel flying backward, slamming him into a training dummy. Dazed, he looked up to see Wayne's blade poised at his throat.

The two locked eyes, and Wayne smiled as he lowered his sword, extending a hand to help Eskel up.

Rubbing his chest where he had taken the brunt of the explosion, Eskel said with a hint of awe in his voice, "What was that? Your Quen is much stronger than ours—and it can explode?"

Wayne turned to Vesemir and Geralt, scratching his head as he explained, "It seems I have a talent for signs. I can enhance them by channeling more magic."

Eskel gazed at Wayne, his eyes taking in the young witcher's features, particularly his amber cat-like pupils. With a sigh, he said with a touch of envy, "It looks like you, like Geralt, are one of the gifted ones. I lost, Wayne. Your strength is on par with an experienced witcher."

Wayne had emerged victorious in the first two rounds of the competition, securing his place as an official Witcher at Kaer Morhen. Although the battles were not overly intense, they had taken a toll on Wayne, leaving him fatigued.

Now, he faced his most challenging opponent among the Witchers, Geralt. Wayne knew he needed a solid strategy to face Geralt in the third round of the competition, determined to prove himself as a capable Witcher.

Vesemir, the seasoned Witcher overseeing the competition, made a decision. He believed Wayne had demonstrated his prowess and was satisfied with his performance. Therefore, Vesemir chose to end the competition after just two rounds, meaning Wayne had passed the test and was now qualified to become a Witcher at Kaer Morhen, no longer requiring a third round. It was a significant achievement for the young Witcher.

He scanned the faces of Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel.

"However, you have no experience dealing with monsters yet," Vesemir continued. "In the next few years, you and Geralt will form a team and carry out missions together. He will teach you how to become a real Witcher."

As the old Witcher finished speaking, a system prompt sounded in Wayne's mind:

Expert-level task: [Witcher] has been completed.

Rewards: 30 EXP, expert-level treasure chest.

Wayne initially considered continuing to the third round, but upon receiving the system prompt confirming that he had completed the expert-level task, he decided against it. Passing the challenging test not only granted him the right to officially become a Witcher but also fulfilled his first expert-level task. The rewards were substantial: 30 experience points, equivalent to the rewards from ten regular tasks, and an expert-level treasure chest that could contain valuable items, including rare ones. This marked a significant step in his journey as a Witcher.

Over the past year and a half, Wayne had collected over 500 ordinary treasure chests, one per day. Each of these chests contained a small amount of currency or some common-level random items. He stored them in his system inventory but refrained from opening them while at Kaer Morhen, as he didn't want the items he obtained from these chests to raise any suspicions among the Witchers, especially Vesemir. He likely intended to open them at a more opportune moment or location.

Wayne (16 years old)

Occupation: Witcher

Level: Level 5 (263/500)

Ability value: 2 points

Attributes: Strength 17, Dexterity 22, Constitution 19, Spirit 22

Skills: Swordsmanship LV5, Signs LV8, Gene Mutation LV1

Special bloodline: Elder Blood (weak, unawakened) requires ten ability points to activate

Subsidiary skills: Archery LV1, Cooking LV5, Herbology LV3

Half a month later, heavy snow once again blocked the passage between Kaer Morhen and the outside world.

Wayne's training at Kaer Morhen involved various tasks, such as gathering herbs, hunting monsters, and collecting materials for crafting Witcher potions. This hands-on experience allowed him to apply the knowledge he had gained from books to real-life situations. However, the winter season limited their options as the forests and valleys around Kaer Morhen were cold and covered in snow. The monsters they could find during this time were mainly drowners and wraiths, and there weren't many materials available for collection.

During one of their expeditions near a small lake, Wayne found himself surrounded by five drowners. Geralt, the White Wolf, observed Wayne's performance with great interest. Wayne displayed incredible talent, swiftly and skillfully dealing with the drowners. His combat abilities and swordsmanship were impressive, and he appeared fearless in the face of these monsters. Geralt couldn't help but marvel at Wayne's potential, considering the possibility that Wayne could become one of the strongest Witchers in the history of the Wolf School, just as Vesemir had predicted.

Despite the initial fear Wayne felt when facing these monsters, he managed to overcome it and prove his abilities in combat. This practical experience was essential for his growth as a Witcher.

Wayne's impressive swordsmanship and combat skills allowed him to defeat the group of drowners quickly and efficiently. In less than two minutes, he had successfully slain all five, reducing them to lifeless corpses lying on the ground. His swift and precise movements demonstrated his growing expertise as a Witcher.

After Wayne had killed the drowners and the adrenaline of combat subsided, he found himself standing amidst the lifeless bodies, lost in thought. The sight of the dismembered drowners, which bore a close resemblance to humans, left him feeling somewhat disturbed. It was not fear but rather the gruesome nature of the task that had momentarily unsettled him. It was a reminder that the life of a Witcher often involved dealing with the darker, more morbid aspects of the world.

"What are you doing in a daze? Quickly take out the drowner's brain," Geralt said, interrupting Wayne's thoughts. "Today's lesson is to refine the Swallow potion."

Seeing Wayne holding the silver sword in a daze after killing the drowners, Geralt took out the potion-brewing tools, stepped forward, and patted him on the shoulder. With a smile, he asked, "What's wrong? Are you scared by the sight of these monster corpses?"

Wayne, still slightly unsettled, looked at Geralt and replied, "I'm not scared, Geralt. It's just that the appearance of these drowners, so similar to humans, and the aftermath of the battle made me feel a bit queasy. I'll get used to it with time, though." He forced a small smile to reassure Geralt that he was not afraid but needed some time to adapt fully to the life of a Witcher.

Geralt nodded understandingly. "I get what you mean, Wayne. The first time is always the toughest, especially when the monsters resemble humans. But you'll learn to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand. Dealing with various types of corpses is a significant part of our work as Witchers. It's not pleasant, but it's necessary. You're doing well so far. Let's continue with our task. From now on, you have to get used to living with rotting corpses, mud, and filth." Geralt encouraged Wayne to help him with the grim but essential work of dissecting the drowners and preparing the materials for the Swallow potions.

As he spoke, Geralt placed the drowner brain he had extracted into a basin-like container, then waved at Wayne. "I heard from Vesemir that you enjoy being assigned tasks. Come on, our task today is to dissect the corpses of twenty drowners and refine ten Swallow potions."

As soon as Geralt finished speaking, a system prompt sounded in Wayne's mind:

Task: [Dispose of drowner corpses, brew Swallow potion] Normal level.

Accept/Decline.

Wayne accepted the task.

Despite his initial discomfort, he focused on the task at hand. As he began dissecting the drowner, he mirrored Geralt's method, gradually getting accustomed to these gruesome tasks. Over time, he knew he would adapt to this aspect of the Witcher's life. After all, it was a path he had willingly chosen, and he was determined to become a skilled and fearless Witcher, just like Geralt.

The Swallow Potion, renowned for its role as a symbol of spring and recovery, is a crucial item for witchers. Its primary function is to accelerate the healing of physical injuries, making it an essential tool for witchers who must mend their wounds during or after dangerous encounters. The notion of preparing a Swallow Potion in advance to anticipate potential injuries reflects the practical mindset of witchers, who are frequently exposed to perilous situations. The potion's capacity to stabilize and prevent injuries from worsening can provide a life-saving edge, enabling witchers to push their limits in combat.

While explaining the potion's use to Wayne, Geralt demonstrated the brewing process. He took a handful of white Myrtle petals, measured a specific amount with a scale, placed them into a container, and crushed them into a clear, translucent juice. Next, he used a spoon to scrape off a layer of sour-smelling fluid from a drowner brain and added it to the container. Finally, he poured half a bottle of dwarven spirit into the mixture, placed it over the fire, and continued, "The Swallow Potion's formula is quite straightforward. It requires white Myrtle petals and a portion of the drowner brain, in a two-to-one weight ratio. Add the spirits and boil for an hour, and it's ready."

"This potion is one of the most commonly used remedies for us witchers. It's suitable for most battles, has no significant side effects, and can counteract the adverse effects of other potions like Thunder, Maribor Forest, and White Raffard's Decoction. It tastes a bit like rotten oranges mixed with lard."

"Of course, like all witcher potions, the Swallow Potion is toxic. While it can aid ordinary people, it will initially poison them before any recovery occurs."

Wayne took notes attentively, observing how the liquid in the container slowly transformed from white to light yellow under the heat of the flame. The air was filled with an unpleasant odor. The Swallow Potion, famous in both novels and games, had even featured prominently in The Witcher III, where Geralt used it to save a seriously injured woman.

During their hour by the cold lake, Geralt instructed Wayne on brewing potions, using alchemical tools, and shared additional potion recipes. Wayne was given the opportunity to handle the white Myrtle petals and drowner brains himself. After processing six drowner brains, a small bag of white Myrtle petals, and three bottles of spirits, they managed to refine twelve bottles of Swallow Potion. Geralt took four bottles for himself and handed Wayne the remaining eight.

Wayne examined one of the bottles, noting the light yellow, transparent liquid inside. He asked, "Geralt, how long can this potion be stored? I've read that different potions have varying toxicity levels, and that witchers can't consume them indefinitely. Is there a standard for this?"

Geralt looked at the time, then began to pack up the alchemy tools. "Indeed, although the Swallow Potion is effective, drinking too much at once can be harmful. The number of potions one can safely consume depends on how much toxicity your mutant organs can handle."

"It's similar to alcohol—stronger bodies can tolerate more toxicity. However, since our potions are made with spirits and don't spoil easily, they can be stored for about six months."

Wayne nodded, finding this information aligned with his understanding. He mused, "Since the toxicity a witcher can endure is tied to their mutant organs, could consuming these potions help build poison resistance?"

He glanced at the Swallow Potion in his hand and considered the mutation level displayed in his skill bar. Despite a year of trying various methods, his mutation level hadn't improved. He thought, "Perhaps this potion could help train and enhance my mutation level."

After a moment of thought, Wayne turned to Geralt and said, "I haven't tried any witcher potions yet. I'd like to experience the effects of the Swallow Potion."

Geralt shrugged, unperturbed by Wayne's curiosity. "Our potions are brewed with spirits, so if you're not accustomed to them, it's best not to drink too much."

Wayne responded nonchalantly. In his previous life, he had a strong tolerance for alcohol, so he was not worried about the ancient spirits. He made a shallow cut on his wrist with a clean knife and drank the potion. Suppressing the sour taste, he swallowed it. As the light yellow liquid went down, a fiery heat and slight pain spread through his internal organs. This sensation soon gave way to a warm feeling that enveloped him, and his discomfort disappeared.

As the warmth reached his arm, Wayne noticed that the shallow wound was no longer painful but rather slightly itchy, indicating the healing process had begun. Simultaneously, a system notification sounded:

Mutation proficiency +1, current progress: 1.

Mutation LV1: Mana recovery speed +10%, poison resistance +1.

Wayne was thrilled. Compared to the slow progress in improving his swordsmanship, the mutation level advanced much faster with potion consumption. The bonuses provided by the mutation level would significantly enhance Wayne's progress and strength. Faster mana recovery would enable him to cast more Signs and improve his Sign level more quickly. Increased poison resistance would allow him to consume more witcher potions, further boosting his mutation level. This beneficial cycle made Wayne consider making potion consumption a regular part of his routine. He also contemplated if his culinary skills could make these potions more palatable and whether he might help other witchers from the wolf school with potion brewing.

…

In the quiet winter at Kaer Morhen, life was serene and ideal for focused training. Wayne grew increasingly enthusiastic about Geralt's teachings, especially after discovering the method to enhance his mutation level. Under the guidance of the master swordsman Geralt, Wayne sharpened his skills with the silver sword, hunting monsters around Kaer Morhen with swift and ruthless efficiency. His primary goal was to gather materials for potion-making. Monsters that were relatively easier to handle, such as water hags and Endrega, were attacked by Wayne every couple of days, nearly driving them to extinction.

Geralt, always by his side, found Wayne's obsession with collecting potion materials unusual. He wondered why this young Witcher was so fixated on gathering these ingredients. Could it be that Wayne had a particular fondness for the taste of potions?

However, Wayne's intense potion brewing lasted less than a month before he had to halt. In the harsh winter, both the spirits needed for brewing and the herbs that grew in the world were rare and costly. Such high consumption could not be sustained without prior preparation. Nevertheless, Wayne gained a lot from this month of frantic potion-making. Since learning to brew Witcher potions, he had consumed at least three bottles daily.

On one hand, this was to exercise his mutation skills, and on the other, to acclimate his body to the potions and improve his poison resistance. This month-long effort not only elevated his mutation level by one but also granted him a new auxiliary skill:

Alchemy LV1: Potion Effect +4%.

Wayne's notable achievements during this period were not solely due to his own efforts. The support and camaraderie of his fellow Witchers in the Wolf School were crucial to his progress. Their help in gathering herbs, materials, and participating in monster hunts were essential to his training and potion-making.

To show his gratitude, Wayne prepared a lavish feast for his fellow Witchers. He served an array of dishes, including smoked sausages, pickled salted fish, braised rabbit meat, roasted venison leg, flavorful fish soup, and sweet wild vegetables gathered from the forest. The table was set with ten different dishes. As they enjoyed the meal, Lambert couldn't help but express his satisfaction and admiration.

"I've missed Wayne's cooking since we left Kaer Morhen at the start of the year. The ingredients might be ordinary, but he always manages to make them taste amazing. I've been looking forward to winter just for this."

Eskel, nodding in agreement, ladled himself a bowl of fish soup. After gulping half of it, he commented, "Wayne's cooking is even better than last year."

Geralt, savoring a braised rabbit leg, ate with focus. It had been no easy task to accompany Wayne on herb-collecting and monster-slaying expeditions in the freezing forest over the past month.

The Witchers of the Wolf School were known for their strong sense of unity. Despite not being related by blood, they considered each other family and were always willing to support one another.

At the head of the table, Vesemir, who was nearing three hundred years old, observed the warm scene with a hint of emotion. Since the decline of the Witcher Order, opportunities for the Witchers to gather and share meals like this had become rare.

He cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention, and addressed Geralt. "Once spring arrives, Wayne will need to leave Kaer Morhen. Geralt, tomorrow you will accompany him to the Circle of Elements in the back mountains. Assist him in activating the emblem of our Wolf School. For us Witchers, the magic badge is an indispensable tool. It helps us detect magic fluctuations and shields us from the blinding effects of magic."

Geralt hadn't reacted yet, but Wayne's eyes lit up at the mention of the Circle of Elements.

The Circle of Elements was a place of intense magical energy, and Wayne had nearly forgotten about it during his year-and-a-half stay at Kaer Morhen. Gamers familiar with the Witcher games knew it not only boosts a Witcher's Sign power and recharges magical items but also grants an extra skill point to Geralt in the game.

Hearing this, Geralt picked up a glass of beer, took a swig, shrugged nonchalantly, and said, "Leave it to me, Vesemir. It's not the first time I've done this."

The old Witcher hummed in acknowledgment but then recalled something and added, "By the way, be careful around the group of trolls near the mountain. It seems there have been some disturbances with them lately. Avoid conflicts if possible."

Turning to Wayne with a serious expression, Vesemir continued, "And you, young man, I've heard from Geralt that you've been drinking potions even when not fighting. These potions are highly toxic. Even for us Witchers, excessive consumption can harm our bodies. I don't know what your intentions are, but for the sake of your health, you should cut back."

Wayne wanted to explain but, seeing the old Witcher's concerned expression, could only nod and say, "Understood, Master. I'll be more careful."

He decided to reduce his potion intake while at Kaer Morhen. Fortunately, his potion reserves were low, so if he drank slowly, he might manage until the beginning of spring.

After Vesemir finished speaking, the dining table fell silent again. Except for Lambert, the others were quiet. The delicious food on the table was so tempting that no one was in the mood for conversation.

Early the next morning, Wayne, brimming with excitement, knocked on Geralt's door, eager to set off to the Circle of Elements. He couldn't wait to see if the Circle would grant him a special effect, such as an additional skill point, as in the game. If it did, searching for such circles worldwide could be an excellent way to boost his strength.

When Geralt was roused from sleep, he muttered in annoyance before saying, "Kid, you're too impatient. Didn't the old man teach you? Patience and caution are crucial for a Witcher. Most who rush don't last long outside Kaer Morhen."

Wayne, a bit embarrassed, smiled and said, "Sorry, Geralt. I'm just excited about the Circle of Elements and the magic emblems. I've prepared a hearty breakfast for you. Let's eat quickly and head out early. After we're done, we can hunt in the forest and bring back some game."

Unable to stand Wayne's urging, Geralt set off with him after breakfast.

Geralt and Wayne embarked on their journey to the Circle of Elements after breakfast, despite the challenging path ahead. To reach their destination in the mountains behind Kaer Morhen, they knew they had to overcome several obstacles: crossing a lake next to the castle using a boat, navigating a rugged mountain road, and eventually passing through a dark cave to reach their goal. Their determination to reach the Circle of Elements drove them forward, despite the difficulties they anticipated on their path.

Geralt and Wayne bid farewell to their fellow witchers and swiftly departed from the castle, making their way to the lake. Wayne's prior efforts had cleared the lake of troublesome water monsters, making their journey much smoother. With no more interruptions from these bothersome creatures, they easily found a dilapidated boat and began their crossing to the opposite shore of the lake, one step closer to their destination.

After boarding the boat, Wayne adjusted the direction of the sails. Noticing the nostalgic expression on Geralt's face, he asked, "Geralt, what are you thinking? Your expression suggests something happened here?"

Hearing this, Geralt touched the lake water and looked dazed for a few seconds before giving a bitter smile. "It reminds me of the past. Wayne, Kaer Morhen has fewer and fewer apprentices now, and many of the old traditions have been abandoned. When I became a Witcher, the Trial of the Grasses claimed more than 50% of the apprentices' lives. Even those who survived had to face the final trial. The path we are taking now is part of that last trial."

Geralt looked into Wayne's eyes and said with some regret, "Initially, eight apprentices passed the Trial of the Grasses with me, but only four of us made it through the final trial. A year later, two more died at the hands of monsters, leaving only Eskel and me."

Wayne's silence underscored the grim reality of being a Witcher. He realized that more than 20 children had started their training alongside Geralt, and yet less than one-tenth of them had survived to become Witchers. The odds of survival in their line of work were indeed harsh, highlighting the unforgiving nature of their chosen path.

The conversation between Geralt and Wayne emphasized the harsh reality of their profession. It served as a stark reminder that being a Witcher came with significant personal sacrifices and a high price to pay.

After sailing on the lake for approximately half an hour without incident, Geralt and Wayne appeared to be making good progress. However, their luck took a turn for the worse when they disembarked on the other side of the lake and were suddenly confronted by a group of about a dozen harpies, who immediately launched an attack on the two Witchers.

Seeing the harpies attacking from the sky, Geralt put a Quen Sign on himself and rushed forward with his sword.

In the face of the harpy attack, Geralt displayed his combat skills by deftly dodging and using his silver sword to fend off the creatures. However, the sheer number of harpies made the situation challenging, and Geralt began to look somewhat overwhelmed.

Wayne was cautious. This was his first encounter with harpies, and it was also his first time facing a flying monster. According to descriptions, harpies are hybrid beasts with human faces, beaks, wings, and claws. They emit a foul odor like carrion and have flexible wings that allow them to maneuver freely in the air. Their attack method is similar to that of an eagle, using their beaks and claws to strike with high speed from a dive. However, due to their deformed body structure, they become clumsy when they land on the ground, significantly reducing their combat effectiveness. Thinking of this, Wayne took a defensive stance with his sword in his right hand and pointed his left finger at a flying harpy in the air, performing the Aard Sign.

With the flow of magic power in his body, Wayne drew a magic circle with his left hand and, with a slight push, sent a harpy plummeting to the ground as if struck by a powerful force.

The harpy, falling from about ten meters above, broke its wings upon impact, writhing in pain and struggling on the ground.

Seizing the opportunity, Geralt quickly moved to the harpy's side and drove his silver sword into its heart, eliminating the monster.

Wayne followed suit, casting the Axii Sign eight times in quick succession, effectively cooperating with Geralt to kill eight harpies.

Despite the harpies losing half their number, their low intelligence prevented them from understanding fear or retreat. Driven by instinct and aggression, they continued their relentless attack, undeterred by the loss of their comrades.

The intense battle took a toll on Geralt. Despite his efforts to block and evade the harpies' attacks, his physical strength was noticeably depleted, and he could no longer maintain a completely defensive stance. The harpies' relentless assault left several scars on his body and face, a testament to the ferocity of the fight and the dangers of their profession.

Seeing this, Wayne no longer hesitated and shouted to Geralt, "Geralt, come to me and draw all the monsters' attention!"

Without hesitation, Geralt knocked away a harpy's sharp claws with the hilt of his sword and rolled toward Wayne.

The remaining harpies, seeing their prey about to reach them, flew toward Geralt with single-minded focus.

As the battle intensified, Wayne prepared his Igni Sign. After gathering a significant amount of magic power, he shouted, "Get down!"

The magic power in his hand spewed out in a blazing stream. With his Igni Sign at Level 8, which boosts spell power by 40%, Wayne's spell condensed the mana of several ordinary Signs.

A raging orange-red flame erupted from Wayne's palm, enveloping the sky about ten meters ahead and incinerating the remaining harpies. The intense heat charred their outer skin and feathers, turning them into blackened corpses that fell from the sky.

Geralt, getting up from the ground, looked in shock at the scene. He had only seen such spell power from Sorcerers. He turned to Wayne, incredulously asking, "Are you sure you're using the Igni Sign? It feels completely different from what we use."

Wayne rubbed his hand, which seemed slightly burned by the intense flame, and replied innocently, "Yes, my knowledge of the Sign is the same as yours, taught by Vesemir. Maybe my talent is just better."

Geralt, speechless, drank a bottle of swallow potion and muttered, "It's not just about being better, Wayne. Maybe you should consider being a Sorcerer instead of a Witcher."

Wayne shrugged and suggested, "I'm already a Witcher. There's no use in discussing it now. Let's find the harpies' nests. I've read that they like to collect shiny objects. We might find gold coins, gems, or other valuables."

Hearing this, Geralt forgot about the previous conversation and nodded in agreement. "I once found several jewels in a harpy's nest and exchanged them for hundreds of Oren. Since we'll be forming a team for tasks in the coming years, the spoils will be divided according to the rules."

Ten minutes later, Geralt was smiling, holding two fist-sized pieces of gold in his hand. His heart was full of joy.

Although the monster bird's nest was full of carrion, bird droppings, and bones, and smelled worse than a sewer, Geralt had skillfully rummaged through it. Besides the gold and some coins, he also found two natural gemstones.

Wayne chose not to take the gold wrapped in the unappealing excrement from the harpy birds' nests. Instead, he opted for the two shiny gemstones. This decision made Geralt regard him more favorably. As a seasoned Witcher who indulged in various vices, Geralt earned significantly more than most people but spent it recklessly.

The life of a Witcher is undoubtedly challenging, filled with dirty and perilous tasks, along with discrimination from many. Furthermore, Witchers are mutants, which adds a significant psychological burden. To cope, many Witchers frequent pubs, brothels, and casinos. These indulgences provide a temporary escape from their demanding and often grim profession, helping them manage the psychological toll.

As a result, many Witchers find themselves living in poverty despite their substantial earnings. Their transient and often reckless spending habits contribute to their financial struggles, adding frustration and hardship to their lives.

Wayne, however, appeared to have a flexible moral code regarding money. He was not overly concerned about accumulating wealth and was willing to engage in various activities to earn money, regardless of the ethical implications. Whether helping the less fortunate by taking from the wealthy or engaging in more questionable ventures, Wayne seemed open to different avenues of income.

His willingness to explore diverse money-making opportunities suggested that he might not be as financially constrained as other Witchers and anticipated that his future earnings would far surpass what he could make as a Witcher.

"Wayne, in the cave ahead, there is a Cyclops. Many apprentice Witchers died at the hands of this monster. This is part of the final trial. Apprentices participating in the trial must find a way to pass through this cave guarded by the Cyclops. Actually, Cyclops are stronger than trolls and are also clumsy in action. They usually spend most of their time sleeping in the cave. As long as the apprentices are quiet and do not make a sound, they can pass through the cave safely."

Wayne nodded, thought for a moment, and said, "Then let's deal with this Cyclops this time."

Geralt paused, looked at Wayne for a few seconds, and said, "Wayne, since we will be forming a team to complete tasks in the future, we should get to know each other better. I believe that any being with a certain level of intelligence, whether human or a creature like a Cyclops, deserves consideration. As long as a monster with intelligence does not pose a direct threat to others, I will not take the initiative to harm it. I hope you agree with me on this."

Seeing Geralt's openness, Wayne also smiled sincerely and said, "You know, Geralt, I'm a half-elf—a non-human race, and now I'm seen as a monster myself, a Witcher. Don't worry, I'm more receptive to other intelligent creatures than you might think."

Geralt gave Wayne a deep look and nodded in appreciation of Wayne's understanding and willingness to embrace other intelligent creatures.

Geralt then took out two bottles of Witcher potion from his pocket and handed one to Wayne. "This is a Cat Potion that enhances our night vision and allows us to see in the dark. Follow me, be careful, and don't make any noise. Let's sneak through the cave quietly without waking the Cyclops."

Wayne nodded. His agility was already higher than that of ordinary Witchers, and this stealth mission posed no trouble for him. After drinking the Cat Potion, the two entered the cave one after the other.

As Geralt and Wayne advanced through the dark cave, Geralt's familiarity with the route was evident. He led Wayne cautiously along the cave wall. For five or six minutes, they moved quietly, trying not to make a sound. The snoring noise they had been hearing grew louder.

Despite the unsettling nature of the snoring, Geralt remained focused on their mission and did not investigate the source of the sound. He continued guiding Wayne along the cave wall until they reached the exit.

Curiosity got the better of Wayne as they prepared to leave the cave. He turned his head to look at the source of the snoring.

He saw a giant, four to five meters tall, lying on the ground with a huge wooden tree trunk, wearing only crude animal skins. The Cyclops had one hand covering its navel and the other stuffed into its trouser pocket, snoring comfortably in sleep.

After observing for a few seconds, Wayne followed Geralt out of the cave. When his eyes adjusted to the sunlight outside, a strange scene unfolded before him.

On flat ground tens of meters away, five tall, strange creatures made of boulders sat around a cauldron, eating and playing, even singing strange songs as if celebrating.

They were ugly in appearance and moved slowly, each resembling a large, drunken man. Though their speech was slurred and difficult to understand, it was clear they were speaking a form of human language.

Geralt, who was walking in front, turned his head, made a gesture, and said in a low voice, "This is a tribe of trolls. They are considered intelligent races that can barely communicate. Let's try not to cause any conflict."

"There are many of them. If we fight, we might get injured."

The trolls were incredibly clumsy. Wayne and Geralt followed them without any effort to conceal their presence. Unbeknownst to them, the trolls remained unaware of Wayne and Geralt until the pair were within ten meters of the group.

Among the trolls, the largest one, clad in stone armor covered with green moss, was busy stirring an unknown substance in a cauldron with a wooden stick. After a moment of surprise, he stood up and shouted to his companions, "Surround them!"

Upon hearing the command, five formidable trolls quickly dashed over and encircled Geralt and Wayne.

Seeing this, Geralt immediately shouted to prevent a conflict. "Hey! Take it easy, we're not here to fight."

The larger troll tilted his head, momentarily bewildered. Instead of letting his companions attack, he began speaking in fragmented phrases, "Witchers, kill monsters, two people, six trolls, I'm not afraid of you."

Geralt raised his hands to indicate that he was unarmed and looked at the steaming cauldron behind the trolls. "We are heading to the Circle of Elements on the mountain. We're just passing through. We have no intention of harming you."

However, the trolls' thinking wasn't straightforward. The largest troll suddenly said, "Here, the mountain of trolls, Witcher, cannot enter. Unless, give us, the toll."

Geralt rubbed his forehead in frustration. These trolls had enormous appetites. A single wild boar or similar game wouldn't be sufficient. Moreover, trolls are notoriously naive; if they didn't agree to their demands and Wayne and Geralt tried to force their way through, they would have to deal with all of them.

As Geralt was contemplating this, Wayne, who was following behind, reminded him, "Geralt, remember those harpy birds we killed earlier? There are exactly twenty of them. We can give these trolls the corpses they want. That should satisfy them."

Geralt's eyes lit up at Wayne's suggestion. He cast an appreciative glance at Wayne and then addressed the lead troll. "I've gathered a substantial amount of meat. If you and a few trolls come with me, we can transport it back together. There's more than enough to satisfy all of you."

The leading troll's excitement was palpable. He let out a triumphant roar and bellowed to his comrades, "Follow the Witcher, get the meat, and come back to celebrate!"

The trolls who had encircled Geralt and Wayne raised their hands and cheered. They began to dance, despite their massive size, like a group of children weighing hundreds of kilograms.

After escorting the trolls along a mountain path for about ten minutes to retrieve the harpy bird corpses from the riverbank, it was noon by the time Geralt and Wayne realized it.

The trolls demonstrated their trustworthiness by showing no interest in cleaning the harpy bird carcasses. Instead, they tore them into pieces and stacked them near the cooking pot, preparing them for roasting or boiling.

The leading troll even warmly invited Wayne and Geralt to join their celebration.

Wayne and Geralt, however, chose not to partake in the trolls' culinary activities. They continued their journey without pausing at the troll tribe, heading directly to the Circle of Elements on the mountain.

They arrived at a structure resembling a ruin. The city walls and the main building had crumbled, leaving only fragmented walls and a gravel surface. Near the cliff at the mountain's summit was a rectangular altar about ten square meters in size.

In the center of the altar, an intricate magic circle was carved. Behind it, a rectangular stone table held an array of candles. Four iron torches, fueled with a special substance, were stationed at the corners of the altar, giving the scene a ceremonial and mysterious ambiance.

Wayne was unsure how to activate the Wolf School badge in his hand, so he handed it to Geralt and asked, "What should I do now?"

Geralt examined the badge for a moment, then walked up to the altar. "The Circle of Elements is a node where magical power gathers, present all over the world. However, their strength varies with the concentration of magical power. Only powerful mages can utilize them effectively. We Witchers can't sense magical power; all we can do is use them to recharge magical items."

Geralt placed Wayne's badge on the stone table and then waved to him. "The magic circle here was carved by mages during the Witcher Order. Activating this Circle of Elements is relatively simple for us. Light the four torches in the order of Earth, Air, Water, and Flame using the Sign of Igni."

Understanding the process, Wayne moved swiftly to the center of the altar. He examined the patterns on the four torches, which depicted common elemental symbols representing the four elements of the Witcher world. Following Geralt's instructions, he lit each torch in turn with the Igni Sign.

As all four torches ignited, Wayne felt an invisible force converging towards the Wolf School badge on the stone table, even though Geralt could not sense the magical fluctuations.

At the same time, Wayne's internal system issued a prompt:

"When a high-concentration magic energy node is detected, three ability points can be obtained by absorbing it. Note: Absorbing this energy node will permanently destroy it, disrupting its spatial structure and creating a dimensional rift. Please choose carefully. Three ability points, permanent destruction, dimensional rift."

Wayne was initially excited about the prospect of gaining three ability points, but the consequences of absorbing the magical energy made him hesitate. This Circle of Elements was the closest one to Kaer Morhen, located less than a kilometer away. It was a valuable legacy left by the mages for the Witchers during the Order.

If he destroyed this site for the sake of three ability points, not only would Kaer Morhen lose a powerful support, but he might also create a troublesome mess due to the dimensional rift. Additionally, with Geralt the White Wolf by his side, absorbing the magical power could cause friction with his companions from the Wolf School.

Weighing the pros and cons, Wayne sighed. He realized that he couldn't ignore the long-term consequences for a small immediate gain. As Geralt mentioned, Circles of Elements are scattered throughout the world, and he would likely find others in the future.