The Divine Hunter

The courtyard was filled with weed, but it did not stop the witchers from sparring. As they clashed swords, sparks flew everywhere. One of the witchers moved away like a phantom and spun his dagger around his hand, its speed fast enough to create afterimages.

The witcher’s target remained firmly on the defensive. He kept his gaze locked onto his adversary, and he kept changing between five stances to block and counter the other witcher’s attacks.

After Roy made another downward slash, Aerondight was caught between two daggers, and the fighters locked eyes with each other, the sparks of battle flying between them.

“Too slow.” Auckes grinned toothily and leaped backward, not unlike a cat. He spun his daggers around his hands and bent downward. He stuck his tongue out and licked the blades in excitement as he started circling the young witcher.

Roy held the sword tightly and kept his legs firmly clasped together. He kept pointing the end of his sword at his opponent, who kept moving around. It hadn’t been five seconds since the spar began, but he was already drenched. Aside from the difference in power, Auckes’ air changed the moment he went into combat, and the oppressing air was exhausting Roy’s mental energy. That was the difference experience brought.

Roy’s heart kept thumping loudly, and his blood was racing through his veins, while the adrenaline kept him pumped. However, he couldn’t move a muscle. His reaction and speed was slower than Auckes’, so he had to go on the defensive.

Auckes was an experienced fighter. He kept circling Roy and piled on the pressure through his movements alone. He wouldn’t attack easily, but eventually, he came to a corner and slowed down. Auckes flipped his dagger, and the light of the sun that reflected off it blinded Roy for just a moment, but that moment was enough for Auckes to attack.

His eyes shone, and he leaped straight for Roy. Thanks to the deadly battles Roy had endured, he quickly put his weight on his left leg and spun in the opposite direction of the attack, and he slashed out blindly.

He heard something crack, and his shield broke. Wilt, who had been watching from the sidelines, was shocked. It raised its front legs and neighed sadly.

“I lost.” Roy put his sword down. He could feel the blade on the nape of his neck, and his limbs turned cold. He seemed disappointed by the outcome.

“You weren’t half bad. That last counter was fine.” Auckes sheathed his dagger into the leather sheath in front of his chest. “You almost hit me, and I could have lost the spar,” he commended.

If it weren’t for his great balance and agility, he wouldn’t have managed to spin around in midair and dodge Roy’s attack. “Say, I might have drunk a bit more than I could take. For some reason, my body stiffened up, and my mind was blank.”

Roy felt a little comforted hearing that. That’s not alcohol. That’s my skill—Fear. But his Will is 9.5. It’s the same as mine, so he can only be stunned for a hundredth of a second. That’s not enough to turn the tide.

“You don’t look so good. Disappointed, are we? Honestly, aside from your slightly weak and rigid swordsmanship, you don’t really look like a witcher who just passed the trial. Hm, give me a minute.” Auckes pulled his hood back and ruffled his oily hair as he looked Roy up and down. “You’re about the same level as I was back when I was eighteen. You can handle a Wild Hunt soldier. No wonder Letho’s paying attention to you.”

“A soldier? How much power did you use just now?” Roy asked, sounding frustrated.

“About a third or so.” Auckes yawned.

A third or so? Roy was shocked. I only managed to make him use a third of his strength? Now that he thought about it, he could feel that Auckes’ attacks with his dagger were sharper and deadlier than Letho’s.

“I’m still a newbie here.” Roy sighed and looked at the corner of the yard. “So what’s with those sandbags and wooden puppets?”

“You’ll know soon enough.” Auckes smiled mysteriously.

When they came back, Roy talked to the witchers and found out that each of them were experts in different fields. Auckes focused on the school’s dagger skills and swordsmanship. He was the top swordsman among the witchers, so Roy was no match for him.

Letho was the best alchemist among them. He could make a lot of bombs, potions, oils, and poisons. Roy had seen that firsthand on his adventures.

Serrit was the best tracker among them. He could track humans and monsters alike, and they couldn’t escape him easily. He had seen a lot of things in life, so everyone called him the encyclopedia of the Viper School. And he was the best sign user out of the three.

“So, excited for your new adventure in Cintra?” Letho asked. “Auckes and Serrit will join me, and we’ll teach you everything we know. You’ll become a real witcher.”

“What about the chosen person?”

“We’ll handle that. You just stay here and train for a week. Rest up for today. The training will start tomorrow. I’ll teach you all about alchemy, while Auckes will handle the combat. Serrit will teach you everything else, including monsters, traps, tracking, and hunting.”

The witchers looked at him eerily, as if they would experiment on him. “Um, hold it.” Roy took a step back. Letho alone is torturous enough, and now all three of them are going to teach me? That’s crazy. He forced a smile and took his journal out. “I am still learning the things you taught me. Can you give me some time to master this first?”

Letho shook his head and gulped down his beer. “We have to push you, kid. I know you have potential, so don’t waste it.”

***

Someone started drinking, and all of them went all out. They finished a barrel of beer in a single morning, and the three veteran witchers went to sleep on the ground, though their snores were loud enough to wake an elephant.

Roy shook his head. “They don’t care about their appearances, do they?” He was the only one who was sober. He didn’t like the feeling of losing control after getting drunk. Being tipsy was the best feeling for him.

The witchers woke up in the evening, and Serrit gave Roy—who was meditating on the second floor—a bag.

“What’s this?”

“My precious. Don’t dirty it. Don’t tear it apart.” Serrit looked at the sunset groggily and yawned. Apparently, he was still a bit drunk.

“Almanac of Creatures?” Roy took the bag and pulled out an old, almost torn book. The cover was curled up, and the back was almost cracked. It looked haggard. Roy rolled his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘don’t dirty it or tear it apart’? This books going to get destroyed if anything happens to it.”

Roy turned the cover over and flipped a few pages, then the content interested him. There were a lot of creatures recorded there, such as trolls and arachas. There were even pictures too, and it was a lot more complete than the notebook Letho gave him. More surprisingly, every page was filled with notes. They were conclusions the book’s owner arrived at.

“Witchers are not oafs. We have to read a lot of books.” Serrit nodded in approval, seeing how immersed Roy was. “You’ll memorize at least two pages of this book every night, and I’ll give you a test the very next day.”

Roy nodded quickly. The knowledge contained in the book was enough to complement the ones he got from the training.

Serrit said, “Auckes will start training your swordsmanship at five in the morning tomorrow, then that’ll be followed by Letho’s alchemy lessons. My lesson is at night.”

“Understood.”

After Serrit left, Roy lay on his bed and concentrated on his character sheet.

‘Level 5 Witcher (2610/2500)’

I wonder what’s the maximum EXP I can accumulate? Roy was in no hurry to level up. He wanted to keep an extra ‘life’ in case anything bad were to happen.

***

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