Child of Miracle

The man said nothing upon hearing the woman's long sigh.

Perhaps he didn't know what to say.

Finally.

The woman pushed the man away.

With a snap of her fingers, she tidied her appearance.

The Sorceress looked up expressionlessly, "What do you need me for?"

Her makeup was as exquisite as it had been for decades, her voice utterly steady.

If the Witcher hadn't looked down and seen his chest was still wet, he would have thought the whole thing was a hallucination.

Snap

Another snap of her fingers.

Warm air, imbued with magic, swept over him, and his red padded armor was restored to how it had been before he entered.

"Still the same as always!"

The Witcher exclaimed with a touch of nostalgia.

He then stopped his wandering thoughts, organized his words, and said, "When I was returning to Kaer Morhen, I passed through Adal Aen."

"Haxor summoned me and told me two things."

The Sorceress asked with great interest, "What did the Big Eater say?"

"One was about non-humans. Haxor asked me how I viewed elves."

"And what did you say?"

Before the Witcher could answer, he was interrupted.

"Never mind, no need to say it. It's probably about the School of the Wolf adhering to neutrality, and so on." The Sorceress seemed accustomed to it.

The Witcher said helplessly, "That's exactly what I said."

"The Path of Glory cannot be desecrated. The School of the Wolf's targets are only dangerous monsters."

"The Path of Glory?" The Sorceress conjured a bottle of red wine and a glass, poured a generous amount of the fine wine, and sighed, "Except for Toussaint and knightly novels, I haven't heard that term anywhere else in a long time."

"And then, my 'knight'."

The Witcher, catching the scent of wine evaporating into the air, asked helplessly, "Before that, aren't you going to pour me a glass as well?"

"I'm not planning to," the Sorceress said, shaking the red liquid in her glass as she refused. "I'm in a very bad mood right now and don't want to share anything with anyone."

Swallowing hard, the Witcher could only continue, "Next year, on the spring equinox, he's arranged a competition."

"A competition?" The Sorceress's interest was piqued.

"Yes, an apprentice competition between the School of the Wolf and the School of the Cat."

"You agreed?" The Sorceress put down her wine glass, her expression shifting.

"I had no choice but to agree. The victorious school will receive double the funding each year."

The Sorceress asked, "And the loser gets nothing?"

"Yes, nothing at all, including their original funding."

"I have a feeling these two matters are connected, but..."

The Witcher paused, then sighed and earnestly pleaded, "Vesemir, you know."

"No matter how powerful a monster, even a dragon, I've never feared them."

"But politics... it's not my strong suit, nor is it for the other Witchers of the School of the Wolf. So..."

"Vesemir, use your wisdom to help me, just like when the Witcher Conclave fell apart, guide me once more."

Vesemir raised her wine glass, took a sip of the mellow red wine, and replied coldly, "Don't call me Vesemir. We haven't been in that kind of relationship for a long time."

Raising her hand to stop the Witcher's attempt to explain, the Sorceress continued, "However, considering you still remember the promise from ten years ago, I'll help you gather information."

"A promise? Did you see the Phantasm Pendant?"

"Not only did I see it," Vesemir chuckled as if recalling something amusing, "After ten years, that pendant almost returned to its creator's hands."

Immediately after, the Sorceress's expression quickly dimmed, as if she had thought of something.

She stood up from her seat and slowly walked to the cold windowsill. With her eyebrows lowered, she gazed westward from the tower, lost in thought.

Watching the woman who had been laughing heartily moments ago suddenly become dejected and sad, the Witcher thought:

"Just like before, nothing has changed at all."

Ignoring the noise in the Witcher's mind, the Sorceress softly chanted with a hint of daze, "Know that the time of sword and axe is near, for it is the Era of the Cold Wolf and Blizzard..."

"The world will die in frost and be reborn under the new sun."

"Ess'tuath esse! This is inevitable! Heed the signs!"

"To know the signs..."

She paused, her voice growing softer, more ethereal.

Her clear, cool voice was barely audible.

As if from the heavens high above the Blue Mountains.

"First... Filius Miraculi—the Child of Miracles—is born in a land of bitter cold..."

"Death and rebirth, the inhuman brings blood and fire..."

"The prophecy of the Prophetess Ithlinne," the Witcher said complexly after listening silently to the Sorceress's recitation. "Vesemir, the Child of Miracles has crossed the grave of death and is about to be reborn..."

The Sorceress continued to gaze into the distance, leaving him only with her graceful, silent back.

After a moment of hesitation, the Witcher slowly walked over, gently put his arm around the Sorceress's shoulders, and said, "Don't worry, Vi."

"Just as the prophecy says, our child will be reborn..."

Vesemir sighed, tightened her grip on the Witcher's arm, and closed her eyes.

"Soyer."

The Witcher, Soyer, responded gently, "I'm here."

"Do you think he'll hate me?"

Before Soyer could answer, Vesemir murmured sadly, "He will hate me..."

"He definitely will..."

Soyer sighed deeply and looked up at the snow-capped peaks of the Blue Mountains.

He said nothing.

Ailin, of course, had no idea at this time that the Chieftain of the School of the Wolf and the Sorceress Vesemir were his birth parents.

The thought had never even crossed his mind.

After all, according to the game's setting, Witchers and Sorceresses were incapable of having offspring.

It was different for Sorceresses; there were at least cases of them giving birth.

For Witchers, however, not a single example could be found.

For two professions incapable of reproduction to combine, the probability of having offspring was no different from zero.

After leaving the tower, Ailin didn't rush back to the dormitory.

He ambled along the main path towards the apprentice dormitories, his mind constantly occupied with those 9950 Lesser Experience Orbs.

The solution to the problem was simple.

Either reduce the demand through learning, or increase the supply through hunting.

The tricky part was the time frame.

He had to learn Alchemy before the Trial of the Mountains, which was within a month.

It was almost impossible to catch up with the progress he was making solely through the Sorceress's lectures.

And it was also impossible to gather the required Experience Orbs through Vesemir's practical lessons, which happened only every few days.

"I must change the status quo!" Ailin thought.

Vesemir's alchemy lessons couldn't stop; this was Ailin's only channel for acquiring alchemy knowledge.

The Experience Orbs needed to unlock Alchemy could potentially be greatly reduced through learning.

As a student, he had no right to ask Vesemir to speed up the process.

Therefore, he could only change the current situation of hunting monsters.

And to hunt more monsters, he could only...

"Leave Kaer Morhen!"

As his thoughts gradually cleared, Ailin became increasingly certain that only by going out to hunt could he resolve his current predicament.

Outside the magnificent castle, there were countless Drowners.

It wasn't just drowners, either.

Nekkers, foglets, ghouls...

These were all targets Ailin could hunt.

More importantly, as the variety and quantity of huntable creatures increased, so did the chances of triggering quests.

Who knew, maybe completing a few quests would directly reward him with Alchemy LV2.

"But... how do I leave Kaer Morhen?"

Ailin murmured to himself.

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