Newborn

"Ailin, Huus, Bont, Fred..."

Worried cries arose.

The next moment, a figure carrying a steel sword jumped in from the darkness outside the window.

It is Vesemir.

When Vesemir jumped into the room, the first thing he saw was Ailin standing there blankly, and he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thankfully, Ailin is alright."

His gaze then shifted downwards, sweeping over the heads and half-corpses on the ground.

Vesemir paused for a moment, then his expression changed drastically.

Dragging bloodstains, a pale, blood-stained face, a helpless, supine posture...

"Bont is seriously injured!"

With a flash, the Witcher Master, his heart filled with anxiety and worry, instantly appeared beside the three.

He carefully lifted Bont's forearm, and the hand, wrapped in burlap, fell limply to the ground.

The Witcher Master's heart skipped a beat.

Gently untying the burlap, the gruesome, torn flesh was immediately revealed, and gushing blood began to slowly flow from the wound.

The killer who inflicted the wound was highly skilled with a sword, skillfully avoiding the arteries and severing all the fascia and nerves in Bont's hand.

This... this kind of injury...

"Master Vesemir, I feel like I can't feel my hands and feet anymore. Am I... am I never going to be able to hold a sword again!"

Bont's little face was contorted with grief, and the caution, fear, and hope in his voice made the people around him lower their heads in sympathy.

They were all swordsmen.

Even if they don't need to accept murder commissions like the School of the Cat, the human body structure is still a required course for them.

Only by understanding your own physical weaknesses can you better protect yourself in battle.

So, including Bont himself, they all knew what such an injury meant.

Bont could no longer hold a sword; he even had trouble walking normally.

Huus and Fred had been intentionally or unintentionally avoiding Bont's gaze since earlier, and upon hearing this, tears welled up in their eyes.

Seven years of heart-pounding "choices," a week of extreme pain between life and death, a trial of struggling grass and dreams...

They finally became qualified free witchers by stepping over mountains of their comrades' corpses.

Surprisingly, it wasn't because of monsters, but because of a cruel and shameless "fellow human," that his demon hunter career ended prematurely.

"Damn School of the Cat bastards!"

Vesemir cursed through gritted teeth, then looked at Bont with some sadness and shame, and said:

"I'm sorry, I didn't get here in time."

"Ailin has avenged me." Bont interrupted Vesemir's self-reproach, then looked gratefully at Ailin, whose face showed remorse.

Bont could tell from Vesemir's expression after the examination...

His identity as a Witcher has come to an end today.

After giving up hope, Bont comforted his companions, saying:

"If you hadn't arrived in time, I might be dead. I'm lucky to still be alive."

"As for Master Vesemir, we all heard the sounds of fierce fighting coming from your room, it's not your fault..."

"Master Vesemir, is there really no way to help Bont?" Ailin couldn't help but ask. "I learned from Lady Vesemir that the tree spirits of Brokilon Forest have very high healing abilities."

He remembered that in the original story, Geralt was beaten by Vigo Fortress, suffering severe fractures to his ribs, knees, and head, but ultimately recovered thanks to the combined effects of the Dryads and the magical Brokilon Water.

There's no reason why Bont's "minor injury" is unacceptable.

Upon hearing Ailin's words, a spark of hope ignited in Bont's eyes.

"Yes, Master Vesemir, can we take Bont to find those tree spirits?"

Huus and Fred also became excited, looking at Vesemir expectantly.

Vesemir shook his head, his face grim, sighed, and said:

"As Ailin said, the tree spirits of Brochlon might really be able to heal Bont's wounds."

"But..."

"But the tree spirits are very unfriendly to the witchers now."

"Some of our radical colleagues accepted a commission a few years ago from King Brugge to hunt down tree spirits near the Brokilon Forest ..."

"They can't possibly help us treat Bont..."

Ailin's face darkened upon hearing this.

Damn it, no wonder Vesemir looked like he had no ideas; it turns out there really was a problem with the tree spirit.

Are there other hunters hunting tree spirits?

Those already extreme intelligent beings probably have a more than just unfriendly attitude towards witchers, right?

Sending Bont there would likely result in him being shot deadly from the shadows before he even had a chance to venture deep into the forest.

"Is there really no way to treat Bont's injuries?"

Looking at Bont's pale, youthful face, Ailin felt a sudden sense of powerlessness.

"Etc..."

Vesemir suddenly seemed to remember something and gave Ailin a strange look.

"Perhaps there really is hope."

"What hope?" Ailin ignored Vesemir's strange expression and quickly asked.

The Witcher Master considered his words carefully and said:

"Lady Vesemir is Alchemy Master. I remember she can concoct a potion that might help Bont ..."

At this point, his gaze suddenly fell on the exquisite hilt of Elsa's sword behind Ailin, and he recalled the exorbitant price of that potion in his memory.

Even if it happened suddenly, it is understandable.

As a Witcher representing the School of the Wolf in the tournament, Vesemir cannot escape responsibility.

Therefore, he will likely have to pay for most of the potions for his apprentices.

Thinking of this, Vesemir paused for a moment, then said with a hint of regret:

"I can negotiate with the school of thought to pay for the preparation of the potion."

"But how to persuade Lady Vesemir to help is up to you, Ailin."

Yes!

How could I have forgotten about Lady Vesemir?

Ailin scratched his head in frustration.

but...

Is Lady Vesemir that scary?

Ailin glanced strangely at Vesemir, who had suddenly fallen ill and whose lips were twitching, but didn't think too much about it and nodded seriously.

"Don't worry, I'll ask Lady Vesemir for help right away."

As he spoke, he took out a Crystal Bird from his pocket and was about to send his thoughts into it so that Mary could ask Lady Vesemir to prepare the potion.

Suddenly realizing he didn't know the name of the potion, I asked:

"By the way, what's the name of that potion? I'll use a magic item to send a message to Mary now."

"Veridian Sigh."

Vesemir remembered the name of the potion very clearly because the chief had said that this potion was worth a piece of Elsa on the black market.

Veridian Sigh?

The name sounds quite nice.

Ailin thought to himself.

He then transmitted the message into the lovebird's body, went to the windowsill, and released it.

He watched as the lovebird fluttered its glistening wings and flew into the deep darkness, when suddenly he heard Vesemir's voice.

"Actually, you've all drunk this potion."

Ailin turned around in surprise upon hearing this.

"Have we all drunk it?"

Huus and Fred looked at each other and then said in unison.

Knowing that Bont had a chance to be restored to its original state, Vesemir breathed a sigh of relief and nodded with a smile:

"It was the emerald green potion that Lady Vesemir gave you when we returned to Kaer Morhen through the portal after the Trial of the Mountains ended."

"Ah?"

Just as the other apprentices were still trying to recall, Ailin suddenly exclaimed.

He quickly opened the reagent pouch at his waist and took out a beautifully decorated, obviously very expensive crystal bottle from the corner.

"Master Vesemir, is the Veridian Sigh' you spoke of this potion?"

Ailin shook the crystal bottle.

The emerald green liquid sloshed in the bottle, shimmering with a captivating, jade-like luster.

Looking closely, it's as if you can vaguely see a vibrant forest.

"It's...it's...it's this," Vesemir stammered after examining it carefully for a moment. "How did you get this potion?"

"Lady Vesemir gave it to me?"

Ailin pulled two more identical bottles of Veridian Sigh from his bag. "I have two more bottles in my reagent kit. Is there a problem?"

These bottles of potions were given to him by the Sorceress on the day he discovered the strange Jingguan, when she had him practice the mist-transforming skill of the magic item "Foglet Arm Bone".

However, due to habitual thrift, it was never used during later practice.

therefore.

These three bottles of potions had always been lying at the very back of his reagent kit; if Vesemir hadn't mentioned them, Ailin would have almost forgotten about them.

Upon hearing Ailin's words, Vesemir opened his mouth slightly, speechless.

He glanced at the young witcher apprentice, wanting to ask Ailin if he knew anything about it.

This "Veridian Sigh," which he casually placed in his reagent kit, was in the same narrow space as other ordinary women. A single bottle of it was worth a Elsa's Silver Sword worth 17,325 Oren.

In other words...

Every day, Ailin would flaunt his immense wealth, worth four Elsa swords, in front of Vesemir.

"But Master Vesemir, isn't this potion only supposed to relieve the dizziness caused by passing through the portal?"

"Are you sure it will work on Bont's injuries?"

"Isaiah? "Ailin asked, puzzled.

The words had barely left his mouth.

A long, bewildering silence descended upon the narrow, rusty room.

Vesemir sighed dejectedly, looking at the innocent young witcher, and suddenly didn't want to explain anything anymore.

That's outrageous!

While he was still working hard to take on commissions and take care of children for his second Elsa.

Ailin, the darling of fate, actually uses a potion worth the same as Elsa's on a daily basis. It's a high-level potion that can slow down aging, increase lifespan, and eliminate the side effects of time travel!

A sudden, overwhelming sense of powerlessness washed over me.

Vesemir sighed again, waved his hand casually, and said:

"Give it a try, it should work."

"The Veridian Sigh" can even heal the old wounds of a Witcher, so there's no reason it can't heal Bont's injuries.

Ailin, who couldn't understand why the Witcher Master's emotions changed so quickly, handed the Veridian Sigh to Fred.

"Pop~"

"Gurgle gurgle~"

After Fred fed the potion to Bont, several witchers gathered around, looking at Bont with expectant expressions.

A minute passed quickly.

The witchers stared at each other, and Bont's face seemed to have turned a little redder.

He tried to move his wrist, but there was no reaction.

The light of hope in everyone's eyes gradually dimmed.

Several young witchers subconsciously looked at Vesemir, making the Witcher Master's heart flutter with unease, wondering if Veridian Sigh really was useless.

Ah~

Bont suddenly let out a scream, his back arching backward.

Vesemir looked at the young witcher in agony, and instead of being surprised, he was delighted; his eyes lit up.

No matter how much it hurts, it's okay; what I'm afraid of is that nothing will change.

Several Witchers had drunk the Veridian Sigh, but they didn't have such a strong reaction back then.

"Quick! Quick! Quickly pin Bont down!"

Vesemir shouted, and several young witchers rushed forward to subdue him.

"Shh~"

The leather armor, soaked in blood, rubbed against the ground, and roars and teeth grinding kept coming out of Bont's mouth.

Upon seeing this, Vesemir immediately picked up a wad of burlap from the pool of blood and stuffed it into his mouth.

To prevent him from biting off his own tongue.

Not long after.

"Smack!"

Fred's face was suddenly slapped hard.

Fred paused for a moment, then burst out laughing as he watched the hand struggling and flailing in mid-air.

"Hahaha... It works! Ailin... Bont! It's effective!"

Genuine smiles appeared on everyone's faces, and they pressed Bont's body down even harder.

About ten minutes later.

The young witcher stopped struggling, and large beads of sweat dripped from everyone's foreheads, mingling with the dried blood on the ground.

"Bont, how are you feeling?"

Everyone tacitly released the body that was pressing down on the young witcher, and watched expectantly as Bont got up, moved his body, and untied the rough strips of cloth binding his limbs.

The gruesome, torn flesh had now healed, leaving only a faint, long white stripe.

"I feel great right now."

Bont took a deep breath, grinned at Ailin and the others, showing off his gleaming front teeth, then picked up the steel sword from the ground and quickly twirled it.

"Phew~"

The sword blade sliced through the air, creating a whooshing sound.

Bont was like a drowning man who had suddenly breathed in air, so engrossed in the buzzing sound of the sword as it was being swung that he didn't stop for a while.

The first thing he did when he turned to look at his fellow Witcher was to place his gaze on Ailin.

However, strangely, he didn't say anything. After staring at Ailin for a few seconds, he nodded to his companions and excitedly shouted:

"I can hunt monsters like a demon hunter again!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Ailin's body suddenly stiffened almost imperceptibly.

The familiar, cold, mechanical voice rang in my ears.

[Ding! Legion member Bont's favorability has increased to 100% loyal (+4)]

[Ding! Your Legion Skill: Resonance LV1 has been upgraded to Resonance LV2]

This is truly an unexpected delight!

Ailin looked at Bont.

He was gently comforting Fred and Huus, who were terrified by Bont's tragic state, his right hand gripping the ordinary steel sword tightly as if it were his own life.

"Master Vesemir? Are you alright?"

Bob, the hotel owner, interrupted their conversation from the doorway.

"Fine."

After shouting, Vesemir looked at the chaotic scene before him, sighed, and then said:

"Go downstairs and wait for me. I'll be down in a bit."

"Yes, Master Vesemir."

Bob responded with a sigh of relief, his footsteps quietly fading away.

Ailin followed Vesemir's gaze and looked at the corpse on the floor.

Two School of the Cat witchers he had knocked unconscious suddenly flashed through his mind.