The Match Isn't Over, but the School of the Wolf Has Won
The bugle call had just ended.
The male wizards and future male wizards in the audience started making a ruckus.
Amid the cheering crowd, several Sorcerer Apprentice, carrying plates, carefully wandered around, avoiding the wizards maintaining order.
That was a male sorcerer who ran a betting operation in secret.
A wizard had just finished paying and received his betting slip when his companion yelled at him:
"Bogdan, are you crazy? How could you bet on the School of the Wolf to win the first game?"
The wizard named Bogdan, holding the slip of paper as proof, scratched his head:
"What's wrong, Radek?"
"Aren't the School of the Wolf the most orthodox Witcher?"
"I've heard that both the mutation formula and the training are far superior to those of the School of the Cat!"
"You read all of this in books, right?" Radek also bought twenty Oren, but he bought the School of the Cat winnings.
"No, that's not it..." Bogdan glanced at Radek curiously and shook his head. "A few days ago, the professor mentioned something in history class. Did he say something wrong?"
Radek didn't answer immediately, but instead asked, "How much did you buy?"
"Five Oren".
"That's alright, consider it tuition!" Radek nodded and explained:
"You're from Novigrad, so you don't know."
"Every few years, Kedwen holds a fighting tournament between the School of the Wolf and the School of the Cat. Anyone who has watched a few of these tournaments knows this."
"The School of the Wolf is weak in swordsmanship but strong in hunting monsters."
"The School of the Cat, however, is exactly the opposite."
"How many matches have you watched?" Bogdan interrupted curiously. Those who traveled all the way to Kedwen to learn magic were certainly not lacking in the five Oren.
So he didn't care when he heard that he was sure he would lose.
"Both times, my father took me to see it," Radek held up two fingers and continued:
"In the past, most of the time, the first and second matches were one-on-one sword duels and monster hunting."
"The winners of these two competitions are fixed, and there are very few surprises."
"My father told me that these two competitions were less about fighting for victory or the prize money, and more about the two schools of thought promoting their respective skills."
"For demon hunting commissions, go to the School of the Wolf; for murder commissions, go to the School of the Cat."
"Of course, it's said that the relationship between these two schools of thought isn't that good; it might just be a tacit understanding?"
Radek's tone was somewhat uncertain.
Bogdan nodded thoughtfully.
Radek's assessment of the two rows of Witchers is quite credible.
After all, his father was the Earl of West Kedwen, and a great nobleman who governed his territory with great efficiency.
"What about the free-for-all?" Bogdan glanced at the center of the arena.
The two sides of witchers have begun probing attacks.
At this point, it's still unclear whether the School of the Wolf or the School of the Cat has a greater advantage.
The School of the Wolf's offensive was slightly more conservative, but it was able to completely block the School of the Cat's attacks.
Radek also kept his eyes on the center of the field.
He didn't turn around, and continued:
"The chaotic battles are the most unpredictable matches in every fighting tournament."
"Sword-fighting group battles, magic sign group battles, battles with monsters, battles without monsters... there have even been battles with the personal guards of third-party kings."
"My father once said: These various forms of chaos can actually subtly express certain attitudes and inclinations of the king."
manner?
tendency?
Bogdan lowered his head and pondered.
The School of the Wolf excels at monster slaying but not swordsmanship, and the king uses this chaotic melee style...
so...
"The trend of this match..." Bogdan continued curiously, "Does your king hope the School of the Cat will win?"
The main grandstand of the arena.
Watching the School of the Wolf witchers cower and dodge the attack, Haxor swirled his crystal goblet with satisfaction.
He didn't really care about winning or losing the match, but seeing the man next to him suffer a setback still made him feel genuinely happy.
The translucent, blood-red liquor was under his control, swirling in the glass.
"And this is just the beginning," Haxor thought.
Soyer would watch as his school's students were killed one by one.
Then, when his emotions were at their most intense and he was least on guard, he was stabbed in the heart by the leader of the School of the Cat, whom he despised the most!
He had imagined this scene many times in the past few days.
Each time, I would excitedly drink several more glasses of wine and eat several more bites of meat.
Even though this game was originally scheduled for last place, Haxor couldn't resist moving it to first place this morning.
He wanted Soyer and his School of the Wolf to disappear from the world as quickly as possible, even if only for a moment!
He downed the wine in his glass in one gulp, then glanced at the School of the Wolf's clearly disadvantaged position in the battle.
Haxor tilted his head, looking at Soyer with a hint of amusement, and asked:
"Grandmaster, who do you think will win this chaotic battle?"
Soyer glanced at Haxor expressionlessly.
"Of course I hope our School of the Wolf can win, but the School of the Cat is indeed stronger than us in swordsmanship..."
Haxor's smile widened, his fat cheeks bunching up.
"Oh, right..."
"Speaking of the School of the Cat, what about Tresius?"
Soyer suddenly asked.
"You invited me, but didn't you invite him to come along too?"
He discovered?
Haxor's fat jiggled.
He glanced at Soyer carefully before pretending to be nonchalant and looking towards the arena, saying:
"Of course I'm invited!"
"But he rejected me; perhaps he had other things to do!"
"Never mind him, let's keep watching the game!"
Upon hearing this, Soyer gave King Kedwen a deep look.
He glanced again at the Vice Dean Jens Ade, who was standing next to him, wearing a pointed hat and smiling. He then looked down at the arena.
"Clang!"
"Clang!"
"Clang!"
The clanging of metal against metal echoed continuously from the arena.
Guksat, standing to the side, saw the School of the Wolf's witchers being suppressed by their own people.
There was no joy on his face; instead, his brows furrowed.
Neither the wizard nor the king knew swordsmanship.
Seeing only the School of the Cat witchers attacking and the School of the Wolf witchers defending, one might assume they have the upper hand.
But Guksat wouldn't think that way.
Watching the School of the Wolf witchers' fluid dodges and attacks in the arena, he couldn't help but clench his fist.
"What happened?"
"How can these School of the Wolf witchers be so strong?"
"Did they cheat too?"
"The dexterity and fluidity of this swordsmanship are something a newly minted witcher shouldn't possess!"
"Especially that witcher named Ailin!"
Guksat looked solemnly at the School of the Wolf witcher with blue Cat Eyes.
The other Witchers from the School of the Wolf, while also surprising him in strength, especially in swordsmanship.
However, under the overwhelming power of the School of the Cat Witchers, they could only rely on their excellent skills to barely deflect and dodge.
But Ailin is different.
While dealing with his own opponents, he still had the energy to help his other companions defend against attacks.
Whether it's strength, speed, dexterity, or swordsmanship, he far surpasses other witchers.
"Fortunately, I made the tough decision this morning and had Baleka and the others take the pills. With the pills taking effect, the School of the Wolf has no chance of winning!"
Guksat pursed his lips and clenched his fist:
"If I were truly merciful, I certainly wouldn't even be able to achieve the goals outlined in the plan!"
"This absolutely cannot happen!"
"Clang!"
The clang of metal rang out.
A flash of cold light was deflected by Ailin's sword.
Feeling the violent force emanating from the steel sword in his hand, Ailin was quite surprised.
During the previous probing, the strength of those cat-faction witchers was still at a normal level.
The swordsmanship was just like the School of the Cat Two-Handed Sword LV1, which was not unexpected for them.
But now.
The witchers swung their swords with increasing force.
And it's not just about strength.
The reaction speed is getting faster and faster.
They are becoming increasingly accurate in timing their dodges and attacks.
As Erin pondered this, Ailin frowned.
He kicked the School of the Cat witcher in front of him away.
With a thought, he gave the School of the Cat witcher in front of him an appraisal.
Although he had appraised all four Witchers of the School of the Cat when the horn first sounded.
But now.
The four witchers around him, with bulging veins, flushed faces, and heavy breathing, clearly had other problems.
Name: Baleka
[Attributes: Strength 21 (+1), Agility 22 (+1), Constitution 18 (+1), Perception 26 (+1), Mysticism 3]
The moment he saw the enemy's panel, his blue pupils contracted sharply.
Things have changed!
It's not an illusion!
Aside from their mystique, all of these School of the Cat witchers are improving their attributes.
Just then.
"Watch out! Ailin!"
As Huus's voice warned him from behind, Ailin's ears twitched, and he turned around to strike with his sword.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The swift and frantic thrust was precisely blocked by him.
But Ailin felt that each sword strike was several times stronger than the last.
Bloodshot, cloudy yellow Cat Eyes were right in front of me, expanding and contracting!
It was extremely strange.
The next moment.
The owner of those eerie Cat Eyes used Ailin's immense strength to leap back.
Then, he sidestepped Huus's spinning sword strike and engaged Huus in combat again.
Ailin subconsciously gave him an assessment as well.
Name: Geoffrey
[Attributes: Strength 23 (+1), Agility 26 (+1), Constitution 17 (+1), Perception 21 (+1), Mysticism 6]
"This one too!"
Ailin quickly glanced at the other two School of the Cat Witchers.
No need to think about it, the other Witchers must be the same.
"Despicable scum of the School of the Cat!"
"Not only did he lie about his age, but he also took performance-enhancing drugs!"
Ailin gritted his teeth and cursed inwardly.
The Witchers of the School of the Wolf have always relied solely on their own efforts!
At this time.
The Ailin, whose face was flushed red, yelled "Ahhh!" and swung his sword at me!
Their attacks were completely unrestrained, all aimed at Ailin's vital points or joints and bones.
"Clang!"
"Clang!"
Sparks flew as the swords clashed.
This can't go on any longer!
Ailin thought to himself.
Feel the increasing weight of the power emanating from the steel sword.
An attack of that force, even if it doesn't hit the neck or head, would certainly fracture bones and render the victim immobile.
He glanced at his companion.
Huus, Bont, and Fred managed to hold off their opponents using their level 3 School of the Wolf Two-Handed Sword.
But obviously.
As the opponent's attributes continue to improve, there will always be a moment when they are hit.
Ailin originally intended to conceal his strength.
After all, for a Witcher who has just passed the trial, his attributes and swordsmanship are far too astonishing.
Incidentally, these School of the Cat witchers can also be used to give Huus, Bont, and Fred some practical experience, and also allow Bont to get revenge and resolve his inner conflict.
But now.
If the strength of these few School of the Cat witchers were to be further improved.
Huus, Bont, and Fred are in great danger.
Although Vesemir was not far away, the wooden gate of the stockade separated them, and in the midst of the battle, how could they possibly catch up?
The decision has been made.
at the same time.
Baleka, the School of the Cat witcher, wielded his longsword, which gleamed with a chilling light, and swiftly slashed down.
Ailin's gaze sharpened, and his blue Cat Eyes suddenly contracted.
My heart rate increased, and all the muscles in my body expanded instantly within a second.
Like a long-starved lion that suddenly spots its prey.
Then in the next instant.
He pushed off the ground with his hind legs, gripped the longsword tightly with both hands, and thrust it upwards with a sudden movement.
"Clang!"
Like a volcanic eruption, a sudden and violent burst of power instantly knocked the longsword out of Baleka's hand.
Before he could even react to what had happened...
The next moment.
The cold light that knocked the longsword out of Baleka's hand suddenly fell.
"Snap!"
"Snap!"
Within one second.
This School of the Cat witcher has broken both his arms and thighs.
With a "thump".
Before he even had a chance to feel any pain—perhaps even Baleka, who had taken some unknown pill, wouldn't feel it—he was in a state of flux.
He fell into the yellowish-brown dust and completely lost the ability to move.
Ailin knew that these School of the Cat witchers were definitely fighting with the intention of killing them.
But there are so many people watching here after all.
He didn't want the School of the Wolf to bear the infamy of killing its own kind because of him.
It's not worth it because of some scum from the School of the Cat!
There's plenty of time in the future, let's let them go for now.
The noisy arena suddenly fell silent the moment Baleka collapsed.
Silently.
Everyone stared in disbelief at the scene.
All of this happened so suddenly.
One second the eight people were evenly matched, and the School of the Wolf witchers were even at a disadvantage.
How come, just a second later, a School of the Cat Witcher suddenly had both legs and arms broken?
"Impossible!"
Incredulous sounds came simultaneously from the arena and the main stage.
The voice came from King Haxor of Guksat and Kedwen.
It's understandable that Guksat was standing in the waiting area of School of the Cat.
Therefore, everyone's attention was focused on Haxor.
Haxor himself realized something was wrong.
After mentally cursing "these useless School of the Cat".
Under the strange gaze of the Grandmaster of the School of the Wolf, he coughed lightly, clapped his hands, and praised with a somewhat stiff smile:
"A fantastic match!"
"Truly brilliant!" Ben Ade's vice-principal, Jens, also clapped in agreement.
The next second.
A strange sight appeared.
The competition was clearly not over yet; the participants were still fighting fiercely.
But thunderous applause gradually erupted in the arena.
"Is the match over? Who won?"
Bogdan, the Sorcerer Apprentice who came from Novigrad to study in Kedwen, was only just awakened by the applause.
He got up too early today, got a terrible spot, and wasn't interested in sword fighting among witchers.
Not long after the starting horn sounded, he leaned against the wall and fell asleep.
Radek's expression was complicated.
He turned to look at the few companions in the arena who had bet on the School of the Wolf to win, sighed, and said:
"The competition isn't over yet, but the School of the Wolf has won."
Bogdan:?