Three "Nukes," a Fallen Witcher Master

The battle is still ongoing, but it is not intense; more accurately, it is one-sided.

After Ailin beheaded the Giant Ghoul with a single sword strike, he did not land on the ground.

With his right foot lightly touching the sharp black spikes as if it were weightless, he flipped over and swept over the heads of several Ghoul.

Blazing flames burst forth from his palms like thick columns of water.

With a slight sway of the arm.

Behind the Ghoul horde, a dozen or so Rotfiend were set ablaze one after another.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The explosions echoed, startling the birds in the forest, who flew up from the treetops in alarm.

Kray couldn't help but slow his pace, and he saw that the other witchers were doing the same.

Because after Ailin detonated those Rotfiend, she seemed not to have had enough.

He used the shockwave from the massive explosion to rush to the center of the Ghoul horde.

Chaotic footsteps danced amidst the throng of monsters.

The silver sword gleamed with a captivating light, like a butterfly flitting into a flowerbed, gracefully tapping the heads of the many Ghoul.

In the blink of an eye, the nearly one hundred carnivorous creatures had dwindled to less than thirty... twenty... fifteen...

But the young witchers hadn't even entered the battlefield yet.

"The commander... doesn't seem to intend to share the prey with us..."

Kray swallowed hard, a sense of despair washing over him as he looked at the figure still dancing amidst the corpses.

Because the Ghoul closest to him, only five steps away, had just been beheaded by Ailin with a single sword strike.

"Is that even a question?"

Ernie, who was not far from him, also stopped, sighed, and watched for two seconds with reluctance before sheathing his sword.

He was just fighting with Kray for the same Ghoul, but the leader went berserk and didn't even leave them a single Ghoul.

"These past two days, Ailin has been watching you hunt Ghoul, and he's probably been itching to get out of it," Vesemir shrugged at the young witchers. "Let him vent."

Let him vent.

Is this asking for our opinion?

Do we still have the right to decide this?

By the time we got to the battlefield, the commander had already killed all the Ghoul. Why would he need to ask for our opinion?

The young witcher thought to himself.

They watched as Ailin moved effortlessly and gracefully through the Ghoul in the center of the battlefield, as if dancing at a nobleman's ball, and their hearts were filled with turmoil.

"Is the commander really about the same age as us?" Kray asked in his mind.

No one answered.

Because this is also their question.

Even if they are fully aware of this, they will still ask themselves the same questions after witnessing the astonishing disparity countless times.

"Of course," Vesemir said with a smirk, looking at the figures in the monster horde and pulling down the brim of his black hat. "Ailin is fourteen years old this year. He only passed the Trial of the Mountains last winter, so he's at most two years older than you."

Kray counted on his fingers. "The captain can even do alchemy, create Sword Oil, and make potion recipes..."

"And the signs..." Aias added, "The Ice Lance Spell was also the leader's idea."

"Not only that, there's also ritual studies," Klar added. "I heard from the priests at the temple that the leader is also highly accomplished in ritual studies, having learned everything High Priest Ianna had learned in a single month..."

"Which priest told you that?" Spencer poked his curious little head out, tilting his head to the side.

"Ni..." Klar had only uttered one word when she realized something was wrong, swallowed back the rest of her words, and her face turned bright red.

Unfortunately, a kind person helped him continue the conversation.

"Nina," Aias chuckled twice, "The temple's apprentice priests, I saw them sneaking around in the grove behind the house the day before yesterday..."

"Ah!"

Klar shouted, interrupting Aias, then drew his steel sword and slashed at him. "Damn big-mouthed monster, shut your mouth!"

"Help!" Aias chuckled and began to flee.

The other witchers egged them on, betting on when Klar would hit Aias, using the maintenance of his longsword and leather armor lining as stakes.

Kray didn't participate. Instead, he looked at Ailin in the center of the battlefield, who had begun to clear out the last few ghouls, and suddenly an idea came to him.

"Master Vesemir ..." He turned his head to look at Vesemir, who had taken off his wide-brimmed hat and was smiling.

"What's wrong?"

Kray tilted his head and asked curiously, "You and Ailin are both Witcher Master of the School of the Wolf, so which of you is stronger?"

The words had barely left his mouth.

The surrounding air suddenly seemed to freeze.

The young witchers, discussing the outcome of the battle between Klar and Aias, subconsciously lowered their voices. Even Klar and Aias themselves twitched their ears and slowed their pursuit considerably.

Vesemir's smile froze, his dark golden Cat Eyes glanced at Kray, and he opened his mouth.

"Of course it's Vesemir."

Ailin's voice came from the center of the battlefield, interrupting Vesemir.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

Ailin performed a stylish sword flourish, flicked away imaginary blood from his longsword, and walked towards them.

"Really?" Kray's tone was clearly skeptical.

"Certainly."

Ailin smiled and sheathed Elsa's sword, "Last time, Vesemir and I even had a sword duel inside the temple..."

"And the result?" Ernie asked expectantly, though she had guessed what the captain would say.

The other witchers also looked at Ailin expectantly.

"I used the Giant Ghoul Decoction and the Blizzard Potion to beat Vesemir," Ailin patted Ernie on the shoulder. "In a contest, I lost."

The young witcher looked on incredulously.

Potions certainly count towards a Witcher's skill level.

However, in internal competitions, Witchers still value pure swordsmanship, perhaps with the addition of signs at most.

Because potions and Sword Oil are used to fight monsters, and they are external items.

The young Witcher still retains the simple values of a warrior.

and...

Although they had never used the Giant Ghoul Decoction or the Blizzard Potion, Ailin had inspired them with the effects of these two potions, so they all knew how powerful they were.

The guild leader used the Giant Ghoul Decoction and the Blizzard Potion to defeat Master Vesemir.

The young witchers exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions clearly saying, "Is Master Vesemir really that strong?"

Back in Kaer Morhen, the commander even defeated the hot-tempered bearded Aristo.

They turned their heads to look at Vesemir.

Although it is impolite, Master Vesemir was always a man who valued his reputation, was strict, and never lied.

"That's right," Vesemir glanced at Ailin with a complicated expression and nodded. "I did win that time."

"When was it..." the young witcher wanted to ask again.

Ailin interrupted them again, "Have you all learned Berserk?"

"Whoever among you is the first to learn Berserk will also receive the Giant Ghoul Decoction and the Blizzard Potion..."

Although she was in a weak state these past two days and could do almost nothing, Ailin did not waste her time.

Aside from hunting carnivorous creatures and earning Combat Points under Vesemir's protection, while following the young witcher with his aura activated, he had been thinking about how to pass on the Beast Howl to others.

Because "Rage" is the first skill of the Path of the Beast Roar, and there is both "Beast Howl: Rage" and the normal version "Battle Cry: Rage", he actually came up with some ideas and taught them to Vesemir and the young Witcher.

certainly.

Because the War Cry involves other energy systems, Ailin himself doesn't offer any special bonuses in teaching, it hasn't had any effect yet.

"Really?" The young witcher's attention was immediately drawn to it.

One by one, little heads swarmed around Ailin, gazing at him with longing and mouths agape.

The main ingredient in the Giant Ghoul Decoction is Giant Ghoul Bone Marrow, and the Blizzard Potion uses a golem whose value far exceeds its weight in gold as a raw material...

The materials can only be produced by large monsters. If they were either their leader or the person who created the potion formula, and they also had a good teacher, these demon hunters would never need to use such a potion in their entire lives.

"Of course." Ailin nodded without hesitation. "But there's only one set. It'll depend on who's the fastest. The second and third place winners will also get other stat-boosting potions, the main ingredient of which is also a large monster, so..."

Seeing the young witchers staring at each other, almost sparking a fierce argument, they decided to stop.

Ailin looked up at the sky and, seeing that the sun was already setting, urged:

"Alright, there's no rush to practice the War Cry. Quickly use the techniques Master Vesemir taught us to find the nests of these ghouls."

"It would be best to hunt another nest of ghouls before sunset..."

Seeing the young witcher's reluctant expression, he added:

"Don't worry, I won't compete with you for monsters this time."

Ernie and the others cheered and ran wildly into the forest.

Ailin shook his head and unleashed a blinding Magic Flash towards the sky.

They then crossed the bloody battlefield with Vesemir and caught up with the young witcher.

As for the materials from the cannibalistic creatures on the battlefield, the Monster Hunter Army specifically arranged for some soldiers to follow behind them.

Upon seeing the Magic Flash he unleashed, we will handle it and send it to the temple.

Actually, I had previously made an agreement with Duke Mason to help train the soldiers of the Monster Hunter Army while hunting monsters.

However, hunting monsters and training soldiers at the same time is too time-consuming.

With ghouls currently rampant in Arland, reducing their numbers is the highest priority.

"Bite!"

The System Notification arrived late. Ailin walked forward, glancing at the Witcher's Handbook with a distracted look.

[Slay the Lv54 Giant Ghoul Horde!]

[Reward Settlement:...]

Final rating: D (Loot Lock)

[Loot obtained: Giant Ghoul Heart Essence Fluid *1, Ghoul Heart Essence Fluid *31, Rotfiend Heart Essence Fluid *16, Lesser Experience Orbs *3, Giant Ghoul's Chest *2, Ghoul's Chest *2, Rotfiend's Chest *2]

Hunting Quest: Ghoul II (Kill 244/250 Ghoul)

Hunting Mission: Rotfiend II (Kill 89/100 Rotfiend)

[Hunting Quest: Giant Ghoul II (Kill 14/20 Giant Ghoul)]

The ratings and chests Loot Lock are not worth mentioning.

But the three "nuclear bombs" are almost fully charged, and now it's just a matter of which lucky person will receive them.

Fortunately, the legion system and the mission system are separate.

Although the Legion's passive skill "Loot Lock" requires at least one Legion member to be nearby to trigger, monsters killed by Legion members will not count towards his hunting mission; otherwise, he really wouldn't have dared to come along these past two days.

Not only is it difficult to "micromanage," but it will also inevitably result in the loss of many gains.

In this respect, the Witcher's Handbook did something unusual.

To be honest, Ailin was more looking forward to the day when he could freely control this authority, and even control whether to actively release the Conjunction of the Spheres after the Hunting Mission was completed.

But since his Personal Panel rating changed to "[Rating: Witcher!]", it hasn't changed for a long time.

"I wonder what the conditions will be for the next privilege upgrade?"

He parted the drooping branches in the woods, guessing what was going on in his mind.

"Perhaps a single attribute exceeds one hundred?"

"Not necessarily. Vesemir's perception is currently stuck at around 80. If it's increased any further, it will be hampered by other attributes and he'll feel uncomfortable..."

"So it's possible that it's 100 in all four stats: strength, agility, physique, and perception? Or maybe it'll also include mystery..."

"I wonder what kind of changes will occur once the attributes exceed one hundred?"

Ailin glanced at his Personal Panel.

Name: Ailin

Age: 14

[Title: Child of Miracle]

[Level: 77]

[HP: 100%, Stamina: 680/680, MP: 840/840]

[Attributes: Strength 80, Agility 64, Constitution 68, Perception 85, Mysticism 84]

He's not far from reaching the maximum attribute value.

At this moment.

Ailin suddenly felt a gaze coming from beside him and raised an eyebrow.

really.

As soon as he put away his Witcher's Handbook, Vesemir spoke.

"Is the aftereffect of weakness completely over?"

Ailin nodded. "It just ended, and I rushed in impulsively."

Vesemir nodded, his expression hesitant.

"Actually, it's unnecessary," the Witcher Master with a deep, dejected sigh, his lips trembling. "I know very well that I am probably no longer able to defeat you. I knew that ever since Aristo lost to you."

"A victory or defeat that has nothing to do with potions..."

"Who knows?" Ailin shook his head. "Who knows if the competition hasn't happened yet? Besides, I didn't lie to Ernie and the others, did I?"

"You're just making excuses," Vesemir said, shaking his head.

Ailin was not lying, but he blurred the timeline and the logic in his words.

Ailin used two incredibly effective potions to defeat him, but he didn't use the potions to win; the duel itself was to test the effects of the new potions.

Relying solely on swordsmanship, he only managed to defeat Ailin by a narrow margin due to his familiarity with the School of the Cat Two-Handed Sword swordsmanship.

But that happened a month ago...

One month ago...

It's only been a month...

Vesemir was lost in thought.

Has he already been surpassed in just one month?

Vesemir felt a complex mix of emotions.

He remained silent for a moment, sighed, pushed aside the overgrown thorns, and without arguing further, followed the young witcher.

As Ailin watched the Witcher Master's somewhat desolate figure recede into the distance, his thoughts wavered.

He did indeed deliberately mislead the young Witcher with his words.

Vesemir's admission that he was not as strong as him would indeed enhance Ailin's prestige among the members of the Monster Hunting Legion.

But Vesemir is the one who truly mentors the young witchers. Rather than enhancing his already formidable prestige, it's more important to gain the young witchers' greater trust and respect...

Um...

He couldn't continue making up the story.

He can't fool himself.

For some reason, Ailin just didn't want Vesemir to admit that he was inferior to anyone in front of others.

Even if that person is himself, even if it benefits him, even if the object is a Witcher from the Monster Hunting Legion who should be closer to him.

He simply didn't want to; it was a deep-seated resistance.

"Perhaps..."

"What should I do..."

Ailin looked at the setting sun and murmured softly.