The Foundation of Witcher Survival! Reaching the Limits of Attributes!

"Bang!"

The wooden door was gently closed.

In the deep darkness, Ailin stood quietly behind the door for a while.

After hearing that Vesemir and Klar had returned to their room, he sighed softly and walked to the wooden table in the hall.

Smack!

A snap of the fingers.

The sparks from the Igni Sign ignited the candles in the room.

The dark red Wolf School Master Set hung on a coat rack. Elsa was gently drawn from the scabbard, and a brown deerskin cloth was carefully used to wipe away the dust from the blade, moving down from the guard.

Apply a small amount of clear linseed oil to a slightly yellow cotton yarn and then coat the entire blade with it.

Let it sit for a moment before applying.

This process needs to be repeated three times a day, and if you're careful, it can take half an hour.

Two swords take an hour.

If a battle takes place that day, the maintenance period may be extended depending on the intensity of the battle.

But no witcher, not even a young witcher who has just come down from the mountain, will slack off.

Swords are hard, sharp, and delicate. If you don't treat them carefully and cherish them, they will "lose their temper" with your blood and life in the most dangerous and urgent situations.

Therefore, this is a mandatory course that a Witcher takes every day after learning the School of the Wolf swordsmanship from the Trial of Choice.

certainly.

Except in special circumstances, such as sudden encounter with an enemy, unconsciousness, or serious injury, the Witcher will always step in as soon as the person is able to move normally again.

Or rather, it is precisely because we never know when an unexpected event might occur that we need to keep this in mind every day.

Even if it wastes expensive flaxseed oil, deerskin, and fine cotton yarn.

"Hiss~ Hiss~"

The cotton yarn caressed the silvery-white blade, the soft friction sound echoing the sound of breathing, as if man and sword were interacting, creating a tranquil atmosphere that calmed the mind.

So to be honest.

The long hours of daily sword maintenance were not difficult for Ailin; he even enjoyed the process and rarely thought about important or trivial matters during this time.

However, he seemed somewhat uneasy today.

My mind was filled with the question about Klar.

Are witchers monsters?

Vesemir and Ailin didn't really have much to say about this issue, so they directly denied it on the spot, and their reasons were quite valid.

"How could a demon hunter who was born human, fought for humanity, and even died for humanity not be human?"

Thirteen-year-old Klar naturally accepted this logically correct answer.

But Ailin and Vesemir actually knew all of this.

What troubles Klar is not actually a question of exploring the origins, but a question of social acceptance.

In the eyes of commoners, nobles, sorcerers, and even kings from all walks of life in the Northern Continent...

Are witchers monsters?

This is not a small problem.

Thinking further down from this issue easily leads to another, even more pointed question—

Why do witchers fight? What is the reason for their existence?

Humans who fought, bled, and gave their lives for them would regard them as monsters and outcasts.

Is it still necessary for Witchers to fight for humans—those who are different from and hostile to them?

Obviously not.

The School of the Wolf's adherence to neutrality will collapse, as will the griffin, viper, and manticore. Perhaps the profit-driven and emotionally detached School of the Bear will survive, hunting humans for a living, while the School of the Cat, which doesn't consider itself human, will thrive even better.

However, an organization that is driven solely by money and lacks any sense of purpose will ultimately perish because of its own interests.

In fact, examples have been around for a long time.

It's hard to say that the initial split of the School of the Bear into the Viper and the Manticore wasn't driven by profit-seeking.

After all, profit-seeking is unlikely to be the ultimate goal of a violent organization.

Especially when members of the organization have to endure extreme pain and risk their lives year after year to fight for other alternatives.

Just like the School of the Wolf in later generations.

Are Vesemir and Geralt truly incapable of reviving the School of the Wolf?

They certainly have the ability.

They have no shortage of recipes and skills, the Northern Continent has no shortage of orphans, there are even a large number of witches who can cast stabilizing spells in the Trial of Grasses, and the whole world is in chaos...

So why don't they revive it?

Is it a lack of nostalgia for the glory days of the School of the Wolf at its peak, or a fondness for the desolation and ruin of the Ancient Sea Fortress during the harsh winter?

The mortality rate in the Trial of Grasses is certainly one factor.

Those who remained from the School of the Wolf —whether it was Vesemir, Geralt, Eskel, or Lambert— were all kind-hearted people.

There is no doubt about that.

But in essence, it's because the foundation for the continued existence of the School of the Wolf has completely collapsed.

When the whole world sees witchers as outcasts, hates them, despises them, and rejects them, why should they fight for the world and survive?

"The world doesn't need heroes, it needs professionals."

In the original story, the future Vesemir will remind every new Witcher of this.

But Vesemir has never said such a thing to Ailin; he himself is still pursuing the glorious path of the Witcher...

However, on the other hand, let's not even mention the School of the Wolf in the original work.

Having been heartbroken by his "adopted son" Haxor, Chief Ailin also felt a bit like his "Dao Heart had collapsed".

Perhaps for him, Haxor could be the trigger.

But as the leader of the School of the Wolf School of the Wolf, he must have been more or less aware of the bleak future that was already looming ahead.

"Eh~"

Thinking of the conference room and Chieftain Soyer, whose face looked much more weathered, Ailin couldn't help but sigh.

certainly...

Klar certainly hadn't thought that far ahead.

Ailin guessed that he had heard Vesemir's retelling of Alzure's speech and, recalling the group's experiences on their journey south from Kedwen, felt something.

"Hmm... that priest's apprentice in the temple must have played a significant role as well," Ailin slowly withdrew her hand from wiping her sword, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Naive love always makes people sentimental, prone to anxiety and insecurity..."

Otherwise, why aren't Ernie, Kray, Aias, Hugh, and Spencer complaining about "Aren't witchers monsters?"

Those of them, still naive and inexperienced in matters of the heart, probably wish they were some kind of monster capable of both destroying and saving the world.

"Tsk tsk~" Gently sheathing Balmor, listening to the melodious hum of the sword, Ailin clicked his tongue, "Young love! So innocent and beautiful..."

However, the priests of the Temple of Melitele were mentioned.

"Come to think of it, it seems like it's been a long time since I've seen Lyra."

Ailin stroked his prickly beard and pondered for a while.

It seems that apart from the day he returned after exorcising the Evil God, he has never seen Lyra again.

Lately, I've been busy cleaning up the remaining ghouls and thinking about simplifying Warcry and developing the Monster Hunting Legion, so I haven't really had any spare time to pay attention to it.

"Never mind." Ailin thought for a moment, "Let's ask Ian... Nannick tomorrow, just in case something happened..."

The image of the playful old lady flashed through his mind, and he quickly changed his mind.

"Ta-da~ Ta-da~"

He walked a few steps to the table and blew out the candlestick.

Are witchers monsters?

This problem is very important and key to the revival of the School of the Wolf, but frankly, it is not difficult for Ailin to solve.

In other words, whether out of his own free will or under duress from "White Frost," he was already doing it.

Many people, including Kedwen, who was well taken care of by the School of the Wolf, may harbor resentment towards the School of the Wolf and the Witchers, or even regard them as monsters.

But the Arlanders would never do that.

"The Era of the Cold Wolf and Blizzard may be the best of times for the Witcher..."

"Only..."

He sighed inwardly:

"But how do we deal with the subsequent White Frost?"

In an empty room, no one will suddenly appear to help him solve his problems.

After standing quietly in the darkness for a while, Ailin shook his head, no longer thinking about the future, which was too early for him.

He took off his inner armor, got into bed, leaned against the carved wooden headboard, and closed his eyes in a meditative posture.

"Thump~"

"Thump~"

The heart beats rapidly with a unique rhythm.

The surging blood, flowing like a river, suddenly became "heavy".

The golden energy that permeated the blood suddenly mingled with the four-colored magic power flowing from the veins and surged upwards.

But then...

"Hmph~"

Ailin frowned and groaned.

That enormous energy did not follow its usual path; it rushed to the Magic Node under the tongue, then struggled back, forming a cycle.

Instead, before even reaching the Magic Node, it was unwillingly suppressed and forced to retreat.

The power of the beast's roar returned to his blood, and the four elements of magic were transformed into his Mutated Organ.

But my heart is still beating with that wild and desolate rhythm...

No!

Ailin raised an eyebrow.

When everything returns to its beginning, the rhythm remains the same, but the heart beats with even greater tension.

It seems... to be angry.

The swirling gold dust seeped out of the blood again, mixing with the four-colored magic, before being violently stopped again near the Magic Node and returning.

"Whoosh~ Whoosh~"

Blood was surging restlessly, like the Pontar River flowing upstream during the flood season.

But with Ailin's insistence, it had no choice but to obediently accept the energy.

"Snort!"

As the last bit of beastly roar power returned to his blood, Ailin suddenly let out another muffled groan.

The veins on both sides of his forehead bulged almost instantly.

Again!!!

Ailin shouted in his heart.

The power of the beast's roar seeped from his blood, fused with magic, and surged straight into his throat!

If any young Witcher, such as Vesemir, Ernie, or Klar, were here, they would find that this sound is almost exactly the same as the sound of their Enlightenment Battle Cry during the day.

It's just more magnificent and grand.

Before the power of fusion reached the Magic Node, a strange wind began to swirl inside the Wooden Hut.

In the other rooms, all the young demon hunters who were also following Ailin's orders and trying to cultivate the "Path of the Battle Roar" were almost simultaneously awakened by a strong tremor.

It's as if a savage beast, existing even before humans "landed," lurks in the darkness beside the bed.

It was baring its sharp fangs and bloody, foul-smelling mouth, spying on them.

Vesemir suddenly opened his eyes, his dark gold, round beast eyes trembling and shrinking into vertical lines of molten gold.

"Ailin!"

I don't know why.

Even though the surroundings were fraught with danger, as if ferocious beasts were lurking in the shadows, Vesemir's first action after opening his eyes was not to draw the silver sword that was beside him.

Instead, he turned his head to look at the wall beside him.

He seemed to instinctively know that the commotion was caused by Ailin.

Recalling the strange noise from the Evil God god last night, Vesemir's expression changed. He placed his hands on his knees and prepared to get up and go check on Ailin's room.

The next second.

"Yir..."

It wasn't from reality, but directly from my mind that I heard a wild and powerful roar.

Interrupt his actions directly.

"Ai..."

Vesemir, who was about to shout, suddenly changed his expression and sat down abruptly with his bent knees.

Because he discovered it.

The blood and qi in the body are restless and urging.

"Ailin..."

Vesemir's expression shifted between light and dark. He listened to the wall beside him for a while, and only when he heard Ailin's long, deep breaths did he instinctively circulate his blood energy.

Meanwhile, Ailin, separated by a wall, was completely unaware of the unusual activity in the other rooms.

The power of the beast's roar, gathered for the third time, was like a raging torrent that could topple the heavens and the earth, leaving no room for anyone to spare any attention.

It had just been accumulating in the blood when it roared and howled, unmatched and unstoppable.

After merging with the four colors of magic, it roared and broke through the Magic Node at the root of the tongue in the blink of an eye.

That instant.

"Yir..."

In Ailin's mind, a colossal monster covered in golden fur appeared.

Its sound exploded in my ears, a raging, wild roar.

The fusion energy of "Beast Roar: Berserk" also surged forth with this roar.

There was no need for Ailin to exert all his strength to operate and push it as usual; it completed a cycle in less than two minutes on its own.

For the next two weeks... until the third week, when Ailin reached her previous limit, she paused for a moment.

But Ailin, with a slight push of his mind, Erin broke through it.

A warm current began to surge through my limbs and bones, a strong sense of power filling my entire body.

"This feeling... this feeling is..."

He excitedly opened the Witcher's Handbook.

Name: Ailin

[HP: 100%, Stamina: 850/850, MP: 1190/1190]

[Attributes: Strength 95 (+1), Agility 79, Constitution 85, Perception 88, Mysticism 119]

Really!

Strength attribute increased!

That's not all. As the power of "Rage" accumulated and circulated, the attribute numbers on the semi-transparent panel in front of Ailin continued to jump.

The third cycle – Agility +1, Constitution +1...

Fourth cycle – Strength 96, Agility 81, Constitution 87

The near-complete improvement in physical attributes made Ailin feel as if he were in a scalding hot spring, so comfortable that he almost groaned out loud.

However, the improvement has not stopped.

until...

The seventh cycle – Strength 99, Agility 84, Constitution 90.

Ailin, who was staring at the Witcher's Handbook, breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that his power had successfully reached ninety-nine and that there was nothing unusual about his body. He laughed at himself for his lack of self-control.

Being the Child of Miracle, one must possess some miraculous qualities.

The fact that attributes have no limits is clearly a miracle.

But the next second...

"Thump!"

Like a bronze bell being struck.

The raging force, which had been gradually slowing down but was still operating smoothly, suddenly stopped as if it had hit an insurmountable barrier.

"Bite!"

A cold, detached notification sounded in the Witcher's ears.

"..."