Ailin Died Again?

Damn!

Gold on the first pull!

Ailin was so delighted he could not help swearing. His heart hammered wildly, and all the blood in his body rushed to his head.

One golden flash, followed by sixteen white ones, but the last one burst into purple light as well.

Double happiness?

Or quadruple happiness?

What kind of luck had he stumbled upon today?

Ailin focused intently, not daring even to blink.

A golden flash streaked past.

A sudden chill blew toward him from the front.

Hm?

There was even a tactile sensation?

Worthy of the Drowners King!

Ailin silently praised it, his concentration sharpening further.

"Buzz!"

A familiar, crisp sound came from before him.

Like the surface of a lake freezing over in the depths of winter, suddenly cracking apart.

Hm?

"Whoosh!"

An ice spike as thick as a thigh materialized from thin air and shot toward his chest the instant it appeared.

What?!!

The cone of dazzling blue light, like the most brilliant diamond, rapidly filled his vision.

The Witcher Apprentice did not even have time to say a word before he was pierced through the chest.

"Ah!"

Ailin jolted awake and sprang from the bed, snapping the wooden bedboard beneath his foot.

"Ailin! What happened?"

Hughes, beside him, was so startled by Ailin's sudden commotion that he jumped up as well.

Fred and Bont also turned their gazes toward him.

Still shaken, Ailin touched his chest.

No hole, no blood—only his soaked linen undershirt.

"N-Nothing. Sorry, I just had a nightmare."

Hughes nodded reassuringly, shivered, then went back to sleep.

The other two apprentices also withdrew their gazes.

Ailin stood still for a few seconds to calm himself down, then moved his bedding to another bed and lay down.

Whenever he drew a gold-quality item, it always maliciously gave him a scare at the end.

But he had known those were fake.

What had just happened, however, was too real. It was exactly what Ailin had seen with his own eyes that afternoon, and it had not given him any time to react.

He had fallen for it immediately.

After steadying his breathing, Ailin reopened the Witcher's Handbook.

He wanted to see just what kind of treasure had scared him half to death.

Ding! Obtained: Experience Orbs ×16, Skill: Ice Lance, "Drowner Whistle" crafting blueprint

Ice Lance?

Was it the one he thought it was?

The faint displeasure Ailin felt at being toyed with vanished completely.

He cautiously focused his thoughts on the skill.

Name: Ice Lance

Type: Water Element Sorcery

Learning Requirements: Water Affinity 2, Mysticism 20

Function: Summons an ice lance and fires it at a target

Note: Witcher, this thing is far more useful than Signs!

It really was that ice spike!

No, it really was the Drowners King's skill.

Though Ice Lance had a rather plain name, it could not conceal its outrageous power.

As someone who had nearly died to this skill, Ailin understood that deeply.

After using the two Drowners King heart Essence Extracts, he would meet the requirements to learn it.

Witchers had swordsmanship at close range and Signs at medium range, but had no special means whatsoever at long range.

Ailin had already been somewhat troubled by this. He had even planned to buy a crossbow after the Trial of the Mountains.

The appearance of this skill perfectly made up for his final weakness.

Looking further down, he saw the Drowner Whistle blueprint.

Though its quality was high, this thing could only be left gathering dust.

Ailin still had nearly ten Drowner Whistles in his inventory.

It was not like potions or Sword Oil; one Drowner Whistle could probably last for over a decade.

After sorting through all of today's gains, his health had only risen from 73% to 76%.

Clearly, he could not immediately drink the remaining Drowners King heart Essence Extract.

Ailin was not in any rush, anyway.

After all, he had already gathered more than half the requirements for passing the Trial of the Mountains.

Thus.

After contentedly taking another look at his 5,762 Lesser Experience Orbs and 61 Experience Orbs, the witcher apprentice drifted happily into dreamland.

The next morning.

Vesemir unusually disrupted the teaching schedule.

He moved the Heliotrope Sign, the Sign used to resist magical attacks and originally planned for the next day, to today.

But this made no difference to Ailin.

He learned everything the moment it was taught.

Then, under the apprentices' envious and admiring gazes, he headed for the Alchemy Room.

Along the way, Ailin kept considering how to use the art of language to decline all future alchemy lessons after today without hurting Lady Mary's self-esteem too much.

When he reached the Alchemy Room door, Ailin was just about to knock.

"Creak~"

The door opened on its own.

Ailin froze for a moment before withdrawing his half-raised hand.

The Sorceress was back?

Had she not said she might not return before the Trial of the Mountains?

With those doubts, Ailin walked inside.

A faint fragrance of orange mixed with cardamom.

The familiar scent that greeted him made the witcher apprentice feel a little nostalgic.

Only then did he suddenly realize that the scent did not belong to the Alchemy Room, but to the Sorceress herself.

Mary was slumped over the table, seemingly asleep.

The Sorceress was still seated where she usually sat, dressed simply and sitting upright.

Though her face was expressionless, after spending so many days together, Ailin could clearly sense that the Sorceress did not seem to be in a good mood.

At that moment.

Ailin suddenly remembered that Vesemir had seemingly not returned the Drowner Whistle to him yesterday.

And that evening, the Witcher Master had apparently gone to see the chief to deal with the Drowners King materials.

And Leto had said that the chief and...

No!

He could not think about Leto!

Though Leto was surely enjoying himself in that small town right now.

It was just...

It couldn't be such a coincidence, could it? Ailin thought, then quickly emptied his mind.

"Good morning, Lady Vesemir."

"Good morning. Sit down."

"Yes, Lady Vesemir."

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary... Ailin obediently sat down.

After sitting, Ailin did not ask Lady Vesemir why she had returned so early. He did not ask for trouble like that.

He simply acted as though Lady Vesemir had never left and obediently listened to the lesson.

"Snap!"

With a snap of her fingers.

A thick, pitch-black book that gave off an ominous feeling flew over.

"Thud!"

The book landed on the alchemy table, and Ailin felt as though the tabletop had sunk noticeably.

He curiously glanced at the cover.

"God of Ill Omen and Evil God Rituals"

?

Why was she teaching this today?

Did alchemy have something to do with Evil Gods too?

After looking at the cover, Ailin tilted his head and glanced questioningly at the Sorceress.

Oddly, whenever Lady Vesemir saw Ailin's puzzled expression before, she would stop and gently ask him about it.

But this time, the Sorceress ignored his expression and began explaining with a blank face.

Something was off. Ailin had a feeling that a storm was about to arrive.

Quiet and oppressive.

"The God of Ill Omen is a deity that advocates misfortune and ill omens..."

The more the witcher apprentice listened, the more confused he became.

"What does this God of Ill Omen have to do with alchemy?"

Ailin wanted to ask the Sorceress.

But seeing Lady Vesemir's frozen expression, he wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

"Skulls, finger bones, and toe bones are common offerings found upon the God of Ill Omen's altars..."

Lady Vesemir paused, glanced at the witcher apprentice, and asked:

"...The believers offer sacrifices, and the deity bestows ritual implements..."

"Witcher apprentice Ailin, do you know what ritual implement the God of Ill Omen bestows?"

At that moment, witcher apprentice Ailin's attention was no longer on Lady Vesemir's lesson at all.

He heard the familiar mechanical voice.

Ding! Spend 7,001 Lesser Experience Orbs to unlock the alchemy skill?

Ailin: Huh?

It had dropped by a hundred Lesser Experience Orbs just like that?

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